Page 86 of Stay with Me

Nicholas still hadn’t freed himself from the reins tied around his hands. “You are my wife. And she will respect you.”

“Simon. Will he live through the illness?”

“My mother went in to tend to him. He was delirious with fever and did not recognize her.”

“Then not only is she generous, but she is kinder than I am. After seeing the torture Simon inflicted upon you as well as the people of Devil’s Bend, I would have let him die alone.”

Nicholas was silent for several heartbeats. “I also.”

If she’d thought her relationship with Dawson was rocky, it was nothing compared to what Nicholas had experienced with Simon.

She wanted to stand up, walk over to Nicholas, and comfort him. What he’d experienced during the last day had to have been horrifying.

Yet, with the risk of the plague, the situation was already precarious enough, and she couldn’t make it worse. Her relief at seeing Nicholas again, her growing love for him, the aching attraction, the undeniable chemistry—she had to contain it. For now. It was best for them both if she did.

~ 33 ~

Nicholas brought his horseto a gradual halt, trying to ignore the faint pounding of a headache. He didn’t want to awaken Sybil, but they’d reached the outskirts of Devil’s Bend, and he needed to dismount and put some distance between them. He would do better at resisting temptation if she wasn’t pressed up against him, her entire beautiful body just begging him to explore it.

Thankfully, she’d slept for almost the entire rest of the ride. And though he’d wanted to bend in and kiss her regardless of the consequences, the memory of her nearly dead on the dungeon floor had stopped him. He needed to minimize how much he touched her. He wasn’t naïve about the spread of the disease. People could catch it even without physical contact. But kissing her was out of the question. As was all the other intimacy he wanted.

During their break from riding a couple of hours ago, he’d almost lost all his reserves. Saint’s blood, he’d been undone when she’d placed his hand on her chest and seemed to give him leave to take his pleasure with her.

Even now, just thinking about the moment made his body heat with need. He was, after all, only a man. She was his wife. And she’d never looked more enticing than she did in the emerald gown that matched her eyes. A part of him wanted to throw all caution aside, carry her to their cottage, and spend the day in bed with her.

“No.” He admonished himself harshly, even as she began to stir. If he survived the plague, he would remain strong and waitfor the right moment when he knew he wasn’t being selfish. Only then would he tell her of his love and show his devotion to her body.

As he slipped down, he lifted her with him.

Her eyes flitted open, the green clear and calm and rested. “Are we stopping again so soon?”

“We are here.”

At his pronouncement, she strained to free herself from his hold, as though she was embarrassed to be seen in his arms by the villagers.

She needn’t have worried. No one was paying them any heed. Usually busy at midmorning, the village appeared deserted, except for the livestock. The sheep grazed on the new thick grass. The oxen and the cows and goats were penned up and seemed content enough.

Wisps of smoke rose from the holes in the thatched roofs of the remaining cottages. The rubble from the homes that had burned to the ground had been separated. Anything salvageable sat in one pile—including ashes for soap making. The rest had been pushed into heaps waiting to be carted off or buried.

The silence and stillness did not bode well.

Sybil struggled against him again, giving him no choice but to lower her to her feet. She wobbled as she gained her bearing.

He steadied her and was tempted to gather her into his arms once more. But she straightened herself and studied the barren town just as he had, her keen eyes not missing a detail. “The plague is here, isn’t it?”

“’Twould appear so.”

“What should we do?”

“You must stay here on the outskirts of the village away from the sickness.”

“And will you do the same?”

“I shall assist those too ill to care for themselves.” He’d contemplated heading on to Canterbury to observe firsthand how the city fared. In fact, when he hadn’t been thinking of Sybil, his thoughts had centered on the battle that had been waged in the dark hours of the night. Had Lord Clayborne’s army prevailed? Or had the French launched an attack against Canterbury?

However, as much as he wanted to ride out and assist Lord Clayborne, the king’s men, and all the other knights who had rallied to defend their land, to do so would only risk spreading the plague. For now, he had to stay here and do his best to aid those already languishing.

“If you intend to care for the ill, then I do too.” She lifted her chin and flashed defiant eyes at him, giving him a look that only made him want to claim her mouth and ravage it.

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