Bridging the Storm

by Meredith Bond

  “He has tried, my sweet. You know he has. But he has said innumerable times that he knows of no magic that will cure the children.”

  Tatiana fought the sadness that burned through her, displacing the anger from only a moment ago. She’d rather feel anger than this consuming sadness, but there was nothing for it. “Even Merlin said he didn’t know of any way to save them except by binding,” she admitted. She hated to acknowledge defeat. Hated it with a passion.

  “I don’t like the idea of binding their lives to yours. What if it harms the baby? What if it harms you?”

  Tatiana could only shake her head. “He did say it would hurt me at the moment and sap my strength, but it won’t hurt the baby. He said so.”

  Kit just stared at her for a moment. Tatiana wished she could see what was going through his mind, but he’d closed it off from her. He was frightened and unhappy, she could see that much. Finally he sighed. “I don’t like it, Tatiana. No matter what Merlin said, I just don’t like it.”

  “There may be no other option,” she said.

  He met her statement with dissatisfied silence.

  DAGONET LEANED OUT over the railing of the bridge to watch the river lazily flow under him. He was in such trouble.

  After avoiding it for nearly two hundred years, he was well on his way to getting caught once again in the hairiest of traps—love.

  In his mind’s eye, Kate's vibrant blue eyes had replaced his last wife, Margaret's intelligent green ones. His fingers longed to run through Kate's lovely, mahogany curls instead of Margaret's thick, blond tresses. Kate's generous curves made the blood pound through his veins just as Margaret's slender, gentler curves had.

  A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He would never forget Margaret. Could never replace his lost love. But now… he nearly groaned in frustration. Now it was Kate who stole all of his waking thoughts just as Margaret had so many years ago.

  Margaret with whom he'd spent the most wonderful lifetime. They'd lived happily in their simpler time. Children had brought them joy and then grandchildren followed. Before the great–grandchildren could come, Margaret had left him, passing on to that better place which eluded Dagonet even now. Oh, how he'd longed to follow her and die peacefully, spending eternity with her in the afterlife.

  But it wasn't to be.

  No matter how hard he tried, he just could not die.

  That is why he had to avoid Kate, avoid becoming involved. He couldn't take that… again.

  The first time with Eleanor was painful, but he'd gotten over it. The second time with Margaret sent him searching the world for a way out, a cure so that he could join her. A third time with Kate? No. He just couldn’t do it. He could not!

  He needed to leave. Now. Before his heart became any more involved. If he didn't, he would only drown in a glow of happiness that would eventually lead to pain and suffering when Kate died and he did not. He had gone through this before. He could not do it again.

  The pounding determination in his heart mimicked a pounding on the bridge as a dog thrumped by. But as soon as the dog passed, sweet laughter followed.

  "Oh! Sir Arthur!" Kate's voice was breathless with laughter. "I will never run as fast a dog," she panted, coming to a stop just next to him.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Cherington," Dagonet said, unable to stop the smile that threatened to take over his entire face. He turned to look down at the dog that had come back to rejoin its lost companion.

  "I do hope that this isn't…" he started.

  "One of the footman?" Kate laughed. "No. This one was truly born a dog, I'm happy to say."

  He chuckled in relief. "Good!"

  "You looked to be deep in thought, sir. I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said, her head cocked a little as she looked up at him. Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  "No! No. Not at all, not at all. I was just… thinking."

  “Is something bothering you?” she asked, her smile replaced with honest concern.

  He started to deny that there was but stopped himself. She should be the first to know. It was only fair. “I'm afraid my time here at Vallentyn is coming to an end, that's all.”

  “That's all?” she repeated, surprise and sadness filling her voice. “But… It's my aunt isn't it? She's driving you away with her worry and obsession with the children. I assure you…”

  “No.” he said quickly, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “No. It's not Lady Vallentyn.”

  “But then, what is it?”

  “It is you, I'm afraid,” he said suddenly without thinking.

  “Me?” She took a step back from him, as well she should. She looked stricken, as if she might cry.

  Dagonet’s heart began to pound with an awful ache inside his chest.

  “Have I done something? Said something? If so, please accept my sincere apologies; it was clearly unintentional.”

  He reached out and took her hand in his own. “No, no! You misunderstand. My terrible tongue, you know!”

  Her eyebrows knitted together in concern as she looked up at him, allowing her hand to rest gently within his own.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong, I assure you.”

  “But then…?”

  “That is the problem. You’ve done everything right.”

  She shook her head. “I'm afraid I don't understand. If I have done nothing wrong, why do feel you must leave?”

  Dagonet sighed and dropped her hand. “How can I explain this?” He paused, and this time thought carefully about what to say before he let his tongue run away with him. “I'm afraid I'm not the settling down type. I’m the here and gone sort, really.”

  She still looked confused, so he tried to explain further, hoping that he didn’t muddle things up even worse. “I'm bound for South America soon, and before anything happens to make my departure even more difficult, I thought it best if I make my exit now. Do you understand?”

  “What would make your leaving difficult?”

  “You,” he said, trying for a smile to ease the bluntness of the word. He really didn’t see how he could explain it any better, not with his tongue and brain tripping over each other as they did too often when he was with her.

