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‘I had a little rag doll myself, Mistress Elin. My constant companion and holder of all my secrets. Still have her, in fact,’ she chuckled. ‘My Gran tucked her away in my satchel when I went away from the family burrow. With a little note that Buttercup – that’s what I called my dolly – had a lot of hugs from her for me just waiting for when I needed them.’
‘Looks like Annie is all settled in,’ she went on, nodding toward the table the little girl had chosen. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and join her. I’ll see to your room. And Penny here can fetch your tea and the honey milk and toast fingers for Sildur and his girl.’
Rowan sent Penny to fetch the drinks, with a whispered instruction to bring a plate of hot, buttered toast and a pot of strawberry jam. ‘Momma is too thin to my way of thinking!’
She hurried off to air out the room and fluff up the feathered pillows. The patchwork quilts were nice and thick, but just in case they got cold at night, she put two dark blue woolen blankets on the chest at the foot of the bigger bed. Fluffy towels and wash cloths were piled neatly on the wash stand next to the basin and pitcher. As a last touch, she fetched a small vase and filled it with some pretty autumn leaves and a few stalks of fragrant herbs.
Rowan stepped back toward the door. There, that looks good! she thought to herself as she surveyed the room. She hurried back to the kitchen to give a hand with the lunch meal.
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