by GinaRJ
She felt a unique elation…one that made her understand for the first time in her life what it meant to wonder if something was just a dream. Would she awaken to find none of this had actually happened? The idea of having just dreamt it all from beginning to end put a terrible sinking dread in her heart and stomach.
No, she decided. This was no dream. She was Lady Trent. She was Jacob’s wife. She was thankful for it all. And did not take a single moment to question whether it was meant to be or not, or to question any one of her feelings. They were all understandable, and she accepted them.
“Lady Trent.” Now it was Father Nelson’s turn to stand before and greet her. He had a glass of wine now, which he raised to propose a toast to them and them alone. Grinning with satisfaction he said, “May you see many good days, and be blessed with unity, happiness, and many healthy children.”
Rachel smiled softy, glancing from one to the other and raised her glass for a second drink of wine. Father Nelson afterward lowered his hand. He studied the ceiling, smacking his lips to analyze the wine’s flavor. “Ah!” he grinned. “Good. Very good, indeed.”
And with that he was led away by Caleb alone. Rachel nodded at her handmaidens, giving them permission to also leave the room. Jacob took her hand, grinning at her with a face that became paler before the very eyes. Now that they were alone he would not have to fight so hard against his ill condition.
“You have made me a very happy man,” he said, and lowered his head to drop a kiss on her hand. Edison popped up beside of them.
“You must rest,” he told Jacob.
“Must I?” Jacob asked, grinning down at her. But he did not intend to argue against the notion or to disregard it, for he knew it was unavoidable. Edison directed him toward the bedchamber and he went along. Rachel guided him to a chair nearby his bed. Holly and the second nursemaid, Mable, followed behind and then stood still simply awaiting orders.
While Edison prepared a dose of medicine, Rachel knelt to remove his boots. She smiled up at him as she did so. “I can see you are pleased,” she said.
“Very much so,” he agreed. “You make a very beautiful bride, Rachel Trent, and me the happiest man in the world for sure.”
She removed his second boot, setting it aside and stood. He’d taken her hand now, and stood with her. They embraced, the first time as husband and wife. She nestled her cheek against his strong shoulder. His arms came up around her. He exhaled as if in relief. She felt a single tear slide from the corner of her eye, down her cheek and onto his shirt. She blinked to keep any others from following. “I am very happy, too,” she said quietly to him. “I truly am.”
He ran the tip of a finger along her jaw and offered a grin, although a tired one it was. “Your eyes tell me so. I can’t say they have been so dazzling, not that I recall.”
“I feel dazzling,” she said. “If that is at all possible.”
“It must be. You are glowing like a star.”
She raised a hand to smooth away beads of perspiration from his brow. “We must get you back into bed,” she dreaded to say. “You need rest.”
“I would rather celebrate the occasion.”
“And you will,” she told him. “After the ailment has passed we will celebrate, you and I. We’ll dine and maybe go for a ride about the countryside. The beautiful spot you took me where the water falls and the deer openly drink from the stream.”
“Such ideas you come up with. One would think you have done this sort of thing before, or perhaps considered it.”
“Never,” she defended knowing he already knew it for himself.
His illness was about to get the best of him. It was time for his medicine and for him to lie down and rest. His suit was removed from him, and he was led to his bed and tucked in. Jacob drank Edison’s concoction straight down without a single wince although she imagined it did not taste well at all.
Rachel sat and dropped her head on his chest while Jacob began falling into a deep sleep. She closed her eyes, knowing the two maidens were watching but not caring. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Rest well,” she quietly told him, but it was too late. He was already fast asleep.
******
Rachel spent the remainder of the evening entertaining guests, blending in quite well, which she’d feared she wouldn’t. It was almost as if she’d known these people all along, those closest to the man she’d wed. They were all kind and a delight to entertain. She also accepted gifts, everything from paintings and golden chalices to rugs, collections of books, jewelry and even a few new household servants…not that they were needed, but she accepted them just the same as if they were. The witnesses sent by the emperor presented the most valuable gift of all…a small chest of gold which she had delivered to Jacob’s quarters immediately.
She was careful not to consume too much wine, yet by the end of the night, she was well aware that she’d had her decent share. No, it had not taken much to make her a bit tipsy. Not much at all.
Not an entirely bad feeling, but she scolded herself once it was over and done with, even as she lay down to sleep. But she slept that night, peacefully. Very, very peacefully.
The following morning, after dressing and speaking briefly with a few of their overnight guests, she checked up on the condition of her husband. She had heard that he was awake now, and that he was better. She wanted to see for herself.
He was sitting up when she entered, and grinned at the sight of her. He waved a hand at Holly and Mable, commanding them to leave, and extended an arm to welcome her. She sat beside of him. He kissed her on the forehead. “A beautiful sight this morning,” he commended.
“And our first as husband and wife,” she added, wondering why it took Holly so long to gather her supplies and go. “You seem to have recovered a great deal. Has the illness eased itself?”
