Ihadn’t expected to sleep till morning. I’d hoped to get a few hours’ rest and then slip out with Penny in the night to avoid having to answer questions about how the two of us found ourselves in Wendwood. I hadn’t counted on my lack of sleep catching up to me and dragging me into a dreamlessly deep slumber for half a day and a whole night.
Penny needed the sleep as much as I did, so it was for the best. We’d both fare better on the walk home if we were well-rested. That didn't lessen my worry that the people of Wendwood might have called on the militia while we slept, and that they could be poised to question or arrest us the second we set foot outside.
Concerns rattled through my head as I lingered under the comfortable weight of the blankets with my face pressed into the nape of Penny’s neck. I breathed deep, savoring the scent of him until shuffling behind me startled me out of a renewed doze.
Elise offered a sheepish smile when my head whipped around. A fledgling flame nestled in the heart of a stack of logs in the fireplace, and she held up a handful of tinder she’d been feeding into it.
“Just getting the fire going. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was already awake,” I said, freeing a hand from around Penny’s chest to rub the film of sleep from my eyes. “We need to be getting on the road, anyway.”
“Not before breakfast,” Elise chided as she tucked the last of the tinder into the growing fire. “Margot’s cooking eggs and porridge. Should be about ready if you want to get your husband up and going.”
It gave me no less of a thrill to hear her refer to Penny that way as it had given me to do so myself. I’d said it on a whim, figuring it would be easier to explain our traveling together without unnecessary questions. Now, I found myself wishing it were true.
I nodded through a yawn. “Thank you.”
Once she’d returned to the kitchen and we had whatever privacy we were going to get, I ran my fingers through Penny’s hair and kissed his temple.
“Time to get up, sweetheart. Breakfast soon, and then we need to be on our way.”
He mumbled something and rolled to tuck himself against me and bury his face in my chest. He slung one arm around my waist and grabbed a wad of my shirt before hissing in pain and pulling back.
I caught his hand and brought it up to kiss the heel of his palm, clear of the bandaged wounds. “Got to be careful with these for a while,” I said against his skin.
“Forgot,” Penny groused.
“Luckily, they’re not too deep. Should heal quickly if you don’t reopen them.”
He drew breath to speak but sparked a fit of hacking coughs instead.
Across the room, Margot stepped away from the stove and started toward us. I appreciated her concern, but I knew Penny would be embarrassed, so I waved her away before she got close.
“Breathe, Pen.” I smoothed a hand up and down his arm, giving him something to focus on besides the tightness in his lungs.
It was several moments before he quieted, panting quick and shallow as he sagged against me.
“Slow breaths, sweetheart. You’re all right.” I cradled him to me, trying not to think about the events of the day before, how much worse they made his condition, and how close I’d come to losing him again. Somehow, we’d been lucky despite everything. I dreaded the day that luck ran out.
He eventually settled but didn’t pull away. I was content to keep him close for as long as possible, so I let my eyes slide closed against the concerned glances our hosts were sharing in the kitchen and dropped my head against Penny’s. We stayed that way until Margot’s voice stirred me from dozing again.
“Breakfast is ready, if you’d like to come sit.”
I blinked against the returning fog of sleep and nodded. Penny leaned away to give me room to stand, and I pulled him up with me, careful to keep my grip far enough down his wrists to avoid the bandages on his hands.
“Thank you again,” I said as I guided Penny to a seat at the table. Elise was already settled on one side, so we took the chairs across from her.
“You are most welcome,” Margot said.
We barely sat down before she placed a heaping plate of eggs and steaming bowl of porridge in front of each of us.
“Don’t fuss,” she said as I turned to protest the size of the portions. “You’ve got a long walk ahead of you, and you’re not leaving until you both fill up.” She turned her scrutiny on Pennybefore moving back into the kitchen. “Especially you. You barely touched your food yesterday. Need some meat on those bones.”
It was hard to imagine Penny as anything other than lean and sinewy, what with farmwork keeping him busy throughout the year. But with the lingering effects of the hemlock often leaving him feeling too tired or sick to eat on cold, damp days, he’d gotten thin.
I worried about him constantly. It was all I could do to keep my concerns to myself and not smother him with them. But I hoped once the weather turned warm again, he wouldn’t struggle as much. His return to baking with Rosie and the renewed flow of pastries and sweet treats through our kitchen was bound to help fill him out, too.
Margot returned with a steaming mug of tea and a small ceramic crock. She set both beside Penny’s plate and pressed a second spoon into his hand. “Plenty of honey. It’ll help your cough.”
