HealingPassion (10 page)

“There, ‘tis done.” William released his hold and looked
around for the boy he’d sent off. The youngster arrived at that moment, holding
a saw and grippers. “Bring them here, lad.”

William took the saw from the boy and moved around to Ralf’s
front. Before he started, he redistributed the men around the squire to hold
him steady.

It took several agonizing minutes to saw the head off the
bolt. William had difficulty maneuvering because the tip was still so close to
Ralf’s body, just below his face.

Still steadying his head and trying to keep it out of the
way, Juliana took Ralf’s right hand and let him squeeze hers. Tears ran down
her face, but she said nothing, and held on firmly. Because he couldn’t bear to
look at Ralf or the work on the arrow, Thomas instead watched Juliana.

Her gaze focused on Ralf, and the combination of compassion
and determination in her expression struck Thomas to the heart. Juliana was
everything a man could want in his lady. He could scarce believe his good
fortune to find her, and now, when she should be free to make her own decisions
about her future.

After a minute or two of William’s sawing, Ralf suddenly let
out a sharp cry and went silent. Thomas looked at his face. His squire’s eyes
had closed and his expression smoothed out. Thomas must have made some outcry
because all looked at him.

Juliana tried to offer a reassuring smile. It mostly failed
in that effort but her words succeeded. “He’s fainted. A mercy. God keep him so
until we’re done.”

In that much, at least, God was merciful, and Ralf didn’t
waken. William worked faster with the squire unconscious, and soon had the head
off the shaft. Then he switched sides again to pull it free of the young man’s
body.

Blood poured from the injuries both front and back. William
and Juliana cleaned them both, spread the ointment Juliana had sent for on
them, then bandaged them as tightly as they could.

They turned Ralf and settled him on the bed. Servants
volunteered to keep watch on him through the night, so after cleaning
themselves, the rest of the household retired for the night. Before they left,
Juliana and Thomas both requested they be notified if there were any change in
Ralf’s condition.

Since Ralf occupied Sir Thomas’ bed, Juliana somewhat shyly
invited him to share hers. He was too tired to do more than drop into bed and
fall asleep immediately, but in the few seconds between lying down and drifting
off, Thomas realized again how much he loved having her in his arms, snuggled
against his body. He found so much to admire in Juliana beyond her beauty: her
strength, courage, compassion, fairness, and a sweet sense of humor. It had
taken him long years to find his lady, but she more than justified the wait.

Chapter Nine

Though it felt wonderful to be tucked into Sir Thomas’ arms
and nestled against his warm, strong body, Juliana had a difficult time falling
sleep. She lay awake for a long time, rolling over and over in her mind what to
do next.

She couldn’t let the charade continue. Poor Ralf had nearly
been killed today—and might yet die—in a murder attempt that was likely aimed
at Sir Thomas and was surely intended to help keep her secret. Her efforts to
prevent any more violence on her behalf had failed. There was only one way to
keep anything more from happening now. If Sir Thomas knew her secret and went
immediately to the king with it, it would eliminate any reason for murder.

That didn’t solve the problem of her mother, however. Would
Thomas allow her to remain here long enough to see her mother’s last days lived
in peace and comfort? Would the time it took him to get to the king and return
be long enough? And could she keep from her mother that Sir Thomas knew? Her
mother hadn’t much more time and Juliana desperately wanted that time to be peaceful
and free of worry. The thought of losing her mother made the tears start again,
though she tried to keep her weeping as quiet as possible to avoid disturbing
Thomas.

She would tell him as soon as she reasonably could, beg him
to forgive her and give her the time she needed, and offer her promise she
would face whatever consequences arose from her actions. Would he take her
word, after the lies she’d already told him, though? In truth, so long as they
didn’t torture her, she could face the thought of death. It seemed a fine irony
that she should have that shadow hanging over her now, when she’d finally found
the sort of love, sharing, and companionship she’d looked for in marriage.

It would hurt him to know she’d lied, and to have to report
her guilt to the king. She hated she’d done that to him. She’d put him in a
horrible position of having to make his report to the king or sacrifice his
sense of honor to save her.

After a while she fell into a restless doze.

Near dawn, a knocking at the door woke her. “My lady,” a man
called from beyond the door. “My lady.”

She pushed aside the bed curtains to see that one of her
ladies had answered the door and was speaking with the man. After a moment, the
maid came back to her. “My lady, Wendell says that Ralf is half-awake and
thrashing around in pain. They beg you to come.”

Juliana stood and let the maid help her into her wrapper.

Sir Thomas also stirred. “Find my man, Bertram, and send him
to me,” he requested of the maid.

Juliana nodded for her to do as Thomas asked. She hurried
across the corridor to the room opposite.

Ralf moaned loudly as she entered. His eyes were open but
glazed, and his pale skin showed spots of high color on each cheek. As she
approached the bed, he shouted something and an arm swung wildly.

