Gilby and Caillen gave one another a conspiratorial sideways glance. Then Caillen replied, “Did me brither show ye his wound when ye and he were so closely closeted for so long yesterday?”
Emer admitted he had not.
Caillen gave another chuckle, “Well, I saw both the wound and how he received itandhad words with the physician after he dressed it. Believe me, Emer, yer pity is wasted.”
Reluctant to say ‘why’ again, Emer simply tilted her head to one side with a quizzing expression on her face.
Caillen warmed to his theme.
“Gawain rode on ahead of the party, even to the point of outpacing the whippers and the hounds,”
Emer was startled to hear this. It was unheard of for a horseman to override the hounds. Her father had loathed the damage a fox could do to his hencoops overnight and had explained the sport of foxhunting to her in great detail.
“Aye,” Caillen said grimly when he saw the comprehension in her face, “but he wasnae too far ahead for me to see what happened. I saw the arrow come over the treetops, as clear as anything, and it came in a high arc, nae straight across.”
Gilby added his input to the conversation, “If the arrow had been from an assassin, miss, it would have come in a straight line, good and true. If a shot is made up in the sky, so as the arrow falls to earth in an arc, there is nae malice or murder behind the hit. Likely, it was some bowman trying to get at the fox before we did.”
Caillen nodded in agreement, “I couldnae have put it better meself, Gilby. And the wound attests to it. There was nae forged barb at the end of the arrow, so I was able to pull the sharpened stick out by the shaft, as easy as anything. The arrow was spent by the time it reached its mark and didnae go in any deeper than I could gauge with the tip o’ me little finger.”
“The physician simply poured a mug of whisky over the wound and slapped on a bandage!” Gilby said, and both men roared with laughter.
Emer felt relief knowing that Gawain’s doubts could be laid to rest when it came to the attempt on his life, but there were so many other loose ends needing to be tied up before she could set her own mind at ease.
“What is the guard at his door for then?” she asked.
“He demanded it, and who am I to begrudge me wee brither the excitement of thinking someone is trying to kill him? He has lived such a sheltered life up here in the welcoming Highlands, he cannae tell the difference between an honest mistake and a deliberate attempt at murder.”
Emer could not help herself from saying, “Och andyewould, of course?”
Gilby opened up his mouth to reply, but Caillen held up his hand to silence him.
“Let us hope that nae one is ever given a chance to ken, lass,” Caillen said blithely, “Now, let’s go talk about those wall hangings.”
“But...but, I have nae finished cleaning yet,” Emer stuttered.
Caillen gave a careless wave of his hand, “Tomorrow is another day. It can wait.”
He ushered her out with a compelling hand in the small of her back.
Whenever I’m with Caillen, I feel as though I’m caught up in a storm of fluctuating emotions-and I dinnae mean just the ones from me! First, he blows hot, and then he blows cold, and then he acts as though a conversation dinnae even happen. I’ve never met such a mercurial man.
Emer did not want to admit to herself she had not met many men in her life at all. Now, with Davinia not talking to her anymore, their plans to meet eligible young men at the nearest assembly or fair had fallen to the wayside. Strangely enough, she did not feel too sorrowful about that. She was yet young and still held out hope of meeting the man from the dark room.
When she closed her eyes at night, she could feel that first kiss burning through her like liquid fire as though it was happening to her all over again, setting parts of her body alight in ways she never knew were possible. The feel of the silken, trimmed beard lightly pricking her skin and lips, the memory of it would make her shiver with suppressed delight and curl her toes tight under the bedcovers.
“Here’s where I plan on putting the withdrawing room,” Caillen broke into Emer’s thoughts, and she gave a little jump, hoping she had not been staring at Caillen’s beard, strong jawline, and firm mouth in an inappropriate manner.
“Um, aye, so ye’re turning the auld Place of Arms into a withdrawing room, are ye? There must have been more soldiers than a man could shake a stick at living here at one time, from the size of this room.”
“Aye,” Caillen said conversationally, linking her arm through his as they strolled from one side of the room to the other, “We Maclachlan’s were ever a war-like bunch, and that’s another thing I plan on changing around here, besides the decor.”
Emer was very aware of her hand resting on Caillen’s forearm. It felt strong and muscular under her light grip. Slightly unsettled by their proximity, she started to withdraw her hand. He stopped her from doing so by grabbing her fingers as they slid out from the crook of his elbow.
“Oh, nay ye dinnae. I’m nae having ye fall over one o’ these stepladders or knocking yer head on the mantelshelf,” he said, holding her hand where it was.
Emer blushed. Gawain had obviously found the time to tell his brother about her accident in his bedchamber. She kept her hand lightly resting on Caillen’s arm and had to admit to herself it did feel a lot safer walking around the uneven flagstones like that.
“I’m pleased ye predict less need for soldiers and more need for elegant rooms where ye can welcome visitors, me Laird,” was all she said.
