Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Lana Williams

  Thomas scratched his head. “Lady Ilisa has practically taken her vows. Are you certain she needs to die as well?”

  “Joining the nunnery doesn’t put her any closer to God than the rest of us.” James rubbed a finger back and forth across his lip as he considered how to manage the whole affair. Perhaps details were more interesting than he’d realized. “Can you arrange to deliver some meat to the keep?” As he explained his plan to Thomas, James’s excitement grew. Assuming all went well, he’d eliminate many of his problems in one day.

  The butcher smiled as James spoke, making the hook-shaped scar near his mouth all the more noticeable. “Very clever, my lord.”

  “Remember, tell no one of my involvement. Anyone you enlist to aid you must think you do this because of your hatred for the English.”

  “I remember, my lord.”

  “Very well.” James lifted a small bag of coins from the table before him. “Here is your payment. Be careful it doesn’t bring you unwanted attention. The rest will follow when the task is done.”

  Thomas nodded tucking the bag into his belt.

  “I look forward to hearing from you soon.” James watched as Thomas bowed and hurried away. It was hard to find reliable help these days, but Thomas seemed to have enough ambition to appreciate the opportunity James offered and enough anger to set aside any misgivings at killing.

  James leaned back in his chair. Now he need only determine which English pig should die after this plan had been completed. Soon the English would flee Berwick and all of Scotland. He smiled with satisfaction at the thought.

  ~*~

  Garrick’s dreams were strange ones. He dreamt of home, of speaking with his father. He dreamt of the day he’d been dubbed a knight, reliving the hollow feeling of being undeserving of such a title. He dreamt of the brutal beating, the blows his attackers rained down on him. And he dreamt of Sophia, lying in his arms, pressing kisses along his face, her nimble fingers exploring his body as their passion carried them away.

  The pain ebbed and flowed yet never left, as relentless as ocean waves upon a beach.

  He longed to draw a deep breath yet even the thought of doing so started a burning in his ribs that halted his breathing. Sleep was a welcome escape but didn’t come often enough.

  Each time he stirred, unable to bear the pain any longer, Sophia was there with a soothing hand along his brow, a gentle word to ease his restlessness, and more of the nasty thick potion she urged him to swallow. Her sweet scent filled his senses when she was near. Her presence brought great comfort and provided something to focus on other than the pain that pulsed through him.

  Once, when he hurt so much he nearly couldn’t stand it, she gave him more medicine then told him a story of a young lad who ventured too far into the woods. Garrick couldn’t quite follow all she said of the boy’s adventures, but the melodic sound of her voice soothed him all the same. The story allowed him to focus on something other than his injuries until the remedy at last took hold and he slept.

  ~*~

  The next time Garrick woke, the crazed old woman he’d spoken with on the street in Berwick after he’d had a vision was at his bedside.

  He peered at her with his good eye, wondering if she was there to harm or help. Pain speared through him as she adjusted the bandage on his ribs, making him certain it must be the former. Had Thomas sent her to him to finish what he’d started?

  “Hurts, aye?” she asked as she worked.

  He didn’t bother to answer even as his heartbeat sped at the idea of finding a way to protect himself from whatever the hell she was trying to do to him.

  “Hilda, is it necessary to wrap him so tight?” The soft lilt of Sophia’s voice brought him great relief. At least he wasn’t alone with the crazed woman.

  “Those ribs won’t mend proper if they move. Got to keep them still,” the old woman said.

  Sophia came into his range of vision and smiled down at him. “Hold on, Garrick.” She took his hand and gently squeezed as though trying to lend him some of her strength. “Hilda is nearly done.”

  Garrick turned his focus on Sophia and away from the searing pain that made him feel as if his middle had caught fire.

  “She put a new poultice on your broken ribs,” Sophia explained. “She almost has the new binding in place.”

  When he next woke, it was to find the terrible tasting medicine in his mouth yet again. He didn’t think he’d ever tasted a fouler substance in his life. It was thick and clumpy, the texture only making the stuff harder to swallow. Had the old woman gathered something from the bottom of a cesspit to create it?

