Immortal Love (18 page)

A
t the sound of
Dominick shuffling around in their chamber, Eleanor fought her way
awake. Her body felt heavy, and gray mists of fog muddled her
thinking

He opened the shutters to reveal a sky
shrouded in a cloak of gray. But the worst of the storm had
passed.

“I will be going out today to see the
damage,” he said. “Little work can be done today due to the
rain.”

“I—” Eleanor’s voice croaked. She swallowed
to clear her throat, but pain slid down it like the edges of a
knife. She tried again. “I will see what needs to be done on the
inside,” she rasped hoarsely.

Dominick furrowed his brows. “You should stay
in bed today.”

She waved off the idea. “Nonsense. It’s but a
sore throat.”

“Stay in bed, Eleanor. There is nothing that
needs to be done today that can’t be done tomorrow.” He grabbed his
mantle off a hook. “I will send Martha up with some tea and honey.
That may ease your throat a bit.”

“Thank you.”

Then Dominick walked out the door.

Eleanor lay for a moment, her body begging to
stay in bed, but she knew she should check the damage, too. She
wondered if her seedlings had managed to survive the storm's
onslaught. By sheer will she pulled herself out of bed. Her muscles
protested the act with an ache in every part of her body. Just as
she was putting on her gown, Martha entered with a tray of tea and
biscuits.

“Lord Dominick said you might be needin’
this.” Her eyes widened when she looked at Eleanor. “My lady, you
are not well enough to be out of bed this morning.”

“I’m fine, Martha,” she said as her shoulders
slumped. “I’m just a little tired is all.”

The older woman felt Eleanor’s forehead.
“You’ve a fever coming, my dear.”

“It’s because I only just got out of bed.”
She took Martha’s hand in hers. “Don’t fret over me. I just need
some of your wonderful herb tea, to feel good as new.”

The servant eyed her suspiciously. “You must
take care today. We nearly lost you in that storm. If it hadn’t
been for the master—” Martha choked on her tears.

“Don’t worry about me, I will take care of
myself.” She gave the tearful servant a reassuring hug. “I promise.
I was thinking today would be a good day to thoroughly clean the
kitchen and bakery.”

“That will be quite a task. Are you sure
you’re up to it?”

Eleanor shrugged. “It has to be done some
time. We might as well take care of it while nothing can be done
outside. We will need all of the kitchen servants to help.”

“That will not be a problem since the storm
has driven everyone inside.”

The first few sips of tea were painful, but
soon the hot liquid soothed Eleanor’s raw throat. After finishing
the tea and barely touching the biscuits, she felt fortified enough
to tackle the job of cleaning the kitchens. Her knees were a little
shaky as she climbed down the stairs, but she ignored it and moved
forward.

Soon she was knee deep in ashes and soot,
cleaning out the cooking pit, sweeping ashes from the oven,
scrubbing tables down to new wood. She and two scullery maids swept
and scrubbed the stone floors. When she was satisfied with the
kitchen, she and Martha moved on to the pantry.

Since Dominick’s arrival, it was full to the
rafters with bags of grain, salted meat and barrels of ale and
wine. It took the rest of the afternoon to organize it.

By the end of the day, Eleanor could not go
on. She sat in a chair in the kitchen, unable to move. Laying her
head on the table, she fought the urge to fall asleep. Waves of
fatigue washed over her.

Ruth touched her shoulder. “My lady, you must
rest. Martha and I can finish up what is left to be done here.”

Eleanor didn’t have the strength to argue. “I
will lie down for a little while.”

Ruth escorted her up
the stairs to her chambers and helped her to bed before quietly
leaving the room. Never had Eleanor felt so tired. The dagger of
pain in her throat still tormented her. Her eyes burned even upon
closing them.
Sleep, that
was what she needed. She gave
herself up to it and fell deep into sleep.

D
ominick returned at
dusk after having spent the day with Randolf and Erik, pulling
broken limbs from trees, stones that came loose off the gatehouse
walls, and boards from make-shift lean-tos the day after the
storm.

