Wicked Whispers. Tina Donahue
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Название: Wicked Whispers

Автор: Tina Donahue

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Исторические любовные романы

Серия: Dangerous Desires

isbn: 9781601835895

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ you like water?” He glanced around. “I can fetch some fresh.”

      “You have no idea where the well is.”

      “I can ask.”

      “Or I could gather my own. Some for you too.”

      “And leave your patient to do so?”

      What was the matter with her, forgetting the child again? Maria still rested, eyes closed, breathing steady as her mamá stroked her hair. “I need nothing to drink.”

      “As you wish. If I may say so, I believe you will make a magnificent mother.”

      She grew hot, cold, then hot again. “What?”

      Unfazed at how she’d blurted her question, he leaned close. “You knew what to say to Maria in order to calm her as much as circumstances allowed. You were kind yet strong, doing what you must. She trusted you.”

      “She wanted her mamá.”

      “Only because she had yet to spend enough time with you.”

      Sancha might have laughed at his outrageous praise but couldn’t. Like most men, he had no idea how children felt or thought, forgetting the time he’d been small and helpless. “I could spend an eternity with the child and she would still prefer her mother, as I would mine. I miss her greatly and will never forgive myself for not being able to save her.”

      He glanced away for a moment then faced her again. “Fernando told me what your uncle had done to your parents. He never mentioned you ministering to your mamá.”

      She’d done everything possible to save her and had failed, the poison her uncle used unknown to her. There hadn’t been enough time to prepare and experiment with her own remedies. “Mamá succumbed so quickly, I barely had the chance to do anything.”

      “How awful for you and your sisters.” He touched her fingers. “I am so sorry.”

      Her throat tightened. She turned her hand to cup his, then stopped, worried he might misread her intentions. “No one was sorrier than I that my few skills were no match for Mamá’s illness. I may not be a man with all the knowledge the world offers, but I will do what I can and more. Never again will I lose a person I love.”

      He stroked her thumb, then rested his hand on his thigh. “Where have you learned these things? Surely, someone other than those in the order taught you. The nuns I know have never been as skilled.”

      She lowered her face. If his words had come from another man, they would have sounded like an accusation of witchcraft. How she wished to live in a different world where women’s lives weren’t made unnecessarily difficult. Forcing them to hide their feelings, tell lies when truth would have served better, and to always wear fear as men did their sense of privilege.

      Weary of having to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, and to prove to Enrique why he shouldn’t woo her, she faced him. “As the nuns know little and physicians would have been suspicious of any questions I might have had, I learned most of what I know from books.”

      “Books taught you this? Whose?”

      “Mine.” There were also the experiments she’d mentioned earlier.

      He glanced quickly at the adults, then leaned closer to her. “Will you show your books to me? I can come to your castle whenever you find a visit convenient.”

      “The books are elsewhere.”

      “Oh. Do you bring them with you when you travel?”

      She laughed softly. “Even the strongest man would have difficulty carrying dozens of volumes. A woman would have no chance.”

      “Where do you keep such a collection?”

      She was afraid to say.

      He sighed. “Do you trust me so little?”

      She already believed in him too much, captivated by his integrity, the way he listened to her, and his presence. If there were such a thing as sorcery, he’d been working his spell on her from the moment they’d met.

      She kept yearning to be closer to him, feel his heat, and enjoy the taste of his lips again. A stray crumb on the corner of his mouth fascinated her, urging her to lick the morsel away, feel his beginning stubble against her tongue, cheeks, and fingers.

      She had to stop thinking such things. “Isabella’s.”

      “Isabella’s what?”

      “She has my books at the castle.”

      “Fernando’s? Why?”

      She regarded the wrappings on her hands rather than him. “Should anyone question my actions and send the authorities for me, a search of my castle will yield them nothing, especially my books. Whatever happens—”

      “Nothing will. Not to you.”

      She slumped. “The books will still be safe and available to another woman.”

      “Why are you always worried about everyone else rather than yourself?” He leaned toward her, gripping the seat of his chair. “Why do you insist on putting yourself in such danger?”

      She gestured to Maria.

      He fell silent. She did too, her fatigue too great to resist. Closing her eyes, she kept alert to any sounds Maria would make.

      The girl was blessedly silent, allowing Sancha to recall the celebration, the thrill and worry of having Enrique next to her. Their moments on the balcony. His concern and kindness here, followed by his quick anger when he believed she was careless with her safety.

      She had no choice. Death wouldn’t wait for the world to grow fair for everyone. She had to do what she could while there was time. Endless people needed saving, their health and lives restored. She pictured her patients recovering only to grow ill once more. Inquisitors nearby, watching, waiting, ready to pounce.

      A hand rested on her arm. She flinched and struggled to open her eyes, her lids gritty with sleep.

      The child’s uncles lay sprawled on the floor, one snoring loudly. Maria’s mother still watched over her daughter, the child’s face slack with slumber, no pain etching her features.

      Sancha stifled a yawn.

      “We should go.” Enrique squeezed her arm gently. “You need real rest in a bed. Twice, I had to keep you from falling off your chair.”

      He had? “I feel fine now.”

      “Will the child heal faster if you force yourself to stay awake so you can watch her sleep?”

      She refused to smile at his teasing. “You know she would not, though a vigil is comforting.” She straightened and tried to shake off her fatigue. “Maria’s uncles are clearly too tired to see me back to the castle. They need their rest. I have no intention of disturbing them.”

      “I agree. You and I can ride together on my horse.”

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