Connor’s Keep had extensive and beautifully maintained kitchen gardens. Willow wandered around the neat and almost militantly arranged beds, inspecting plants and clipping herbs here and there, while Justine followed her around fretting. “The air isn’t good for the baby!”
Willow spared the younger woman an impatient glance. “The weather is fine today, the fresh air will do us all good.”
“She’ll catch a fever!” Justine whined.
Willow used her fingernails to pick sprigs of basil. “I need a basket to hold these herbs.”
“You hadn’t ought to be picking those plants!”
Willow rolled her eyes and picked a blossom off a plant to sniff it. “Why not?”
“People will talk!”
“People always talk,” Willow said with a shrug. “I’m an herbalist, plants are my business. Will you burn the s
