The storeroom had seemed like a good idea at the time.
After all, it was the best place to hide away from her family and their newly ensnared guest and still be close to Cook and his helpers. There were sacks of grain stacked around the perimeter, the air was tinged with the scents of peppercorns and cloves locked in the spice box. Overhead there were bundles of herbs dried from last summer—meadowsweet and tansy, dill and chervil—each and every one lending their perfume to the crowded room.
For that was the problem—’twas crowded. ’Twas impossible to share the space with a man of Burke’s height and breadth without touching him in some way.
But there was naught for it. Burke was settling onto a sack of grain and Alys would not protest the intimacy of the place she had chosen. She sat as f
