Chapter 37 #2
My elation soared. I had finally done it, finding the right man to grant my brother’s freedom. I lifted my head, offering him my brightest smile despite the tear trailing down my cheek. “Felipe, my gratitude would know no bounds. I’d be forever in your debt.”
His thumb brushed away my tears. “Then could I ask that in return you be forever in my arms?”
My veins pulsed with nervous energy. “Is this . . . a marriage proposal?” I had not expected this. Had never even believed it possible.
“Of a sort.” He ducked his eyes. “Not one bound by laws of man, but a marriage in every other respect.” He raised his gaze to meet mine, watching me as my brows furrowed in confusion.
Then, slowly, understanding began to sink in, and I narrowed my eyes to slits.
Anger, thick and hot, pulsed through me, and I pushed against the prince’s chest to free myself of his conniving grasp.
“So all you’ve said and done has been a lie?
Was it only part of a long scheme to seduce me? ”
He caught up my hand, keeping me there, forcing me to face him.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Margaretha. I do .
. .” Felipe averted his eyes, and his cheeks almost pinkened, “. . . love you. I know what I ask offends you, but you must understand my situation. Things are such with England and my father’s empire that you know I must make an alliance for the good of my family, my people. I cannot think of myself.”
“You think of no one but yourself, Your Grace.” I tried again to wriggle my wrist free of his grip.
“I know the kind of woman you are, that you would never come to me without persuasion, but you must know the kind of man I am. I won’t give you up.
I would that you be my wife in spirit. Live with me, love with me in every kingdom and court I travel.
I need you with me, Margaretha. In time I hope you will forgive me my coercion.
Your brother will be free and well, and I will show you such love that you’ll not regret having chosen me. ”
I stopped struggling against him, knowing I must wait for him to release me if I ever hoped to leave. He took it as a sign of compliance, using the opportunity to pull me closer.
“I know you’re human.” He gave me a teasing smile. “You admitted it yourself.”
He brushed the back of my neck with his fingers until the hairs on my arms rose, then he slowly, carefully moved his lips toward mine.
I didn’t move, didn’t close my eyes. I stayed a statue under his soft kiss.
He hugged me against him, nuzzling his face in my neck.
“Even after the stink of the dungeons, you still smell of flowers.”
His lips traveled over my neck, my jaw, my earlobe, then he whispered, “Be with me, Margaretha. I will make you happy. Let me love you as my heart dictates.” His voice was not commanding, nor seductive, but pleading, and it seemed he truly thought he loved me.
He didn’t know what love was.
True love meant a willingness to sacrifice anything, even your very life to protect those you hold dear.
And he’d just told me he could save Samuel. He would save Samuel.
How much did I love my brother? Was I really willing to sacrifice anything to save him?
Footsteps echoing up the stairs made us separate, but Felipe gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go.
“What do you think, Vesalius?” he asked the physician.
“It’s not good. Not good.” Vesalius shook his head at the ground. “An advanced case of pneumonia.”
“But what can be done?” I asked. “How will he be treated?”
“Given permission”—Vesalius glanced at Felipe—“I could administer more tobacco water, maybe do some bloodletting, but I’m not certain how much it would help. Without a change of location, I fear his time is short. A few weeks. Maybe a month.”
My sharp intake of breath drew the eyes of both men. “Weeks?”
“Do not worry,” Felipe soothed. “You can get him the help he needs.”
Vesalius looked back and forth between us but said nothing.
“I wish to bid him farewell.” I started down the steps, but the physician stopped me.
“He is at rest now. Sleep is vital.”
I nodded, working to swallow the tight ache in my throat as we moved outside the short doors and back into the palace corridor.
“It will be supper soon, and I must change.” Felipe took my hand, pressing something cold and hard into my palm as he whispered in my ear, “It’s a copy of Thieuloye’s key.
Whenever you’ve a mind for escape, I’ll await you in my chambers.
” He gave my earlobe a quick kiss, then turned to Vesalius. “See her to her rooms.”
My hand curled around the key, and I bowed as the prince departed down the corridor.
“Shall we?” Vesalius motioned me forward, allowing me to take the lead out of the corridor and back into the arcade.
We walked in silence, my head roiling with half-thoughts and internal arguments.
Beside me the physician snapped once or twice as though he would speak but seemed to think better of it and remained silent.
The snapping became a humorous distraction, and I found myself actually smiling when I asked, “How are your rats?”
“Hmm? Oh, the rats. Well, yes, they’re mostly very dead.
All dead now, though the strangest thing happened with rat number four.
When I’d left my room the other night, he lay dead on the table beside the others, but the next morning when I returned, his tiny squeaks caught my attention.
He was breathing, and his body trembled.
He’d even revived enough to move his limbs.
Now I’m wondering if he had been sustained with food or kept warm by a fire or blanket, would he have lived? ” He rubbed a hand over his beard.
“You mean he’s dead again?”
“Oh yes, quite. I threw him out the window with the others. But it reminded me of the stories I’d heard from the emperor’s Spanish sailors to the New World.
Stories of people, dead and buried, who came back to life, stumbling into their homes wearing their burial clothes.
Maybe they, and my rat, weren’t truly dead but in a stupor.
A sleep or paralysis that, if I could learn to manage, would allow my surgery patients to undergo painless operations. No more brandy or biting sticks.”
“You are quite different from the barber-surgeon of my village. When his patients complain of pain, he blames them for being weak, yelling over their screams and demanding they calm their hysterics.”
“Yes, I’ve seen that before. It’s guilty work putting someone through agony, especially if the chance of helping isn’t as great as we hope. But we do want the best for our patients. Physicians go into this work because they wish to help.”
I smiled at him, and we resumed our silent walk, the weight of my worries again falling heavy on me when another round of his snapping caught my attention.
“I’m very sorry about your brother, Comitissa.”
I nodded my gratitude for his sympathy.
“I would help you, if you ever needed it.”
“Help me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve traveled the courts with the Habsburgs for many years.
I know the prince. He’s used to getting his way no matter the means, and though it must pain you to hear it, your brother’s life will soon be beyond saving.
Yours is not.” He set a hand on my elbow, stopping me in my walk and prompting me to face him.
“Truly, I will aid you in any way I can.”
Vesalius’s words made me wonder how he understood so well my situation with the prince. Squeezing his hand still resting at my elbow, I offered my thanks. “I promise to ask for your help if ever the need arises.”
But there was no way he had the power save my brother and no way he could help me out of my situation with the prince. That choice was mine alone to make.