Wicked Whispers

by Tina Donahue

“Ahead, at the castle.” She lifted her hand to show him what she meant. He was so busy nuzzling her neck, he couldn’t have noticed. Again, she drove her fingers through his hair, anchoring him to her.

  Several moments passed before he lifted his face from her neck and rested his chin on her shoulder instead.

  She smiled at the weight of his head, liking it.

  “Who would be up at dawn when they drank and feasted throughout the night?” Before she could answer, he ran his tongue over her lobe, tickling her.

  She giggled. “Stop it.”

  “Why?”

  This was so wrong. She twisted around to tell him. Something moved in the corner of her eye. Facing the castle, she squinted, trying to see the balconies more clearly from this distance. They appeared empty now but she could have sworn someone had been on the one to the left, watching her and Enrique before moving away.

  He tightened his arm around her waist. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Should I stop kissing you?”

  The fact they weren’t betrothed or wed and would never be came to mind, though Sancha wasn’t about to get into such a discussion now. “I saw someone.”

  Enrique pulled his hand from beneath her shirt. “Who?”

  “Isabella?”

  He leaned over her shoulder to see her face. “You seem uncertain.”

  “She moved before I could see her clearly. Who else would be up worrying about our return?”

  “From what I can see, your sister’s only worry is our never being together.”

  She chose to ignore his comment. “We need to get inside before full light.”

  On a loud sigh, he prodded his horse to a faster pace.

  The stable boy and house servants pretended not to notice her odd attire. They bowed graciously, kept their tongues, and continued with their duties.

  Knowing the castle design, she avoided any possible crowds by darting toward a back stairway that led to her bedchamber. Halfway down the hall, Enrique grabbed her hand.

  She looked over. “What?”

  “Show me your books.”

  “Now?”

  “I want to see them.”

  Male and female voices drifted from another hall. Not wanting to find out if they belonged to servants or guests, she hurried down the corridor, gesturing for Enrique to follow.

  She stopped at a hidden door. Colorful mosaics matched the rest of the wall, concealing this entrance, the same as the one she’d fled through last night. Before she pressed the seam to open the door, she removed two candles from their holders, lit the wicks, and handed the spare to Enrique.

  The scant light turned the darkness a dismal brown as they descended a stairway cut into the earth. Here, packed dirt pressed close, smelling dank, cooling the air.

  At the bottom of the steps, she pointed. “This way.”

  He grabbed her hand, mindful of the linen strips he’d wrapped around her fingers. “Take care not to hurt yourself again.”

  His concern was so genuine and unnecessary, she wanted to throw her arms around him, giving her all.

  She nodded instead, leading him through a narrow passageway, the oppressive quiet broken by skittering sounds. Mice she had yet to catch. The creatures had served her well in the past, even though Isabella found any vermin appalling.

  She’d argued against Sancha using this space for her books, thinking it too grim. Nonsense. The area was perfect, hidden from prying eyes. Even if something happened to her, the volumes would always be safe.

  She stopped in a surprisingly large room, guessing the Moor who’d owned this castle had kept prisoners here. Rusted chairs rested on the floor. Bolts studded the walls at intervals sufficiently high to hold a man’s arms above his head, low enough to shackle his feet.

  Enrique bypassed those items, stopping at the lone chair and long table, her volumes stacked on top. She had so many the wood was no longer visible beneath her books.

  He put his candle in a holder, picked up the first volume, and turned page after page, his handsome features slackening with shock. “This is in Arabic.”

  “Some are in Latin. I can read both languages.”

  “This volume is on Islamic medicine.”

  She put her candle into a holder. “All of them are.”

  He stared as if seeing her for the first time with the image not pleasing him. “This is heresy.”

  Her spirits fell. Although she hadn’t expected him to understand fully or to grin in delight, she didn’t want him to be so intolerant.

  She joined him and stroked her books as she would a beloved child. “This is knowledge.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Sancha, listen to me. What you have here are from Spain’s enemies.”

  “No.” She pushed his hands off her. “Physicians penned these books centuries before our birth. How can they threaten you, me, or anyone else in this country?”

  “I concede those men pose no menace now. However, their ancestors did and the generations that follow still do.”

  “Then hate them, not those who wrote the books. What they discovered is beyond compare and saved Fernando’s life, arm, and leg. When his wounds infected, I learned how to treat them as I had Maria’s in order to save both of them. Not because of Spain’s physicians, the Church, religion, or custom. Because of Zakariya Razi. Rhazes to those who honor him.”

  She gestured to the great man’s book. “Reading his work opened my eyes to so many possibilities. Men need not go lame, blind, or die needlessly if someone knows how to treat them. Rhazes’s people established medicine far surpassing what we know. A famous tale relates how he determined where to build a hospital for the community. He had meat hung in various locations around Baghdad. The spot where the carcasses rotted the least was the one he chose, because he knew what caused illness.”

