by Starla Kaye
The sound of hoofbeats growing closer had him straightening in his saddle. Rowan and Gloriana. They’d no doubt grown impatient with his long silence and unexplained need to stop. He fought down the urge to cough again as they approached.
“Is there a problem, my lord?” Rowan asked loud enough for the men waiting behind them to hear. “Or shall I send a messenger forward?”
Thomas heard the concern in his friend’s tone. “Nay, there is nay problem. I only needed a moment of thought.” Although he tried not to, he did cough now, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. “Tis time we sought hospitality from Abernon. The men need rest and food.”
As Gloriana rode up beside him, he added, “My wife needs rest and food, too.” Another chill swept over him.
Her brow furrowed. “As do you, husband.” She studied him intently.
Thomas felt hot and when he turned from glancing at his wife, he swayed a bit in his saddle. He caught himself and stiffened, hoping Gloriana hadn’t noticed.
But she had. “Thomas? What is wrong?”
He didn’t want to talk about it and shook his head, which only made him more lightheaded. “Tis nothing more than weariness. As we all suffer from.”
Rowan’s frown told him he believed his actions were from more than being tired. Yet he didn’t comment and turned to ride back to find a man to send with the announcement of their arrival.
Gloriana didn’t look satisfied with his excuse, but she gave a nod of acceptance…for now. He knew she would question him later. Her gaze turned to the dark, sprawling castle ahead. “Not a very welcoming sight, is it?”
“Abernon is an ancient castle, built as an imposing, formidable fortress.” He coughed again, pain swelling in his chest.
Gloriana edged her horse closer and reached over to touch his thigh. “Thomas, tell me what is wrong? The color has left your face, yet there is a red sheen beneath your beard. Your eyes, they look glazed.”
His shoulders shuddered, yet he felt beads of sweat on his forehead. “Do not worry. It is exhaustion, no more than that.”
Before she could offer a protest, they heard the loud workings of the wooden wheels and metal gears turning in the distance. He looked toward the castle and saw the drawbridge being lowered, and then the portcullis rising. A guard on the parapet above the gatehouse waved a flag, letting them know they were being allowed to enter.
Thomas didn’t have to look back to know that each of his men had tensed. All knew why their lord had forced them to travel through miserable weather at a tiring speed. They wanted this confrontation over nearly as much as he did. And he knew if he chose to fight for his son—even against unfavorable odds—they would do so. He’d chosen his most loyal, most battle-strong soldiers to accompany him. Still, now he was even more reluctant to take Gloriana into Abernon’s castle. He wanted her safe, not part of any sort of battle. He could leave her here with one or two of his best men.
As if she sensed his thoughts, she snapped, “Do not even think of leaving me behind! I go where you go, my lord.” Rowan returned to ride at his side, his expression hard. “As do I,” he said in a tone that would allow no discussion. He raised a hand and motioned the men forward.
Resigned, Thomas urged his mount to take the lead once more.
***
Gloriana refused to lag behind while her husband prepared to face this difficult situation. Although he scowled sideways at her, she insisted on riding alongside him. “Tis my rightful place,” she stated, as they guided their horses across the long wooden bridge passing over the castle’s wide moat. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of foul water.
Thomas didn’t respond, but she knew his irritation. And when their party was met by several dozen well-armed soldiers in the bailey, she felt irritation herself. Nay, more than that! Anger.
“How dare Lord Abernon present a show of force as we enter his grounds! This is your sister’s home, too.” She bristled in outrage beneath her warm cloak.
“Watch your words, Gloriana,” Thomas bit out, giving her a sharp look before focusing ahead once more. He walked his horse a few feet forward and left her behind.
Her hackles rose even more, but she held her tongue and followed his gaze. A man mayhap five or ten years older than Thomas and every bit as powerfully built stood in full chainmail at the foot of the keep’s steps. The expression on his leanly handsome face was not of welcome. His narrowed eyes looked in challenge at Thomas, and then at Rowan, who had ridden up beside her.
