Defiant Surrender (14 page)

“I cannot allow her arm to be much longer without blood.” Mistress Rhode paused and inspected Madeline’s lower arm and hand. “Too soon, I’m afraid.”

The excruciating pain tore through her. Maddie wouldn’t have thought a piece of wood could cause so much agony. She winced somewhere between consciousness and sleep as her arm was shifted and prodded. She wanted to shout to whomever it was to leave her alone. Perhaps if she were lucky, it would come out like a splinter. Fester within a day or so and pop out. But right now, all she wanted was that blissful darkness to swallow her again.

Maddie had always fainted easily as a child and as the arrow staked her arm, that same sensation of falling through a void had enveloped her. From that point on, she moved in and out of consciousness, remembering only segments of time.

She remembered William, his grasp on her, hard and secure. The distant sound of horse’s hooves, which pounded against the ground. The wind cold on her face, the unbearable ache as her arm jostled through the ride. He’d spoken to her, a plea almost, against her ear, the words a blur, erased by the pain. However, whatever the words he spoke, they comforted her. His tone conveyed more than words ever could.

They were above her now, not only William but also Mistress Rhode. She wanted to smile to reassure them. Their words were harried, fast, scared; they frightened her. They were arguing. Why wouldn’t they go away and leave her alone?

A hand, warm and strong, clasped her arm. The other pushed down on her hip. She couldn’t move. She opened her eyes, fought the sleep that wanted to take her. Panic assailed her. They were going to pull it out. Oh, God no, please, no. Not without morphine, or whatever medieval drug they had to kick her back into oblivion. Her eyes met William’s, they somehow calmed her soul. She could do this. She could.

Okay, maybe not. She stilled, clamped her jaw about a piece of wood as the arrow pulled free. She wanted to scream but her voice didn’t cooperate. At that moment, Maddie hated them both equally, with their barbaric doctoring.

Idiotic, bastard, medieval torturers.

Another sharp stab of pain assailed her arm. Fingers prodded then clamped with excruciating pressure. It hurt like hell. Never had she suffered such agony in her life. Another arrow wound would have hurt less.

She passed out.

*

Minutes or perhaps hours later, Maddie heard them, faint at first, then louder as her senses started to work. How long had she been here? She tried to open her eyes, feeling weak as a newborn babe. She no longer hurt. She was just sleepy. Really sleepy. They said something; words lodged in her brain. Bleeding too much. Death. William, who sounded…unhinged.

She fought the blackness that wanted to take her and opened her eyes. She looked up at him. Panic marked his face. A faint smile lifted her lips as his eyes beckoned her to stay with him. They were warm and inviting, pulled at her. Begged her to give their marriage a chance. Even with herself in this precarious position, her female self crowed over the win. The medieval lord was hers.

She shut her eyes, but stayed awake to listen to them. Liked the sound of their voices, liked them again, now that there was no pain. They were arguing. She frowned; why did they have to touch her arm again? No, she wanted to scream, leave it alone. Her fingertips prickled as the blood flowed back into the digits. Yet something was wrong.

The bed was wet.

She was bleeding.

Bleeding to death.

Her eyes flew open and her gaze landed on William who sat next to her. His brow furrowed, his hand stroked her hair from her face. She didn’t want to die. She was young, had her whole life before her. She couldn’t let a piece of wood take her out. How embarrassing would that be on a headstone? Killed by stick.

“William, cauterize it,” she hazily murmured. It was that or them watch her die. She refused to die in 1102. Not only because of her age, but technically, she hadn’t even been born yet, for God’s sake. How can you die before that took place? She heard Mistress Rhode gasp in horror. She winced as the tourniquet tightened once more.

“Are you sure, Madeline? ’Twill be extremely painful,” William said, his hand stroking her cheek.

She opened her eyes and peered at him. He placed a damp cool cloth upon her brow. Worry and anguish written upon his features, he looked older than his years. A half smile lifted her lips. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that, she knew damn well how much it was going to hurt. However, dying was not an option, so they better jab her with that hot poker and be quick about it.

