Lady's Ransom (The First Argentines) by Jeff Wheeler

Author:Jeff Wheeler [Wheeler, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2021-09-07T04:00:00+00:00

When consciousness returned, it was sluggish and fleeting. He tried to force himself to move, but only managed to rip a blanket away before falling again on the bed.

“He’s waking, my lady,” said a familiar voice. The barber, he realized. Matthew.

“Ransom? Can you hear me?” Constance asked.

He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry. When he tried to sit up again, he felt her warm hand against the bare skin of his chest, pushing him back down. “Don’t struggle, Ransom. Let it happen gradually. Your wounds were very deep.”

He tried to summon some moisture in his mouth and failed. His eyes opened, and he saw the barber’s and the duchess’s faces hovering over him.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

He nodded, and she fetched a cup, propping his neck a little so he could drink. It was morning, and he heard birds chirping outside. He’d slept through the night. He felt some of the liquid spill down the side of his neck, but Constance mopped it with her sleeve.

“Guivret,” he managed to say. “Did you know?”

“Yes.” Her voice was soft, her tone sad.

He shut his eyes again, wanting to swear in anger. He clenched his fists instead. They’d removed his hauberk and his shirt, leaving his pants and boots on, as well as his scabbard. He felt his body healing from the magic, but the soreness of the cuts still troubled him.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the barber looking at him with pity. “I bandaged your wounds as well as I could,” he said. “The lady bid me not stitch them. She said they’d heal on their own, although they were severe. That’s all I can do, my lady.”

“You’ve done enough,” Constance said and nodded for him to go. She sat at the bedside.

When the barber was gone, Ransom turned his neck and looked at her. “Why? Why did you send Guivret if you knew he’d be captured?”

“It wasn’t my choice, Ransom.”

“Wasn’t it? If I had gone alone . . .”

She lowered her head with sadness. “The Fountain had a reason for him to be there. I don’t know what purpose, but I knew he would not come back. If I told you, you would not have taken him.”

“She could kill him!” Ransom said, his emotions trembling on the verge of rage.

Constance traced her finger along his neck. “As she tried to kill you. I know what she’s capable of, Ransom . . . and that this pains you even more because you know what it’s like to be a hostage. I am sorry.”

Her words cut him to the quick. Yes, he knew those feelings. And he didn’t want Guivret or anyone else to suffer as he had. He was the lord of a mesnie. It was his duty to safeguard his knights. Yet he knew some would fall in battle serving him. It was a heavy burden to carry.

He felt a shiver start. “Where is my shirt?”

She rose from the bed and started toward a little table, where he saw his clothes.

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