Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] by Border Moonlight Page B

how his reluctant guest was enjoying her confinement.
    As he thought about her, it occurred to him that at her first near-wedding, to the aged Lord Galston, Sibylla had not been much older than his little sister was now. She had been barely a year older than that when he had expected her to marry him.
    “My dearest, whatever are you doing, staring at the wall like that?”
    Startled, Simon turned to find his mother with her thinly plucked eyebrows arched even higher than usual. “Forgive me, madam,” he said. “I was woolgathering. But I have sent your messenger on his way to Dour Hill.”
    “I have something to say to you.”
    Stifling a sigh, he set himself to listen patiently to whatever it might be.
    Sibylla had broken her fast in her bedchamber, sharing with Kit the fresh-baked rolls and beef that Tetsy brought them. Noting how carefully the child tried to imitate the way she broke her bread, Sibylla hid a smile.
    Tetsy, straightening the bed, looked over her shoulder to say, “I’ll take the lassie to the kitchen with me when I go, m’lady. And I’ll keep her with me tonight. Will ye be wanting to get back into bed after I’ve made it?”
    “Nay, I will not,” Sibylla said. “And I want more suitable garments to wear than this robe.”
    “Och, aye, and I’m a fool for no telling ye afore now! Her ladyship did say she’ll be sending some things along as soon as she attends to some other matters.”
    “I’ll be very grateful to her,” Sibylla said, wondering how far down Lady Murray’s list the clothing would be.
    She did not wonder long, because shortly after Tetsy had taken the protesting Kit to the kitchens, the door opened with no more ceremony than a rap to reveal a grinning, dark-haired girl. She looked so much like Amalie that even had Sibylla not met the lady Rosalie before, she’d have known her at once.
    As they exchanged greetings, Rosalie said, “I’ve brought you some clothes.”
    “Bless you, shut that door then and help me dress,” Sibylla said eagerly. “If I have to wait until Tetsy finishes her other chores, I’ll go mad.”
    “Will you, in troth?” Rosalie said, her dark hazel eyes sparkling.
    “I am sometimes prone to exaggerate,” Sibylla admitted. “But your odious brother has kept me shut up here with naught to wear since I arrived. I yearn for fresh air and a brisk walk.”
    “Simon said you had hurt yourself, and you have a dreadful lump on your head. Does it not still ache?”
    “Aye, if I heed it. But I am stout enough to get up, and although he insists I should stay in bed, I have also been aching for sensible conversation. So tell me about yourself and about Elishaw. Sithee, I came here once before, but it was whilst you were at Scott’s Hall awaiting the birth of Meg’s wee daughter.”
    “I remember, aye,” Rosalie said as she laid a gray silk kirtle and another the blue-green color of a forest pond on the bed.
    “I like those colors,” Sibylla said.
    “My lady mother said they would suit you.”
    “Do you mind helping me dress?”
    “Not if you want to talk,” Rosalie said. “I almost never have anyone but my lady mother to talk to. Oh, servants, of course. But she does not approve of my talking much with them.”
    “Does she not? Faith, I learn more from servants than from anyone else,” Sibylla said. “They always know what is going on.”
    Rosalie giggled. “ ’Tis true, and I own, I do converse often with many of them. We ought not to gossip, of course.”
    “Pish tush,” Sibylla said, doffing the borrowed robe and reaching for the lacy shift Rosalie held out. “Without gossip, Rosalie, the world would be a tedious place, especially for women. So, tell me about Elishaw and its people. Tetsy has told me a little, and your mother, too. But I think she does not like my being here.”
    “I doubt she dislikes you,” Rosalie said, handing her the blue-green kirtle. “She is just determined that Simon shall marry an