“Unusually, I do believe it will leave as quickly as it came.”
“I have hoped and prayed so,” she generously returned.
“Perhaps that is the reason for this unusual, speedy recovery…your hopes and prayers.” He kissed her on the temple. “I trust the remainder of last evening went well. According to Percival, it was an entire success.”
“It was,” she assured. “Some of the guests departed, others did so this morning, and others shall within the day.”
“I had considered rising up and going to greet them. Edison insisted not. I certainly appreciate their attendance.”
“They know that themselves. Your friends are fine people—gentle-natured and goodhearted. I enjoyed getting better acquainted with them. They were certainly generous with their gifts. The emperor sent a small chest of gold.” She glanced around. “I had it delivered here to your room.”
“Rest assured…it was safely transported to Darius early morning.” He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “What’s that you have there?” He asked referring to the book in her hand.
“I discovered it in the library,” she explained. “It’s a fascinating collection of poetry from Pearl Hagar.”
“Pearl Hagar, yes, a brilliant young artist.”
“You’ve read his work,” she guessed.
“I’ve little patience for such a pastime, and little time. Even during this illness I cannot read. The concentration it requires only serves to agitate me. No, but I have met the man in person.”
“Oh?”
“Many years ago. He was imprisoned for including some passages in his work that the emperor thought of as derogatory.”
“Derogatory?”
“Critical of him. He was freed, of course, but under the condition he would travel elsewhere…overseas.”
“You did well to acquire a copy of his work. Some of his writings are quite amusing. I thought I could read to you while you rest.”
He kissed her temple. “That would be well with me.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Nothing appeals to me, but none to worry, my appetite shall return after I have resumed my normal
activities.”
Her expression became one of concern and interest. “How long does this ailment hinder you?”
“Once upon a time three, four days. And then five and six days. Now it may linger anywhere from seven to eight days, although this time I am certain it will pass quickly.”
“And the physician hasn’t an answer.”
“Over the years I have been tended to by many physicians. This has occurred since I was a young lad, only not near as severe. These physicians all share the same opinion. The illness is uncommon and cannot be identified.”
Silence fell and she sat back with him, leaning closer and opening the book before them, and she began to read. He closed his eyes to listen, and she could feel the gentle vibration of his chest and stomach from time to time as he silently laughed.
They were simultaneously amused by one particular passage, laughing when Marcus came into the room; an entrance that she felt instantly disturbed by. Without announcement or approval nobody other than the physician and his helpers were able to simply enter the chamber, yet he did so freely as if expected at any given moment.
She proceeded with the final sentence of what she’d been reading, and then stood closing the book. “You were correct with your opinion of his work,” Jacob softly admonished. “He is comical in his writings. Hearing them does me good.”
“I’m glad of it,” she commented, and began straightening the blankets. Jacob focused upon Marcus who’d stepped deeper into the room, obviously satisfied at the improved condition of his friend.
“Ah, Marcus,” he admired, “My reed in the wind.” His eyes swept over his pants and loose shirt. “And from the looks of it you are about to be blown into some unpredictable direction.”
Rachel considered the fact that after the exchanging of the vows, Marcus had disappeared. She’d not only wondered where he’d gone off to, but why he’d fled so swiftly and without a word to anyone. Several guards and guests had asked of his whereabouts. Nobody knew for certain. He certainly hadn’t explained anything to her.
“I see the maidens have not exaggerated their accounts of your wellbeing,” Marcus commented. “You have already recovered some. But I have something that may be of use.” He reached inside a pocket removing a handkerchief. He unfolded it before their eyes thus revealing a mound of greenish herbs. He raised a foot atop the seat of the chair and rested his elbows on his knee, leaning forward to make the herbs more visible to Jacob. “I have brought these from Port Templeton. They will make you feel all the better.”
Rachel stared from the herbs to his face. “None to worry, Lady Trent,” he casually commented. “I wouldn’t dare poison him. Not until he is well enough to pay me for my most recent undertaking.” He planted his foot to the floor, choosing to sit opposed to using the piece of furniture as a footrest.
“Port Templeton,” Jacob repeated while Rachel went about mindlessly straightening the room. “When did you go?”
“Not long after your vows were exchanged. I had some, um, matters to attend there. Don’t worry about these,” he encouraged in reference to the herbs. “I had the honor of trying them out for myself. I feel no pain or discomfort, even after a night of heavy drinking.”
He got a laugh from this. “No man has ever been so faithful to me as this one,” Jacob told Rachel. “Where others may come and go, he is always welcomed.”
She made her way around the bed and accepted the handkerchief, careful not to scatter or lose any of the herbs. “How does one prepare them?”
“The same as tea…with sugar and lemon for taste.” He observed Jacob. “How do you feel, my friend? I must say, you look much better today.”
“I feel much better.”
“I’m content to hear it…rather to see so for myself. Now I can go about my way again.”
“Where to?”
