Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me

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Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me Page 10

by Lana Williams


  This day would be her first full day as a wife. In truth, she felt no different, but few brides experienced a wedding night such as hers or rather, lack thereof. It had been a far cry from the way she’d always dreamed.

  Her father had told Nicholas the truth. She had hoped to marry for love, to hold her babes, to raise many children.

  There would be no true wedding night for her unless Nicholas changed his mind. Her heart sank further at the thought.

  The memory of his hopeless expression as he’d sat beside William’s bed the night before added another layer to her melancholy. His despair had been palpable. And William...she shook her head. He’d looked far worse than she could’ve imagined.

  It bothered her to see either brother in such a state. She wished there was something she could do, some way she could help. But how? Nicholas had made it clear that she should stay away from them both.

  Was that what she should do? Leave Nicholas in peace with his brother for the short time they had left together?

  Nay. Leaving William at the gate had been cowardly and had done neither William nor her any good. She had to make a valiant effort to fight for what she thought was best.

  She heaved a sigh, for no plan of action came to mind. Perhaps something would arise as she began her day. Continuing to lie here would help no one.

  She rose and dressed quickly in the chilly morning air, not bothering with a fire. For a start, she’d see if William’s condition had changed during the short time she’d slept.

  After only one wrong turn, she found her way to his chamber. Nicholas still sat in a chair beside the bed, right where she’d left him.

  Her husband.

  She swallowed hard. Her stomach did a long, slow roll when she thought of the man before her as such. She took a moment to study him before he noted her presence.

  The journey here seemed to have taken its toll as he appeared exhausted. He leaned forward in the chair with his elbows on his knees and his broad shoulders slumped. His dark hair was tousled and stubble etched his jaw.

  If he were her husband in truth without all the problems that stood between them, she’d run her hands through those dark, soft strands, then rub his neck and shoulders to ease the tightness there. She’d press her lips to his temple and his ear and whisper words of comfort.

  Oh! She caught her breath at the images playing through her mind. Longing, sharp and deep, ran through her. If only circumstances were different, he’d turn to her and pull her into his lap. They’d hold and comfort each other during this difficult time. They’d discuss what could be done to best help William. And they’d work together.

  She took several slow breaths and gave herself a stern lecture not to waste time wishing for what could never be.

  As she entered the chamber, Nicholas covered his eyes with his hands. Her heart clutched at the sight.

  A quick glance at William showed him to be much the same though his arms were no longer crossed over his body. The early morning light made his gray pallor more obvious. The bitter stench in the chamber had not improved either.

  Nicholas must have sensed her presence, for he looked up at her with a weary expression.

  “How is he this morning?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  Nicholas just shook his head.

  Frightened, she glanced again at William. “What do you mean? Is he the same or...” Her voice quivered at the thought of the alternative.

  He cleared his throat. “The same.”

  “What does the healer say?”

  “I have not yet spoken with her.”

  She studied him more closely, surprised he hadn’t already taken action. “Why not?”

  He didn’t answer. His expression seemed resigned to William passing on from this life.

  “Are you saying you’re giving up?” The idea of that made her so angry she couldn’t help but protest.

  He said nothing, nor did he bother to glance her way.

  “After all you did for vengeance, now you’re prepared to let your brother draw his last breath without a fight?” Her tone grew shrill, but she didn’t care.

  He looked up at her, obviously taken aback by her angry words.

  “We are not allowing him to die.” She put her hands on her hips. “I am not allowing him to die,” she said more softly to herself.

  “What is it that you propose to do?” Nicholas rose, his eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going to sit aside and let him go. We have to try something.”

  “You had your chance to help him while he was at Amberley.”

  “I did help him.” She strode over to stand before Nicholas, anger giving her the freedom to speak her mind. “Whether you choose to believe that or not, I did my best.”

  Nicholas scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest.

  “I did,” she protested. “I took great care with his wound. I bandaged it and applied a simple poultice.”

  “And? What else?”

  His cold blue eyes seemed to bore through her. His contemptuous tone undid her bravado. Heat flooded her cheeks as nagging guilt poured through her. Then came the part where she’d plunked him in a cart and jostled him about as they made their way to Staverton before leaving him at the gate. She refused to say that aloud.

  Instead, she glanced at the still form in the bed, letting anger course through her. “This isn’t about you or what you think of me. It’s about William. I’d like to help him again, or at the very least, bring him comfort.”

  She gathered her resolve and tried to ignore Nicholas’s derision. Not an easy task, especially when her gaze caught with his.

  To be effective, she had to get him to leave. She couldn’t think clearly with him watching her every move.

  “Go. Leave. Now.” It gave her a small bit of pleasure to use the words he’d so easily dismissed her with the previous night.

  “Nay, I think not.”

  “Oh, but I do. Go. Eat, sleep, and bathe. Don’t come back until you’ve done all three.” She put her hands on his chest and pushed to encourage his departure.

  Unfortunately, his solid mass didn’t budge. Heat coursed through her at the feel of the well-formed muscles beneath her fingers, just as she’d imagined a few moments earlier. His soft linen tunic seemed to beg her hands to caress his form, to explore his physique.

