’Twas all mightily confusing. He dinnae ken how to sort out such things. Would he continue to pass through this life, stuck in the clutches of the last?
It shouldna matter. He’d no’ be here long enough to interfere with any of their plans, anyway. Why then, couldnae he stop feeling…protectiveof Lauren? Aye, that was it. He merely felt the need to be sure she was truly safe.
Julia glanced up at him as she sliced fruit into a bowl. “I’m sorry, we didn’t see that you had any luggage or—”
“Nae, lass. None.” He shrugged, looking down at his plaid. “ ’Twas naught tae bring wi’ me, but this.”
“Oh. Of course.” Clearly disconcerted, Julia carried two plates to a small table near a window. “Why don’t you both sit here. The view is lovely.”
“Okay, as soon as…” Lauren looked expectedly around the room.
Phoebe pointed to a door beyond a set of stairs. “The washroom is just through there.”
“Thanks,” Lauren’s relief was evident. She released Reginald’s hand and rubbed hers together. “Soap and hot running water sound heavenly.”
When she left him, Reginald felt strangely adrift. He curled his fingers to hold onto her fading warmth a few seconds longer.
“Please, Mr. McColl,” Phoebe drew his attention. “Make yourself at home.”
“Och!” He admonished with a warning tone followed by a slow smile. “Fair play, if ye will,Phoebe. ’Tis Reginald, if ye please.”
Her soft chuckle warmed the room as she tipped her head in acknowledgement. “Reginald, then. Please, make yourself at home.”
He scanned the room, unsure of the expected behavior. “Thank ye, but I’ll just wait for La—”
“Your turn,” Lauren announced, rubbing something onto her hands as she exited the room.
“Oh. Aye, then. I’ll just be a moment.”
Once inside, he closed the door on the small room, released a stifled breath and fought back the closed-in sensation he’d had in the car.Be quick, he told himself.
Using the knobs at the sink, he turned on the hot water and adjusted the temperature as he’d learned to do, at Wickham’s. Still no’ used to such ease, he groaned his pleasure at the luxury, thinking how his mother’s life would have been eased by such wonders as this. All those tedious trips to the stream. The heavy buckets of water. The necessary fires, even in the summer.
With a wistful sigh, Reginald wished he could share this extravagance with her. Mayhap, someday, after this new life was done, he would tell her about it. And that he came back home, as he’d promised, even if ’twas centuries too late.
Chapter Eight
“More strawberries? Grapes?” Lauren held up the bowl of fresh fruit.
Reginald swallowed the bite of muffin he’d been chewing. Lauren called thempoppy-seed,but all he kenned was the amazing flavor. And the strawberries? Och!
“Aye,” he grinned sheepishly, taking the bowl. “Though I ken I’ve already eaten my weight in ’em.”
“Everything tastes so good,” Lauren sighed, laying down her fork. “But, I’m stuffed.Finally,” she laughed.
Reginald took another scoop of fruit, enjoying the sound of her laughter. The edge of worry and guilt he’d heard in her voice last night, was gone. Now, she sounded like pure joy, and he couldnae get enough of listening to her.
Finally, after polishing off the extra fruit, he pushed his plate away. He’d indulged far beyond what could be considered polite.
“Thank ye,” he said to both Phoebe and Julia, who were still busy at the kitchen worktable. “I dinnae ken when I’ve enjoyed something so much.”
He followed Lauren’s lead and took his plate to the sink.
“Words a cook loves to hear,” Phoebe smiled. “And now, I’m sure you’re both anxious to get cleaned up. Julia, if you’ll show Lauren which room is hers, I’ll take Reginald, to his.”
“Of course.” Julia linked arms with Lauren, and heads together, they chatted their way toward an adjacent hallway.
“Lauren?” Phoebe called, stopping them both. “I’ll be in after your shower to take a good look at that ankle. I know you said it’s fine, but…well, indulge an old worrywart?”
