wcEND.rtf (11 page)

Sudden weariness took ho
l
d of her. "I am quite tired," she said, hoping both Maude and Hunter would take the hint and leave her alone.

"A bath would do you wonders," Maude offered.

A bath did sound great, and if she couldn't get rid of both of them, at least Hunter would go now, for surely a medieval man wouldn't stick around while his wife bathed. Hoping she was not mistaken, Isabel nodded agreement.

By the looks of it, Maude had already expected to provide a bath for her
l
ady, for all the necessary items for
the task were readily available at the room. Isabel didn't remember seeing any of these earlier before she'd gone in pursuit of Hunter. Using a small bucket, Maude began transferring the hot water from the caldron in the fireplace to a round tub that looked
l
ike the half of a huge wine barrel.

How was she going to fit in that small tub? Isabel wondered as she followed the steam wafting in the air. After that was done, Maude added cold water to the tub until she was satisfied the water's temperature was just right. She tested it by immersing her elbow into the tub every so often.

Finally, Maude moved to a small wooden box and from inside she withdrew a pretty blue flask. She dropped a dollop of its contents into the tub. A whiff of rosemary floated to Isabel and for some reason Deira's obviously chosen scent bothered her more than it should. It was
l
ike she was looking inside someone's medicine cabinet. It was so intrusive.

Isabel shook her head. Why would such a small transgression bother her, considering she'd snatched the woman's body?

"Let me help you undress, my lady."

Not in front of Hunter!

Before Isabel had a chance to voice her protest, however, Hunter came to stand before her.

"Allow me the honor." His eyes captured Isabel's in a dark, mesmerizing gaze.

Keenly aware of his proximity, Isabel read the command in his voice. An offer could be refused; a command must be obeyed. It was obvious Maude understood the difference for she swiftly backed out of the way.

Isabel wasn't as keen to mimic her behavior.

She gathered her skirts to step out of Hunter's seeking hands. "I would rather you did—
n
ot."

Hunter caught her in his arms, easily preventing her evasive maneuver, and brought her flush to his hard body, dangling her feet above the floor. D
é
tra wasn't exactly a petite woman, yet Hunter seemed to spend no great effort holding her airborne.

"It is a pleasure I would eagerly partake," he whispered in her ears.

Isabel held her breath as goose bumps spread down her neck. She had no doubt Hunter would enjoy such a treat, but there was no way in hel
l
she would allow him the pleasure.

She pushed away from him, her feet touching the floor again, and ke
e
ping a hold of her gown, she hurried to the window. From there she spun around to face him. "You seem to forget our agreement."

"I forget naught," he said. "Is it not your primary concern to recover your memories?"

She had no recourse but to nod agreement, even though she knew it was a trap.

"I merely wish to rekindle some of those memories for your benefit," he said, confirming her suspicions.

Damn! The man knew how to turn her words around. She had no need for rekindling of any kind, especially of memories she'd rather never have with him.

Isabel's head began to pound. "You promised to respect my request and keep your distance for the required time," she insisted.

He sighed, clearly annoyed.

Her headache intensified into a throbbing. Isabel winced and threaded her fingers through her hai
r
—
a
now quite common action on her part, she realized. She pressed her palms against her temples, willing the pain to go away.

"What ails you?" He reached her in two large strides.

"My head is loudly complaining from when I hit the floor this morning."

"It is a malady from which you often suffer," Hunter revealed, though he checked the small bump on her head for good measure.

"Indeed?" Did Détra suffer from migraines? Good God! One more reason to get out of this body as soon as possible.

Hunter took her a
r
m and led her to the chair by the fireplace and bathtub. Under the pressure of his hand, she lowered to the seat.

"Have you naught for your lady's aches?" he asked Maude.

Across the room, Maude busied herself pouring powder from two different jugs into a metal cup. She filled the cup with a honey-colored liquid, then brought it to Isabel.

"This potion usually helps your aching head," she said. "You drink it often."

Often? Détra's migraines must be really horrible!

Isabel hesitate
d
—
s
he truly didn't want to drink any unknown medieval concoctio
n
—
b
ut though unconvinced, she weighed the
ri
sk of declining a medicine D
é
tra must have relied upon before, and apparently with no qualms. She'd have a hard time blaming this behavior on amnesia. After all, who wanted to suffer pain willingly?

A sharp pain lanced Isabel's temples again, helping her decide whether to accept the potion or not. Détra
'
s body should be used to the treatment; at least she hoped so. Isabel would drink the potion.

But under no circumstance would she allow bloodletting!

Cup in hand, Isabel took a tentative si
p
—
t
hankful the initial bitterness soon disappeared. She knew so little of medicinal herbs she wouldn't in a million years recognize
what made up the concoction. She only hoped there would be no belladonna in it. Not that she would know the taste of it were there any in the potion she now drank. Under Hunter's watchful eyes
,
Isabel finished
the
d
ri
nk.

