When he reached the top, he dropped to his knees in front of Christina and held out his hands for the St. Thomas ampulla, identical to the ones he’d found in the vault. He didn’t know how much holy water Marian had given him to cure him of his wounds. But he had to try giving her the contents of the ampulla, even if it was only a drop. It was his last option.
Christina laid the ampulla in his outstretched hands. For a second, he closed his eyes to blink back a surge of relief. Then in an instant, he was on his feet and sprinting through the woods to the stables with nary a word of explanation, praying he made it to Marian ere it was too late.
* * *
Will flung open the bedchamber door, not caring that it slammed against the wall and startled the servants. His breathing was ragged, and his chest burned from the haste he’d made in returning to Chesterfield Park.
He strode into the room with thudding steps. He only made it halfway into the chamber before the downcast eyes and somberness of the servants halted him.
With a glance at Marian’s unmoving form, he froze. “Is she—?” He couldn’t make himself say the word.
The woman standing next to Marian bowed her head lower in acknowledgment of what Will had left unsaid.
“No.” Anger and fear rose to strangle him like a hangman’s noose. He fought against the choking hold. He hadn’t struggled so hard over the past three days to stop now.
He broke the icy bonds and crossed to the bed. He dropped to the edge beside her and uncorked the ampulla. With the tips of his trembling fingers, he touched her lips, feeling lingering warmth. Maybe she wasn’t gone yet. Maybe there was still hope.
“Lift Lady Marian’s head.” He beckoned briskly to the closest maidservant. The woman immediately did his bidding whilst Will placed the ampulla against Marian’s half-open mouth. He forced his hand to remain steady and then emptied the drops, making sure they went down her throat before allowing the maidservant to settle Marian in the bed.
“Come back to me, Marian. Come back.” He waited, staring at Marian’s pale face. He wasn’t sure what to expect, what to look for, but he prayed for some sign she would recover, that the holy water would heal her, that he hadn’t been too late.
Minutes passed and naught happened. Finally, defeat overpowered him, penetrating his chest and soul in one fell thrust. “Please.” His voice was strained as he spoke to the servants. “I need to be alone.”
Their shuffling footsteps crossed the room. At the click of the door shutting behind them, he dropped his head into his hands. Hot tears wet his palms. Mayhap he couldn’t blame himself for Marian’s death as Christina had admonished. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give way to the sorrow ravaging his insides.
He groped for her limp hand and brought it to his lips. “I have loved you, Marian, as I have loved no other.” He kissed her palm. “The time of loving you was too short. I would that I had a lifetime to show you my love of your body, soul, and mind. But I am a better man for having loved you at all.”
His whisper cracked. And he could do naught more than lay his head against her hand and let his tears anoint her. She would take them with her to her grave, along with his heart.
~ 32 ~
“COME BACK TO ME.” The soft words floated in Marian’s consciousness. “I have loved you, Marian, as I have loved no other.”
She tried to grasp them, but they fluttered beyond her reach. Instead, the whispers of angels at the brink of heaven called to her. In paradise, she would finally taste of the real Tree of Life, the one talked about in the book of Revelation, the tree that would enable her to live in heaven for eternity.
But she couldn’t keep herself from chasing after that wafting declaration. I have loved you, Marian, as I have loved no other. It blew ahead of her, taunting her, tugging her away from the cloudy vision of heaven and pointing her back to earth.
Marian inhaled a strangely contented breath only to catch a whiff of earth and woodsmoke—the combination that belonged in the Middle Ages. Her pulse tapped with unexpected anticipation. What had happened? Maybe she wasn’t dying after all.
Her eyes flew open to darkness. She couldn’t see anything—no blue lights from monitors or cell phones or alarm clocks. The night was too quiet to belong to the present with only the distant call of an owl and croaking of a toad. And the air was too warm to be the temperature-controlled rooms of twenty-first-century Chesterfield Park.
Her pulse tapped again, this time with excitement. She was back in the past. How had this happened? Was it possible her dad’s speculation about dying in both eras was wrong? Or did love have the power to give life, even more so than holy water or modern medicine?
“Will?” She sensed his presence nearby even before she heard the creak of the chair where he sat. His fingers tightened around hers, and she was suddenly conscious he was holding her hand.
His other hand moved to her forehead, then to her cheek.
“It is you.” Joy pulsed through her as sweet as honey.
“And who else would it be, wife?” His voice drew nearer and was thick with emotion.
Her eyesight began to adjust to the darkness of the room, the starlight providing the faintest glow, so that she could see the outline of his face near hers.
“I thought I died.”
“I think you did.”
“Then how am I here?” She lifted her hand to his forehead and the scar above his eyebrow, then drew her fingers down his cheek along his solid jaw to his chin and up to his lips, needing to make sure he was really there.
“Christina found an old ampulla at the priory like those from the vault. I thought I was too late. But within the hour of giving it to you, you began to breathe normally again.”
Marian attempted to comprehend the situation. She’d died in the present. There was no doubt about that. But Will had given her the holy water at just the right moment to prevent her from dying in 1381. Or perhaps the miracle cure had drawn her back from the dead. Was that even possible?
Now that she was here, would she need another dose of the holy water to stay alive? If she had to wager, she guessed she would need more water to secure her body’s place here in 1381. But how would they find more in time?
“At least I have you for a few more days.”
“You have me forever.” He lifted her hand then and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
She fought against the frustration that threatened to compete with the happiness of her reunion. Should she inform him about the uncertainty of her condition?
“What is it?” She could feel his muscles tensing.
She had to tell him. He deserved to know. “The dose of holy water you gave me woke me from my coma. But I suspect I’ll need another in order to live—”
“Then you shall have it.” His words came so quickly and decisively she wasn’t sure how to respond. Had Christina found two ampullae? Perhaps even now Will had it in the room.
As though sensing her questions, he squeezed her fingers gently. “I have discovered the ancient wellspring.”
She pushed up slightly. “At St. Sepulchre?”
“Thad and the stable boy helped me dig in the spot you showed to Christina under the ash tree. After I rode away with the ampulla, Thad and Johnny kept digging.”