Being so very high up off the ground for the first time in her life gave Emer a strange feeling. From her vaunted perch, she could see so much more of everything but could not help suffering from nerves a bit. She wanted to look around but did not want to risk falling off. As though sensing her anxiety, Caillen wrapped one arm around her waist while keeping his other hand on the reins.
It took a while for Emer to relax enough to enjoy this new feeling. She had not had a man’s arm around her waist since she had attended the village lodge assemblies back in Nethy, and then it had been a light handclasp or the temporary touch of an arm as they spun round in a folk dance. Caillen’s hold was firm enough to make her feel safe, yet so gentle it felt more like an embrace. It was lovely being able to lean back against his broad, muscular chest and look around as they rode down the lane together. The sensation was entirely new, and Emer was ready to admit riding like this with Caillen was a delightful way to spend the day.
“Where are ye taking me?” she asked him, raising her voice so she did not have to turn round.
He did not reply. He gave her a brief, reassuring squeeze around her waist and continued guiding Menzies around the fields of wheat. Mossy stone walls fencing in peaceful grazing sheep lined the meandering pathway; butterflies fluttered and alighted on the daisies.
Emer was content to let him carry her to wherever he wanted. The Highlands were so beautiful when the sun shone, and a fresh breeze blew in from the mountains. There could be no prettier place in the world.
They came to a gently sloping hill. Caillen urged Menzies up the incline, and they left the serene agricultural scene behind them. The wind picked up when they reached the hilltop, and Emer grabbed her bonnet to stop it from pulling at her hair in the breeze.
“How did ye pummel yer bonnet?” Caillen asked her as the horse began to descend the hill on the other side.
“I--I turned the reins into a ditch, and Bessie overrode into the hedgerow,” it was always easier to tell Caillen the truth.
“Dear me,” he said, and by the inflection of his tone, Emer knew his face was grinning, “What an uncomfortable way to spend yer day off.”
She said nothing, but she felt an overwhelming desire to pinch his thigh hard with her fingertips. Fortunately for Caillen’s thigh, Emer was able to suppress the instinct.
They were approaching a glade of trees. It was not a forest or a wood; the trees had been deliberately planted to grow in such a manner pleasing to the eye. The spacing allowed easy progress through the trunks and branches. Bushes had been cut back, and weeds dug out the minute they stuck their heads out of the soil. As Menzies wended through the grove, Emer realized Caillen had brought her to the grotto after all.
She saw the folly in front of them, and Caillen reined in the horse, dismounted, and held out his hands for her to jump into.
“We got here in the end, lass,” he said when he placed her delicately down on the ground.
She spun around, not knowing where to look first. Emer saw they were surrounded by wildflowers and herbs growing in such abundance it made her say, “Oooohhh,” so dumfoundered she was by the natural splendor.
“D’ye like it?” Caillen watched her appreciation with enjoyment, as though he was able to see the grotto and folly through her eyes and feel her excitement, “the gardeners obviously keep the place lookin’ nice – but I doubt a Maclachlan has been up this way since Gawain and I were children.”
“That’s such a pity,” Emer said, walking to the folly and stepping onto the white stone stairs, “it’s the sweetest little structure, more like an ancient ruin than a recent addition to the garden.”
“ ‘Tis nae so recent, lass,” Caillen said, following her up the stairs, “It was built when me faither was in his youth. But a folly and grotto and the like, seem to be the sort of places where children love to play, and lovers love to meet, but everyone else is too busy to take the time to visit them.”
“What a shame,” Emer said, “the beauty of the wildflowers in the grotto with the folly standing in the middle of it all – what a waste no one comes here anymore. I will change that – I promise to come here as often as I can. Then all these flowers and herbs will nae be growing in vain.”
“The beauty is very obvious, now that ye mention it,” Caillen said, but he was looking at Emer when he said this.
She had taken off her bonnet and had shaken her long ringlets free. Her dark hair, caught in the sunlight that shone through the treetops blazed with a riot of color. It was no longer the plain brown color it seemed to be when she walked along the dingy castle corridors; it flamed with a richness and brightness, the sheen from her ringlets shone like gold.
Unaware of Caillen’s admiring scrutiny, Emer got busy creating a perfume for her sister. It would be just the thing to calm the stormy waters between them. Plus, Gawain would have to use Davinia for his spoilt demands in the future, and she was bound to be happy about that.
Caillen moved to a felled tree trunk lying beside the folly and sat down on it while he watched Emer. She used her skirt to help hold the flowers she gathered and made a pretty picture as she tiptoed amidst the bobbing flower heads, bending to sniff and pick as she pleased. He did not worry about the moss and bark staining his kilt. It was the same one he’d worn to the feast, and if he inhaled deeply, he was sure he could detect the faintest trace of lavender on it still.
“Tell me why ye’re selecting those blooms, Emer,” he said, “and I’ll tell ye a Highland tale we have around these parts.”
She looked up and smiled at him so sweetly when he said this, Caillen almost lost his train of thought.
“Ye go first,” she said.
Chapter Nineteen
“Cú Chulainn was an ancient Gaelic hero. Ye ken the type o’ man I’m talking about: tall, dark, handsome, strong. It seems ye couldnae throw a stick in the auld days without hitting a man who fit that description back then!
Everyone was on the lookout for a wife for Cú Chulainn. He being a hero and all, it was only fit and proper that he had a good wife so they could raise a family of wee heroes together.
But the only woman he wanted was Emer.
When he went to woo her, Emer would ask him riddles and then request he tell her one in return. After he had answered all her riddles and given her a few back, she shifted her promise and said she would only see him if he went off and did great deeds. She wanted the man she loved and married to be worthy.
