by Regan Walker
“Not until I check your leg to see how badly you are hurt.”
“Nay. It is not decent,” Noelle said, shaking her head.
“I do not care. I am going to see how bad the wound is for myself,” he said and knelt down. “I will decide whether it can wait until we reach Cranborne Castle.”
She didn’t budge. “Do you always have to have your own way?”
“Always,” he said, and not waiting for her to do so, he lifted the hem of her cotehardie all the way to her bloodstained thigh. “It’s still bleeding.”
“It is nothing,” she insisted.
Nicholas frowned as he got to his feet, went over to his horse, removed his knife, and cut a strip of silk off his horse’s trappings to use as a bandage. “This will do for now,” he murmured.
When he returned, Noelle had dropped her skirt again, and he wondered how she expected him to tend her wound. She was stubborn, he’d give her that much. “If you will kindly lift your cotehardie, then I can bandage your leg to stop the bleeding,” Nicholas said as he knelt in front of her.
“I still do not like this. It is most improper,” Noelle protested, blushing but happy that Nicholas couldn’t see it in the gathering darkness.
“Bleeding to death is not proper, either,” Nicholas said.
Noelle frowned but complied with his instructions and pulled up her skirt to expose her thigh.
“You will have to spread your legs so I can bandage your wound.” God’s tooth! Was he mad? All his thoughts were now focused on her milky, soft skin and not just the wound. Her skin felt like silk, so smooth, so inviting. . . .
Get your mind on the wound! he warned himself as he took a deep breath, cursing his traitorous body. He wrapped her leg as quickly as possible, putting pressure on the small wound.
When Nicholas’s hand brushed her leg, Noelle felt heat surge through her as a shiver rippled over her skin. His nearness was overwhelming, and she thought nothing of the pain from her wound. Nay, she was thinking about his warm flesh touching hers. She wanted so much to reach down and bury her fingers in his dark hair. Worse, she was thinking about kissing him. She couldn’t help noticing the tingle of excitement she felt every time his hand passed between her thighs.
“There,” Nicholas said, instantly shattering her musings as he returned to his feet. “That should stop the bleeding until we get back to Cranborne.”
Noelle nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, breathless from the excitement of having him so close. If she received this kind of treatment, she would take an arrow any day. She smiled at that ridiculous thought. This man did strange things to her.
Nicholas mounted first; then he reached down, grasped her arm, and lifted her effortlessly up to the seat in front of him.
“Where is your destrier?” Noelle asked.
“I’m not sure. I took the first mount I came upon when I heard Meleagant had taken you.”
Noelle adjusted her skirt as she settled herself. “I left Thor tied to a tree. I hope no harm has come to him.”
“I’m sure my men have found him and put him in the stables. Of course, if you had stayed where I instructed you, we would not be having this conversation.”
“If I had stayed where you told me, you would now have an arrow in your back,” she countered. “And I might still have been taken by Meleagant and had no one to come after me.”
“So you acted on your own behalf. Just in case you needed to be rescued.”
“Something like that.”
Nicholas couldn’t help but smile as he cradled the lovely young woman in his arms. She knew nothing of her place. She was determined to have the last word. Truth be told he liked that feistiness in her.
Noelle’s head rested just below his chin, so she couldn’t see his smile, and that pleased him. It wouldn’t do to have her know how much she affected him. He could smell the roses that now reminded him of her, and the scent nearly drove him wild.
“Have you gone to sleep, Nicholas?” Noelle prodded. “Or do you not want to admit that I saved you?”
“Your point has been made, but I had rather take the injury than have you hurt.”
Noelle sighed and in a soft, hesitant voice said, “Well, I had rather have you safe.”
Something unfamiliar and sweet ran though Nicholas, and he tightened his arm around Noelle’s midriff. He was pleased by her words, for she had sought to protect him, yet his masculine pride had been wounded all the same. “Ah, Noelle, what am I to do with you?”
