In the medieval Scottish Highlands, Agnes lives as a noble. But because of a superstition that red headed people are all witches, Agnes suffered throughout her whole life. And the main source of her abuse is her own parents. When she is suddenly mar...
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12
I adored Fiona.
She was the sweetest and most well behaved baby I ever did see. As I held her in my arms in the living area, she slept soundly most of the time. And when she was awake she would simply look up at me and smile. It was only later into the evening that she started to cry. I gently rocked her in my arms, trying to shush her back to sleep. But her crying was consistent, and a throbbing headache began to appear.
Login walked in through the front door, sweat dripping from his brow as he looked at me and Fiona. I instantly turned to him pleadingly. I didn't regret watching over Fiona, but I did regret knowing nothing about children. I had no idea how to stop her from crying.
"How long has she been doing that?" Login asked. I shushed her one more time before I replied to him, "For the last two hours. Nothing I have done helped."
Although he didn't say it, his expression was the 'I told you so' one as he approached us, "She probably wants her mum." He gently placed his hand upon her sweet little face. Her skin was flushed red and warm. He frowned, "She has a fever." I looked down at her sadly. How did she get a fever? The poor thing must have been miserable. "What do I do?" I asked him. He sat beside me on the sofa and removed his boots from his tired feet. "Ask Pricilla. She always had something for me when I had a fever," he replied simply.
I could tell he was upset with me. He hardly looked at me, and when he did he had a very irritated appearance upon his face. He didn't want the responsibility of watching Ruth's baby. And he had warned me. Yet I didn't listen. In truth Fiona was not ours to protect. She had her own parents for that. But I couldn't allow anyone else to handle her. I didn't trust them. I didn't trust anyone.
I stood from my seat and made my way into the kitchen. Pricilla was leaning over the sink, scrubbing the dishes left over from supper. She looked up at me once she heard the baby's cries grow closer, and her expression was one of anguish. "My lady, I do not mean to question your decision, but did you really have to watch that child?" she asked. I looked down at Fiona sadly. They were treating her like a burden... Even Mary hadn't shown herself since the baby started crying. What were they all going to do once I had my own child?
"Please, she needs something for fever," I pleaded with Pricilla. She sighed heavily and tossed her towel over her shoulder, giving me an annoyed look before she turned away to her spices and herbs. "I'm too old for this," she muttered, as if I couldn't hear her. I chose to ignore it. Then she returned with a small vile of some strange liquid. "Dab a little of this on the tip of her nose, at her temples and under her chin. She will be better by morning," she instructed. I gave a small smile as I took the vile, "Thank you." Without another word she went back to work.
When I returned to the living area Login was gone. Off to bathe I was sure. I sat down on the sofa and opened the vile, doing just as Pricilla had told me. Then I held her up against me, genlty shaking her as I prayed for her crying to end.
