Gift of God: Lady Godiva - Chapter 6

“Everyone, disperse. It will do no good if his lordship hears of this. Miss, we must go.”

The nanny shouted sharply, but the people did not move. Neither did Godiva.

“Please, go.”

“Return at once, Miss.”

The crowd answered in her stead.

“Miss!”

The nanny urged her again.

“…Very well.”

With tear-bright eyes, Godiva turned away.

* * *

“Madam—his lordship…”

The gatekeeper hurried toward her the moment he saw her.

“He has already returned?”

The nanny asked in alarm.

“Yes, he has—but…”

The way the man trailed off was ominous. Godiva gripped the tied sleeve of her bliaut. For some reason, her fingers trembled and fumbled at the knot.

“Tell me. What has happened?”

“He is injured.”

Heat flared deep in her chest. Godiva could not even bring herself to ask further. The world blurred before her eyes.

“Injured? What do you mean injured?”

“Please, Madam. Go inside at once. He has been asking for you.”

If it were a minor wound, they would not speak so gravely. That thought echoed in Godiva’s mind. She had never imagined such a thing, he was the strongest man she knew. A chill crept from her fingertips upward.

“Come, Nanny.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She had always known the castle to be vast and spacious. Yet today it felt even larger, pressing upon her heart. She lengthened her stride, nearly running toward Leofric.

A door opened.

Another.

He was not in the chamber. Where was Leofric—? Godiva clutched the door handle. The great room stood empty but for herself.

“Miss, perhaps he is in the bedchamber.”

Bedridden? Was the injury so severe? Godiva turned pale. Strands of golden hair slipped free from her hood, fluttering like sparks.

“Strange… there are no servants in sight…”

The nanny muttered, but Godiva did not hear. She rushed toward the stairs. In that moment, her thoughts held only Leofric. Her chest tightened; her vision blurred.

“Miss, you’ll hurt yourself!”

As she ran, the clasp of her mantle loosened. The hood fell back, heavy fabric slipping from her shoulders. Honey-colored hair streamed behind her. Still she climbed.

“Ah!”

At a turn in the staircase, she hurried around another bend, only to collide with something solid as a wall. Before she could understand, someone lifted her into their arms.

“You run like a child.”

Her face pressed into a broad chest; she could barely reply. At the sound of that steady voice, her throat closed with relief.

“Did you go out again with Brandel?”

She only shook her head. The tension drained from her so suddenly she did not fully consider what he meant. Tears welled instead.

“Then you went into the streets again without an escort…”

He did not need to shout for it to be anger. Like a moonless night, Leofric seemed dark. Only then did she grasp the implication of Brandel’s name.

“Leo…”

Leofric turned back the way she had come, carrying her. Their destination was clear—their bedchamber. Nothing hindered him. In the corridor, the castle physician, Milton, shrank aside. No one else appeared.

The door flew open.

Godiva was set down upon the bed with force.

“Shall I tie you here?”

Leofric spoke through clenched teeth.

“What must I do to make you—”

Through her disheveled hair, Godiva looked at him. What burned in his silver eyes was not anger alone. There was something deeper. Slowly, she pushed herself upright.

“I’m sorry, Leofric.”

She held out both hands to him. Somehow, it felt right. With tearful eyes, she gazed at him.

“Next time, I will go with Sir Brandel.”

For a long moment that felt eternal, Leofric simply looked at her. His gaze so deep it seemed to brush her very soul. She did not even realize when he took her hands. Their warmth mingled. His hands were large enough to cover the world; hers small enough to disappear within them.