  Yet choking down the awful drink was worthwhile, for soon sleep claimed him again, freeing him from the terrible pain.

  ~*~

  Sophia rose and stretched, doing what she could to ease the stiffness from her limbs. The low of her back ached, a sign she’d spent far too much time bending over Garrick to try to comfort him.

  This was the third day of her vigil with no real sign of improvement. In truth, she was starting to worry even more. Hilda had said when she’d left early that morn that this was the day they’d see a change for better or worse in his condition. If a fever didn’t come this day, he would start to show signs of improvement. Sophia could only pray no fever appeared.

  Braden and Chanse stopped by each day at different times to see how Garrick fared. Both seemed as disheartened as she at Garrick’s condition. Unfortunately, Garrick had not woken during their visits. Those brief moments when Garrick spoke or smiled at her, when recognition lit his eyes, were all that kept her going.

  Sophia didn’t pretend to understand the odd way Chanse had told Braden not to touch Garrick. It was almost as if Chanse thought Braden could get some sort of illness from Garrick. Yet Chanse touched Garrick easily with no fear. She couldn’t make any sense of it. Braden had heeded his brother’s request and refrained from drawing too near. But he watched Garrick so closely, Sophia had to wonder if he waited for something.

  Chanse had been kind enough to bring more food, including a ham he’d tied to a rafter. He and Braden had both chopped wood for Hilda, and Chanse had even seen to an area on her thatched roof that needed repair. They shared news of Sophia’s family, telling her that Alec and Chanse had been fishing several times, and Ilisa had been at the nunnery more often than not. They had little news of Eleanor. From what Braden said, Sophia didn’t think he cared for her brother’s wife overmuch. She couldn’t blame him.

  Each cousin sat by Garrick’s bed and spoke to him for a time, not that Garrick responded. Chanse’s shy smile showed his embarrassment but he explained that his mother had told him that it often aided the patient.

  That day, after Chanse took his leave, Sophia spoke to Garrick as well. If it could possibly help, she was willing to try, no matter how foolish she felt doing so.

  The time for the midday meal had passed and though Sophia’s stomach grumbled in complaint, she couldn’t bring herself to eat. Garrick had been unresponsive most of the day, and she dearly wished Hilda would return. She touched his forehead often for any sign of heat but didn’t think he had a fever. Sophia didn’t know what else to do for him.

  It seemed to her that he should eat to regain his strength, but Hilda said he needed to sleep even more. She took turns pacing the small cottage and sitting by the bed to watch Garrick. Perhaps glare was a better description. It had been so long since he’d wakened. She was ready to take him by the shoulders and shake him, anything to rouse the man.

  The bruises on his face had become more colorful. The lump on his head had reduced slightly, but perhaps that was her wishful thinking.

  With a heavy sigh, she reached out to brush his forehead. “Garrick, I do wish you would wake.”

  His lashes fluttered and hope filled her.

  “Garrick?”

  His uninjured eye opened and held her gaze for a moment. “Not dead yet?” It took a moment for her to understand his muttered words.

  “Nay. And you
won’t be if I have anything to say about it.” Her tone must’ve sounded overly fierce for his brow furrowed at her words.

  “How long?”

  “This is the third day.”

  He nodded and shifted in the bed. She reprimanded herself. Here he was in terrible pain and she was focused on her own wants instead of his.

  “Will you drink some water?”

  Again he nodded and she moved to sit on the bed beside him, cradling his head against her so he might drink from the cup she held to his lips. After several sips, he eased back against the bolster.

  “My thanks,” he whispered.

  She couldn’t help but smile. Each time he spoke seemed like its own little miracle. She’d adjusted his covers when a knock sounded at the door.

  Sophia’s heartbeat sped as she rose from the bed, her hand on the hilt of the small knife in her girdle. “Who is it?”

  “Braden.”

  With relief she unlatched the door for Garrick’s cousin.

  “How is he?” Braden asked, his gaze going directly to Garrick.