“Keep him still,” she ordered the woman sitting with him.
“We don’t want the bleeding to start again.”

Between them they held Ralf down to the bed. Thomas came in
and assisted them. Juliana put a hand on Ralf’s forehead. “He has a fever, but
‘tis not too high as yet.” She moved a hand away from the bandage on his chest
and breathed a sigh of relief. “No bleeding again here.” Thomas helped her roll
him far enough to let her ascertain no fresh blood stained the bandages at his
back either.

Two other servants came into the room to check on Ralf’s
condition. Juliana sent one of them to fetch more medicine, while asking the
other to fetch a basin of water from the well, and then relieve the woman who’d
been sitting with Ralf for the past few hours. Together she and Thomas kept
Ralf still while they waited for the others to return.

“Is this bad?” Thomas asked.

The concern in his tone was another knife to her heart. He
cared for his squire and worried about him. “‘Tis expected that he would run
some fever. If ‘tis just reaction to the wound, he should get over it well
enough. A bigger concern is that the wound turn morbid. Should that happen…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “But I’ve put a salve on it my
mother taught me to make. She swears it has kept many an injury clean and
helped it heal. We can only wait and see. But his youth and good health work in
his favor.”

Thomas sighed and nodded. “I’ll be off as soon as he’s
settled. I want to go look at the place where the bolt was fired to search for
clues. I will find out who did this thing.”

“And then?”

He shrugged. “You are the lady of the keep. ‘Tis for you to
say what punishment might be appropriate.”

“Do you find him, we’ll discuss what punishment would be
suitable.”

“I will find him,” he said, the statement so harsh and
confident, she couldn’t doubt it was true.

A servant arrived with the water, followed rapidly by
another with the medicines Juliana had requested. Juliana took a cup and gave
Ralf an infusion meant primarily to bring down fever, then, using a spoon, she
gave him a few drops of the tincture of poppy to relieve his pain and help him
sleep.

A short while later, his attempts to thrash around stopped
and he eased into sleep. By then the sun had risen and its light poured in the
window.

Thomas breathed a loud sigh of relief. “Will he sleep for a
while?”

“Aye, most likely.”

“Good. I’ll take my departure then. I want to get out where
it happened before others trample the ground and no possible sign remains of
who fired the bolt.”

Juliana stood up and moved toward him. “Take care out there.
‘Tis likely whoever fired that bolt intended it for you. And they may well try
again. When you return this evening, we must talk. There are things I need to
tell you.” Ralf groaned in his sleep. “Later.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “Send word to me if he…”

“I will.”

The rest of the day was fairly quiet. Juliana sent someone
to ask Peter Randolph to come to her, but by evening he’d failed to respond.
She spent most of the day on routine jobs, but stopped in to see how Ralf fared
every hour or so.

Thomas returned in the late afternoon, looking tired and
discouraged. His expression suggested he didn’t have much success, but she
hadn’t the opportunity then to question him except briefly. At the time he came
in, Ralf was stirring again and moaning in pain. In addition, his temperature
had started to rise.

“I’ve sent for more of the pain infusion for him,” she
assured Thomas when the knight frowned over his squire. “Did you find any signs
of who shot him?”

“Nothing,” he admitted. “There were no footprints, signs, or
anything else to help. No one saw anything. Though we were in sight of the keep
walls, the bolt was fired from the woods between the road and the hillside. I—”

Ralf kicked the covering off and waved an arm around, nearly
knocking over the cup on the table nearby. Thomas helped her hold him still
again while they waited for the medicine to arrive. The squire’s skin felt very
hot and beads of perspiration stood out at the young man’s temples.

“Is this bad?” Thomas asked. “He feels much hotter than this
morning.”

“Aye, he does. ‘Tis normal that he should run some fever
following such an injury. We can only hope he can come through it.”

“What do you think?” Thomas asked.

As much as she wanted to reassure him that the young man
would soon be well, she couldn’t in all honesty. “I believe that as young and
strong as he is, he should be able to survive it. But only God can say for sure
what will happen.”

The second dinner bell sounded.

“I doubt not you’re hungry,” she said to Thomas. “I’ll stay
here with Ralf for a while. When you go down to dinner, would you ask one of
the servants to have a tray sent up to me? Ask for more cool water to be sent
up as well, if you please.”

“Perhaps I should stay with him while you go down. You’re no
doubt in need of a respite yourself.”

“Nay, ‘tis better I stay. I want to watch the medicine and
its effect on him. There may be need to give him more, but it must be carefully
measured.”

Finally Thomas nodded. The servant arrived with the medicine
shortly thereafter. Another dose calmed Ralf, though it took a while, but his
fever remained high. Juliana began to bathe him with the cool water every few
minutes.

