Nicholas did not yell at her as she feared. He deposited her in the outer bailey and rode off to the stable without another word. He did not tend to his own horse. Instead, he carefully took his injured man into his arms. He carried his limp body through the inner bailey toward the chapel.
"Father Darius," he bellowed as he kicked the door with his foot. Within minutes, the priest emerged with a candle to find him standing there with a soldier in his arms. Gemma could not hear what was said, but Nicholas entered. She had nothing to do but go up to bed. Facing her husband right now would be a disaster, so she shuffled slowly through the bailey to the stables. She tended to Lady and then was escorted back to the keep.
Leda was waiting for her when she crossed the great hall to take the steps to the solar. "Milady," she said, rushing toward her, "are you well?"
"Aye, Leda," she said, "though I am a fool."
"Why did ye take off like that? Nicholas was all in a tizzy as he tried to get out of here after ye when he thought you gone. Were ye hurt? Where did ye go?"
"Come up with me and I will explain." Her chambermaid was waiting for her, and she asked for a late bath. All she wanted to do was to let the water wash her mistake away. She had ridden hard without braiding her hair, which meant she would have to untangle it before she could sleep. She was willing to do it all night if it took her mind from how angry Nicholas was going to be with her when he came to bed, if he came to bed at all.
She waited for the cook, who brought her up some fruit and a skin of wine. When she came in, her eyes were big, and Gemma sought words to calm the poor woman down.
"Is Isabel abed?" she began, worried about her sister.
"Aye, she be asleep for some time now," Leda offered. "Please tell me what happened to ye. I be worried all night."
With a sigh, Gemma explained where she had gone and why she went. She described with great chagrin how she had tricked poor Matthew and what befell her afterward.
As she was talking, her bath was brought in, along with buckets of hot water. Leda did not say much until as she finished her story.
"Ye have always been a daring and stubborn girl, but this mistake could have seen ye killed!"
"I am fully aware of what I have done. I felt like a prisoner, and I wished for some solitude to think. I assumed I would be safe. Nicholas may never forgive me, especially if his man dies. I assure you I have learned a lesson."
"Get yer bath and get some sleep," Leda said, "and I am off to get mine. If ye need me, ye know where I be."
After she left, Gemma dug out her soap and slipped into the tub. The warm water swirled around her, and she moved the soap over her skin. Her hair was a problem. It was tangled and nearly impossible to manage on her own. Her chambermaid sat behind her and deftly untangled some of it with her fingers. It was a long and arduous task. All she could think about was the man with the arrow in his leg. She did not even know his name.
"I will finish. You are excused," Nicholas said as he walked into their quarters. Her chambermaid scurried off as if she had just seen the devil. Gemma went to rise but he pushed her back down into the water. "You stay where you are. I will finish your hair."
Much to her surprise, he began to carefully untangle the rest of her hair. He said nothing for a while, and she remained silent too, even though her water was cooling rapidly.
"Get out," he said, his voice sharp. She stood with her back to him, fully aware she was naked and he was still in his clothes. "You will scrub my back."
"Do you want fresh water for…" she began, but he cut her off.
"This will do. I only need a quick bath, and I do not wish to wait for new water to be warmed and carried up here." He began to strip his clothes off, and she gasped at not only his boldness, but also the blood she saw soaked through his tunic.
She grabbed the linen left by her chambermaid and wrapped her wet, naked body in it. Nicholas kicked off his muddied boots. His expression was that of a man possessed.
Despite her fear, she spoke up, "How is he?" She watched as he stepped out of the last of his clothes. His body was magnificent, and she found herself blushing as she remembered the one night they had spent in each other's arms. Not only was he lean, he was muscular and moved with grace as he stepped into the bath and lowered himself into the water. He looked like the towering, dark, and dangerous warrior he was, and she all but shivered and melted into a heap just looking at him.
"He has a name," he said gruffly, "and he is alive. His name is Rulnoff, and he is a good man."
"I-I-I…" she said as she watched him lather and scrub himself.
