There was a light tap on the door. Felicia composed herself and then beckoned the visitor to enter.
The door opened to reveal Alistair Hanson, “You called, my lady?”
“I did, Alistair. Come and sit down.”
Hanson knew better than to refuse and so he took a seat beside her.
“Have some bread, my dear old friend,” she bid.
“Are you not hungry, madam?”
“I was, but now I’ve changed my mind.”
Hanson took a tentative bite of the bread, swallowing it quickly before speaking, “Is there something, in particular, you wanted to talk to me about, madam?”
“Yes, Alistair. Our young ward is having nightmares.”
“Can you blame her?”
“No, but we must divert her attention, occupy her mind. I was thinking that I might start reading to her. You know her better than I, do you think she would like that?”
