Knight's Caress (15 page)

When the strain became too great for Mabel, Madga led the woman back to her pallet in the weaving room. Edytha stayed behind for a little while longer and intently watched while Amberlie tended to Tedric. “You helped me too,” the girl said, with just the hint of a smile on her lips, before she practically ran from the room to join her mother.

Amberlie realized Edytha must be remembering how she’d helped fend off Baudelaire, the knight who had tried to attack her. She wondered just how much Edytha discerned of events, everyday activities. It was becoming clear to Amberlie that Lady Mabel sheltered the girl, perhaps too much.

King William appeared at the chamber door, alone, shortly after sunset. He entered the room and stood by the bottom of the bed, contemplating the restless and fevered Tedric after inquiring about his health. “For a Saxon, he is brave,
cherie.
I believe we both owe him our lives.”

Guy and Julianne didn’t appear, but Amberlie knew that Guy prowled the hallway, for she’d seen him and his disapproving scowls a number of times when she’d opened the door to Magda, who brought pitchers of fresh water.

Toward midnight a knock sounded on the door, and Amberlie wearily answered it to discover a pale-faced Glenna. “May I see him, my lady?” she asked on the verge of tears, and her gaze flew past Amberlie to Tedric’s prone figure on the bed.

Amberlie longed to refuse Glenna’s request for she didn’t like the woman. However, Tedric loved Glenna and the woman was his betrothed. Reluctantly, Amberlie waved her inside.

Glenna’s hands reached out to stroke Tedric’s face. The tears started to flow and slid down her cheeks. “His skin is so hot to the touch. I fear he might die.”

“He won’t die. I won’t let him,” Amberlie said forcefully, suddenly deciding that she would somehow pull him through this crisis and definitely not liking the way Glenna possessively touched her charge.

Jealously congealed upon Glenna’s face. “Oh, my lady, I doubt you shall have anything to do with his recovery. Tedric is strong of body and heart. He’d not expire in a Norman woman’s bed!”

Amberlie held the door open to Glenna. “You’d best leave now. I’m certain Lady Julianne must have need of you.”

“I should be the one tending to Tedric, not you!” Glenna objected. She stole one last look at Tedric before leaving.

Fatigued and worried, Amberlie sat beside the bed and peered at the man, who shivered in his delirium like the leaves on a tree during a violent windstorm. Glenna was right, Amberlie decided. Tedric’s betrothed should be the one who cared for him, who performed the intimate services of nurse. Why had the king insisted she be the one to look after the man? Yes, he’d saved her life, and she realized she was indebted to him, but there were others who were more qualified to nurse an extremely ill man back to health.        

The room grew stuffy but she hesitated to throw open the windows when Tedric shivered from chills, his teeth chattering uncontrollably though he burned with a high fever. The fire in the hearth made the room hot and uncomfortable. Pulling off her bliaut to cool herself, Amberlie wore only her shift as she sat upon the wolf pelt to place a wet cloth upon Tedric’s forehead. Tiredness seeped into her bones, and she closed her eyes. Without warning, she found her wrist locked in Tedric’s surprisingly strong clasp. She opened her eyes to find herself staring into his brightly fevered blue eyes. “Warm me,’’ he begged, “please, in the name of God.”

Three heavy pelts covered him already, and there were no more in the keep that weren’t being put to use on what was an especially chilly night. She didn’t know how to answer him for the man’s entire body shook with cold, and she wasn’t certain he even knew who she was. “Mayhaps I can find one more pelt for you.” She started to move away, but Tedric wouldn’t let her go.

“Nay, nay,” he mumbled. “Please—please.” And then in an instinct of self-preservation, Tedric pulled her toward him until she lay atop him. Amberlie squirmed to free herself, but Tedric didn’t heed her pleas to release her. In fact, he didn’t seem to hear her. At first, she was shocked by his brazenness, until she understood that he was delirious and reaching out for some physical comfort and contact.