"The arrow was pulled from his leg, and he bled for quite a while. I feared for his life. Father Darius managed to stop the flow with a hot iron from the smith. He packed the wound with a poultice that should fight off infection. As most do with such a wound, he passed out when the arrow was removed, but he breathes well and as long as infection says away, he should live."
"Will he—" she began, but he interrupted her again.
"Walk again? Aye, I think so. It pierced the inner thigh but did not hit bone. He may have a limp, but I imagine he shall walk again."
She remained silent as she watched him get out of the tub. He stood before the fire, water dripping from him. He did not bother to dry off or cover himself. He did not look at her.
"Now you can tell me why you decided to take a ride at sunset when there is danger lurking about," he said. "Are you trying to find trouble or trying to escape me?"
"Nay," she said, lifting her quivering chin. "I am tired of being followed around my own home like a criminal. I just wanted some quiet time to myself. I saw no harm in a quick ride on my father's… uh, your land."
"And what if it had been thieves who overtook you? I never would have found you. 'Twas almost a stroke of luck 'twas Bigod's men, or I would not have known where to search. You should not have been anywhere without me. There is no telling what Hugh Bigod would have done to you. His son may hang because of you."
"I meant no harm," she said. She put her arms up and hugged her midsection.
"You are a foolish woman, Gemma. Did you also not think of what it would have done to Matthew had you come to a bad end? He was to protect you, and you mislead him and then ditched him in the wood."
"I am sorry; I truly am," she said with a high voice, unable to defend herself any longer. She bent her shoulders and put her hands to her face. "I am foolish, and I could have put us all in more peril. Please believe me, Nicholas. I have learned my lesson! Now Rulnoff lies in danger thanks to my foolhardy trek through the night."
He stood where he was, but he did not say much more. His skin was drying from the heat of the fire, but he made no move to clothe himself.
"I truly am sorry," she whispered.
Moving like a cat, he went to her. He picked her up and held her in his arms. He lowered them both to the bed so she was on his lap. She stiffened for a moment, realizing the only thing between them was the damp linen wrapped around her body. His anger was evident, and she did not know what to expect next.
He sighed and put his head back. "I know you are, and therein lies the problem. You are foolhardy, yet you mean no harm to anyone. You do not think before you act, which can put people in danger, but your intentions are pure. I do not understand your thinking. That makes it harder for me to protect you or to predict what you will do next."
She relaxed her body against his, suddenly feeling tired, but also aware of how good it felt to be in his arms. "I will not ride off on my own again. I simply meant to have some time to myself. I could not have known Hugh's men would be on our land or that they would take me. He was not as I remember him. He was always polite when visiting with my father."
"His son may hang," he chuckled, "that is enough to turn any man into an oaf."
"He said he had guests I should meet. What do you think he meant?"
"I do not know."
"He also told me he went to the king about us. He ruined your family and told lies in hopes Phillip could have me."
"It no longer matters," he said and then sighed. "The taste for revenge has gone cold in me. I have only to be here next to you to know 'twas not your fault. It does not matter if 'twas Bigod or anyone else. 'Tis done and over, and I fear my only option is to move forward."
Gemma's spirit soared when she heard him say that. "Do you truly mean that?" she asked.
He shifted, his arms tightening around her. "I think I mean it. That is going to have to be good enough for you for now."
"I will accept it. I want the iciness between us to thaw," she admitted.
"I can offer you this night, Gemma, though I cannot say what the dawn will bring," he said as he tugged at the linen around her body. She arched her back as he slowly unwrapped it. He tossed it onto the floor near the bed.
He brought her naked body back to his, and Gemma marveled at the feeling of his skin on hers. She was not injured this time, so she could fully experience what it felt like to be next to him. She nuzzled down as her mouth found the side of his neck. His skin was soft, and the day's growth of beard tickled her. She tasted his skin, and he let out a low moan. His arms wrapped around her as she wiggled, trying to be as close to him as she could.
Nicholas made love to his wife. It was not the slow, tender experience they shared the first time. Their passions flared, and he took her places she never imagined.
They made love two more times that night, and both fell asleep in total exhaustion in each other's arms. Gemma never felt safer or more loved in her life.