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“You can have whatever you want.”
“What I’d really like is a warm bath, but that will have to wait until I get to Blairgal.”
Logan had another of those horrifically inconvenient flashes—Donella, wet, soapy, and naked in a bath. With him.
“How about a bit of bread and cheese?” he said. “You need to eat.”
“I think I’m too tired to eat.”
“Donella—”
“All right, I’ll try.”
“You’ll do more than try.” He started toward the pantry to fetch his pack.
“Yes, Sister Bernard,” she muttered.
“None of your sauce, lass.”
That won him a reluctant chuckle, but it was clear she’d reached the end of her tether. She needed food and sleep but, most importantly, needed to get warm.
She was nodding off when he returned but jerked awake when he set a plate in front of her.
“Just a few of those rolls and some rather nice cheddar I nipped from the inn’s kitchen this morning,” he said apologetically. “Didn’t have time for much else.”
“This is a normal meal for me. Grand banquets tend to be frowned upon in the convent.”
“What, no ortolans in Armagnac or sweetbreads in butter sauce?”
She shuddered. “Are you trying to ruin my appetite?”
He shoved the plate closer. “Eat, lass.”
She ate some cheese and a chunk of bread, washed down with the fortified tea. Logan also bolted down some tea and food, then headed to the door to fetch more water.
“There’s a chamber pot under the bed,” he said.
She sighed. “Why do we spend so much time discussing chamber pots?”
He flashed her a wry smile and went out. When he returned, she was standing in front of the fireplace in her stocking feet, wrapped in their coats but shivering. It was probably from fatigue and reaction as much as the cold, but he wouldn’t take chances.
“Ready for bed?” he asked.
“I could probably fall asleep standing up. I suppose you didn’t find any extra blankets,” she added, eyeing the unadorned mattress.
“Unfortunately, no.”
She mustered a smile. “You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor again. If you would drag the rocker over to the fireplace, and fetch me that blanket I took from the inn, I can sleep quite well sitting up.”
“Lass, if you think I’m sleeping on the bed while you’re in a chair, you’ve lost your mind.”
“I’m sure you’re just as tired as I am. You need your sleep, too.”
“Donella, get on that bloody bed before I pick you up and dump you on it.”
“There’s no call to be rude,” she said with offended dignity.
“Apparently there is.”
