Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Lockwood Tower

Southwark, London

"I need your help, my lord."

Torran had been sitting in the solar that belonged to his father when he heard those grim words. It was near dawn and he'd been up all night, monitoring the situation with Lady Andia because her fever had rendered her semi-delirious. She was coming in and out of a deep sleep, and when she did have moments of being awake, she spoke nonsense.

Aeron had long since gone to bed, sleeping heavily, as a physic from Candlewick Street in London, who had been brought back by Britt and Stefan, closely tended the ill young woman. Torran had told everyone else to go to bed, also, knowing what a long day it had been, but he had remained awake. Or, at least, he thought he had been awake, but when he heard those words from the physic, his head shot up from the table he'd been sitting at. He'd been dead asleep and didn't even know how he got there.

"Why?" he said, standing up and struggling to stay alert. "What has happened?"

The physic motioned for him to follow. "The lady's fever has grown worse," the man said. He was small and wiry, and smelled like cheese. "You have only a few servants here and your men are sleeping. I need assistance."

Torran rubbed his eyes. "That is because my family does not spend a great deal of time here, so we only have a handful of servants in the house when we are not in residence," he said. "You have failed to tell me what you need."

They were out in the cavernous entry now. Lockwood was built in the shape of a U, with a two-storied entryway and common room, and then a dozen chambers in each wing. The kitchen was under the south wing, a vast complex of rooms that were constantly wet due to the water table from the nearby river, and a great dining hall that faced the placid waters of the Thames. Torran had practically grown up here, so it was the one place he could truly call home. Rubbing his eyes again, he grabbed the physic with one hand before the man could head up the mural stairs.

"Christ upon his mighty throne, man, what do you need from me?" he demanded.

The physic paused. "I need your help with the lady," he said, still trying to get up the stairs. "You have two female servants and one male servant, and I have them quite busy filling a tub with tepid water. I must get the lady into the water and get her fever down."

That woke Torran up immediately, and he began to run up the stairs along with the physic. "Is it that bad?" he asked, concerned.

The physic led him up the stone steps, onto the landing, and turned down the corridor on his right. "Bad enough," he said. "It is quite high."

Torran didn't ask any further questions. He was dressed in the clothing he had traveled in and, in fact, had fought the battle of Kennington in. Stained tunic and all, he was emitting a horrific odor that he himself could smell, but he couldn't be concerned with that at the moment. He was only concerned with Andia and her illness, and when he entered the chamber that his mother usually occupied, he could see the activity going on.

There was a fire in the hearth, keeping the chamber nice and cozy. It was an opulent room, given his mother's love of fine things, from the silks on the bed to the precious glass windows. He had specifically chosen this chamber for Andia because it was very comfortable, and as he looked about, he could see so many things that reminded him of his mother. She was a caring woman, and he knew for a fact that she would have wanted a distressed young woman to be comfortable and well tended.

Near the hearth, two women were slowly pouring water into a copper tub that was lined with muslin. The physic went straight to them and stuck his hand into the water to test the temperature. Deeming it appropriate, he went over to the table where his satchel was open and his medicaments were spread out over the tabletop. He selected an earthenware phial that turned out to be oil, and he poured it into the tub.

The heavy scent of peppermint and cloves filled the air.

Torran was still standing back by the door, waiting for the physic to give him some direction. His attention inevitably moved to the bed where Andia was lying on her side, curled up. He could only see her back. As he was looking at her, the only male servant at Lockwood entered the chamber with a bucket full of steaming water. The physic quickly waved him over and a little of it was splashed into the tub. Once that was done, he had the servant set the bucket down and leave the chamber. When the door closed, the physic motioned to Torran.

"Bring her over, my lord," he said. "Quickly, now. There is no time to waste."

Torran didn't hesitate. He went over to the bed and carefully rolled Andia onto her back. She was flushed and half awake, dressed in a sleeping shift. He hesitated.

"Should you not remove her from her clothing?" he asked.

