Dragon's Knight, page 19
Jarrod had not thought to sleep when he had seated himself in the chair beside the fire. He had intended to do no more than rest his eyes, but when he opened them, morning light filtered through the shutters to lay across the stone floor.
Instantly he was on his feet and at the side of the bed. Aislynn was still where he had left her, so motionless and quiet. Too quiet.
Cautiously he moved forward, watching her for some sign of breathing. As he bent close, then closer still, she opened her eyes.
Joy soared in him as he met her confused blue gaze. “How are you…” She shifted slightly, grimacing, and he said, “Are you in pain? I will call the healer.”
Aislynn shook her head, reaching out to halt him with the hand on her uninjured side. “Nay, please do not trouble anyone further. I am only sore.” Her brow creased then. “Pray what occurred? Aida could tell me no more than that I had been shot by an arrow and that you had brought me to your brother’s keep.” She studied him closely. “Do you mind very much, having to bring me here, I mean?”
He shrugged. “Do not even think on it. Eustace has been more civil than I could have expected.”
She sighed. “So much must have happened for you to say such a thing. I wanted to stay awake to talk with you, but I think Aida must have given me something in the wine.”
Jarrod nodded. “She told me as much.”
Aislynn shook her head. “What did happen? I have no memory of it.”
He took a deep breath and told her all, leaving out nothing from the point when he had heard the rush of the arrow just missing him, until this very moment. He was careful to include the fact that they believed it had been Sir Fredrick. He told her all except for his revelation of his love for her. That he would keep close for the rest of his days, for he knew that she was bound to another, a man who could give her all she’d ever wanted.
She sighed, calling his attention back to the matter at hand. “Sir Fredrick must hate you very much.”
Jarrod’s jaw flexed, and he could hear the ring of rage in his voice as he said, “I do not believe it can compare to the hatred I feel for him. He could have killed you.”
“But he will continue to try to harm you,” she whispered, her blue eyes uncertain. She was so lovely in her concern, and so very precious to him, although he knew her care was no more than she would give to any other. Jarrod felt a sense of regret that was devastating, tightening his chest until he could barely breathe. He forced himself to turn away before he said something that he—they—would be sorry for.
The sound of the door opening drew his attention. Aida stepped into the room and, directly behind her, Eustace. The healer approached the bed with energetic steps in spite of the fact that she too had been up half of the night. Eustace came more slowly.
Aida’s voice and her observant green eyes were marked by an innate good cheer as she said, “Ah, awake, I see.”
Eustace came to a halt beside her, nodding to Aislynn. “I am Eustace Maxwell.”
Aislynn bowed her head. “I am Aislynn Greatham and I must thank you for taking me in. I must thank all three of you, for it is only due to your care that I am alive.”
Eustace shrugged. “Think nothing of it. I am happy to be of assistance.”
Before Jarrod could begin to speak past the tightness in his throat, Aida broke in, “Good enough then, if you, my lord Eustace, and Lord Jarrod will leave us, I’ll have another look at that shoulder.”
Jarrod had no choice but to bow and leave with his brother.
Eustace led him to the clean and well-appointed hall, seeing that the first of the morning meal was just being served. When they reached the high table, Eustace indicated the chair to his own right. “Please Jarrod, sit.”
Now that some of his anxiety for Aislynn had eased, Jarrod noted even more clearly how his brother had changed. His blond hair, the color of bright flax as a child, had darkened and thinned. And his body, though never as robust Jarrod’s, now appeared quite slight. Only those gray eyes, so like their father’s, were as steady and intelligent as they had ever been. Although now Jarrod did not see the same resentment that had marked their expression in the past.
Watching his brother closely, Jarrod took the spot he indicated. “Thank you.”
The younger man bowed graciously as he began to serve himself sparingly from the trays before them. “Your lovely young lady is doing very well.”
Jarrod grimaced as he realized that he seemed to explain this to everyone they met. It appeared that others had noted his love for her even before he had known of it. Yet he must try again, for Aislynn did not love him. “Aislynn is not my lady, as your tone would seem to imply. She is the sister of my friend and I am merely escorting her back to her family.” At this point in the journey, that much was true. He went on as his brother’s pale brows rose high over skeptical gray eyes. “The lady is to be married.”
The other man sat back. “I see.” He said no more on it, but his gaze remained thoughtful.
Recalling his agreement to relate what had occurred when Aislynn was better, Jarrod took a deep breath and as simply as he could, explained about Christian’s disappearance and their search for him. He ended with Aislynn’s becoming wounded. When Eustace only nodded his head, Jarrod added, “I imagine that you wonder why I would bring her here of all places, and after all these years.”
To Jarrod’s surprise, he said, “The reason you brought her seems clear, as well as the fact that you will need to remain for some days, at least. She was grievously injured and your care for her overrode your reluctance to come to Kewstoke. Thus I assume you will leave at first opportunity. But while you are here, let us not speak of things that you have no wish to reveal. Let us be as men who are meeting one another for the first time. You will be my guest, nothing more, nothing less.”
