“Is the other one awake yet? I’m sorry, I doona know his name.”
Adwen laughed and a small snort escaped him, bringing a flush of red to his cheeks in embarrassment. “Orick. And only one of two things will wake him—either the smell of food or the need to relieve himself. We shall have to wait to see which one.”
Isobel laughed, motioning to a seat inside the small room.
“Is that no true of most men? If I dinna cough so, I imagine Gregor would be the same.”
He took the seat as she bid, satisfied that the horses would hold for a few more moments. “Aye, ’tis true enough.”
His stomach growled loudly, bringing Isobel to her feet as she smiled and winked at him, jerking her head in the direction of the kitchen.
“And so it was yer stomach that awakened ye this morning, aye? Come with me. I’ll fix ye something to eat.”
Adwen followed her willingly into the kitchen. Since the moment he’d smelled Jane’s stew, his stomach had been churning in hunger.
The short trip from the sitting room to the kitchen was enough to exhaust Isobel. Although he knew she tried to hide it, he didn’t miss how she gripped the end of the table to keep herself steady and how she spoke slowly in an effort to keep from coughing as she tried to catch her breath.
“I doona wish for ye to prepare food for me, Isobel. Rather, ye shall sit and rest while I do the cooking.”
She waved a hand at him, managing a quiet laugh. “O’course I willna allow ye to do that. Do ye even know how to cook?”
Adwen smiled, moving around the table so that he could gently guide her to a seat, ignoring her objections all the way.
“Aye, I do. I had a verra good teacher.”
“Aye? Who?”
“My mother.”
Isobel smiled and took to resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Adwen took it as a sign of resignation and went about roaming the kitchen, taking in the stocks of food to see the items that he had to work with.
“’Tis no proper for me to allow ye to do this, Adwen—or would ye prefer me to call ye Laird MacChristy? I should have addressed ye so to begin with.”
“Ach, please never refer to me as laird. I doona care for the title now, nor will I when I take my position. And I doona care if ye think it proper. ’Tis evident that ye are no well enough to even stand, lass. Ye should still be in yer bed, no down in the kitchen. I can tell by looking at ye that ye’ve no much time left.”
She looked shocked by his words and Adwen momentarily regretted his honesty, only relaxing once Isobel spoke.
“Thank ye.”
“For what, lass? My words werena kind, and they were hardly worth any thanks.”
“For no behaving as if I am unaware of how sick I am. I know well enough that what ye say is true. I grow tired of all those around me pretending that they doona know it as well.”
Adwen nodded, turning to gather up a handful of fresh eggs, already gathered so they’d be ready for breakfast. His mother had been the exact opposite of Isobel during her own sickness. While all those around her could see plainly just how ill she truly was, she denied it to the end—not ever accepting that she’d reached the end of her life. Even as she lay on her deathbed, she swore she would get better. Every denial, every bit of hope that his mother clung to had broken his heart completely.
“Ye are strong, Isobel. Stronger than most who fight such an illness—I can see that by looking at ye. I doona see any need to lie to ye nor no speak of it, no when I can hear how sick ye are every time ye cough.”
Isobel stood, moving slowly to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder as he worked at whisking the eggs together.
“Aye, ’tis true enough. I couldna hide my sickness even if I tried. What are ye doing to the eggs, Adwen? Do ye no boil them?”
Adwen laughed and pointed gently back to the seat from which Isobel had come. “Just go sit back down and doona worry about the eggs. ’Tis something I learned during my travels. I know that most in these parts boil their eggs but, trust me, ye will find this to yer liking.”
“Aye, fine. Ye have intrigued me. If ye like, there is some dried herring in the back that ye may do what ye will with, but ye may wish to make eggs for four; Gregor has already eaten, but Jane shall be along shortly and, if what ye say is true, then yer man shall awaken soon as well.”
Adwen couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Jane’s name. In truth, he’d hoped she would come along before he and Orick left—even if it would only result in her further aggravation. He very much enjoyed the way she looked when angry.
Isobel laughed, and he realized then that she’d not missed his ill-timed grin.