The physic continued to motion to him. "Nay," he said. "Bring her over. Put her straight into the water."

Bending over, Torran scooped Andia into his arms, holding her against his broad chest. Had the situation not been so dire, he might have relished the feel of her against him. It was extremely rare that he was this close to a woman. But in this case, there was no romance involved. He could feel that Andia was hot even through his clothing. Taking her over to the tub, he carefully lowered her into the waiting water.

The moment she touched it, her eyes flew open.

"Nay!" she said, panic in her expression as the tepid water closed in over her body. "Nay, I do not have time. I must go."

She was clinging to Torran, trying to use him to pull herself out just as he was trying to settle her in. He ended up on his knees, forcing her to stay in the water.

"My lady," he said calmly, "there is nowhere to go. You are not needed anywhere."

She looked up at him, and he could see that she was a bit dazed. "You do not understand," she said. "Aeron has been naughty again and Papa will blame me."

He could see that this fever, which had come on quickly, was affecting her thinking. Rather than argue with her, or try to explain the way of things, he simply gave in.

"I will explain it to your father," he said, settling down next to the tub because she refused to let him go. "And I will keep watch of Aeron. He will not misbehave anymore, I swear it."

Andia gazed at him a moment, focused on him as the physic and a maid began to wipe her neck and arms down with the lukewarm water. "You are very nice," she said. "Who are you?"

"I am Sir Torran, my lady."

"Torran," she repeated as if she'd heard the name but couldn't quite place it. Then she blinked and began to look around the room. "Where am I?"

"You are at my family's home, my lady."

"Where is my brother?"

"He was helping with the horses the last I saw of him."

She was still looking at the walls of the chamber. "Is the battle over?"

"It is."

"Where am I?"

"At my family's home."

"Where is it?"

"Near London."

He was very calm as he spoke to her, so she seemed to relax as well. She settled back against the tub, sighing heavily as she was gently swabbed. The physic dragged a cold, wet cloth across her face, roughly, and she sputtered, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. When she stopped rubbing and focused on him again, her expression changed.

"Torran," she said. "You are taking me to Henry, aren't you?"

Suddenly, she was lucid again, but that had been happening on and off since they came to Lockwood. Torran was still holding on to her just as she was holding on to him, and for a moment, they simply stared at one another. She didn't let him go and he didn't let her go. After a brief hesitation, he nodded.

"I am, my lady," he said quietly.

She blinked and started looking around, orienting herself. "I remember now," she said, rubbing her eyes again. "I… I thought I was dreaming, I think. I felt as if I was dreaming. I was dreaming about Aeron lighting fire to the soldiers and—"

"He burned soldiers?" Torran interrupted her, aghast.

Andia leaned her head back against the tub. "It is not as it sounds," she said wearily. "He would find men sleeping on duty and put straw in the soles of their boots and light the straw on fire. No one was ever really burned, but Papa would swat Aeron for it."

Torran pushed her hair out of the way as the maid swabbed her neck and shoulder. It was an incredibly intimate gesture, and a gentle one, but he did it without thought. It needed to be done so he did it. But he was still holding on to her, his enormous hands on her upper arms as she gripped his forearms.

"I would imagine your father was right to do so," he said. "But I am surprised to hear it because your brother seems as if he's not known much discipline in his life."

She smiled faintly. "You knew that," she said. "You spanked him for it."

He snorted softly. "I did," he said, his smile fading. "He deserved it."

Torran's mind drifted back to Yancey and that terrible day. He'd been able to push it out of his mind for a while, but now it was difficult not to get caught up in the grief of it again. There was a building maelstrom of emotions swirling around in his chest because something was happening at this moment, something he couldn't quite describe, but he knew it had to do with the lady who was still clinging to him. She was causing the emotions. Her hands were hot, searing the flesh on his forearm, but he let her hold on to him because it seemed to him that she needed something to cling to at the moment.

This lady of lost dreams.