Jarrod did not understand why his brother was willing to make such a suggestion, but he felt only relief. He had no wish to rekindle pains that were better long dead. He nodded. “You would have a most grateful guest.”
Again Eustace bowed.
Although Jarrod went back to the sick chamber as soon as the meal had ended, he was found himself at loose ends. Aida told him that Aislynn had been given a sleeping potion and that, for the sake of making a speedy recovery, she would be kept in this state as much as possible for some days.
As Jarrod wished for Aislynn to make a complete and steady improvement, he made no demure. Although he did yearn in the deepest parts of himself to see her, to hold her, Jarrod knew that the best thing he could do for himself and Aislynn was to stay away. His conversation with his brother had reminded him of just how deeply he felt about her, of how visible his feelings might be to others.
It had not changed her feelings for him. She was determined to marry her Welsh nobleman and live the life she had planned for herself. Furthermore, as far as she knew, he wanted nothing more from her than that which he had already had. Jarrod did not want that to change. He would not have Aislynn know he loved her.
Thus he found himself in the company of his brother.
And so it went over the course of the next days. They talked and, during their discourse, details about their lives were revealed. Yet it was as Eustace had said—they were two strangers coming to know one another.
And as the next three days passed, Jarrod began to realize something he had not expected. He found himself actually looking forward to their talks, the meals they shared in the hall where he had felt so much an outsider as a boy. Although he had not traveled anywhere outside these walls, Eustace had access to the very fine library of the monastery nearby and had read nearly every written work they possessed. He could speak at length on all subjects, be it geography or the influence of the church in the East.
Something else Jarrod began to notice, as the days passed, was the fact that Eustace did not ride nor even walk very far, and he often went to his chambers in order to study, where Aida was wont to join him for long periods of time. Yet Jarrod was reluctant to question him on this as he felt it would be a violation of the pact they had made to know each other as men. Thus he said nothing. He told himself that if there was one thing he was expert at, it was keeping to himself.
For if he could resist speaking of his love for Aislynn, which was stronger and more consuming than any thought or feeling he had ever known, he could remain silent on any matter.
Chapter Thirteen
Aislynn woke to the sounds of commotion. Stretching her arms above her head without thinking, she quickly drew them down when she felt the stiffness in her right shoulder. But she was not completely disturbed by it, for the pain was not as great as it had been.
She wondered at the loud voices in the hall outside her chamber and the fact that they appeared to be getting closer by the moment. Unlike previous mornings, the healing woman had not yet arrived to give her another of her potions. Aislynn was not sorry, for she would not find it amiss to get up and see what had occurred in her time here.
Only a moment later the door of her chamber flew open wide and into the opening stepped her father. Aislynn could not have been more surprised were it King John himself. But her shock was soon forgotten as she threw back the covers with her uninjured arm and rose up beside the bed with a cry of happiness “Father!”
A wave of dizziness took her, and she swayed. But she had no time to reach out for support as she was enveloped in her father’s arms.
“Aislynn, my dear girl. My heart.”
A tightness rose in her throat and she returned his embrace to the best of her ability, before pushing back. “Father, why have you come? You should not have left Bransbury.”
He pressed her back to his chest. “I could think of nothing save making certain that you were well.” He held her away from him, his gaze raking her from head to foot. “You are recovering?”
She laughed, though there was a sheen of tears in her eyes as she felt the wonder of realizing that her father had come to her. “I am quite well. They have coddled me like a babe and I have not left this room in all the days I have been here, having slept through most of them, though I am weary enough with that.”
As he pulled her close again, Aislynn became aware of the fact that several others had appeared in the doorway.
Yet she knew that only one had the power to draw her attention from her father. Jarrod, whom she had hardly seen in all the time she had been here. Not that she had spent a great deal of time pining for him, but those few short moments when she had first wakened to find him beside her, his face gentle with concern, had left her yearning for him.
Now as their eyes met for the briefest moment, Aislynn realized that nothing, not potions, not separation, not even the fact that he did not want her, would ever dampen her awareness, her desire for him. It flared up instantaneously without fuel or encouragement of any kind.
Aislynn dragged her gaze away, not wanting Jarrod to see what she feared she could not hide. She was saved from having to try by the arrival of the healing woman.
Aida sailed through those who had gathered in the doorway like a ship under full mast. Even Jarrod stepped back with alacrity as she said, “You will all leave now. The lady must not become overtaxed.”
Aislynn frowned at her, not letting go of her father, “But I would speak with my father. He has come a very long way to see me.”
Aida shook her head. “This is your first time out of yon bed in days. It is time for your rising, but nothing must be done to excess lest you become overtaxed. You lost much blood.”
Aislynn could not deny that she did feel a great weakness in her limbs even after this short time of standing. Her father looked down at her, seeing the truth in her eyes. Quickly he scooped her up in his arms. “The lady is right. You must rest. I will attend you later.”
“But I want…”
Aida spoke gently, seeming to understand Aislynn’s desire to be with her father. “After you have rested for a bit. The first time out of bed is the most difficult. Your strength will return apace, if you heed my advice.”
