Alethia’s eyes filled with tears as memories poured through her, and once again the need to find a way home overwhelmed her. Nothing she could do about it right now, though, and someone here needed her help. Giving herself a shake, she looked up cures for dysentery. Wild indigo and barberry, did they grow here? It wouldn’t hurt to throw in some of her dried cranberries. They were known to inhibit bacteria.
The pages were brown, thick and textured. The pictures appeared to be hand drawn with black ink. Her book would pass for the period. Once the boy’s family saw the pictures of the plants she needed, and if they grew here, they’d be able to find them.
She dug through her first-aid kit, taking out a few Imodium A-D tablets, essential for working and eating at fairs week after week. It wouldn’t cure him, but it might control the symptoms until the medicine he needed could be made. Alethia placed her things in a basket. In the meantime, she’d cut the plaid for the child’s kilt and finish the moccasins she’d started for him.
She was punching new holes in a leather belt pulled from a pair of her jeans when her door opened. Two men carried a child-sized pine bed frame into her room and set it in the corner to the left of the hearth. Beth followed with a feather mattress and linens.
“This is perfect.” She ran her hand over the polished headboard. “I wasn’t expecting anything so fine.” She turned to Beth, who fussed at the two men. “Thank you.” She nodded to them as they left. “Beth, where did this come from?”
“From the nursery, and the young lord weren’t too pleased about it neither.”
“Do you mean the castle nursery? Malcolm knows about the bed?”
“Och, aye. I couldna take it without askin’ first, now could I? He awaits ye in the great hall.”
“Malcolm?”
“Aye. I’m to send ye down. He was muttering somethin’ fierce when I left.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Well, let’s go. I have what I need for the weaver’s son.” She picked up her basket and walked to the door. Beth didn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll stay here and make the lad’s bed ready. I’ll be there once ye’ve finished having your talk with the young lord.”
“Coward.”
Beth’s laughter followed Alethia down the corridor. Why would he be angry? Straightening her spine, she crossed the great hall to where he stood, an imposing figure with one foot on the hearth and his face set like stone. “You asked to see me?”
He turned to scowl at her. “Did I no’ tell you this morn should you need anything, anything at all, you are to come to me?”
“Yes.” She met his frown with one of her own. “But I didn’t think you meant it in a literal sense.”
He took his foot off the hearth and stepped toward her. “Had you come to me about the wee bed, I would have seen to it.”
“Why?”
“You’re my responsibility.”
“Because you found me by the side of the road? Is that what makes me your responsibility?”
“Nay. ’Tis because I choose to accept you as such.”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s responsibility. I want to earn my keep and take care of myself.”
“Whether you will it or no’, ’tis the way of things, and you’d best make peace with it.”
“Let’s see if I have this straight.” She looked away from him. “I can’t go beyond the curtain wall, I can’t fend for myself or see to my own needs, and you’d prefer it if I’d spend all my time in your mother’s solar. Have I covered everything?”
“Aye.” He looked pleased that she understood him so well.
Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Am I a prisoner here?”
“Nay, I wish only to keep you out of harm’s way.”
Overbearing, controlling alpha male. An ember started a slow burn inside her. “Maybe there’s a vacant cottage nearby the boy and I could move into.”
“You’ll no’ be moving anywhere.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “You’ll stay right here.”
“If I’m not a prisoner, why do I have to stay here?”
“Because you’re my…my…” He raked a hand through his hair.
“Responsibility.” Of course. All her anger dissipated. He and his father were responsible for everyone’s well-being, and she was just one more burden for him to carry. The last thing she wanted was to be anyone’s burden. “I’m sorry, Malcolm.” He appeared pleased with her apology, and she almost didn’t have the heart to clear up his misconception.