Anything you want, Noelle thought, but thankfully she kept her longing to herself as she rested her head on his chest. As long as Nicholas remained stubbornly silent about his feelings for her, she would not speak of love to him. Noelle continued her silence for the rest of the long journey, made more arduous by her injury. Her mind was spinning with confusion when she finally sagged against Nicholas’s strong, broad chest.
It had been a long day, and she was very tired. Now that all the excitement was over, whatever measure of strength she’d had was long gone. Perhaps that was the reason for her confused thinking.
She was just tired.
But she was also very contented at the moment. Noelle rested her head against Nicholas’s chest and drifted to sleep.
When they reached Cranborne, it was the middle of the night and all was quiet. Nicholas drew the borrowed horse to a halt. He hailed the castle and waited for the large portcullis to be raised. The chains rattled and woke Noelle as the gate rose slowly up, and he and his pleasant burden were admitted into the bailey.
As they rode through the dark bailey, Noelle noticed that the bodies of the dead and wounded had been taken away. All the small buildings within the castle grounds were nothing but charred rabble, and the smell of smoke lingered in the air like death as the pall of smoke hovered over the ruins. It was so late, no one was about except a guard here and there.
Nicholas rode straight to the stable where Phillip, the stableman, came out to meet them.
“You are up late,” Noelle said.
“Aye. So much has happened this day, I had a hard time sleeping. It is good to have you back home. I feared you’d been lost to us when I heard that Meleagant had taken you,” Phillip said as he grasped the horse’s bridle. “My lord,” Phillip said with a nod to Nicholas. Then he turned his attention back to Noelle. “We knew not whether you were dead or alive when Thor came wandering into the stable. He went over to his favorite stall and stood there until I let him in.”
“I’m so glad you have Thor safe, and I thank you for taking such good care of him, as always. I was most worried,” Noelle said. “How are you and the others faring now that Meleagant’s men have been driven away?”
“Shaken, milady. I made it though the skirmish, but we lost Nigel, Frank, and several others,” Phillip said, and then bowed his head. “I am sorry about Sir John.”
“I want to have a word with my brother. Where is he?” Noelle asked.
Something akin to shock registered in Phillip’s eyes as he looked to Nicholas. Did they know something that she didn’t? She remembered that Meleagant had said something about John earlier, but she couldn’t recall his exact words. She frowned at her confusion.
What had happened in her absence? A chill shuddered through her as she turned and looked at Nicholas.
“Sir John was killed by Meleagant,” Nicholas finally said. “I am sorry.”
Noelle gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. John was dead? True, she had been angry enough to kill him, but she’d never dreamed that he’d really been killed. Overwhelmed she swayed and Nicholas caught her up against him.
“I think it’s far past time for you to retire, milady,” Nicholas said. “You have had a most difficult day.”
“Will milady be all right?” Phillip asked. His concern shone deep in his eyes.
“Aye. Your lady has had a long day, and the events have overwhelmed her,” Nicholas said. “She will be much better in the morn.”
When they entered t
he Great Hall, the guard who happened to be one of Nicholas’s men, opened the door and Nicholas stepped inside, still carrying Noelle.
“Where is your chamber?” Nicholas asked as he strode across the rushes to the stairs.
“Up the steps on the right,” she pointed.
Nicholas climbed the stairs with very little effort. When he reached Noelle’s chamber, he kicked open the door and headed straight for the bed. He laid her down carefully so as not to hurt her further. As he straightened he said, “I am truly sorry about your brother.”
“Thank you,” Noelle replied. She propped a couple of pillows behind her back and head and watched Nicholas as he went to the hearth. “John was so different from Tristan,” she said, still numbed by the news. “We were never close. I surmised from what Meleagant told me that John had promised me to Meleagant as a bride. I am beginning to wonder if John promised me to the entire Kingdom.”
