“Food waits in your bedchamber and the servants will prepare a bath if you wish. We will talk on the morrow.”
He went to stand and Erland went to help him, but he collapsed against the table before Erland could reach him.
Ruddock rushed to the dais, Sorrell hurrying along with him.
“I will see to him,” Erland said, blocking Ruddock from reaching his father.
“Who sees to his care?” Sorrell demanded.
“That is not your worry, my lady,” Erland said.
“Go, I need no help,” his father said, his words etched with pain.
“Nonsense,” Sorrell said, pushing past her husband and jabbing Erland to move out of her way.
The man was so shocked by her actions that he moved.
Sorrell felt the old man’s brow. It was damp but not feverish. “You are in pain, are you not?”
“Go away,” he ordered and winced, answering her query.
Sorrell looked to her husband. “Can you carry him to his bedchamber?”
“No,” his father commanded.
Ruddock paid his father’s protest no heed. He went to him and pulled his chair away from the table to be able to lift him more easily.
“You’ll not touch me,” his father demanded.
“You’re too ill to do anything, old man. I rule now!” Ruddock commanded and lifted his father in his arms, shocked by how thin he had gotten.
Sorrell followed her husband, wrinkling her nose at the foul odor drifting off the old man, while Erland rushed ahead of them.
“I can walk,” his father snapped, then groaned.
“Say what you will, it matters not. It is my word now you will pay heed to.”
“You think I will allow you command?” his father argued.
“You have no choice just like you gave me none,” Ruddock spat.
His father’s blue eyes teemed with anger. “You seek revenge.”
“I seek justice, old man,” Ruddock said, anger filling his own eyes.
It took several steps to reach Lord Finn’s bedchamber, Erland there waiting for them.
“I’ll get the brew the healer has him drink to help with the pain,” Erland said and rushed out of the room.
Ruddock placed his father on the bed, sitting him up to rest against the headboard of a large bed. He had had it built special to accommodate his large size. Now he looked lost in the massive bed.
“Where does it pain you?” Sorrell asked, approaching the bed.
“That does not concern you,” Finn said, turning his head as if dismissing her.
Sorrell went to open the heavy curtains that shut out all light, a good-sized fire in the hearth and a few candles providing the only light in the large room.
“Don’t open them,” Finn ordered.
“Let him be in his misery and stench,” Ruddock said.
“Aye, get out. Let me be,” Finn ordered.
Ruddock turned away from his father and walked to the door. “Let me know when you want to talk, old man.”
Sorrell caught the glisten of tears in the old man’s eyes.
“Be gone with you,” he said to her with a nasty growl.
Sorrell turned and joined her husband waiting just outside the door.
They passed Erland rushing up the stairs as they went down, not an easy task with her husband’s size.
She scrunched her nose as Erland slipped slowly past her, the smell from the tankard turning her stomach. She didn’t know how the old man could drink it.
Once inside Ruddock’s bedchamber, she glanced around. It was three times the size of her room back home. There wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt and recently made rush mats lay in on the floor throughout the room. The bedding on the large bed was fresh and the blankets folded back.
A table, with an assortment of food sat atop, and two chairs sat beneath one of the two windows. A good-sized hearth, with a hewn mantel above, kept the room cozy warm. A series of pegs ran along one wall, several garments hanging from them.
Sorrell was glad to see that the heavy drapes on the windows had been left pulled back, letting light in the room. Not that there was much since the skies were gray.
Ruddock stood by the hearth, his hand braced on the mantel, staring at the flames.
A knock sounded at the door and Sorrell went to it, seeing that her husband hadn’t heard it.
“My lady,” a man said with a respectful bob of his head. “Is Lord Ruddock here?”
“Come in, Erskine,” Ruddock called out and Sorrell stepped aside to let the man enter.
He went straight to her husband. He was of fair height and slender and he wore his gray hair short. His features were plain and his posture slightly stooped.
“Forgive me, my lord, for not being there to welcome you home. There was a problem in the kitchen,” Erskine explained.
“Pay it no mind, Erskine. I didn’t expect a warm welcome,” Ruddock said. “How long has my father been ill?”
That her husband should ask that of this man made Sorrell think he trusted him.
“Far too long and he grows worse lately.”