Immortal Love (24 page)

But there was more that lay between them than
his broadsword. Painful memories of McPhearson’s hands on her body.
Bile and disgust rose to her throat when she thought of it.

Dominick said it was a matter of time before
she could put those memories behind her. It had been nearly a year,
since Eleanor’s near rape and the wounds still felt fresh. She
looked at Dominick lying in their bed and saw the question in his
eyes.

Her shoulders slumped in resignation that her
problems would not be solved that night. Quickly she undressed and
climbed into bed, pulling the bed robes over her shoulders. She
turned toward him and gently touched his shoulder.

“Dominick, I wish I could.”

There was no question that he understood her
words.

His large hand covered hers. “I know, my
dove. In time.”

He kissed her lips tenderly, then rolled away
from her. Soon he was sound asleep.

Eleanor lay in the quiet room watching the
shadows of the firelight dance on the ceiling. She touched her
lips. His kiss left her wanting more, but she knew it would lead to
intimacy, and that she was not ready for. Not yet.

D
ominick...Dominick...Dominick

The voice came from all directions,
surrounding him like a fog. A ghostly hand reached out of the mist
and laid its death-like claw upon his chest. The cold settled in
his bones. He tried to get away, but his body would not
respond.

There is a fire
, the voice echoed
around him.

Panic drew him to the surface of his dream.
Opening his eyes, he found Isolde standing over him.

Her mind reached out to his.
There is a
fire . . . in the stables
.

Then, like the mist she faded away.

He bounded out of bed and dressed in a
hurry.

Eleanor stirred then sat up. “Dominick, what
is it?”

“There is a fire.”

Eleanor sat up in alarm. “Fire, where?”

“In the stables.”

“How would you know that?”

“I had a visit from your mother.”

Eleanor gaped for only an instant. Quickly,
she jumped out of bed and began dressing.

“What are you doing?” Dominick asked.

“I’m going with you,” she said as she slipped
on her gown.

“No, Eleanor, it’s too dangerous.”

“Is it no less dangerous for you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” she said, slipping on her
boots.

He didn’t have an answer. “Fine, we will go
together, but you will follow my every order.”

“I will.” She threw her wrap around her
shoulders and headed out the door.

By the time they reached the stables, smoke
was pouring out of the doors, and flames were licking at the roof.
The smell of burning wood and straw filled the courtyard. Chilling
cries from the animals rose up over the roar of the flames. Their
hooves drummed against the walls of their stalls as they tried to
escape. Men scrambled with buckets of water to put out the flame,
others ran into the burning building to free the animals.

“Stay here,” Dominick shouted as he ran into
the stables.

Eleanor twisted her gown as she watched him
inside the fiery building.

“Bring buckets,” she shouted.

She organized men and women to form a line,
passing the water-filled buckets toward the stables, and then the
empty ones back toward the well.

The scene was all too familiar. Only a few
months before, she and the villagers had lived that same nightmare.
Anger stirred in the pit of her stomach, moving her into
action.

Dominick ran in and out of the stable
carrying buckets of water. Randolf brought out her Arabian along
with two other horses. To her amazement Erik managed to get dogs,
geese, and milk cows to follow him to safety. Even some cats
brushed along his ankles as he led the animals out.

“Keep moving!” Eleanor encouraged people to
bring more buckets of water, but no matter how much water was
thrown on the fire, they were losing the battle and could not keep
it from consuming the building. She found Zenon carrying people
away from the smoke.

“Zenon make sure everyone is accounted for.
If anyone is missing find people who will look for them. We have to
make sure everyone got out.”

She looked around for Dominick, but he was
nowhere in sight. The stable was now nearly completely engulfed in
flames. The smoke drove everyone back. But there was no sign of
him.

An ominous creaking ripped through the
air.

“It’s about to fall! Came a voice from the
crowd. The roof was about to collapse. Her eyes darted from one
side of the bailey to the other, trying to find her husband. With
frightening clarity she knew he was still in the stable. Without
thinking she ran toward the inferno. The heat was suffocating.
Grabbing one of the men who had just come out of the barn, “Where
is Lord Dominick?” she asked desperately.

