Free Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] by Border Moonlight Page B

rescuer’s obstructive nature.
    Tetsy had been right about the sloshing. Water streamed off the table to the flagstone floor and into a shallow, curved alcove at the near end of the table. Dubiously eyeing the water’s depth, she hoped the floor could also dry by morning.
    A large flour bin and a wooden tub that doubtless held lard or goose grease were all that stood on the alcove floor, but smaller supplies occupied two shallow shelves. Baker’s utensils hung from iron wall hooks, as did baskets of fruit and nuts.
    Most of the spilled water had pooled at the innermost part of the alcove curve, where the flagstone floor met the wall. Water there was nearly an inch deep, so they would have to sop it up with a towel.
    As the thought crossed her mind, she saw in the dim glow cast there by the fire that the water was rapidly disappearing. With relief, she decided that a crack between the flagstones was eliminating that problem for them.
    Tetsy returned with more water and a second basin, saying, “Two will serve us better than one. If ye’ll hold your hair over one, I’ll pour this water for ye.”
    She did so, and had paused to let Sibylla work her hair so the clean water would remove the remaining dirt, when a voice in the kitchen startled them both.
    Straightening to grab the pail from Tetsy, Sibylla whispered, “See who that is. Say you were steeping my poultice and stepped in here to warm yourself.”
    Tetsy nodded, but as she went into the kitchen, Sibylla heard the voice again clearly—Simon’s voice. Backing against the wall, dripping and feeling just as a child in mischief might, she wondered what she could say to him if he caught her and how on earth she could protect Tetsy from the consequences.
    Simon touched Kit’s shoulder and pointed to the pallet in the chimney corner. “See, lassie,” he said. “Cook fixed you a good place to sleep till we can return you to your family. He’s left you a quilt, too, so you’ll be comfortable.”
    “Aye, laird, but I’d rather stay with Dand. He seems none so well yet.”
    “Then we must let him rest as much as he can,” Simon said. He had not liked the look of the lad, who had swallowed more of the filthy river water than was good for anyone. Hodge said the boy had thrown up most of what he’d taken in, but he had exhausted himself swimming after Kit.
    After a long but unproductive discussion of raiders with Jed, Simon had gone to check on the lad and found Kit curled up beside him in the bed. He’d have left her there had Dand not looked up at him with pleading eyes.
    “I need t’ piss, laird,” he muttered hoarsely when Simon raised his eyebrows. “But I’m afeard I’ll wake her if I move.”
    Setting down his candlestick, Simon scooped Kit up. “She ought not to sleep here with you in any event,” he said. “I think you’ve caught cold, and she may catch it from you. Can you get up by yourself? The night jar’s in yon corner.”
    Dand hastily assured him that he could manage, but his progress to the jar was unsteady. Simon said nothing, waiting patiently until the boy was back in bed.
    Kit wakened as he carried her down to the kitchen, but he thought she would fall asleep again quickly in the chimney corner.
    She eyed the shadowy space dourly, muttering, “It be dark there.”
    “Not as dark as Dand’s room,” he said. “The glow from those coals and from yon bakehouse archway will let you see well enough.” As he spoke, he noted a change in the glow and saw Tetsy appear in the archway.
    She bobbed a jerky curtsy. “I’ll look after her, laird,” she said. “I-I came down to fix another poultice for her ladyship.”
    “In the bakehouse?”
    “Nay, sir.” She gestured to the kitchen fire. “ ’Tis on the hob by yon kettle. I’d stepped into the bakehouse, looking for Jack, when I heard your voice.”
    “Is her ladyship not settling in comfortably for the night?”
    “Her head be troubling her,” she said. “But yon poultice will