When she’d made her way through half of what she’d been served, Lucas cleared his throat and asked in a low, private voice, “Would ye accompany me to the village after our meal?”
Flora froze, turning to look at him slowly. It seemed as though her time here was even more brief than she’d initially anticipated. As she nodded, she reminded herself that being left in the village was still a better fate than living with her father or being hunted by savage men. This could be a chance to build a life of her own, even if she’d be completely by herself.
“Excellent,” he said as he stood, pushing his plate away and surveying the dining tables. “Meet me at the stables. Annabeth will show ye the way.”
Nearly an hour after Lucas had left the great hall, Flora approached him at the stables. She seemed to be drawing in on herself, an action that he could only assume was due to the fact that she was to be alone with him. Annabeth was a ways away, waving at him with an apologetic smile on her face. He lifted his own hand in greeting before turning his attention back to Flora.
“Did ye have enough to eat?” Lucas asked, scanning her face. When she nodded, his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Now, can ye ride?”
A soft, pink blush colored Flora’s cheeks as she tucked her chin and shook her head. A strand of dark hair fell in front of her face, and Lucas felt an overwhelming urge to reach forward and tuck it away. He’d never considered himself to be a particularly gentle man, yet this woman seemed to unlock a side of himself that he hadn’t known was there, something that was intrinsically wrapped up in the role of protector.
“That’s all right,” he grunted, clearing his throat as he gestured at his horse. “Ye’ll ride with me, and I’ll teach ye to ride later. Ye might find ye like it. There’s a sense of freedom that’s unlike anythin’ else.”
A flash of confusion fell over her features. Lucas nearly asked what was bothering her, but he stopped himself. Annabeth had said that Flora seemed frustrated at her inability to speak. He’d stick to yes or no questions for now, regardless of how badly he wanted to know what was going on in her mind. If Matthew’s theory was correct, the last thing he needed to do was make things harder on her as she healed.
So, accepting her silence, he offered her his hand and helped her into the saddle. Then, he climbed up behind her. Being this close felt right, especially since she seemed more relaxed today than she had the day before.
Lucas went slower than he normally would on their journey, aware of the way her body shifted against his with each step that the stallion took. He chastised himself for just how much he was enjoying the closeness, wondering if he was nearly as bad as the men who’d abducted her. Flora had been through enough; she didn’t need him thinking about the way her backside felt against his crotch, nor the way heat seemed to radiate from her body directly into his chest.
When they finally arrived at the village nearly an hour later, Lucas cantered directly to the seamstress. Once there, he helped Flora to her feet and fastened the horse’s reins to a post. After giving the creature a pat on his strong neck, earning a snortin response, he turned to her, noting the way her eyes darted around, seemingly memorizing the area or plotting a path for escape.
“Cecilia is a skilled seamstress,” Lucas said, looking down at Flora as he explained what would happen. He waited until she met his gaze before continuing, “I’m goin’ to have her make ye some gowns and get ye a few pairs of shoes. And ye can have whatever accessories ye wish. Daenae worry about the cost or what ye have to do in return. This is a gift. I’m just getin’ ye what ye need.”
Flora shook her head, her eyes wide. She took a step back as she opened and closed her mouth, clearly trying to protest but unable to find the words. It was almost as if she didn’t think she deserved to have this kind of care. It frustrated him that anyone would feel as if they hadn’t earned basic necessities.
“I ken,” he said, keeping his voice steady even though every fiber of his being was demanding that he be firm. “Ye’re nae used to bein’ taken care of. I just want to make sure ye have clothin’. Ye daenae have to get anythin’ extravagant, but ye’ll feel better if ye’re wearin’ clothes of yer own.”
It looked as though Flora was still trying to find a way to protest again. Her fingers flexed at her sides, and she shifted from foot to foot. Eventually, her shoulders slumped. Either she realized that Lucas wasn’t going to budge on his position, or she decided that she was simply too tired to mime her arguments.
“Good,” he said, though he didn’t feel any pride at seeing the defeated look on her face. Then, with a final nod, he led her through the door.
As soon as they stepped inside, Cecilia looked away from the swatches of fabric in front of her. Her red hair fell in front of her eyes, but it did nothing to hide her excitement. She brightened at the sight of Lucas, then her eyes found Flora. A mischievous, knowing smile spread across her face.
“I wasnae expectin’ ye, Me Laird,” she said as she stepped out from behind her workspace, “nor was I expectin’ ye to bring such a wee bonnie thing with ye. What’s yer name, me dear?”
“This is Flora,” Lucas said before she attempted to speak for herself. The last thing he needed was for this visit to cause any more stress than it already had. He had to trust that Cecilia would not ask Flora too many questions that she wouldn’t be able to answer. “She’s stayin’ at the castle with me, and she needs a wardrobe. Gowns, undergarments, shoes, accessories.”
The seamstress’s expression softened slightly. There wasn’t any doubt that the villagers hadn’t heard about the women who had been brought to the castle the day before. Word travelled fast everywhere, it seemed. Thankfully, Cecilia was sharp, and her understanding was a palpable thing.
“Well, Flora,” Cecilia said, shifting her attention to the woman, her voice warm and welcoming, “I’m glad to meet ye. And ye’re in the right place. Let’s get ye dressed.”
Even though Flora still wore her hesitations clearly on her face, she allowed Cecilia to guide her away from Lucas. Then, as the seamstress began to work, she followed along with her instructions. Eventually, she even participated, running her fingers over different types of fabrics and deciding which she liked best by pointing and smiling.
Lucas stayed out of the way as much as someone of his size could. He watched from a corner as Flora slowly began to enjoy the visit. Though he could tell that she still wasn’t sure whether or not she could accept the kindness he was extending her, she did seem to trust Cecilia. And Cecilia seemed to know exactly what it took to make the girl giddy with excitement over new clothing.
Ach, the woman’s damn good at her job.
For the first time since he’d met Flora, he saw her wearing a genuine smile. It struck him then just how beautiful she was. He’d known, of course, he’d known, but her face lit up in a way that made her seem almost ethereal when she smiled. Her brows rose, her dark eyes seemed to sparkle. The apples of her cheeks would eventually become round with delight once her body got used to being fed properly again.
Ach, I bet she has nay idea just how bonnie she is.
After getting Flora’s measurements and deciding on the fabrics, Cecilia disappeared into the back of the shop. When she returned, she carried with her a pair of shoes and a dress thatshe must have had stashed away. She held them out to Flora with an air of authority.
“These arenae made for yer exact measurements, but they’ll fit ye,” Cecilia said, pushing the items into Flora’s arms, even when she tried to shake her head. “Nay, ye’ll take them. It will take me some time to get everythin’ ready for ye. Ye still need somethin’ to wear while ye wait. I’m sure ye’ll get tired of wearin’ the exact same thing every day. And what would ye do if ye spilled somethin’ on the gown ye’re wearin’ now?”
Finally, with a shy smile, Flora took the clothes. Then, she looked over at Lucas as though she were just remembering that he was there as well. The corner of her mouth ticked upward as she dropped her head slightly, the bridge of her nose turning pink. He heard the gratitude louder than he would have if she spoke it.
I’m goin’ to do right by her. Surely someone must be missin’ her. I’ll do me best to find them and get her back to her life before the hunt.
