“Yes, you are. Should you be, Lucian?” Maggie asked.
“No, usually I take five steps and then end up in my room. I’m on tenterhooks waiting to see when the inn realises I’m free and shoves me inside.”
“Indeed,” Maggie said, giggling. “I imagine you dislike being kicked back in!”
“Yes, I most certainly do. I can feel the sun, Maggie, on my skin for the first time in three centuries!” Lucian leaned and tipped his face upwards, feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays. He closed his eyes in happiness and took a few moments for himself.
“Good?” Maggie asked softly, and Lucian groaned, allowing his joy to leak.
“Wonderful, and I believe you have something to do with this,” Lucian responded, looking back at Maggie. A huge smile crossed his face, and Maggie blinked at him. She had a rather dazed look herself, Lucian noted. How interesting.
“Me?” Maggie finally responded, shaking herself.
“Yes, you’ve affected the inn somehow, and now I can leave,” Lucian replied. Maggie bristled, and Lucian held in a sigh as he realised that she thought he was blaming her for something. Lucian disappeared and reappeared a few moments later, holding a red rose.
“Whatever you did, Maggie, thank you,” Lucian said sincerely.
Maggie stared at him, dazed again, as he offered the same smile and then turned her gaze to the flower in his hand. Lucian held it out to her, and Maggie’s slender fingers reached for it. Hers touched his, and a tingle ran down Lucian’s spine. Maybe Henrietta was correct. Maggie was his soul mate. Now how to get Maggie to understand?
“What are you doing?” Lucian asked, realising that showing interest in what she was doing was a good start.
“I’m looking at the designs for the bedrooms. Melisandre has drawn several for each bedroom, but I’m unsure which to choose.”
“Can I help?” Lucian sought, and Maggie blinked as he moved closer. Lucian suddenly grasped that Maggie was aware of his closeness and held back a grin just in time.
“Are you being serious?” Maggie urged.
“Yes, let me; I know my era better than Melisandre,” Lucian said, pulling at a folder. He shifted along the bench they were sitting on until his thigh touched hers. Maggie wriggled a little, and Lucian almost crowed. She wasn’t unaffected by him, after all. But Maggie was a different kettle of fish to the women he’d courted. Lucian had only two lovers during his life. One an actress he’d set up nicely and the other an opera singer. The rest of his time he spent dodging match-making mamas. Maggie would have to be pursued slowly, especially considering their history.
“Here, see this colour. It’s almost accurate, but it would have been a slightly darker green,” Lucian said, pointing to the first image.
“There wasn’t any wallpaper untouched by the sun in that room, so Melisandre had to make a guess,” Maggie responded, tipping her head to the picture.
“It is a good job my memory has not faded. The green was darker, the floors were dark stained wood, and there were matching curtains and a rug on the floor. The bed coverings were a paler green with silver thread,” Lucian replied. “Will the furniture be staying?”
“Melisandre said she believed it was original to the room, so yes. The only items I believe we need to add are a sofa or a comfortable recliner. The bedroom has a bed, chest of drawers and wardrobes, but it has space for a settee or armchair.”
“There is a writing desk missing and a chair. It was under the window, so the light fell on the table. I wonder what happened to it,” Lucian mused, digging into his memories.
“I’ll make a note,” Maggie muttered, scribbling on the picture. “Is everything else correct?”
“It appears so. What will you do with the wash bowl, jug, and bed warmer?” Lucian asked and then blushed a little. “The chamber pot?”
Maggie giggled.
“The bowl will be filled with potpourri, and the jug placed in the centre. That’ll hold some flowers. The bedwarmer we aim to hang on the walls, and the chamber pot will also have a plant. The entire room was wallpapered in your day, but we plan to wallpaper the wall the bed rests against and leave the Tudor plaster and wood uncovered.”
“That sounds wise. Is there a demand for this type of inn?” Lucian sought, truly curious.
“Yes, people prefer old-fashioned castles and inns, etc. We should be able to fill up on bookings easily,” Maggie confirmed. Lucian cocked his head at her.
“What do you intend to do in the inn?” he asked, and Maggie frowned. Lucian wondered if he’d upset her.
“I’d love to cook, but the number of tables out there, I’d never manage on my own. I suppose I should look to hire a chef and two sous chefs at least. If we open as a restaurant, I would think that’s best. I could do paperwork, but I’m not too keen on it, and I can pull a pint. I worked behind a bar while my mother was sick. Maybe it sounds lazy, but I don’t want to be the housekeeper either,” Maggie admitted.
“So create your own role,” Lucian suggested.
“What do you mean?”