Lyn Stone by Bride of Trouville

Author:Bride of Trouville
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Despite the overly civilized dignity Edouard had exhibited during the first weeks Anne had known him, the man proved a beast of the lowest order when confined to bed.

Anne cursed the day he fell ill for more than one reason. True, it had nearly spelled her own doom, but that was the least of it. For two days after her acquittal, she had nursed him through the fever and remained at his side even when she could scarcely hold her eyes open to tend him. She had bathed his heated flesh, listened to invective wild enough to scorch her ears, and suffered several hard knocks when he thrashed about with night terrors. Now that he was out of danger and knew exactly what he was doing, his rantings annoyed her.

“Open your mouth and drink this, Edouard!” she ordered brusquely, holding the cup to his lips. “You’ll get no pudding if you continue to refuse!”

“I am sick of the thrice-cursed pudding!” He shoved the potion aside. “And take this vile stuff away. It stinks like the pit of a garderobe! I am fine, I tell you.”

“Child!” Anne accused, thoroughly sick of his petulance. She slammed the cup on the table with a savage thunk. “Die, then, and see if I care!” She plopped down in the chair beside the bed and covered her eyes with her hands.

To her horror, her entire body began to shake with great, gulping sobs. She poured forth all the anguish and misery she had not let loose in years. Unable to stop, she hugged herself and leaned forward, rocking, the keening sounds she made echoing through her head.

Suddenly arms surrounded her, holding her close. “Hush! Oh, Anne, do not do this! I will drink it! See? There, it is done. Delicious, I swear. For God’s sake, will you stop weeping!”

Anne no longer cared that her wailing had gone beyond control, the release almost too heady to bear. Edouard shouted for Meg.

Through the blur of tears, she noted that he crouched beside her naked, his hands stroking her, trying to soothe.

“Cover yourself, my lord!” Meg ordered as she scurried in. “You’ll catch your death and then what? We’ve six others down with your poison today, and all of them needing my attention.”

“Oh, Meg, I am sorry,” Anne moaned, now feeling foolish that her outburst had dragged Meg from her other duties. But even so, she felt lighter in heart for it.

“Put her to bed,” Edouard ordered Meg sharply. “See she gets some rest. I do not want her in here again until she is completely well!”

Meg sniffed in disgust. “Until you are completely well, would be my wish! Will you return to your own bed or hang about naked, courting more fever? Men!” With that epithet, she practically shoved Anne from the master chamber and down the hall to her old room.

“You calm yourself now, my lady. I’ll not have you sicken on us, too. That man of yours and the other sick folk below are

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