Dominick surveyed the area, thankful the
damage from the storm had been minimal. Fortunately, the fields
were still too young to cause much concern. Light rain fell much of
the day after the storm, but people were still able to clean up
most of the damage.

He noticed some shingles had broken free from
the castle roof. They would have to be repaired once it was dry
enough to climb up there safely. To his overwhelming relief, things
were still pretty sound in Godwin.

As he entered his chambers he was surprised
to see Eleanor sleeping. He wondered if she’d been there all day,
but the gown draped across a chair suggested otherwise.

Choosing not to disturb her, he changed out
of his damp clothes. Then he built a fire in the hearth to take out
the chill in the chambers. He then left to join Randolf and Erik
for the evening meal, and sent Martha up with a plate for
Eleanor.

As the meal was served, he turned to Erik.
“Has there been any sign of McPhearson’s men near Godwin?”

“We haven’t found any. Maybe McPhearson has
given up.”

“It wouldn’t be like him,” Dominick said. He
is too arrogant to accept defeat and keep to his own borders.”

“Any problems at the gates?” he asked
Randolf.

His brother shrugged. “One or two suspicious
characters, but we turned them away.” He leaned back in his chair.
“The only people who have been entering are tradesmen looking for
work.

“I would like to think McPhearson has given
up, but I know he hasn’t,” Dominick said, and took a drink his
ale.

“We can stop him should he try another
assault,” Randolf stated.

“We have seen the man’s treachery. What he
cannot achieve with soldiers, he will try to accomplish with
deception,” Erik said.

“Let’s just hope the dead man we sent him
made him too wary to send more spies here.” Dominick said. The
other two men agreed. “As soon as the weather clears, we will have
to set up a field for training.” He looked toward Dominick. “You
have been using your soldiers as farm hands and goat herders, but
their fighting skills must be kept sharp in case McPhearson
attacks.”

“We can set up the training field tomorrow,
rain or not. Our men cannot be allowed to become soft.” Dominick
stood to leave. “I will set up a rotation for training. There isn’t
much to be done out in the fields. Enough people have been coming
to Godwin. Many farmers have come to rent land. We should have
enough people to care for the crops.”

After their plans were set for the next day
Dominick bid Randolf and Erik good night and headed toward his
chamber. He found Eleanor still sleeping soundly. The food Martha
had placed on the table remained untouched. His eyes narrowed in
concern. He listened to her breathing. It was deep and steady. He
resisted the urge to touch her for fear of disturbing her
sleep.

He climbed in to bed. His foot bumped the
heavy metal of his sword. How much longer would this go on? She was
learning to trust him, and he prayed it wouldn’t be too much
longer. Her kiss was his last thought before he drifted off to
sleep.

It seemed that he had only just closed his
eyes when he felt the tremors. At first he thought he was dreaming,
but the vibration persisted. Fully awake, the shaking came from
Eleanor’s side of the bed. Rolling over, he saw her small body
curled into a tight ball. She shook violently.

Alarmed, he touched her brow. It felt as
though she were seated too near a fire.

“Eleanor,” he called out.

Her eyes opened, but they were vacant.
Instantly he was out of bed he pulled on his breeches and ran down
to the hall to his brother’s chamber.

Randolf opened the door before Dominick got
there.

Dominick didn’t give him time to ask
questions. “Eleanor is raging with fever. Go fetch Martha.”

Dominick didn’t wait for his brother. He ran
back to Eleanor’s bedside. Feeling helpless, he pulled the robes up
tighter over her and pressed his hands on her body to still its
violent shaking. She began to thrash about, throwing the covers
off. She spoke unintelligible words as her head moved from side to
side. Dominick trapped both her hands in one of his, while stroking
her forehead.

“Calm yourself, my sweet. I’m here.”

“Martha!” Eleanor called out in a desperate
plea.

It tore at his heart to see her in this
state. Worry consumed him. Touching her was more a comfort to him
than it was to her. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Everything will be all
right. Martha will be here soon.”

As though he willed it Martha burst through
the door with Zenon and Randolf right behind her.

“God’s blood!” She turned to Zenon. “Bring me
boiled water and my herb bag. Zenon immediately left to get what
she needed.

