Come Back to Me by Jody Hedlund

~ 26 ~

MARIANKEPTHERVIGIL at Will’s bedside all through the rest of the day. He slept so soundly that when the surgeon returned to check his wounds, he barely stirred. Marian had been awed just as much as the surgeon to see the once jagged bloody gashes now fusing together, the skin clean and pink with very little scabbing or scarring. Not only would Will live, but he wouldn’t have any permanent damage.

She marveled that the holy water had the power to cure so thoroughly and completely. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the healing. After all, she’d already experienced the effects of the holy water for herself with its amazing ability to transport her to another time period.

But by watching it work to restore Will, she’d gained an entirely different perspective. She understood in a way she never had before the implications of the ultimate cure. The line of sick waiting for a dose would stretch for endless miles: veterans with painful war wounds, cancer victims who were pale and bald after months of chemotherapy, quadriplegics who were bound to their wheelchairs, and people with every conceivable disease from around the world.

While Marian could imagine the joy brightening each face as health returned to their bodies, she couldn’t keep at bay a ripple of unease—the same unease that had plagued her before. In the short term, the holy water would bring happiness to countless people. She’d experienced that happiness in saving Will, in watching him return from the precipice of death.

But in the long term, what would such a miracle drug do to their society? What would happen if people could potentially live for hundreds of years? Would they face overpopulation problems? A shortage of food? Mass starvation? More conflict and hatred and war?

In all her work testing new drugs, she’d learned that negative side effects always existed—sometimes dangerous ones. Before a pharmaceutical company could move forward with any medicine, they had to discern whether the benefits outweighed the risks.

Even so, she couldn’t deny that if she had to do it over, she’d still give Will the holy water. No matter what happened to her or what her future held, she was determined to make the most of her time with Will.

Maybe after a while, she’d forget about twenty-first-century conveniences. The tastes, scents, and textures of her new life would surely begin to feel normal. And maybe she could endure the unpleasant aspects so long as she had Will by her side. After all, her other life in the present wasn’t without discomforts and displeasures either. She’d had her fair share of disillusionment and regrets there too.

Even with all the rationalizing about making the best of living in 1381, the reality of what she’d done by giving Will her ampulla made her stomach twist. Would she eventually grow unhappy with her choice? And more importantly, how long would she live in a coma in the present day? She might survive years, but she also might have only days.

Obviously, as Will mentioned, they could search for more holy water. Maybe eventually they’d discover more original ampullae. If she lived long enough, maybe she’d benefit from the earthquake opening the wellspring at St. Sepulchre—if that’s indeed what happened.

But even if she found more holy water, would Ellen and Harrison look in the hiding place in the crypt periodically? Or would they give up?

With the falling of darkness, she rose and allowed one of the maidservants to tend to her needs. Even though she’d dozed from time to time throughout the day, the events of the past week had caught up to her, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep.

As she climbed in next to Will, gone were the reservations she’d had about sharing his bed. The fact that he was her husband was more real than anything else. She loved him, and since she was staying in the past, she would willingly give herself to him once he was strong and well again.

She propped up on her elbow and allowed herself the pleasure of taking him in, the light of a single candle on the bedside table casting a glow over his face. His expression was almost peaceful, as if his slumber was so deep it allowed him a respite from his regrets over Thomas.

Perhaps he would never fully recover from the loss of his brother. But she loved him all the more for how much he cared about what had happened. She leaned down and brushed a kiss on his scratchy cheek. The warmth of his exhale bathed her skin, and before she could stop herself, she shifted her lips to his. She closed her eyes at the sweetness of the contact.

As she skimmed his full bottom lip, her body froze. A gust of wind swirled around her, and an instant later Will disappeared. Instead, a sturdy mattress supported her weight and elevated her head. The steady beep of monitors sounded nearby.

She’d slipped into the present somehow. Had the time continuum overlapped as it had previously? Or when she’d kissed Will, had she come in contact with a trace of the holy water on his lips?

Whatever the case, she had to use the opportunity to wake up and give a message to Harrison and Ellen that she was fine.

Wake up, Marian, she inwardly shouted at herself, attempting to lift her head from the pillow. But for as much as she tried, she couldn’t move, which was no surprise since she hadn’t been able to during her last vision. She could only conclude her coma was making the movement impossible, unlike during her first sightings of Will.

“They’ve both gone out,” came a man’s hushed voice across the room. A familiar voice. Was it Jasper?

“They’re at St. Thomas’s again,” he continued.

