“What does the healer say?” Ruddock asked.
“She says he has the rotting illness and dies a little each day.”
“The clan is now under my rule. You will bring all problems and issues concerning the keep to me,” Ruddock instructed.
“The problems and issues of the keep are my duties,” Sorrell said.
Ruddock looked to his wife and she was struck by the sorrow in his eyes. This had not been an easy day for him and she would not add to his burden.
“I’m sure with Erskine’s guidance and tutoring, I can learn the workings of the keep and in time fulfill my duties so that Erskine and I may work well together.”
“I would be pleased to teach you all you need to know and pleased to work with you, my lady,” Erskine said.
Sorrell smiled. “I appreciate that Erskine, perhaps we can start tomorrow.”
“I will be available when you are ready,” he said with a bob of his head.
“In the meantime, do you think a bath could be prepared for Lord Ruddock and for me?”
“It is being done as we speak, my lady. Lord Ruddock’s bath waits in his washroom and yours has been prepared in your private bedchamber.”
“Thank you, Erskine,” Ruddock said as a way of dismissing him.
The man understood and took his leave.
“My bedchamber?” She shook her head. “I sleep where you sleep.”
He smiled, reached out, and took her in his arms, wanting to feel her warmth, her love. “This is your only bedchamber, wife. Do what you will with the other room. And thank you for being so wise and working with Erskine.”
She pressed her cheek to his chest and hugged him. “He seems pleasant.”
“He is a good man. I trusted him once.”
She raised her head off his chest to look up at him. “But not anymore?”
“I don’t know who to trust anymore, except you.” He kissed her briefly.
“I love your kisses,” she said with a soft sigh, “and I love you.”
His mouth opened as if to speak but nothing fell from his lips.
Sorrell tapped his lips with her finger. “One day, husband, you will say what I already know… that you love me.” She slipped out of his arms. “Now let’s get to those baths so we can return here and enjoy the food and that bed, and preferably not in that order.”
“On that we agree, wife,” he said and he hoped that she understood that he meant he agreed with everything she had said.
Sorrell couldn’t wait to get out of her garments and into the bath water. Four days’ travel and much of it in rain had her eager to get clean. She only wished the two, young servant lassies attending her were a bit friendlier. They barely looked at her and whispered far too much between themselves.
By the time she stood in nothing more than her shift, she’d had enough.
“Is there a reason neither of you say a word to me, or refuse to look me in the eye?”
Both women were stunned and stared at her in silence.
“You have no answer for me,” she asked when both remained silent.
They both shook their heads.
“Then leave me, you will tend me no more,” she ordered, missing her sisters more than ever at that moment.
The two ran from the room.
Sorrell shook her head and went and sat by the warmth of the hearth, her interest in the bath waning. She didn’t know what was going on here, but something was amiss. It seemed too much was amiss in her husband’s home and with his father. She had watched her mum tend many illnesses since she was young. Never had she smelled anything as bad as that brew Erland was taking to Ruddock’s father. And never would she understand how Finn Northwick could treat his son so badly and want him dead.
What surprised her the most is what a good man and husband Ruddock was for what he had been through. He was kind, tender, and passionate with her, and she loved everything about him. She wished he was here now and they could bathe together.
She cast a glance at the round, wooden bath tub draped with cloth, and grinned. He’d never fit in it and if she did bathe with him they’d probably wind up doing more than only washing.
She looked down at her chest, her nipples hard and poking at the shift, and she thought about her husband’s mouth on them. The sensation that sparked to life between her legs had her warning herself to stop thinking about him.
The door swung open.
Please, please, let it be her husband, she pleaded silently.
A plump woman, who stood at least a head above Sorrell’s height entered the room. Her red hair was a mass of curls similar to Sorrel’s and her pretty face was defined by a friendly smile.
“I’m Blodwen, my lady. Erskine sent me to tend you. Surprised me he did, since I’m usually relegated to chores where my chatter doesn’t bother or offend anyone, and I’m not one to judge. Well, not too often anyway,” she said with a hardy laugh. “And I can hold my tongue when needed or asked, not like most around here.”