Page 23 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
Ava nodded again, giving her a grateful smile. She looked around her room one more time. This was where she was going to be staying for the next month, and it did not look bad. Not in the slightest.
“I am ready,” she declared.
Flora nodded once and gestured towards the door. “Then let’s go meet Margaret.”
* * *
Margaret’s room was just as wide as Ava’s if not a bit wider. It seemed to stretch out even further than Ava’s did, and yet the little girl was huddled on the floor next to the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, just as she had done in the kitchen the previous day.
“Hey… Margie,” Ava called, hurrying to her side, while Flora watched in utter silence.
“Is everythin’ all right?” Flora asked from the doorway, a rather confused expression on her face.
“Yes,” Ava responded. “It is just one of those things.”
“Aye, the child has a lot of things wrong with her, has she nae?” Flora asked.
Ava’s ears burned at that question, but she knew that Flora was only asking from a place of genuine concern.
“She should be better soon,” she reassured.
“If ye say so,” Flora muttered.
As she turned to leave, Ava called after her, “If we can get some bannocks, that will be greatly appreciated.”
“Bannocks?” Flora asked. “Tell her there’s fish and meat whenever she is ready to dine.”
Ava smiled. “I understand, but right now, she will prefer bannocks.”
Flora nodded. She didn’t understand this, not a single part, but she retreated anyway. “I shall fetch some for her.”
Ava threw her a grateful look, and Flora finally disappeared from view.
“So, what do we always do when this happens? We count, right?” Ava asked, helping the girl onto the bed.
Margaret nodded.
Ava hurried back to her room to grab some parchment and a quill. She returned and handed it to Margaret, who began to write the numbers she had taught her.
Then, she walked to the other side of the bed and sat down, watching the little girl continue to write.
She had mentioned to Brodrick that it would take her at least a month to figure out why Margaret had spoken for the first time in the kitchen the other day. Now, as she watched the girl scribble across the parchment, a sinking feeling gnawed at her, as if letting her know that it was going to take more than a month.
She didn’t want to stay here longer than necessary. She needed to go back to the orphanage. She had work to do and children to take care of.
For now, though, Margaret was distracted by her work, and she would keep a very close eye on her. Perhaps after dinner tonight, when she had properly settled in, she would write a letter to Sarah and Elizabeth and let them know she had arrived safely.
Flora returned just a few minutes later, a bowl of bread mixed with honey in her hands.
“This was all I could find, for now. But I have put some maids to the task. They are makin’ more.”
She handed the bowl to Margaret, whose hands were busy with the quill and parchment. Margaret looked up, a confused and dazed expression on her face. She refused to take the bowl.
“’Tis for ye, child,” Flora added, as if her words would instantly make Margaret take the bowl. They didn’t.
“Why don’t you allow me…” Ava offered. She took the bowl from Flora and handed it to Margaret, who took it almost immediately. “Thank you,” she said.
She thought of coming up with something, some reasonable excuse as to why Margaret was still the way she was, but then she decided against it. They had seen enough, and in the few coming days, they would see quite a few more.
