Page 36 of Forget Me Not

“Can I not simply fetch a book and make good my escape?”

“I’ll fetch you a book,” he offered. “But you could stay and read it here.”

“Dressed like this?”

“Set your arms about my neck. I’ll help you down. Then I have an idea.”

Life had not taught her to trust easily. “You won’t embarrass me further?”

“No, Julia. I won’t.”

She took a breath and did as he’d instructed. His arms slipped beneath her legs and back and lifted her off the ladder. She fully expected him to set her on her feet, but he didn’t.

“I can walk,” she whispered.

“You said you were embarrassed that you don’t have shoes on.” He carried her with ease. “Your feet will stay tucked away like this.”

It was an unexpected bit of thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

He set her on the sofa near the fire. She kept her feet tucked up under her.

“Don’t run off,” he said. Then, to Mr. Barrington, he said, “And, Kes, you keep admiring the back gardens.”

Mr. Barrington nodded without turning in the slightest.

Lucas crossed the room to a small chest and, opening it, pulled out a throw, which he flung over his shoulder. He then moved to the bookshelves and, after a very brief search, pulled out a small volume. He returned to where she sat and spread the blanket over her lap, the edge of it hanging far enough to reach the floor.

He set the book in her hand. “I think you’ll enjoy this.”

She read the title aloud. “A Voyage to St. Kilda?”

“It is an account of the author’s travels to the farthest reaches of the Hebrides and all the things he saw and did there.”

“Oh.” She flipped through the pages. “That does sound interesting.”

“So, you have a book to read. Your feet are covered, as is most of the dress you feel is an embarrassment. Will you stay now?”

Did he actually want her to? That seemed unlikely.

She ran a hand down her messy braid. “My hair isn’t presentable.”

He reached out and touched a loose-hanging tendril. “I had forgotten how wavy your hair is.”

“Not so wavy as yours. And mine, unfortunately, still carries a heavy hint of red.” She had always wished her hair were dark like Charlotte’s had been or golden like Lucas’s was.

“It’s not so red as it used to be,” he said. “It’s darker now.”

“Darker or not, it’s still a mess.”

He sat next to her. “It’s fine. Kes doesn’t care one way or another. I assure you he doesn’t.”

“I really don’t,” Mr. Barrington said from the window.

Julia pulled her blanket more comfortably around herself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than simply traipsing about with her toes peeking out and her dress hanging unflatteringly around her. “You won’t taunt me?”

“I promise we won’t,” Lucas said.

She dropped her gaze to the book in her hands. “This does look interesting.”

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