Faithfully Yours
“Faith said, putting another tankard on the tray, “please take this mulled cider out to the soldiers in the barn.”
“That is kind of you,” replied a voice that was much deeper than her brother’s.
She forced a smile for Sebastian, hoping he had not noticed how her fingers trembled as she set the pitcher back on the kitchen table. “The night is cold, and I thought they would enjoy something warm to drink before they slept.” She shuddered at her own words.
“Is something amiss?” Sebastian asked as Ezekial opened the door and carried the tray out to the barn.
“No, everything is just as it should be.” She wondered if she had ever spoken such a heinous lie. On the morrow, she would be meeting Tom Rooke to give him more supplies, so she had put the powder he had given her into the cider, which would make Sebastian’s men sleep long past midday.
“You look unsettled. Are you shivering?”
“It is cold.” She closed the door that her brother had left ajar.
He drew her into his arms and up against his chest.
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