Chapter 10 #2
I smoothed a hand over her hair, cradling her head close to the curve of my neck.
She’d got a lot out in a single breath. My lady, she was efficient.
There were a lot of things she needed to do.
An unfair amount, really. But it all would be there still after we’d stolen some moments.
Grateful for these stolen moments, I held her close, hoping she’d join me in my calm.
She shook her head again, a violent no. I wished I could ask her what thoughts interrupted our time together and how I could end them. But I had no domain in her mind. At least, none that she didn’t give me.
Some of the tension had started to ebb. As she softened against me, she fitted better against my chest. I breathed in deeply, lifting her with the expansion of my ribs, hoping she felt some of the contentment I did.
Over top of her head and from the corner of my eye I saw a flicker of movement far too late to do anything to extract myself from her grasp.
I’d left the door open.
The relief that rushed through me when I saw it was only Thomas was short-lived, because beside him was a steely-haired, tired-looking Kaelson.
There was no explaining to do, no lies that would carry any weight. I refused to let go of the woman in my arms for their proprietary. So, my cheek still on top of Audrey’s head, I kept on holding her.
The veterans veered off. Blocking the corridor, no doubt. I closed my eyes and knew I should care.
If word trickled into the keep that the lady, who had fast become their hero by lifting the plague, filling their bellies, and warming their feet, was in my arms…
She shuddered and the smell of her father crept up into my nostrils once more. The odds of him embracing me as a son-by-law seemed relatively low. I pressed my lips to her hair, knowing I was complicating her life. She knew the risks we ran better than any of us. And here she was, still.
“I don’t think I can do this today,” she said, eventually, separating from me, her eyes on the parchment. “No, I think I can, but I don’t think I should.”
Until she looked up at me, as if unsure, I didn’t realize it wasn’t a statement of fact but a request for validation.
“I don’t think you should either,” I agreed.
She drew away from me, bracing herself, visibly attempting to gather her thoughts.
The process went on for a significantly longer time than usual.
Her shoulders were tightening again, her body curling down in stress.
As gently as I could, I offered, “Mayhap some time with Storm would be productive now?”
She hesitated, her eyes dipping down to the parchment spread around her in an unusually haphazard fashion. “There are other things I should be doing.”
Those other things had waited during the plague. “Will a few hours delay make a world of difference?” I asked her, hoping I wasn’t pushing too hard.
“No.” She let out a long sigh that wasn’t as resigned as it was distressed. “No, but the list will have grown by then. How can I keep on top of it if it’s allowed to grow unchecked?”
I considered crumpling up that parchment, pulling her into my arms, and making her forget the whole list.
“You’ll be more efficient when you’re rested,” I said instead.
“You’re right.” She let out a long breath. “I don’t think I can deal with Riordan’s mother again, Chay. I might break her nose too so they’re a matching pair.”
I grinned at her joke. “If the remaining family wants to be involved, I’d be your champion.”
She made a noise of contentment. “You’re too kind, sir.
” She removed the ring of keys in her belt without even a jingle.
I suspected it was a Matri’sion magic trick to have metal that met but never chimed.
“Tomorrow I’ve much to see to, but the day after we ought to go riding, see if we can bring in game. If the weather permits.”
The idea of getting out of the city made my heart sit lighter in my chest. “We could overnight in a local village, see the status of the residents while we add to their cookpots.”
She made a noise of agreement, her eyes lingering on my lips. “Mayhap the beekeeper’s hut.”
The memories of the first time we’d shared together made the blood in my body go south. To keep my ability to think, I imagined Isolde dropping her bedroll beside us and sending me a no-nonsense look. “Mayhap,” I agreed, letting her enjoy the fantasy. She stayed close as we left the little room.
As predicted, Kaelson and Thomas were barring the hallway just around the corner. She started when she saw them, her shoulders lifting toward her ears ever so slightly. I held onto my impatience.
“Riordan’s escaped, my lady,” Kaelson said, the words impersonal. “He attempted to break into the treasury.”
A chill settled over me. And they’d just stood there, waiting?
“The guards he attacked will live. He fled and collapsed in the stables. He’s in the infirmary, but without a mage, I doubt he’ll make it through the night.”
“The infirmary?” Audrey asked. “With Isolde and the widow?”
“We moved the widow to her own room, my lady,” Thomas said with a bow. “When we heard Riordan was coming in, we thought it might grow crowded.”
“By the Son,” she muttered. “And the guards he attacked? Infirmary?”
“Lesser hall, my lady.”
“So, everyone he’s hurt has been removed from the cleanest, best provisioned place to make it comfortable for he and his family?” she clarified, stiffly. “Is that how we’ve handled this?”
Kaelson bowed his head. “It was, my lady.”
“Next time,” she said, “I don’t care how much coin they’ve got, or who they’re friends with, if they’ve done the crime, throw them in a room by themselves.”
“He was the most sorely wounded, my lady,” Kaelson offered. “And it hasn’t been ruled whether the disagreement between he and widow Fitzherbert was started by Riordan.”
The look she sent Kaelson was more venomous than a steppe viper.
I struggled to hide my grin. “I’ve four injured people,” she said, crisply.
“One cannot be with the other three. Then, in the future, we avail as many as we can to the resources we have.” She nodded to them in finality.
“And I need a second bloody infirmary. Tell Ettie.”
She set off along the corridor in the direction of the stables.
“My lady,” Kaelson called. “Riordan’s mother.”
“I’ll deal with her after the watch cries the next hour,” Audrey sent, without looking.
The two older men shot me a look I didn’t try to read. I shrugged. They were probably fortunate she was functional at all, really. “See you in the hour,” I offered, then set off after her.