“Lord Middlemound,” the man said, sounding bitter. “Sir Rowan, I assume.” His tone remained hostile. He didn’t even bother acknowledging her. Before her husband could react or respond, a stunning woman with flowing, long black hair much like Thomas’s rushed out of the keep. She held up her long skirt and scurried down the steps to stop in front of Abernon. Gloriana couldn’t see the look she gave him, but assumed it was one of chastisement for he frowned, yet didn’t say anything more.
In the next moment, she hurried closer. A wide smile of delight filling her face. “Thomas. Oh, Thomas. I’m so very glad to see you.”
He started to speak, coughed instead. He swayed a bit in the saddle.
“Thomas?” Elizabeth questioned, looking worried.
Gloriana immediately urged her mount closer to him.
He coughed again, harder. His face pinched as he closed his eyes and swayed even more.
“Thomas!” she cried.
“I…I…” His head lolled and he shifted precariously on his horse. Gloriana all but leapt to the muddy ground, stumbling for a second, caught in the yards of her skirt. She rushed to him just as he slid from the saddle. They went to the ground together. She landed flat on her back; he landed on top of her, nearly crushing her.
“Husband!” she gasped under his great weight. Her heart thundered in panic. She glanced toward the only man nearby that she trusted. “Rowan! Rowan, come help me.” Suddenly there was confusion all around her.
Thomas’s men were scrambling to dismount and attempting to surround and guard their fallen lord. Abernon’s men drew closer, alarmed by the other armed men’s clear tension. A bad situation was quickly becoming much worse, and she feared what might happen. But she worried far more over her beloved than the disgruntled men nearby.
“Thomas.” She gently patted his face to awaken him. “Thomas, please wake up.”
Rowan hurried to her side, kneeling beside her. His strained expression showed the same worry she felt as Thomas remained silent and unmoving. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She could barely breathe, but her discomfort mattered not.
“He…he won’t awaken.” She felt tears stinging her eyes. “Why won’t he awaken?” “Thomas will be all right,” Rowan assured her, though the tension in his face revealed his concern. “We both know he is a strong man.”
She struggled beneath her husband. “He is a heavy man as well.” Yet even though he continued to squash her, Gloriana was reluctant to let him go.
Rowan was about to reach for Thomas when Elizabeth shoved her way through the many soldiers to kneel in the mud next to Rowan. He stiffened and sat back, but Gloriana held his gaze and silently told him to stay with her. She didn’t know any of these people, didn’t trust any of them. Only Rowan and Thomas’s men.
He gave a slight nod.
“What happened? What is wrong with him?” Elizabeth asked in obvious distress. She gently touched Thomas’s leg. “Oh, Thomas.”
Abernon moved to stand above his wife, his expression unreadable but still unfriendly. “He should not have come here if he is ill.”
Gloriana watched fury spread over Rowan’s face, saw anger fill the faces of Thomas’s men. If she weren’t buried beneath her great lummox of a husband, she would… Well, she wasn’t sure what she would do, but it would be bad.
Since she couldn’t do anything else, she glared up at Abernon.
“My husband is ill because of you! We have been forced to ride through God-awful weather to come h
ere at your command.” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she ran a trembling hand overThomas’s face. Alarm spread through her. “Now he’s hot with fever. Ill enough to pass out.”
“You cannot speak to me in such a disrespectful manner,” Abernon said, in a warning growl.
Thomas’s men looked threatening. Rowan prepared to stand, reaching for the knife in his boot.
Abernon’s men put hands to their weapons.
But Gloriana ignored all of them but Abernon. “When you have earned my respect, I shall give it. You have not. All I know for now is that this—my husband being ill—is your fault!”
His chest puffed up in outrage.
Elizabeth stood, turning to glower at her husband. “Enough! My brother is clearly ill; nothing else matters.”
He had the grace—or good sense, in her opinion —to back down. Although Gloriana had stepped on his pride, he grumbled an apology she couldn’t quite hear. Then he heaved a resigned sigh and said, “Get him inside the keep and to a bedchamber.”