  She jerked away, praying he didn’t notice her sudden need to touch him. She could only imagine his derision if she let him see her longing for him.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he stated.

  Frustrated, she glared up at him. “Fine. But you’ll only be in the way.”

  “In the way of what?” he asked, not bothering to hide his suspicion of her intentions.

  For a long, horrifying moment, her mind was a complete blank. She forced herself to think and grasped at the first idea that came to her. “We’ll start with some fresh air.” She walked across the chamber and pulled back the narrow wooden shutters on each window. “Then we need clean linens. Could you fetch a maidservant?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Please.”

  “Elizabeth, this is pointless – ”

  His use of her name brought a rush of tears to her eyes. With effort, she clung to her anger and spun to face him. “Do you have a better idea? A suggestion that would actually be helpful? Or is it your intent to thwart me at every turn?”

  His eyebrows rose at her outburst, but he said nothing.

  She let the silence draw out for a long moment as they stared at each other. How could she convince him to let her try? “Let me help him, Nicholas. I may not know how to heal, but I can certainly make him more comfortable.”

  “Being comfortable does not mean he’ll live.”

  “That is true. But it can’t hurt either.”

  Nicholas held her gaze, obviously trying to make up his mind.

  Taking that as encouragement, she moved to where he stood and took his hands in hers. “I swear to you I will do everyth
ing I can to aid him. I want him to recover as well.”

  Those blue eyes held hers, and she hoped he could see her sincerity. He looked away for a moment as though weighing what she’d said. At last, he gave her the barest of nods, then turned on his heel and walked to the door.

  Relief filled her. Perhaps she could prove to him that he could trust her. “Remember to send the maid,” she called out.

  He exited without so much as a word or a backward glance.

  Sooner than she expected, Mary and two other servants stood in the doorway. “Good morn, Lady Elizabeth.” Mary curtsied with a smile. “Did you have need of us?”

  “Indeed, I do. Can one of you fetch the healer? We also need clean linens for the bed. Oh, and some water and rags.”

  They all bustled away to do her bidding.

  Sunshine streamed in the open windows, casting a golden glow across the bed. Already the air smelled fresher. Surely the cool air would do William no harm.

  She walked to the bed and sat beside him to take his hand in hers. “William? I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need your assistance.” She turned his hand over to trail her fingers across his calloused palm, then squeezed it. Hard. “I need you to fight this. Your brother needs you. We all need you. We aren’t letting you go. Do you hear me? You will not die!”

  Though he showed no response to what she said, she felt better for speaking to him. They’d had several conversations, albeit brief ones, during his stay at Amberley, and she knew him to be an intelligent, caring man. Not the killer her father had been convinced he was.

  She had not said vows with a man who despised her only to lose the man who was the reason for it all. The purpose of her dragging William here had been for him to heal in the arms of his family. So why wasn’t he healing? She was determined to try anything and everything she could think of to aid him.

  “I feel it only fair to warn you of my intent, William. You will not depart this life, for I will not let you.” She gave his hand another squeeze. “I expect your full and complete cooperation with this.”

  Perhaps somehow her words were getting through to him. Lord, she hoped so. Then she prayed so.

  When Mary and the other servant, Edith, returned with supplies, she instructed them to bathe William then went in search of lavender to further freshen the room. By the time she’d returned, they were rinsing William’s hair – no easy feat while he lay abed.

  “His beard’s getting a bit long. Shall we shave him, my lady?” Mary asked.

  “We’ll save that for another day. We don’t want to tire him overmuch. Let us change the bed linens next,” Elizabeth replied. She set aside the dried lavender she’d gotten from the kitchen as the maids pulled the covers off of William.

  “Here now, what do you think you’re doin’?” An older man, a servant by the look of his plain brown tunic, entered the chamber, his expression alarmed. “Why are ya’ disturbin’ young Sir William like this? He’s on his deathbed.”

  “Nay, he is not. A bit of fresh air and clean linens will do him good,” Elizabeth replied as she gestured to the maidservants to continue.

  The old servant squinted at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Where would ya get a crazy notion like that?”

  “What is your name, sir?” Elizabeth asked, determined to win the man over to her way of thinking.

  “Walter, my lady,” the man mumbled. As he looked hard at William, his throat worked, his upset at the state of William’s health apparent.

  “As Lord de Bremont’s wife – ” her stomach fluttered as she said the words.

  “Wife?” Walter’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Wife you say?”

  Elizabeth nodded, surprised at his shock. Had Nicholas told no one of their marriage? “Our wedding was...unexpected.”

  “Ha!” Walter slapped his knee. “I bet me last coin he didn’t see that comin’.”

  “Pardon me?” Elizabeth asked, confused by his comment.

  Walter guffawed, then seemed to realize the rudeness of his behavior. “Never mind me, my lady. I know not of what I speak.” He shook his head, chuckling still.

  Elizabeth looked carefully at the old servant, wondering if he was right in the head. “We could use your assistance.”

  Walter approached the bed and lowered his voice. “But the priest gave Sir William last rites early yesterday morn.”

