Emer nodded. Her mouth was full of the juicy fruit, and she was enjoying it when they burst open every time she bit on them.
“Tell me more about yer farm,” Caillen asked after they had finished their dinner, “what was the village ye come from again?”
Emer looked downcast but realized she could not put off the subject of the farm fire forever, “Our farmhouse was by Nethy, a village halfway up the foothills of the Cairngorms. ‘Twas indeed too cold in winters for only but the hardiest of fruit trees.”
“Where did ye grow yer crops?” Caillen wanted to know everything about mountain life. The Highlands were a rough land, with many different environments within it.
“Me Mither and Faither lived in the village itself, but our fields were further down the mountainside-where they would be protected from the winds and floods.”
“I’m guessing yer water well was nae full enough to douse the fire, what with yer fields and crops taking the lion’s share of all the water,” Caillen stated in a practical manner.
Emer screwed up her eyes tightly to stop the tears that wanted to pour down her cheeks, “Ye speak the truth, of that I’m sure, me Laird, but that does nae take away the fact that me sister and I are orphans, with nae dowry or portion for our marriages, nor faither to give away the bride or mither to sew us a bridal gown!”
Caillen instantly felt regret at not approaching the subject with more delicacy. He reached over the table and took Emer’s hand, holding it gently.
“Forgive me, lass, the many years at sea have taken away me courtly manners, such little as I had before. Were there nae men left in the village to harvest the crops? Are the fields left to ruin now?”
Emer could hold the tears back no longer, but she managed to nod.
The Laird and maid sat in the quiet morning room together. Caillen did not remove his hand, and nor did Emer withdraw her hand from underneath his. She allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks, and Caillen patted her small hand until she had dried her eyes with the corner of the kerchief fichu wrapped around her shoulders.
Suddenly aware of the inappropriate nature of the scenario, Emer jumped up from the table, hastily tucking her kerchief into her skirt pocket, “Losh! Mistress Burroughs will be wondering where I have been for the last hour. ‘Twill be cheeky of me to make her wait. Th-thank ye for yer kindness, me Laird, but I must fly.”
Understair servants’ skirts were shorter than those the upstairs maids wore. Too busy tucking her kerchief away, Emer did not see a rise in the carpet hidden by her full skirt. Her foot caught the edge of it, and she fell.
Before she even had time to hold her hands out in front of her to break the fall, Caillen had caught her in his arms. She was able to stand up straight again and turned to thank him once more.
Their faces were inches apart, and when Emer opened her mouth to speak her gratefulness, the words seemed to die away before she could say them. Caillen had his arms wrapped around her waist, and he seemed in no hurry to let her go. Strange to say, but Emer did not seem to mind their sudden proximity at all. Maybe the night of the feast, kissing that stranger so passionately had changed her more than she thought. She had to admit the feeling of Caillen’s hands holding her waist so tightly was more than reassuring-, possibly even enjoyable.
Even if Emer wanted to struggle and break free or attempt to push Caillen a bit further away, she would have found it difficult.
Caillen felt as though this maiden belonged in his arms from the minute he had caught her. When she straightened up and drew herself closer to him, a wave of attraction and memory hit him like a bolt of lightning. Emer had removed the kerchief tied so demurely around her shoulders to wipe her eyes. It had left the top of her breasts, shoulders, and neck temptingly exposed. Caillen had to fight back an overwhelming instinct; he suddenly had to press hot kisses of desire on her skin. The delicate perfume her skin exuded was redolent of the rampant craving he had felt on the night of the feast when he had held that enchanting mystery woman in his arms for a few heavenly minutes.
Caillen knew right then that Emer was the lass he had kissed in the upstairs bedchamber.
Chapter Nine
So close together in this moment and yet miles apart in rank and station. How strange life can be.
Emer quickly realized how inappropriate anyone would think it was, finding the two of them in such a position if they happened to come into the room right now. As warm and comforting, she found it to be in Caillen’s arms, she rushed to disentangle herself and leave.
“Forgive me clumsiness, Cai-I mean-me Laird,” she stuttered, hugely embarrassed for her fall and her slip up in nearly calling him by his name, “I will see ye anon...I mean, I must go an’ tidy yer bedchamber.”
The hotter and more flushed Emer became, the stronger the beautiful scent of her skin filled the room. As he sat back down, it was all Caillen could do not to drag her onto his lap and run his hands over her slender body, inhaling the thick, dark ringlets of her hair and begging her to not leave-to stay with him a while until he had satisfied every one of his senses with her next to him.
Taking Caillen’s silence for any number of negative emotions, Emer curtsied herself out of the room and ran to his bedchamber to do what she said she would do when she was held captive in his arms. She found a middle-aged man in the bedchamber and stopped at the doorway in surprise.
“Beggin’ yer pardon. I dinnae ken ye were here, Mister...,”
The man grinned, “Och, lass, dinnae worry yer sweet head about disturbing me. Me name’s plain ‘Gilby,’ so we’ll have none o’ this ‘Mister’ nonsense between ourselves, shall we? I’m his Lairdship’s valet, manservant, general factotum. Call the position I hold whatever ye will,” the man walked to the door, stepped behind her, and preceded to leave, saying,
“I ken I can leave the room safe in yer hands, lass. I’m sure Master Caillen will have told ye nae to allow anyone else inside. I’ll be gone an hour. Seems like Cai forgot to tell someone to bring up me dinner! It’s nae like him to be distracted, but he’s under a lot o’ pressure to find out who’s behind all this spyin’.”
Emer set to work, dusting and polishing the wainscoting, shaking out the feather pillows, and turning over the bolster to keep it plump and even. It was as though her body was functioning unconsciously while her mind was busy turning cartwheels over what had happened between her and the Laird in the morning room at dinner time.
I have nae idea as to why his Lairdship is determined to show me such kindness and understanding, especially after the mean things I said in the kitchen. I have worked out that he was simply pretending to be a pompous popinjay on the night of the feast when he heard me say those words, but how he behaves now is beyond me comprehension...
Emer was honest enough to know she did not have the experience to gauge the subtle changes happening between Caillen and herself. As she beat the curtains to rid them of dust and went to the window to empty Caillen’s washstand water, a dawning understanding came to her.