Elizabeth gifted her husband with an appreciative look, which appeared to calm him even more. Then she turned to Rowan. “Can you and one of your men carry my brother?”
Abernon stepped close again. “I can help.”
“Nay, you will not touch him.” She pinned him with a look that had him grinding his jaw once more. “Until he is well enough to deal with you, I would rather you keep your distance from him.”
Gloriana decided right then that she liked Thomas’s sister.
But before anymore could be said or done, Thomas moaned and drew everyone’s attention. He raised his head, blinked away obvious fogginess, and said in shock, “God’s teeth! What happened?”
He awkwardly shifted until he could glance in embarrassment at Gloriana. “Wife?” His eyes still looked a bit unfocused. “Are you all right?”
The tension broke around them, replaced by relief and concern. “Aye, but I would be better without your great weight crushing me into the mud.” She tried to give him a weak smile, tried not to let him see her tears of happiness.
He attempted to struggle to his feet, finally being helped by Rowan. Then, still looking unsteady, Thomas reached to pull her upright. “I am sorry,” he said, coughing, wincing from the effort of it.
Gloriana’s coat was sodden with mud, as was her hair and boots. Yet none of her discomfort mattered when her husband was clearly ill. “We must get you inside, my lord. Into a bed. You need rest and some of my medicinals.”
Her stubborn husband was back in a flash, which amused her a bit. He thrust his shoulders back and his hard jaw up. He scowled from her to his sister. “This is foolishness. I am fine. Tis but a cough, no more.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and looked past him to Gloriana. “Why is it men can be so impossible at times? Especially when they are obviously not well.” She shook her head at Thomas. “The bigger, the tougher… the more foolish.”
“Elizabeth,” Abernon protested, only to be frowned into silence.
She focused on Rowan again. “See to it that your lord, my contrary brother, gets into the keep. I will have the maids bring a bathing tub and water up the bedchamber I have already prepared for Thomas and his wife.”
Then she looked to Gloriana. “I am Elizabeth, by the way. I am sorry to have met you in this unfortunate manner.”
Gloriana grimaced at the sad state of her appearance before her new sister-in-law. “Gloriana. And, aye, I would rather have been more presentable.”
When she saw her husband beginning to sway once more, she hurried forward to put herself under one of his arms. Rowan took his other arm to help shoulder the unsteady weight of their lord. “Let us seek out that chamber and put my husband to bed.”
Thomas grumbled under his breath, but didn’t put up any resistance as they led him from the bailey.
***
Nearly a day passed as Gloriana stayed by the bed to care for her sick husband. She’d given him every medicinal she could think of to help with his deep, ragged cough. She’d wiped his heated face and fevered chest with cool water. Her arms ached from her efforts, as did her body. She needed to sleep, but she would not until he was truly on his way back from whatever ailment had set upon him. She hated seeing him brought low like this; he disliked it even more, though he’d had few rational moments since being put to bed.
Unable to sit a moment longer on the hard chair near the bed, she stood and stretched. His fever had finally broken but an hour ago and he slept more restfully. The worst was over; she was sure of it.
She turned to look first at Elizabeth, standing on the other side of the bed, and then at Rowan, hovering by the windows. Neither had left for more than a few minutes in all this time. “I think you can both leave now, seek rest yourselves.”
“You need rest as well, my lady,” Rowan said in concern. “I will sit with him while you go to my chamber and …”
Gloriana shook her head, making him smile in understanding. “Nay, I will stay here until Thomas fully awakens.” She looked to Elizabeth.
The gentle-yet-fierce woman had been quiet much of the time she’d helped wash her brother down. She’d spent much time tenderly holding one of his hands; her love for Thomas was obvious. She’d also spent much time quietly studying both Gloriana and Rowan.
Elizabeth had been worried about Thomas and had seemed to respect the depths of worry they had as well. Gloriana had felt uncomfortable knowing she was being judged in some way, Rowan, too. But she’d decided to give her sister-in-law time to make her judgments and prayed she would make the right ones. She tensed now that Elizabeth looked seriously toward them.
