HealingPassion (11 page)

Chapter Ten

Thomas held onto Juliana as they approached her mother’s
chamber. She trembled so hard, he feared she would collapse without his support.
Most likely she wouldn’t, though. She’d already been through much and dealt
with it. She had a strength to equal the two other remarkable women he’d met,
the two his friends had wed. But it pleased him to think he could give her some
assistance.

The figure in the bed looked tiny and shrunken. With her
eyes closed, skin pale, and features drained of all vitality, Lady Ardsley was
just a tiny wisp of a woman. The spark of life burned low in her and would soon
flicker out entirely.

Juliana jerked to a halt a few feet from the bed. Her
startled gasp turned into a sob before she could suppress it. The sound cut off
sharply, though, as she swallowed her reaction.

She finished the journey to the bed and said softly,
“Mother?”

For some time nothing happened, though Juliana called softly
several more times. Finally, the old lady opened her eyes and tried hard to
smile. “Juliana.” The word was a harsh, labored croak. “Come here, my love. I’m
going home soon.”

“Mother, no!” An unsuppressed sob accompanied her protest.

“Aye. ‘Tis time. I’m tired, Juliana, and the pain… The flesh
is…too much of a burden. I’d be quit of it. I only want…” Lady Ardsley had to
take a moment to catch her breath. “I have one more thing.”

The woman turned to look at him, and even that small movement
cost her effort and pain.

“Sir Thomas.” She let out a small sigh. “May I speak with
you?” She glanced at Juliana and the servants in the room. “In private? For a
moment?”

“Of course, my lady.” He nodded for the servants to leave.

Juliana hesitated, her features twisted into an agonized
frown.

“I’ll not let her over-tax herself,” Thomas promised. “And
should she…get worse, I’ll call you immediately.”

Finally Juliana sighed and nodded. “A moment or two only,
please, Thomas.”

“A moment or two only.”

She left the room, her normally light, quick step, slow and
heavy.

Lady Ardsley watched him steadily. A small, fragile spark
animated her features as she reached out painfully, groping for his hand. He
took hers and clasped it. It felt like holding a bundle of bones.

“Sir Thomas.”

He moved closer to the bed, groping for the chair and moving
it with his free hand. He sat. “My lady?”

“I am at the end of my time. I would ask a favor of you.”

“If it’s in my power, my lady, whatever you will.”

“Juliana,” Lady Ardsley answered. “When I’m gone…she’ll have
no one. None to take care of her.”

“She seems well able to care for herself and those who
depend on her.”

The dying woman shook her head. “It seems so, but,
truly…Thomas…she needs someone. Love and companionship. She has suffered much.
More than you know. And she is so alone.”

Again she had to pause to gather her strength.

“You care for her,” the lady said. “I’ve seen it. And she
cares for you.”

“Aye,” Thomas agreed. “It should rest your spirit to know I
would make her my wife, should the king approve. I have no reason to think
he’ll refuse.”

A small smile curved the thin, pale lips. “Aye, it gladdens
my heart. But…” Her chest rose and fell several times before she spoke again.
“Your oath, Sir Thomas. That you’ll take care of Juliana. Would you swear it to
me?”

The request stunned him so, it took a moment to answer. What
she asked involved a considerable responsibility, yet it was not much different
from the promises he hoped to make to Juliana herself in the form of wedding
vows. “My lady, if it gives you ease, I’ll do so.”

She gripped his hand tighter. “Please, Sir Thomas. Swear on
your honor as a knight…that you’ll guard and care for Juliana all the…days of
your life.”

He put his other hand on top of hers, so that her small,
frail fingers hid between his much larger ones. “My lady, I swear to you, on my
honor as a knight, that I will protect and care for Juliana to the best of my
ability, so long as I live.”

Lady Ardsley tightened her grip on his hand, a gesture of gratitude,
he thought. The desperate worry in her expression eased to peace and
contentment. She sighed lightly as she relaxed. “Thank you, Sir Thomas.
You…give my spirit peace. Take joy in…Juliana. With my blessing.”

Her eyelids slid down, but then rose again more slowly.
“Send Juliana to me now, if you will. But, if you please, do not tell her
what…you’ve promised.”

