Page 23 of The Forsaken
This was completely at odds with what Quinn knew of Phoebe’s religious beliefs, but she didn’t question Phoebe’s story. Perhaps Phoebe had grown disillusioned when she failed to conceive again. Quinn’s hand subconsciously went to her belly. A child was a miracle, and she was blessed to have conceived so easily.
“I’m sorry, Phoebe,” Quinn said. It wasn’t until she’d fallen pregnant herself that she’d really given any thought to what her mother and Phoebe must have gone through. Susan Allenby had been unable to conceive due to endometriosis, while Phoebe had conceived again and again only to lose her babies halfway throughthe pregnancy. Both Susan and Phoebe had managed to raise one child, but their paths to motherhood hadn’t been easy—unlike Sylvia, who’d gotten up the duff after one encounter and thrown her baby away.
FOURTEEN
APRIL 1461
Northumberland, England
Guy opened his eyes and promptly cursed his brother, using language that would make most men cringe. The wound in his arm had begun to blister and ooze, and the pain of the injury combined with the burn Hugh had inflicted hurt him in ways he couldn’t put into words. The slightest movement caused Guy to break out in a cold sweat and retch into the basin Nurse had thoughtfully left on the bed. He was, however, alive and at home, and for that he was extremely grateful.
He hoped Kate was still there. Her gentle touch and fervent prayers might not have saved him, but they had certainly helped, especially to lift his spirits, which had hit rock bottom as he lay in the chapel ruin, staring up at the jagged bits of roof and dark heavens and believing it was the last thing he would ever see. And then he’d seen her, leaning over him, her hair brushing his face as she laid a hand on his head and blessed him.
Guy turned his head toward the door as he heard approaching footsteps. He hoped it was Kate, coming to check on him, but it was Hugh. He’d bathed and shaved, and his hair was neatly brushed. He was wearing a doublet of claret velvet, and William’s ruby ring, which he seemed to have forgotten to return to Eleanor to keep safe for Adam.
Hugh pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. “You look better,” he said.
“May you roast in the fires of Hell until you hurt as much as I do,” Guy replied without heat.
“You’re welcome. Our sweet Angel of Mercy tells me your fever has broken and you’ve managed to eat something other than broth and bread. That’s excellent news indeed.”
“I can’t move my arm,” Guy complained.
“You have to give it time. The sword cut deep, almost to the bone. How’s your head?”
“It still hurts like the devil, and my vision blurs when I get tired, but I think it’s improving.”
“Praise the Lord,” Hugh said, crossing himself. “I really thought I’d lost you, Guy.”
The brothers grew silent as they remembered William, now safely buried in the cemetery of their parish church, St. Mary’s. There were half a dozen de Rosels buried inside the church, but the more recently deceased were in the cemetery, the church being too small to accommodate any more tombs in its crypt.
“How’s Eleanor? She hasn’t been to see me,” Guy said.
“She’s in a bad way, Guy. Adam is frightened. Thank Jesu for Nurse. She’s keeping him away from Eleanor by creating ‘important’ tasks for him to carry out. He’s been helping Walter clean our armor and accompanied him to the blacksmith’s to have your helmet beaten back into shape. It’s as good as new.”
“I keep expecting William to walk in and tell me that I’m a lay-about and we need to get in some sword practice,” Guy said wistfully. “I never got to say goodbye.”
“Guy, you’re a seasoned soldier, not a blushing maiden. You know what happens when men go into battle, and you know the odds of coming back unscathed. Lord Dancy lost three sons at Towton,” he added, looking gratified by Guy’s stunned reaction.
“Did he indeed? How do you know?” The Dancys had fought for Edward, so Hugh’s intimate knowledge of the family’s losses took Guy by surprise, but he assumed that Hugh had heardthat bit of gossip from someone left on the battlefield to tend the wounded. Many had lost their fathers, brothers, and sons that day, and many families had lost more than one loved one.
“I know, because their sister is in the bedchamber down the passage, looking very fetching in one of Mother’s gowns.”
Guy stared at his brother as the words finally penetrated. “Sister Catherine is Lady Catherine Dancy?” he asked stupidly.
“She is indeed.”
“But she’s a nun,” Guy protested. “Why is she wearing Mother’s gown?”
“The good Lord has smiled upon us, Guy. We lost William, but we gained something in the bargain. Lady Catherine was a postulant at Holystone Priory, not a full-fledged nun. She told Nurse. She was due to take her vows next week, as it happens, but her bereaved sire summoned her home as soon as he learned of the loss of his sons, and there’s only one reason why a man needs his daughter,” Hugh said, grinning.
“To marry her off to his advantage.”
“Exactly.”
Guy shook his head in confusion. It ached unbearably and he needed to close his eyes since everything in sight began to dissolve into swirls of mist, including his brother, whose head now resembled a large gourd. “I don’t see what this has to do with us.”
“You will, little brother. You will.”
