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Page 138
sapped her of her remaining strength, for she blanched and sagged, her face nearly as pale as her hair. Her eyelids fluttered and closed.
"Take it easy, Holly," Mariah said in alarm. Before she could reach the injured woman, René was straightening her.
Holly's eyes opened just a little, and a faint smile played at the corners of her ashen lips. "Thanks, Frenchy," she murmured. She nestled back, her breathing becoming even as she slept once more.
"Bah!" René scowled and backed away. "Foolish Anglaise. She needs her rest, but she is arguing like she's hale as a French farmwoman. I have work to do; I cannot be bothered with her." But Mariah noted with interest that he stopped and looked at Holly one final time before he scuttled out the door.
He returned to spell Mariah awhile later, carrying a small wooden bowl that contained broth and a pewter spoon. "We had the smoked turkey," he explained. "I boiled it for this consommé."
Mariah took a sip. Its smoky, salty flavor was wonderful. "Delicious!" she pronounced. "I'll feed it to her while you"
He waved his free hand. "Ah, no, Mariah. You have tended this foolish woman enough. And Thorn, he wishes you to serve supper. There are guests this evening, and I have prepared for cooking the squirrels he brought from today's hunting."
Thank heavens, Mariah thought. She couldn't slice and gut a poor, dead squirrel any more easily than a bunny rabbit. And how could Thorn kill squirrels, when he kept one as a pet?
René put the soup bowl down on the table and sat on the edge of the bed. He gently shook Holly, who stirred. Her moan sounded irritable rather than pained. "Time to eat, Anglaise." René seemed to take pleasure in disturbing her. "If you do not, you will have no energy to torment the French any longer."
Holly's eyes opened, and she glared at the Frenchman. "Bring me some food, then," she whispered.

 
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