Clara noticed him alright, but she didn't want to say a word to him. Why would she talk to a stranger when she did not have to? So she kept as quiet as she could. At least until she tripped over her own feet and fell forward. That made a decent amount of racket.
A nearby crow was sent explosive on its wings, crying with irritation. "Oh," the stranger coughed, setting the bundle of flowers down and hurrying over. "Miss. Miss?" He addressed awkwardly, just making sure she hadn't hurt herself, "Are you alright..?"
She looked up her face covered with dirt and her hair messed up. She pushed herself up still on her knees. "I'm fine. No need to get all worked up." She sighed.
He offered her a hand, which was also dirty from some dirt. "I haven't seen a good tumble like that since my uncle was alive," Pierre laughed faintly.
She took it forcing a smile. "Must be awful to live without him." She said softly. "Thank you sir, very kind of you." She said brushing herself off.
"Yes, no, no problem, Miss," he brushed himself off despite having no dirt on him— a gesture of empathy perhaps. "My name is Pierre, Miss," he introduced himself.
"Clara, it's a pleasure to meet you." She nodded dropping her smile. She tucked her hair behind her ear knowing it looked like a mess.
Pierre gave her a nod too. "Lovely day. I live in the manor," he gestured loosely in that direction. The flow of his words weren't particularly impressive— merely implying this was a conversation he's had many times before.
"Oh really? Not as stuck up as I thought for someone living in such a nice place would be." She said sounding rather annoyed. Honestly she just wanted to head back home.
His lip twitched. Offended, a little, but wasn't surprised. T'was usually how it went. "Fair enough.. um… Good day, then,"
She sighed. "I didn't mean it like that sir. You're polite. Other men I've met have just laughed. Not sure where the boys at the pond are from, but they're stuck up." She mumbled.
His eyebrows raised. Clearly, young Mr. DeFranqe was not used to this, but part of his expression inclined on forced surprise. Strange. "Thank you," his hands slid into his pants pockets, his eyes wandered to the basket. "We're you about to have lunch, Ms. Clara?"
"Well maybe, if I hadn't lost it. Along with my book." She sighed looking towards her empty basket. "I must've left it at home. Besides the boys were at the pond, I didn't dare stay there."
He backed up some steps to retrieve his bundle of flora. "Well, lunch is fresh ay home, if you need. Guests at always welcome in,"
"Are you sure? I insulted you it seemed, and you're still inviting me over?" She seemed skeptical. "I wouldn't want to intrude."
"Nevermind it." Pierre insisted quickly. Strange man for sure. "We have pickled ham sandwhiches and carrots," he gestured her to follow him.
Clara did so slowly. "If you are so sure." She replied as a small smile slipped upon her lips.
He gave her a faint smile, and turned to lead her along the dirt path. It was flanked by little stone walls and beyond them banks of flowers; mostly leafy, fragrant, herbs like mint and rosemary. Was that sage?
"Say, are you from Colline?"
"Why yes, yes I am. How could you know?" She asked a little bewildered.
"…Well, no horse." He replied after a minute. As if a pause was really necessary. "I figure at least…lucky guess." Pierre faced forward.
She thought for a second. "I wouldn't have noticed that. Do you normally notice details like that?" She asked.
Pierre let his hands fall to his sides. "No," he replied sparingly, "Not usually." It was a lie. He wasnt going to grace a stranger with the truth; it would sound boastful of course, and many other reasons too, many very important reasons. "Would you like some tea?"
"Tea sounds lovely!" She hummed. "Do you have a cloth I can clean my face with?" She asked softly.
"Absolutely," he answered quickly. "Have you ever tried lavender echinacea tea?" Pierre offered with a little glint of passion in his eyes. A bit of a botanist, oh?
"I have not, are you making it?" She asked looking at him and his excitement. "I'd love to try it."
"Absolutely. I have troves of it. Excellent for the nerves I say," his voice took a delighted lilt and his gait too. Peculiar man.
She smiled softly, but looked around. "The house seems empty. Are there more people that live here or are you alone?" She asked softly.
"I live with my family. My parents and brother," he shrugged, "Parents are out right now and Julian is out and about, so, we have some peace and quiet," he laughed. And some time not being ridiculed.
"That makes sense, my father and mother use to go out all the time." She nodded having a curl fall in her face.
He led her to the living room out of the foyer. The place was very homely, very warm, windows open to let in the summer air and such. The fireplace lay clean and dormant for the summer. "Make yourself at home Ms. Clara, I'll have beverages and food out swiftly," he told her, and disappeared round the corner.