Unbidden (The Evolution Series) (11 page)

“It is a wonder you survived!”

“I spent most of the day flat on my face, unconscious. I woke during the night thinking I was dead, hearing the moans and cries of other wounded men. I knew that sound. It is an earthly sound to me and yet I had to wonder if that is also what hell might be like. Unheard cries for mercy. The smells of death.”

She shuddered
. “That must have been terrible.”

“I did not think about it long
. The pain in my head was indescribable. I could not even imagine moving. I was weak, shaking, vomiting. It was so dark I thought I might be blind.”

“Were you afraid?”

He grimaced. “My only fear was that I would live when I would be better off dead. My pride could never tolerate being helpless.”

Her heart wrenched
. “How long did you lay there?”

“Theo and Doeg found me
the next day. Doeg thought I was dead, but Theo saw my breathing. I thought my head would separate from my shoulders when they rolled me over. Theo assured me my skull was not literally split. And it was not. It just felt that way. Never did get my spata back. Some thief must have pulled it out of that Breton while I was unconscious.”

His thumb continued to caress beneath her breast, and the heat of his palm felt like it might burn through her tunic
. She found it quite distracting, and knew she should stop him, but feared it would somehow be ungenerous to do so. “How long ago did this happen?” she asked, gently tracing the line of his scar again.

“Summer before last
. I was out of action until autumn, but was able to return to the army this year.”

“Did you have headaches before the injury?”

“Never. They are coming less and less as time passes.”

“That is a good sign
. Can I tell you what I think?”

“You have never asked my permission before.”

“I think the sunlight could have triggered this one. And possibly lack of water. I found that Eva had more headaches in the summer when she was in the sun and let herself get thirsty.”

He seemed to consider what she said as he moved his hand again, his fingertips finding the suggestion of her pelvic bone through soft woman’s flesh
. They rested that way for awhile, until discomfiture forced Rochelle to try to make conversation.

“What happened to Doeg’s arm?  Is that also a battle injury?”

David’s brow furrowed. “It was damaged when he was young.”

“How?”

“We do not speak of it.”

“What do you mean?” 

“We do not talk about it.”

“You will not even tell me the cause?”

“I do not know the cause. My father and Doeg dislike any discussion of it.”

Rochelle thought this exceedingly strange, but the topic agitated him and she didn’t want to aggravate his headache
. “And what about your mother?”

“My mother died when I was three or so
. Complications from childbirth.”

“You never knew her?”

“I have no memories of her.”

A tender ache filled Rochelle’s heart
. “So, your father raised you and Doeg?”

“No,
Doeg stayed at home. I was sent away upon my mother’s death. A distant maternal relative raised me. They kept me fed, taught me more than most lads, and made sure I knew how to survive in a fight when the time came.”

“Do you visit them often?”

“They died at least ten years ago.”

“Where is your father’s estate?”

“West of Regensburg. If my mental map is right, it lies almost due east from Alda. It is called Atrum Calx.”

Dark Stone
. The name filled Rochelle with unpleasant foreboding. “Do you visit with him and Doeg in the winters?”

“I was last there two years ago or more
. His house is more active during the winter than I like.”

The ache in her heart pierced her more
. Did he have no real home or family?  Was there no one waiting at the end of each summer to find out if he was alive or dead? 

“What was your father like?” he asked unexpectedly.

Rochelle couldn’t stop a tender smile. “He was kind. Studious. He never stopped a Breton broadsword with his head, but he served Charlemagne in his own scholarly way. That is how he earned Alda.”

D
avid smiled at her jest. “How did he come to marry a slave girl?”

Rochelle gasped
. “You know about that?”

“I do. And I do not care, just in case you were planning to add that to your arsenal of reasons why you cannot marry.”

“It is not an arsenal….” She stopped herself. She hated to spoil this moment by reviving their argument, even if she should be collecting her excuses for spinsterhood like arrows in a quiver.

They were silent
. He began to move his thumb again, gently rubbing along her hip. The expression in his eyes had changed, from childish peace to simmering unrest. She became more aware of the fingers of his other hand, unmoving yet still intimately placed under her thigh.

With ever so much force of will,
she held her thighs still. She found it impossible to not caress him in some fashion. She moved her hand to his head, gently sifting her fingers through his wavy hair. She longed to learn the cords of his neck or the curve of his shoulder. That would be too bold a move by far. It would surpass tending to his illness, to that dangerous realm she was trying to avoid. Her avoidance, however, did not extend to the point of denying his tender caress of her hip that sent darts of pleasure down her body.

“H
ow did they marry?” he asked.

Rochelle sighed
. “I do not really know. There are large parts of my mother’s life she does not like to talk about.”

“Ah, so there are things of which your family does not speak
, as well.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

“I do not know
. I think my mother experienced bad things – maybe horrible things – when she was brought here as a slave. She was taken from her home and has no idea how to get back. She misses it. But she tries to keep all of that behind her now.”  While Rochelle did not want to admit to any similarities, it did bear thinking about. “Do you think Doeg’s injury was traumatic beyond the loss of the use of his arm?”

“No
. But he is conscious every day of its lack. Talking about it only reminds him more.”

“He concentrates on it too much,” Rochelle retorted before thinking.

“You do not even know him.”

“Nor do I wish to,” she answered sharply.

