Chapter Sixteen #3
Annaleigh didn’t hesitate. She didn’t even look at War, perhaps to not see his reaction, perhaps to silently convey it meant nothing. She simply took Talus’ hand and held it tightly.
“There,” she said. “Better?”
He grunted softly. “Much,” he said. “I do not want to die alone.”
He meant it. Tears stung Annaleigh’s eyes as she looked up at the physic, who was standing on the other side of Talus.
The man simply shook his head faintly. No hope.
Realizing that, Annaleigh swallowed hard, swallowing away the emotion she felt for the life of a friend cut short.
Annoying or not, Talus had always been kind to her. She did indeed consider him a friend.
“Ye willna,” she said after a moment. “I’ll not leave ye.”
“That gives me comfort,” Talus murmured. “My lady… Annie… I know you told me that you were not in need of a husband, but I must confess something.”
“What?”
“I was determined to convince you otherwise.”
A smile tugged at Annaleigh’s lips. She’d known that from the beginning, when he’d tried to woo her and she would knock him back, and then he’d simply overlook the fact that she wasn’t interested in him and try again. That had been their game. But this was the first time that he had admitted it.
“Is that so?” she said, pretending he hadn’t been so obvious about it. “We’re still friends, Talus. We will always be friends.”
He sighed again, heavily, but didn’t reply.
Collingwood bent over him, putting a hand to his forehead, his cheek, before pulling the hand away.
The expression on his face told Annaleigh that nothing had changed with Talus’ fever.
He’d been running a high fever for several hours, at least, more than likely while he was sleeping during the night.
Annaleigh and the physic and even Jemma, who had also been in the hall, had been tending other wounded as Talus had slept peacefully, so they hadn’t noticed his temperature rising.
There was really no telling how long he’d been with fever.
Sometimes, fevers could last for days or even a week or two, depending on the severity, but high fevers could be deadly.
They would break down the body quickly as the poison infected the lungs and heart and other things needed to survive.
Soon, the body would begin shutting down because of too much poison and too high a fever.
Everyone in that small chamber had seen something like that happen, now unexpectedly with Talus.
Life was a fragile thing, indeed.
“Annie,” Talus said, his eyes rolling open. “Will you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
He was fixed on her. “I know that you do not love me,” he said. “I know that you do not care for me in a romantic sense, but I want to give something to you.”
Annaleigh didn’t like the sound of that. “Ye needna give me anything, Talus,” she assured him. “Friends dunna expect gifts from one another.”
“Please,” he said, begging her. “I wish to do this. Please… will you listen?”
She didn’t want to, but she reluctantly agreed. “Speak, then.”
He swallowed hard, but as he held Annaleigh’s hand, she could feel him tremble. His sweaty hands were beginning to quiver. In fact, his entire body was beginning to shake.
“My father, Tobin, is the Earl of East Anglia,” he said.
“I have an older brother, Tevin, who is Viscount Winterton. He will inherit the title and the property, but I hold the title Lord Rivenhall. My father gave it to me, a landed title, so that I would have some income. Rivenhall has two villages that I collect taxes from. I have some wealth of my own.”
His trembling was growing worse and Annaleigh patted his hand. “That’s very nice, Talus,” she said. “I dinna know that.”
He lifted his head, looking at her intently. “I want to give it to you.”
She was confused. “Give me what?” she said. “Ye canna give me yer title.”
He shook his head. “You misunderstand,” he said. “I can give you my title. As Lady Rivenhall, the income would become yours when I am gone.”
Annaleigh’s eyes widened. “Talus, I canna…”
He cut her off. “Please, Annie,” he pleaded. “Please, marry me. Let me die a contented man, even if you do not love me. I’ve never loved anyone but you and I want to give this to you, as I’d always hoped to.”
Annaleigh was horrified but she refrained from telling him so.
He was still holding her hand, gazing up at her beseechingly, and she felt pressured.
Cornered and pressured. She simply couldn’t lie to the man or take something that she wasn’t entitled to just because he was dying.
It occurred to her that War was listening, as she knew he was standing behind her, somewhere, but she didn’t take his opinion or even their blossoming relationship into consideration.
The conversation, at the moment, was purely between her and Talus.
“Talus,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I dunna need or want yer lands or title. ’Tis something ye must give tae the woman ye choose tae marry, and the woman who chooses ye. That is something special, only for her.”
