Bucky & Steve x Reader Oneshot Series

Lords And Ladies ➡ Bucky (AU)

Lord James Buchanan Barnes.

All of the village girls swooned whenever he was mentioned, and many of the upper class women did too. You, however, saw no point in swooning over a man you'd never seen, when there were plenty of decent looking village boys around. Besides, this was 1770. The upper classes and working classes didn't mix en principle; it was the unspoken taboo. Your father was a farrier, the best one around, and appointed as a squire by the elder Lord Barnes, so you had a better upbringing than most girls of your age.
Not that it did you much good. You still ended up helping your father out with the horses, and learning all the skills you'd need to be a housewife from your mother. Today, you were helping with one of the horses that needed breaking in.

The biting cold made you pull your shawl around your shoulders tighter with your free hand, as you gripped the reins in your other hand, coaxing the horse forwards and into the paddock. The leather bit into the already painful skin of your hands, and you looked to your father, who was rubbing his hands together in an attempt to conserve warmth. The horse whinnied shrilly, and in an instant, your father was beside you, helping you maintain a hold of the reins. Today would be an interesting day, at least.
***
The air had lost its wintry bite now, giving way to the warmer weather of spring. The paddock was now graced with primrose and daisies and young clover plants, and breaking in the young horse provided fewer problems. Tempest pranced around the paddock as if on hot coals, straining at the reins and the bit in his mouth.

"T'would hurt less if you didn't strain at it, Tempest. We simply must not let you damage your mouth. You're Lord Barnes' pride and joy. Proper thoroughbred steed, you are." You murmured comfortingly to the horse, as he strained again at the bridle.
He simply nickered shrilly and began his pacing again, before trotting over to you and stealing your bonnet, sending (Y/H/C) locks tumbling down around your face. Pushing your hair back behind your ears, you advanced slowly and carefully. Tempest galloped away to the other side of the paddock gleefully, and you groaned. A man's rich laugh sounded behind you, and you turned to see the amused face of the young Barnes, blue eyes sparkling with merriment.

"My lord." You stuttered demurely, dropping a slight curtsy, your hair tumbling into your face again.

"You shouldn't be in here." He observed, folding his arms over his richly embossed jacket, betraying a slight swell of muscle as he did so.

"I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Lord Barnes, the daughter of the squire? He sent me in today to take his place. He's ill with the influenza, and sends his sincerest apology." You offered meekly, glancing up at him swiftly.

You could see why the village girls adored him so much.

The blue eyes, the dark hair, the smile... He was handsome, and devastatingly so. Still, your knowledge that it would never come to be kept you grounded and we'll within your ranks. Unbeknownst to you, he had heard the village boys talking about you, about your mysterious beauty, and he could understand why you were so favoured by them. But there it was again, the impenetrable barrier, the unspoken evil between you. He maintained his lordly manner, watching as you calmed his tempestuous horse.

"When will he be ready to ride?"

"By the end of this month, Lord Barnes."

He had to figure out how to get you to stay, to unravel the enigma that was you.

And he had an a idea.
*****