This lady who was increasing stirring something within him.

"He did deserve it," Andia said, breaking into his train of thought. "I told you that I was grateful for the mercy you showed toward him. He's fortunate a spanking was all he received. Do you have children, Sir Torran?"

One of the female servants poured a bucket of cold water into the tub and Andia gasped, digging her fingers into his arms. As the physic instructed the girl to bring more hot water and the swabbing continued, now wetting Andia's scalp, Torran shook his head.

"Nay," he said, trying to keep her distracted because she wasn't particularly happy with the cold water. "No children."

Andia's face was growing pale, the rosiness gone from her cheeks as the tepid bath did its job to help bring her temperature down. "Surely you must be married," Andia said, gasping uncomfortably when the physic wiped her face with cold water again. "God's Bones, does he have to do that?"

Torran eyed the physic as he answered. "Your fever is quite high," he said. "But he will refrain from wiping your face like that again."

He said it loud enough for the physic to hear it, and the man simply shrugged. But Andia was beginning to shiver because the water was growing colder.

"I am truly sorry to have been so much trouble," she said. "I'm certain you have far better things you could be doing that watching over me, but I am grateful for you kindness."

He simply nodded, studying her, thinking how different she seemed from the woman he had seen last night. That stubborn, almost spiteful, streak was perhaps something out of character for her, because she didn't seem like that the first time he'd met her. Truth be told, he did have far better things he could be doing and could have easily had one of the other Six watch out for her.

But like she were a guilty pleasure, he wanted to do it himself.

"You are no trouble," he said, looking to the physic. "Her mind seems clearer. Is she better?"

The physic put a leathery hand on Andia's forehead and then again on her neck. "She is cooler," he said. "But if we remove her from this bath, I fear the fever will rage again."

"You cannot keep her here forever."

The physic shook his head. "Nay," he said. "But I am brewing a potion made with willow bark. It will help and she will be able to sleep well."

"Good," Torran said, returning his attention to Andia. "Did you hear that? He is going to provide you with a potion to help your fever."

Andia nodded wearily. "And then to Henry?"

"When you are well."

"And then what will you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will you remain and watch over my brother and me?"

He shook his head. "I will return to my regular duties."

Another maid appeared and dumped a half of a bucket of hot water into the bath, causing Andia to yelp. She very nearly climbed out, and would have had Torran and the physic not pushed her down again. But Torran noticed something he'd not noticed before, and that was the fact that her sleeping shift was transparent because of the water. He looked up to find beautiful, full breasts in his face with dark, puckered nipples. He pushed her back into the tub but wasn't entirely sure he was going to recover from that sight. Therefore, he struggled to distract himself, holding her down in the water again as the physic put a cool cloth behind her neck.

"I will return to my regular duties, which include helping Henry plan his travel," he said. "Henry's private guard travels with him everywhere, so there are routes I must plot and destinations I must send word to on Henry's behalf."

Andia's gaze lingered on him. "Then I will not see you again," she said. "I am glad I had the chance to thank you for your kindness in a difficult situation. I cannot thank you enough."

"You have done so repeatedly," he said. "I know you are grateful."

"And now you have me in your very own home when you should have taken me to Henry already," she said. "It is a beautiful home."

He smiled weakly. "You have not even seen all of it."

"This room is beautiful," she said, looking off to her left, into the bulk of the chamber. "I have seen enough to know that. Whose is it?"

"My mother's."

She looked at him. "Your mother is still alive?"

"She is."

"Is she here?"

He shook his head. "Nay," he said. "My parents live at Bexhill Castle."

Andia pondered that. "Bexhill," she said. "I have heard of it before. It is near Hastings?"

He nodded. "You know of it?"

"I think I heard my father speak of it," she said. "He had to pass through Bexhill to get to Eastbourne, where merchant ships sometimes dock. Kennington has cattle that my father has been known to sell to the French. What becomes of my father's herds now?"

