Hands at her face, Anna dropped her head back against the floor and sobbed.
William dropped to his knees at her side, his pulse refusing to quit its erratic pace. He trailed her body, examining her lower legs. His throat went hard. A strip of red flesh surrounded by charred fabric stole his breath.
Careful not to touch her wound, he pried at the still-hot petticoat and searched for signs of any other injury. When he could find none, he turned his attentions back to her.
“Come,” he said, sweeping his arms beneath her shoulders and knees. “Your burns need dressing. I’ll take you to Doctor Smith.”
“Nay!” She resisted with her words but her quivering body gave him the real answer he sought.
Starting for the door, he stopped when she almost jumped from his arms.
“Nay, William, I do not need a doctor.”
Still holding her, he stared, his face almost cramping from the scowl. “Of course you do—”
“Please.” Tears tumbled over her cheeks and she looked away. Her voice cracked. “Please put me down.”
The scowl hardened, but from questions, naught else. She didn’t know what she wanted. She’d gone mad with the knowledge she could have met a fiery death. That was all he could surmise. Turning, he rested her on the kitchen table, and crouched at her feet, once more examining where the heat of the flames had nibbled her flesh. Red and swollen, but not black, thank the Lord.
He looked up, a hand on her knee, trying to slay the rising concern that drove up in his chest at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. “If you do not wish to leave, then I will go fetch him and bring him here—”
“Do not leave me again!” Her face crumpled and she covered her mouth, though her weeping gaze refused to leave him. “I cannot bear to be alone.”
He stood and cradled her head against his chest. “Then you shall not be alone.”
Her hot tears bled through his shirt, as if to seep through his skin and coat his heart. He’d seen her upset, aye, but never so distressed.
With a gasp she pulled away and gripped his shoulders. Her chest pumped and her expression drooped. “I wasn’t going to tell you—I should say, I planned to tell you in the beginning—then I decided against it when I feared perhaps it wouldn’t make any difference, but I’m so afraid, and I tried to be brave, I tried to tell myself all would be well and that I should focus my attentions on being a good wife, but—”
“Anna, calm yourself.” He would have chuckled at her endless stream of words if the lingering panic in her eyes didn’t caution him otherwise. After he’d held her gaze and a measure of the anxiety in her muscles eased, he spoke again, low and loving. “Tell me.”
She swallowed. “I saw him.”
“Who do you mean?”
Her chin quivered but her voice stayed calm. “The man who attacked me. He was in town yesterday morning with the sheriff searching for me.” More tears pooled. “I tried to tell you, but Eliza had her baby then you went to help the men.” Now her voice quivered and she turned to look behind her. “I knew you would be hungry when you returned, so I tried to make you a good meal and take my mind away from my troubles, but I’ve failed again. On both counts.” A sob shook her shoulders and she dropped her face into her hands.
That old familiar warning, the one that cautioned against succumbing to a woman’s tears blared like a war-cry, but William smacked it away. She could not have fabricated such a story. The grief in her face and the fear in her eyes testified of that. And to think she’d had to keep such a burden to herself for so many hours.
Gathering her close, the weapons in his protective arsenal primed, ready for battle. What kind of demon was this man? That he would refuse to give up his search for her when it was clear she had no intention of ever going with him.
When her tears were spent, he eased her back. “Did you hear anything else? Anything that could be helpful in knowing if they are still in town?”
She shook her head, dabbing at her nose with her apron. “I did not. ’Tis a miracle I wasn’t seen.”
A miracle indeed. He swept a tear-sopped strand from her cheek and lowered his chin to meet her misdirected stare. “I will keep you safe, Anna.”
“Will you?”
He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “I promise.”
“I can hardly keep my mind on anything else.” Her voice wobbled, matching the quivering of her body. “I cannot release this fear that he will find me and return me to England…” She covered her mouth and looked down, attempting to hide the sob that scrunched her face.
William smoothed his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, holding her tight above the elbows. “Anna, listen to me.” He increased the gentle pressure of his grip, putting as much depth, as much strength into his voice as he could. “I give you my word that you will never return to England.”
Anna lifted her eyes, those long, lacy lashes flecked with tears. She searched him, her clear blue gaze twining with his. Something tugged within him, tightening the strings that mended the shredded bits of his spirit he believed would remain forever torn. Such trust in her eyes. Such unwavering faith. What would she think…if she knew the truth of me—knew that I am Henry and not William?
He released his hold, fighting against the demons that pricked from behind. ’Twas right to keep the truth from her. She was safer not knowing. The reasons for his silence were clear.