  She circled the table and lifted a cage with mice inside. Three fat ones eyed her, noses twitching. “I experiment on these creatures wherever I am, testing what my books claim. Thus far, all holds true. The potions and treatments these men discovered centuries ago help us now. How can that be wrong? Would you have preferred I let Fernando die?”

  “Of course not.” He threw up his hands. “But this…”

  “This is the future. Spain may keep its people from knowing anything so miraculous but the rest of the world will never stand still. They will move forward as we mire ourselves in unending battles and for what? A piece of land? A castle? What about people? Do they have no value except for your family?”

  He frowned. “You matter.”

  “Then try to understand why I do what I must. How important this is to me.”

  “I can see that. You rage like a madwoman.”

  “Perhaps I am.” She turned away. “You should leave.”

  “Without you? Never.”

  She crossed to the other side of the room before he could reach her. “You have no claim on me.”

  “Not yet.”

  Frowning, she looked over.

  “Study what you want.” He made a sweeping gesture to take in all her books. “Experiment on whatever creature appeals to you. Heal when you will.”

  Surprised at his comment, she softened her stance. “Truly? You believe in what I do?”

  “You give me no choice, and I give you none. From this moment forward whenever and wherever you heal, I intend to accompany you as your protector.”

  Chapter 4

  She stepped back.

  Didn’t matter. No distance would keep her from him. He was resolute in what he required, no different from Sancha with her needs.

  “No.” She fisted her fingers but stopped quickly at the scrapes on her skin, pain tightening her features.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No.” She planted her hands on her hips and lifted her chin.

  What light there was sparkled in her eyes. They appeared ghostlike, belonging to an apparition rathe
r than the angel he first thought upon seeing her at the celebration. In either case, she was breathtaking. “You said no twice. What was the first one for?”

  “Everything. You have no right to make demands of me.”

  “I have every right and reason.”

  She advanced a step, her frown hard. “Because of a few kisses?”

  “Hardly, though I enjoyed each, the same as you. Never deny your response. I. Was. There. I saw and felt your passion.”

  She glanced to the side, chest heaving with her rough breaths.

  Even though the light was dim, it revealed her deepening color. Whether her blush resulted from anger, arousal, or both, he wasn’t certain. At least she wasn’t indifferent to him. As far as he was concerned, she’d always be a part of his blood, heart, the fabric of his being. Her secret had simply bound him to her even more.

  Fernando had told Enrique how learned she was. He hadn’t guessed her knowledge was so great. Most women would have despaired at learning Arabic, the writing symbols rather than words. For Sancha to have taught herself treatments and potions, then to have experimented on mice to test her theories was more than he could comprehend.

  He’d always considered himself a scholarly man, having had no choice except to learn everything he could as the firstborn son. He’d worked hard and had excelled. Only science had proved challenging to him. From the little he’d read, the subjects in her books were unbelievably complicated. Yet, she’d mastered them. Given what she’d accomplished tonight and had said earlier, she seemed to absorb knowledge effortlessly, possibly making her more learned than him.

  He wasn’t certain what to think about that or how to feel.

  “You believe my being a woman and you being a man gives you the right to tell me what to do?”

  He’d have to be a lunatic to make such a claim and risk her wrath. Having her annoyed at him was bad enough. “Again, no. However, what you have already done to my brother not only gives me the right but the obligation to see no further harm comes to him because of you.”

  “What?” She dropped her hands to her sides and strode to him. Like a man. “How have I hurt Fernando? Have you forgotten I saved his life and spared his limbs?”

  “With you reminding me repeatedly? I will be eternally grateful for your efforts, but I will not allow you to put him at risk with these.” He gestured to her books. “What do you intend to do if the authorities come here to search? Tell them the volumes walked in on their own?”

  Her frown dissolved into a surprised expression followed by concern. “That could never happen.”

  “Why not? Although Fernando’s holdings are far less than yours, inquisitors would find them equally attractive. After all, wealth is wealth.”

  “Fernando served Spain bravely in his battles, proving his loyalty to the Crown and Church. No one would ever suspect him of heresy or witchery.”

  “They might be suspicious of you. As your brother-in-law, Fernando may have known the details of your alleged crimes and hidden them from the authorities at Isabella’s request. Perhaps by keeping your books here.”

  Sancha backed away. Enrique followed. “Tell me, did Isabella inform my brother that you have the volumes hidden here? I won’t bother to inquire whether she asked Fernando his opinion on the matter, seeking his dreaded permission first. Isabella does whatever she wants, the same as you. At least until now.”

  Sancha stopped pulling in her shoulders.

  If she were preparing to do battle with him, she would never win.

  “Finally, I understand your intent.” She looked down her nose at him. “You mean to secure my obedience to your will by threatening me.”

  “Never, and you know so in your heart. I simply want you to see reason. You had no right to bring these books here and put my brother, his wife, and their coming child at risk. For a caring woman with the peasants, your behavior with your own family has been quite inconsiderate.”

  Her cheeks flushed darker than they had before. She pressed her fingers to her forehead.

