SURPRISE MADALUVERS!
Hey guys! I just managed to crawl out of Hell's mouth carrying my charred body with me with a brand new chapter in my hands (surprisingly it didn't catch fire one the way out O.O) and I will be returning back into it shortly... Oh God help me T.T. But yes, another chapter to start the month, yaaaaaaaay! XD
The reason why I am giving you another chapter so quickly after Chapter 9 is because I will be busy for the month of May and June (and mayyyybe into July we will see) T.T It's no joke . And the second reason is because chapter 9 and 10 was technically ONE HUMONGOUS CHAPTER before I decided to chop it down for reasons that you will see once you read chapter 10. So, if you were wondering why chapter 9 had a somewhat abrupt ending, well, that's why . Sorry about that, it won't happen again .
Once again thank you all for your continuous support, it means a lot to me, seriously, it does :D Keep doing what you do.
Have a wonderful Month of May! I will see you in the next update!
(Don't worry, I will be working on this story regardless :P Can't stop...It' . . . . But yea, once things are calmer I will be back :P)
Now back into the fiery pits I go, byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~
CHAPTER TEN
~ Best Christmas Eve party EVER! ~
The dining area was prepared and set with elaborate plates, utensils and a several decorative candle holders. Meryl helped as much as she could, but became confused by the amount of utensils needed, a fork, a spoon and a knife was just enough for her, but apparently more was needed. It made her nervous. No, actually, the whole idea of her sitting within close proximity of Achilles and mister moody-broody made her uneasy. She would prefer to chill with the domestics, they were a load of fun. However, Ingrid had gone back to her family who were within the Homestead community while Marie and Hanna remained.
All hot dishes were placed on the table, turning the dining table into a beautiful and delicious display did Marie and Hanna quickly change out of their work clothes which was the simple removal of their aprons and tied up hair. They brushed their hair, down and tied them in an elaborate and beautiful fashion that highlighted their facial features.
And there was Meryl, looking like bum.
Marie had preemptively dragged Meryl into her room, forced her into a corset that made her boobs almost explode out of the top her plain dark thick cotton dress. The dress hugged her form nicely, giving her feminine shape that she thought she never had. The dress' collar dropped down in an half-oval with a little coquettish flair. Some frills decorated along the edges at the collar and end of the sleeves. Hanna tied Meryl's hair up, as Meryl had probably the longest hair from the rest of the women.
"Why am I the only one getting this, uhm, "spruced up" for this occasion?" Meryl asked, feeling a little sheepish with how much attention was being given to her.
They had even rubbed her up with oils and scents. This was getting too much. They were treating her as if she was part of the family when she was clearly not!
"It is an experiment I had been planning to do on you for a while now." Added Marie with a mischievous glint in her eyes and in her smile. "And it is Christmas Eve too, we can't have you lookin' like a man."
"What does that mean?!"
"Hush, honey, just play along."
"But you and Hanna aren't even wearing a Corset!"
Marie groaned and playfully squeezed Meryl's cheeks between her thumb, index and middle finger.
"Please, indulge me in this honey, I want to see with my own eyes the impression you create on our fellow men."
"M-m-men?! More people?!" Marie covered Meryl's mouth with her finger to stop her stammering.
"Come on, we'll have some fun tonight."
"Can you at least loosen the corset a bit?" whined Meryl.
"All right, a little bit, hun."
She loosened the straps to the point that Meryl could actually breathe a little better. They finished preparing her and in the dimly lit room she stood in front of the mirror, gaping at how she looked.
"I thought I would never wear a dress."
"Now, you are, hun." Marie came to her side, resting her hand on Meryl's shoulder. "Whatcha think?"
Meryl looked at the dark navy dress in the dim light, it hugged her breasts and rested on her hips than dropped straight down to the floor, although there was much space for movement.
"Uhm, nice?"
"You mean ravishing." Corrected Marie sternly. "What do you think, Hanna?"
"Very lovely." She quietly responded.
"How long do I have to wear this?" Meryl groaned.
"Until we all retire for the night."
"Which means early in the morning, right?" added Meryl dead-pan.
Marie chuckled, patted her shoulder than linked her arm with hers and dragged her out of the room.
"I am not ready for this attention, Marie." Hissed Meryl in a low voice with anxiety gripping her, but Marie didn't respond and just continued to drag her along.
