Pain shot through me immediately.
My hand gripped the carved wooden bedpost for support as dizziness crashed over me once more, my body protesting every movement. My head pounded violently beneath the bandages, while weakness pulled heavily at my limbs.
But how could I stay still?
The Romans were here.
And with them—
Marcus.
The last image I had of him flashed sharply through my mind. On his knees. Blood spreading across his chest. Garrick's dagger buried straight through him.
My stomach twisted painfully.
I had to see him.
"Where exactly do you think you are going, my lady?"
Mildred's voice cut sharply through the room the moment the physician clicked the door shut, disappearing down the corridor.
I turned to find her standing there with both hands planted firmly against her hips, staring at me with the same disapproving expression my mother used to wear whenever she caught me sneaking biscuits before dinner as a child.
"I am going outside," I bit out, forcing myself another step forward despite the room tilting dangerously around me. My hands curled tightly at my sides as I fought through the pain. "I wish to see what is happening."
Truthfully, I could barely walk properly. My legs felt weak enough that I probably needed a cane, just until I could get my bearings. My vision still swam whenever I moved too quickly.
But I did not care.
Mildred walked over immediately and caught hold of my arm before I could take another step.
"You heard the healer," she scolded. "You are meant to rest."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut in. "I shall have the servants prepare a warm bath for you. Gods know what horrors you have endured already, but you are to remain inside this chamber."
"The Romans—"
"Are none of your concern," she interrupted sharply. "Danger follows those men wherever they go."
Her grip tightened slightly on my arm.
"Lord Gwrgenau shall handle them. Such matters are not meant for ladies."
Mildred gave me a look that made it very clear that she had dealt with stubborn people long before I arrived in this century. Little did she knew, so did I.
But I was weak. Before I could protest even further, she firmly ushered me back toward the bed.
"Sit," she ordered.
Too weak to properly resist, I finally relented with a frustrated breath as she guided me carefully onto the mattress once more.
"There now," she muttered. "Acting as though you are marching into battle with half your head split open."
She crossed the room briskly afterward and pulled a small bronze bell from the table beside the fireplace, ringing it sharply.
Almost immediately, several servant girls hurried into the chamber. One of them the same young one that stood guard while I was unconscious.
"You two," Mildred instructed, pointing toward the windows, "open them. Let fresh air through before this room smells entirely of herbs and sickness."
The girls obeyed quickly, pushing open the wooden shutters just enough for cool countryside air to drift through the chamber. The breeze stirred the pale curtains softly while sunlight spilled across the floor in warm strips.
"And prepare the bath," Mildred continued. "The lady requires proper washing."
The next hour passed in a strange haze.
Warm water steeped with herbs.
Soft hands helping wash blood from my skin, and none of them seemed to be fazed by my nakedness.
Afterward, they dressed me in a simple dark blue gown made from soft wool dyed richly enough to suggest nobility without excessive extravagance. The color deepened the shade of my dark brown hair, while the long sleeves hid most of my bruises from view.
Finally, Mildred herself adjusted a light white headscarf carefully around my hair, ensuring it concealed the uneven strands cut away for the stitches.
"There," she said with quiet satisfaction. "Much better."
I barely had time to look down at myself before another knock sounded at the chamber door.
Mildred opened it immediately, then fell into a curtsy.
Lord Gwrgenau stood there.
And for the first time since meeting him, he looked momentarily speechless.
Several leather-bound scrolls and books rested against one arm, though his grip loosened slightly the moment his blue eyes widened, as they took me in. Lingering far longer than propriety likely allowed.
Something unreadable crossed his expression then.
Not merely surprise, admiration perhaps.
Or fascination.
The afternoon light spilling through the opened windows catching briefly against his features as he stared, and I suddenly understood with sharp clarity that this man had not expected me to look like this at all.
"You seemed...recovered already," he said finally, though his eyes had lowered slightly now. "Beautiful."
His eyes still did not leave me.
Somewhere behind Lord Gwrgenau, I caught the faintest glimpse of Mildred smiling to herself before she began ushering the other servant women from the chamber.
The girls hurried out quickly, lowering their heads respectfully as they passed him. A moment later, the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind them.
Leaving only the two of us inside his bedroom.
I stood awkwardly near the center of the chamber while he remained by the doorway, tall and imposing against the dim light of the corridor beyond. Behind me, the open windows allowed cool winds to drift softly through the room, stirring the edges of my headscarf and the sleeves of my gown.
The silence stretched just long enough to become noticeable.
"Thank you," I said at last, my eyes dropping toward the scrolls and books tucked beneath his arm. "Did you bring those for me?"
"Yes," he answered after clearing his throat quietly, as though only now remembering why he had come here in the first place.
Crossing the room, he placed the collection carefully upon the small table near the fireplace beside me.
"I thought they might interest you," he said. "Or at the very least, help pass the time while you recover."
I glanced briefly over the titles. Some were written on leather-bound books, others on rolled scrolls tied neatly with a leather cord.
These must be of history, poetry or religious texts.
"You mean while I remain trapped here?" I asked lightly, though there was sharper meaning beneath the words.
His eyes lifted back toward mine immediately.
"You are not trapped."
"Aren't I?"
For the first time, amusement touched the corners of his mouth.
"You are free to walk the estate once your strength returns," he replied calmly. "I simply would not permit you wandering beyond my lands unattended in your condition."
There it was again, that strange blend between courtesy and control, similar to the way Marcus was with me. Only, this was era-appropriate. Unfortunately.
"But within this house," he continued, gesturing lightly around us, "you are welcome to explore as you wish."
"Thank you for the books and scrolls," I said carefully. "But I am capable of managing myself. I shall be out of your way soon enough."
"Not until I discover who you are," he replied calmly. "And where you came from."
My eyes narrowed immediately.
The audacity of this man.
He must have noticed the look on my face, because something faintly amused flickered across his expression before disappearing again just as quickly.
"I am responsible for these lands," he continued, taking another slow step toward me. "People depend upon me for their safety. I do not know who harmed you, how you arrived here, or whether there are others searching for you even now."
The closer he came, the more unsettling the resemblance became.
Not merely to Garrick, but to the version of Garrick that was untouched by modern softness. Stripped down into something older, sharper. More dangerous.
"You appeared alone," he said. "Unconscious beside sacred ground. Wearing strange garments unlike any I have seen before."
His gaze swept briefly over me again before returning to my face.
"And unless customs differ greatly wherever you are from, I would assume you are unmarried. There was no ring upon your hand when I found you."
My stomach tightened faintly.
Marcus.
"I could be married," I replied quietly.
Something shifted in his expression then.
Not pity, but interest.
"Perhaps," he allowed. "But until I know the truth, you remain under my protection."
The words were polite.
But there was an unmistakable command beneath them.
"You may think me overbearing if you wish," he continued evenly. "Yet no honorable lord would permit an unattached woman to wander alone across Britannia in times such as these."
Then, after the slightest pause, his voice lowered.
"So until we uncover who you truly are, Helena...you shall remain by my side."