Nicholas, who was stooped at the fireplace stirring the embers to rekindle the fire, answered, “Nay.” He glanced back over his shoulder at her with a soft smile. “He didn’t promise you to me,” he added with a chuckle.
Noelle gave him a weak smile. She appreciated Nicholas’s attempt to take her mind off her brother’s death. She and John may have had many differences, but he was still her brother.
“Be glad,” Noelle finally said.
Nicholas stood. “At least, the servants thought to prepare the fire,” he commented, changing the subject. “They had faith that you would return.” He tossed a fresh log onto the hot embers, and sparks shot up the chimney. “We should have a roaring fire in just a moment,” he said. Then he withdrew his knife and placed the tip in the fire to heat.
Noelle’s eyes grew big at the sight of the long blade. “I-I know you must be tired. We can attend to my wound on the morrow. It is late.”
“Nay. A wound such as yours cannot wait. I do believe that you are trying to get rid of me,” Nicholas said gently as he came back to the bed.
“Nay.” She smiled bravely, not knowing how to handle this different, caring Nicholas. He had actually smiled a couple of times.
“I must attend the wound tonight lest it fester.”
“I know you’re right,” Noelle admitted. “I just dread the pain to come. I must be a bit of a coward.” But at least the pain would take her mind off John’s death.
“I see that you are a better physician than you are a patient.”
“Agreed,” Noelle said, then frowned. “I care nothing for pain.”
“Well, you did such a fine job of tending me, I will see if I can return the favor. I’ll promise not to cause you too much pain,” he said. “If you’ll remove the bandage, I shall go fetch some wine to pour in the wound.”
She nodded.
Nicholas turned to leave, frowning at his small lie. He knew what he was getting ready to do to Noelle would hurt like the Devil.
Perhaps if he gave her enough wine to drink, it would dull the pain. And if he drank enough wine himself, maybe it would dull his senses.
This was going to be a very long night.
Chapter 14
Noelle slid her gown up her leg and looked at the bandage that Nicholas had applied earlier. The blood had soaked the cloth and it was not dry blood, so she knew the wound was still bleeding. And she knew there would be no other way to stop the bleeding but to cauterize the wound.
She leaned over and retrieved her small, jeweled dagger from the bedside table, then began to cut away the bandage. Having witnessed grown men screaming when she’d cauterized their wounds, she knew what was to come and she was more than a little frightened.
Nicholas had promised not to hurt her. She knew his paltry words had been meant to comfort her, but now she didn’t feel at ease at all. He’d lied. And she knew he’d lied.
She’d finally finished unwrapping most of the bindings; however, some of the material stuck to the wound and she didn’t have the strength to jerk it off. At least, not yet. The wound appeared small and would heal quickly once the bleeding was stopped, and for that she was very thankful. At least, the wound would not require stitches. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Nicholas taking nice, neat stitching. She smiled at the thought. She really couldn’t picture Nicholas taking care of her at all. Perhaps he would get someone to come relieve him so he wouldn’t have to perform such a task.
As if she conjured him up, Nicholas returned carrying a bottle of wine and two gold chalices. Mary, a serving girl from the kitchen, carried a basket of supplies and a small tub of hot water.
Nicholas couldn’t handle the mending; it would be left up to Mary.
“Place the water next to the fire and the basket on the bedside table,” Nicholas commanded the servant.
“Will there be anything else you require, sire?” Mary asked.
“Nay. That is all for tonight,” Nicholas said.
Noelle had been wrong. It seemed that Nicholas intended to care for her himself. Now she would have to be brave. She would not cry in front of him. There was more to this man than most people thought. They only saw the hard outer cover, but she was catching glimpses of the interior Nicholas, and Noelle admired his tender side. She liked what she saw.
Having poured each chalice full of dark, red wine, Nicholas handed one to Noelle. “To Cranborne,” he said lifting the goblet. “May she remain out of the enemy’s hands,” Nicholas toasted touching his goblet to hers.