There was more activity and sound coming from downstairs now, the mingling of laughter and chatter created a festive atmosphere. But Meryl was not liking any of this. She was downright confused about this. Why would they have her be part of this when she was practically a stranger to them? It has been only a week, yet they treat her like they have known her for life, well except Connor, God knows what this man's feelings were towards her. Gripped by uncertainty, she froze in her steps, prompting Marie to unexpectedly let go her go before entering the room.
"What's wrong, honey? You have the jitters?"
Meryl lowered her eyes, a mix of emotions flooding her body.
"This is too much to handle, Marie."
"Why?"
Meryl paused, wringing her hands nervously.
"I am practically a stranger to this household."
"Pff, nonsense, honey! Not to me, Ingrid or Hanna."
"But to the others, Achilles and Connor specifically." Meryl said in a low dejected voice. "At first I was shackled, treated like a prisoner then suddenly released – can't you understand how conflicting this all is to me?"
"Perfectly, Miss Briar." Said a mildly rasping voice behind them. "However, that should not disrupt the cheerful and festive spirit of Christmas Eve."
It startled Meryl to the point that the remotest emotion she had on her face had disappeared leaving a neutral expression. Achilles hobbled to her side, he was dressed in his best clothes as well.
"You look lovely tonight, Miss Briar. The dress suits you well."
"Thank you…?"
"Could you accompany me into the dining room?" he offered her his arm. "My leg is quite bothersome at present."
"Uhm, sure, Achilles." Meryl hesitantly placed her hand on his arm and they walked into the dining area.
The laughter and chatter seized the moment they had appeared. The room was filled with so many unfamiliar faces that it stressed Meryl more. There were at least over ten people or more, she recognized the Scottish lumber jacks, Myriam, Hanna, Marie, but the other faces she really didn't give two fucks about, because she was stressed out of her mind.
"Good evening to you all and a merry Christmas Eve to you. May I introduce our guest, Meryl Briar from New York." Announced Achilles graciously to the guests.
Meryl looked around the room, feeling all the eyes resting on her. Then she saw him, all the way in the back of the room leaning his back against the wall with his arms over his chest with his serious face on lock down. His expression almost came across as distrusting and tense. He was the only one in the room that didn't bother to dress up.
What's with that frown, seriously?
Was he constipated?
That thought lightened up her mood and she mustered a smile. Fuck him! She will enjoy the night. Achilles led her to the guests, the first people that came to her were the Scottish lumberjacks.
"Hullo there, Miss Briar." Greeted the bearded Scottsman with a grin accompanied by the other younger Scott. "We wanted to apologize for the little misshap with Myriam."
"Aye, sorry 'bout that, Miss Briar." Added the young Scott.
"Oh, uhh, no worries, it happens." Meryl said with a nervous smile.
The party was now in full swing, everybody took a plate of food from the buffet table and drank heartily. Captain Faulkner had been also invited and he drank to his heart content. Faces from the Homestead and beyond were invited. Marie and the Scottish wives were chatting loudly in the corner between bouts of laughter, munching of food and pastries while Hanna remained in the presence of Connor. She listened to the conversation that happened around Connor with a glass of wine in her hand. She was smiling brightly albeit shyly at times.
Meryl had been sitting a seat away from Marie and the noisy Scottish wives, watching absently the people in the room. She saw the grand father clock ticking away, agonizingly too slow, the hour hand resting at 9 PM.
"Only 9 PM." Meryl sighed with disgruntle in her glass of whatever the fuck it was.
Was it rum? Beer? Wine? Moonshine? Argh, she really didn't give a fuck. This shit was not getting her drunk enough and quickly. At least Connor looked like he was "mildly" or even pretending to enjoy himself, talking away with the lumberjacks and other men which made Hanna smile. There were fleeting moments where his face lit up, his facial muscles sometimes awkwardly trying to make him smile but he kept repressing it. He never had a toothy smile on his face. The dead giveaway of his emotions were his chestnut brown eyes, they acquired a certain warm glint about them which allowed others to see his emotions. Or at least he allowed that to happen. His body looked more relaxed, not guarded or tense, he at times used his hands to express things or lightly touched whoever he spoke to. He kept unwavering eye contact with whomever he spoke. She couldn't hear how much his voice changed when he spoke to those familiar to him, as the clatter of dishes, chinking of glasses, loud chatter and laughter blotted out his voice.
Meryl instinctively lowered her gaze when she saw Connor had directly looked at her from across the room. Her heart jumped to her throat.