  She looked up at him, thought about this for a few minutes and slowly moved closer to him as she did so. “So, am I understanding this correctly? The problem is that you like me?”

  “Er… Yes, I suppose you could put it that way.”

  Then before he could comprehend her intentions, her arms came around his neck pulling him down as she planted her lips against his.

  Chapter Sixteen

  AS KISSES WENT, it couldn't have been clumsier—or sweeter. Everything within him softened into slush.

  She clearly had no idea what she was doing, but was certainly trying quite hard to do it right.

  Before he burst out laughing at her awkward attempt, he took control of the situation and wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, his thumb caressing the sweet softness of her cheek. He tickled her lips with his tongue until, with a sigh, she opened to let him in.

  As the soft sound escaped her lungs, he knew he was well and gone. No. There would be no leaving now. There would be nothing for a good long while but exploring the sweetness that was Miss Cherington’s mouth.

  A warm breeze wrapped around them, caressing Dagonet, as a stray curl of Kate's hair licked at his cheek.

  Her tongue tentatively reached out to touch his, but then pulled back like a frightened little mouse. She resorted to delicate little kisses across his lips, which only made him want to lead her further into her first hesitant steps of the complex dance that men and women had re–enacted for millennia.

  The blossom of happiness that settled in his gut was absolutely going to destroy all his plans. He knew it. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He wasn’t even sure at this point that he cared.

  No! He couldn't think that way. He had to keep his wits about him, or he would surely be lost.

  Reluctantly,
he pulled back and away from her.

  Her eyes held that luscious look of desire.

  He leaned toward her once again, but stopped himself.

  "No!" The word fell from his mouth, dropping to his feet in anguish.

  This time she pulled back, her eyes snapping all the way open. "No?"

  "No. We should not be doing this, Miss Cherington—Kate. It's not right! I'm leaving," he said as much to convince himself as her.

  "Are you certain you want to leave just yet?" she asked. She blinked up at him in such a way that he began to laugh. It was a trick that women had been successfully using for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

  "What?" she asked, looking a little hurt.

  He just shook his head. "You are trying to tempt me into staying—and doing an excellent job of it—but I mustn't."

  "I wasn't trying to do anything!" she said, now looking like the innocent she truly was.

  "You kissed me. Do you claim that as not doing anything?"

  She gave a little shrug. "You kissed me back."

  "I did," he agreed. "I shouldn't have, but..."

  "But?"

  "I have a hard time not kissing a beautiful woman when she kisses me," he admitted.

  A small, sly smile crept onto her lips. "Then kiss me again."

  "I should not. I really, really should not," he said as his lips descended to hers.

  This time she didn't shy away when his tongue invited hers to the dance. This time she joined in with an innocence that was as enticing as it was sweet.

  Once again, a warm breeze wrapped them in its soft cocoon.

  Eventually, the need to breathe properly pulled them apart.

  “Are you certain you need to leave?” she asked.

  “Perhaps I can stay a little longer.” He was going to be so very sorry; he knew it.

  “You did promise me those fencing lessons,” she pointed out with a hopeful little smile.

  He chuckled. “So I did.”

  “And your expedition to South America isn’t leaving right away is it?”

  “No. I’m not quite sure when it’s leaving. In fact, I have yet to hear back from the men who are organizing it. I should, though, any day now.”

  “But until then…?”

  “Until then,” he agreed. Oh, he was in such trouble, he thought, as he reached for her once again.

  “WHAT ARE YOU thinking about?” Jamie asked, his little voice hoarse from coughing. The question was preceded by another coughing fit. He wiped his mouth with the handkerchief in his hand as he waited for her answer.

  Kate gave a little shrug and tried to wipe the silly smile from her face. It was probably why the child had asked. She knew she’d been smiling like a fool ever since she’d come into the nursery from her encounter with Sir Arthur. Try as she might, she just couldn’t hide it. She was happy. Stupidly, deliriously, ridiculously happy!

  “You look like you did something you know you shouldn’t have done,” her little cousin persisted. “Did you? What did you do? Will you get into trouble?”

  This time Kate did laugh. He seemed so eager for her to be reprimanded. Maybe that was because it had been over a week since he’d been so himself. He was such a little trouble–maker!

  “I am not in any trouble!” she finally answered, “because no one is going to find out what I have done.”

  “I am. You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?” He looked up at her, blinking at her with wide eyes. The trick had made him adorable when he’d done it before his illness. Now, the dark smudges under his eyes and sallow skin of his face made Kate’s heart sick and her throat clog up with tears.

  She swallowed hard so that he wouldn’t see how he’d affected her. Very deliberately she bent her mind to Sir Arthur and what they had shared. It was the only way to hide her fear for Jamie. “Only if you promise me you won’t tell anyone, and I mean anyone else!”

  “I promise,” he said raising the hand with the bloodied handkerchief in it.

  When he recovered from his next coughing fit, Kate nodded and said, “Well, if you must know…”

  “I must,” he croaked.

  She laughed, but continued on. “I met Sir Arthur on the bridge this morning.”

