For some reason that filled Francis with foreboding.
He had to do what he had come to do, and soon.
A BIG SURPRISE
Claudine opened her eyes. She was lying on her back on the familiar bed in the upstairs room she always used when she was at Evreux. Her head ached less, which was good. She tried to sit up.
“Bernadette?” she called.
When there was no answer, she screwed her eyes shut against the burning ache in her head and swiveled sideways, stumbled to her feet and headed out.
She leaned on the wall. Memories of the day before came back to her. She had been in her chambers, taking her medicine. Then she had stood and suddenly collapsed.
The physician came to see me and gave me more. It made me feel even worse.
She felt her heart thumping and rested a hand on her chest, leaning on the wall, the world swaying around her. Something was starting to form in her mind. Some thought that just eluded her. Something about the medicine...
“Niece!”
Claudine blinked into focus as her train of thought was shattered. She found herself face-to-face with her uncle. He had a drawn, weary expression and she had the feeling he had been awake all night.
“Uncle,” she said neutrally.
“You're walking! Oh, thank Heavens. I was so worried.”
Claudine smiled weakly. “Thank you, Uncle. I'm getting better, I think. At least, I do feel better now.”
Her uncle smiled. “Good. Good! I'm so glad to hear that, Claudine. The physician said you should stay abed , though. And don't forget to take your medicine. I understand he has increased the dose.”
Claudine raised a brow. “Oh?” “Why?”
Her uncle smiled as if she was being a little slow. “Because you've been so unwell, my dear,” he said. “In fact, you should be abed now. Let me help you back to your room. What is your companion thinking of, letting you out and about? And wandering off ahead!”
“I was just looking for Bernadette when I found you,” Claudine whispered.
“I'll call her. Which reminds me. That girl is a concern in herself...she doesn't know her place.” He sounded vexed.“Uncle, no,” she said. “It's not Bernadette's fault...” She felt her heart thumping hard in her chest and rested a hand on it, feeling the pain grip her in its fist. Please! Not Bernadette. She couldn't bear it if he sent her away! Did he want her to be all alone, without friends?
“Now don't distress yourself,” her uncle said softly. His voice seemed to come from miles away above her head. “It's all well. I'll fetch her.”
“Thank you,” Claudine whispered. She let him lead her to her rooms and lay down on the bed.
A few hours later she was woken by the sound of Bernadette mixing something in a glass.
“Your medicine, mistress.”
She passed the goblet to Claudine, who pulled a face.
“I...I can't drink it, Bernadette. I feel too ill.” Just the smell of the familiar blackcurrant juice with its noxious undertone made her feel sick right now. She took a sip and then put it aside, feeling her stomach roil with nausea as she swallowed hard.
Bernadette's voice seemed to come from a long way away. “Oh, milady. You should take it. But never you mind. Don't be distressed. We'll set it aside while you rest some more.”
“Don't want...rest. Want to walk. Go...outside,” Claudine whispered. Why was even speaking so hard for her? She felt so sick suddenly!
She heard Bernadette sit down at her bedside. Opening her eyes made her head hurt even worse. She kept them closed, not looking up at her friend.
“Oh, mistress,” she said softly. “I understand. Well, mayhap fresh air will ease you...I'll have Henri carry you downstairs.”
“Thank you,” Claudine whispered. That was a good idea. Oddly, fresh air helped.
Henri – her uncle's manservant – arrived. A vast, muscled man, he lifted Claudine easily and carried her down to the garden. Claudine was barely conscious as they went down into the wan afternoon sunlight.
Ever since they arrived, her malady seemed to worsen. She could not recall ever having such a bad attack of it. She could hardly sit up now.
“What's wrong with me?” Claudine asked faintly. “I don't understand.”
Bernadette sighed. “I don't know, milady. The physician said perhaps it is seasonal. The storms in summer...mayhap they worsen the condition.” Bernadette asked.“Mayhap,” she agreed tiredly. “I want to sit in the sun, Bernadette.”
“Very well, milady.”
