“You needed to sleep.”
Though in pain, his concern was for her. Humbled and unsure how to reply, she double-checked the dosage. Except for Grisel and Burunild MacCheine, her mother’s personal maid who had visited on occasion until Alesone was seven, few had worried how she fared. She mixed the herb with water. Nor could she forget the reality of the situation. His injury had delayed their parting. Once they reached Avalon Castle, he would be gone from her life forever.
“Alesone, something has upset you.” He brow furrowed. “At times ’tis best if we share our troubles. Though we have spent less than a fortnight together, I have been known to be a good listener.”
Her hand trembled as she handed him the cup, frustrated that even overtired, he missed little. She dinna need the bond between them to strengthen. ’Twould be hard enough now to watch him leave. “Drink everything.”
With slow swallows, Thomas drained the contents. A soft clank sounded as he set the empty goblet on the bedside table. With a sigh he lay back. “I thank you. The chamomile will make me drowsy, but a touch of valerian might have been a better choice.”
Impressed he knew his herbs, she stowed the unused portion inside the basket. She’d considered valerian, but had decided to wait. With her father’s men downstairs and Nicholai’s impending return with news, if for some reason the situation eroded, she needed Thomas alert.
“There is something I need to explain. Before I begin, know that Brother Nicholai is handling the issue.”
With a grimace he sat up.
“What are you doing? You are too weak to be moving about.”
His jaw tightened. “Tell me.”
She said a silent prayer. “Comyn’s men are below.”
“What!” Thomas braced his arm against the bed and swung his feet over the side.
Alesone barred his way. “They are unsure if we are here.”
Eyes dark with frustration held hers. “How did they find us?”
“They followed tracks left by the cart we used to bring you here.”
Panic flared in his eyes. “John—”
“Nicholai sent a man to check on him.” Her voice wavered at the last. “I pray he is…” She shook her head. “Once Nicholai knows more, he will let us know. Lie down, please. Moving about will tear your wound apart.”
His eyes blazed, but he didna stand.
She considered it a small victory. Understanding his upset, her own nerves on edge, Alesone walked to the hearth and rubbed her hands before the flames.
“Alesone.”
The quiet resolve of his voice had her turning.
“I will see you safely to Avalon Castle, that I swear.”
“I know.” When a man like him gave his word, he achieved his goal. A quiet yearning built inside. How would it feel if Thomas wanted her? Warmth slid through her.
Answering heat shimmered in his gaze.
Flustered, she looked away, but a soft burn lingered.
“Lass?”
Off guard, unsure what to say, she decided ’twas prudent to change the topic. She glanced over. “You are familiar with the healing arts?”
A shadow flickered in his eyes. “’Tis wise for a man who lives by the blade to learn cures that may one day save his life or that of his men.”
Mayhap, but she sensed another reason lay behind his claim. She clung to the thought, needed the distraction to fill the void until Nicholai returned. “’Tis rare to meet a knight who has more than a minor interest in herbs.”
Silence.
