Chapter Ten #5
Dissolving some of the whitish powder in the wine, he went back over to the bed and gently gathered Joselyn into one massive arm while carefully coaxing her to drink the contents.
She was semi-lucid and able to follow his instructions somewhat but didn’t like the taste of the dissolved powder.
Stephen still held her in one arm as he set the cup aside and was surprised, when he looked back down at her, to realize she was awake and focused on him. He smiled faintly.
“Are you truly awake?” he whispered. “Or am I to receive more demands for apple butter?”
She blinked at him. “Apple butter?” she repeated slowly. “I… I had a dream that my mother was making apple butter. Did I ask for some?”
He was more relieved than he could express that she was lucid and able to respond. It was the first such occurrence since the arrow had plowed into her back and he took her left hand, kissing it tenderly.
“You did not ask, madam, you commanded,” he grinned at her. “Unfortunately, you are the cook in this family. I cannot make it.”
She sighed faintly. “I was having unsettling dreams,” she murmured. “My grandmother was there, too. And my father. We were at Allanton and then everything burst into flame.”
“Dreams can be strange sometimes, especially with illness.” His hand toyed with her fingers as he held her. “How do you feel?”
“Very sore,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “How badly am I wounded?”
His smile faded somewhat. “Bad enough,” he replied. “The arrow did some damage but it was not as bad as I had feared.”
“Did you fix it?”
“I did. Do you not remember?”
“Nay.”
He said a silent prayer of thanks that she did not remember the agony and the screaming from the previous day.
It was, however, something he would carry with him for the rest of his life.
He would never be able to forget her howls as he held her down and dug into her beautiful back.
He leaned over and kissed her hot forehead once, twice, before pulling away and fixing her in the eye.
“You will heal,” he assured her softly. “But you and I will come to an understanding, madam. No more withholding truths from me. No more running off to try and save the entire town of Berwick.”
She looked away from him. “I was not trying to save Berwick. I was trying to save you.”
“I understand, but I do not need saving. As it was, I had to save you and that put us all in danger. Do you understand?”
She nodded, once, and closed her eyes. Not having the heart to scold her any further, he kissed her cheek and hugged her as tightly as he could without causing her pain.
“I will say, however, that I admire your bravery, Lady Pembury,” he whispered. “But I have never been so terrified in all my life as I was when I realized you were gone. I never want to go through that horror again. Will you promise me?”
She began to cry softly and he rocked her gently, holding her close and feeling her heated body against him.
The fever was mild but she was still very ill, so he laid her gently on the bed and pulled the coverlet over her.
He thought she had drifted off to sleep as he rose from the bed to put his medicaments away, but she whispered softly to him.
“Stephen?” she breathed.
He paused. “What is it, love?”
“Lay here with me, please,” she murmured. “I am afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
Her eyes opened, like pale blue stones within her pasty face. “I am afraid I am going to die.”
“You are not going to die.”
Her eyes welled again and her lip began to tremble. “God is punishing me,” she wept softly. “I lied to you and God is punishing me. He guided that arrow into my back.”
He shook his head. “That is not true. God would not punish you so.”
She wept pitifully. “Aye, ’tis true. I will never lie to you again, I swear it. I do not want to die. I do not want to leave you.”
She was off on a crying jag. Stephen set down the things in his hand and sat back down on the mattress.
Very carefully, he stretched out beside her, pulling her against him as best he could without jostling her shoulder.
She groaned once or twice before he found a better position and they were finally settled.
She calmed as his arms went around her, snuggling against him as far as she could go without causing herself pain.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His head was against hers, his mouth on her hair. “My pleasure.”
“I love you, Stephen.”
He kissed her dark head reverently. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Tate came to the chamber sometime around noon to see how Lady Pembury was faring.
He quietly opened the door only to find both Joselyn and Stephen sleeping the sleep of the dead as the world around them went on.
The day was sunny, the bailey busy with life, but in their chamber, Stephen and Joselyn were completely unaware.
Their world was quiet and protected. With a faint smile, Tate shut the door, posted a guard, and left with the instructions that they were not to be disturbed.
Even Tilda was turned away when she returned with the water.
Everything was going to be alright.