The fuck, was wrong with her? Why was she staring at him in the first place?!
"Hanna looks positively happy." Marie suddenly said with a little poke of her elbow into Meryl's side.
"Yup, she does." Meryl stated with indifference and looked at Hanna's beaming face. "She is thoroughly enjoying Connor's presence that's for sure."
She downed the contents of her glass with a hiss.
"Huh, you noticed?"
Meryl nodded without even looking at Marie. It was pretty obvious from the beginning. Hanna was always all smiles and flustered whenever Connor was mentioned. And she always was the one to get Connor whenever Ingrid, Marie and Achilles needed some help with manual labor. She was shy about her feelings, like a school girl with her first crush.
"Pretty obvious, symptoms."
"Symptoms, honey?" Marie eyed her with a raised eye brow
Meryl rolled her eyes and looked at Marie with a forced smile.
"Oh I am sorry, I meant "traits" or "patterns". Is that better?" Meryl corrected herself with exaggerated sarcasm.
"That is a very detached manner of viewing love, honey." Marie noted with concern, but then widened her eyes in realization with a knowing smile spreading on her face. "Does your bitterness stem from the lack of finding love?"
Marie's words struck Meryl so strongly that she quickly scoffed at Marie, to cover up her insecurity.
"No, actually life has made me bitter instead." answered Meryl nonchalantly, without looking at her, painful repressed memories of her mother, her grand parents death and even the losses in her Marine career flooding her body.
Meryl took a deep breath, to quickly clear her emotions and feelings. She put up her best smile in Marie's direction.
"Anyway. I will get me some more of whatever the hell it is and come back, I am not drunk enough to enjoy this party." Meryl got up from her seat, grinning at Marie.
"Careful now, hun. Watch your liquor."
Meryl chortled at Marie's sass.
"Pff, do not insult my Scottish ancestors, liquor runs through their veins."
Marie laughed at her comeback. Meryl got up and winked at Marie. She made her way towards the dining table, she looked at the pitchers finding them empty. She sighed. This was going to be a looooooooong night. She looked around, then headed into the kitchen and lo-and-behold liquor in dark bottles! Meryl exhaled in utter bliss as her fingers gripped the smooth surface of the bottle. She looked around her, checking if anybody was watching her. Meryl grabbed the bottle, wrapped the wool shawl around herself and stepped out of the back door of the kitchen.
The chill of the night air hit her strong against her body, almost like the impact of a truck. Hah. Truck…
Fuck.
She walked to her now proclaimed favorite spot on the Davenport property, the cliff - secretly and officially christened "Briar cliff"…that has a nice sound to it. She heard the waves crashing against the rockfaces below, drowning out all sounds around her.
Fuck, she was homesick. She wanted a Cheese burger, Mac and Cheese, Doritos, Cheetos, Coke, COFFEE, a shower, and a warm bed! With her teeth she uncorked the bottle, spat the cork on the ground and took a few heavy swigs of the liquor with a hiss.
"Damn, that fucking hit the spot!" She hissed almost delirious with pleasure.
"I have never seen a woman vigorously relishing a bottle of liquor." Spoke out a British baritone voice from behind her.
Meryl almost shrieked, nearly losing the bottle and also her footing. (What the fuck is wrong with this world, with people surprising her like that?!) The person quickly steadied her, both his warm hands clasping her upper arms.
"My apologies, Miss Briar, I didn't mean to startle you." His baritone voice was apologetic, the silvery-quality of his voice almost teasing her ear.
Meryl abruptly broke from the person's physical contact and stepped away having actually forgotten the warmth of a man's touch (Oh God had it been that long already?!). She finally faced the individual, quickly putting the liquor bottle behind her back to save herself some dignity, but that failed when she saw who had approached her.
In front of her stood, a tall and slender man, dressed in very well-tailored clothes which complemented his slim frame. His garments consisted of a heavy dark wool embroidered coat which extend to mid-thigh highlighted by thick stitching or braid around the lapels and along the golden metallic loops and buttons of his coat. Underneath the coat peaked maybe a dark silk waist coat which was completely buttoned, accompanied by a silk scarf wrapped around his neck. He wore knee-length breeches that fit his lower body rather, uhm, snugly which also held in place his dark stockings. Over these stockings he wore a dark leather riding boots that again were perfectly tailored for his calves. The ruffles from his white shirt sleeves poking out of his coat's sleeves was such a strange thing. 18th century fashion was downright comical to look at, especially if it was ill-fitting, but damn this man… Meryl could not ridicule the wearer of this particular outfit.