It was Jasper. From the one-sided conversation, she guessed he was on the phone. She pictured him with his brown hair and athletic frame standing near a window, likely dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

He must have flown over when he’d gotten news about her being in a coma. The gesture was sweet of him, but after being with Will, the slight interest she’d once had in Jasper slipped through her fingers like fine dust, blown away by the merest puff of breath.

The truth was, no other man could ever compare to Will. Not even a little bit. Will was so passionate about life and those he cared about. He felt everything intensely, including his affection for her. Perhaps he hadn’t fallen in love with her in the modern sense of the word, but something deep and real existed between them.

“No, they’re still as close-lipped as ever.” Jasper’s tone was laced with frustration.

She should have told Jasper before she left Connecticut that she didn’t see any hope for their future together. Of course, Jasper had always known how to deflect her concerns and insist they were just friends. But she could have been more direct. Then perhaps he wouldn’t be here now, wasting his vacation and holding out hope.

“I have been trying with Ellen. But she’s as cold as Marian was.”

Marian’s rambling thoughts converged and tumbled over one another. Jasper considered her cold? What did he mean by that? And what had he been trying with Ellen?

His voice dropped. “I can only do so much before they start to suspect something—if they don’t already.”

Marian felt her blood begin to run cold. She was suddenly glad she couldn’t move, that he didn’t realize she could hear every word of his clandestine conversation.

“No, I won’t threaten Ellen or resort to violence,” Jasper spoke even lower. “At least not yet.”

Threaten Ellen? Violence? What was going on? From the sound of things, Harrison and Ellen were safe at the moment, which was a relief after the uncertainty of the past days. But for how much longer would they be able to keep out of danger?

She waited for Jasper to say something else, to divulge his plans, but the room was suddenly silent—so much that she knew she was back in 1381. She opened her eyes to find she was lying next to Will.

He was still slumbering, the candle stub at nearly the same place it had been before she lapsed into the present time. Only a minute or so had passed, but her thoughts were vibrating like a dozen electrons.

She crawled out of bed and began to pace the length of the room, the rushes muting her footsteps. Jasper thought she was cold and he hadn’t liked her as much as she’d assumed. Had he only been pretending to like her? And if so, why? What if he’d cultivated a friendship with her for other reasons, like to keep tabs on what she was doing. Or to discover her father’s secrets.

She paused by the open shutters and shuddered, even though the night air was warm. While the idea of him using her was appalling, it wasn’t out of the question. She’d already considered the possibility of an insider spying and funneling information to other drug companies, especially a company like Lionel. If they couldn’t get details from her dad, then the next best option was to go through his scientist daughter.

She’d assumed Jasper’s transfer to the Groton, Connecticut, lab at the same time she’d started working for Mercer had been coincidental, as had his placement at the desk across from hers. But in thinking back, she could see now that his attention had been too quick and too calculated.

Marian resumed her pacing and tried to recall all the things she’d told Jasper about her dad’s research. She certainly hadn’t used any discretion in what she’d shared, had answered all his questions, and probably divulged much more than she should have.

She wanted to deny that Jasper was capable of duplicity. But how else could she interpret the phone call she’d just overheard?

Apparently, he hadn’t traveled to Kent to visit her out of concern for her well-being but to continue prying. And apparently, his numerous phone calls to her after she’d arrived in Canterbury had been for the same purpose. He’d even called her when she’d been at the bank checking Dad’s safety deposit box. Had he alerted Lionel to her whereabouts? Was that why she’d been attacked after leaving the bank?

If so, then Ellen and Harrison were in very real danger. And they had no idea of the threat he posed, not only to their safety but to the safety of the ultimate cure.

Marian paused in her pacing and turned to stare at Will. Maybe if she kissed him again and ingested more holy water residue, she could travel to the present again to warn them. But even if she managed to do so at a time when either Ellen or Harrison was in the room, she’d still be helpless to communicate with them.

No, she’d have to try to send them another message in the crypt. But when?

She glanced out the window to the deepening darkness. Jasper had mentioned they were at St. Thomas’s again. She wasn’t familiar with all of the churches in Canterbury, but St. Thomas’s was one of the closest to the cathedral. Why had Ellen and Harrison gone there? When Marian had done research on St. Sepulchre, she’d studied some of the other churches in the area. St. Thomas’s hadn’t been constructed until the mid-1800s. It had sustained damage during the Blitz during World War II. But otherwise, she hadn’t found anything significant about it.

Were they hoping to use it as a decoy to get their pursuers to think something was located there?