Bernadette called Henri, who moved the chair into the afternoon warmth. Claudine lay back, letting the afternoon light seep into her bones. She was drifting in and out of wakefulness when she heard voices. Bernadette's voice reached her first.
“I know. However, I cannot. Not by all means. It's too dangerous.”
She sounded desperate.
Another voice replied. Claudine could barely discern it. She felt her heart thumping with alarm. What if Bernadette was betraying her somehow? She trusted her, but who was to say that her trust was not misplaced? She couldn't hear the other person and almost drifted off to sleep again, jerked back to wakefulness by Bernadette's harsh reply.
“Well, very well,” Bernadette was saying wretchedly. “But only once, mind. Aught else is too risky. You must know that.”
What is risky? Bernadette, what are you doing?
Claudine let her mind drift in the sweet memories of Francis and fell slowly back into sleep.
“My lady!” Bernadette was beside her again, shaking her gently awake. Claudine stirred and opened her eyes. Her friend was flushed and looked agitated.
“Mm? Yes, Bernadette?” she blinked hazily.
“You must come inside now. You will take too much sun. The physician is here to see you.”
“What?” Claudine felt her heart jolt in panic. “Not again. Bernadette, why? I'm quite fine. Just sleepy. So very sleepy...” she trailed off, yawning. She really was sleepy. The sunshine made it worse.
“I know, dear,” Bernadette said. Her voice was tense, thrumming through with some new urgency Claudine hadn't heard before. “I understand. But you must come.”
“No,” Claudine said crossly. For the first time in her life, she tried to fight as Henri bent to pick her up.
“My lady, please...” Bernadette soothed. She struggled but soon tired and Henri carried her upstairs to her chamber. He laid her on the bed. Claudine kept her eyes shut, but some of her defiance was building inside her.
“Bernadette, I hope you know that I don't approve of this,” she said softly. “If you treat me with such disregard for my person, I'll have you know I...” she stopped, hearing her own voice slur.
“I understand. But look! Here is the physician.”
“Don't want...” Claudine protested softly. Then she felt a hand over her arm.
“Claudine?”
The voice vibrated in her bones. She knew it as she knew the warm, insistent fingers on her wrist, the gentle hand that touched her neck.
“Francis?”
She shot upright, eyes opening. Her head ached swimmingly and she closed her eyes.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “I am Father Alexandre for now,” he explained, whispering. “Best if we both remember it. But yes, it's me. How are you, my dearest?”
Claudine felt her heart melt as he said those words. “Oh, Francis,” she whispered. “I am not too unwell. But you know that you should not be here.”
He laughed. “I know. But I am. In addition, I am so worried for you. My sweetling. How long have you been so ill?”
“Not...long,” she whispered. “Since yesterday.”
Francis was stroking her hair. She felt his hand slide into hers, squeezing her own. The warm vitality of him seemed to seep into her and she opened her eyes, looking into his soft green ones.
“Oh, my dear,” she whispered. “I am so glad to see you.”
He smiled. His smile was sweet and lopsided and he bent to kiss her ha
nd. “I am so pleased to see you too, my dearest.”
The touch of his lips on her knuckles was strange and exciting. The way he stroked her hair was at once gentling and roused those strange, sweet sensations to flow more.
His lips parted and they caressed hers, his body pressing against her, pushing her down on the bed. She sighed and felt his touch slowly exploring her. His hand strayed from her neck down to her waist and she gasped and tensed as his tongue probed her mouth and his fingers tightened on her waist, kneading the flesh. He went stiff too and withdrew his hand sharply.
“My lady! I beg you – please forgive me,” he said. His face was red, breath panting in his throat as if he had run far. Claudine shook her head.
“Nothing to forgive,” she whispered.
Her body felt strangely bereft without his touch, a feeling which surprised her. She would have expected that such an intimate touch would be repugnant to her, but it wasn't – it was wonderful. She could feel sweet warmth tingling inside her and she wanted more.
Francis chuckled. “I am sorry, my dear. I allowed my fancies to run away with me. I'm just so happy.”
