Come Back to Me by Jody Hedlund
~ 16 ~
A SENSEOFHOMECOMING fell over Marian as Will led her through the front doors of Chesterfield Park.
The entrance was much smaller than the one in Harrison’s modern home, the walls whitewashed, and the floor scuffed wood planks. It smelled musty and damp and contained a chill. Nonetheless, it was familiar and safe.
Straight ahead, the hall opened into what appeared to be a long dining room. She guessed it was the main room of the manor, like the great hall one would find in a castle. The light from a hearth fire and several sconces revealed timbered rafters, trestle tables running the length of the room, colorful tapestries hanging from plastered walls, and imposing swords and shields above the door.
A slender woman in the great hall moved toward them, her footsteps muted by the layer of rushes strewn on the floor. She wore a linen headdress and brown tunic tied with an apron. Although her face was plain, she offered them a lovely smile, even as she glanced behind Will anxiously.
Will nodded at her. “Thad will follow shortly.”
“Then he is unharmed?”
“Indeed. And bringing Christina.”
Relief flickered through the woman’s unassuming eyes, before she shifted her focus to Marian. Her brows lifted in question. “I see you have rescued another?”
“This is my wife, Lady Marian.”
“Your wife, sire?”
“You have not heard amiss.”
The woman’s eyes widened, her shock so obvious Marian couldn’t quell the flutter of doubt that took to flight in her stomach, as it had done often since she’d risen from taking her vows. Had she done the right thing in marrying Will? What would happen when she was inexplicably whisked back to the present? Making rash decisions was so out of character from her usual analytical, methodical, decision-making process. She pressed her hand against her middle to stop the uneasiness but then swayed.
In the next instant, Will scooped her up, his dark brooding gaze assessing her as sharply as it always did. “You are weak and tired. We shall wait for proper introductions until the morrow.”
“I guess I am worn out.” She was unable to find the energy to make him put her down. Not that she particularly wanted him to release her, not when she liked the strength of his arms surrounding her and the hardness of his chest against her cheek.
“You will attend Lady Marian.” Will spoke curtly to the young woman.
The servant managed to close her mouth and proceeded to dart into action. From one of the tables where she’d apparently been sitting with her mending, she retrieved a tallow candle in its holder. She held it out at arm’s length and let its glow light the way through a side door to a narrow staircase that led to the second floor. While not the large spiraling carved oak stairway that graced Harrison’s Chesterfield Park home, it was in the same location.
The woman guided them up the steps to the second floor. She started down the hallway, but her footsteps faltered, as though she didn’t quite know where to go.
“To my chambers.” Will’s voice was straightforward, unashamed.
But Marian felt herself flush at the thought of going directly to Will’s bedroom, especially in light of the suggestive comments he’d made to the peasants. He couldn’t possibly think they’d share intimacies. Not when they hardly knew each other. He’d surely been blustering to appease the men. At least she hoped so. Because she had no intention of having a real marriage. The union was a means to accomplish what she’d come to do. That’s all.
Although the corridor didn’t have a balcony, Marian recognized it as the same hallway in Harrison’s home. The layout and spacing of the doorways were the same. Even before the servant stopped in front of Will’s room, Marian knew which one was his. It was the guest room she’d occupied. That would account for why she’d seen Will there two times.
Leading the way inside, the maid set to work lighting other candles and sconces, bringing the dark room to life. A side door was closed, but Marian suspected it led to a dressing room, regrettably without a modern bathroom. A chamber pot near the bed told her how she’d be relieving herself at Chesterfield Park—not the way she preferred, but she supposed it was better than an outhouse.
The canopied bed was the same she’d seen in her vision, a smaller version of the one she’d slept in. Rather than blue, it was cloaked in a deep burgundy and surrounded by thick bed-curtains. The soft candlelight made the finely embroidered linen shimmer like wine in a crystal goblet.
Will lowered her to the bed, its mattress feather-stuffed and in a rope-slung frame. Though sagging, it was much more comfortable than the pallet at the nunnery.
Her eyes drooped in fatigue. Drowsiness rushed through her aching, battered body. Had she only left the infirmary that afternoon for her walk with Christina? After hiding for hours, fleeing on horseback, and then being accosted by peasants, it seemed ages ago.
“Sarah will assist you, my lady.”
