Authors: Sophia Johnson
“Her fever is gone. There is no reason for her not to awake.” Bleddyn spoke just loud enough that Brianna could hear him if she wished. “I believe she hides from her pain. It does not help that I cannot make her milk dry up, no matter what brew I give her, nor how tightly we bind her.”
He motioned Damron to follow him to a far corner of the room. “If you wish to bring her back more quickly, soothe her mind as you did before.”
When Bleddyn left, Damron latched the door and went to her.
He whispered over and over again in her ear, “My little one, dinna hide from me. I pine for the sound of yer beautiful voice when ye sing for me. I will see that the rest ye need is free of all but gentle thoughts and of love.”
His voice finally came through to her. She stirred, as if she listened. When he caressed her face, she whispered a sigh.
Damron held her. He sang the songs he knew comforted her, his face close to hers. It did not matter that the words were in German, and she did not understand their meaning. She listened.
When he finished, he murmured how much he needed her.
Tears slipped through her closed lids. He tenderly kissed them away. They spent the night with Damron soothing her mind, and Bleddyn slipping his elixirs between her lips.
Damron talked to her of his grief for their sweet Faith, and how much he longed for Brianna to come back to him.
Through her haze, Brianna remembered how he had tried so hard to help her through the birthing, and the tears of grief he shed when he held the bairn.
Maybe Damron really did need her?
* * *
Sophia Johnson
By morning, she was aware of people in the room. Soon after, a great commotion and shouting occurred outside the chamber.
Damron threw open the door, cursing at the uproar that was sure to disturb his wife. Johanna, Asceline’s maid, stood there surrounded by Alana, Meghan, Connor, Mereck and Lady Phillipa. Johanna looked like she had run a great distance.
She clutched a small bundle to her chest.
Thin, mewling sounds of an infant came from the bundle.
“When it were no’ a boy, Lady Asceline ordered me to drown it,” Johanna said, spasms of horror crossing her face.
“She up and left durin’ the night. Said ye were welcome to the little . . . I willna call it the name she used, milord. She has vanished. She were an unnatural mother, Lucifer take her.
’Tis reason enough the little one cries and willna suckle.”
“Hush, Johanna. Find a wet nurse in the village.”
“Do ye think me so daft I did not try? Whene’er someone takes her to their breast, she kicks and screams and turns her face from their nipple. All say she be a changelin’. ’Twill cause their own bairns to die if they give it suckle.” Johanna snorted. “She be no changelin’. I were there at the birthin’ and have not left her side. When I threatened ye would send them from Blackthorn, they put her back to their teats. She refused to suck at any of them. I have tried until there be no one left.”
Brianna’s mind came farther into the light. She fought to keep from retreating back to the quiet black. Concentrating on the baby’s wails, she opened her eyes to see Mari stood close. Brianna reached to tug Mari’s tunic.
“Blessed saints. Brianna be awake. Help, someone! Milord Damron, dinna let her slip away again.” Mari’s tone rose to a frantic pitch.
Damron rushed to her side. Brianna held up her hand to keep him silent.
“Please, Damron,” she whispered, struggling to sit up. “Let Johanna in. I will nurse the babe.”
ALWAYS MINE
347
“Love, ye are ill. Ye dinna know what ye are saying.”
“You would let a bairn die, because of its horrible mother?”
Her weak voice was not much above a whisper, but indignation gave her strength. “Bring the babe. Please. A changeling!
Who believes such stupid things as that?”
“Bleddyn, tell her she canna do this. She canna know what she is plannin’ to do.” Worry for his wife, and worry for the child, warred together on Damron’s face.
“I think our Brianna knows what she wants to do. Bring the child to her. Let her decide.”
Alana added a pillow behind Brianna’s back and whispered,
“Welcome back, little sister.” Brianna’s smile was fragile as she held out her arms to Johanna.
Joanna placed the little squalling bundle securely on Brianna’s chest. With Alana’s help, Brianna unwrapped the bairn until it lay naked on its soft blanket. It gave one more angry cry, its red face wrinkled, its eyes tightly shut. Little arms and legs beat at the air, as if to fight away anything that would try to take it from this world.
The babe had soft tufts of black hair on her head. She was so tiny she could not be more than five pounds. Brianna hardly felt her weight. The baby interrupted her crying to wet the blanket through to Brianna’s stomach. Brianna dropped her head back on the pillows and chuckled. Hands reached to take the babe from her, but she clutched it tight.
“No. She’ll just wet again after she has fed, and she is so desperately hungry. Please, cut these bindings from me. I’m bursting with milk.” The binding cloths were soaked with the milk that would not be held back. She wondered at the ways of God.
Damron used his dagger to carefully free her breasts. He lifted the sopping cloth to the side. “I dinna ask this of ye. I know how ye suffer, love.”
