He gave her back the flask with a kindly look. “Keep it, aye? For the warmth.”
It didn’t escape her that the container was dear to him, since its sheen revealed it to be silver rather than pewter. “Ye trust me with something so costly?” In her time, it would cost a bloody fortune. It couldn’t be cheap in his.
“Are ye a thief?”
“Of course not!” she snapped before picking up on his teasing tone. “Forgive me. It has been a verra long day.”
He directed her attention to the wagon. “Fix yer pallet, mistress, and rest. Calder laid out extra blankets for yerself and young Robbie. Even that far from the fire, ye should be warm enough. I shall have the lad bring ye an oatcake or two to fill yer wame till morning, aye?”
“That is verra kind of ye,” she said, and meant it this time. “Thank ye.”
He gifted her with a smile that made her feel as if she were the only person in the world deserving of his attention. “Ye will find I am a verra kind and generous man, Mistress Abernathy.”
She didn’t respond, just hurried to the wagon, unable to decide if his kindness and generosity were good or bad.
Chapter Three
“She ate naughtbut half an oatcake last night.” Teague stirred the fire while watching the lovely Mistress Abernathy sleeping beneath a pile of blankets. He kept his voice low. Not only to keep from disturbing the lady, but also to shield his words from her son. Young Master Robbie sat on the other side of the fire talking nonstop to Bhric.
“She slept well, though.” Calder snorted with an amused huff. “Snored so loud I thought a rutting boar had found us.”
Teague chuckled and turned his attention to the boy. “Good lad, that one.”
“Robbie! Robbie!”
The boy jumped up and ran to the wagon. “It’s all right, Mi. I am here.”
Her quiet sobs of relief interspersed with harried whispers tore at Teague’s heart. What tragedies had these two endured? Perhaps she would warm to him a bit more today and finally share her story.
He ladled the last of the morning broth into a cup and ambled over. “Something to help warm ye, Mistress Abernathy. A bit of soup to break yer fast.”
She peered up at him. Her dark curls, tempting in their loose messiness, tumbled around her shoulders. Her strange tunic, a faded blue material that buttoned up the front, had come undone down to her breasts. A tempting expanse of flesh and a peek of her stays’ lacy edging made it impossible for him to look away.
As she moved to accept the cup, he forced himself to lift his gaze to her eyes.
“Thank ye,” she said quietly.
With a hand propped on the wagon, he crouched to join her at her level. He itched to know more about this fetching woman and her son. “Did ye rest at all?”
She realized her shirt sagged open and disappointed him by hurrying to button it. “I rested fine, thank ye.”
“Camping turned out to be all right, eh, Mi?” Robbie squatted next to them, fidgeting with a chain hanging off the side of the wagon. “Bhric said I can help with the team, so I am off to do that, aye?”
Worry filled her face. “Dinna get stepped on. By the horses or anything else, ye ken?”
The lad rolled his eyes, waved away her warning, and scampered off.
“I mean it,” she called after him, only to be ignored. “I hate how he dives in headfirst into everything with no caution or fear.”
“The young think themselves immortal.” Teague rose to his feet as she crawled out from under the wagon and stood beside him.
She kept her focus locked on the lad.
“Dinna fash yerself, mistress. He will learn. Ye wouldna wish him to be cowardly and hold back.”
“A wee bit of cowardice might keep him alive longer.” She leaned to one side to improve her view and continued watching the boy.
“Children learn what they see,” he said. “His mother doesna show the traits of a coward. Why should he?”