Dominick moved off the bed to allow the maid
to do her work. In what seemed like no time, Zenon returned with
two small pots of water. One he placed in front of the hearth and
the other he handed to Martha.

Randolf pulled Dominick out of the way as
Zenon moved to Martha’s side. He ladled water into a cup and handed
it to her. She placed a few dried herbs in it. Zenon helped Eleanor
into a sitting position while the maid spooned the mixture down her
throat. Eleanor sputtered and choked, but Martha was able to get
most of the cup’s contents in her.

A few minutes later, Eleanor’s shaking
stopped, but Dominick could still see the flush of fever on her
cheeks. Martha piled the bed robes high while Zenon built a roaring
fire. Soon their chamber was like an oven. Dominick could feel
tendrils of hair at his nape becoming wet with perspiration that
dripped down his back.

Randolf sat with Dominick while he watched
Martha and Zenon minister to his wife. Even in prison, Dominick
hadn’t felt that helpless. Eleanor was sick and there was nothing
he could do to help her.

He watched her chest rise and fall, breaths
deep and even. His chest rose and fell with hers. Staring into her
face, he wondered how she’d become so important to him. His mind
went back to their first meeting. In the beginning she had been his
duty, but immediately, her delicate beauty struck him. Later, he
admired her spirit and her devotion to her people. The woman
deserved a long life. He sent up a silent prayer on her behalf.

Throughout the night, Eleanor had bouts of
delirium, calling for her mother, shouting profanities at her
father and crying in fear of McPhearson. Dominick knew that in her
feverish mind she saw the demons that haunted her. She called out
to him several times, but it had only been his name. He would come
to her side, telling her he was there, but to his despair it was as
if he were talking to someone under water. She couldn’t hear
him.

By morning Martha looked raged. Randolf and
Zenon had left earlier to take care of the running of the
castle.

“Martha, go to your chamber and rest yourself
for a while. I will give her the herb mixture should she wake,
Dominick said.” Martha looked back at Eleanor with concern. “I will
alert you if she should need your help.” He pulled her from the
side of the bed and led her toward the door.

“Aye, my lord, I will rest for a while.”

“Good. Eleanor needs your strength right now.
If you don’t have it, you cannot help her.”

“I could say the same of you, my lord.”

“Years of war one gets used to lack of
sleep.”

Martha nodded and left the room. Dominick
pulled a chair beside the bed. Eleanor was quiet. He touched her
head, but the fever still raged.

“Eleanor,” he found himself saying, “This
isn’t like the tree. I can’t pull you out. You’re going to have to
climb out on your own.” He leaned down closer to her. “Be strong,
my little dove and climb out of the dark hole you fell into.”

There was no response. She lay perfectly
still for several hours until the thrashing began again, and
Dominick administered the herb mixture. Within minutes, she was
back under control and sleeping soundly, but with little relief to
the fever.

Later that afternoon Martha returned with a
steamy cup of broth. “Has there been any change, my lord?”

“None that I can see. She stirs periodically,
but that is when her fever is highest and the delirium begins.”
Dominick could not keep the frustration from his voice.

Martha gently touched his arm. “I brought her
some broth. It will help her a bit.” The servant went to the
bedside and spooned the broth into Eleanor’s mouth, but it just ran
back out.

Dominick’s frustration grew. He paced the
floor, running his hands through his hair. The room was closing in
on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side.

Randolf came in later with Erik. “Has there
been any change?”

“No,” Dominick ground out through his
teeth.

“Dominick, come to the hall and eat
something,” Erik said.

“I can’t leave her.”

“This room is sweltering, it will drain on
your strength. Come and fortify yourself. You can’t help her should
you fall ill as well.”

Those were the very words he had used to get
Martha to leave that morning. He conceded to having his evening
meal in the hall but he returned as soon as he’d finished. He
didn’t drink any wine for fear it would make him sleepy. Staying
alert was important should Eleanor need him.

The rest of the night passed in much the same
way as the night before. Eleanor slipped in and out of delirium,
her fever only slightly falling. Servants vigilantly kept the fire
high. More tea and broth were forced down Eleanor’s throat.