Chapter 24
Rosalie sat in the darkened room by her son’s bed, a bowl of lukewarm water in her lap and a moist flannel in her hand. His face rested in sleep, damp hair curled at his temples and stuck out at angles over his forehead.
Downstairs, Anastasia and Bridie carried on with the tasks that were hers. Florentine was still not back. Honora moved between kitchen and bedroom with bowls of soup, potions, and an aching heart. Rosalie could feel that as if it were her own. She sighed and Drew stirred, tossing his head and frowning against bad dreams. Her boy looked so much like his father and so young. He winced as his bruised temple pressed against the pillow.
‘Shh, now, Drew. You’re home.’
His eyes opened a crack. ‘Mam? I can’t find Will. I thought I saw him, then he was gone …’
‘Will