  “A little better, I think.” Though Sophia knew she sounded less than hopeful, she couldn’t help it. Not after spending three days watching Garrick with little to no change in his injuries.

  Braden moved to Garrick’s bed and stood beside him, studying his face as he always did.

  “He was awake a few moments ago,” she offered. But once again, Garrick was asleep. She released a sigh of frustration but quickly tried to mask her features when she felt Braden’s gaze on her.

  “I’m sorry I missed that.”

  As always, she was a bit nervous during Braden’s visits, fearing she was supposed to make certain he didn’t touch Garrick, yet Chanse had never asked her to keep Braden away. She knew Garrick held both his cousins in the highest regard. If Braden wanted to spend time with Garrick, he surely had the right to do so.

  “Your family is well. They send their regards,” he offered.

  “That’s lovely to hear. I appreciate you staying with them.”

  “And we appreciate you staying with Garrick.” He held up a small sack. “I brought some herbs from the nunnery garden I thought Hilda might need.”

  Sophia took them and placed them on the table. “You have some knowledge of healing?”

  Braden gave her an odd little smile. “I do.”

  It made even less sense that Chanse had insisted he keep his distance from Garrick.

  Even as Sophia opened her mouth to ask, Braden said, “I’ve come to relieve you for a bit. Perhaps you’d like to get some fresh air, maybe stretch your legs? The rain has stopped for a time and the day is quite fair.”

  Though the idea was tempting, Sophia hesitated.

  “I insist.” Braden moved past her to the door and opened it for her. “A nice brisk walk will clear your head. I’m in no rush to return to the city.”

  Still undecided but left with little choice, Sophia reached for her cloak. “Are you certain?”

  “I am.” Braden gave a nod as though to encourage her to leave. He probably wanted to see Garrick’s condition himself.

  “I won’t go far. Call out if you have need of me before I return.”

  Braden nodded and promptly shut the door behind her. Sophia stared at the closed portal for a long moment but felt certain Garrick could only benefit from his cousin’s visit.

  She turned to take in the view, appreciating it all the more after being confined in the cottage. Yet the river looked the same, as did the city and the nunnery in the far distance. How come she felt so different? As though none of this quite felt like home anymore.

  ~*~

  Garrick opened his eyes at the sound of Braden’s voice as he spoke with Sophia. He tried to rouse himself, to stay awake so he could make certain Braden didn’t do anything foolish. Though he well knew the power his cousin had, he didn’t want any harm to come to Braden. As poorly as Garrick felt, he couldn’t bear the thought of Braden enduring the same.

  “Sophia,” he called out, hoping she wouldn’t leave. Braden would never take action in front of her. But his voice came out little more than a whisper, leaving him alone with his cousin.

  “You’re awake,” Braden’s smile was welcome as was his company—as long as Garrick could keep him from trying to heal him.

  Garrick gave him an attempt at a smile.

  “How is it?” Braden asked, even as he reached for Garrick’s hand.

  “Don’t,” Garrick bit out. “Please. ’Tis bad still.”

  Braden’s eyes immediately filled with sympathy. “Then let me help you, Garrick.”

  “Nay. I still don’t know—” Garrick stopped, not wanting to say it aloud for it made it seem far too real. But at the confusion in Braden’s eyes, he knew he’d have to. “Don’t know if I will make it through this.”

  “Of course you will. Have no doubt.” Braden’s confidence gave him a flicker of hope. “You’ve made it three days. If the Lord meant to take you, he’d have done it already.” He sat on the edge of the bed gingerly, taking care not to jostle Garrick. “Where is the worst of it?”

  Garrick sighed in relief when Braden kept his hands on his lap. “Side. Head.” In truth he hurt everywhere. His entire body throbbed with pain. Lying in the bed had stiffened him considerably but he had no choice. Sitting up was out of the question. “Chanse?” he asked, hoping Braden would understand his question.

