First Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 3) (21 page)

“Edward. How did you get out of bed? You’re too weak.” His woman leapt from the bed, clad only in her chemise, and kissed his face, his cheeks, his hands.

“If it was not for you, I would be dead.” He sighed, remembering. “So many dreams, but through them all I saw your face, heard your voice calling me back to the light.”

The woman he loved enough to defy death wept. “I love you, Jennifer Wilson.”
 

Her eyes leaked, the tears dripping onto his chin. “Oh Edward, I love you too. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“As you wish.” He pulled her to him, wincing from the pain. “I fear I’m weak as a newborn babe.”

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

He didn’t know how to repay her. In the mist, when his enemies came for him, ’twas her voice he heard, guiding him home. The few steps to the bed seemed interminable. Edward wanted to complain, but did not have the breath to utter a word.

She helped him into bed, tucking the covers around him as if he were a wee lad. “I should be in the lists. The men will have gone to fat.”

“Whatever you say. I will send for bread and ale.”

“Nay. Bring me a proper meal.”

His woman put her hands on her hips. He recognized the look, not only on her face, but on the faces of his brothers’ wives. She was getting ready to, as the future girls said, let him have it.

“You will eat a small bit of bread. You haven’t had anything else in days, and if I feed you a full meal now you’ll throw it up. And I am not cleaning up after you.”

He settled back against the pillows, enjoying her fussing over him.

“As you say.”

She left the chamber, bellowing at his men. He heard a disturbance in the corridor. Brom strode across the chamber.

“I cannot believe you’re alive. You must be too stubborn for death to take.”

“Has she gone?”
 

Brom nodded.

“Tell me. What of Armstrong?”

“I fear he is planning another attack.”

“Then I must get out of bed. Prepare to fight.”
 

His captain, the man who feared no woman, looked to the door.
 

“Nay. Your lady will put me to the sword herself. You are still too weak.” He backed away out of Edward’s reach. “I know. You are the most feared warrior in the realm, but Edward…” Brom’s voice broke. “I saw death waiting beside you. Only your lady kept him from taking you.”

“Then leave me like an old woman to sleep. But I want to be kept apprised of the situation.”

“I will return after you sup.”

When Jennifer returned, he accepted the meager bit of food without grumbling.
 

Mayhap he grumbled a bit.

“You will stay in bed?”

“As you command me, lady.”

She sniffed at her person. “I stink. Do you mind if I have a bath?”

The thought of her bathing in his chamber sent a bolt of pleasure through him. If he had his way, they would bathe together.
 

“Go. Take your bath.”

Jennifer clapped her hands and summoned the bath. She did not smell. To him she smelled of the sun, the flowers, and the trees. But he knew women were particular, and he wanted her to be happy. After she bathed, he would ask her to be his wife. She was destined to stay with him. And he thought perchance she was no longer afraid of marriage, for she had not bolted when he told her he loved her.
 

When the servants put up the screen to shield the bathing tub, his face fell. He had been hoping to catch a glimpse of her as she climbed into the bath, but he supposed there would be time enough for him to look upon her form when they were wed.

He heard her softly humming to herself. Then a splash and she was silent. “Jennifer?”

No answer. Had she fallen and banged her head? Was she drowning? Edward found the strength to push himself out of bed. He landed on the floor with a thud.

“Bloody hell.”

He only tilted a bit as he stumbled across the floor. When he reached for the screen, he stumbled, knocked it aside, and fell again.

“Edward.”

She was wrapped in linen, her skin wet and smelling of roses. “What are you doing? Why on earth are you out of bed?”

“I thought you had drowned.”

She turned a fetching shade of pink all over. “I saw a mouse. I’m afraid of mice.”

Then she realized something was wrong, and looked down, tugging the cloth over her breasts.

“You shouldn’t be looking at me.” She wrapped the cloth more tightly around her. But it only went to mid-thigh, and he had a long look at her shapely legs and arms. She was beautifully formed. He wanted to trail kisses from her toes to her head.

“Damn it, Edward. You’re bleeding all over the floor.”

He scoffed. "’Tis nothing.”

“Let me help you to bed.” He let her pull him across the chamber. By the time they reached the bed, he was panting as if he’d been fighting for days.

She caught him staring at her again. “Turn your head so I can dress.”

Grudgingly, he did as she asked. The rustle of fabric made his mouth go dry. When she touched his cheek, he opened his eyes to see her dressed, her eyes bright.

She brushed her lips over his. He wanted to curse. His body wanted to claim her, though he had not the strength.

He saw her lips twitch. “Don’t speak.”

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything.”

He scowled at her. “If you fed me a proper meal, I would not be as weak as a babe and could properly ravish you.”

Jennifer arched a brow. “Is the ravishing before or after you’ve spent the day in the lists?”

“Vexing woman.”

She simply smiled at him as his heart filled with joy.