Holding the empty cup in her hands, an idea rushed to her mind. She inspected the very ordinary metal cup with feigned interest. "Odd," she whispered. "I seem to suddenly recall a rather unusual chalice."

"What kind of chalice?" Maude asked.

"A beautiful one with sapphire stone
s
—
q
uite unique, in fact. I cannot quite recall where I saw it, but its enchanting image just came back quite vividly to my mind a moment ago." She handed Maude the metal cup with a dismissive shrug.

"Wait," she said as if the memory had just popped in her mind. "I think I saw it on that table this morning. Have you seen it, Maude?"

Maude shook her head. "I have never seen such a chalice in Windermere."

Maude seemed sincere enough. "How about you, Hunter?" Isabel asked as innocently as she could.

Hunter's face remained impassive. "Are you beginning to remember, my
l
ady?"

Why was Hunter being evasive? What was he hiding? She'd seen him pick up the chalice from the table earlier and leave the room with it. He did it rather surreptitiously, but she saw him. Was she wrong in assuming he didn't know of the chalice's powers? Why would he want to keep it away from her?

"Is that not what we both want?" Isabel countered. "For me to remember?"

"Indeed. The sooner your memories return, the sooner we can resume our lives together."

There was no doubt in Isabel's mind what would happen if she started to
remember
too soon.

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," she said, feeling a little light-headed. Did Maude add a sleeping draught to the potion?

"I go nowhere, my lady w
i
fe
.
"

Hunter's words annoyed her. No matter what she said, he seemed to have a ready answer for her
.

"Surely you have places to go." She waved her hand in the air in a dismissing manner. "You must have more important matters to occupy your time than watching me recover from a headache." She winced for good measure, which didn't take much acting skill considering her head truly hurt.

"I see naught more important than caring for my lady wife," he said gallantly.

"I appreciate your willingness but I would like to bathe and then take a nap. I am quite tired."

Finally accepting she would not change her mind, Hunter agreed. "As you wish, my lady wife. Rest well. I look forward to spending time with you when you feel less taxed. Maude shall take care of your needs in my absence."

He kissed her softly then left the room, closing the door behind his back.

Barely containing a yawn, Isabel undressed quickly and immersed herself in the wonderfully warm water of the bathtub. Fighting the lethargy taking over her body, she allowed Maude to administer to her. She felt better after her bath; even her head didn't seem to hurt so much, though her energies were depleted. A nap should do wonders for her.

She dried herself with a huge square of cloth Maude gave her, then sank into the soft feather mattress. She knew she'd cornered herself inside this room while Hunter would be free to hide the chalice he obviously didn't want
his wife to have. Isabel hadn't missed he'd never answered her question about its whereabouts.

As oblivion shut out the world around her, Isabel's last conscious thought lingered on her mind.

What was Hunter of Windermere hiding from his wife?

******************

HUNTER OPENED THE DOOR
T
O WHAT ONCE WAS A storage place in the garrison's quarters but now was a small chamber to use in times his need for solitude assailed him. He lit the two oil lamps on the wall and the utter darkness gave way to flickering shadows. His gaze swept me small space with a grim pleasure.

The chamber's Spartan furnishing suited him well. Like him, it had no need for pretentious luxury. Rushes covered the hard dirt floor, but no tapestry adorned its wooden walls. No hearth to warm the chamber in winter, no windows to bring in light, no stately bed but a small campaign cot and a large trunk for storage of his war-waging apparatus.

Hunter snorted. That he felt more at home in this hovel than at the great hall of Windermere Castle was a telltale sign that his dream of hearth and home was still beyond his reach.

He looked at the chalice he had retrieved from the orchard. Its azure stones no longer glowed, no blue mists revealed visions of his heart wish, no warmth seeped into his fingers, no matter how hard he had tried to make it come to life again.

Hunter stared at it, willing it to show its powers. Naught again. Annoyed, Hunter buried it in the depths of his war trunk, as he should have done since his first arrival in Windermere.
I
t had been a mistake to have it in his bedchamber. And yet as the only item of value he ever
possessed, apart from his warhorse and sword, and the only tangible remembrance of his mother, Hunter had wanted it close to him.

Besides, had the chalice not been there in the first place, in his and Détra's presence, mayhap its powers would never have been revealed, considering they had never before.

A
n
d for that reason alone, Hunter must keep the chalice away from Détra. As she might have been the catalyst for the unleashing of the chalice's powers, he could not chance she could be also the destruction of his heart's desire. After all, she had vehemently rejected the vision, and, therefore, him.

Détra's sudden remembrance of the chalice unsettled Hunter. He thought he had removed it before she had had a chance to see it earlier this morning. Obviously he was wrong. Or was Détra beginning to remember? He had hoped her memories would not return so soon, at least not until they could reach an understanding. Was this a warning the chalice's power had a time limitation to it?

A new sense of urgency took hold of Hunter.

As with everything in his life a gift had turned into a quest. Would that the chalice had transformed Détra into the wife of his heart instead of granting him just a short reprieve. Would he be ab
l
e to win her heart in a short time?