Caillen beat a hasty retreat back to the castle before his embarrassment became too obvious to the captain, shouting over his shoulder, “Nay, I dinnae think we should concern ourselves too closely with that. Seem like innocent questions to me!”
Chapter Eleven
It seemed to Emer the only time she got to speak with her sister now was when they were getting ready for bed. It was something they still did at the same time because once Emer had finished with her duties for Caillen, she would go back to the kitchen and assist Davinia with all her chores there until they were finished. Even though Mistress Burroughs found it very strange a maid would look for more work after completing her own, she obeyed his Lairdship’s orders and allowed Emer to do whatever she pleased.
This evening, Davinia seemed chattier than usual, “Thank ye for peeling those blessed turnips for me, Em,” she said as the two girls waited their turns at the washstand. It was Emer’s turn to go first.
Her eyes full of suds, Emer said, “I’m happy to help out where I can, Davi,” and then splashed her face with water and felt for the washcloth her sister was holding out for her to dry her skin.
Davinia took her place at the basin, and then it was Emer’s turn to ask her sister a few questions that had been bothering her, “Why d’ye nae use me soap and salves, Davi? Ye used to love sharing them back at home...,”
Davinia, scrubbed behind her neck with her fingers, said, “I ken! I loved yer scents and still do. The problem is when I use yer latest creations, me skin breaks out in the most tiresome lumps. I have nae idea why. They go away the minute I stop using the soap on me skin.”
Emer patted her sister’s shoulder, “It does indeed happen that way sometimes. What makes one woman adore a particular odor and include in all her pomanders will make another one sneeze most wretchedly. When I next have time, I will go to the woods and fields and choose ye another fragrance. This time I promise it will soothe yer skin.”
Davinia patted her face with her washcloth, “I doubt if ye’ll ever have time to do it. Between the kitchen and yer fancy Laird’s demands, ye keep yerself pretty busy!”
Emer laughed. “Speaking of that, Davi, when ye asked me to make those pies for ye the other day-ye disappeared for quite a while. I was wondering to where ye went?”
Davinia blushed and went to hang her washcloth over the back of one of the chairs. She seemed to be weighing up what she should tell her sister, or even if she should say anything at all.
“Um..., Em, the thing is, I have the same kind of arrangement as ye do with the Laird..., only...,”
Emer felt her heart sink. Was Davinia about to tell her she had become some man’s wench? She had to set her sister straight!
“I’ll have ye ken, Davi, that me ‘arrangement’ with his Lairdship is a completely natural one. I clean and sew and remove the plates from his table! Whatever did ye think?”
Davinia chuckled, “Dinnae fly into the boughs! I meant the same thing ye do. I clean someone’s bedchamber for them because they dinnae want unfriendly eyes on their belongings.”
Emer was intrigued, “For whom?”
Davinia blushed rosily and replied in a soft voice, “For Gawain...”
Emer did not react in the way her sister expected her to. She already had a fairly good idea about Davinia’s feelings for Gawain, and she knew her sister would jump at the chance to get closer to Laird Maclachlan’s brother in any way she could.
All she said out loud was, “And when did this cozy wee arrangement start, Davi? Is that why I’ve seen ye wreathed in smiles lately? Are ye hoping cleaning Gawain’s bedchamber brings ye a bit closer to him?”
The words were said kindly, and Davinia felt comforted enough to open her heart.
“I ken it’s a hopeless wish, Em, but he’s so handsome, and with such winning ways, I cannae help meself from havin’ feelings for Gawain.”
“Ye must nae say such things, Davi,” Emer said sternly, “the Wylie’s family tree is quite an impressive one. Great grandfaither on our faither’s side was a laird of great renown, with an illustrious clan of his own. Every Highlander kens it can take only one or two generations of clan fighting for a once-great family to fall. It does nae mean their names mean any less than those names who rise to take their place.”
Davinia sighed, “I hear ye, Em, but I doubt I’ll ever be given the opportunity to sit down with Gawain and tell him so. He seems happy just to pay me extra to clean his room and return the key to him afterward.”
“For how long have ye been doing this?” Emer was curious as to why Gawain thought the spy would be interested in his bedchamber. Caillen had issued strict instructions for all clan business to be done through him.
“He asked me when his brother returned,” Davinia said, plumping up her pillows and bolster, readying them for sleep, “he said with all this spying and eavesdropping going on, he wanted his possessions and correspondence to be just as safe as his brither’s. Besides,” and here Davinia gave a small smile, “I think he trusts me fully as much as Caillen trusts ye-and that can only be a good thing if it is as ye say..., I mean the part about the Wylies being as well-bred as the Maclachlan clan..., who kens where it could lead to.”
Emer lay down on her bed and thought about what her sister had told her. It made no sense that Caillen would take such precautions to seal up his own rooms and allows the other important members of the household to leave theirs open. And yet, she had no doubt a need for secrecy was what had prompted Gawain to approach her sister and ask her for the same understanding as his brother had with her.
Who knew where it could lead to?? Just as Davinia had said. Even if Gawain had no important documents in his bedchamber, it could only signify his trust and admiration of her sister when he chose her to do it.
But then why did Gawain not request for Davina to be moved to the upstairs staff? It would make his special request for her to clean his locked room and then return the key to him less conspicuous. However, he was paying her extra for the work, so that was an encouraging sign in itself.
Davinia’s tired voice said from underneath her coverlet, “Dinnae tell anyone I do Gawain’s rooms for him, please, Em. He said it might lead to folks doubting me virtue, and then he said that would ruin me chances for making a good match for meself. He tells Mistress Burroughs his manservant does it and then gives the man off on the days I clean, but his valet is so lazy I’m sure it would make nae difference if he was there or nae. But the way Gawain cares shows me he’s concerned about me good name, which is such a kind, considerate point for him to make.”
“Hm,” Emer said, her thoughts beginning to jumble together as she drifted off to sleep.
