Meeting his gaze, I saw his eyes shone with tears. I took his face in my hands and pulled his lips to mine. His arms folded around me, fitting our bodies together.
How warm he was.
We sent Jeremy for the surgeon, and the rest of us made our way up to the chapel. Jack and Mr. Couch shared the task of carrying poor Dolly, who also had broken ribs and whimpered pitifully all the way. They arranged her on the ground near the gap in the hedgerow, until Mr. Couch could come back with his pony cart.
The publican had hardly spoken three words since Goosevar was killed, and it seemed to me that he, too, was in a kind of shock. Buthe met my eye for a long moment before he left, and I knew he was remembering our conversation at The Wolf’s Head.
Though the weather had turned fine, a chill had settled within the stone walls, and Harker set Jack to building up the fire. Then the two of us went upstairs to make tea, and so that I could bind his ribs and hopefully give him some relief.
As Harker was removing his shirt, he said, “There is something I don’t think I can wait until later to tell you, Mina.”
The seriousness of his tone gave me a twinge of anxiety—even as I found myself transfixed by the baring of so much of his flesh.
“All right.”
At the tremor in my voice, he closed the distance between us and put his arms around me. I rested my hands on his rounded shoulders, and my heart began to hammer. I had liked touching him even when his flesh was cold. Now I thought it might be more than I could bear.
His chest expanded against me as he breathed. “Goosevar fed on the wife of my ancestor when she was with child.”
My own breath caught. “You’ve seen another of his memories.”
He nodded. “It seems the blood of a pregnant woman is especially potent. He nearly killed her and her child, but he made himself stop. He healed the wound with his own blood to hide what he’d done.”
A hard shiver went through me. “Was that what created the connection?”
“With her child, yes. Once I’d seen this, I kept sifting for more. I knew it might be our last chance to learn the whole story. He repeated this with each Tregarrick wife, using an enchantment, similar to the ones he used on you and Jack, to keep her from remembering the attack. Do you understand what this means, Mina?”
I swallowed over a tight place in my throat. “It means ... it really is over?”
He smiled, reaching a hand to my cheek, and softly repeated, “It really is over. He’ll never threaten a mistress of Roche Rock again.”
“How can we be sure, Harker? I mean, we burned him. But he came back once before.”
“I have an idea about that.”
His thumb brushed my cheek, and I nodded. If I’d understood him, he was telling me we couldtrulybe man and wife.
“You’re trembling, love.”
Again I nodded, because it was useless to try to speak, and he gently laughed.
Heat fountained in my belly as our lips touched. His mouth moved over mine, hungry not for my blood, but forme. His tongue slipped like silk between my lips, then out again. His teeth—no longer sharp, but blunted like my own—took a gentle hold on my bottom lip, and I softly moaned. He pulled me tight against him—and then gasped.
“Oh, Harker,” I laughed, stepping back. “Your poor ribs.”
I bent to examine them more closely. Purple bruises were already forming on one side of his rib cage. I could see the lines of bone below his skin, and I gently probed each with my finger.
“We should have the surgeon look, but they feel whole to me. I think the worst damage had time to be repaired before the end.”Goosevar’s end.“I’m sorry if I’m causing you pain.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever feel pain again,” he said in a coarsened voice. He covered my hand with his, stilling it against the plane of his abdomen. “But you had best stop now or we won’t be going back downstairs.”
My face and chest flushed hot. “Shall I bind them for you? If nothing else, it will remind you to be careful.”
He squeezed my hand before letting it go. “Thank you.”
My shift hung over a chair, from when I’d changed before the handfasting, and I found a pair of shears on his worktable. As I began cutting a long strip, he protested that he had a trunk full of clothing and linen that nobody was using.
To which I answered, “This shift is old and threadbare, and I’ll not mistreat any of your fine things to save it.”
