She didn’t know who was more relieved when she took the last stitch and put the needle aside. After wiping her hands on a scrap of cloth, she sat down in the chair beside the bed and blew out a sigh of relief.
Reyes looked at her, one brow arched. “Want to change places?” he asked with a wry grin.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Tis not so easy, putting a needle to a man’s flesh.”
“Tis not so easy to be the man whose flesh you are sticking, either.”
She laid her hand on his brow. “We need to bring your fever down.”
He nodded.
“Perhaps I should call your steward…”
“No.”
She glanced at the blanket where it covered his hips. “Are you…?”
In spite of the pain of his wounds and the fever burning through him, he grinned roguishly. “As the day my mother bore me.”
With a nod, she carefully folded the blanket down to his waist, then folded the other end up to mid-thigh. She felt herself blushing under his regard.
She found a length of cloth, poured water from the pitcher into a basin and began to draw the cool cloth over his heatedflesh. The task should not have caused her any embarrassment. He was sick and she was caring for him. It was no more than that, and yet it was much more than that. She was acutely aware of his every breath, of the way his eyes followed her every movement. She couldn’t help but admire the spread of his shoulders, his flat belly ridged with muscle no doubt earned from long hours of battle practice. His arms were well-muscled from years of wielding a heavy sword, his legs from years of hard riding. When she ran the cloth over his neck, his hair brushed against her hand. It was softer than she had thought it would be.
She wet the cloth again and again, drawing it over his chest and belly, down his arms and legs. She wiped the sweat from his face, offered him another drink of cool water.
The room gradually grew darker, making her acutely aware of time passing. She lit the candles on the mantel, added wood to the fire. She glanced at the window, her heart pounding.
A startled cry erupted from her throat when Reyes laid his hand on hers. “I need to go outside.”
“What foolishness is this? You’ve a fever.”
His gaze captured hers. “I cannot stay inside any longer. I need your help.”
“Wh…what do you want me to do?”
“Help me down the stairs. Later tonight, when the servants have gone to bed, I want you to leave my robe by the back door. Will you do that for me?”
She nodded, wondering at her willingness to help him. She turned her back when he started to sit up, listened to the sound of his body sliding over the bedding, the soft thud of his feet on the floor, the whisper of the blanket as he wrapped it around his hips.
She wondered how he had kept his secret so long and then realized that it would be an easy thing for the lord to leave the keep whenever he wished. He didn’t have to answer to anyoneor explain where he might be going in the middle of the night should someone see him. Most likely, anyone seeing him would assume he had a midnight tryst.
She turned when he took her hand. “Let’s go.”
With her arm around his waist, they made their way down the steps, through the keep, to the back door located in the kitchen. He opened the door, then paused to look back at her.
“Be careful,” Shanara said.
“Do not run away again,” he warned. “‘Tis not safe beyond the walls. Promise me you will be here when I return.”
She glanced past Reyes to the yard beyond, her need to go home burning within her, though she couldn’t say why. There was nothing for her there, no one who wanted her. No one who needed her.
Reyes took hold of her arm. “Promise me!” he said again, his voice almost a growl.
She looked up at him. The change was almost upon him. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the air around them. “I promise.”
As soon as the words were spoken, he was moving away from her, loping toward the shadows beneath the trees.
She watched until he was out of sight, wondering what had prompted her to promise him that she would be there when he returned. She owed him nothing. He was the enemy. Lying to the enemy was not the same as lying to a friend. She glanced at the wall in the distance. Freedom was just a short distance away. There, behind one of the shrubs, she had found a hole in the wall just big enough for her to squeeze through.