“I know, but do please hurry before she gets any weaker.”
348
Sophia Johnson
Alana washed her sister’s bare breasts with warm water. The minute Brianna murmured to the babe, she stopped wailing, took a huge gasp of air and stared straight into Brianna’s eyes.
Brianna’s heart lurched. Joy filled her, for she knew her babe’s soul had listened to her plea.
“Don’t cry, little one. I will not let anyone take you from me.
Come. See how hungry you are,” she crooned as she lifted the small face to her left breast. The tiny mouth rooted around, but could not seem to fasten. While she tried to grasp hold, the babe’s eyes looked frantic. Brianna held the sides of the tiny mouth closed at her nipple, and the bairn clamped tight around it. Her fragile chest heaved with quick breaths, and the first drawing of the milk came from the breast. Pain shot through Brianna down to her healing womb, and she winced.
Damron made to reach for the infant, but her arms tightened protectively around her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped as he watched his wife nurse what might be his bastard daughter. He wanted to cry out that it should have been their daughter who was so greedy. Pain swept through his mind and heart.
Brianna concentrated on the babe’s warm body against her chest. Cuddling her, she wrapped the soft covers close around them. It was not long before the suckling stopped, and the tiny rosebud of a mouth fell away from the still-flowing nipple. A sigh followed, and Brianna grinned as she lifted the babe to her shoulder. She patted gently until she heard the burp she sought. Brianna looked down to see the baby relaxed in sleep, well-satisfied and peaceful.
“Serena. Her name shall be Serena. See how calm she is now her needs have been filled? Alana, please tend to her for me. You’ll find garments in my chest.” Her head fell back on the pillow and, though she was exhausted, hope filled her heart. She watched as they cleaned and dressed the babe, then she reached out her arms for her.
ALWAYS MINE
349
“Damron, you have not yet greeted this wee love. She was too small to come into this world. She will need all the tenderness and care we can give her. Hold her to your heart. She will hear it beating and know she is not alone.”
When he did not hold out his arms, she urged him. “Come.
She is a special babe. Though she’s not of my body, I feel love for her growing in me. Promise you’ll never let anyone take our precious one from us.”
“I promise, love. But how can ye love her knowin’ from whence she came?”
“Your mother understands,” she said as she put the babe in Damron’s arms. At first, he looked like he would deny holding the babe, but then his eyes softened. He lifted the blanket away and gazed at the sleeping infant, pity and tenderness softening his face.
“I’m sure your mother loved Mereck from the moment she held him. He is a part of his father, as this little one may be part of you.”
Damron’s head shot up. His gaze met hers. “Aye. But my mother dearly loved my father,” he whispered.
“Didn’t I tell you how much I love you? That I have loved you over the centuries? If I had not loved you with my heart and soul, would I have come back to this time?”
A ragged sob tore from Damron. He laid the sleeping child next to his wife and put his arms around them. He rained kisses on Brianna’s face.
“My love, my love. How I longed to hear ye say those words. Do ye have any doubt that I love ye as well?”
“My dearest Lord Demon. Your love was there in the timbre of your voice. When you tried to hold me to this time, I heard it in your pleading for me not to leave you. How could I ignore our hearts longing to be together? We’ve wasted so much time, but we will make up for it. With such a great love between us, how could we not?”
350
Sophia Johnson
“I will always love ye, Brianna. When our time with this life is through, we will love again and again.”
Peace and happiness warmed her. She laid her palm on his cheek and smiled up at him.
“As you promised me, my love. Our love will live forever in our souls. Through life. Through time. Through all eternity.”
Dear Reader,
Please keep in mind that
Always Mine
is about a modern woman whose soul is sent back to the eleventh century to relive her tumultuous life as Damron of Blackthorn’s wife.
The two kings mentioned in the story were King William I of England and King Malcolm III of Scotland.
In this tale of love through the ages, I have tried to keep
modern
words out of the manuscript dialog. This is Lydia/
Brianna’s story, so when Brianna is speaking, or in her point of view, she uses the language of today.
English Through the Ages
, by William Brohaugh, provides words for the eleventh century. They fill a scant twenty pages, so I have borrowed from later centuries in order to paint word pictures for the reader’s ease and enjoyment.
One instance is the bodhran Bleddyn plays. It was not called a bodhran until centuries later. It was first used as a Welsh war drum, for the steady noise brought fear to an enemy, much like the early use of bagpipes.
If an author used only words suitable to medieval centuries, they would be in Old English. I doubt that telling a story would be possible, for how could anyone but a scholar in old languages interpret it?
Relax and let my tales of love through the ages transport you to another time.
Visit me at www.sophiajohnson.net.
Sincerely,
Sophia
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2006 by June J. Ulrich
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 1-4201-1382-8