Page 53 of Slippers and Thorns
After staring into the fire and watching him surreptitiously for a quarter of an hour, during which time his breathing grew slow and even, Ella cautiously rose to fetch a book. Michael’s eyes slid halfway open when she stood, but they drooped again after a second or two.
She read for about an hour until her own eyes grew heavy. Michael still hadn’t stirred. Unwilling to take the chance, though, she gave his chair a wide berth when she crossed the room to dig a nightgown out of her saddlebag. She slipped into the washroom to change and prepare for bed.
On her return to the bedroom, Ella pulled back the bedcovers and paused. She looked at Michael again. He still wore his boots, but his hands were limp where they hung from the armrests. His mouth had fallen open slightly, too.
Is he truly asleep?she wondered. Admittedly, with as long as he had already sat unmoving in the chair, he had to be an extraordinary, patient actor if he wasn’t. It was unlike him, though, to doze off in a chair.
Curiosity got the better of her – that, and the realization that she should add another log to the dying fire before going to bed – and she crept closer to him. She grabbed a length of wood from the bin and tossed it into the fireplace, then turned to examine her husband.
Maybe it was only the flickering light of the fire in the dim room, but there were shadows under his eyes that she didn’t remember noticing before. His breathing was deep and a hair away from a snore. Even when she leaned over him, there was no reaction.
It wasn’t cold next to the fire, but Ella didn’t want to wake him and risk him being affectionate in his half-awake state. Yet she didn’t feel right about leaving him as he was all night, either, so she pulled a blanket off the bed and laid it over him.
He must be exhausted,she thought. Her heart softened slightly as she adjusted the blanket without any visible response.All of his meetings must be wearing on him more than I realized.
Her back stiffened. Yes, all of those meetings, and even though they were clearly straining him, it took his father forcibly sending him on a trip to make him give up even one of his responsibilities. He couldn’t do it to teach her archery when his father ordered him to. He wouldn’t have done it now to spend time with her if it had been up to him.
Ella dropped the edge of the blanket and marched back to the bed. She had briefly considered trying to remove his boots, but no – his fatigue was his own fault. He should have taken them off himself before settling into the chair.
She angrily pulled the covers over her shoulders and settled herself on her left side near the edge of the bed. If he woke during the night and moved to the bed, she wasn’t going to give him the excuse of not having enough room on the small mattress to avoid her. And if he slept in the chair all night…it was no skin off her nose.
The air on her face was cold; the fire must have gone out during the night. Ella burrowed deeper under the covers and snuggled into the warmth next to her. Stretching her left hand out across the cloth-covered source, she nestled the right side of her face against the surprisingly firm pillow – and froze when her half-asleep brain caught up with the sensations that she was feeding it.
Instantly awake, Ella shot upright and threw herself to the other side of the bed. Fearful of what she would find, she cracked her eyes open and surveyed the rest of the room.
The fireplace was indeed dark, the fire long since out. The blanket she had used to cover Michael was in a crumpled heap next to the armchair where she had left him. Ella felt a moment of annoyance that he hadn’t spread it back over the bed to help fight off the night chill, but only until she transferred her gaze to the other side of the bed.
Michael was sprawled on his back, his left arm across his chest and his left leg under the covers, but his right arm and leg dangling off the bed. One of his boots lay on its side on the floor next to him, but the other boot was still on his right foot. It looked as if he had sat down, pulled off the one boot, and then laid back and immediately fallen asleep again after dragging the sheets over his chest.
And then she, seeking heat in her sleep during the cold night – or so she told herself – had rolled over and cuddled up to him.
At least he appeared to still be out of it. She shuddered to imagine how he would take her sleep-befuddled actions compared to their conversation yesterday.
Although it might delay their travel, Ella decided not to wake him just yet. If he was as worn out as he seemed to be, it would be kinder – even if she wasn’t feeling kind – to let him sleep now. Otherwise, he would be forced to put in a long day of riding and wait until they reached their destination to catch up on his rest. She puttered around for a little while, picking up the discarded blanket and spreading it out on the bed, setting out clothes for them to wear, and the like. She would have relit the fire to get the room started warming back up, but she didn’t have the necessary tools.
Finally, when Michael still showed no signs of coming out of hibernation, she moved along to preparing herself for the day. Once she was dressed and had her hair fixed, she cast one last judgmental look at her passed-out husband before slipping out of the door to go eat breakfast.
Two guardsmen aimlessly wandering the hallway nodded politely to her as they passed. She noted the furrowed brow of one – probably wondering why she was alone. Neither made any comment.
Henry and Jake were standing next to a window in the dining room, each with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, when Ella walked in. The window happened to be next to a table set with covered dishes containing the breakfast food, to be served buffet style.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Henry greeted her as she approached the table. “Where is your husband this morning?”
“Good morning,” Ella replied as if she had never seen him before the previous evening. “I’m afraid he has been working himself too hard lately and has overslept. I am sure he will be down shortly.” She wasn’t sure of anything of the kind, but what was she supposed to say when they were supposedly strangers?
Jake glanced around the mostly-empty room before saying in a low voice, “You didn’t murder him in his sleep, did you?” There was a slight worried look in his eyes that belied his joking manner.
Ella forced a laugh. “Of course not. And I can’t believe you would say such a thing to a completestranger,” she lightly stressed through her teeth.
“Of course,” Jake replied with a sheepish glance at Henry, who was glaring at him. “I apologize; please forgive my impertinence.”
“Do not worry about it,” she replied with a mostly-natural smile. Smoothing her skirts and turning to Henry, she inquired, “How long will your company be here? I expected members of the guard to get an earlier start.”
“Ordinarily, we would,” Henry acknowledged. “However, we have a surprisingly relaxed schedule on this trip. I believe we will be leaving within the next hour, although our captain may send out a couple of scouts sooner. Perhaps I shall recommend he send young Jacob, since he is unable to conduct himself in polite company.” Henry narrowed his eyes at his companion with this last sentence.
Ella hid a smile at Jake’s ducked head. “I wish you well on your journey.” She dipped her head in a brief nod, picked up a plate, and began collecting her food, leaving her guards to their coffee.
She idly pondered what the guards planned to do if Michael didn’t surface soon – they could only hang around the inn for so long, even with Henry’s claim of a “relaxed” schedule, before they would have to fabricate a believable reason for delaying their departure or for leaving some of their number behind. Would they connive some way to ask her to drag him out of bed?