A week of listening to Edward grumble and fuss had made Jennifer cranky. He was a terrible patient. Then again, she had been bossy and irritable when she had food poisoning, and he hadn’t complained.

Things had quieted down, and she’d finally begun to relax and believe Gilbert Armstrong had given up. At least for now. There was a knock at the door, and she got up to answer. In the corridor, the guard was nowhere to be found. She shrugged. He was most likely in the garderobe. Sitting on the stone was the pitcher of wine and two goblets she’d asked for.
 

“Jennifer?”

She brought the wine in, shutting the door behind her. “Wine?”

Edward rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t shaved in days and looked like a sexy pirate, making her insides clench.
 

Another knock sounded. “Stay here.” She rose to answer it. Alistair was out of breath and sweating.

“What’s wrong?”

“One of the kitchen lads saw Maude.”

“Send the men to search the passageways again,” Edward yelled from the bed.

The guard grinned at her. “He is well?”

“He—” The sound of the metal goblet hitting the floor followed by a thud sent fear coursing through her veins. Alistair pushed past her and cried out, “My lady.”

Edward was curled up in a fetal position, groaning. “Eels in my belly.”

She reached for the goblet and Alistair knocked her hand away. “Let me.” He picked up the goblet and sniffed. “Poison. I fear ’tis the same that was used on you when you…arrived.”

It was too much. She’d gotten him back only to lose him again. The floor rose up to meet her face.

Jennifer woke to find herself in bed next to Edward. He grunted and rolled over. She must have fainted. There was a bucket by the bed, and a stack of cloth and basin of water as well. The healer had been here. The scent of her herbs lingered in the air. Jennifer picked up a cup and sniffed. Opium. Edward would be out cold for a while, then. Sliding out of bed, her feet hit the floor. She waited a moment, then opened the door, expecting to see one of the guards. The corridor was empty.

After she’d used the garderobe, she’d go find out what was happening and see if they’d found Maude yet.

Jennifer came out of the tiny room off Edward’s chamber to find her way blocked by the very girl everyone was looking for.

“You. You poisoned Edward.”

“Aye. You too, witch. When ye first came to Somerforth, I thought you were a faerie, but you’re nobody.”

The girl’s face contorted, and she came at Jennifer with a knife in her hand. As they struggled, Jennifer tried to remember everything Edward and his men had taught her. She yanked hard on the girl’s hair, pleased to hear her yelp in pain. Jennifer landed another blow, this one to the side of the girl’s face. She jumped back, screaming in Gaelic. Then, realizing Jennifer wasn’t reacting, she switched to English.

“Hamish told me how Lord Somerforth eats the children of Scots. You do too.”

The girl was unhinged. Jennifer didn’t mean to laugh, but it came out anyway. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Wise up. Hamish is using you.”

The girl shook her head, a wild look in her eyes. “He loves me. When your man falls, he will marry me.”

Maude lunged at her, and they went down, rolling across the floor, struggling for the knife. What happened next seemed to blur into one awful moment. Somehow, Jennifer got hold of the girl’s wrist and twisted, pushing with all her might until the knife went in at the hollow of Maude’s throat. Unprepared for the amount of blood, Jennifer scrabbled back until she felt the wall.

Eyes open and unseeing, the girl lay there. It was sheer dumb luck Jennifer had killed her. The shaking started in her fingers, traveled up her arms, and ended in her chest. She had killed a living, breathing person.

“I’ve never killed anyone before.” Her teeth chattered and she was cold all over. Edward had found her on the floor and gathered her in his arms. No matter what he did, she couldn’t get warm. Somehow he’d heard her cry out and woken from his opium-induced slumber to come to her.

He held her arms, forcing her to look at him. “You are a brave warrior. You did what needs be done. I would be proud to fight alongside you, my lady.”

“How do you live with it? The knowledge you have taken another’s life?”

He didn’t make light of her question. Instead she watched his face turn grim as he thought. It seemed a long time passed before he answered.

“When you take life during battle, ’tis different than taking life out of anger.” He had climbed into bed and pulled her onto his lap, stroking her hair. She relaxed, slowly letting the sensations wash over her.

“Killing because you are protecting those you are responsible for, the ones you love, your home, or your lands, is the warrior’s responsibility. Those deaths are forgiven by the church. Maude would have killed us both if you did not kill her.” He kissed her neck, and she smelled mint on his breath. They both chewed the leaves after meals if they hadn’t brushed their teeth. Gently, he pressed his lips to her cheeks, her eyes, and across her mouth. Light kisses, meant to soothe and heal.

“The taking of life is why women are not made for battle. To bring forth life is sacred. Thus the taking of life is more difficult for a woman because of this sacred duty they carry. ’Tis a great gift to bring life into the world.”

Edward kissed each of her fingers. “I know in your time you said women fight for their country. So much change, but the ability women have to create life is why death affects you more strongly.”