Noelle smiled at Nicholas’s sweet toast and relaxed manner, and she finally began to relax, too, as she sipped her wine. As soon as she finished her wine, Nicholas refilled her cup and she drank that as well.
Nicholas, however, did not refill his cup. She knew she was going to need her wits dulled so she’d not embarrass herself by screaming, and he needed his mind sharp to do what lay ahead.
Nicholas looked down. “I see the bandage is stuck to your wound.” He reached for one of the extra sheets that Mary had brought in and placed it under Noelle’s leg. Then, he went over to the fire and dipped a cloth in the warm water. He squeezed out the excess water, then returned to Noelle.
When he placed the warm cloth over the wound, she jerked and hissed with the sudden pain, but soon she sagged back against the bed again. Nicholas was acting in a way she’d never imagined he could be. He was gentle.
“There,” Nicholas said as he carefully removed the bandage. “I see that it still bleeds. It is deep.” He frowned. “We will have to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding,” he said as he glanced at Noelle. She had the most magnificent green eyes—they glittered like emeralds—and the trust he saw there warmed his heart. “I am going to pour some wine on the wound. It will sting.”
Noelle nodded. “It is what I would do.” She jerked her leg as the wine burned when it struck the raw wound. “How did you learn the way with wounds?” she asked in a raspy voice, trying to get her mind off the pain.
“When I had no one to turn to, I learned to rely on myself. I watched how others did things.” His mouth twisted wryly. “It has proven useful.”
Noelle longed to reach out and touch the hurt she had seen in his eyes only a moment before. He had so much kindness hidden beneath his gruff exterior. He wore his armor to protect himself from many things, many hurts.
“It’s time,” Nicholas said as he watched the many expressions flit across Noelle’s lovely features.
“I am ready,” she said in a soft voice that shook just a little. But Nicholas saw determination in her eyes, and he was proud of her.
Moving over to the hearth, Nicholas bent down, and with a cloth he picked up the knife and looked at the glowing tip. The knife was ready, but was he? He regretted the pain he was about to cause Noelle, but it could not be avoided.
“I will have to hold you down to keep your body from jerking. Do you need more wine?”
Noelle shook her head. Nicholas saw the fear mirrored in her eyes just before she squeezed them shut.
Nicholas took a long, drawn-out breath as he sat on the bed
. Then he leaned over her middle, trying to support most of his weight on his elbow so as not to crush her with his heavier body. With his free hand he held her thigh. He hated doing this to anyone as delicate as Noelle, but it must be done.
Taking a deep breath, he placed the hot tip of his knife against the wound. The smell of burnt skin made him wince. He removed the blade from her skin, and let his breath out. He had expected to hear Noelle utter a blood-curdling scream.
He heard none.
Finally, Noelle moaned as she reached out to hold Nicholas’s back. She had actually bitten her lip until it bled to keep from screaming, but she finally had to make some kind of noise. Stars swam before her eyes, but she wouldn’t pass out. She willed herself to stay alert. She must not be a weakling in front of Nicholas.
Her stomach had lurched as the fire seemed to consume her leg and reach all the way to her bones. And just when she was nearly ready to beg for mercy, it was over.
Noelle breathed a relieved sigh as Nicholas carried the knife back to the hearth. Her breaths came in rapid little gasps as she tried to calm herself. The pain was easing up some, and her breathing finally returned to normal.
Nicholas returned to sit on the bed. Noelle thought he looked as white as his tunic. He had said nothing, and he didn’t look at her as he quickly wrapped the bandage around her leg.
When he was finished, his eyes finally met hers, and the concern Noelle saw in their depths amazed her.
“I believe that caused me more pain than it did you,” he said trying to lighten the moment.
“I don’t think so.” She managed a small smile.
“I am sorry I had to cause you pain, but there will be no more.”
In a somewhat sulking voice, Noelle said, “That is what you said before.”
Nicholas smiled. “I lied before. This time I speak the truth.”
