A Forbidden Love by Alexandra Benedict

purpose, and then, five years ago, when I cured my father of sickness, the council agreed it was my talent, that I should be trained as a future healer.”
    He nodded. “Then I must ask Ashley to scrounge up some apple cider.” He set the tray aside and rinsed the linen in the saline wash before spreading the moist cloth back over her forehead. “Until tomorrow, though, this compress will have to suffice. Now try and get some sleep.”
    “And…ah…where will you be sleeping?”
    “Over there.” He indicated with a nod toward the hearth, where the plush, cinnamon-brown sofa was positioned. “Goodnight, Sabrina.”
    He rose to his feet, tray in hand.
    She hoped it really would be a good night; she certainly longed for it. And on that wishful thought, she promptly gave way to the dreams already looming in her mind.
    Chapter 6
    A nthony slumped a shoulder against the bedpost, his eyes tightly fixed on a still sleeping Sabrina. She appeared blissfully content, her slumbering features tranquil, her breathing deep and steady. Quite a contrast from the outbursts that had plagued her the night before.
    Over the course of the evening, she’d muttered, cursed, prattled in some foreign language, and even wept. It had been the sound of her sobs that had finally prompted him to disturb her rest, but she’d soon drifted back into the realm of illusions, the dark images following suit, allowing her little, if any, peace.
    In truth, his own sleep hadn’t fared much better. For much of the night, he did little else than refresh the compress over her brow and listen to her incoherent ramblings, finding it bloody maddening that her assailants still pursued her in her dreams and he had no way of saving her this time. It wasn’t until dawn broke that her nightmares had come to an end and she’d quieted, her remaining repose without further incident.
    His gaze skipped over her to glance at the time. It was nearing ten o’clock. Breakfast was now being served below, and he was again conspicuously absent, though Ashley had assured him, when she’d come to deliver the morning meal, that she would tend to any concerns regarding his missing presence.
    His sister might fuss too much—about everything—but he was greatly obliged to her for all her assistance. He could not have concealed Sabrina thus far without Ashley’s help, and as soon as he was able to, he would demonstrate his gratitude by convincing her husband to take her on that trip to Paris she’d been longing for. Ashley certainly deserved the recuperation. And, with any luck, a holiday on the mainland might lessen her harried disposition and bring him some brotherly peace as well.
    With recuperation still on his mind, his thoughtful gaze returned to Sabrina, and he debated internally over whether or not he should wake her. She needed her rest after a grueling evening overwhelmed with nightmares, but she also needed her strength, and he felt it best that she eat while the tea, eggs, and ham were still warm.
    Having determined to rouse her, he pushed away from the bedpost. So as not to startle her by looming like some imposing titan, he dropped to one knee and gently nudged her arm.
    It was a few more shakes before those midnight-black lashes fluttered, and dried lips parted to murmur unintelligibly. She burrowed her fists into her eyes and yawned. Sluggish lids half concealed those beautiful blue eyes that now pinned on him.
    He smiled. “Good morning. How do you feel?”
    “A little better,” was her drowsy reply. “But my head still hurts.”
    “You need more time to recover.” He removed the compress and dropped it into the saline wash to saturate. “Breakfast is waiting.”
    She sniffed, the air filled with the scent of freshly cooked fare. “I have to get up first.”
    “Why?”
    “I had a bowl of soup for supper last night. Why do you think?”
    His eyes rounded in comprehension. “Yes, of course, I should have anticipated…Do you need assistance? I can