Marian lifted her lashes to find Will standing above her. His granite expression had softened and the raw pain that usually haunted his eyes was replaced with worry. Although he didn’t ask her how she was doing, she could sense the question.
Mustering energy, she lifted a hand and grasped his. “Thank you. For everything.”
He captured her hand with both of his. Then he bent and pressed his lips against her knuckles. He held his kiss there for a long, sweet moment, letting his breath and the warmth of his lips linger.
Her pulse skittered wildly. And she couldn’t keep from thinking about his kiss at the peasant camp, the way it had charged through her with such power and passion. She didn’t know why his merest touch or his kiss should affect her so much. But she couldn’t deny she’d liked the kiss earlier. And she couldn’t deny she liked his kiss on her hand now.
When he straightened, he released her and took a step back. He met her gaze as he had at the camp, his eyes repeating what he’d said then—that he desired her and knew she felt the same.
That he could read her so easily was mortifying. She closed her eyes to keep him from seeing any other feelings. She sensed he was a man who didn’t play games, who said exactly what he thought, and would expect the same honesty from her.
The prospect of such openness frightened her. She’d always been content with surface relationships where she never had to reveal her pains, frustrations, and fears. But somehow with this intensely magnetic man, she’d exposed herself, made herself vulnerable, given him a glimpse inside. In letting down her guard, she’d unleashed an attraction she didn’t know how to wrestle back. It was out there, and only seemed to fight against her efforts to contain it.
“Bring my wife aught she needs.” Will spoke quietly to the servant.
“Aye, I’ll take good care of her, sire.”
Although Will’s stride was muted by the rushes on the floor, Marian could tell he was leaving the room. She lifted her lashes to watch him go, admiring everything about him from his purposeful stride to the hair pulled back into a ponytail at his broad shoulders. His wounded soul, his dangerous demeanor, his dark rugged looks—together they were an explosive combination, one that could easily ignite desire in any woman.
Except she couldn’t be that woman. She couldn’t let herself feel anything for him. She hadn’t come to the past to get caught up in a relationship, especially not one like this.
No, the best course of action was to maintain her distance from him.
He paused at the door and slid a glance her way, almost as though he’d known she was watching him. He held her gaze for an instant, long enough to strike a spark in her belly again, like metal against flint. He gave her a curt nod, then left the room.
Once he was gone, Marian released her breath and silently chastised herself. Only then did she realize the servant woman, Sarah, was watching her with a look of wonderment widening her eyes.
She rapidly dropped her sights. “Milady.”
Marian could only imagine what Sarah must be thinking, likely questioning why Will had married her. Marian had neither the energy nor the will to justify herself to this stranger. In fact, what she really wanted was a few moments alone to compose herself. “Would you be so kind as to find something for me to eat? I’ve had almost nothing all day and am famished.”
“Aye, milady.” Sarah dipped her head and then exited the room.
Marian settled back into the sagging mattress, closed her eyes, and for the first time since arriving to 1381 she felt out of harm’s way and perhaps hopeful. Tomorrow, she’d begin her search for the ampullae. But for tonight, she could rest in peace. A wave of exhaustion fell over her, giving her no choice but to succumb to a deep black sleep.
* * *
A soft caress against her cheek woke Marian. She couldn’t make her eyelids open, but she relished the familiar touch. And the familiar lemony-lavender scent of the shower gel and body lotion Ellen wore.
“I have emailed or phoned every cathedral, church, and museum in the UK, but no one knows the whereabouts of the last two St. Thomas ampullae.” The voice with the British accent sounded like Harrison’s. Swift and profound relief bubbled up. He was safe and home again. How and when had that happened?
The fingers stroked Marian’s forehead, pushing back her hair. “We need to check the hiding place in the crypt today.”
Ellen? Marian tried to open her mouth to speak but couldn’t move so much as a breath. At the same time, she attempted to lift her eyelids again and force herself up from the mattress. But she couldn’t do anything. It was as if her body was a block of ice, immovable in the slightest.
The only thing working was her mind, and it was flying.
“Her note said to wait one week.” Ellen’s voice was laced with weariness. “Today is exactly one week.”
Had it been seven days? Yesterday had been her sixth day in the past. If she’d slept for hours, then it made sense that she’d awoken on the seventh. But how had she been able to return to the present, and why wasn’t her body cooperating with her mind?
