"Hm, take a guess…" he mused. "What do you think I am? A good man or a bad one?"
Elain clamped her mouth shut and stepped away. "I will fetch a cloth to bind your wound."
She turned away and went to the storage room of the cottage, her heart beating fast. She wasn't sure if he was being playful, or if the man truly had a questionable character, as his taunting eyes suggested.
When she returned to the living room of the cottage, she held a long linen cloth in her hand. The rain had still not stopped.
"I have to bind it over your shirt. Once you have arrived at… wherever you are going, I suggest you have it properly bound," she said, taking reluctant steps towards the stranger.
He raised one of his thick eyebrows, as though suggesting it would be better if she bound him without the shirt, but there was no way on earth she would offer that. He could have it done by someone else if that would satisfy him. Vector could do it. After all, the coachman would be arriving any moment.
Once she stepped into his space again, her hands felt stiff.
"Care to tell me your name?" he asked.
Should she tell him her real name?
"Anna," she lied.
She wasn't sure what had pushed her to lie about her name. The man was intimidating and looked a bit shady, but he hadn't done anything to harm her. It should have been alright to give her real name. But perhaps it was his too-curious gaze that made her want to keep her privacy.
Besides, if he was indeed someone from the upper towns, he could tell others that they had met here, alone in a cottage. Her aunt had already been seeking marriage prospects for her, and she shouldn't sabotage that with rumours of impropriety.
"You are so tense. Did you lie?"
She stiffened.
She met his gaze, which watched her with a knowing look, as if he already knew the answer. It sent shivers down her spine.
She must only be overthinking it.
"I am tense because I am not used to being so close to a man, let alone binding his wound," she said, refusing to admit her lie.
"My apologies if our proximity makes you uncomfortable." He gave her a crooked smile, not sounding apologetic at all. "It cannot be helped, can it? After all, you offered to tend to my wound."
So he was saying she was to blame for her discomfort? If he only spoke less and allowed her to finish, this would have been much easier.
"I'm Rafe."
Rafe? The name did not ring a bell in Elain's mind, which brought a quiet sense of relief to her chest.
Although she did not usually attend soirées and balls, she often heard prominent names from her aunt and cousin.
The Blythmor family's main residence was in the central city, in the town of Ferrygrove, one of the upper districts where the high society resided.
Lady Cynthia had always taught Rory and Elain to conduct themselves with propriety, especially when in the company of wealthy families. As Rory had a tendency towards clumsiness, Cynthia often reminded her which individuals she ought to avoid, or at the very least, address with greater care.
Because such discussions were frequent within the mansion, Elain had also become familiar with the names of the most respected figures in Liandel.
She had committed them to memory intentionally, of course. One of Cynthia's rules was to never bring trouble upon the Blythmors, and Elain thought it only prudent to take note of those she must not cross if she wished her life to remain undisturbed.
"Please raise your left arm," Elain told the man.
He obeyed without question. She crouched before him and slid the cloth beneath his arm, drawing it across his back, the ends meeting at his right shoulder. Elain took great care to avoid any contact between their skin.
Yet even without touching, the closeness nearly stole the air from her lungs.
She hastily tied the ends of the cloth over his shoulder.
"I have very limited experience in binding a man's wounds, so I do apologise if it is not…" Her brows knit as she searched for the proper word. "As neat as a physician's work."
She stepped back, and only then did the tightness in her chest begin to ease. Being so near him had made it difficult to breathe. How could she, when she had felt his unwavering gaze upon her the entire time?
What sort of brute behaved as though he had never seen a woman before? It was hardly the conduct of a proper gentleman. Clearly, he was not a man who cared for decorum.
The sort she ought to avoid.
He glanced at the cloth bound across his chest and shoulder, a hint of amusement curving his lips into a smirk.
Elain cleared her throat, warmth rising to her cheeks. "As I mentioned, you may have it redone once you arrive at your destination."
She turned towards the window, and her expression brightened when she realised the rain had finally stopped.
A moment later, the sound of hooves reached her ears.
The coach had arrived at last!