Paisley flashed him a smile. "From England."
Emma snorted, and Thomas rolled his eyes.
"Aye, we know that. But there's something ye arenae telling us, lassie. I know me English accents, and that's a fine one ye have there. Ye dinnae grow up around washerwomen and farmers, that's for sure."
"She's got fine hands, too," Emma chimed in. "I noticed that when I was bandaging them. Very fine indeed."
"Ooh, intriguing. So come on, Paisley, solve this mystery for us," Thomas leaned forward further still, his eyes intent. "Tell us where ye came from."
Panic started to claw her way up Paisley's throat. She was not a good liar. It had never been required of her. At home, honesty was prized above all things. No matter how naughty they'd been, they would still tell their mama and papa the truth.
She'd been able to hide her background so effectively because people had simply never asked. Even Ava, who Paisley considered her closest friend, seemed disinterested in the past in comparison to the pressing issues of the present and future.
"What are ye doing, Thomas?" Dominic snapped, materializing out of the crowd. "Stop bothering her. She's working."
"I was just asking..."
"Nay, ye were nae. Go on, both of ye. Go find somewhere to sit and stop bothering the lass."
Thomas held Dominic's steely gray gaze for a moment, then sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Fine. Ye are nae fun, ye know that?" he mumbled, taking Emma's hand.
"Aye, I know," Dominic responded tartly.
Thomas paused, catching Paisley's eye and winking. "Welcome to the family, lassie."
Dominic narrowed his eyes, folding his arms across his brawny chest, and watched them disappear into the crowd. He glanced back at Paisley and raised his eyebrows.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't be chatting. I should be working."
"Sure, it's nae yer fault. Thomas is chatty, and he's nosy to boot."
That last comment seemed pointed, but by the time Paisley raised her eyes to meet his, the sympathetic expression was gone.
"Right," he said, their moment of understanding over. "I need six tankards of ale, a pint of..."
"If ye wait a moment, I'll walk ye home," Dominic said shortly, turning to securely lock the pub's doors behind him.
Despite saying that she could finish at midnight and he would stay longer, Dominic had herded all of the patrons out of the pub at midnight on the dot. Paisley couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done it so that he could walk her home, but quickly reproved herself. Jumping to conclusions like that was a bad idea.
She glanced around at the forest nearby, pitch black and ominous, and shivered.
"Thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't much like the dark."
Dominic glanced over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sorry to tell ye this, but there's a lot of darkness in the countryside."
"Thereis?" Paisley said, feigning shock. "I'm so glad you were here to explain that to me. Tell me, can you explain what that big round thing up in the sky could be? I'm at a loss." She pointed up at the moon, cackling at her own joke.
Dominic rolled his eyes. "Ye and Thomas are two of a kind. He liked ye, by the way. Not in a flirty way, don't worry. He's nae so much as glanced at another woman since he met Emma."
"I liked him too," Paisley said, tipping back her head to look up at the stars. "I liked Emma, too. I've never met a healer like her back home."
"I hear that women healers arenae permitted in England," Dominic remarked, leading the way towards the dark forest path, a lit lantern in his hand, lighting up their way.
Paisley hurried to catch up with him. "There are some. Midwives and such."
"Aye, we have midwives here as well as healers."