She seemed to be relaxing, so Torran loosened his grip on her. "Canterbury remained at Kennington to ensure everything is handled properly," he said. "He will ensure the herds are taken care of."

"You mean confiscated by Henry."

"I do not know, my lady. That is the truth."

Andia didn't push him. She was feeling weak but better as the bath did what it was supposed to do. Her fever wasn't getting any worse and she was surprisingly clearheaded now. Earlier, as she'd told Torran, she felt as if she were in a dream. She wasn't quite awake and she wasn't quite asleep. But she was fully awake now, and the physic left her long enough to collect the brew that was steaming over the fire. The willow bark had a bitter, tangy taste to it but she drank it down as instructed, making a face as she handed the cup back to the physic.

"Keep her in this tub a little while longer, my lord," the man said to Torran. "Let the potion do its work."

He returned to his medicaments as the female servants wandered away, gathering mops to soak up the water that had spilled out from the tub. Andia sat back against the tub, eyes closed, with her hands over her wet chest and her knees raised. Her hair was wet from the physic having poured water over her head in an attempt to control her fever, so she simply sat there and shivered.

All the while, Torran was watching her.

He'd done nothing but watch her since he came into the chamber, and the more he sat with her, the more curiosity he felt about this woman. Also, the more comfort. He wasn't comfortable with women by nature and, in fact, had known to be downright awkward with them. But at this moment, in this setting, he didn't feel awkward.

He felt entranced.

"If I can find a lute, will you play something for me?" he asked after a moment.

Her eyes opened. "Now?"

"When you are feeling better."

"Certainly, if you wish," she said. "Don't you sing? Some men do, you know."

He shook his head immediately. "Not me."

"Not at all?"

"I sound like a bull calling to its mate."

She grinned. "Surely you have some hidden talent," she said. "Knights are usually trained in things like that."

He averted his gaze, an embarrassed smile playing on his lips. "Trained, aye, but if one has no talent, then he is doomed to humiliation," he said. "I have no talent for such things, if you must know. My talent lay in military tactics and battles and mathematics."

She looked at him, interested. "Mathematics?" she said. "Truly?"

"Truly. Latin and biblical studies, also."

"Then you are a scholar."

He nodded as if she'd just hit the nail on the head. "Now you understand me," he said. "My mind is full of other things. There is no room for singing and dancing."

"Torran?"

Someone was knocking on the chamber door, calling his name, and Torran looked up to see Kent and Jareth standing in the doorway. Leaving the lady in her cooling bath, he stood up and went over to them.

"I thought you two were sleeping," he said. "It is still very early. Why are you awake?"

"Because the rain has stopped and we want to get back to London before it starts again," Kent said. Then he looked over Torran's shoulder at the lady in the tub near the hearth. "How is Lady Andia?"

Torran glanced back at her. "Her fever was high," he said. "That is a tepid bath you see, ordered by the physic. He has also given her a potion to bring the fever down, so time will tell. She is still quite ill."

"And that is why you should go to Henry personally," Jareth said in a low voice. "We have been speaking on this subject and the general consensus is that you should be the one to tell Henry about the lady. Stefan has volunteered to remain here until she is well and then he will bring her on to London, but there is really no reason for you to remain, Torran. Henry will want to hear about Kennington and Ashford from your lips."

Torran felt as if he'd been caught in something. He wasn't sure what, but his immediate reaction was to refuse to go. He didn't want to leave the lady. He wanted to stay here until she was well, but then, he was equally paranoid that Kent and Jareth might be able to read his refusal in his expression. He didn't want his men to know that there was something about the woman that intrigued him.

That would be a scandal worthy of the the very word.

The Guard of Six didn't get mixed up with women. It was a little-known fact that women were the entire reason they'd come into Henry's fold—every single one of them had issues with women in the past, issues solved or brokered by Henry, that put them in his debt. Therefore, one of them having an interest toward any woman was simply not done.

And that included Torran.

This was a situation he never thought he'd find himself in.