His face lit up. He was sitting opposite her, on the carved wooden chair beside her bed where Bernadette sometimes sat to talk to her.
She chuckled ruefully. “I too,” she whispered. She reached out to take his hand and he drew in a breath as her cool fingers closed around his own. He looked down at her with so much tenderness that Claudine felt her heart melt. His hand closed over hers.
“Claudine,” he whispered. “I...we have to do something. There is aught...disturbing...about this malady of yours. I intend to get to the bottom of this. However, I feel as if you are in danger here. Is there anything I can do?”
Claudine felt her own eyes widen with surprise. In danger? What did he mean? Yet she felt it too.
“Francis, why? What do you think is happening?”
He bit his lip, face dark. “I don't know, my dear. But I think that something is. I will try and see you every day.”
Claudine felt her heart soar, and then suddenly went cold.
“No, Francis,” she whispered. “You cannot possibly do that. It's dangerous. If we were caught...you and I would be in disgrace. Cast out of society. We'd die on the street.”
Francis smiled wistfully. “I know. Yes, we would be outcast from society. We wouldn't die, though. I'd protect you.”“Thank you, my dear.” She squeezed his hand. All the same, she felt a twinge of apprehension.
He smiled. “I thank Bernadette for helping us. Without her, I'd never be allowed in. But as it is, Father Alexandre may be allowed to treat you. I know a little of herb-lore, thanks to the monks. I think I could almost maintain this disguise, even under scrutiny.”
Claudine giggled. Somehow, the idea of the well-built nobleman being her physician was deliciously piquant. However, dangerous, too. Her belly tingled with excitement.
“Francis,” she whispered. “I...”
“My lord!” Bernadette said suddenly. “I think...you'd best stand. Someone's coming.”
Francis shot upright with a speed that made Claudine wince. She saw him straighten the skirts of his robe – yes, Francis was wearing the robe of a Franciscan monk – and face the door. It opened to reveal the steward. She let out a ragged outbreath. Whew! She had thought it would be her uncle.
“Father Alexandre?” he asked.“What, my son?”
Claudine had to bite her cheeks to stop the grin spreading across her face. The idea of Francis as a monk was so funny that even, here, now, in this real danger she had to see the amusing side.
“I have had quarters prepared for you in the attic. If you will accompany me upstairs? They are humble but you'll find them most adequate. A light supper has been prepared downstairs.”
“I will partake of it after observing the prayer at Vespers.”
Claudine wanted to giggle again, hearing the words from Francis. He was playing the role of a monk to perfection. She looked past the door to the steward. He looked a little uncomfortable.
“Of course, Father.”
“Bless you, my son.”
Claudine looked up at him and his eye caught hers. He lowered his eyelids, and she could see his cheek jump as if he wanted to laugh and was suppressing the inclination. Her heart jumped with happiness.
When the steward had gone, they shared a grin.
“Francis! Oh, you...”
“I really am bad,” he began, interrupting her. “I'll probably burn for this. Probably I'd deserve to. But I have to see you.”
They looked at each other smilingly. He cleared his throat to start again. Their conversation was interrupted, at that juncture,by Bernadette. Her voice was tight. She sounded desperate.
“My lord, my lady...please!We need to be careful. Will you leave, now?”
Francis nodded. “Yes, Bernadette. And thank you.”
Claudine felt her heart fill with thankfulness to Bernadette, who was turning to Francis with a brisk response on her dark-pink lips.
“Not at all. If you can manage not to get us all thrown into the street, I'd be grateful,” Bernadette said with some asperity. Francis nodded.
“I'll do my best, Miss.”
“Good. Now go. And both of you. Remember. This is Father Alexandre. The new physician.”
“Yes,” Claudine nodded.
“You might do well to pretend to dislike him,” Bernadette added. “If you seem to enthusiastic, perhaps your uncle will investigate him more closely. We don't want that.”
“Yes, Bernadette,” her eyes went to Francis, who smiled.
“And I?” he asked Bernadette.
