Chapter 7: Warrick
The next morning, I stripped down and studied myself in the mirror. There wasn’t a mark on my body, and I walked easily and without a limp.
Well, of course there wasn’t, and of course I did. That damned gypsy stew. It was too heavy a meal for so late in the evening, and who knew what was in it? Squirrel? Cat? I grimaced and shuddered.
The explanation was simple: I’d had indigestion, which had led to that dream.
I put it out of my mind and washed and dressed, packed away the clothes I’d worn the night before, and went down to the breakfast parlour.
The sideboard was laden with all manner of eggs and breakfast meats, and I understood why as I saw who sat on either side of Father—my half-brothers…John and Harry, their plates piled high with eggs, sausages, and thick sl