He was disagreeing with her even as she finished. “There will not be another,” he said. “My body is wracked with fever. I know that I will not survive the night. Please, Annie… please, marry me. Let me do this for you. Let me die a happy man.”
Annaleigh didn’t want to do it, not even for a dying man. “I canna,” she said, pulling her hand from his grip. “I’m sorry, Talus, but I canna. It would be a lie. I would be taking something from ye that doesna belong tae me.”
“But…”
“Nay,” she said firmly. “Dunna ask me again. It wouldna be right. A woman who would take advantage of a sickly man is a woman of great dishonor. Ye canna ask me tae be dishonorable, knowing that ye willna… that I willna… nay, I willna do it. I’m sorry.”
He just looked at her, disappointment etched on his face.
He dropped his hand without trying to reclaim hers, closing his eyes and turning his face away.
Unable to look at him any longer, Annaleigh stood up and turned around only to see that the entire chamber had heard the exchange.
Humiliated, she quickly pushed through the group, fleeing the chamber.
Tears filled her eyes as she entered the foyer of Castle Questing and she wiped at them furiously.
The more she wiped, the more they fell. She was walking, though she didn’t know where.
She was simply walking, anything to get away from that horrible and emotional scene in War’s borrowed chamber.
But the mural stairs that led to the upper chambers were off to her right and she spied them.
Like a moth to a flame, she went straight to them and raced up the stairs, up to her chamber high above in Castle Questing’s towering keep.
She’d just made it to the third floor when she heard a sound behind her.
War was right on her heels.
“God’s Bones,” she said, nearly tripping on the top step. “Ye startled me.”
He smiled faintly. “I did not mean to,” he said. “You ran off and I wanted to make sure you were well. What du Reims asked of you in there… he should not have done that, but I understand why he did it.”
Annaleigh sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “Do ye?” she said. “Because I dunna. I dunna know how he could expect me tae be so… so shallow. I would marry a dying man simply tae take his money? How can he ask me such a thing?”
“It’s more than that,” War said quietly. “He wants some part of him to continue. His legacy, as it were. As his wife, you would represent him even though he’s gone.”
“I will not marry him.”
War could see that she was standing on principle. She felt very strongly that to grant Talus’ request would be taking advantage of him and he had to admire a woman who wasn’t greedy or petty. One more thing yet to admire about her.
“Where were you going?” he asked.
She turned and gestured to her chamber. “There,” she said. “I need tae… think. Tae breathe.”
He came up the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her for the door. “You need to rest for a few moments,” he said. “You’ve been taking care of wounded all night and you are exhausted. Go into your chamber and rest a while.”
She let him push her to the door. It was unlatched, as it always was, and she pushed it open.
A young lady’s boudoir was revealed beyond.
Annaleigh wandered in and sat heavily on the chair near the bed, bending over to remove her shoes, but War stood in the doorway.
For propriety’s sake, he would go no further.
In fact, he was pushing the boundaries as it was by being where he wasn’t supposed to be.
“I will return for you in a while,” he said. “Sleep if you can.”
“Wait,” Annaleigh said, shoe in-hand. “Where are ye going?”
He paused, smiling faintly. “Back down where I belong,” he said. “If Lady de Wolfe catches me up here, she might take a stick to me.”
Annaleigh nodded, though it was with regret. “Possibly,” she said. “But I would like for ye tae stay. Ye dunna have tae go further than the doorway, but I would like for ye tae stay. Just for a few moments.”
His smile grew. “If I stay, you will not rest,” he said. “We will chatter like two magpies.”
“I like magpies,” she said, grinning. “Ye’re preparing tae leave Castle Questing, War. Would ye really relinquish a moment of time like this tae something as mundane as sleep?”
Immediately, he shook his head. “Nay,” he said flatly. “But I also do not want to be selfish and inconsiderate. You have been tending wounded all night.”
“And ye have been up all night, too, I’d wager.”
He conceded the point. “I have.”
She put her shoe onto the ground by the bed and went to remove the other one. “Was the battle at Coldstream terrible?”
He shrugged, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his big arms. “Any battle is terrible,” he said. “You would know that.”
He was referring back to the first time they’d met. “It is never a pleasant thing,” she said. “Tell me something. Did ye ever tell anyone that I tended ye back at Etal?”