The monk found his voice, and for some reason, his courage. He tagged after them. “Where are you taking her?”
“Home,” Gaston ducked a hand that came at his face. “To Rosehill.”
“You… you will not punish her, will you?”
Gaston merely cocked an eyebrow at the monk, as if the man were insane. It was enough to stop the monk in his tracks, watching as the massive knight took the struggling lady from the church. He was going to follow but thought better of it. His guilt began to grow; as a man of God, he should have stopped this. But as a mortal man, he valued his life more and had no wish to tangle with the enormous warrior. He let them go.
A few men, including Patrick de Russe, were waiting outside when Gaston burst through the door with the lady in his arms. Patrick’s eyes bugged out at the sight of Lady Wellesbourne.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed, leaping off his steed to assist his cousin. “You found her!”
“Aye, I found her,” Gaston grunted as she pushed against his neck. “She’s ill and requires a physic. Ride for Rosehill and make sure one is waiting for us. And for God’s Sake, send someone to bring Matthew back. Tell him we have his wife.”
Patrick snapped orders to the nearest soldier, who went on the run. He carefully took the squirming lady from Gaston so that Gaston could mount his charger. Lady Wellesbourne smacked him a few times, too, for good measure. She had nearly gouged his eyes out by the time he handed her back up to Gaston.
“She’s on fire, Gaston,” he said quietly. “I could feel her heat against me, even through this mail.”
Gaston’s expression was grim. “I know.”
He gathered his reins and tore off without another word. Patrick leapt onto his destrier and the entire party followed The Dark Knight at a raging pace.
*
She never didtell him why she could not go home. All Gaston could get out of her was crying and coughing, and finally silence. She slept against him heavily, like a boneless body, which made it tricky when he dismounted his charger with her in his arms once he reached Rosehill. She was dead weight and he was very careful not to drop her.
Having been notified by an advance soldier from Gaston’s party, Caroline and Lady Livia met them at the door, screeching over Alixandrea’s condition. The entire house and hold was in anuproar as Livia directed Gaston to take her upstairs to the first bedroom on the right. Even as he mounted the stairs, servants raced around him, carrying all manner of healing medicaments and other implements. By the time he reached the bedroom with the massive carved bed, it was full of people. It looked like a convention.
Gaston exploded. “Everyoneout,” he bellowed. “Only the physic and Lady Caroline will remain. The rest of you; be gone!”
Orders from The Dark Knight were not meant to be disobeyed. Aunt Livia tittered like a hysterical bird as her ladies escorted her from the room. Caroline stood on the opposite side of the bed with the same physic that had tended Adam after his accident. She was surprisingly composed. Gaston approached the bed and gently lay Alixandrea upon the goose-stuffed mattress. She was incoherent as Caroline began to gently remove the dirty blanket that covered her.
“Where did you find her, my lord?” she asked as she peeled back the cloth.
Gaston stood back as the physic went to work on her. “At a church in Oakley.”
Caroline slipped the blanket off as the physic held the patient up off the bed. “What in God’s name was she doing there?” she asked, baffled. “What happened?”
Gaston went to stand at the end of the bed. “I do not know, my lady. She has been confused since I found her.” He watched them toss aside the blanket and fumble with the coarse monk’s robe she wore. “I will be waiting outside, Lady Caroline. I would speak with you when you have Lady Wellesbourne settled.”
He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. A quick perusal showed a corridor crowded with people. Aunt Livia was seated upon a small silken chair with one of her ladies fanning her face.
“Gaston,” she gasped. “Where did you find her? Do you know that Matthew has been in a panic?”
“I do indeed, Lady St. James,” he said. “I found her in a church in Oakley, a few miles from here. I do not know how she came to the place. The lady is quite incoherent, as you saw. I could not get an explanation out of her.”
“She’s going to die,” Livia suddenly began bawling into her fine silk kerchief. “She’s going to die and Matthew will have no heirs! Oh, the pity!”
Gaston had known Lady Livia for many years. She had always been the supreme example of over dramatics, but they tolerated her because she had a kind and generous heart. Matthew thought a good deal of her; therefore, so did Gaston. But her hysterics were trying his patience.
“She is not going to die,” he said steadily. “She should be well in a day or two.”
The door from the chamber suddenly flew open and Caroline stood in the opening. She began snapping orders at the servants hovering about.
“Bring me cold water and rags, and plenty of both,” she said. “We must bring her fever down. And bring me fresh clothing for the lady.”
Gaston had never heard Caroline speak in such a manner. She was usually a quiet, meek lady because that was what her husband liked. The lady before him was taking charge and he liked the change.
“A word, Caroline,” he said quietly.