She was wiping the cloth across the young man’s forehead
when Sir Thomas himself returned with a tray of food. A servant followed him,
bearing a basin of fresh water.

Thomas set the tray down on a table. “Let Mary tend him for
a few minutes while we eat.” He dragged a pair of chairs over to the table and
set them on either side of it.

Juliana handed the cloth to Mary, gave her a few
instructions, then joined Thomas. He’d brought them each a beef pie with savory
gravy and a pitcher of ale. Juliana feared he’d want to talk about his
investigation or ask her who she thought might have fired the crossbow, but he
didn’t. Instead he questioned her about various aspects of running the keep,
its history, and the people who lived there.

Juliana breathed a sigh of relief that she hoped he would
interpret as exhaustion. She couldn’t make her confession here and now. Not in
the same room with Ralf and the servants. Not when they were both absorbed by
worry for Ralf and grief for his pain.

After a quick meal she returned to Ralf’s side, where she
planned to stay for the rest of the night or until the fever broke and he began
to recover. Thomas spelled her for a while so she could get a quick rest, but
she felt so uneasy about the squire, she did no more than doze lightly before
rising again to return to him.

For most of the night he remained feverish, sometimes
muttering in delirium or waving arms and legs. One of the servants stayed up
with her, and the two of them bathed him with cool water and tried to keep him
from moving, lest he break open the wounds. By morning he seemed calmer and no
worse, but no better either.

Thomas again brought her food to break her fast in the
morning, and sent her off to bed for a time while he sat with Ralf. He promised
to call her should there be any change. She slept longer this time, but still
woke feeling sluggish and unrested.

* * * * *

William Barber came in around midday to look at Ralf’s
wounds and help her change the bandages. Both of them were relieved to find the
injuries had closed and, aside from some drainage from the hole in his back,
showed little sign of going morbid. Juliana smoothed more salve over both
wounds before they wrapped them in clean linen. Still, his high fever worried
her, and she continued her efforts to cool him down.

Just after midday, her labor was rewarded and the fever
broke. Juliana had noticed that the squire seemed calmer, even when he should
be due for another dose of the fever medicine. His color improved as well. When
she touched his face, she found it cooler, though still clammy with sweat. She
sponged him off and sat by his side, ready to act again should his fever climb.
By the time she finished, Ralf had sunk into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Thomas found her dozing in the chair later in the afternoon.
His kiss woke her from the light sleep in the nicest possible way.

“He looks better,” he commented when he saw her eyes open.

“The fever broke a little while ago. ‘Tis not certain it
won’t return, but it is a favorable sign.”

He tugged her gently to her feet and pulled her against his
chest. “Thank you,” he said. The words rumbled in the ear she had pressed
against him. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

He was grateful now, but how would he feel when he learned
the truth? As he would shortly.

Juliana looked up at him. “Do not thank me yet. He’s not
entirely out of danger.” She stopped and gathered her courage. “Thomas, we need
to talk. Let me call Mary to sit with Ralf.”

He nodded and waited with her for the maid to appear, then
they walked across the corridor to her quarters.

“Have you had any success finding who fired the bolt?” she
asked him.

He sighed. “None. I questioned a number of people in the
keep, but no one admits to knowing anything about it. It can’t be so, but they
will not betray one of their own to me.”

Juliana took a deep breath and stepped away from him.
“Thomas, there’s something I need to—”

A sharp rapping sounded at the closed door, followed by a
man yelling, “Lady Juliana! My lady! Are you within! Your mother—she’s
collapsed. We need you!”

She forgot what she was saying to Thomas, whirled, and went
to the door. “What has happened to my mother?”

Three people stood there and all began to speak at once.

“Lady Ardsley fell—”

“Your mother had a—”

“She went very pale and—”

With all of them speaking rapidly, at the same time, she was
at a loss to follow. “A moment, please. Hush.” She looked at the man she
thought most likely to give her a coherent answer. “George, what has happened
to my mother?”

“She collapsed in the hall, my lady.” Even the usually calm
George sounded breathless. “We’ve taken her to her bed.”

“Is she awake? Has she said anything?”

“Nay, my lady. Her breathing… It doesn’t sound right.”

Juliana’s stomach twisted into a tight, hard knot. She’d
known it would be coming, but she’d hoped not so soon. She wasn’t prepared.

“I’m coming.” She turned back to Thomas. The compassion in
his expression almost undid her. After a brief but fierce struggle, she managed
to control herself enough to say, “We still must talk, but I hope you’ll
forgive and excuse me now.”

He nodded and came to her, put an arm around her shoulders,
and hugged her to his side. “Let’s go see your mother.”

The walk was a short one of just twenty feet or so down the
corridor, but it seemed much longer to Juliana. Only Thomas’ arm around her and
the strength he lent kept her from breaking down. Even so she held her breath
as they made their way to her mother’s quarters, dreading what she would find
there.