The man had saved her life. She owed him something, she knew that, yet she hadn’t forgotten he had slain Henri. But the king had commissioned her to care for Tedric, and one didn’t disobey a royal command. Yet Tedric held her atop him, pinned to his shivering body, and she couldn’t move. She doubted this was what the king had had in mind. Perhaps if she lay quietly, Tedric would free her.

The day’s ordeal had taken a toll upon her, and she felt unbearably tired, now that she was in a reclining position. Her lids grew heavy, and she found herself dozing, only to be wakened by Tedric’s shivers. What harm could be done by crawling beneath the pelts and offering bodily warmth to a dangerously ill man? she asked herself when sleep became too hard to resist. No one would enter the room without her permission, and the hour was late. No one would see her burrowed beneath the pelts with Tedric. Not only would she be getting much-needed sleep but she would also be helping Tedric.

Easing her body out of Tedric’s embrace, Amberlie crawled beneath the pelts, careful of Tedric’s wound. In his delirium, he moved and ensnared her in his arms so she was forced to wrap one of her arms around his chest, almost as if she belonged in that intimate position. Amberlie knew she should be embarrassed, but she was too tired to care. And anyway, no one would ever see them. She’d take just a short nap, she told herself.

With a wild wind whipping through the turrets and Tedric’s uneven breathing in her ear, Amberlie fell into a deep sleep.

Julianne’s shrill scream woke Amberlie, shortly after dawn. Amberlie reacted to the sound as if twenty hungry dogs were upon her, ready to devour her with bared fangs, by instinctively bounding from the bed to stare in sleepy-eyed befuddlement at the horrified face of her mother- in-law and the calmer face of the king.

“Le bon Dieu!
What have you done, what have you done?” Julianne cried, and positioned both of her hands over her heart, almost as if she were suffering some sort of an attack. “My son must be turning over in his grave at this repulsive sight. You’ve dishonored my son! For this, I shall never forgive you. Never!” Her face became an effigy of hatred as she stomped from the room, without first asking leave of the king.

Amberlie, still in the grasp of sleep, was more than puzzled, wondering what had precipitated such a violent response. Only when King William cast a disparaging glance toward the bed did Amberlie suddenly remember that she hadn’t slept alone last night.

“Oh, no!” she muttered, and placed a trembling hand over her mouth to see the brawny man who lay in her bed. During the night, the covers had slipped from Tedric’s body and now rested heedlessly below his waist. His muscular upper torso was bare, the morning sunshine highlighting the slave collar around his neck. Thick light-colored hair covered his chest and formed a V below his waist before disappearing beneath the pelts. Despite the unseemly situation, Amberlie couldn’t help thinking that he seemed very much at home, as did she, standing with bare feet in only her shift before the king of England. Nervously, she pushed back the tousled, dark curls from her face and wondered what King William must think of her.

She swallowed deeply, her hands shaking. “Sire, please, I can explain. This is not what it seems. You know this man has been very ill.”

“Oui,
but he doesn’t look so sick to me now,
cherie
.
”
William moved past Amberlie and placed his hand upon Tedric’s forehead. “His fever, it has broken.”

“It has!” Amberlie exclaimed in disbelief after feeling Tedric’s cheeks. Sometime during the night Tedric had passed the crisis, and now felt cool to the touch. His breathing too was regular, and his coloring no longer deathly pale. Glancing up at the king, she smiled in relief, but was immediately chastised by the quelling look he gave her. Turning up the covers over Tedric, she then slipped into her green velvet dressing robe and waited in the center of the room.

“Lady Julianne is very upset,” he reminded her.

“I know, but I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Bien,
I am sure you are innocent of any—indelicacy—where this man is concerned. But Julianne has spoken to me already about your kidnapping. Her fears are great that something happened between you and this Saxon, that your value as a bride has diminished. And now, to be found in bed with him —well,
cherie,
you can see the problem here. I might not be able to find you a suitable husband—at least, not one whom you would prefer.”

Amberlie’s fingers clutched at the top of her robe. Slivers of fear curled inside of her stomach like tiny worms. Her worst nightmare was about to come true, she knew it. The king was going to force her to wed anyone who would have her. “If that is the case,” she said through stiff, pale lips, “then I shall remain unmarried.”

