you can say will change them or make me change my mind, so you might as well forget the subject entirely.”
Colin clenched his teeth. If she wouldna speak with him, he’d find someone who would. But no with Sorcha about. The woman had more secrets than pharaoh had slaves, and she clung to them just as tightly. He would have to play Moses and get her to let her secrets go.
He shrugged with pretended indifference and changed the subject. Let her think he’d forget; he wouldna. ’Twas too important. ’Twas vital, he assured himself, that he know every detail about Sorcha to be able to convince her to trust him completely. Nor could he protect her properly from traitors if she hid potential threats from him.
You are neither father, brother, nor husband to her
.
He didna care. He’d put her in this situation and protect her he would. He’d do the same for any of his men.
“Do you think Henry forgot? ’Tis pure famished I am.” Colin let his empty stomach distract him from his circling thoughts. ’Twould nae be the first time he used hunger to distract himself. With winter arriving early and turning harsh, food had been scarce coming north in November. Sometimes hunger had been the only thing standing between him and a misery of regret. Still, he’d anticipated enjoying good food when he arrived home. Instead, necessity forced him to indulge in an invalid’s meals and pretend to tolerate poisonous porridge from Lady Agnes.
“You’ll nae starve,” Sorcha commented, breaking in on his thoughts. “If Henry doesna bring you a tray before I’m done picking up this mess, I’ll get you food myself. Those who visit you talk, and I’ll nae have every person in the clan thinking I allow my husband to lie sick in a pigsty.”
Colin’s patience all but broke. Perhaps Brice had died of starvation. If his stepmother’s swill from last night was any example of the fare Strathnaver served to the sick, could the fare for the hale be much better? Nonetheless, keeping to his vow of caution, he waited as Sorcha bent, lifted, folded, put away, and in general did everything she could to avoid him while being in the same room. She was folding the coverlet on her pallet when a knock sounded.
“Sir Henry Marr to see his brother,” announced a deep male voice.
“Just a moment.” She headed for the door but turned to look at Colin before she opened it.
He sank down into the bed, nodding at her.
Colin’s mouth began to water the moment the door opened. The scent of sausage, potatoes, and what he hoped was buttered honey buns nearly propelled him from the bed.
Keep still. A man but a short walk from death’s door doesna find new life from a mere whiff of food
.
“Good morning, Henry,” Sorcha was saying. “I’m surprised your mother dinna send her fortifying porridge.”
“She did.” The younger male voice chuckled. “But cook changed out the tray when mother said she would be talking with the priest for a while.”
“Then the earl’s prayers have been answered, for he was little pleased with last night’s supper.”
Colin could hear the smile in Sorcha’s voice.
“No one could be pleased with my mother’s porridge. Sir Broc, put the tray on that table over by the window. I would break my fast with my brother. And my sister-in-law may have some much needed time to herself in the fresh air.”
“Oh, I don’t know if the earl is strong enough…”
“Do nae worry, Sorcha. If need be, I will feed Brice. I promise to nae tire him,” Henry said.
Please, please, please go, Colin mentally begged, though some base part of him wanted her to stay.
“Very well, but I must check on Brice first and make sure he feels able to visit. Wait at the table. If he’s awake, I’ll bring him to you.”
“Are you certain you don’t wish my help?”
“Absolutely.”
Footsteps shuffled about the room and soon Sorcha turned back the bedcovers. She bent to help Colin sit, as she would for a patient just starting to
Colin clenched his teeth. If she wouldna speak with him, he’d find someone who would. But no with Sorcha about. The woman had more secrets than pharaoh had slaves, and she clung to them just as tightly. He would have to play Moses and get her to let her secrets go.
He shrugged with pretended indifference and changed the subject. Let her think he’d forget; he wouldna. ’Twas too important. ’Twas vital, he assured himself, that he know every detail about Sorcha to be able to convince her to trust him completely. Nor could he protect her properly from traitors if she hid potential threats from him.
You are neither father, brother, nor husband to her
.
He didna care. He’d put her in this situation and protect her he would. He’d do the same for any of his men.
“Do you think Henry forgot? ’Tis pure famished I am.” Colin let his empty stomach distract him from his circling thoughts. ’Twould nae be the first time he used hunger to distract himself. With winter arriving early and turning harsh, food had been scarce coming north in November. Sometimes hunger had been the only thing standing between him and a misery of regret. Still, he’d anticipated enjoying good food when he arrived home. Instead, necessity forced him to indulge in an invalid’s meals and pretend to tolerate poisonous porridge from Lady Agnes.
“You’ll nae starve,” Sorcha commented, breaking in on his thoughts. “If Henry doesna bring you a tray before I’m done picking up this mess, I’ll get you food myself. Those who visit you talk, and I’ll nae have every person in the clan thinking I allow my husband to lie sick in a pigsty.”
Colin’s patience all but broke. Perhaps Brice had died of starvation. If his stepmother’s swill from last night was any example of the fare Strathnaver served to the sick, could the fare for the hale be much better? Nonetheless, keeping to his vow of caution, he waited as Sorcha bent, lifted, folded, put away, and in general did everything she could to avoid him while being in the same room. She was folding the coverlet on her pallet when a knock sounded.
“Sir Henry Marr to see his brother,” announced a deep male voice.
“Just a moment.” She headed for the door but turned to look at Colin before she opened it.
He sank down into the bed, nodding at her.
Colin’s mouth began to water the moment the door opened. The scent of sausage, potatoes, and what he hoped was buttered honey buns nearly propelled him from the bed.
Keep still. A man but a short walk from death’s door doesna find new life from a mere whiff of food
.
“Good morning, Henry,” Sorcha was saying. “I’m surprised your mother dinna send her fortifying porridge.”
“She did.” The younger male voice chuckled. “But cook changed out the tray when mother said she would be talking with the priest for a while.”
“Then the earl’s prayers have been answered, for he was little pleased with last night’s supper.”
Colin could hear the smile in Sorcha’s voice.
“No one could be pleased with my mother’s porridge. Sir Broc, put the tray on that table over by the window. I would break my fast with my brother. And my sister-in-law may have some much needed time to herself in the fresh air.”
“Oh, I don’t know if the earl is strong enough…”
“Do nae worry, Sorcha. If need be, I will feed Brice. I promise to nae tire him,” Henry said.
Please, please, please go, Colin mentally begged, though some base part of him wanted her to stay.
“Very well, but I must check on Brice first and make sure he feels able to visit. Wait at the table. If he’s awake, I’ll bring him to you.”
“Are you certain you don’t wish my help?”
“Absolutely.”
Footsteps shuffled about the room and soon Sorcha turned back the bedcovers. She bent to help Colin sit, as she would for a patient just starting to
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