  How odd, Elizabeth thought. That would’ve been near the time she and Nicholas had stood before the priest. Yet hadn’t Nicholas said his brother had been given last rites before he’d left for Amberley? None of it made sense.

  “We have little to lose then, wouldn’t you agree?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I suppose,” the old man grudgingly admitted.

  With Walter’s help, they rolled William gently to one side of the bed and changed the linens.

  To Elizabeth’s dismay, William didn’t awaken, even with all the jostling. She’d hoped to see at least a fluttering of his eyelids or a twitch of his brow. Any indication of life would’ve thrilled her. But there was none.

  Elizabeth put some of the lavender on the straw mattress, then smoothed the linens around the corner of the bed as she spoke to Walter. “Do you know the healer?”

  “Course I do, my lady. Mistress Mildred. Steady as the rain, that woman.”

  “Does she practice bloodletting?” Elizabeth asked as she tucked some lavender under William’s pillow and a bit more under the mattress.

  “Nay, my lady. She don’t believe in none of that. Says it does more harm than good.”

  The old servant muttered as he helped adjust William to a more comfortable position. With gentle, gnarled fingers, he combed the bangs of William’s brown hair forward and smoothed them to the side. “He looks more like hisself that way.”

  “That’s exactly what he needs.”

  Walter nodded in agreement as he crossed William’s arms over his chest.

  “Nay,” Elizabeth ordered. “Leave his arms by his sides, please.”

  “But the priest – ”

  “Aye, well, the priest thought he was dying, but he was wrong.”

  All of the occupants of the room looked at her uncertainly, but none argued.

  “I’ve been with Lord de Bremont and this one here since they were youngsters,” Walter said as he swiped a hand across his eyes. “Lord de Bremont was just settlin’ in to things here at Staverton. We’d been here a nearly a month when William showed up. What a shock that was for my lord. Who would’ve left him like that, alone in a cart with no one to tend him?”

  Elizabeth halted, struck to the heart by his words. It seemed guilt would be her constant companion. She reminded herself that her intentions had been honorable if not her actions. “I left William at the gate.”

  Walter spun around, his mouth agape. Both of the maids tidying the room stopped what they were doing to listen.

  “Why would ya’ do such a thing?” he asked.

  “He was injured severely when my father brought him to our home. We tried to help him as best we could, but I fear my skills are limited.” She swallowed hard. “When William didn’t improve, I brought him here. I thought he’d heal quicker here with people who knew and loved him.”

  “But, my lady, you abandoned him in a cart at the gate of the keep!” Walter protested.

  Though Elizabeth knew it was unnecessary to explain her actions to a servant, this man had known Nicholas and William since they were young. He deserved to hear the story in full. Perhaps at least one person here would listen to her. “He was well protected in that cart. I didn’t leave until I knew he’d been found.”

  “Humph.” Walter’s gaze traveled the chamber as he seemed to ponder what she’d said. “Why not see him safely inside?” His tone now held more curiosity than anger.

  “I can only tell you that I had a good reason for doing so. He was discovered quickly.”

  “Well, that’s because Lord de Bremont...” His voice trailed off as though he’d thou
ght better of offering her a reason for the cause of the quick discovery. “Pay me no mind.”

  Elizabeth was disappointed he’d stopped, because she was certain she’d never hear any sort of clarification from her husband. Not the way things stood between them now.

  She’d assumed William had been discovered because a guard at the gatehouse had spotted them. But Walter’s words made her wonder if there was another reason entirely.

  Chapter Twelve

  Knowing Walter would keep watch over his wife, Nicholas broke his fast with bread and cheese in the hall. He’d chosen not to tell the servant any of the events during his absence of the past few days. Not yet at least. The old man could form his own opinion of the new lady of Staverton keep.

  With food in his belly, he had to admit he felt better. He considered returning to William’s chamber, for he had no reason to trust Elizabeth regardless of the promises she’d made. Walter would be displeased though since he’d sent the elderly servant to see to things.

  It annoyed him to follow Elizabeth’s other suggestions, or rather her orders, yet he walked to the pond just outside the curtain wall. He stripped bare in the small wooded copse and dove in. The cold water stole his breath.

  He forced himself to swim across the length of the pond. His body quickly adjusted, and he lingered longer than he’d planned. The tension in his neck and shoulders eased as the water worked its magic. The dust and grime from the fast-paced journey was gone, and with it, some of his foul mood.

  Damn her for being right.

  He returned to the shore and donned his clothes as he thought of her reaction when she’d assumed he’d given up on William’s recovery.

  Interesting, that.

  She’d seemed outraged when she thought him ready to let his brother die. She didn’t know him well, or she’d know he’d do everything in his power to bring his brother back. Somehow seeing justice served by making Crefton and his daughter suffer ought to improve William’s chances. Or perhaps Nicholas just wished it so.

  Of course, Elizabeth had to pay as well. An image of her dismayed expression as she’d looked at William played through his mind. Her anguish at his brother’s failing health had been evident. He’d say she was paying already. Did she regret the bargain they’d struck?

 

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