"While I understand what you are saying, I am not leaving the lady," he said flatly. "Her health is a direct reflection on me and I will not leave it to the management of anyone else. Henry asked for hostages and I will give him hostages, but I need to make sure she is healthy before I deliver her to him. I'd be a poor knight, indeed, if I cared so little for Henry's directive that I would allow a valuable hostage to die under my care."

They had no reason not to believe that his desire to remain at Lockwood with the lady was purely duty oriented. Torran had a better sense of duty than most, but Jareth wasn't so certain this was something Henry would want.

"I do not know about this, Torran," he said, scratching his head. "Henry will want to talk to you."

Torran shook his head firmly. "Not until that woman is healthy enough to travel," he said, jabbing a finger in Andia's direction. "If she dies, Henry's faith in me will be diminished and I cannot stand for that. Is that clear?"

That sounded like the Torran they both knew—concerned with himself, concerned with Henry—so they both nodded the affirmative.

"Very well," Jareth said. "I will tell him everything. But what if he wants to come to Lockwood and see for himself?"

"Then I invite him to come," Torran said. "Henry is more than welcome to come to the lady. But it may be days before the lady can come to Henry."

Jareth acknowledged that statement and headed off, leaving Kent behind, his gaze lingering on the woman in the tub. "Do you really need to play nursemaid, Torran?" he asked. Out of the entire Guard of Six, Torran was the closest to Kent, so the man could speak freely. "Stefan has already volunteered to remain with her and, quite frankly, refuses to leave even when the rest of us do. I think his father has told him to stay with the lady and her brother until she is delivered to Henry."

Torran pursed his lips irritably. "You mean that Canterbury wants to ensure she is not mistreated."

"Exactly."

"Does the man honestly think I would do that?"

Kent simply shrugged. Torran didn't have a reputation for brutality with the weaker sex, but he was also known to carry out Henry's orders to the letter.

No matter what they were.

"Well," Torran said, still irritated with Daniel and his paranoia, "Stefan can remain here if he wants, but as soon as the lady is well, we are off to Westminster. I will see you there."

Kent nodded, following Jareth's retreat. When he vanished down the corridor, Torran returned his attention to the chamber. He could see that Andia was sleeping against the side of the tub, which probably wasn't the best thing for her should she slide down into the water and end up drowning herself, so he shut the door and went on the hunt for something to dry her off with. The servants had already brought an enormous drying towel, however, one that belonged to his mother, and it was the physic and the female servants who got Andia out of the tub, stripped her out of her wet sleeping shift, and then proceeded to swaddle her up in the towel and get her back to the bed.

All the while, Torran stood out of the way, watching the situation, turning his head away when the lady needed privacy, but returning to his vigilant stance when she was back in bed and covered up. He ended up sitting in a window seat, watching everything from afar, and thinking what a damn liar he was.

He was lying to everyone, and possibly even himself, about his true motives.

The sun was beginning to rise and the rain had moved away, leaving a soggy, cold world outside. In the great yard below, he could see the Guard of Six and about half of Henry's soldiers departing for London. Jareth, who was usually in command when Torran wasn't available, had left behind about twenty royal soldiers, the Penden carriage, and Stefan.

With a heavy sigh, Torran leaned back against the wall, feeling his fatigue. The physic had Andia back in bed, and down in the bailey there were a few servants moving about as the day began. Horses needed to be fed and other chores attended to. Torran's father didn't even keep soldiers here because the manse itself was so fortified that the servants didn't need any. Lockwood, the manse built by his great-grandfather with permission from Henry II. He was also the man who first held the title Earl of Bexhill, a title that now belonged to Torran's father and someday would belong to him, God willing. Lockwood was a place where the family had always felt comfortable, including Torran. But he wasn't feeling that now.

He was feeling uncertain.

And the young woman sleeping in the bed several feet away from him was the reason why.

What are you getting yourself into, you idiot?

Whatever it was, he knew instinctively that it wasn't good.