Page 19 of Stay with Me

Silence surrounded her. And the ping of a text.

Sighing, she peeked at her mobile. It was lit up on the ground with a message from Isaac. The few words in the banner said:Here to talk more if you need a listening ear.

“Stop, Isaac. Just stop.” With a curt shake of her head, she took another miniscule sip from the bottle and held herself motionless, her muscles taut with the desire to return to 1382.

Maybe the liquid wasn’t genuine holy water after all. Nicholas could have been mistaken. What if the two overlaps with him were all she’d get?

“No.” She wanted to go back. He needed help, and she might be the only one who could give it to him.

“No,” she protested again, this time louder. “I have to do this.”

With a defiant tilt of the bottle, she emptied the last of the contents into her mouth. As she swallowed, the closet faded away, and the world turned black.

~ 9 ~

At a commotion outside the dungeon door,Nicholas closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. If he pretended to be half dead from yesterday’s beating, Simon might spare him a whipping today.

Simon intended to kill him. Of that Nicholas had no doubt. But he was counting upon the fact that Simon needed to wrest information from him first. He had likely been paid by the French and now was desperate to give them something useful.

Nicholas had long since extinguished the candle. The wick and wax were nearly used up, and he was saving the remainder for when his angel visited him again. Not to view her beauty. No, he wanted to have the light so she could see while she aided him in opening the dungeon door.

He didn’t know exactly how she intended to get the keys from the guards, but she’d indicated she would do so. As an angel, she could probably accomplish much more than mere mortals, and he’d hoped she would work her miracle ere Simon and the guards came after him again.

But apparently, that was not to be.

The key clicked, the door squealed open, and footsteps slapped down the corridor toward him. As the torchlight fell over the cell, he remained motionless.

“Sir Nicholas looks dead, my lord,” said one of the guards.

“Nicholas is not dead,” came Simon’s testy reply. “Sit up, Nicholas, or I shall make Lady Theresa take your place at the whipping post this day.”

At the threat to his mother, Nicholas’s blood ran cold. He wanted to bolt up, reach through the bars, and strangle Simon. But he didn’t move. Simon wouldn’t dare whip his mother, not without cause. Even with contrived charges against her, Simon wouldn’t harm her in such a fashion. Doing so would only bring him great censure from the nobility and bishop alike.

No, this was an idle threat. At least, Nicholas fervently prayed it was so.

At the ensuing silence, he guessed his ruse was working.

“He appears to be breathing,” said the guard. “But he’s unconscious and won’t be confessing to anything.”

Simon muttered a curse.

“Should we come back for him later, my lord?”

“Throw several buckets of cold water on him and try to wake him.” Simon’s heavy footsteps plodded away from the cell. “If that doesn’t rouse him, then we’ll wait and try again later.”

Nicholas had positioned himself so his back was facing the wall. He couldn’t let them see that he had salve on his wounds. Not only would that implicate his mother, but the guards would realize his wounds weren’t festering, were in fact beginning to heal. He didn’t know how that was possible, but the salve was like nothing he’d ever experienced and had even helped ease the pain.

He could only think of one person who had given his mother such a potent medicine. Lady Marian Durham. She was growing more renowned throughout the area for her medicines and cures. Perhaps she’d learned of his fate and had delivered the gift to his mother.

Whatever the case, he was still weak, but he wasn’t lying at heaven’s gates the way he had been yesterday when his angel made her appearance.

As the door closed and darkness fell back over him, he pushed up to his elbows. If only he could figure out a way topick the lock on the cell door. But he had nothing useful or small enough to fit into the keyhole.

He was stuck and would have to wait for the guards to return with the water. When they opened the door to wake him, could he overcome them? Or would he do better to wait until they came for him later in the day? If he did, he would afford himself a few more hours of healing to regain his strength.

The truth was, none of his planning could come to fruition if Simon kept using his mother to manipulate him.

His only hope was that his angel would make another appearance and lend him her aid.

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