“My brother has suffered much in life. I had no idea how much until now.” She gently tucked the linen higher over his chest. “It is good he has people who care about him.” She glanced toward Rowan. “Someone who understands what he has gone through.”
Gloriana remained silent, waiting for Rowan to respond. She knew what Elizabeth referred to. She, too, had listened to the fevered ramblings and anguished cries of her husband through the long hours of the night. Her heart had ached watching him toss about, hearing him experience again one battle after another. He’d cried out his sorrow at having killed one man, and then another. Each death claimed a part of his soul.
After a few seconds, Rowan said cautiously, “Aye, I care for him, and I understand what he suffers.”
He faced the window, leaned his arms beside it and sighed heavily. “Tis never easy to take someone’s life, even in wars where you have no choice. Good men, like Thomas, never forget.”
“Aye, Thomas is a good man, no thanks to our father,” Elizabeth stated quietly, sounding bitter. “You have fought long beside my brother?”
“Nay, we have only known each other since the battles in Tunis. He saved my life.” Gloriana heard the strain in Rowan’s voice and remembered some of what Thomas had told her. “You saved his life as well.”
Elizabeth seemed to weigh what they’d said before speaking again. “And you are prepared to fight by his side again, are you not, Sir Rowan?” Elizabeth asked with uneasiness in her tone. “If it would come to fighting my husband for Thomas’s son, you would be at my brother’s side?”
He faced her with steely determination on his face. “I will always fight at Thomas’s side. My loyalty to him is unconditional.”
“As is mine,” Gloriana inserted. “Although I would hope it not necessary, I will hold a sword in battle right alongside both Thomas and Rowan.”
Once more Elizabeth studied them in silence for a couple of minutes. Then she gave a weak smile. “My brother is blessed to have two such devoted people who care so much for him.”
She held Rowan’s gaze. “Who love him.”
Rowan tensed and Gloriana understood his concern. She would not have him upset, not have him shunned because of his love for her husband. She straightened to her full height and faced her sister-in-law. “There is nothing wrong with the way Rowan and my husband feel about one ano
ther. Nothing.”
“Nay, not in my opinion, either. But I had wondered how you truly felt, Sir Rowan. Now I know.” Elizabeth hesitated. “It bothers me not what happens between you and Thomas. Although I admit to being a bit confused with Gloriana now his wife.” Gloriana wasn’t sure what to say and Rowan appeared to be as tongue-tied as her. The subject was a delicate one.
“None of this has to do with me. I only want to see Thomas happy. James, too.” She heaved a sigh. “It is my husband who is the problem. He is quite opposed to men who…” she blushed, “to men who love other men. Yet you, Sir Rowan, greatly puzzle him.”
“Puzzle him? Why is that?” Gloriana couldn’t help asking, glancing from Rowan and back to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth looked at Rowan, in admiration and in curiosity. “Sir Rowan’s reputation with women is well-known. He is something of a legend really. Still, it is known that he has relations from time to time with men.” Gloriana knew of Rowan’s reputation with women. Marie had praised him in a private moment of gossip. And, after her own limited experience with only one of his talents, she understood it. She’d also known he’d been with other men before Thomas, but she hadn’t been aware that part of his life was talked about. She’d not seen any of the Middlemound men or Montrose men showing any dislike for being around him. Probably because they were jealous of his reputation with women.
“How do you know of my relations with Thomas?” Rowan asked darkly, interrupting Gloriana’s musings.
Elizabeth shifted uneasily and looked at her brother. It took her a moment before she answered. “One of our former knights was a man you had… well, bedded.”
Rowan tensed, his face drawing tight. Gloriana worried about him and was feeling uncertain about Elizabeth. She would support Rowan however she could.
“Before you tossed him aside for Thomas in Tunis,” Elizabeth continued, again looking curiously at Rowan. “Or so the man claimed.” Her expression softened as she glanced from Rowan to Thomas and back to Rowan. “Clearly, he had been unhappy to lose your…your attentions.”
