As he studied her, his eyes turned watery behind his spectacles. He cleared his throat before forcing a smile. “I’m excavating the closet off the entryway.”
He’d arrived at the same conclusion—that she needed another dose of holy water in order to fully return to the present. And now he was scrambling to find an ampulla in the vault in order to save her. She didn’t know how he’d managed to get a crew of workers there at such short notice, but it was too late. She wouldn’t last long enough for him to excavate the vault. Besides, even if he managed to get it cleaned out today, there was no guarantee he’d locate another ampulla there.
His smile wobbled. “You hang on tight. Keep fighting, and we’ll find a way to save you in two ticks.”
“Marian is going to live.” Ellen smoothed back Marian’s hair, even as tears continued to trail down her cheeks.
Marian glanced at the doctor and nurse.
As though sensing Marian’s need for privacy, Harrison spoke a few words to them, and they stepped into the hallway.
As soon as they were out of hearing range, Marian forced the location out. “St. George’s.”
“St. George’s?” Harrison watched Marian’s face expectantly.
Digging deep, she summoned enough strength to speak again. “Tower.”
“St. George’s Tower, yes?”
She blinked in answer.
“So that was your hideous carving on the piece of clay?”
She tried to nod.
“It’s a good thing you’re a brilliant scientist and not an artist.” Although he maintained a smile, the merriment in his tone was strained.
Marian held his gaze for a long moment, hoping he could sense her charge to save Ellen.
“Many thanks, love. You know I’ll do everything I possibly can.” His voice was low and raw and filled with an agony that confirmed what she’d begun to suspect—Harrison was in love with her sister. Now it was up to him to save Ellen.
Blackness began to push at the corners of her mind like floodwaters waiting to overflow. She switched her attention to Ellen. Marian would never be able to look into her sister’s eyes again. This was it. She held Ellen’s gaze and mustered the energy of a dying soldier readying for one last charge. “I love you.”
Then her lashes fell. Somewhere she heard Ellen release a cry of protest. But Marian had no more strength to hold back the murky waves that had been threatening. They flowed over her, submerging and dragging her along where they would.
~ 31 ~
“BROTHER.” Christina’s soft-spoken voice came from above Will where he stabbed the earth in an endless battle. “I have brought you and your servants something to quench your thirst.”
Will combed his hair out of his eyes to see Christina kneeling on the mound of dirt at the mouth of the trench, a leather jug in hand.
Her eyes were kind and compassionate, and her white veil and wimple always added to her serenity.
If only he could have just a scrap of her peace, he’d take it. But all he could think about was the life ebbing from his beautiful, vibrant wife.
Was he on an impossible mission? Would his time be better spent at her side during her last breaths?
“Let them drink first.” He gave a curt nod toward Thad digging behind him and then at Johnny above, tugging up another bucket of soil.
Christina handed the jug to Johnny, who collapsed wearily on the ground as he quenched his thirst. Thad leaned on the handle of his hoe, awaiting his turn.
Will didn’t break his digging and shoveling until Thad finished and thrust the jug at him. Only then did Will pause, drinking gratefully, letting the coolness of the well water wash away his doubts. He had to keep going, keep searching.
“Thank you.” He handed the container back to Christina.
She held her arms at her sides, refusing to take the water. “You can’t blame yourself again.”
Her simple statement was an anvil striking the perfect blow. He wanted to sink to his knees in despair. Instead he gripped the winding root of the ash tree to hold himself upright.
“You give of your love freely without holding anything back for yourself.” She leaned down and spoke softly so that only he was privy to her words. “In the end such love costs you much.”
Aye, it did indeed. He felt as though he’d had his soul ripped from his chest.
“Remember, the Almighty Father says, ‘There is a time for everything, a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot.’ You must do all you can to plant and sow and help the seeds grow. But you cannot blame yourself when God ordains that the harvest be reaped.”
Had God ordained the harvest be reaped with Marian? He prayed it was not so. His love for her pulsed through his blood, strong and deep and unstoppable. And he wanted many more years with her, to plant and sow that love in their relationship.
Christina pressed a hand to his cheek. “Do not hold yourself accountable for something only God can control.”
Christina knew he’d held himself accountable for Thomas’s death. Was he in danger of doing that again now with Marian?
He guzzled more water before passing the jug along to Thad. When the men finished drinking again, Will nodded his thanks to Christina. Her words had brought him a grain of comfort even if they hadn’t lessened the sharp ache in his chest at the prospect of losing Marian.
Even so, it was past time to release Thad and Johnny from the task at hand. He gave the two a nod. “You may go home. I shall finish the task alone.”
Neither Thad nor Johnny made a move to leave.
“I can no longer impose upon you.”
Thad swiped at the sweat on his forehead but then wrapped his fingers around his hoe. “I have no wish to go, sire.”
Will could admit he’d let his anger toward Thad fester, both for allowing Wat Tyler into Chesterfield Park and for permitting Marian stay behind instead of going to the Continent. But perhaps Thad had been justified on both scores. At the very least, once again, the man was proving his loyalty.
“I have no wish to leave either, milord.” Johnny sat back on his heels and watched Will solemnly.
Will swallowed hard past a sudden lump in his throat and hoped his eyes conveyed his loyalty to them in return.
Christina started to walk away but then stopped. “I wanted to give you this.” She fumbled through the slit in her habit for her pocket. “It may mean nothing, but as you were digging this afternoon, I pondered if perhaps it contains water from the original well Marian described.”
When she lifted it, Will’s knees weakened, and he nearly collapsed in the trench.
“’Tis a very old flask of holy water I found in the apothecary two days ago as I was organizing all the items that had been unearthed and overturned during the attack.”
Will scrambled up the dirt wall, his legs and arms hardly able to support him. Why hadn’t Christina come to him with it right away? She’d heard the news of his recovery from holy water and had asked him about it when he’d first arrived. But apparently she didn’t know she was holding an original St. Thomas ampulla. He likely wouldn’t have known either if not for Marian.
“From what I can surmise”—Christina shook the flask—“it has a scant amount in it, probably not enough to help even a wee babe. But mayhap you would like to take it anyway?”