The face that accompanied that body was of light complexion as if he didn't get much sun. His hair was auburn and wavy, tied back in a low pony tail. His face was equally slim, well shaved, and oval with pronounced cheek bones and an angular jaw and squared chin. He had a fine nose and fine lips. The area of his dark eyebrows protruded a bit to frame his deep set eyes which were difficult to see due to the dim light of the starry sky. A dazzling smile appeared on his face which made Meryl's heart skip a beat. (Since when has she become a fucking damsel?!)
"Are you all right?" he inquired with concern, maintaining his charming infectious smile.
Meryl was speechless for a moment, but then quickly cleared her throat, her senses and logic returning when realizing there was a stranger talking to her, a rather good looking one, outside and away from everybody else.
"I am fine, thank you." She replied in a reserved manner, scrutinizing him carefully.
The young man who was maybe in his early thirties, leaned his hand against the cane he had brought with him. He then cleared his throat.
"May I join you?" he asked her, raising his eyes to meet hers.
"Uhm…" Meryl could barely utter a sentence, this man was dazzling her senses with his charms, maybe his applied charms.
It made her feel more guarded now, this guy was the dangerous kind that women fell for and who disappeared at the sight of trouble. She also could be completely wrong, but she had to remain on her guard and if he turns into a rapists, he will be the first 18th century man to have his testicles torn off.
"I haven't seen you at the party, Mister…"
"Alexander Leighton, Miss Briar." He answered calmly, his smile was toned down a bit (Thank God!).
"Nope, I haven't seen you or heard of you at the party."
"I was there when Master Davenport introduced you to the guests."
"I would have seen you, you are very hard to miss." Justified Meryl with a curt tone in her voice, then realizing that she said this out loud.
"So are you, Miss Briar." He added with a confident smile.
Fuck. The game is on! He wants to play, okay fine, we will play.
"And why didn't you approach me earlier on, hmm?" Meryl crossed her arms over her chest with a raised eye brow.
Not once did this man's behavior falter or flinch, he kept his playful face and charm.
"I was discussing business with Master Davenport."
"Where?"
"In Master Davenport's study, right across the dining room."
"How about afterwards?"
"May I inquire the reason for this Spanish inquisition interrogation, Miss Briar? Do you doubt my intentions?"
"Of course I do." She responded blatantly, her distrust evident in her tone and body language. "Who would wait until a person is on their own and away from company to approach them, hmmm, Mr. Leighton?"
"Who would stroll outside by themselves with a bottle of liquor in the middle of a night, Miss Briar?"
Meryl scoffed with her hands on her hips, waving her finger at him.
"You are good." She admitted with a "touché" smile and he responded with a suave chuckle.
"I am also a rather timid gentleman, Miss Briar." He asserted, moving a little closer using his cane, but leaving an appropriate distance between them (why does he even need that?! He is not even limping?!) .
"Pff. Oh yeah, sure, you and shy?" she waved her hand at him dismissively. "You are pretty direct for a shy guy."
Alexander's lips pursued to contain his amusement.
"You are a very peculiar woman with a peculiar sense of expression, Miss Briar."
Meryl scoffed at him, offended by his comment, but at the same time annoyed that her comments were not chasing him away.
"And you are not peculiar too? What are you supposed to be? A timid gentleman stalking his prey?" she back sassed him.
Alexander's couldn't contain himself anymore, his face turned red and he burst into belly-deep laughter. Meryl's face puffed up in anger and humiliation. What was he laughing about? A part of her wanted to walk away and leave that asshole, actually no scratch that, a part of her wanted to stomp his face in, but she remained still trying hard not to beat the shit out of him. When his laughter died down and he wiped away the tears, he noticed Meryl's angry face nearing its exploding point. He quickly readjusted himself, cleared his throat.
"Pardon my manners, Miss Briar," he gave a quick apologetic bow. "I cannot remember the last time I had laughed this much before. Please, forgive my indiscretions and accept my sincerest apology."
This man was good, she had to give him that, switching between the charmer and the sensitive man – props to him. But at the same time, if he truly was after her, in a taking-advantage situation, wouldn't the laughing be fatal for his ruse? Pff! She was being too nice to him. With little regard to 18th century womanly decorum she took a swig from the liquor bottle, her chin raised and eyes looking at him with defiance. He rested both his hands over his cane, the right corner of his lips raised in with a mix of amusement and some cockiness. She hissed after finishing her last swig, but she still didn't feel tipsy, with a disgruntled look on her face she stared at the remaining liquid swirling in the bottle. Where is the fucking vodka? She turned away from him, looking at the view with a sigh.
