Fire Raven by Patricia McAllister Read Free Book Online

faint, choking sound. Winnie hastened to pull her away and shut the windows.
    “Poor poppet! You’re shivering. Come back to bed.”
    “I’d rather not.” Kate swallowed the rising hysteria the salt-brine smell had unexpectedly brought to her mind and tried to concentrate on other things.
    “If you don’t mind, Winnie, I’d rather get dressed and move about. With your kind help, of course. My legs need some exercise. It seems they aren’t used to lying about.”
    Winnie shrewdly studied Kate as she took the younger woman by the arm to guide her across the room. She nearly made a remark about the girl’s skin — brown like a serf’s — then thought the better of it. It was obvious Kate was a young woman of low birth, though attractive enough. Quite likely she was a dairy maid or a peasant’s daughter, judging by her knowledge of the land and her unaffected airs.
    The only thing still puzzling Winnie was the girl’s speech. Kate spoke no Welsh. Her English was cultured and bordered on insubordination when she spoke to Lord Trelane as an equal. Winnie was amazed he’d let the girl get away with it.
    Mayhap the Master pitied Kate. Aye, Lord Trelane was gentle in nature and with his hands, as Winnie often witnessed when he handled the newborn lambs. Morgan knew animals didn’t fear or pity him. Because Kate couldn’t see him, he apparently felt comfortable with her, too. It could not last, of course. Winnie felt sad and relieved at the same time.
    “Here’s the settle, Katie dear. Now you sit tight while I go find the outfit I pressed this morning.”
    She saw a delighted smile part Kate’s lips. “Why, Winnie. You were prepared.”
    “Aye,” Winnie said with a touch of pride. “’Tis my place to anticipate whatever guests might need or want.” She settled Kate with firm hands onto the cushioned bench.
    “There. Now stay put. I’ll bring another girl, Gwynneth, to fix your hair. We can’t leave it all tumbled down and wild.”
    “Why not?” A male voice said lazily at Kate’s right side. “I rather prefer it thus myself.”
    Winnie saw Kate’s face light up at the Master’s voice. The younger woman was radiant as she turned toward Lord Trelane. Winnie didn’t miss the danger signal and was quick to step between them.
    “Go on with you, now,” she fussed. “This is a lady’s chamber, no place for a man to be. Send Gwynneth up, will you, on your way out. I’ll bring Katie down myself when she’s fit for company.”
    Morgan’s chuckle rolled low and rich throughout the chamber. “I intend inviting our guest downstairs to share my morning repast, Mrs. Carey. And I need a yea or nay, for Cook’s benefit.”
    “Yea!” Kate burst out before Winnie had opportunity to protest. With a triumphant wink at his housekeeper, Morgan turned and left.
    “Goodness,” Winnie murmured breathlessly. “I’ve never seen him look so happy.”
    “Isn’t he usually?” Kate asked. She knew the answer before her caretaker spoke again. There was some hidden, deep sadness within Morgan Trelane, something she sensed rather than saw.
    “Nay. Himself is moody as the Irish Sea sometimes. ’Tis no wonder — ” Sensing she’d overstepped her bounds, Winnie fell silent. The tense silence was broken by the arrival of another party, the maidservant Winnie had summoned to dress Kate’s hair.
    Gwynneth also brought a russet gown and kirtle for their guest. Winnie debated over what Kate might wear. The torn breeches and blouse she was found in were out of the question, as was anything finer than servant’s raiment. Besides, Winnie reassured herself, Kate couldn’t see the outfit. She suffered a pang of conscience anyway when Kate winced as the coarse, scratchy under-tunic was drawn down over her head.
    Compliantly, however, she allowed Winnie to hook the bodice and adjust the whalebone stays about her waist. A stiff, plain wired collar, called a rebato, rose nearly to Kate’s ears. Worsted hose and leather