The soldiers did not obey her orders. ‘My lady, we were given the command that Lord Pevensham should not be disturbed.’
Rosamund’s expression grew strained. ‘My husband is alive, and so am I. You obey orders from us, not from any other man.’ Her tone was firm and icy. ‘Now let me pass.’ She stepped between them and Warrick pushed their spears aside.
Inside, Alan was lying upon the bed, coughing. His shoulders shook with exertion, and Rosamund fetched a cup of wine. ‘My lord, drink this. It may help.’ She tilted the goblet and held it to his lips.
Warrick hung back, studying the room. Upon a low table rested the contents of Alan’s meal. The bread and cheese didn’t surprise him, but when he drew closer, he saw that there was a fine grain sprinkled over the plate. It appeared to be a powder of some kind, though he could not say what it was. While Rosamund tended to her husband, Warrick touched a damp fingertip to the granules and tasted them. The bitterness was faint, and his suspicions darkened as he poured wine into a glass. He rinsed his mouth and spat it out.
He wouldn’t put it past Owen to attempt poison. Perhaps one of the soldiers had put it there. And more and more, he was convinced that Owen would accuse anyone of Alan’s death, including Rosamund. While she had done everything to extend her husband’s life, she was not safe here any longer.
When Alan had fallen back asleep, Warrick beckoned for Rosamund to come closer. ‘For the next few weeks, watch his food and drink. Be certain that he eats only what you have prepared for him.’
She paled. ‘You think someone is poisoning him, then.’
‘Possibly. Or trying to hasten his death.’ There was no way to know for certain. Then he said quietly, ‘Rosamund, it is not safe for you here. Owen will find a way to harm you.’
‘Don’t ask me to leave my husband when he is dying. Alan needs me.’
He understood her wishes, but this was about her protection, not her husband’s. ‘I fear for your safety.’ He took her hand in his, gripping her palm. ‘Rosamund, Owen has threatened to hurt you and any unborn child you might bear.’
‘I will not run away like a frightened deer,’ she argued back. ‘I am lady of this castle, and I see no reason to leave my home.’
Her voice had grown louder, and Alan stirred. The man shifted against his bed, and in a weak voice, he added, ‘I may be weak, but I have not lost my hearing.’
Rosamund stood and returned to his bedside. Warrick remained back, keeping his distance. ‘Do you need anything, my lord?’
‘Is it true what he says, that Owen is threatening you?’
‘Not directly, no.’
‘He threatened to ensure that she never bore any child,’ Warrick interrupted. ‘And he is giving orders to your men, trying to undermine her.’
Alan’s fists gripped the sheets. ‘Then you are right. Rosamund must leave Pevensham, in order to keep her and the child safe.’
‘And how will that look to our people?’ Rosamund demanded. ‘If I go with Warrick, they will believe that I have abandoned you.’
‘He will not go with you. Instead, he will remain here, as one of my guards.’
Warrick detected a faint note of disapproval in Alan’s tone. But he couldn’t imagine leaving Rosamund among other soldiers who might be loyal to Owen. He far preferred to protect her himself.
Alan reached out his hand, and she took it. ‘Once we believe you are with child, I will send you to Ireland. You will remain there until the child is born. I will ensure that your son’s inheritance is protected.’
Dismay creased Rosamund’s face. ‘You ask me to leave whilst you are dying. It’s not right.’
Alan brought her hand to his lips. ‘I have ordered Father Francis to write down my orders upon my death. All will believe that this child is legitimate, and you will be safe.’
Rosamund looked as if she wanted to protest but held her tongue instead. But her husband did not miss her reluctance.
‘If you hold any affection towards me at all, then you will wed Warrick, as I have commanded. It is best for you, and you know this.’ Alan studied her a moment, then said, ‘Tonight, you must lie with him again and conceive. There can be no further delay.’
She said nothing, and guilt was written upon her face. Warrick came forward and added, ‘And then you must send her away where she will be safe.’ His expression hardened into stone. ‘I will wait a day or two and then follow her. I do not trust your men.’
Alan met his gaze and then inclined his head in silent agreement. He studied his wife, and in his eyes, Warrick saw the rigid jealousy.
He could not have done the same, were he in Alan’s place. Heir or not, he would flay any man alive who dared to touch Rosamund.
It was dangerous to think of her in this way. The years were falling away, and it was as if Fate had given him a second chance with this woman. He knew her all too well, and he craved the joining she was avoiding.
‘I can feel my strength waning,’ Alan said. ‘I know not how much time God will grant me, but Iwillhave an heir.’