“I know, just get it over with,” Maddie stated, nerves knotting in her belly.

“But, m’lord,” Mistress Rhode said. “She’s a woman. I cannot let you do such a thing to a lady.”

“Would you rather she dies?” William asked, his voice hard
.

Maddie heard his reply and relaxed, knew he would do as she asked. “Let him, Mistress Rhode. I’ll survive. I promise,” Maddie said as she braced herself for the burn.

She watched the fire poker came out of the roaring blaze. The tool, wiped with a cloth with no disinfectant used. She inwardly balked, her insides awash with panic over her choice. Had she just asked to be stuck with a dirty hot tool in medieval England? As Mistress Rhode poured a mixture of herbs over the wound, reality hit.

She had.

Oh God, she had.

William held her down, his clasp tight, almost painful.

“I’m scared,” Maddie said, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Shush, ma chère. ’Twill be over soon,” William said, his eyes haunted.

She caught her maid’s silent apology just before the hot metal instrument stabbed fast and long within the wound.

Maddie screamed. What she wouldn’t give to be home, under anaesthesia and oblivious right at this moment. Her body fought for release, futile under her husband’s tight hold. Blackness assailed her once again.

There was a God after all.

*

Maddie licked her lips, cracked and as dry as her mouth. It was so hot in here. Why was it so hot? She kicked at the blankets and sighed in relief as the chilled winter air met her skin. Her maid walked about the room. Her stride no longer panicked but calm and assured. She was out of danger. She had succumbed to a fever; no wonder with the dirty poker Mistress Rhode had used. But she was better now. Maddie stretched out, luxuriated in the soft wools beneath her. Only the slightest twinge of pain tweaked in her arm. This was much more preferable to how she was days ago, when she had wanted to shrivel up and die.

“You’re awake, my child.”

Maddie smiled. “Yes. Thank you, Mistress Rhode, for all your help.”

“You are welcome, m’lady.” Mistress Rhode stoked the fire with peat. “Your people believe m’lady’s recovery is due to a blessing from God.”

Maddie lifted her hand to her hair and felt the matted mess. “No blessing from God, just luck,” Maddie said. A lot of luck. Such a fever should have killed her. Perhaps when she’d jumped into the life of Lady Madeline some of her twenty-first century inoculations had come with her. Maddie wiggled up higher on her pillows. “Could I have a bath, do you think?” she asked, wondering if the sweat she could smell was her own.

“Aye, m’lady. I will have one brought up anon,” Mistress Rhode said, pulling out a clean chemise and bustling out of the room.

Maddie sighed and laid back, her attention fixed on the hearth. The fire, well alight, threw ample heat into the chamber. Her solitude was short lived before her chamber door opened once more.

“Would you care for anything else, m’lady?”

Maddie rubbed the wound on her arm. An annoying itch upon her skin. A good sign and one she would tolerate with gratitude. “No, thank you, Mistress Rhode,” she said. “What time is it?”

“The evening meal is about to be served, m’lady.”

“I’ll be fine here by myself. Go and enjoy your meal, you deserve a night off after all you’ve done,” Maddie said in a sincere tone.

“Nay, m’lady. I will stay and watch over you,” her maid replied, shock layered in her weathered face.

Maddie wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She flicked her hand at her maid’s protest. “Go. I command it,” Maddie said with a smile.

Two knights entered with a wooden bath, followed with pails of steaming water. Maddie assured Mistress Rhode she was well enough to bath herself and was soon left to her own devices. The water felt heavenly against sweat-ravaged and bloodied skin. Maddie looked down at the wound, still red and nasty looking. She cleaned away the blood her maid had missed and tried to clean around the wound without making it bleed. Blissfully clean, Maddie lay back in the tub and closed her eyes. Her mind wandering back to the day of the attack, and what little she could remember.

Figments of that day ran through her mind like a movie. The flash of movement in the woods. William and herself trotting toward home. The attacker must have been on a horse as well. And a very good shot. Perhaps there were Scotsmen roaming the area, bent on revenge for lands stolen years ago. Or perhaps someone closer to home had tried to kill her. And failed.

