Leila's gaze swept the room with itstapestriedwalls and spare yet luxurious furnishings. It,too, was wholly unfamiliar. She had no idea where she was, nor could sheremember
"Someone drugged me she suddenly recalled in ahoarse whisper, her head aching at the effort. She had gone to her mother'sapartments . . . Both Eve andMajidahad acted sostrangely. Then she had heard footsteps and that awful sponge had covered hermouth, reeking of opium and henbane. No wonder she felt so sick.
Leila looked down and noted she was still wearing thesame lavender silk clothes, though her linen robe wasmissingand her hair was upbraided. She also noticed for the first time the raised bedon which she was lying, the soft mattress set atop a square wooden frame withstout corner posts, and the crimson coverlet pulled up to her waist. Shetouched the cool satin, her eyes darting to the side of the bed and thedisgusting puddle on the carpeted floor.
Relief filled her, mixed with chagrin at herfoolishness. It was the red coverlet she had seen, not her own blood. Sheslumped back upon the propped pillows behind her and wiped the silly tears fromher face with the white linen sheet.
The woman also looked down at the carpet, frowning. Sheclapped her hands, and a young slave girl appeared in the room, her dark ovaleyes wide and curious as she studied Leila.
"Please clean up this mess,Hayat,and stop your staring."
The slave girl bobbed her head and disappeared,returning in a moment with a basin filled with water and linen rags. Leilawatched silently as the woman walked with sensuous grace to the other side ofthe bed and sat down while the slave girl knelt on the floor and began to scrubthe soiled carpet.
"My name isRefaiyeh,"the woman said, her friendly smile revealing even, white teeth.
Refaiyeh. Leila could swearshe had heard that name before, but where? Her mind was still so fuzzy.
"Where am I?" she demanded shakily, trying tosit up. Another wave of queasiness forced her back upon the pillows, and shecrossed her arms over her stomach. "I don't know you . . . whyamI here?"
Refaiyehdid not readilyanswer, busying herself instead with pouring a goblet of water from a tall,crystal pitcher. She offered it to Leila, her expression kind. "Drinkthis. It will make you feel better. Whatever Guy drugged you with must havebeen very powerful. You've been asleep for almost two days counting yourjourney from Damascus."
"What are you saying?" Leila blurted, pushingthe goblet away so roughly that water spilled onto the coverlet. Her mind spunas she stared at the spreading stain, an unsettling thought niggling at her.Had the woman said "Guy"?
Refaiyehshrugged her slendershoulders and set the goblet on the inlaid copper table by the bed. "You'reoverwrought, Leila, which is understandable after what you've suffered—"
"How do you know my name?" Leila criedsharply, growing more alarmed. "I demand that you tell me what is goingon!"
Clearly stunned by her outburst,Refaiyehseemed at a loss to answer her. Her silver bracelets jangled as she twisted herhands in her lap. "You're safe, Leila, and in Acre—"
"So she's awake at last," a deep male voicesaid from the open doorway. Both women started in surprise. "Thank you forwatching her,Refaiyeh. I'm sorry I was gone so long.The markets were crowded this afternoon."
"Lord deWarenne!"Leila gasped, the room snapping into sharp focus. She felt the blood drain fromher face, her rampant heartbeat like thunder in her ears. What strange trickwas this?
Her eyes darted over him, from the rugged contours ofhis clean-shaven face to his foreign clothing, a white calf-length garment emblazonedwith a large red cross over a black long-sleeved tunic, hose, and black leatherboots. Gone was the bearded and bare-chested prisoner dressed only insirwal, and gone was the wild fury and desperation she hadlast seen in his eyes. This man exuded authority and confidence . . . and hewas smiling at her!
Refaiyehrose from the bed,sighing with relief. "Leila is upset, Guy," she said in heavilyaccented English, moving toward him and placing her hand with familiarity onhis forearm. She shook her head in confusion. "If not from what you hadtold me, I would swear she has absolutely no inkling of why she's here."
"The drugs,Refaiyeh,"Guy said, looking at Leila's wide-eyed, stricken expression. "She'll befine. Perhaps you might prepare a light meal for her."
"Of course."Refaiyehturned to the slave girl, who had stopped scrubbing the carpet and was watchingeverything with rapt interest. "Come,Hayat."
The girl jumped to her feet and ran after her mistress,and Guy closed the door behind them. He strode across the sunlit room andstopped beside the bed, enchanted by the lovely sight Leila made with her blackhair streaming around her in a silky cascade. He still could not get over theincredible length of her hair.
His dreams last night had been filled with eroticvisions of Leila's lithe body wrapped in her ebony tresses. Looking at herpale, exquisite beauty now, he felt a familiar heat rising in his loins, but hequickly steeled himself against it. Such feelings were unseemly for a guardianknight, and Leila was an innocent virgin, doubly worth his protection.
SweetJesu, the weeks aheadwould be hell, Guy thought honestly, staring at her parted lips.
It was a good thing he hadRefaiyehto ease the lust which had built inside him over the past weeks or he wouldhave an even more difficult time once he and Leila left Acre.
"I'm glad to see you are awake," Guy saidgently, noting the two spots of high color on her cheeks. "For a while Ithought I might have to call a physician. I believe I poured too much of thatfoul-smelling liquid on the sponge."
"That was you?" Leila blurted incredulously. "Inmy mother's apartments?" She tensed when he nodded, a hundred questionsflooding her mind, along with a glaring realization. "You escaped from thegovernor's prison. How?"
"You don't want to hear about it," Guy said,his expression becoming grim. "I knew something had gone wrong the momentyour father mentioned England, but I didn't have a chance until—"
"My—my father?" Leila cut him off, stunned.She felt her face grow hot, not believing what he had just said. "How doyou know this?"
"I know a great deal about you, Leila. I know youare not a slave, although you are Christian. And I know you were soon to marryan infidel, which your mother told me was causing you great unhappiness."The hardlinesin his face eased, and his voice tookon a husky, intense quality. "You no longer have to fear, my lady. Thatblasphemous wedding will never take place. Tomorrow a ship will take us toFrance, and then we'll journey from there to England. Once you are in yourbrother's care, he will no doubt arrange a pleasing marriage for you."