“Because he is my brother,” David said flatly.

He misunderstood her, which seemed a poor end to the open, honest conversation they’d shared
. Her dislike of Doeg had nothing to do with David. Letting the mistake stand spoiled something…companionable…that had materialized between them. She should be happy for the error.

Magnus yipped again
. “That will be Theo,” David sighed.

“Or my mother,” Rochelle whispered back.

“Fire and smoke,” he cursed, sliding his hand reluctantly from her hip to the ground as he feigned sleep.

A bright blue feather bobbed toward them, obviously attached to someone’s cap
. “No, it is Theo. I can see him now.”  Their friend walked carefully forward, trying to make no noise.

When he saw Rochelle watching he asked in a whisper, “How does he fare?”

“I am awake,” David said without moving. “I am much improved.”

“Praise God!” Theo said fervently
. “No one else has been able to help you at all.”

“So I have told Rochelle.”

“It is a miracle,” Theo rejoiced.

She demurred, “ I - I only mi
xed some feverfew and a bit of —”

David cut her off
. “Do not sell your skills short,” he said. She looked down at his face. He watched her, his expression soft, grateful, and somehow needful.

“I am, ah, just glad I could offer some relief.”

“You did,” he said before raising his voice for Theo’s benefit. “I suppose our fellow travelers are anxious to continue.”

“As much as they hate to disrupt what has obviously been a lengthy and heated argument between the two of you, they are wondering if you could continue it on horseback.”

“Argument?” David asked.

“It was the best thing Marian could think of
. She knew if she told them Rochelle was ill, they would wonder why her own mother was not tending to her. She said you were having a tremendous quarrel. My own men were about ready to come fell you for speaking harshly to such a fine and gentle woman as our Lady Rochelle.”

“I think I have the picture, Theo
. If you will give us a few moments we will join you.”

“Very well.”

“Perhaps when you return to the group you could explain that I was on one knee, begging her forgiveness.”

“Not sure I can pull off that lie,” Theo called over his shoulder.

Rochelle watched him leave, then asked anxiously,  “Are you sure you are ready to move?  I can feign something. A stomach ailment, my monthly, something so that you do not have to ride until tomorrow.”

“You would do that?”  David asked incredulously
.

“Of course
. I know your pride does not allow you to admit to your affliction – which
is
rather silly when it stems from having a blade embedded in your skull – but everyone expects a woman to be weak.”

“I was not under the impression you hide behind other’s expectations of you.”

“I do not,” Rochelle replied with an impish smile. “But I will allow you to, if it spares you the suffering.”

David began to rise, taking longer than necessary to withdraw his hand from beneath her leg
. She involuntarily sucked in a breath at the pressure of his fingers sliding along her thigh. Her heart skipped in her chest. God in heaven, what was happening to her?

He knelt next to her, staring intently at her face
. She thought he was gathering his strength to stand when he spoke. “I have many plans for us, many ideas of exactly whom will be doing what for whom. In none of those are you providing protection for me.”

He leaned forward, softly pressing his lips to hers as casually
as he’d just touched her. His kiss felt as natural as breathing, as wonderful as the sun on her face, as exhilarating as riding Denes at a full gallop on a winter morn. His mouth lingered, then he withdrew. His calloused hand cradled her cheek as his thumb rubbed across her parted lips.

“I will always tell you the truth, Rochelle
. No matter how you dislike it. Here is a truth you should enjoy, based on your reaction to my touch a moment ago. I long for you. I desire you and could easily while away this entire afternoon learning every curve and every need of your body. That, my lady, is saying plenty since you know my condition when this interlude began. You are apparently a temptation beyond all physical pain.”

“Temptation!” she cried
. Oh Lord, here she was, as simpleminded as her housemaid, Ruthie, lying in the straw of Alda’s stable.

“Aye, temptation.”

“Oh, no, no, no, this is all wrong,” she wailed. “Oh, what have we done?”  She swatted his hand from her face then shoved against his chest, finding it maddeningly unyielding.

He pressed her hands to him with one of his own
. “We have done nothing. We will do nothing improper until the time comes for you to marry me!”

“I am not going to marry you!” she shouted, her nose inches from his.

“Yes, you are. You are able to help me when no one else has. You ministered to me. You are my succor against this pain. I am not a particularly religious man, but even I can see this is providential. You are obviously meant to be my wife!”

“You are confusing my knowledge of healing with some higher message
. If I married every man whom I have cured of one malady or another, I should be the greatest polygamist in history!  There are at least ten for whom I have lanced boils alone!”

“Y
ou lump me in among your tenants with boils?”

“I do not lump you anywhere
. I cannot even think rationally about you at all,” she cried, then bit her lip, knowing she had revealed too much, knowing he had seen the truth by the way his eyes softened and his hand slid first to her shoulder, then to her neck to cradle her jaw.

“Stop that,” she protested weakly.

He kissed her forehead, then whispered against it. “Have you ever tried not thinking for half a minute?”

“I have not,” she replied sharply
. But she could not stop breathing in the superb scent of him. She had never thought of what a man should smell like, but here it was:  earth and soap and horse and temptation, she supposed. “And I will not let you make me start now. I will not!”  She drew a shuddering breath of resolution. “Besides, we should go. The others are waiting.”