Colyne cradled her as the ship plunged into the next trough, and he prayed for the storm to pass. Hand trembling, he lifted the cup to her mouth. “A bit more.”
With dull acceptance, she choked down a swallow. “Enough.”
“For now.” But he’d nae give up. He stroked her hair with slow, gentle sweeps, thankful when she succumbed to an exhausted sleep. But with each passing hour, as she grew more listless, fear clawed through him that even if the winds calmed, ’twould be too late.
Seized by her unending struggle against nausea, Marie lost track of time. Days hazed together, each laden with the stench of salt, the stale odor of wood, and the scream of the wind as the storm howled its outrage.
Bits and pieces of the past several days fragmented through her mind; the captain’s concerned face, Colyne’s urging her to drink and, at times, to eat. As she’d lain on the bed shaking and exhausted, she’d wanted to do neither, but for Colyne she’d tried. And through it all, as much as possible, he’d remained steadfast by her side.
“Are you awake?”
At Colyne’s worried voice, she opened her eyes. A shaft of sunshine streaming through the window had her closing them. Then sherealized the ship no longer was assaulted by the waves but rocked gently beneath her.
Slowly, this time prepared for the bright light, she gazed up at him. Though tired, the smile on his face warmed her soul.
He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “You have been asleep for a long time.”
Marie frowned as she noted the sun’s angle. ’Twas beginning to set. “How many days have passed since we left port?”
“Eight; we were thrown far off course.”
Streaks of pink-orange rays cut through the blue sky, announcing the oncoming night. “They are all a blur.”
“You have been very ill.”
His fear for her roughened his voice, strains of exhaustion creased his face, and shadows haunted his eyes. A testimony to his own sacrifice. “You need sleep,” she said, moved that he’d jeopardized his own health by remaining awake to tend to her.
“I needed you more.”
Marie’s hand trembled as she reached out for him.
Colyne entwined his fingers with hers and drew her to him, his kiss as soft as dew upon heather in the first morning light.
Overwhelmed by this amazing man, she poured out her love for him in their kiss. How would she ever be able to face life without him, to wake up each day and not find him at her side?
Colyne’s words haunted her.You can settle and be unhappy or live the life you choose. Could she ask her father to end her betrothal?
As quick as the thought came the guilt. The daily demands of her father’s kingdom kept him sequestered in meetings to ensure the stability of the crown, along with his many other concerns. And with England and Scotland caught in a desperate clash, and King Edward making threatening noises toward France, her father had enough on his mind without complications from her.
Colyne broke their kiss and traced the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. “Your health is much improved, but rest will make you even stronger.”
She gave him a pleading smile at odds with her troubling thoughts about her future. “I want to feel the wind upon my face, and the cleansing warmth of the sun. And I need to get out of bed for a short while before I go mad. Please,” she added as a frown began to work across his mouth. “Afterward, I promise I shall rest.”
He hesitated. “If you eat first. And then only for a short while.”
Before he changed his mind, she pushed herself up in the bed. With zeal, she ate the porridge, then a chunk of bread. With a satisfied sigh, Marie swiped the cloth napkin across her lips, dropped it into the empty bowl, and smiled at him. Her head spun and her legs threatened to give way as he helped her stand, but she didn’t complain. Cloistered within the confines of this cabin, however temporary, she’d do anything to escape.
Colyne steadied her as she wove slightly as she started forward. When they reached the deck, sunshine exploded around her in a flood of golden light, the shimmering bands of light spreading upon the swells in a brilliant wash.
The unsettling thoughts of moments before fled. Marie basked in the warmth, inhaling the scent of sunshine and the sea, marveling at the aqua sky punctuated by streaks of the oncoming night. “It is as if Merlin has cast a spell,” she whispered, moved by nature’s masterpiece.
Colyne arched a curious brow. “Merlin?”
Warmth filled her as the memories rolled past. “When I was eight summers, after my father returned from one of his many travels, he gifted me with a book filled with stories about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. From then on, whenever he visited, he would read me one of the tales before he departed.”
As Colyne guided her across the deck, she reveled in the warm press of his hand against her lower back.
He halted, and she leaned against the rail and then smiled when he settled beside her, lacing his fingers with her own.
