Then, after allowing the gorgeously soft, lacy fabric to ripple over her skin as she put it on, Emer finished dressing and went downstairs.
It was time to speak to Gawain.
* * *
Emer had to wait until nearly dinner time before she was able to catch Gawain alone in his chambers.
The sun had almost reached its zenith before Gawain’s manservant, Campbell, indolently opened the dressing room door to invite her in. Emer had to bite back the scathing words she wanted to say to Gawain when she was finally allowed to approach him. He was, after all, the son of a Laird.
He was reclining on his favorite chaise, patting his lips with a napkin after eating a bowl of summer ripened raspberries, and beckoned her closer with one careless white hand.
“I’m glad ye’re here without me having to summon ye. What news do ye have for me? It better be useful information, mind ye, or else I will be forced to think ye’re nae putting all yer effort into it,” Gawain said, screwing his napkin into a crumpled ball and flinging it at her feet.
Emer used her new full skirts to hide the fact her hands were forming tight fists on either side of her. Yet, despite her anger, she was fascinated with how Gawain’s moods and way of speaking seemed to come and go on a whim.
One minute it’s ‘sweet Emer’ and the next it’s ‘put all yer effort into it’ – even when there’s nae mention of who will benefit the most out of all o’ this.
Doing a good job of hiding her scorn, Emer bobbed a curtsey, saying, “Ye’ll be glad to hear this is me last visit to ye then if ye have a suspicion I’m nae working hard enough.”
Gawain sat upright, “What d’ye mean yer ‘last visit’? Have ye discovered something worthwhile? I will be so happy and pleased with ye if ye have, dear Emer. I had quite given up hope of ye proving me right. Remember,anylittle detail or conversation ye might have overheard, nae matter how insignificant ye think it is, could help me.”
Emer moved over to where Gawain reclined on the chaise and took a seat on the small stool beside it. She had to remove the empty bowl that had contained the raspberries first. Gawain seemed a bit taken back by her casual attitude, but Emer knew she was safe from him taking umbrage at her actions while he believed her to have useful information.
“Remind me again why ye want me to spy on yer brither, please, sir?” Emer wanted to see if Gawain was able to keep track of all the blandishments he uttered.
Rather surprised by how Emer had taken charge of the conversation, but desperate to find out what she had to tell him, Gawain looked at the ceiling as he tried to recall his words,
“Erm, erm..., I showed ye the letter..., after the attack,” Gawain screwed his eyes shut to better remember, “it revealed a conspiracy. I asked ye to follow me brither at every chance ye had to find out where he gets his gold and what he’s up to, generally speaking..., I think that’s it. Now tell me what ye have found out!”
Emer was not convinced, “Where did ye find the letter again?”
Gawain froze. His face was easier to read than he realized. One part showed his impatience to get the latest news Emer said she had for him, and the other part of his face showed a desperate blank where the obviously false memory should be.
Nothing daunted, Gawain decided to take a chance, “I must have found it in one of his coat pockets or something, what it nae something like that? It was so long ago that I disremember.”
This time, Emer did not even bother keeping the scorn out of her voice, “So long ago?!” Ye’re saying ye cannae recall where ye found one of the most important letters of yer life-so important ye were willing to ask a housemaid to spy on yer brither?”
Gawain turned on the charm again, “Truly, Emer sweetheart, I cannae remember. I suffered the deepest shock after being pierced by the arrow! That silly medicine ye gave addled me brains. It’s actually yer fault I cannae think straight.”
Emer stood up from the stool and looked down on Gawain as he lay there on the chaise, blinking his angelic blue eyes and licking his lips, a furtive half-smile on his face.
“Caillen Maclachlan is a kind and helpful man, sir. The only thing I have to report is his unceasing efforts to better the clan and improve the Highlands as much as he can. He likes to crack a joke and is very fond of teasing, but if those are crimes, then I have yet to hear about it.”
Emer stopped to take a deep breath after her outburst and then continued, “This is why ye will nae be asking me to spy on him again, and why I will refuse to do it even if ye did!”
Gawain jerked upright, “Are ye telling me ye have nae proper news whatsoever? What about his frequent communications with the ports? What’s all that? What do those letters say an’ where is he hiding the gold? Ye have to keep digging, girl, until ye have something I can use. Surely ye can see he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing?”
Emer wondered if Gawain tended to only hear what he wanted to hear, and then she remembered her speculation Gawain had maybe grown up never knowing what it was like for someone to say the word ‘nay’ to him.
I have a feeling it’s Gawain who’s the wolf...in lamb’s clothing.
“Yer brither’s nae some evil Machiavellian puppet master, sir,” she sighed, “he’s a good man who has only the good of the castle keep in mind. Please stop yer ceaseless prying-ye will nae find anything: from me or from anyone else.”
She turned to leave through the dressing room door, just as she always did. But this time, things were different. This time a miraculously agile Gawain had leapt off the chaise and was there to block her way.
“Nay so fast, wench!” he snarled.
Emer was too shocked by Gawain’s unexpected energy to feel fear at first. But then he slammed his hand against the doorpost, his outstretched arm speeding past her face to stop her leaving, and nearly taking her nose off in the process. Emer gasped instinctively and felt the bridge of her nose to see if his hand had marked it when his fingers skimmed over the tip.