“It's best if you keep your hood on, your eyes downcast and don't talk much,” Bernadette said briskly. “I don't know how easy it would be for him to recognize you. Now go. Please, my lord? Someone is coming.”
Francis nodded. “Bless you,” he said to Bernadette. “Most sincerely I mean it.”
“My lady, I don't like this,” she said when he'd left. “I mean...I am so glad to see you looking well. However, I have this feeling inside me that this will end badly. He shouldn't risk this.”
Claudine bit her lip. “I know, Bernadette. But yet, I am so happy.” She squeezed her friend's hand impulsively. “Thank you so, so much.”
Bernadette smiled at her fondly. “I know, my dear,” she said. “I am happy too. And somehow we will make sure all ends well.”
Claudine nodded, closing her eyes. “I pray so,” she said sincerely.
Bernadette's smile was as bright as the flames in the fireplace. “I am so happy to hear it, my lady. Truly I am.”
They chatted a while. They discussed simple everyday matters – the way Lady Mirella was curling her hair, the new fashion of sleeves, and the progress of the altar tapestry. When Bernadette had gone, Claudine closed her eyes, a big smile moving her lips. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Francis was here in the manor. He was here where she could see him every day.
She found herself recalling each sensation of the touch of his hand, the way his mouth caressed hers, the sweet feeling of his grip on her waist. I wonder if I will ever be well enough to...do those things?
She knew what she was thinking of – the little bit she understood of what it meant to lie with a man. It was something she had never imagined would be accessible to her. Now she hoped it would be. She sat up, feeling revived. She giggled. Is Francis so much better medicine for me than the daily draft?
It seemed so. If he stayed, she might get well after all. At least, he made her happy enough to wish herself well, which was a very good start indeed, or so it seemed to be so.
THREAT AND HAPPINESS
The morning sunshine washed through the window onto Francis' eyelids. Memory of where he was rushed back to him. He was upstairs in the attic at Evreux.
With that recollection, he abruptly remembered the rest of the situation. Claudine was here. He was, to all intents and purpose, her physician, and a monk. He should
maintain that disguise.
“Right. I'll head to the kitchen and then to her chambers.”
After breakfast, Francis climbed the stairs in the elaborate, though small, manor and headed to her bedchamber. There, he knocked at the door. Bernadette answered.
“Father Alexandre!” she said. Her eyes widened and then her worried frown descended. “Come in. The...patient...is awake and ready to see you.”
Francis felt his belly clench with sweet excitement. He walked in briskly, a big smile on his face. He found Claudine sitting at her dressing table, a long white dress on, her hair curled.
“My lady,” he said, bowing. “If I may say so, you look remarkably well this morning.”
She smiled, a faint flush coloring her cheek. “Thank you, my lord. Uh, Father. I feel much better.”
He grinned. “I'm pleased to hear it,” he turned to Bernadette and whispered quietly to her. “Is it safe?”
Bernadette nodded. “His lordship is out. You can speak freely. I'll keep watch at the window. He might not be gone long.”
“Thank you.”
Francis lowered himself to sitting in the chair by the bed. He reached out to take Claudine's hand. She gripped his fingers tightly.
“Francis,” she said. Her face was warm with happiness. “I'm so pleased to see you. I trust you slept well?”
He smiled. “I did. And really, you do look well today.”
She colored. “I feel better. Thank you.”
Francis bent and raised her hand to his mouth, kissing the cool, fragrant knuckles. Her hand, and her whole person, smelled of rosemary and sweetness. His body tensed with longing for her.
“Claudine,” he whispered. “I...would you run away with me?”
Claudine's sweet pink mouth fell open, surprised. “Francis! I...no.”
Francis blinked. “No?” the answer surprised him. He felt quite hurt, if he was honest. Of all the things he'd expected, outright denial was not one of them. “Why?”
She closed her eyes. She looked pained. “Francis, please. We must be sensible. You know I'm ill. I must ask if you've thought about this even for just a moment or two?”
Adventures of a Highlander Page 54
