“I’ll give them time to make themselves presentable,” he said out loud to no one in particular, “they’ve been running away from their love for each other for so long, they must be exhausted.”
And the valet went back to sleep with a grin on his face.
* * *
Gilby was right. The sun had already crested the hills and begun making its way toward noon before Caillen and Emer left the bedchamber. They had woken earlier but, the moment their eyes met, they began kissing and whispering endearments, and one thing had led to another. Emer could not imagine a future when she would not find waking up in Caillen’s arms the most erotic experience of her life.
As they helped each other dress, Caillen said, “Yer hair’s chestnut and russet again in the sunlight.”
Emer was seated at the dresser in front of the mirror, trying to make her tousled ringlets presentable and pin them to the top of her head. She did not turn around when he said this, as she could see him standing in the middle of the room behind her, wearing his trews and searching the floor with his eyes for his belt.
“What do ye mean, Cai?” she asked, her head tilted curiously to one side, “Me hair is brown, a very ordinary color. I dinnae ken where ye’re getting all these spicy hues from.”
“Ye dinnae carry a looking glass around with ye everywhere, Emer, so ye cannae see how glorious yer hair becomes the minute it reflects the sun’s rays. But in the dark, it turns black as pitch. ‘Tis a most interesting phenomenon – like having two different betrothed.”
When he said this, Emer whipped her head around, making her curls tumble down and spiral down her back.
“Betrothed!” she said the word once, too scared to say it twice in case she jinxed it.
Caillen, having found his belt and begun threading it around his trews, said calmly, “Aye, we have to get married now, Em, or else the kirk will chase us all the way to Newcastle.”
She threw her hairbrush at him playfully, but with enough force for it to whiz past his legs and skitter across the rug, “Dinnae make fun, Cai,” she shouted. However, she could not keep the laughter out of her voice, “I’m serious!”
He gave her one of his most charming smiles as he shrugged on his shirt, “So am I! We’re in love, we are both unattached, what more is there to be said?”
Emer stuttered, “But...but, Davinia is eldest and should be wed first. I was here to sell our land to make her a dowry. I have hopes she might meet a nice farmer when we go to the fair at Lachlainn...”
Caillen agreed, “Aye, lass, that’s all very noble o’ ye, but unfortunately, love does nae always run according to plan. We beat her to the post - maybe not as far as selfless adoration is concerned, but most definitely as far as true love goes,” he bent to pick up her brush and brought it to her at the dresser.
Emer dithered a bit before accepting the hairbrush Caillen was holding out to her and went back to pinning up her hair.
“So, ye ken about me sister’s passion for yer brither?”
Caillen nodded when he saw she had her eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror, “Aye, I’m used to it by now and can spot it from a mile away. Gawain has never met a maiden – or a maid, for that matter – who has not fallen for his charming manners, good looks, and elegant clothing. It began even before we left for our studies. The ladies sigh over his beautiful blue eyes and brunette curls. One besotted lady compared him to a Renaissance prince or painting of an angel. I teased him mercilessly when I found that love note; ye can bet yer life on it!”
“Hmph...” was all Emer said in reply to this.
Caillen sat down on the bed to pull on his boots, “Ye dinnae think him handsome?” He watched Emer as she wrinkled her nose, shrugged her shoulders, and firmly shook her head.
“As a woman, ye might just be alone with that assessment. I hope Gawain does nae ken ye find him repugnant because it will drive him to madness. He hates it when a woman turns him down or when she’s immune to his many attractions.”
“Typical younger son,” Emer huffed, too soft for Caillen to hear her say it as he splashed his face at the washstand. Despite her poor opinion of Gawain, she was still reluctant to cause trouble between the brothers.
She gave her reflection one last critical look in the mirror and then stood up. Caillen went to the dresser, did not bother to sit down, simply bending to stare at his face quickly, smoothing his beard and flattening his hair as best he could with his hands. Then he withdrew a thin piece of braided leather from his pocket and wrapped it around his shoulder-length hair until it was once more tightly knotted at the nape of his neck in a practical bundle of leather braid.
Emer stared lovingly at him while he did this.
Typical Caillen – nae too busy in the morning to spend time making love and whispering sweet nothings in me ear, but in too much of a rush to brush his hair into shining locks. I’ve never met two brithers less similar than Cai and Gawain.
This reminded her of something.
“Cai, please dinnae say anything about our betrothal, at least, nae just yet. Y’see, I really need to stay here for a few more hours,” she looked down at her hands, aware her eyes were filling up with tears at the thought of what she had to do, “I want to find the best buyer for our fields and the plot of land where stands the farmhouse ruin.”
She saw him open his mouth the say something but put up her hand to stop him, “Nay, Caillen, ye cannae offer to buy the fields and land for us! I want a bit of money to call me own before I announce to the world I’m marryin’ ye – or else the clan will think me desperate or, even worse, penniless. After all is said an’ done, Cai, I’m a maid, and ye’re a Laird – rumors are going to fly!”
“Let ‘em,” Caillen said with a casual shrug, “I care nae.”
“That’sexactlythe kind of thing a Laird would say,” Emer countered, “But, besides all that, Davi still needs her dowry.”