She wanted desperately to see Ellen, to look upon that beautiful face of her sister above her, to squeeze her in a hug and tell her that she loved her. She wanted to admonish her not to worry, to rest and take care of herself so she wouldn’t make herself sick.
The solidness of a modern mattress pressed beneath her, and the crispness of a sheet covered her. A tube in her nose, likely the nasogastric tube, was providing nourishment. And there was also an IV in her arm.
“I don’t want you to go to the crypt, Ellen.” Harrison spoke firmly. “In fact, I absolutely forbid it.”
Yes, she echoed Harrison. Don’t go. I’m here. She focused all her attention on her mouth, praying it would open, so her words would find release. But no matter how much she willed her frozen body to work, it wouldn’t.
“Someone has to go—”
“I will.” Harrison’s tone was low and resigned.
“Not after what they did to you.”
Who were they? What had they done? Marian’s heart raced. Again she worked to pry her eyelids up, her mind shouting at Harrison and Ellen not to go, not to put themselves in danger, not when she hadn’t hidden anything there yet.
“Why did she pick the crypt?” Ellen’s fingers slid down into Marian’s.
Marian wanted to squeeze back, even if only minutely. Surely Ellen would feel the movement and know she could hear them. For a second she focused all her thoughts and energy on her fingers. Move. She commanded, then pleaded.
But there was nothing.
Apparently coming out of a coma took some time. She should have known better. Surely it was only a matter of time before she could make some indication to her sister and Harrison that she was with them.
Harrison released a tired sigh. “I understand your frustration, love. But when so many other places have been torn down or wrecked from wars and the passing of time, the crypt has remained relatively unchanged since the Middle Ages.”
“But this place.” Marian could picture Ellen waving one of her elegant hands at the room. “She could have hidden something here.”
“This has always been a private residence. She would have no way of knowing if she could gain access. Whereas, the cathedral was open to pilgrims and had hundreds of visitors converging upon it every year. She’d have a much easier time getting into the cathedral than Chesterfield Park.”
Marian couldn’t wait to tell Harrison how wrong he was—that she’d made it into Chesterfield Park before the cathedral. Of course, both he and Ellen would be horrified to learn of the circumstances she’d experienced. But she would enjoy seeing Harrison’s reaction when she informed him of all she’d learned about his family home.
In doing so, she’d have to explain that she’d married Sir William Durham. They’d think she was crazy for doing so. And she was, wasn’t she?
Her thoughts returned to Will. He’d driven his dirk through a peasant’s foot and nailed it to the ground with no remorse. With drawn sword, he’d been ready to battle a dozen peasants, and would have slain them without hesitation if they’d challenged him. He was a fierce warrior who had likely killed countless men.
Yet, in stark contrast to his warlike demeanor, he’d carried her like she was a crown jewel. He’d deposited her on his bed with such tenderness. And then he’d kissed her hand . . .
Warmth speared her middle and spread outward to her arms and legs. She would miss him. Even though they hadn’t been together long, she liked him, more so than any other man she’d ever met.
What would he say when he found her unresponsive? Her pulse stumbled at the thought.
The hand encompassing hers was comforting. Thick calluses pressed against her tender skin. Her eyelids fluttered. She must be regaining her movement, sooner rather than later. She lifted her lashes and found herself staring at a burgundy canopy.
She shifted her gaze to see a dark head bent over her hand. It was Will sitting in a tall-backed chair next to her bed, holding one of her hands between his. His broad shoulders were slumped and his head bent, as though he were praying.
What had happened? Where was Ellen?
For a frantic second, she scrambled to conjure her sister and Harrison again. They were there. Only a slight overlapping dimension of time and space away. She had to return to them.
A soft pressure against her hand stopped the runaway thoughts and brought her back completely to the moment, to the realization that Will’s lips were pressed to the back of her hand. His breath was warm and bathed her skin.
His kiss was long and lingering before he lowered her hand back to the bed. Even there he kept his hold, head still bent, weariness radiating from the droop of his shoulders.
How long had he been at her side?
She gently squeezed his hand.
His head snapped up, and his tortured eyes met hers. What haunted this man? What had happened to him to cause such heartache?
She had the sudden and intense longing to ease his pain, to comfort him, to turn that agony to peace. What could she do to help him?
