A Christmas Bride Read Free

are we going to do with her?”
    Timothy exchanged a wry grin with Jenkins. “We are going to the next village to see if we can get some help for her. If we hurry, she may live long enough to get there.”
    â€œBut, Timothy—”
    The young woman shuddered as she drew in a breath, and he retorted, “If we stay here until all your questions are answered, we may be burying her along with the others.”

Two
    Pain laced every breath she took. She tried to breathe shallowly, but it made no difference. The pain began on her right side and leaped across to her left with each motion. When she tried to hold her breath, hoping it would ease the anguish, the very pulse of her heart augmented it.
    â€œShouldn’t she be waking up soon?”
    She tried to put a face with that petulant voice. For a moment a wisp of memory taunted her; then it vanished into a cacophony of agony. Just thinking hurt.
    â€œHave patience, sir,” a woman replied with a comfortingly familiar north country accent.
    Did she know that woman? No, she was sure she had never heard the raspy voice before.
    Something cool brushed her cheeks. She almost smiled at the brief respite from the pain, but winced as even that slight motion exacerbated the torment.
    â€œShe moved! I saw her move!” The man’s voice resounded through her aching head.
    â€œHush, sir. ’Tis best if she wakes slowly.”
    â€œAt this rate, Timothy will return before she regains her senses.”
    â€œIf His Lordship is here or not will make no difference in her waking.”
    She liked that woman’s voice. It was matter-of-fact, not borderline hysterical like the man’s.
    The coolness vanished, and she wanted to ask for it to come back. No words reached her lips. Hearing footsteps fade, she wondered if she had been left alone. How could they leave her alone when she was so helpless? Did they have not a lick of sense between the two of them? Or were there more than two of them with her here in … Where was she?
    The battering of questions ached worse than her pain and forced her eyes open. She stared up at broad beams crisscrossing a slanted ceiling. Not a hint of whitewash had ever stained them, although a sliver of water edged along one before dripping on the floor. It must still be raining.
    Yes, it had been raining before when … She frowned. Another moan rushed through her, bursting out of her lips like a peal of thunder.
    â€œAre you awake?”
    She wished it had been the woman’s voice, but she turned her head to see a man leaning over her. His soggy brown hair clung closely to his scalp and curved along his gaunt face. The intensity in his dark brown eyes threatened to pierce her, and she closed her eyes again. She should scream out her dismay at seeing a stranger leaning over her while she was so vulnerable in this bed, but she did not have the strength.
    â€œI know you are awake,” he said.
    He was petulant. He could have the decency to lower his voice to a whisper that would not careen through her head.
    Slowly opening her eyes again, she murmured, “Barely.”
    â€œHow do you fare, miss …?”
    She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She knew how she fared. Poorly. What she did not know was the name she should give him.
    â€œMiss …?”
    Closing her eyes, she took a careful breath. “I am sorry. I cannot seem to recall my name.”
    â€œIs that so?” In a mutter, he added something else, but she could not understand what he said.
    She looked across the bed at him. He now had his back to her. Sagging into the pillows, she forgot him as she was overwhelmed with pain again. It dragged her down into the darkness once more.
    Not a silent darkness, but one filled with screams and the sounds of a horrible crash. Wood splintering and horses screeching in terror. No escape, nothing but death and pain and more darkness.
    â€œHush, child,” murmured a voice that