“As you wish.” He stood up, gazing down on the slight
figure. The animation had once again drained from her features. “May your soul
rest in God, my lady.”

Thomas left the room. Several servants loitered in the hall.
Two of them returned to Lady Ardsley’s quarters at his nod. “Where is Lady
Juliana?” he asked the woman who remained.

“With your squire, my lord.”

“How fares he?”

“I know not, but when I looked in—”

She broke off as Juliana opened the door and joined him in
the corridor. He met her fearful glance and nodded to indicate her mother yet
lived. Relief softened her expression. Thomas glanced toward the door through
which she’d just exited.

“He improves, I believe,” Juliana said, seeing his anxiety.
“The fever has not returned. His sleep is peaceful and his heartbeat is
strong.”

Her expression quizzed him, but she didn’t ask what her
mother had wanted.

“She’s resting,” he said. “She seems at ease.”

A man rushed along the corridor toward them, long black robe
flapping around him. “Father Samuel,” Juliana said. “I’m relieved you’re here.”

“Your mother, my lady?”

Juliana nodded.

The priest bowed to her and then to Thomas. The man’s
ascetic features showed genuine concern as he pulled a bottle of holy oil from
a pocket of his cassock. Thomas followed Father Samuel and Juliana back into
the dying woman’s room, watching as the priest gave Lady Ardsley the last
rites, anointing her with oil and praying over her. When he asked for them all
to join in prayer, Thomas knelt beside Juliana.

Once they concluded, he excused himself to check on Ralf. He
found the young man sleeping peacefully, guarded by a tired servant who snapped
to attention when Thomas entered. The man relaxed but showed a bit of guilt.

“Has he awakened yet?” Thomas asked.

“Nay, my lord, though he has stirred once or twice. I think
‘twill not be long before he does.”

“Go rest a while,” Thomas ordered. “I’ll sit with him.
Should Lady Ardsley grow worse, however, return forthwith so I may be with Lady
Juliana.”

The man nodded, rose, and departed.

Thomas sat in his place, watching Ralf sleep. The squire
stirred occasionally and even muttered once or twice. As it wasn’t the
hysterical raving of delirium, nor did it suggest any discomfort, Thomas made
no attempt to quiet him.

The peace and quiet gave him time to think about many
things: his relationship with Juliana and the future he hoped for with her; the
mysterious assailant; Lord Groswick’s disappearance; the attacks on him and
Ralf.

The warning bell for dinner roused him from his
considerations. Since no one had come to him, he presumed no changes had
occurred in Lady Ardsley’s condition. But when the manservant returned to
relieve him, Thomas went back to see if there was any news.

Juliana and two female servants sat in chairs surrounding
the bed, but the dying woman lay still and unmoving. They all looked up at him
as he peered in the door. Juliana beckoned him to enter.

“She’s sunk into a deeper sleep. Her breathing is slowing
and her heartbeat is weak. I fear she may not wake again.” Only a small break
on the word “fear” betrayed Juliana’s grief. Her expression was set and
controlled, her eyes dry but shadowed. He wished he could embrace her, hold her
against him, and let her draw on his strength, but he hadn’t the right. Yet.

“Shall I bring up some dinner for you?”

Juliana looked surprised. Sunk in concern for her mother,
she’d either not heard the bell or hadn’t considered eating. “I don’t believe I
could eat.”

“You need to keep up your strength. Too many people depend
on you.”

She nodded, and he went downstairs to collect food and
servers. When he returned, he enlisted the help of the other two women in the
room, neither of whom had any qualms about eating, to persuade Juliana to
consume a small trencher of venison stew.

Later he tried to convince her to retire to bed for a few
hours rest, leaving him and the servants to watch with her mother, but she
refused. Even his promise that they’d send for her should there be any change
failed to get her to go. He sat with her for a while instead.

Lady Ardsley’s breathing slowed and grew shallower
throughout the night. It stopped completely just as the sky began to lighten.

Juliana leaned over to kiss her mother’s face and held onto
her hand, her shoulders heaving as sobs she could no longer control finally
overwhelmed her. After a while Thomas moved to her side and gently drew her to
her feet.

“She’s gone. Come with me.” He led her out of the room.