The man was ready to collapse. “In there, my
lady,” he choked out. “He was holding a beam that was about to
collapse so the rest of us could escape.”

Eleanor felt the blood draining from her
face. “Dominick!” she screamed, running toward the stables.
“Dominick!”

The heat was unbearable.

A few feet from the flames Randolf ran toward
her and held her back for the burning building. She struggled
against him. “No. Dominick is in there!” She fought harder. “Let me
go. Dominick . . . Dominick!” she shouted.

Panic coursed through her veins when she
heard the snapping of wood, and the roof collapsed. Smoke, ash, and
sparks billowed up toward the night sky.

Eleanor dropped to her knees bringing Randolf
with her. “No!”

Randolf wrapped his arms more tightly around
her and buried his head in her shoulder. He cried out his brother’s
name, but she couldn’t hear it over her own screaming.

She watched the fire in disbelief. Hot tears
ran down her face uncontrollably. This couldn’t be happening, he
couldn’t be gone. Randolf’s arms grew tighter, his grief wrapped
around her as though they were one.

The fire raged on. Suddenly, a shadow moved
among the flames. At first she thought it was a play of the light.
It moved again. The dark shadow rose above the smoke and ash,
stumbling away from the flames.

“Dominick?” Eleanor whispered in
disbelief.

The dark form of a man stumbled toward
them.

“Dominick!” she shouted.

Eleanor’s heartbeat thundered. “Dominick!”
she shouted again as he collapsed to the ground.

Tears pouring down her face, Eleanor ran to
his side and dropped to her knees beside him. Laying her hand on
his chest, she felt his uneven and labored breathing. Still she was
reassured he
was
breathing.

He was barely conscious. Eleanor shook his
arm. “Come now, Dominick. You had your fun, frightening us. Now
wake up.” He barked a cough. “That’s it, open your eyes and look at
me.” Eleanor couldn’t keep her voice from shaking. His eyes
fluttered for a moment. “No, Dominick. That isn’t good enough. Open
your eyes.”

To her relief he did exactly that. Randolf
sat silently with tears in his eyes.

Erik knelt beside them. “How are you doing,
old friend?”

Dominick reached up and wiped a tear from
Eleanor’s face. “I’m fine.”

She couldn’t hold back a sob. She was scared,
she was angry, and most of all, she was in love. Laying her head on
his chest, she cried uncontrollably.

He stroked her hair. “It’s all right now,
Eleanor.”

Anger bubbled up inside her. “It’s not all
right.” She grabbed a handful of his scorched tunic and twisted it.
“You nearly died before I could tell you . . . I love you.” She put
her head on his chest.

He went back to stroking her hair. “Shh, my
little dove.”

Finally, the tears ran out. She looked at his
face. A quiet smile resided on his lips. “Those were the words I
lived for.

“Can you stand?” Randolf asked.

“I believe so.”

Erik and Randolf helped him to his feet. Once
steadied, she stepped between Dominick and Erik and wrapped her arm
around Dominick’s waist.

A cheer rang out from the villagers once
Dominick rose to his feet. At that moment she realized they loved
him, too.

The four hobbled back to the castle. Martha
and Zenon met them at the door. Zenon’s face and hair were covered
in soot and ash. His hand was bandaged, and his shoulders were
slumped in exhaustion.

“Zenon, have yourself some ale and go to
bed,” Eleanor ordered.

“I will, my lady. Just making sure the master
is all right.”

“The master is fine,” Dominick stated. “Now
do as your lady said and get some rest.”

“Aye, my lord.” Zenon took his ale from
Martha and headed toward his chambers.

Martha wore the same exhausted expression as
Zenon. “Is there anything you need, my lady?”

Eleanor followed Dominick to a big chair in
the great hall. “No Martha. You get your rest as well. If I should
need anything, I know where to find you.”

“If you’re sure,” she said hesitantly.

“I’m sure.”