Maddie shivered in the lukewarm water and stood to get out. Would the assailant try again? And if so, how? People killed one another in medieval England all the time. Was she doomed to join their ranks?

She slumped down on a stool by the fire, her muscles weary after such an effort. She sat there, staring at the rough-hewn mat underfoot before the memory of Lady Veronica conversing with an archer at supper entered her mind. Anger as hot as the poker that jabbed into her wound assailed her. Had Lady Veronica stooped so low? And if so, why would she risk the wrath of William and the king by doing such a thing to a noble lady? Men were wonderful, but they weren’t worth killing people over.

Well, not in Maddie’s mind at least.

*

Three days later, Maddie stood out of sight on the minstrel stage above the Great Hall. Her little fingernail was growing shorter with every moment that passed. What was Veronica up to? She could see her seated below, the man she flirted with, in awe and practically salivating. The knight in question was none other than Mistress Rhode’s younger brother. A man whose mother knew how to use herbs. A man brought up in and around healing remedies and poisons. A shiver stole down Maddie’s spine. Was Lady Veronica planning to attack her through the food she ate? Tainting it with foxglove or cowbane?

Her heart sped up as William strode into the hall. Snow sat upon his green mantle as he handed it to a waiting servant before he proceeded to the dais. He paused at Lady Veronica’s side. Spoke to the pair before he escorted his ex-mistress to her seat, not far from his own. Maddie pushed away the stab of jealousy that knifed through her seeing them together. She supposed he couldn’t ignore the woman due to her status. However, that small fact did not make it any easier to watch.

Doubt crept up her spine like a spider. Had she misread his concern for her when she lay injured? He seemed at the time truly upset at the prospect he could lose her. Was it her imagination or had she hallucinated his troubled countenance?

Perhaps she had. Because William had been noticeably absent since the night he brought her home injured. It was as if he no longer cared how she got on. Unsure as to why he would not check on her, Maddie had plucked up the courage to ask Mistress Rhode of his whereabouts. Only to receive a look of pity followed by a tone meant to soothe, that she had not seen His Lordship at all and could not say.

Perhaps it was best Maddie had not told William of her feelings toward him. How hers had changed after his declaration on the beach. She may have stated that friendship was all she wished, but it was far from the truth. She wanted more. She looked down at the dais, and the many meat dishes now steaming before the diners. Unsure if William’s affection was still on offer.

Maddie steeled her back to find out. She looked down and checked her gown. Tonight she wore a supertunic over a kirtle. The cloth embroidered with gold thread, hung halfway down her gown. The dress, with its long sleeves, hid the bandaging on her arm well and accentuated her figure. She felt attractive and alive, and it was time to see just what her husband’s thoughts were when it came to their relationship.

Maddie walked into the hall, and whispers sounded loud in the quiet. She ignored Lady Veronica and her tittering. Instead, she smiled and returned her peoples well wishes. William’s gaze was on her as Sir Alex stopped and kissed her hand. The knight welcomed her back and proclaimed how happy he was that she was once more among them.
In no rush to sit at the dais, Maddie spent some time with the fist knight and others who joined them. She thanked Sir Alex when he offered to escort her to her seat. Maddie did not miss the line of tension that pulsed between her and William when she laid her hand on the knight’s arm. William stood; dismissing Sir Alex with a glance then helped her to sit.

“Thank you, my lord,” Maddie said, as she settled before the populace.

“You are very welcome, my lady.”

Heat stole up her cheeks at his words. ‘My Lady’ had sounded more like a declaration than a name. She beckoned her meal and wine from a servant, and then rallied herself to find out where she stood.

*

William did not miss Madeline’s reaction to him as she became aware of his fixed attention. He drank her in, like a man starved of water in a desert. A delicious blush sat upon her cheeks, her eyes shining with merriment. She looked well, happy, and whole. He sent a silent prayer up to God for such a blessing.