"Would ye let me speak?" Gawain opened his mouth to say something, but Davinia beat him to it. “Thank ye fer the ribbon, it really means a lot to me. I’ll treasure it fer as long as I live, but I do nae understand why ye gave it to me, which is why I’m nae wearing it."
"I gave it to ye because ye deserve it. Ye told me yer ribbons were old, and I got ye one. I would have gotten more, but...things happened."
"That doesnae answer me question, Gawain." She stepped up to him, determined to get her answers. “Why did ye give me the ribbon? Why did ye try to kiss me? Are ye in search of a mistress? Do ye need a woman to warm yer bed during yer stay here because if that is it, then I’m afraid, I cannot accept yer ribbon."
Gawain watched her without a word. He couldn't understand why she was conflicted. He had given her the ribbon to express a small fraction of the appreciation he had for her. Yes, she very much interested him, and he felt he had at least hinted in that direction. If he wanted a mistress, he would have taken one or more during his travels, but no one ever came up to him. Or it was him not noticing them.
He didn’t blame her for being confused. He wasn’t sure of what love really was. All he knew was that he felt differently about her than with Flora. For him at the time, he had deluded himself into believing he felt love for Flora. He resisted the arrangement at first, but after his father talked him into it, saying he had to love her because “a man needs a wife”. His love for Flora was forced, born out of the urge to please his father and his clan.
"I do nae ken what ye might have heard or cooked up, Davinia but I assure ye," He slipped out the ribbon in her apron pocket while his other hand loosened her hair from the old ribbon. "I’m nae here to play with yer heart. All me intentions toward the clan, mostly ye, are all pure. I’ve no reason to deceive or hurt ye." He combed his fingers through her thick locks, letting it fall behind her before bringing the ribbon to tie her hair. "Ye should ken me much better than most people here. Even more than me brother. Ye should ken when I’m serious and when I lie."
Davinia shook her head, his hands moved from her hair to cup her face, his thumb running over the red on her cheek. "But ye’ve been gone fer so long. ‘Tis only normal if I feel skeptical about all of this. Ye have only ever shown interest in Lady Flora. I do nae hold a candle next to her, so it’ll be a wee difficult fer me to believe that I suddenly interest ye."
"Flora was someone I thought I loved. I did have strong feelings fer her and I thought that it must be love. But all that all in the past. Now I ken that I only wanted her so I could be in a better position to lead the clan.” He paused slightly and let his eyes rest on her lips. “You, I’ve always felt different about. I wanted to be around ye even when it served no purpose except to see you smile. I don’t ken much about love, but I ken that the sight of you warms me innards."
Once again, Gawain stepped closer to her, tilting his head as he leaned closer to her. He paused, waiting for her to flee like she had done instead her eyes had fluttered close, and her face had inches toward his, their lips only a breath away. Just as he could feel her warm breath flow out of her heaving chest to rest on his beard, they both jerked back at an unwanted presence, red hue all the way to their necks.
The interruption came in the form of a maid yelling on top of her lungs in search of her housekeep. The girl paused at the sight of the embarrassed two before a blush of her own slowly crept unto her face. All she could manage was a squeak of an apology before she dashed off.
Gawain pulled himself off Davinia, who kept her gaze at her feet. "I should let ye get back to yer duties. Will I be seeing ye tonight? At the festivities?" His reply came as a meek nod.
"Alright then." He stepped aside for her. "Please, do nae keep me waiting."
Chapter Six
Gawain returned to his chambers only to find his brother waiting for him at the entrance. His first instinct was to turn back and go anywhere else until he was sure Caillen had left. As he turned around to set his plan into motion, his brother called for him, slipping in front of him to block his path. "Ignoring me will nae solve anything, Gawain."
"Nae, but it'll prepare me fer when next I’ve to see ye."
"I do nae want to bicker with ye. That's all we've ever done." Caillen straightened himself while his brother regarded him with squinted eyes and a raised brow. “I’ve come to apologize." Gawain bit back a chuckle at his brother's stiffness but failed. "Do nae laugh at me! This is hard enough already."
"‘Tis difficult to take ye seriously during a normal conversation, imagine how hard it is fer me when ye look like ye’ve a stick up yer arse." Gawain's light teasing did not go unnoticed by his brother. Caillen was sure Gawain would be ready to stab him with hateful words, but here he was, joking and even laughing. What had turned his brother's mood around so quickly, he wanted to know.
"Have ye always been this rude, or was it yer travels?"
"That is a wrong question to ask. ‘Tis like asking if ye've always kissed yer own arse or was it after ye became Laird."
"At least ye’re in a better mood. But, Gawain, listen." Caillen bowed his head slightly. “I did nae mean to say all of those nasty things. I sounded just like father, and I ken ye’ve had enough of the man fer many lifetimes. I should have never said the things I said, and fer that, I apologize. I’m truly sorry, brother." Gawain heaved a sigh as his brother straightened himself. “Am I forgiven?"
"Aye. I should also be apologizing. Ye were right to a point. ‘Tis yer clan and ye can rule it as ye wish. I missed me opportunity to rule as yer right hand, which is fine. I realized I was making the same mistake I made all those years ago, and I’ll be glad to accept whatever position ye give to me, brother. It doesnae matter me position as long as the clan thrives as well as it always has." Caillen beamed at his brother's words, spreading his arms expectantly, but Gawain took a few steps back. “Stay away from me, Caillen. Ye smell like the stables."
"That is a lie and ye ken it. Let us patch this up with an embrace, brother."
"Stay away from me. Go away!" Gawain pressed his back to his door, opening it and slipping just as his brother dashed toward him, narrowly missing the embrace while his brother ran face into the wooden door. Gawain bit his fist to control his hysterical laughter as his brother groaned on the other side of the door in pain. Gawain only wished his relationship with the clan would only get better from then on.
* * *
The sky had pulled on its blanket of darkness, a half moon and a spread of stars replacing the lonely sun. The castle was swarmed with people like ants around sugar, never ending chatter and lively music filled Gawain's ears from where he stood resting against a pillar.
He watched the skirts of different colors, tartans of many patterns dance across the stone ground along to the merry band in a far corner of the hall. Tables were filled to the brim with platters and pitchers the Laird had to offer. Of course, there was the occasional sway of skirts in his direction, a giggle, a sweet laugh, a kiss blown in his direction, but that was outweighed by the not so low whispers of his crimes and exile.
He wanted to pelt them with rocks.
But amongst the sophisticated rowdiness, he caught sight of a familiar blue ribbon. The owner seemed to glide over the ground, balancing what she could on a wide tray as she circled the Laird's table. She would smile at her sister as she set down yet another tray before the pregnant lass before she made her way out of the hall. She was busy, but she said she would see him. Gawain was willing to wait.
"Gawain!" Caillen called out for his brother. As he approached the entrance, he could hear the murmurs of the dissatisfied men. On entering, their heads wearily turned to him, prying eyes expecting him to make a misstep.
The Laird waved manically at Gawain, who couldn't suppress the scowl that grew on his face. The laird's table was missing just him, but he refused to sit by his brother. Other than the obvious embarrassment Gawain was going to face in the hands of his drunk brother, Hector was also present. But if Gawain was to be honest with himself, it was the presence of the red-haired woman who was also seated at the long table that made him scurry off in the first place.