William sadly shook his head. “No,
cherie,
you will marry again. I’ve already been approached by someone for your hand.”

This was worse than she’d first feared. Only one man had asked for her, and she already knew who that was. “I would rather enter a nunnery than wed Henri’s step-uncle.” Taking a huge gulp of air, she approached the king with hesitant steps and lifted her hands imploringly. “Sire, I beg of you as a good and gracious sovereign, as the childhood friend of my father, please reconsider. I could never care for Guy as a husband, I could never respect him enough to give him due as my lord. I don’t expect to find love in another marriage, but yes, I should like to love again. Yet, if there will be no true affection, then I should want to be a good wife and proud of my husband. Guy de Bayonne repulses me.”

“But you need a strong man to care for you. Your father would have wished for a man who can protect you—and Guy de Bayonne can offer you protection here at Woodrose.”

Tears swam in her eyes to even be considered as a bride for Guy. “I beg of you, sire, on my dear Henri’s grave, I beg of you not to give me as bride to Guy de Bayonne. Shall I get on my knees, shall I crawl to you?”

William pulled her up by the arms just as she began to do that very thing. “Let me think on this some more,
cherie.
I would not have you beg to me. Out of respect for your father I would not wish to see you unhappy.”

“Merci,
sire. You are a great king.” Amberlie clutched at William’s hands and humbly kissed each one.

“And you are a blatant flatterer, still using your little girl tricks on me. Now see to your charge,” he ordered with a gentle smile before kissing her cheek and then departing the room, softly closing the door behind him.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring at the wooden panels on the door in a trance, worrying and wondering what her future held. Had William truly understood how much she dreaded a marriage to Guy? And if he did understand, would he insist she marry him anyway? Never had she known of any Norman woman who’d married for love. Though her own parents had loved one another very deeply, their marriage had been arranged, as had her own to Henri. Just once, she’d like someone to listen to her and respect her opinion—especially when it involved turning over her person to a man whom she detested, making her wed such a man.

A moan from the bed interrupted her reverie. Tedric stirred and turned his face toward her upon waking. He watched her from shining blue eyes. “Water—please, my lady—water,” he whispered hoarsely. After pouring a cup of water, Amberlie went to the bed and held it to Tedric’s lips while he drank greedily. Her hand brushed against his mouth when she took the cup away.

“Your fever has broken,” she told him, disturbed by the warmth that flowed through her at touching him. An absurd reaction, she decided, since she’d slept quietly with her arm around him during the night. After such an intimacy, being near Tedric and touching him shouldn’t bother her at all. But it did, and the difference was that now he was wide awake and lucid. She even found she couldn’t look at him now without blushing to recall how she’d fallen blissfully asleep in his arms. Thank God that the man had no memory of the past night. Leaving his side, she sat on the window seat at the opposite end of the room. “I think you’ll be well. Gundred’s potion is most effective.”

He watched her, his expression serious. “Are you well, my lady?”

“Certainly.”

“You weren’t hurt when I pushed you to the ground, I mean.”

“Nay, I’m fine. You saved my life. I am forever grateful to you.”

“Then why do you sit so far away? I promise that I shall not touch you again.”

“What do you mean—again?” A slow flush rose from her toes to her hairline for she knew exactly what he meant when he smiled lecherously at her, a unique accomplishment for a man who had been deathly ill only hours earlier.

“I held you in my arms while you slept. Your presence was most comforting to me, your body most warm while I sweated out the fever.”

Amberlie rose to her feet, unaware of how becoming she appeared to Tedric with her hair a mass of curls about her face and shoulders. “I know not what you mean,” she lied, unable to admit she’d been so weak with fatigue, and some emotion which she wouldn’t dare name, that she’d crawled beneath the pelts with him like a whore. No matter that Julianne and the king might spread the truth throughout the whole castle, throughout the kingdom, she couldn’t admit anything of a personal nature to this man. “You are wrong, and must have been delirious, for I know not what you mean.”

