Lucas leaned on the bed with his undamaged arm, mostly because he was not entirely certain he could stay upright on his own. “I have no standards, I’m afraid. Ask anyone in my acquaintance.”
Her lips pursed in what seemed like annoyance at his quip and she moved toward him. “Let me help you.”
He recoiled as she reached out. “I can get myself into the bed.”
Her brow wrinkled, and when her gaze swept over him, he felt her judgment even more powerfully. She glanced at his face and shrugged. “So you say. Then I shall let you get settled on your own if that is your choice at present. I will return in an hour to bring you some food and to check your wounds.”
She said nothing else, nor did she wait for his answer to her statement. She merely turned on her heel and marched from the room, tugging the door behind herself as she left.
When she was gone, Lucas collapsed against the mattress, too exhausted and pained to even try to remove his boots. He had no idea who the lady was, nor her role in the next few weeks of his life. Perhaps she was the healer’s wife or daughter. Perhaps she was a servant. He supposed he would find out soon enough.
Whatever the answer, her presence, as lovely as it was, did not change the facts of his life. He did not want to be here, and he was going to do everything in his power to get away from this place as soon as possible.