She offered him a smile, at least as much of one as her lips would allow.
He released a tense breath, and his grip around her hand tightened. “How do you fare?” He studied her face before assessing the rest of her body.
“I’m just fine.” She pushed up to her elbow. Someone had changed her out of her habit and put her into a thin shift.
He swallowed hard before speaking again. “We could wake you to no avail.”
Had she fallen into a coma for a slight time? Somehow she’d been able to travel back to the present, or at the very least had envisioned it. But how could she explain that to Will when she couldn’t understand it herself? “I’m sure I was just very tired. After recent events.”
“Naught ails you in particular?”
Just disappointment that she hadn’t returned to the present after all. “No, nothing ails me.” As soon as the words were out, her stomach gave an angry rumble.
Will glanced toward a corner of the room where Sarah stood, wringing her hands anxiously. “Fetch Lady Marian a meal.”
Sarah nodded her assent and scurried out the doorway, her hurried steps echoing in the hallway.
“I’ll get up,” Marian said. “I can manage for myself.”
“You must rest.” Will spoke the words as if she had no other option.
“What time is it?”
“Past midday.”
Half the day was gone. She tried not to panic. Even if she hadn’t found the ampullae, she needed to place something into the crypt to let Harrison and Ellen know she was all right. She couldn’t let Harrison go there today for nothing.
“I would like to get dressed.” She tried to push herself higher in the bed but only fumbled against the sagging mattress.
Will reached out to steady her, releasing her hand and instead grasping her upper arm. His fingers were warm through the thin linen. “You are still too weak.”
She wasn’t a weak woman, and she’d prove it to him. “I’d like to meet your family today.”
“You will meet them erelong.”
“And Christina. I want to make sure she’s all right.”
“She fares well and has already been in this morn to sit by your side.”
Marian was running out of excuses. She didn’t relish the idea of going back outside the gates of Chesterfield Park. But she had no choice. She had to communicate with Harrison. Today. Perhaps she could leave him a clue that she was looking for a new hiding spot.
Yes, she could locate a place here in Chesterfield Park, a nook or cranny somewhere within this original structure that had remained from 1381 until the present.
But where? She’d have to probe the room and see if she could locate a loose floorboard, area in the wall, something. Then she’d need to find a way to let Harrison know she’d changed the spot. Was there an item from the house, a small heirloom she could place in the crypt, signaling Harrison to search his home?
Whatever the case, she couldn’t rest in bed all day.
As though sensing her growing determination, Will’s jaw flexed. Something in the steely lines of his face told her he was accustomed to giving commands and having them followed without question.
But he’d quickly learn she wasn’t like most people he ordered around. Even if she was currently in the Middle Ages where women had fewer rights, she wasn’t about to stand back and let Will or any other man rule her life.
“I really must get up.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and let the covers fall away altogether. A moment of dizziness assaulted her, but she caught herself.
As she began to stand unsteadily to her feet, Will grasped her and brought her easily down onto his lap. She wriggled and tried to stand back to her feet, but Will’s arms slipped around her waist, drawing her further into his embrace.
Suddenly, she was conscious of their nearness, of the fact that her shift was tangled around her legs, exposing her knees and lower thigh, that its scooped neckline hung low, giving Will a slight view of her cleavage. It was less than her swimsuit would have revealed, but at Will’s quick intake of breath, she guessed she was showing more than men during the past were accustomed to seeing.
He spread his fingers flat over her stomach. Through the thin linen, his touch scorched her. His other hand drifted into the unbound hair that hung down her back. His fingers wound into the thickness until lost there.
Every breath he took was louder than the last and echoed in her ear, pumping into her blood, sending heat to the tips of her toes and fingers. When he pressed his face into her hair and breathed in a deep gulp of air, her arms went around him as if they had a life and will of their own. She shifted her head and brushed her cheek against his, finding pleasure in the scrape of his unshaven scruff with her skin.
His jaw rippled against her, and he tilted his head enough that his lips found the pulse in her neck beneath her ear. As his kiss landed there, she couldn’t hold back a gasp. Or another, as his mouth slid lower to her collarbone.
How could this man do this to her? Make her forget about everything but him? Because she couldn’t remember what had been so important to make her climb out of bed.
