He’d been watching the lady sleep.
Hallam was quiet when he entered the chamber, but he held up the blanket and hammer that Caius had requested for the shutters. The winds were still howling and the shutters were still flexing, so with the greatest stealth, Caius and Hallam proceeded to cover the shutters with the blanket and nail them right into the wood to keep them secure, all the while believing the very next hammer blow would awaken the exhausted lady.
But Emelisse slept right through it all.
She slept all night as her jailers made her more comfortable.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Her head waskilling her.
Emelisse awoke the next morning to a pounding inside her skull, knowing immediately that it was because she’d had too much to drink. She didn’t usually drink wine at all if she could help it, or if she did, she ingested very little of it because it made her head hurt. Her preferred drink was boiled apple juice or boiled water flavored with berries or even rose petals.
Wine simply didn’t sit well with her.
But the knight with the black eyes had forced it down her throat. She’d ingested a good deal, plus more besides when she ate her meal. Truth be told, yesterday had passed in a blur– a blur of horror, of pain, of upheaval. But one thing had remained constant.
Sir Caius d’Avignon.
She’d fought him, bellowed at him, told him she hated him, and tried to hurt him. She’d been all shades of terrible to him. But he’d been calm and rational, and even soothing at times. Through all of her panic and wild behavior, she realized that the man was trying to help her. After all of the terrible things she’d done, he was the last thing she saw before she drifted off to sleep.
It was unimaginable comfort.
But he was gone now and she was alone. Rolling over, she groaned as she sat up, looking around the chamber and seeing that someone had already been there to stoke the fire and bring her a meal. The little room was surprisingly warm and she noticed the woolen blankets hammered over the shutters of the windows. She stared at them, trying to remember when those were put up. She honestly couldn’t recall.
Through the cobwebs of sleep, the blur of events the day before began to fall into place. Her first thought was of her father and tears sprang to her eyes at the last memory she had of him. She fought the tears, however, and the sadness. There would be time to grieve her father, but now was not the time. She was in a bind of her own and she knew her father would want her to think of herself, to take care of herself. She hadn’t done a very good job of it yesterday, unfortunately.
But she wasn’t alone.
Thoughts of Caius swung back on her, stronger than before. He wasn’t the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, but he had a certain quality that made all women sit up and take notice. Something that made him so unconventionally alluring. His coloring was striking; black hair and eyes, but a pale English complexion underneath the stubble of a black beard. And he was big; enormously big and taller than any man she’d ever seen. The man was a giant. He’d spoken to her calmly, he’d been honest and forthright with her, and she’d acted like a madwoman. When he’d told her about Marius, she’d tried to kill herself.
In hindsight, it had been foolish.
Oh, she’d meant it at the time. She was fully prepared to throw herself from the window, out into the snowy night, and hoped she broke her neck in the fall. The day had taken its toll on her in that sense.
But now… now, with her senses returned, she was glad Caius had stopped her. He’d used that enormous strength and he’d prevented her from harming herself. And how did she thank him? She bit him. Emelisse was embarrassed by that, and by her behavior in general.
Nay… yesterday hadn’t been a good day at all, but the only good thing about it had been Caius d’Avignon.
He had remained the constant.
A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts. Before she could stand up and answer it, the door opened and Lady de Wrenville entered with one of her maids. The woman was clad in yet another glorious creation of silk and damask, with an elaborateescoffionon her head– a two horned wimple with pearls sewn into it and gossamer veils made of a see-through fabric called albatross. Noble women of fine breeding wore them and Lady de Wrenville’s was exquisite.
“Ah,” she said with a smile on her face. “I see that you have awakened, my lady. How do you feel this morning?”
Emelisse rubbed her temples. “My head aches a bit.”
That did nothing to dampen Lady de Wrenville’s smile. “Not to worry,” she said. “Come and eat. I shall have my maid fetch a potion of willow bark, which will ease your aching head. Come along, now.”
Both she and the maid reached down to pull Emelisse off the bed. They led her over to a chair and revealed the morning feast; fresh bread, cheese, fruit compote, and cold beef. There was also a small pitcher of warmed wine, now barely warm, and Emelisse immediately pushed it aside.
“My lady, would it be too much trouble to ask for boiled fruit juice?” she asked. “Wine is why my head aches so. I have never gotten on well with it.”
Lady de Wrenville quickly waved the pitcher away and the maid ran off with it. As Emelisse forced a grateful smile andturned to the food spread out before her, Lady de Wrenville took a seat on the opposite side of the little table. Emelisse picked up the bread and smeared it with butter and the fruit, gingerly taking a bite. It was difficult to be enthusiastic about eating when her head was hurting so much.
“I am having warm water and clean clothing brought to you,” Lady de Wrenville said. “Is there anything else you require to make your stay more comfortable?”
Emelisse chewed her bread slowly. “You have been more than kind, my lady,” she said. She eyed the woman hesitantly. “Given that I have behaved like a wild animal, I would like to thank you for your treatment. You have been good to me and, as it was pointed out to me last night, I have responded abominably. Please forgive me.”
