He lifted Catherine from his lap so Alys could pull the torn gown off, then eased her into the steaming tub of water before she could get chilled. After tucking a folded linen cloth behind Catherine’s head, Alys refilled the cup of broth. She held Catherine’s hands around the cup until she was sure Catherine could hold it on her own.
Alys touched his arm and jerked her head to the side. Reluctantly, he stood and stepped away with her.
“I see no outward injuries except the bruises around her wrists and the one on her cheek,” Alys said in a low voice. “Now I must find out if the man forced himself upon her.”
“We find her in bed, covered in blood,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “and you doubt he did it?”
“What we know is that he tried,” Alys said in a calm voice. “Remember, it was him we found dead on the floor—and with her blade in his heart.”
Alys cleared her throat and said, “Now, m’lord, ’tis best you leave for a bit. If the man did take her violently, she will have injuries I must treat. And I need to check the babe.”
William rubbed his hands over his face, as if he could push the horrible thoughts away. “I am staying unless she wants me to go.”
Alys did not look pleased, but she did not argue when he took his seat beside his wife. He held Catherine’s hand under the water while Alys spoke to her in a low voice.
When he felt Catherine’s fingers tighten on his hand, he said, “I will go if you wish.”
She gripped the side of the tub with her free hand and leaned toward him. “Nay, do not leave me!”
Choked with emotion, he could not speak at first. That she wanted him with her, in spite of how badly he had failed her, was more than he had any right to hope. More than he deserved.
He lifted her hand from the water and kissed her wet fingers. “I will stay as long as you will have me.”
His penance for his sins against his wife began in earnest then. He held her hand and stared out the window into the blackness of the night as Alys asked her terrible questions. Did Edmund strike her anywhere other than her face? Did he throw her to the ground? Was she sure she suffered no blow to her belly?
Eventually, in her straightforward way, Alys asked if Edmund raped her.
Catherine’s answer, when she gave it, was indirect. “If I had been a virgin, I would yet have my maidenhood.”
William let out the breath he had been holding, though her careful answer left him worried about what did happen. Alys, however, asked no more questions. Instead, she put her hands on Catherine’s rounded belly. After a time, she looked at Catherine and then at William, a broad smile on her face.
“The babe is well!”
“God be praised!” William said, squeezing Catherine’s hand.
All the way to Ross Castle, he had prayed God would protect his wife, never once sparing a prayer for their unborn child. But God, in his grace, had preserved the babe as well.
“Try to think of all you have to look forward to,” Alys said, touching Catherine’s cheek. “You have a fine husband and child, and soon you shall have another babe in your arms.”
Catherine pressed her lips together and nodded.
“Active as this one is, I’ll wager it’s another boy,” Alys said as she got stiffly to her feet. “Now, it is off to bed with you. Sleep is the best healer.”
Before she left, Alys pulled William aside once more. “Your lady is stronger than you know. She’s been through as bad as this and worse before.” With a last pat on his arm, she said, “ ’Tis a blessing she has you to help her this time.”
William was grateful to be left alone to care for his wife. As he helped her out of the tub, he dried her quickly and pulled a tunic over her head. He carried her to the bed in her chamber. After covering her, he shed his own clothes and crawled in beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
He stayed awake most of the night, listening to her steady breathing. No matter how many years God gave them, he would be thankful for every night his wife fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter Thirty-five
Catherine awoke to the sound of voices outside the bedchamber door. She heard the low rumble of William’s voice, followed by Jamie’s loud wail of complaint. Shivering as her bare feet hit the cold floor, she grabbed her robe and hurried to the door.
When she opened it, she found her four-year-old and her husband glaring at each other, hands on hips in identical poses. Stephen, who was standing on the other side of them, caught her eye, making no effort to hide his amusement.
“Jamie!”
The boy flew at her and threw his arms around her legs. Laughing, she sank to her knees to embrace him.
