He may have saved my life." Her voice faltered. "And if what
you say is true, then he also helped deliver my love from the depths
of the darkness. And to me, his name shall always be thrice blessed.
"Hold me, Michael, please. Don't ever let me go. Dear God!"
"My only love, I promise you that. With all my soul, I promise you
that."
They put aside all further talk until the morning, and made their bed
together for the first time. Michael was too ill, and she herself too
weary, to make love. And without any words this was understood between
them. They found joy and solace instead in the slow, gentle caress
many lovers never feel, because they do not first feel love. Their
passion would come when the skies above them were less dark, and when
the fruit was ripe on the tree. Not before.
They slept far into the overcast morning. And when they rose a further
bond had been established between them, that no earthly trial could
ever put asunder.
He was a man, and she was his woman.
Eighteen
The Lord Henry Purceville, Governor of MacPherson Castle and the
Northern Garrison, awoke in the worst possible humor.
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