“The Isles.”
“Ah, yes, the Isles. I had nearly forgotten. You are at the disposal of Duke Norton.”
“Lord Fleming has been at odds with him, stationing guards along the borders as if to provoke him.”
“Nothing you can’t remedy, I’m sure.”
“I’m confident I’ve accomplished it already, and also that I will be paying the emperor a visit in the near future.”
“Soon?”
“The next month or so, perhaps.”
“I should like for you to tell me before you go. I have scrolls to be delivered to him.”
“Anything of importance, I could—“
“No, no, just standard records of the goings-on in the city.”
“I see.”
“When will you return from the Isles?”
“So soon as the feat is over, however long it takes. I also have matters to settle between Earl Hemway and Lord Madison. But if these documents are of importance, I may deliver them now.”
“Yes, yes, but it can be put off.”
Hearing him, Marcus stood and took a step back. “Be well, my friend. I must be on my way now.”
“I’ve yet a man to oversee the Guard while Sir Edward is away. He suddenly departed for some domestic concerns. I had hoped you would appoint someone in my stead.”
“I’ve already made such an appointment,” he told him. “Sir Miles has agreed to take his place for a time. I trust him with the job.”
“Then I shall trust him as well.”
“As you should also trust Winston with the transporting of prisoners into the West Isles. Not only that, but the delivery of any private messages in the stead of Pearce for the time being.”
“Pearce?” He frowned heavily upon this. “I trust nobody other than you or he in regards to those things. You know this. For what cause has he withdrawn himself?”
“Reasonable ones,” he told him. “I would not want to say in the presence of you wife.” He cast Rachel a charmed glance which she returned with a harsh one of her own. She did not like being kept in the dark: something she hadn’t noticed prior coming to the Great City. Perhaps since nothing had ever been withheld from her in Westerly. But she was fast learning that she wanted to know everything going on around her…both inside the palace and without.
Her eyes narrowed upon him, but not vengefully. “You may speak, Sir Marcus. I assure you, my ears have not been hidden from certain truths...especially those concerning the manly kind.”
“I would rather resist the defamation of his character which could very well suffer slack. Pearce is an innocent man.”
This Jacob seemed to understand. “I see,” he said, staring forward as if to think a situation through. “A few hours of sickness and every damnation transpires.”
“I am confident the guilty man will come forth. For the time being, Pearce must be in hiding.”
“He needn’t hide,” Jacob calmly argued. “Not under my protection.”
“It will be a short spell,” Marcus assured, and then taking a step back assured, “I will send word before my return if able,” and then bowed before turning. He nodded, “Milady,” and then swept by her and from the room. At the same time, Edison entered to give Jacob a dose of medicine. Rachel dropped a kiss on his forehead, assuring him she would return and saying, “I will hand these over to the cooks,” in reference to the herbs.
She departed the chamber and found herself searching for Marcus. She found him in the quarters he was known to keep in the latter process of getting his things together.
She tapped on the door, which was slightly opened to begin with. Although discovering her, he said nothing, which she took as permission to enter.
“Will you leave now?” She asked. “At the moment?”
He cast her an uncertain glance before saying, “If there’s something you must speak to me about…” He proceeded to tie a bag closed. “I can afford a short delay.”
She fell silent, her gaze to the floor. “What is it?” He urged, his brows coming together, and then his expression relaxed as he guessed. “His health?”
She simply shook her head. “I’m certain h
e will be well.”
Marcus proceeded to tighten the knot he’d made in his satchel. “Yes, he will get well,” he confirmed. “This illness has plagued him for many, many years. It passes, and he springs up like a new man. During the time he is well he makes up for that lost.”
“One must wonder if it will one day defeat him altogether.”
To this he said nothing, simply occupied himself with the satchel and then a parchment of some sort which he began to roll up.
“I have a request,” she finally said.
He raised a curious brow. “Of me?”
“Yes, I…” she hesitated, studying the floor a moment before proceeding. “The Isles. I wonder the direction you must take to get there.”
“The Eastern Isles lie off the Eastern border.”
“Are they a great distance from Westerly?”
“A few days journey. Two, three at the most. Ironic, isn’t it?” He commented. “A community in the east called Westerly.”
“You must not know its history.”
“I was not a worthy pupil in my youth. Even so, I doubt the founding of Westerly would’ve been discussed.”
“In any case, it was founded by a Sir West Lee.”
“Sir?” He almost grinned. “Also ironic.”
“People began to pronounce it Westerly. See, it makes perfect sense.”
“Why do you ask about the distance between those places?”
“The money that was given to me for them.”
“I would’ve assumed you’d had it delivered by now.”
“By whose hand? Not to say Jacob’s messengers are not trustworthy. But the fewer who know about it, the better. Besides, greed can take hold of even the most authentic man.”
“I cannot argue that, milady.”
“I wonder if perhaps…I mean, since you will be so near if-if you could just take a few days and—“