A crowd consisting of most of the household waited outside.
Many of them had been there all night. He nodded to let them know it was over.
William Randolph led the others into the room as Thomas drew Juliana out. He
felt sure Randolph would do what was necessary now.

He carried Juliana to her quarters, kicked the door shut
behind him, and sat on the side of the bed, cradling her in his arms. She
buried her head in his shirt while she wept. Folds of cloth on either side of
the shirt were bunched into her fists where she held on tightly. Her body shook
and the dampness soon penetrated the fabric over his chest.

She cried in near silence, broken only by the occasional
louder sob. But the tears flowed hard enough and long enough to soak most of
the front of his shirt. Thomas held her firmly and brushed a hand through her
hair in an attempt at comfort.

He fought back a few tears of his own, both in sympathy with
Juliana’s sorrow, and in a more personal regret for the passing of Lady
Ardsley. He’d liked the old lady and hoped her soul now rested with the Lord.

Juliana’s weeping continued for a long time. It didn’t
surprise him. She’d kept a lot of grief contained within her, and it needed to
come out now. He made no attempt to stop or calm her, but sat quietly, struggling
with his own feelings. Holding her so felt more right than anything he’d ever
known before. How long would he have to wait before he could decently talk with
her about their marriage?

After a while, her crying wore down to a series of
hiccupping sobs. “I got your shirt wet,” she said, her voice wavering from the
effects of prolonged weeping. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed softly. “You’ve naught to regret. I’ve added some
moisture of my own.”

She looked up at him, startled. She reached up and wiped a
tear from his cheek with a finger, then studied it for a moment. Her face
twisted, and he feared she’d break down again. “I’ve much to regret. But now is
not the time.”

The words puzzled him, but when she sighed and relaxed
against him, he didn’t want to disturb her by asking what she meant. She
snuggled closer. Her breast squeezed into his chest, its softness a rousing
pressure on his flesh. He kissed the top of her head. He wanted to kiss every
other inch of her, but this wasn’t the time. Instead he allowed himself to
indulge in visions of a future together, possibly here, or possibly somewhere
else, depending on the king’s will.

When he roused from the reverie, the calm rhythm of her
breathing indicated Juliana had drifted off into sleep. Carefully, so as not to
rouse her, he eased her off his lap and back onto the bed, arranging her head
on one of the pillows. He stood beside her to straighten her legs, then he
walked around the bed and lay down beside her. He slid into sleep as well,
though it didn’t last long.

The angle of sunlight coming in the window when he woke told
him he’d slept no more than a couple of hours. Juliana still lay in the
position he’d set her in. She’d had no rest for two nights running and needed
this sleep, so he rose carefully, moving slowly to avoid jarring the bed. He
changed clothes quietly and eased the door shut when he left the room. He found
a servant out in the hall and asked that a guard be set outside the room to
ensure Juliana would not be disturbed before midday.

The servant watching over Ralf looked up and nodded to him
when Thomas peeked in at that door. “He woke earlier,” the woman said softly.
“He wanted a drink. I got it for him and he went back to sleep.” Thomas glanced
toward the bed. Despite the bandages and his pale complexion, the young man
looked better.

Thomas left the room, went down through the great hall and
out into the bailey. The weather had changed considerably since his outing with
Ralf and Bertram. Winter now tried to chase away the lingering pleasantness of
fall. Clouds obscured the sky, and the wind had a raw chill to it, suggesting
cold rain or even snow approaching.

Choosing people at random, he questioned those who passed by
on errands, asking them about Lord Groswick, when he left, what people thought
of him as lord, where they thought he might be now.

Two people were so intimidated by him they managed to give
only one or two-word answers that told him little. A third person stuttered too
badly to get out more than a few words altogether. But another two did answer
questions, and their uneasiness in responding began to solidify his coalescing
suspicion. Groswick was not only dead, these people knew he was, and for some
reason, they wanted to hide the fact.

Had he died of a normal disease or an ordinary accident, the
word would surely have been passed on to the king. Even if they wished to
remain under Lady Juliana’s rule, they would have known it wasn’t possible. Had
he died of some shameful illness such as leprosy that might have brought
quarantine on them? More likely, save that he saw no sign anyone here suffered
from such a thing. Plague, perhaps? But the pestilence spread with such
virulence, the keep would have been much less populous.