Page 29 of May Queen: May Day

“Aye, thinking she is pregnant would stop Ricard from marrying her,” agreed Flora. “However, I know my uncle. He’ll weasel a way into getting out of that lie if he has to.”

“All right, there you go,” said Lang, all but dropping his end of the trunk and hurrying toward the door.

“Wait!” she called out and lifted a finger in the air. “I don’t think that’s a good place to put it after all. How about over there near the window?”

“You want it moved again?” asked Nash, trying to catch his breath. It was an extra large trunk and filled to capacity.

“What difference does it make?” asked Lang.

“I just think I’d like it there better,” she told him with a sweet smile.

“All right, but let’s make it fast,” grumbled Lang. “I need to return to the solar within ten minutes and I’m running out of time. It took longer than I thought to haul that heavy trunk up the spiral staircase. What’s in that thing? Bricks of gold?”

“I wish,” she said with a chuckle. “Nay, I just have some of my belongings in there. I’m not sure why it’s so heavy.” She knew exactly why it was so heavy. It was the rocks she’d taken from her mother’s herb garden that were hidden under all the clothes. The stones had Druid symbols painted on the bottoms, and her mother used them while meditating in nature. Of course, she’d always had them face down so no one would notice, but they were supposedly very sacred stones. As a child, Flora discovered the symbols on them one day while digging for worms. That’s when her mother told her the rocks were special.

Lang walked by and Flora saw the missive sticking out of his pocket. She reached out for it but he stopped and turned back to her and smiled. “You know, I think my brother is being ridiculous about this whole thing. Even without the promised money for the dowry, I would marry you anyway and without complaining. You’re one of the prettiest, nicest ladies I’ve ever met.”

“Why, thank you, Sir Lang, but I do think your compliments are inappropriate since I am betrothed to your brother.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said with a wink and hurried over to move the trunk. Flora smiled inwardly. Now that she knew Lang was attracted to her, she also figured he would do anything for her. So she kept him and Nash moving the trunk back and forth, trying her best to steal the missive, but to no avail. Finally, Lang sat down atop the trunk with an exasperated sigh and wiped his brow with his sleeve.

“Take your time deciding, my lady. As it is, I’ll never make it back in time to the solar now for a taste of the wine anyway,” said Lang with a frown on his face. “By the time I find the messenger and return, it’ll be well over the allotted ten minutes.”

She suddenly had an idea. “Sir Lang, I think that is the perfect place for the trunk.”

“All right, let’s go. I need to get to the armory and polish Lord Ricard’s armor,” said Nash, hurrying to the door. Lang followed, but Flora stopped him.

“Sir Lang?”

“Aye, my lady?” He turned back, looking worn and discouraged.

“Why don’t you let me deliver the missive to the messenger?” She held out her hand. “I think if you hurry, you’ll still be able to get back to Lord Ricard’s solar within the allotted ten minutes, don’t you agree?”

A smile spread across his face and his eyes darted out to the corridor and back. “Would you really do that for me?” he asked in a low voice, probably just so Nash wouldn’t hear if he was still there.

“Of course. I’d be more than happy to help out.” She moved her palm closer.

He eagerly grabbed the missive from his pocket, but seemed to be having doubts about giving it to her.

“I’m not sure Lord Ricard would like this idea.”

“I am going to be Lady of Black Creek Castle, so there is no reason not to give it to me.”

“True,” he agreed. “But you don’t know my brother. If he finds out I didn’t follow his orders, he’s not going to be happy.”

“I won’t tell him if you won’t,” she said playfully, throwing his own words back at him. Then, to seal the deal . . . she winked.

Startled by her action, he jolted. Then a smile spread across his face. “Here you are,” he said, dropping the missive into her palm. “Just be sure the messenger gets it, and that he leaves for Wiltshire immediately, or Ricard will have my head.”

“You don’t need to worry,” she said, as he headed out the door.

“Oh, and be sure the seal doesn’t get broken. The missive is for the baron’s eyes only.”

“I understand,” she said again, shamelessly flirting with him. “Enjoy the wine,” she whispered, and giggled.

“I will!” Lang took off at a run down the corridor.

As soon as he left, Flora slammed the door and pried the seal off the missive, breaking the wax in the process.