“Even if they are not, I think it will be fine.” Catherine smiled at the girl and walked into the rooms.
Mr. Wilkins had been efficient. The antechamber leading to what she believed was her bedroom was arranged with a small bed. A roaring fire burned, and someone had even managed to find an old stuffed creature and place it on the pillow. It was worn with age, and Catherine was unsure what it had once been, but it would give Oliver something soft to hold.
Oliver moved toward the bed, glancing over his shoulder at Catherine. He paused. She smiled at him. “Go on, it is yours.”
He took another tentative step toward the bed.
“Will that be all, Your Grace?” Martha asked.
“Yes, thank you, Martha.” Catherine heard the door click shut behind her and let out a sigh.
Annabelle helped her out of her traveling coat as Oliver climbed onto the bed. Catherine could see his eyes drooping and noticed the dark circles under them.
“Are you tired, Oliver?” She moved closer to him.
He looked at her briefly but did not nod or shake his head. He had not slept well during their stays in the inn, waking and whimpering throughout the night; she knew he must be exhausted.
“I expect you are rather tired. I know I would be after so much cake and traveling.” Catherine let out a long yawn.
Oliver yawned too. She smiled and gently drew back the covers. “Come on, let us tuck you in then.”
The boy scrambled beneath the thick bedclothes. His eyes flickered shut and then opened again as he sat bolt upright. He looked from Catherine to the door and back to Catherine again.
“I am right here.” She coaxed him gently into lying down again and took one of his little hands in hers. “See? You are safe.”
She squeezed his hand gently, and Oliver squeezed hers back. Catherine’s heart felt as though it would burst. “I know that all of this must be terribly frightening, but I promise, I will not let anything happen to you.”
Oliver nodded, and she felt him squeeze her hand again. She smiled at him. “You should try to sleep. If you wake up hungry, there will be biscuits, and I can bring you some food once dinner is over.”
Oliver looked at her and let his eyes flutter shut. Catherine gently stroked his hand with her thumb, watching his eyes open and shut, the length between the opening and the shutting slowly growing longer. Eventually, they remained closed. His breathing was soft and shallow, and Catherine knew he was asleep. She stayed beside him, not wanting to wake him.
“I will sit with him, Your Grace,” Annabelle murmured as she moved to stand beside Catherine.
“But what if he wakes? I do not want him to think I have left him.” Catherine bit her lip. “If he does, will you send for me?”
“If that is what you wish, of course. But I do not think he will.” Annabelle looked at the sleeping boy. “The poor mite is shattered. He reminds me of my brothers. When they slept like this, they would not wake for anything.”
Catherine’s stomach let out a gurgle, and she clutched it with her free hand. Annabelle smiled.
“You need to eat, Your Grace. And I am not sure His Grace will take kindly to being kept waiting.” Annabelle gestured to the door.
“I do not care what he thinks. He can wait all night,” Catherine hissed. “Oliver matters more.”
“Whatever your feelings, Your Grace, you need to look after yourself, and that means you need to eat.” Annabelle squeezed Catherine’s shoulder. “I will look after the boy. You must look after yourself.”
“Very well.” Carefully, Catherine slipped her hand from Oliver’s.
He stirred, making soft squeaks and reaching out as though searching for something. Catherine moved the doll closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around it. He stopped squirming, and a small smile spread across his face.
She swallowed as she felt a lump form in her throat.
What is wrong with me?As she turned to face the door, she thought she could smell amber and cedar, but there was no sign of Alaric. She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping boy.
“He will be all right. I promise.” Annabelle smiled. “And should he need you, I will send someone to find you.”
Reassured, Catherine left the room. Martha had shown them the dining room as she had led them to her chambers, giving them a mini-tour of sorts. But even with that, Catherine managed to get lost several times.
Twice, she turned and found herself in a completely different corridor where she recognized absolutely nothing around her. In the end, she decided to look for paintings of food and follow them, hoping to find her way to the dining room.