A startled gasp resounded from the doorway. “Oh my.”
Marian jumped and would have broken away from Will in mortification, except he didn’t release her. Instead, his hand against her stomach pressed tighter, holding her in place. At the same time he brushed a thick wave of her hair off her shoulder, exposing more of her collarbone where her nightgown had slipped down. His lips caressed the spot, before he spoke in a growl. “Be gone, Christina. Can you not see we are occupied?”
“Christina?” Marian sat forward and glimpsed Christina cloaked from head to toe in her usual apparel. The young nun had cast her eyes down, but her face was the flaming red of autumn leaves, especially in contrast to the tight-fitting white wimple that outlined her face.
As Marian pushed against Will’s chest to free herself from his seductive embrace, a low protest rumbled in his chest. His eyes were glassy with unsated desire and his expression taut. Yet, he released her, albeit reluctantly.
She scooted from his lap and stood—or at least tried to. Her legs were too weak to support her weight. As she faltered, Will lifted her and laid her back into the bed. As he flipped the coverlet over her, his attention shifted to her lips. Her stomach barely had time to clench with anticipation before he captured her mouth.
His kiss was hard and swift and shot through her like a gun blast.
He broke the kiss abruptly, this time before she was sated. “Stay in bed, wife.” He spoke in a low tone that told her he would accept nothing less than complete obedience. Then he strode out of the chamber, passing Christina without a word.
The moment he was out of the room, Marian expelled a breath—half from desire and half from frustration. Why, oh why, had she allowed herself to kiss him again? On the other hand, what harm could come from a few stolen kisses?
A warning inside told her to be careful. Will wasn’t the kind of man she could kiss and then abandon. He felt things deeply and personally. His worry at her bedside this morning was proof of that. When it was time for her to go, she’d hurt him—perhaps badly.
All the more reason to get out of bed and search for holy water.
Christina tiptoed across the rushes, her face still flaming. Marian could only imagine what the young nun thought of her. She probably considered her a hussy, making out with her brother after knowing him only a day.
“I’m sorry,” Marian started. “I didn’t mean to—well, you know . . .”
Christina didn’t respond except to dip her head lower.
“You probably think the worst of me.”
“Oh no, lady.” She glanced up then, shaking her head. “I could never think that. I admit I was surprised to hear about your hasty marriage the past eve. But I rejoice to see William happy again.”
What had she done to make Will happy? As far as she could tell, she’d only made his life more complicated. “Wasn’t he happy with his first wife?”
“He was content enough. And he would have laid down his life for Alice.”
Alice. Marian rolled the name around silently. Had she been pretty? Rich? Funny? What had Will loved about her?
“But Will and Alice were young when they met, and he was gone for such long periods of time.” Christina sat down in the chair Will had vacated. “I fear they never had the chance to see if love could bloom.”
Marian had the sudden unpleasant vision of Will in this bedchamber with another woman. He’d likely lain in this very bed with his wife.
“Now that my brother is older and more mature, he knows his mind well. He realized you are the woman he needs, and he wasted no time in claiming you.”
“I’m the woman he needs? How so?”
Christina smiled and looked up from her clasped hands. “You are strong-willed and determined and unconstrained. You will be good for him.”
“I see.” Marian didn’t have the heart to tell Christina that she wasn’t good for Will. In fact, she’d only cause him grief.
Sarah entered the room carrying a tray. Christina rose to help Marian sit up in the lumpy, uneven bed, and then Sarah placed on her lap the tray containing a bowl of steaming porridge, bacon slabs, dark bread, and watery ale.
As she ate, Christina chattered nonstop, just as she had yesterday in the woods. And Marian couldn’t help but think that a woman as lively and talkative as Christina didn’t belong in a convent. She clearly had bottled her words for so long that now she needed to express them. She rambled on about Chesterfield Park, about its history, about the grounds, the stables, the flowers, and even the chapel.
Marian didn’t mind, and tried to remember every detail so she could tell Harrison. He would be delighted to know about the original owners of the manor, how the house had looked, and what it had contained. After she finished the meal, a drowsy contentment overcame her.
As Christina took the cup out of her hands and situated her into the pillows, Marian yawned, suddenly too tired to do anything. As much as she needed to get to work saving herself and her family, she knew her body wouldn’t cooperate until she allowed herself to recover.