He nodded. ‘Would you like to come for a walk?’
‘A walk? I was planning to sit by the fire and make a few welcome gifts for the kids.’
‘Sounds nice. A lot less chilly.’ Something in his eyes beckoned her.
‘The forecast’s for snow later on this evening.’
He nodded, looking up at the sky. ‘That looks about right. Are you coming?’
It was a challenge. Aksel was asking her to trust him, and in Flora’s experience trusting a man didn’t usually end well.
But Aksel was different. And what could happen on a windy, snowy hillside? Certainly nothing that involved exposing even a square inch of flesh.
‘Why not? Come in, I’ll get my coat.’
‘You’ll need a pair of sturdy shoes.’ He glanced at the shoe rack in the hall.
‘Even I wouldn’t tackle the countryside in high heels. I have walking boots.’ They were right at the back of the wardrobe, and Flora made for the stairs.
When she came back downstairs, his gaze flipped from her boots to the thick waterproof coat she wore and he gave a little nod of approval. As he strode across the road and towards the woods ahead of them, Flora struggled to keep up and he slowed a little.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I thought up to the old keep.’ He pointed to the hilltop that overlooked the village, where piles of stones and a few remnants of wall were all that was left of the original castle seat of the Ross-Wylde family. ‘Is that too far?’
It looked a long way. The most direct route from the village was up a steep incline, and Aksel was clearly heading for the gentler slope at the other side, which meant they had to go through the woods first.
‘I can make it.’ She wasn’t going to admit to any doubts. ‘Looks like a nice route for a Sunday afternoon.’
He kept his face impressively straight. If Aksel had any doubts about her stamina, he’d obviously decided to set them aside in response to her bravado. Perhaps he reckoned that he could always carry her for part of the way.
‘I think so.’ His stride lengthened again, as if he’d calculated the exact speed they’d need to go to get back by teatime. Flora fell into step with him, finding that the faster pace wasn’t as punishing as it seemed, and they walked together along the path that led into the trees.
The light slowly began to fail. Flora hoped they’d be home soon, although Aksel didn’t seem averse to stumbling around in the countryside after dark. She felt her heel begin to rub inside her boot and wondered if she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew.
Only their footsteps sounded in the path through the trees. It was oddly calming to walk beside him in silence, both travelling in the same direction without any need for words. Their heads both turned together as the screaming bark of a fox came from off to their left, and in the gathering gloom beneath the trees Flora began to hear the rustle of small creatures, which she generally didn’t stop to notice.
He stopped at the far end of the wood, and Flora was grateful for the chance to catch her breath. Aksel was staring ahead of him at a red-gold sunset flaming across the horizon. It was nothing new, she’d seen sunsets before. But stumbling upon this one seemed different.
‘You’re limping. Sit down.’ He indicated a tree trunk.
Flora had thought she was making a pretty good job of not limping. ‘I’m okay.’
‘First rule of walking. Look after your feet. Sit.’ He was brooking no argument and Flora plumped herself down on the makeshift seat. Aksel knelt in front of her, picking up her foot, and testing the boot to see if it would shift.
‘Ow! Of course it’s going to hurt if you do that...’ she protested, and he ignored her, unlacing the boot. He stripped off her thin sock, the cold air making her toes curl.
‘You’re getting a blister.’ He balanced her foot on his knee, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a blister plaster. It occurred to Flora that maybe he’d come prepared for her as she couldn’t imagine that he ever suffered from blisters.
All the same, it was welcome. He stuck the plaster around her heel, and then pulled a pair of thick walking socks from his pocket.
‘Your feet are moving around in your boots. These should help.’
‘I thought walking boots were meant to be roomy.’ She stared at the socks. They had definitely been brought along for her benefit.
‘They’re meant to fit. When your foot slips around in them, that’s going to cause blisters.’ He slid her boot back on and relaced it. ‘How does that feel?’
She had to admit it. ‘Better. Thanks.’