  “He’s with Sophia’s family. With Alec, really. I escorted Ilisa to the nunnery. Again. That woman might as well move in for as much time as she spends there. Lady Eleanor...” He shrugged. “She’s impossible. Nothing good ever comes out of her mouth, but don’t tell Sophia I said that. I don’t know how Sophia stands it. The good news is that she’s leaving later this day to visit her sister in the north.” Braden adjusted his position on the bed, moving a little closer to Garrick. “Alec is a good lad. Chanse seems to have earned his trust. He is enjoying having some male companionship, I think.”

  Garrick felt sleep overcoming him, tugging his eyes closed and muffling Braden’s words. Then he felt Braden’s hands on his side. “Nay,” he ordered. But he didn’t have the strength to pull away.

  “Let me, Garrick. I was given this ability for a reason. Let me help you.”

  “Nay. ’Tis too much for you,” Garrick managed. Yet even as he spoke, heat from Braden’s hands seeped into his ribs. The pain felt even worse for a moment before it slowly released its hold. “Braden.”

  His cousin’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed, whether with concentration or pain, Garrick couldn’t tell. The relief from no longer having that terrible pain in his side was glorious. He gasped for air as his body seemed to realize it could at last draw a deep breath.

  Braden moaned as he took Garrick’s pain into his own body. He shifted as though trying to get away from it.

  “Braden,” Garrick said, wishing his cousin hadn’t done it. Never would he want anyone to experience how he’d felt the last three days.

  “I’m...fine,” Braden managed, though he obviously wasn’t.

  Garrick took hold of his arm, lending what little strength he could. Though his own pain had eased, he felt as weak as a babe.

  Several long moments passed then Braden placed his hands on Garrick’s head.

  “Enough.” Garrick reached for Braden’s hands but not before he felt the heat and the slide of the pain as it left him. “No more,” he demanded of his cousin. “Promise me.”

  Braden ignored him as he kept his eyes closed, holding a hand to his head. “Christ, Garrick. How did you bear all this? No wonder you haven’t moved since we put you here.”

  Tears came to Garrick’s eyes, and he blinked quickly before Braden saw them. He couldn’t believe the risk Braden had taken. If Garrick had internal injuries that would slowly drain his life, Braden could easily die when he attempted to heal him. Garrick didn’t deserve such a sacrifice. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Braden sank to the stool beside the bed, hi
s face pale. “I fear I can’t do any more this day, though I know you’re hurt in other places as well.”

  “You’ve done far too much already.” Garrick still felt exhausted but the freedom from so much of his pain was an incredible relief. As though a great weight had been lifted from him.

  “I’ll need to sleep soon, as will you.” Braden closed his eyes again for a long moment. The concentration on his face made Garrick wonder what he was doing. “Take more of Hilda’s potion as it seems to be helping. Eat a little if you can.”

  The rattle of the door had Braden opening his eyes and straightening. His gaze held Garrick’s. “I bid you not to tell Lady Sophia.”

  Garrick nodded. Braden guarded his gift as closely as Garrick guarded his. He frowned as he realized he hadn’t had a vision since he’d been injured. He supposed it was just his mind’s way of dealing with the damage his body had endured. While he didn’t have visions all the time, he often had small glimpses of things. He hadn’t even had that.

  As Sophia entered, she glanced between the two men before looking closer at Braden. “What’s happened?”

  Braden rose and offered a smile. “Garrick’s awake and feeling a little better.”

  Sophia frowned at his words and studied Garrick. “You do look better. How are you feeling?”

  “Much improved.” He cast a concerned glance at Braden before returning his focus to Sophia. “Is there anything to eat?”

  Sophia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course. I’ll heat some soup. It won’t take long. Braden, would you care for some?”

  “I must be going.” He rose slowly, his movements stilted, holding a hand to his side before dropping it.

  Unfortunately, Sophia followed his progress toward the door carefully. “Are you well? Perhaps you should remain here.”

  He smiled, his face pale. “All is well. Chanse is waiting for me, so I must be on my way.”

  “Braden,” Garrick said in as loud a voice as he could manage. His cousin turned to him to glance back. “I can’t thank you enough, but I wish you hadn’t done it.”