Aislynn found herself deposited in bed once more. And though she was more than reluctant to see him go, her father shook his head firmly. “I will return.”
Aislynn had no choice but to let him go. And as she did so, her wayward heart told her that Jarrod Maxwell was also gone, for she could no longer feel the pull of his presence.
And then something even more painful than his absence came into her mind. Now that her father was here, Jarrod was free, free of his obligation to look after her, free of her.
Though Aislynn was forced to acquiesce to the healer’s wishes, it was not so very much later that she insisted on having her father brought back to her. Now that she had had time to think, she was beset with questions about what he was doing here and how he could possibly have left his responsibilities at Bransbury.
Feeling much stronger than she had when he’d first burst in upon her, Aislynn was sitting in a comfortable chair before the fire when her father entered the chamber. He came to her, enveloping her in his arms as he had that morning. And this time, whether it was due to her quickly returning strength or because she was no longer stunned by her surprise at seeing him, Aislynn was aware of a strange anxious quality to his embrace.
Pulling away from him, she looked into her father’s blue eyes. When he failed to meet her gaze, she was more certain. “Something is amiss.”
He attempted to smile. “Nay, daughter, all is well.”
She shook her head. “Do not try to prevaricate, Father. I know you too well. There is something.”
He took a deep breath. “Aye, there is. But I had thought to wait until—”
“’Tis not Christian!”
He shook her head quickly. “Nay, not your brother. I have heard no word of him other than what Jarrod and Sir Ulrick have told me. It is…” He took another deep breath before going on. “It is Gwyn.”
“Has something happened to Gwyn?”
His brows came together over his autocratic nose. “Nay, Aislynn, but I would as lief it had when I learned what he had done.”
She threw up her hands. “You speak in riddles. I understand naught of what you are saying.”
Her father sat heavily on the bench across from her. “Aislynn, Gwyn has married his cousin Leri. It seems he is the father of her unborn child.”
Aislynn sat immobile for a very long moment. “Married! How can this…?” And then she remembered the things Gwyn had said to her that day—it seemed so very long ago, almost like another life—at Bransbury. He had been trying to tell her then. But she had had little thought for anything beyond Jarrod Maxwell, as she had had little thought for anything but him from the moment they’d met.
Then, as the numbness of surprise passed, she realized that far from being hurt or angry, she felt nothing but relief. Even if she had felt something besides friendship for Gwyn, she would not have been able to blame him for what he had done with Leri. She had always known he loved Leri. Clearly that love had gone deeper than she knew.
And love was not something that one could easily deny. Had she not given herself to Jarrod without thought to the consequences?
And as this went through her mind, Aislynn suddenly knew with a certainty which could not be denied that she loved Jarrod Maxwell. Loved him with all her heart and soul, had loved him from the first moment of laying eyes upon him. She also knew that she would love him all the days of her life.
That he did not love her seemed to have no bearing at all upon her own feelings. And this knowledge gave rise to a sense of helplessness that left her reeling.
Obviously seeing the shock and sorrow in her face, her father said, “Aislynn, I am so very sorry. He is a blackguard for hurting you.”
She looked at him, calling upon all her will to hide her anguish as she said, “Do not feel pity for me, Father. I have never loved Gwyn that way. I simply am worried now that you will have no allies in Wales.”
Her father’s brow wrinkled in remembered amazement as he said, “Have no concern for that, for Gwyn has done one thing I thought impossible. He has managed to convince Llewellyn to treat with me.”
This news pushed Aislynn’s misery to the back of her mind for the moment. “But how?”
“I know not. I know only that he has. Perhaps it is guilt over knowing Gwyn has broken his promise to you in order to prevent his grandchild from being labeled bastard. Whatever it might be, he has called his folk to cease their attacks upon, not only us, but others in the area.”
Aislynn sighed. “How wonderful, Father. And how greatly it will change our lives.”
He closed his eyes. “Aye. Although I would have come here to see that you were well with my own eyes no matter what the cost, I have far less fear that there will be all-out war upon my return.”
She looked at him with concern. “We may go immediately. I would not keep you away from your duties.”
Her father shook his head, patting her hand with his large, warm one. “We will return, but not before you are well enough to travel.” His lips thinned. “Now that we know Christian is well we can return home and wait for him, though it is my intent to make known my unhappiness over all the worry he has caused us. I am sorry to have sent you off on such a journey with no need. My dream…I do not understand what it could have been about.”
Aislynn hurriedly told her father everything they had discovered about Christian’s movements, including the fact that the woman who had healed him had been lovely indeed and that they did have a drawing of her.
In the end it was still very little. She would not have been able to answer any questions her father might have had even if Aida had not come in to insist that she must rest now.
Once back in bed, Aislynn was not unwilling to consume the sleeping posset the healing woman gave her. She only hoped that it might, for a time, ease the pain of knowing that she would likely be well enough to leave soon and that meant she would soon see Jarrod for the last time.
