He turned around to see the druid healer standing away from the bed. Her head was bowed and her hands were folded neatly before her. As if conscious of his gaze, she lifted her face to his.
“All will be well,” she said. “Your father will live.”
Chapter Eight
The weight hadfallen from his shoulders. Relief made him feel vital and alive. He wanted to swing the druid into the air and kiss her, but instead he stepped forward and grasped her hands in his.
“Truly? He will live?”
Juliana nodded, her intelligent green eyes glinting to show she understood how he felt. “He will sleep a while longer yet. When he awakes, he should eat. He needs to recover his strength.”
Tristan looked across to his father’s bed. Angus slept on, much as before, but his breathing was stronger and colour had returned to his face. He looked like a man who slumbered, rather than a man inches from death.
“I should tell my mother.” He didn’t want to walk away from Juliana, but duty called.
She gave him a slow smile. “Indeed, you should. I will leave so she can visit with her husband in peace.”
“Nay.” Tristan was emphatic. “You are our honoured guest. You may leave this chamber, of course. But please, you must dine at Wolvesley with us this night.” He was already walking towards the door, plans brimming in his mind. At the other side, stood Molly, just as he had hoped. “Show Miss Juliana to the best guest chamber,” he ordered. “And have the kitchens prepare a broth for when my father awakens.”
Molly’s small hands flew to her cheeks. “Milord will awaken?”
Juliana appeared by his side, smiling with soft reassurance. “Before midday, I would wager.”
Molly dropped into a curtsy. “Praise be,” she muttered, wonderingly.
Tristan left the two women together and strode off towards his mother’s solar. Exultation was battling weariness now, for he had not rested since rising at Ember Hall the day before. The keep was still a strange, quiet place. He should tell his mother that a celebration feast was in order.
He flung open the door and stood blinking, for a moment, at the brightness within. His mother and Mirrie sat side by side on the cushioned window seat, haloed by light. They had their sewing on their knees, but neither of them applied themselves to it. His mother’s face was pale and drawn with fatigue. Mirrie’s eyes were red-rimmed. She was the first to stand when she saw him.
“What news?” she asked, uncaring of her sewing which had fallen to the floor.
He nodded briefly. “My father will live.”
His mother made a strangled sound, her hands going together as if in prayer. Mirrie looked from one to another.
“The druid?” she began.
“Has accomplished what I brought her here to do.” Tristan drew himself up to his full height. Both of them had doubted him.
Mirrie smiled, transforming her into the young woman he knew. “I’m so pleased.” She dropped to her knees beside his mother. “The worst is over.” She gripped Morwenna’s hands. “Your prayers have been answered.”
His mother’s lips shook and tears shone in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak but no words came out.
“Go to him,” Tristan urged. “Go and see for yourselves.” He threw them a smile. “We shall have feasting and revelry at Wolvesley this night.”
His mother drew herself to a standing position, though her whole body still trembled. “’Tis a little early for feasting, my boy.”
“Go to him and see for yourself,” he repeated.
She crossed the room towards him and took his hands. “I will. And if all is as you say, I shall thank you from the bottom of my heart. But I shall attend no merry-making until my husband is at my side.”
He inclined his head, conscious of the long days she had spent in the sick room. “You will at least take some rest.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Aye, if I am persuaded of his recovery. And I must get word to your brother and sisters. Though it seems you were right, Tris, in your decision to wait before sending for them. ’Twould have caused unnecessary alarm.”
Tristan turned to Mirrie. “Go with her,” he urged. “See for yourself that all will be well. Then dine with me, please.”
Mirrie reached up and patted her hair, a little self-consciously. She looked especially lovely, he realised, in a more formal gown than she was wont to wear at Ember Hall. He hadn’t noticed, earlier in the stable yard. Too many concerns had crowded his mind. But now, he wanted her by his side once more, his lifelong friend. His ally.