"You better try your luck elsewhere, Mr. Leighton." She declared loudly over the sound of the crashing waves down below, then she eyed him. "I am not blind or stupid, I know that cunning ruse all too well."
Alexander released a hum, leaving a moment of silence settle between them. The wind rustled the skeletal trees nearby and the waves crashed against the shore and the rockface. Meryl looked at the dark horizon, taking note of the bright stars overhead. It was impossible to see the stars in 21st century New York City due to the pollution. To her dislike Meryl felt him join her side.
"I find your company very pleasing, Miss Briar." He said his baritone voice, sounding so smooth and pleasing to the ear.
"Wow, now that is a first, a man actually enjoying my presence." Meryl snickered without looking at him.
"Let me be the first man to prove you otherwise." He declared affirmatively.
His statement actually threw Meryl off completely and she reflected her surprise by staring at him with astonishment. The warmth and sincerity in his face was intimidating for her, because in her experience with men, many of them had manipulated her, the weak, fragile Meryl. Yes, she had trust issues, but doesn't everybody? Especially when a rather handsome man approaches them out of the blue and please, she was not sheltered. She knew more about men than she liked to admit, especially the more grimy details.
"You have a strange taste in women, Mr. Leighton. Are you sure you are not drunk?"
Alexander chortled at her.
"I am clean as a whistle, Miss Briar." He stated calmly, both his hands resting on his cane and looking out to the horizon.
"I can't shake you off, can I?" she mumbled, chewing on her lip.
"Your strategy to warrant unwanted attention has failed on me." Alexander stated in a playful which made Meryl scoff.
"Failed on you? Oh honey, this is no strategy, this is who I am, but if you truly knew me," she took a hearty swig from the bottle and gave him a mysterious eye. "You'd be running with your tail between your legs like all men."
She bit her lip, the sourness of her topic and tone making her look away to the horizon.
"Miss Briar, are you implying that I am merely judging you like a cover of a book?" he asked after a pause, earning her attention as his tone had become earnest.
"Yes. Men always do."
"Don't we all, Miss Briar?" he responded with a rebuttal, keeping eye contact with his warm penetrative gaze. "Beauty is in the hand of the beholder."
The fuuuuuuuuuuuuck?!
The intensity of his gaze coupled by his voice and what he said made Meryl's heart lurch. She looked away and sighed in abandonment. Can this guy just leave already, please? He keeps her on her toes all the time, driving her stupid woman brain crazy with his witty comebacks, his voice, his charming smile and deep eyes… At the same time she had to admit that it was quite ego-boosting that a handsome man had taken some interest in her, even in the middle of the fucking 18th century Frontier.
"I do not think I have properly introduced myself." Alexander cleared his throat, straightened himself out and faced her with a bow. "I am Alexander Leighton, a tea merchant from London, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"I am Meryl Briar from New York, nice to meet you." She curtsied, which Ingrid and Marie drilled into her.
"A tea merchant, huh? Rather interesting profession right now."
Alexander knew very well what she insinuated, but did not let that affect him and merely returned a playful smile.
"You have penchant for antagonism, Miss Briar?"
"Penchant?"
"A fondness for antagonism."
"Oooh." She realized and then smiled at him apologetically. "Sorry, your vocabulary can be a little foreign to me."
Alexander tilted his head with interest.
"Miss Briar, your expressions and speech pattern is something I have never heard before even though I have been living in the colonies for many years. Where are you from?"
Meryl's heart sank with apprehension. Shit! What to do? Play dumb, good idea.
"What do you mean? If you haven't realized there are so many immigrants of different countries with so many different accents living in New York, you put that together and you get what I speak. The only thing I know about is that my ancestors were Scottish."
"From Scotland?" he repeated, thinking it over and when it clicked maybe from the name and something else, he added with a sly smile "That explains your high tolerance for liquor."
Or she was Russian and she did not know that.
Alexander was about to open his mouth to probably question her more when an all too familiar distinct voice called to him.
