Despise and Despair

10. Gone Up In Flames.

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Please ignore errors, it's late here so I didn't edit it (I will edit at some stage)

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"Achooo!"

"Ms Anne! Please do cover your mouth when you wish to sneeze." Mr Stafford said, tossing a piece of wood onto the fire Alexandre made. "I do not wish to catch whatever disease you may have."

Yeah? Well, I beg to differ. You were not thinking that when we almost-

"How many times must I say this, Ms Anne? Please keep your thoughts to yourself." He suddenly took two strides so that he was now standing in front of me.

I gulped. "Yes, Mr Stafford, Sir."

Bollocks! I have to stop thinking out loud.

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, causing Alexandre to glare at me.

"Monsieur Stafford, I may have been wrong about her being a femme. I fear a porc has accompanied us," This time, I shot daggers at him. "A very peu attrayant porc, I might add."

Mr Stafford looked over his shoulder at the Frenchman. "I would not call her peu attrayant Alexandre. However, you are indeed right about her being a porc manner-wise."

"What does Porc and pinu attrageng even mean?"

"Peu attrayant, Ms Anne," he kindly corrected me.

"Whatever," I scoffed and folded my arms across my chest, then shuffled closer to the fire in hopes it would dry my still-wet clothes. "What does it mean?"

"Porc means pig, Ms Anne,"

"You called me a pig?" I growled at Alexandre, who was smirking. "I am not a pig! I am a lady!"

Ha! You, a lady? Keep telling yourself that, Olivia.

"Mademoiselle is no Dame either." That smirk remained on his face. "Regardless of your-" he gestures to my body. "-Looks."

In an instant, my emotions boiled over, and I felt like a child having a tantrum. Without thinking, I stamped my foot on the ground and balled my hands into tight fists, ready to confront Alexandre. However, before I could utter a word, I felt two arms enveloping me from behind, stopping me in my tracks.

"Alexandre, go and scout the area." Mr Stafford ordered, still holding me.

Alexandre paid no attention to us. "As you wish, Monsieur," he mumbled something in French, then simply mounted his horse and left.

I stepped out of Mr Stafford's grasp before he could say a word. "You think I look like a pig?"

How dare he compare me with one of those animals!

"Ms Anne, I recall stating your manners were piglike." I suddenly found myself spun around and facing him. Blue eyes, as dark as the ocean, roamed my face. "You do not look like a pig," leaning down to my level, he whispered into my left ear, "A pig is nothing compared to you."

In a swift motion, he took a step back from my presence and proceeded to gather pieces of wood, his movements deliberate and focused.

"Mr Stafford, Sir, you are so-so-so-so-"

"Yes?" he tossed a piece of wood onto the fire. "I am what Ms Anne?"

Groaning, I ran a hand through my wet hair. "Ugh! I do not know!"