Martha bid them good night and left the hall.
Dominick, Eleanor, Randolf, and Erik sat in silence for a long
time. Each pondered the night’s drama. Eleanor hung onto Dominick’s
hand like a lifeline. Every now and then, she gave it a squeeze
making sure he was really sitting beside her.

Dominick gave her a reassuring glance. It
told that her he was there and always would be.

Erik finally broke the silence. “This may be
the wrong time, but I have to ask. How did you get out of the fire
unscathed?”

Dominick turned toward Eleanor and squeezed
her hand. He paused for a moment. “Isolde.”

“What?” Eleanor started in surprise. “How
could that be?”

“I don’t know.” He relived the memory when he
closed his eyes. “The fire was hot, and the smoke so thick I could
no longer draw a breath. Then suddenly I felt my body begin to
cool, breathing became easier. When I looked up, I saw your mother.
She wrapped around me like a protective blanket. When the roof
caved in, she guided me out, all the while keeping the flames away
from me.” His head rested in his hands. “I know that sounds like
madness, but it’s the truth.”

Erik grasped Dominick's shoulder. “It’s the
only explanation, my friend. No human being could have survived the
heat of that blaze.”

Randolf smiled. “You know this adds to your
legend. ‘The Immortal could not be killed by fire.’” He stopped for
a moment and looked down at his hands. Eleanor felt the emotion
that crossed his face. He squeezed Dominick’s arm. “I’m glad that
the legend lives on.”

Dominick pressed his hand against his
brother’s shoulder, both caught up in the moment.

Eleanor watched the unspoken words that
passed between them. These men were closer than any she’d ever
seen. Randolf loved his brother. Randolf’s loss would be
insurmountable, and there was no doubt that Dominick felt the
same.

Dominick chuckled, breaking the heavy emotion
of the moment. “Well, this legend is going to bed.” He stretched
his back as he stood. Then reached out to Eleanor, who took his
hand gladly. Together they walked arm and arm up to their
chambers.

Once inside, Eleanor spied a pitcher of ale
and a large basin of water. Martha. The woman always had her best
interest at heart. A groan from her husband as he removed his tunic
drew Eleanor’s attention back to him.

“Here, let me help you with that.” She ran
over to remove the tunic the rest of the way. “Are you sure you’re
not hurt?”

“My arms and legs are a bit sore.” He bent to
unlace his boots, but she sat him down in a chair and began
unlacing them for him. “Eleanor, I don’t need a hand maiden.”

“No, you just need someone to help you right
now.” She pushed his shoulder back against the chair. “Be still,
this is no hardship for me.”

An exhausted sigh blew out of his body. After
removing his boots she set the water basin, soap and a cloth closer
to him. “You might feel better when you wash away the grime of the
fire.”

He caught her wrist before she turned away
then pulled her between his knees. His intense gaze captured her
heart.

“Eleanor, did you mean what you said
tonight?”

She touched his face and softly brushed his
hair from his brow. New tears stung her eyes. “Yes, Dominick. I
love you. I'm sorry it took nearly losing you for me to realize
it.”

His arms circled her waist, his head pressed
against her breast. “I promise I will not make you regret it.”

A large lump formed in her throat. “I will
hold you to that, my lord.” She pulled away, “Now wash, you smell
like smoke.

D
ominick’s heart
leapt with gladness.
Eleanor was in love with him
. His mind
repeated her words over and over again. Surrounded by flames in the
stable, he believed that he would never live to see her again.
Until then, when faced with death he had never felt fear. That
night he nearly choked on it. He had so much to lose. His throat
constricted at the thought.

Then, miraculously, Isolde had saved him from
the fire, and just when he thought there were no more miracles to
be had, Eleanor told him she loved him. He had all but given up
hope of hearing those words from her mouth. The smile that drew his
lips upward couldn’t be stopped. He placed the cool cloth across
his face. The clang of metal hitting the floor startled him. He
drew the cloth away. Another miracle. Eleanor had pulled his
broadsword off the bed, and its weight had made her drop its tip
against the floor.

“Eleanor, what are you doing?”

“We won’t be needing this any longer,” she
said as she struggled to lean it against the table.