Chapter Twenty-One

T he storm continued to plummet down from the heavens for nigh unto two days. Elysande had heard Empress Matilda was in a foul mood because the weather was the reason the tourney could not continue. She had specifically planned the entertainment for a reason—actually, for several reasons, although finding Elysande a husband seemed secondary to keeping the empress's people happy during their time of strife. But the rain and the lack of events did not deter those who had traveled far to witness such an event. The empress's people continued to reside inside the castle, in tents pitched nearby, and filled the local inns in the village until such a time when the games could resume.

Elysande was left with time on her hands during the daylight hours. Since Reynard's injury, she had been forbidden to see him, causing her to become not only full of worry but agitated. That others were seeing to his injury plagued her when she wanted to be there for him herself. Surely someone who loved the man could care for him better than his comrades or even a knight who was like his brother.

She had sent Olive out earlier to see what she could learn about the seriousness of Reynard's illness. Servants tended to gossip. Elysande was certain that if any news was circulating within Oxford's walls, her maid would learn the truth of it. A knock upon her chamber door momentarily startled her out of her musings. Olive was returning faster than she expected.

After a call to enter, Olive opened the door and peeked her head inside to ensure they were alone. "He is now inside the castle, milady, in a bedchamber on the floor above you. They say Sir Reynard is ill with a fever and that the wound might be infected."

"And no one bothered to tell me," Elysande fumed whilst picking up the edges of her gown and heading toward the door. "Show me which room. I've had enough of waiting around like I am of no import. This man may become my husband, and I will no longer be treated like I do not have a say in his care."

Elysande marched down the passageway, up the circular turret stairs and down another long corridor until Olive pointed to a room. Kingsley was just leaving, and Elysande went up to him and attempted to see inside Reynard's bedchamber.

"How is he?" she asked when Kingsley blocked her view.

"A fever from the dirty blade. He should recover soon," Kingsley declared but he did not appear convincing.

"Richard was supposed to keep me informed," she announced stamping her foot upon the stone floor beneath her feet.

"Richard has been preoccupied with the demands of an angry empress. I doubt he has had any time to himself let alone to keep everyone informed about how Reynard is feeling," he said looking down upon her.

She pointed to the doorway. "I would think since Reynard is like a brother to Richard, that he would be concerned for his welfare."

"Aye! He is concerned but there is nothing more that can be done other than to wait for the fever to run its course. Richard has already shoved the doctor from this room when he wanted to bleed Reynard… like he has not already lost enough blood," Kingsley replied, running his hand over the back of his neck.

Elysande agreed with such an assessment. "I must needs see him."

Kingsley continued to bar her way into the room. "Sir Reynard is not at his best, my lady. You should wait for another day when he is better."

Her hands went to her hips. "Unless you wish to physically push me away from this room, then I must ask you to step aside, Kingsley," she answered, dropping any formality between them.

"But Lady Elysande—"

"You will not deter me from seeing Reynard. Now, please… move aside, Kingsley, so I can see for myself that I have no cause to worry for his life!"

Kingsley frowned but stepped out of the way, even going so far to open the portal wide so she could see Reynard laying upon his bed from the entrance to the bedchamber. But Elysande was not about to make her determination from the passageway. She stepped into the room. Kingsley made to follow but she took hold of the door and pushed hard on the wood.

"'Tis not seemly you should be alone with him," Kingsley said whilst even Olive's eyes went wide.

"What harm could possibly be done by a sleeping man?" Elysande argued, continuing to try to shut the door and slide the bolt into place.

"Much," Kingsley grumbled, "or else you do not know Norwood well after all."

"I will be fine," she interjected, giving the wood another push. She heard Kingsley curse before the door slammed shut. She did not hesitate to put the bolt in place.

Now that such unpleasantries were out of the way and she finally gained her purpose to see Reynard with her own eyes, she quickly rushed over to the bed. Beads of sweat covered his face and when she placed her fingertips upon his brow, she could feel for herself how hot his skin had become. A basin with water and a cloth stood on the small table next to the bed and she squeezed the excess water from the cloth and began to wipe his brow, his cheeks, and even his chest and arms. She dared not look any farther down than where the linen covered the lower half of his body and only concentrated on the task before her: cooling Reynard down so he might recover.

Minutes turned into hours and her back ached from leaning over his body, yet still she continued on with her ministrations. One moment he was hot, the next he would break out into a cold sweat, and during one of his bouts where he was overheated, he had thrown back the covers and Elysande got a clear view of his entire naked body. She had a moment of hesitation to appreciate the sight of what a fine-looking man he was. Yet in the next instant, she also thought that mayhap she was way over her head in thinking she could be the one to make him well. But she wrestled with the covers as he tossed and turned and finally was able to cover him once again. After this, she would be hard pressed to look at Reynard the same knowing she had seen him in all his glory!

At some point during the night, she had dozed off whilst resting her head on the bed next to him. She had awoken to the feel of his fingers playing with the tresses of her hair. She rubbed her eyes from her slumber and did her best to ascertain his condition. 'Twas difficult considering the only light was from the dying embers in the hearth.

"Elysande," he whispered so softly she could have easily missed him calling out her name.

"Reynard," she answered as she went to light a candle to place near his bedside to get a better view of him. Her hand reached out and she let out a sigh of relief when his skin felt normal to her touch. "Your fever broke."

"You should not be here," he protested as he cleared his throat and pulled at the linen to fully cover his chest.

"Aye, I should and would not allow others see to your care," she replied, pulling the stool closer to the head of the bed.

"What will people think? Especially the empress."

"I do not care what anyone thinks of me. Mayhap if they think I have taken advantage of you, then there would be no need for the games to continue," she teased, offering him a smile.

A grunt left him. "No one would believe such a tale."

Elysande shrugged and then noticed how ragged she must appear. Her sleeves of her gown were rolled up to her elbows, her hair was most likely a tangled mess, and her gown was rumpled from sleeping on a stool. "I am glad you are better, Reynard."

He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Thanks to you, my lady."

"I did not do much other than stay with you and try my best to break your fever," she replied with a blush. Now that he was coherent, she thought she had best take her leave.

"I still offer you my thanks. Now, I must beg you to take your leave and return to your own chamber. I will not have others think poorly of you."

"As you wish." She stood but hesitated to leave his side. She finally bent forward to place a quick kiss upon his lips before making a hasty retreat.

She leaned back upon the door once it closed behind her trying to catch her breath as the vision of Reynard's naked body refused to leave the memories etched in her mind. With fanciful thoughts flitting through her head, she began to make her way back to her own bedchamber to resume her slumber. If she had looked over her shoulder, she would have noticed Gerold Morcant frowning as he watched her leave Reynard's bedchamber.