With exhaustion weakening her again, she returned to the bed and climbed beside Will. Her thoughts tumbled together with confusion and distress. Maybe with some sleep, she’d gain clarity on what she needed to do next.

* * *

Will stretched, and he didn’t feel even the slightest twinge, almost as though he’d never been injured. God had truly worked a miracle through the holy water. He could explain his healing no other way.

He opened his eyes to the faint light of dawn beginning to chase away the shadows. How long had he slept? One day? Two?

The quietness of the manor and the outside grounds told him everyone was still asleep.

What of Marian?

He glanced at the chair next to his bed. It was empty. Bracing himself for pain, he pushed up, only to realize once again he didn’t feel anything. Anything, except the warmth and softness of a body next to his.

Marian’s long hair was unplaited and spread out in waves around her. He reached for a handful, lowered his face into it, and breathed her in. She was turned away from him, but he could see that she’d shed her gown and was attired in only a shift.

He brushed his fingers across her shoulder and then down her upper arm. Swift desire jolted through him. Ere he could stop himself, he lowered himself against her. His rational side admonished him to wait, to allow her to sleep. She was likely exhausted from endless hours of tending to him.

But another part of him couldn’t keep from reaching for her. He’d squelched his desires and had tested the limits of his patience for long enough. With all they’d been through together, surely she would accept him now, even welcome him into her arms. She’d never given any indication she didn’t like his touch. Rather she seemed to burn for him as much as he did her, if the soft sounds of her pleasure and the way she melded against him were any indication.

He bent his head, parted her hair, and found the sleek column of her neck. His lips made contact with her smooth skin, and he almost groaned. He circled his hands around to her stomach, waiting for her to waken and sense his presence. He wanted her to arch into him, slip her hand over his, and give him permission to keep going.

Even though he had every right to claim her as his wife—always had—he wouldn’t move forward unless she was equally ready and rested. For now he would refrain from touching her any further. After all, he would have time later. The servants wouldn’t expect him to rise, not after his severe wounds. They could stay in bed all day if they wanted to.

Gently, he brushed a final kiss behind her ear and then forced himself to relax. He expected her at the very least to snuggle back into him sleepily. When she still didn’t move—not even slightly—a disturbing unease pricked him, and his warrior’s sixth sense told him something wasn’t right.

He stiffened, sat up, and listened.

Again silence prevailed. A distant clang of a pot told him a kitchen boy or the cook was awake. But otherwise, the manor was at peace.

No, the turmoil was within. Through the growing dawn, he assessed the room, his sights returning to Marian. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her so that she was lying on her back. She didn’t resist. Instead, her arm flopped to the mattress as though she were made of straw rather than flesh.

His heartbeat slammed into his ribs.

“Marian.” His voice was hard and demanding.

She didn’t respond.

“Marian.” This time he shook her shoulders. “I command you to awaken, wife.”

Her chest rose at the same slow, even pace that seemed to indicate she was slumbering. But somehow, he guessed she wasn’t asleep, that something had happened to her during the night. Something terrible he couldn’t explain.

He shook her again and called her name to no avail.

Panic erupted in his chest, the same kind of panic borne the moment he’d discovered Thomas had been taken for ransom by Arnaud de Cervole.

Thomas had sacrificed himself. Will had long since guessed Cervole would have released Thomas when Will demanded the exchange. But Thomas refused to go, had probably decided he was sick and dying and should be the one to suffer—not Will, who was healthy and had a family awaiting him back home.

Of course, Will had done everything he could to make the substitution. In the end, Cervole sent him away and kept Thomas. Will had been angry at Cervole, but in reality he’d been angry at Thomas too, for giving up and for leaving him. He’d tasked himself to guard Thomas and make sure he returned from the war alive. And he’d failed. Because he hadn’t tried hard enough. And because Thomas had loved him too much to let him die in his stead.

Frustration ripped at Will’s insides and his throat. He wanted to scream out to Marian that she shouldn’t have sacrificed for him too. Even though he didn’t understand how the holy water would have helped Marian, one thing was clear—she’d used her portion to save his life. And now he was alive and she was unresponsive.

He lifted her limp body into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “Marian.” His throat ached with rising pressure. “Do not leave me, my love. Please. I beg of you.”

More than aught, he wanted her to open her beautiful brown eyes, smile up at him with that teasing glimmer, and assure him she loved him and would stay with him forever.

But hadn’t she said she was from a different time and place? He suspected wherever that might be, she’d gone home. All he knew was once again he’d failed to save the person he loved.