"Mr. Leighton,"
In the darkness of the night there came Connor lumbering in their direction, his hatchet lightly clanking against his pistol that hung at his hip and he stopped a few feet short from them his expression grave and his arms crossed over his chest. Meryl's heart lurched at the sight of Connor which confused her and made her uneasy. Connor's intense eyes gazed both at Alexander and Meryl, but Meryl felt more self-conscious, because for some reason her paranoid body was telling her that his stare was more intense towards her.
"Achilles wishes to speak to you." Said Connor with a curt and direct tone again with an air of distrust gracing his features.
"Oh?" noted Alexander with surprise, thrown off by the interruption, but quickly he recovered by clearing his throat.
"Well now, I must not make Master Davenport wait," Alexander resumed with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he then directed his full attention to Meryl. "Miss Briar, it has been a pleasure and an honor to make your acquaintance."
"It's been a pleasure too, Mr. Leighton." She responded with a smile.
Without warning or without foresight from Meryl's part, he gently grasped her hand, bringing his face close to the back of her hand to plant a light kiss. Meryl's heart jumped to her throat, sending an electric shock through her body… when did this act and his heart shattering penetrative gaze make her so weak kneed? He backed away with a bow and with his charming smile.
"Until our paths cross again, Miss Briar."
He turned away and headed back to the manor while Meryl was left dumbstruck. Never in her life had a man done that to her, left her so utterly speechless and brain dead. Her brain had turned to mush, nothing was coherent. What the fuck just happened? What the fuck did he do to her?
"You look cold."
"Sorry, what did you say?" she stammered absentmindedly, hearing Connor's voice bringing her to the painfully realization that Connor has been there staring at her the entire time.
"It is getting colder. You should go inside." His blunt statement, actually surprisingly didn't annoy her maybe because her brain was probably still like mush.
"Okay…" she replied in a meek tone without looking at him.
She willed her body to move but it wouldn't budge, that bastard had paralyzed her with his charm. Meryl sighed. Then rather impulsively and for the sake of loosening her body, she gulped down the remaining the contents of the liquor bottle that she had been holding in her hand the entire time. She hissed when the liquor washed down her throat, leaving a burning trail behind. When she felt the numbness and the sudden heavy weighted feeling in her head, did it make her crack a big grin on her face.
"Fuck yeah, I am tipsy now." She cheered with both fists raised to the sky.
She misjudged the eagerness of pumping her fists in the air that it made her stumble backwards. Connor had immediately lunged for her, grabbing a hold of her arm, coming over to her side and steadying her. His rough hand grasping her arm had sent sparks down her spine. Her physical senses were set aflame. Although he was at her side and his chest just a few inches away from her arm – her senses were on overdrive. She practically felt his body radiating with heat, her body again reminding her that it had been too long since she felt a man's touch. Their eyes met, which made Meryl's stomach squirm, it was too dark to clearly see what emotions they had in their eyes.
Immediately noticing the danger of this contact, the closeness and eye contact and the fact that her inhibitions were questionable with alcohol in her body, she quickly broke away from his contact to avoid any more awkwardness.
"Thanks, I can manage." She stated succinctly.
"Are you certain?" he verified, asking for the sake of politeness rather than concern.
"Yes, thank you, Connor." She dismissively answered. "I had anyway my fill of liquor and this party. Some shut-eye sounds damn great now."
She walked back at the manor with Connor walking behind her, probably ready to catch her if she fell over again. Pfff! They walked towards the manor in silence, entering through the kitchen. Meryl left the empty bottle on the table. Then she sped her pace, focusing her attention on the stairs. Luckily, everybody was too busy chatting, drinking, eating and laughing to notice her go up the stairs.
When she stood in front of the entrance to her bedroom, did she hear the lumbering footsteps not too far behind her. She turned around, back pressed against her door with her arms crossed over her chest.
"I am fine, Connor." She sighed with exasperation, seeing him approaching her and coming to a stop at a respectable distance.
"Your poor footing outside proved otherwise." He stated cooly.
"Okay, Connor." She rolled her eyes heavenward, internally chanting to herself not to hack Connor to pieces with his hatchet. "Thank you for your help. I'll see ya tomorrow. Good night now."
She gave him a forced smile and a casual salute in his direction then entered her room without another word. Meryl went to her fireplace and stoked the fire, feeling the chill in the room. She peeled off her clothes, sighing with blissful relief being freed from the evil clutches of the corset and the dress. She undid her hair and slipped on her nightgown and threw herself under the covers of her bed.
A stupid smile appeared on her face as she snuggled into her pillow and within no time she was in slumber land.
