The Fifth Knight(119)

Time meant nothing. There was only the dim cabin, the roll of the ship, and her own frantic efforts to keep him breathing, living. But it seemed to be working. Praise God, it seemed to be working.

A loud rap came at the door. “Theodosia?”

Mama. “Yes?”

“You’ve been in there for hours, my blessed. You must let him go now. The good Captain Donne will take care of him.”

“One moment.” Theodosia slipped her dress over her shoulders. She shoved the chest aside and opened the door to her mother.

“Come now,” said Amélie, her face drawn in exhaustion. “We shall pray for his soul together. I have already been doing so.”

“But, Mama, we don’t need to.” Theodosia swallowed the lump of overwhelmed tears in her throat. “I’ve saved him. He’s alive.” She clutched her mother’s hands in joy.

“What?” Amélie thrust her away as if she’d been burned. “You mean to tell me you’ve been in here all of this time with a man?” She cast a horrified glance past Theodosia. “And please do not tell me that man is naked, for if he is, then you have committed mortal sin.”

Theodosia stared at her mother in disbelief. “He’s not just a man. He…he’s Benedict. He’s the man I love, a man who nearly died, and might still, trying to save my life. Your life too.”

“If he drags your soul to hell, he has saved nothing.” Amélie’s nostrils flared in disapproval. “Better he had sunk to the depths of that ocean, or that you had listened to us all when we told you to leave him to — ”

“Mother!” Theodosia’s yell shocked Amélie to silence. “Stop it. Now. Can’t you hear yourself? You never find anything in me except wrongness, sin. Even when we were at Canterbury, when I was too young to want anything other than to please you, to have you love me as a mother should. But you never did. You’re so unyielding, so unforgiving, so…” She threw her arms up, dropped them again. “Cold.”

Amélie turned white. “How can you speak to me so? All I ever wanted was to protect your soul.”

“Because you were so busy concentrating on my soul, you forgot about my heart. Your own heart.” Theodosia put a hand to the door. “You’re not a mother, not to me. You never were.” She slammed it shut before Amélie could say another word.

♦ ♦ ♦

Benedict lay in her arms, in a peaceful, natural sleep. Theodosia stroked his thick dark hair, rejoiced in every strand, drank in every inch of his sleeping features. They’d lain like this for hours, as the ship made its rolling progress. She wished they could stay here forever, cocooned from the world, where it would just be the two of them in warm, sensual bliss.

He stirred and opened his eyes with a smile. “There you are,” he murmured.

“I hadn’t gone anywhere,” she said.

“I dreamt I was being kissed by an angel,” he said.

“Then you must be sorely disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed.” He raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. “Not at all.”

“You should be. I must look a fright.” She waved a rueful hand at her shaved head.

He cupped her face in one large hand. “The angel couldn’t hold a candle to you.” Again, a gentle smile. “And waking with you is better than waking in Paradise.”

“You were nearly there.” She stroked his hand with her own. “I only did what you’d done for me.”

“Have you stolen a cross from me too?” He teased her with a kiss on her forehead.

“No. You’re a heathen, remember?” she teased back.

“And you’re a king’s daughter.” He lay back down next to her and sighed. “We’ll be docking in France soon, won’t we?”

His question needed no explanation. Once they saw Henry, their paths would separate. She’d return to the protection of the crown, hidden from the world, under the pretext of a religious calling. He would live out his own life.

“We still have a couple of hours.” He kissed her softly.

“Then we have time.” She held his gaze, heart fast in her chest. “I want you. Completely.”

“But we’ve spoken of this — ”

She stopped his protest with the light press of her fingertips to his lips. “My battle is over, Benedict. The day is done. If I have you, know you, if only this once, then I can bear the lie my life has to be.” She lowered her hand. “For I will hold the truth of you, of me, of us, in my heart till the day I die.”