  “Who?”

  “Sir Arthur. He’s the man here to see if he can’t teach your Mummy how to make you better. I told you about him before.”

  “Oh! The one you spied on one night?”

  “Yes. That’s the one. That was the night he arrived.”

  “I remember,” Jamie said, before relapsing into more coughing. “So you’re meeting him on the bridge?”

  “Well, just a few times. We’ve met in other places as well. At dinner, of course, and in the wood the other day,” she admitted. She considered telling him about the attacking trees, but was sure he wouldn’t believe that trees could attack like that or that she, a girl, could fight them off with a branch.

  “And you met him on the bridge,” Jamie said.

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s made you happy?”

  Kate bit back another giggle. “Yes, it has.”

  “Sounds like you’re becoming friends with him. Is he nice?”

  Her smile broadened. “Yes, he is. Very nice.” She liked the idea that she was becoming friends with Sir Arthur. Now that she thought about it, she was certain Jamie was right. They were becoming friends. But it was even more wonderful that they were becoming more than friends.

  She hoped her face didn’t show it, but she couldn’t help but remember how bold she had been to give him a kiss. She hadn’t planned on doing so at all. She was rather shocked when she suddenly found herself pulling his head down to hers and planting her lips on his.

  And then… oh!

  She’d never kissed anyone, and she was sure it had been sadly obvious. But he’d been so sweet and showed her how. And how!

  “You’re blushing,” Jamie told her.

  She put her hand to her cheek. It did feel hot. “I’m just thinking that you may be right that Sir Arthur and I are becoming friends. It’s nice. I haven’t made a new friend in a very long time.”

  “Well, no. How could you?”

  Oh, from the innocent mouths of children! Indeed, how could she? She never went anywhere. Never met anyone. She stayed here at Vallentyn and took care of her little cousins. But now she had met someone. Someone amazing. Someone wonderful.

  Someone she wanted to kiss—again!

  TATIANA SAT UP and quickly swiped her handkerchief across her eyes as Kit entered her room. She had tried to be good and get some rest as he’d suggested, but the tears had come unbidden.

  It was still a few hours till dinner and she’d spent most of the afternoon in the nursery with the boys and little baby Caroline. She knew Kit would scold her if she were too tired to even eat dinner that evening, so she’d attempted to nap. Tears just came more easily than sleep.

  Kit gently brushed his thumb across her cheek as he sat down at the edge of her bed. “They’re not doing well, are they?” he asked needlessly.

  Tatiana had to hold her breath for a minute to suppress the sob that rose in her throat. She shook her head while she did so. “Caroline’s getting worse,” she said finally.

  Her husband sighed heavily and then studied his hands in his lap. “Then I think we’d better do this, Tatiana.”

  “Do what?” she whispered, hoping that he meant what she thought he did.

  “The binding.”

  A sigh of relief whooshed from her lungs. “Are you sure? You were against it before.”

  He nodded. “I’m not happy about it, but I don’t see that we have a choice now do we?” He took her hand in his. “Sir Arthur hasn’t been able to provide any possible solutions, Merlin knew of nothing else, and the doctors…”

  “Are useless,” she finished for him.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “We’ll need to gather some things together.”

  “Yes. What did Merlin say we needed?”


  Tatiana thought about it for a moment. “A knife, bandages, some herbs and Kate to help out. Perhaps Sir Arthur can be of use, too.”

  Worry and a touch of horror filled his eyes. “The idea of…

  Tatiana nodded. “The exchange of blood. I know. I’m certain Kate will be able to hold the children and distract them while it happens, though. She’s good with them, and they trust her.”

  Kit sighed. He didn’t like this. Tatiana could feel that, see it in his eyes. But he would not let his children die if there was anything at all that could be done to save them. Thank God they felt alike on this matter.

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll see to the knife and bandages. You get together the herbs, and we’ll send a servant for Kate and Sir Arthur,” he said, standing up. “We’ll do this, Tatiana. Not because we want to, or we like it, but because there is no other way.”

  Tatiana gave a nod. As Kit left her room, she dropped her face into her hands and prayed with all her might that they were doing the right thing. That it would work. That her children would survive this ordeal.

  Chapter Seventeen

  LESS THAN TWENTY minutes later, she stole into the nursery. She listened to the rattling of the boys’ breath—a sound she was determined to even out into the smooth breathing of healthy children.

  She woke little Jamie with a cool cloth to his burning forehead.

  “Wake up, my sweet,” she cooed softly to him.

  He responded with a violent fit of coughing, spewing blood into the handkerchief Kate had placed in her hand just in case.

  “Mummy.” His voice, weak and hoarse, brought fresh tears to Tatiana’s eyes.

  She blinked them back however and gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s time to make you better, my love.”

  “You can do that?” he asked.

  “Not by myself, I’ll need your help.” If he didn’t have the strength to help her, she wasn’t certain if she alone had enough to tie him to her. Fear sent shards of ice under her skin.

  “We need you to be strong and brave, young man. Do you think you can do that?” Sir Arthur asked, coming closer to the other side of the bed. She’d been so preoccupied that she hadn’t even heard the others come in behind her.