  He wanted to say something to make matters better but couldn’t dismiss the gravity of her actions. She wasn’t a foolish woman except when it came to healing.

  “I was wrong to have done this.” She dropped her hand. “Isabella only suggested the room because she knows I worry about saving this knowledge for future healers. I shall move the books at once.”

  “Where? Back to your castle?”

  “No. Too many already know of my desire for knowledge and question why I would prefer books to parties. The convent is equally dangerous. None of the sisters would betray me, of course. They want to learn as I do. The sacerdote who oversees them is an arrogant man, wanting to keep women from knowing too much. He would readily contact the authorities.” She strode back and forth, chewing on the edge of her thumb. “There has to be another place.”

  “There is. Mine.”

  She stopped. “Your castle? No. Never.”

  “Why? I have even more hiding places in mine than Fernando has here.”

  “And the same risk of discovery. You rail at me for putting him in danger, then offer to do the same for yourself?”

  “My ties to Isabella and you are nowhere near as strong as his.” Yet. “My suggestion is the perfect solution.”

  “For who? In addition to keeping my books safe, I need them at hand to study and perform my experiments.”

  “You can do whatever you need at my castle. If you require an entire wing and every mouse on the estate, you shall have both.”

  “No.” She paced even faster. “What of the peasants I have seen to for years? If—”

  “Years?” He regarded her clothing. “I thought last night was the first time you dressed as a boy.”

  “It was. I tended to the peasants at the convent, though not to the extent I would have liked.”

  “At my estate, freedom is yours.”

  “To do what? Decide which of your demands to obey first?”

  Oh, this woman. Intractable. Maddening. And unfortunately, irresistible to him. “My only request is for you to remain safe.”

  “Under your protection.”

  “What else?”

  She advanced so quickly, he instinctively stepped back.

  “Under your protection as what? Your wife?”

  He grinned. “Say the word and we shall wed.”

  “If I remain silent on the matter?”

  His smile faded at how she persisted in wounding him, though he didn’t believe she did so intentionally. Her response to his caress and kisses told him what was in her heart. Her trust, however, was another matter. She seemed convinced he’d shackle her will and spirit if they married.

  He’d expect some obedience, of course. What man wouldn’t? But he’d never demand she agree with everything he said and wanted. He needed a woman to stand by his side, not behind or in front of him, as she seemed determined to do. “Your response to me on the ride here said more than words ever could.”

  She sighed. “Enrique.”

  “No. Nothing you say will change my mind on the matter. I offer you my home and protection, while also allowing you to do whatever you want, within reason. Few men would be as permissive.”

  “With my life, my desires, and within whatever you consider reasonable. Very well, allow me to be as permissive with you as you want to be with me. Anyone can clearly see your lust is getting in the way of your good sense. You and I would make a horrible match. To spare you a lifetime of misery at my side, the answer is no.”

  He opened his mouth to retort.

  She held up her hand. “Never suggest I live with you without a chaperone as tongues would wag at my unwed state. Before you enlist Isabella for the position, know this: she will never leave Fernando’s side to watch over my virtue.”

  “Lust is only part of what I feel for you, as you well know. You could live at my castle undetected. We have no reason to announce you staying there.” />
  “What of your servants? Are they blind and mute? Or do you hope none of them will gossip?”

  “Each of them and their offspring has been with my family for years and are as loyal to me as I will always be to them. You have two choices. Find a place to store your books on your own, travel alone to villages to heal, not knowing what dangers you face, or accept what I offer. A safe place for you and your books, a chance for you to continue healing.”

  “With you always at my side.”

  She made the prospect sound more horrible than the worst marriage. He should have stormed out but couldn’t, refusing to let her thoughtless words deter him. “I will be at your side on the ride to the villages and our return to the castle. If you prefer I not witness your treatments, I can always remain outside the huts and wait until you finish.”

  “How is that fair to you?” She flapped her hands. “You deserve more.”

  Indeed, he did and hoped to win her over with his endless patience and restraint. Given what she’d just said, Enrique sensed he was already making some progress. “I need your answer.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself.

  He wished he knew the words to convince her that with him nothing bad would happen, only good. Their growing bond, understanding rather than uncertainty, unparalleled love. A future at each other’s side, sons and daughters, a family.

  He could only hope her indecision wouldn’t last so long they’d both be too old to have children.

  She exhaled loudly, seeming to shrink with the loss of air. “Very well.”

  His pulse ticked up. “Very well what?”

  “I will move my books to your castle.”

  He suppressed a grin, not wanting to appear too happy. “Will you move yourself with them?”

  She lifted her face to the ceiling. “You may not like what you see when I heal others.”

  “Will you promise to treat me if I swoon?”

  Her laughter pealed through the space, capturing another piece of his heart. Her subsequent sigh threatened words that might wound him again.

  “Do we leave now?” she asked.

  Although Enrique wanted nothing more, he shook his head. “The guests might see us and wonder what we do. We best wait until everyone departs. During the delay, I can send for one of my carriages. You can use the transport to take your books to my estate.”