“Once again, my lady, you avoid the issue, but I am too tired to argue. I should like to rest some more.”

“Then by all means do. I’ll send for Magda to tend to you.”

Tedric lifted an eyebrow. “So you shall not care for me any longer?”

“You’ve passed the crisis now, but I shall see you’re well taken care of—and moved out of my chambers as soon as you’re stronger. This arrangement is—unseemly.”

“Ah, my lady, if I must gain strength and lose your sweet presence, then I trust I shall remain as weak as a baby sparrow.”

Amberlie glanced out the window, not wanting him to see the way her face flamed with his words. What was there about this man that could always reduce her to one immense blush?

~
~
~

For the next three days, Amberlie tended to Tedric herself. She was the one who changed the linens on his wound and who fed him with her own hand until he was strong enough to take the spoon himself. However, Magda stayed in the room at night while Amberlie slept in Julianne’s room to appease Julianne’s strict sensibilities. Still, Julianne regarded her with hate-filled eyes. On the fourth day after the attack, William visited Tedric and seated himself in a nearby chair. He ominously fingered the ruby-hilted dagger at his side and ordered Amberlie out of the room.

“I trust I make no mistake by visiting without guards,” William began in all seriousness. “‘Twould be a pity to run you through after Lady Amberlie has nursed you back to health.”

Tedric shifted his position in the bed, wincing slightly at the stiff pain in his side but facing the king with a gaze that was strong and earnest. “I have no thoughts of harming you, sire, for I must think of my family.”

“Ah,
oui,
they are very important to you, this mother and sister—and betrothed. The woman who tends to Lady Julianne, she is the one you plan to marry?”

“Her name is Glenna.”

William nodded.
“Trés jolie,
quite lovely.” William was strangely silent for some moments, and Tedric doubted that the man had come to see him about Glenna. Suddenly a tiny smile crossed the king’s face. “You don’t trust me, do you? Be honest, for I appreciate honesty, though it does have its sting.”

“I admit I don’t know what your business is with me, unless it is to order my death.”

“Ah, you’re a suspicious man, but I’d be less than easy too, if I were you. I assume you know who is responsible for your wound, because I doubt you were the target, or Lady Amberlie,
n’est-ce pas?”

“I know nothing, sire.”

William wagged a finger in Tedric’s face as if he were a naughty youngster. “You’re lying, but I’m not here to pull the truth out of you—at least not about who tried to murder me. I’m here to offer you a proposition, Tedric, one which only a fool or a madman would refuse, and I think you are neither.” Relinquishing his hold on the dagger, William leaned back in his chair, apparently content with the knowledge that he now had engaged Tedric’s curiosity and not his contempt. “Your cause will eventually fail,” the king began. “Except for Saxon resistance in the north, all of England has fallen to me. I told you that I didn’t believe you were a fool, and I don’t. Only a fool would continue to wage a losing battle, and Tedric, you’ve lost already, and I think you realize this. So” —and here William stretched out his legs, as if he prepared himself for a lengthy visit—”we have a great deal to discuss. I assume that I have your permission to stay.”

Tedric hated the man, but something about the king’s confident demeanor struck his curiosity. Whatever William was planning might have grave repercussions for him and his family, and since he was in no position to do anything other than listen, Tedric gave the king his full attention. “Please continue, sire.”

The king’s voice dropped in volume, so Tedric strained to hear him. “Guy de Bayonne believes himself to be master of Woodrose, but I admit that, though Guy is a brave knight, he is less than an able administrator. He has yet to gain the good will of your people while you, Tedric, possess it already. I’ve seen the way the Saxons cluster outside in the bailey for word of your health these last few days. I saw how overcome they were in the great hall on the morning when you were brought before me in chains. Even my own knights’ hearts were touched by your concern for your mother and sister.” William’s gaze traveled across Tedric’s person. “You’re a natural leader, a man to be reckoned with, and I don’t say this lightly for I know about your battles to win back the keep. And I believe that if your mind was at rest about the keep, your energies could be put to better use in defending England for me.”