Page 96 of The Thornwyck Rose

A woman worth defending.

A woman he loved.

Henry’s gaze burned into hisback as he turned.

“Master de Bramber. Guard Godric,” Henry snapped. “Go with the dog. Make sure he obeys.”

Erik said nothing, and he didn’t look back.

He carried her from the great hall, her blood on his sleeve, her weight against his chest.

And for the first time in four years, he allowed himself to feel the truth of what he could never hold.

XXXIV

THE LAST PLEA

THORNWYCK KEEP, MARCH 1098

Erik carriedher in a sacred hold of husband and bride. Her head lolled against his shoulder, breath shallow, a flush blooming dark at the site where he had struck her. His stomach knotted at the sight.

His steps echoed off the narrow stairwell in a firm cadence, not reminiscent of his erratic heartbeat. He paused midway up, pretending to adjust his grip.

"Forgive me," he whispered in her ear.

Her lashes twitched. A sound curled between her lips but did not form.

Sunlight barely illuminated the corridor, filtering in through the narrow arrow slits. The shadows fell on her face in bars after each window.

She stirred as they reached her chamber. Her hand rose to his chest. Her fingers curled in the wool of his surcoat, an anchor in the storm that threatened to pull him under.

He pushed the cracked door open with his shoulder, holding her tight against him. Margot and Isolde entered behind him and began preparing the hearth.

Erik moved to the bed, kneeled, and placed Seren down, cherishing every moment near her. He removed his arm from beneathher knees.

She stirred again.

“Erik,” she whispered.

He froze.

Her voice was raw.

She reached. Her fingers brushed his jaw. He caught her hand in his. His heart thundered, and he hoped Geoffrey hadn’t seen her hand or heard her whisper.

Margot stilled before she turned to Isolde.

“I need hay for the fire,” Margot said, chin dipping subtly toward the door.

Isolde caught the cue instantly.

“Master de Bramber,” she said lightly, “will you help me bring it down from the attic?”

Geoffrey hesitated, his weight shifting on the wooden planks.

“I will stand guard,” Godric said firmly. “You two go.”

They left.