"And the village?"
"Four houses were torched, but no one was killed.The bastards tied up the peasants and got away with horses and livestock. Notmuch else. It couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen men, perhaps arenegade band that broke off from the bulk of the rebels harassing the Marcherlords to the north." Guy's voice became tinged with impatience, and hegently squeezed Leila's hand. "We can discuss this later, Philip. Has mywife seen the last storehouse yet?"
"No." Philip looked confused. "I hadn'tplanned to show her that one. There's nothing in it, remember? Before you leftthis morning you ordered that it be emptied and swept clean, and so it has beendone. Have you decided upon its use?"
"A week ago, on my wedding day," Guy saidmysteriously. He glanced at Leila, a sly twinkle in his eye. "I have asurprise for you, my love. Come." Looping his arm around her waist, hecalled out to his half brother as he guided her through the door, "I'dlike you to accompany us, Philip. As steward of my estate, you need to knowwhat I have planned. There will be someexpendituresinvolved."
Wondering crazily what Guy was up to, Leila blinked atthe bright sunshine, for the interior of the storehouse had been very dark. Shepractically had to run as he hurried her past four similar buildings, onlyslowing when they reached a smaller storehouse set off byitself.She saw over her shoulder that Philip was not far behind them, his expressiongrave.
"We kept saddles and harnesses in here until thismorning," Guy explained as he pushed open the door, "so it willprobably smell like leather and horses for a while." Once inside, hereleased Leila and hastily pushed open the wooden shutters on both sides of theroom, flooding the empty interior with fresh air and sunlight.
"What is all this about?" Philip askeddoubtfully, standing on the threshold.
Guy took Leila's hands and drew her into the middle ofthe room. "A gift for my beautiful, beloved wife," he answered,gazing into her eyes. "It doesn't look like much now, but it will soon.Leila, what do you think of your new hospital?"
She was dumbstruck, her heart thumping wildly. Had sheheard him right or was he merely toying with her? No, she could tell from hisexpression that he meant exactly what he had said.
"Hospital?" she finally managed, tearsdimming her vision. They began to spill down her cheeks when Guy nodded firmly.
"Most married women of rank are content to overseetheir husband's household as they've been taught to do since childhood, but Iknow that would never make you happy. And I want you to be happy, Leila,"he said fervently, his touch gentle as he cradled her face and wiped away hertears. "I want you to see that your dream can be fulfilled here atWarenneCastle. With me."
Incredibly moved, Leila lowered her wet lashes, afraidof what he would see in her eyes.
She had never known a moment of such weakness. She wasso ready to surrender to him, to admit the love she held imprisoned in herheart . . . but something would not let her. Fear, obstinacy? Some lingeringresentment against him for altering her life so drastically? She could not say.
Perhaps she had told herself so many times since theday of the tournament that their love could never be that she had actually cometo believe it. They were from two different worlds. How could they possiblyfind happiness together? Kismet should never, never have thrown them into eachother's arms!
"The afternoon we married," Guy was saying, "Isent some of my men to scour the markets in London for rare herbs and spices,evencauteryirons and other surgical tools. If needbe, I'll send them back for whatever else you might require," hecontinued, unaware of the furious turmoil raging inside her. "And if thereare any special medicines you want, I plan to send messengers twice a year toMarseilles to meet the trading ships from the Holy Land. Tomorrow you'll findtwenty beds in this room, and I've already picked three able servants to helpyou. I don't want you working yourself too hard, my love. And Philip will bethere to help you, too" —he glanced up at his half brother— "won'tyou?"
"Never!"
Guy stiffened and his hands slid from her face. As hemoved slightly away from her, she did not turn around. She did not need to seePhilip to know how incensed he was. She had heard it in his voice.
"Tell me I misunderstood you, my brother."
"No. You heard me well. I cannot and will notcondone this . . . this hospital" —Philip spat— "either as a healeror as a priest. It is blasphemy!"
Guy's reply was slow in coming, as if he could not believewhat his brother had just said. Finally he replied, "I have always valuedand trusted your counsel, but in this matter you have overstepped yourself.Explain your charge, and quickly."
"So I will, for I can no longer remain silent!"Philip blurted. "Christian or no, this wife you have brought among us is aheretic! Her beliefs are not ours! She grew up among infidels, and fromeverything I have been told about her, she has clearly been influenced by theirevil ways. Yet I might have been able to forgive all of this if she renouncedher heathen past and her profession, and became a proper mistress to thishousehold. The preposterous idea you now propose has made that impossible!"
"Why?" Guy shouted.
"You already know the answer, but your love forthis woman has blinded you to it," Philip accused him, clearly undauntedby his brother's explosive outburst. "To allow your wife to practice herquestionable skills is a direct challenge to the Church. If your tenants orknights become injured or ill, they come to me or go to the monastery infirmaryinAbergavennywhere care is advocated, not a cure.Sickness is from God, to be healed by divine intervention, not by medicines andsurgery—"
"It was not divine intervention that saved my lifein Damascus," Guy cut him off harshly. "It was Leila and her adoptedfather. If not for their knowledge and medicines, as well as Leila's skill withthe hot irons with which she sealed my wound, I would not be alive today!"
Leila started when Guy touched her arm, saying with aquietness that belied the boiling anger in his eyes, "Leave us. I will nothave you hear any more of this ranting. But do not fear, my love. You shallhave your hospital."
Her throat was so painfully constricted she did notattempt a reply. Rushing past Philip without so much as a glance, she fled thestorehouse. She ignored the puzzled looks of servants, knights, and men-at-armsalike as she hurried toward the keep, scalding tears tumbling down her face.
Why had her mother done this to her? Why? Leila raged, desperatelyneeding someone to blame for the terrible pain that was ripping her apart.
Renounce her past? Renounce her profession? How couldshe? It would be the same as tearing out her soul. Surely Eve knew she wouldnever live peaceably in this world. How had her mother ever believed she wouldfind happiness here?
Entering the keep and running up the stone steps, herfootfalls echoing in her ears, Leila cursed Eve.
Slamming the bedchamber door behind her, she cursedGuy.
