Chapter 13
Despite the way Dev had set her so abruptly back on her heels at the graveyard, Robina thought that, for once, she had managed him deftly.
Or perhaps Rosalie was right and he did think she looked too much like Rab and was unfeminine.
However, she decided with an inner sigh, Dev ought to be satisfied now that she had revealed the secret he’d suspected her of keeping. That would benefit Benjy, too.
Dev let her dwell in that happy state until they returned and went inside. Assuming that he’d go into the hall or the inner chamber, and meaning to go to her bedchamber, Robina gave him her sunniest smile.
“Thank you for a pleasant afternoon, sir,” she said. “I hope you enjoyed it, too.”
“I did,” he replied evenly, but the flintlike look had returned to his eyes.
“I… I mean to order a bath,” she said. “I must wash my hair, too. It takes a long time to dry and longer for Corinne to arrange it to Cousin Rosalie’s liking.”
“That is one thing I’d like to discuss,” he said in a more affable tone.
“Prithee, not now, and not in that wee room again.”
“I agree that that room is too small,” he said. “Also, someone might interrupt us there. We’ll talk in the inner chamber.”
His tone remained affable, but the look in his eyes daunted her. Much as she’d have liked to defy him, she knew she’d be wiser to submit. She had held her own with him before. She could do so again.
The trestle tables were already up in the lower hall. The dais was empty, but someone had begun laying the high table for supper. Dev stepped ahead of her to open the inner-chamber door, followed her inside, and shut it.
Taking matters into her own hands, Robina turned to him and said, “Did I understand you correctly, sir? You want to discuss my hair?”
“Among other things,” he said.
“You said that, aye. But I must tell you that I’ve received so much unwanted advice about my hair and my clothes, and my behavior, that I’m likely to fly out at the next person to criticize me, even you.”
“I’m just curious to know what has stirred you to such a pitch that you seem to be changing everything about yourself.”
“Faith, as if you were not one who said—more than once, I believe—that I must learn to be more femin… that is, to behave more like a lady!”
“Behavior is one thing, Robby. Attire and hair arrangements are other matters. Did Rosalie persuade you into all those plaits looped about your ears today?”
“ ’Twas Janet first, with my plaits twisted into a crown, which I could not bear,” she said grimly.
“Then Rosalie told Corinne that we should try twisting them at my nape instead. That was better, but today she asked Corinne to do it this way. She said I should wear a veil, too, but I don’t like to wear things on my head. ”
“Then don’t,” he said, as if it were that easy. “Do you hate all the garments that Rosalie is having the Hawick seamstress make for you, too?”
“I like the clothes better than what they’ve done to my hair,” she admitted.
“Rosalie gave me some lovely saffron-colored silk that Mistress Geddes is making into a gown much like a kirtle, although it is to fasten behind. The bodice will have fancywork, and its sleeves will have silk-covered buttons. Rosalie assures me that the dress will suit any formal occasion, although I don’t know when I’ll attend one. ”
“Beltane is coming,” he reminded her. “Things are not all so bad, then.”
“I’d liefer not complain, but I’ll tell you how it has been,” she said.
“Sithee, I don’t know what is fashionable and what is not, so I feel as if I must listen to everyone and try to please everybody except myself.
I try to follow Rosalie’s advice, especially.
But when I look in a mirror, I don’t see me anymore. ”
Dev bit his lower lip, and his eyes gleamed suddenly with humor.
“What?” she demanded, feeling her temper awaken despite her relief that the hard look had left his eyes.
“You are laughing at me again, Dev, and I won’t have it.
All these plaits feel as if imps are pulling my hair all day.
Rosalie said I’d get used to it and that I must accustom myself to dressing like a lady. Corinne says—”
“Never mind what they say,” Dev interjected.
“Ignore them, Robby. They are all daft, even Janet. You were perfect as you were, even in those damned breeks and that too-big-for-you leather jack. Why, you are so beautiful that if I were in any position to wed, I’d have asked you to marry me straightaway. ”
“What’s this I hear?” Lady Rosalie exclaimed as she pushed the door open and strode in, beaming at them both.
“Marry! How wonderful! Prithee, forgive me for intruding at such a tender moment, but I could not be more delighted. You are perfectly suited to each other. I own, though, I dared not hope that this could happen until much later on. But this is utterly splendid!”
“Oh, no, Cousin Rosalie!” Robina exclaimed. “It is not what—”
“Not another word!” Rab snarled in her ear, silencing her.
As she stood, agape, Rosalie said, “Blethers, dearling, I heard the man. And, if he wants to marry you straight-away…” She shifted her gaze to Dev, adding, “Surely, you did not propose to her like that only to say that you meant naught by it, sir. I’ve seen how you look at each other whenever you’re in the same room. You were made for each other.”
Fighting to collect his wits and noting that Robby was still agape—as if some powerful force had muted her—and that Tad and another serving lad were peering wide-eyed at him over Rosalie’s shoulder, Dev drew breath and decided on diversionary tactics.
Dismissing the lads with a wave, he said mildly to Rosalie, “Did you have a reason for coming here, madam?”
“I did, aye,” she said, “although I cannot think now what it—I vow, sir, your proposal has muddled my brain. Oh, aye, Greenlaw sought you earlier, but you had not returned from your ride. Evidently, a messenger came here earlier from Ormiston. One of the maidservants told me that she thought she’d seen you come in here, so I meant just to peek in to see if she was right. Then I heard—”
“Is aught amiss at Ormiston?” Dev demanded, knowing she might chatter on until she ran out of breath.
“Nay, for the messenger rode on to Hawick. He came only to tell us your father will arrive on Friday. He’ll be delighted to learn of your betrothal, I’m sure, so we could plan the wedding for Saturday.
’Tis the eve of Beltane, when new home fires are lit, so ’tis the ideal time for a wedding.
Buccleuch has a new priest, too. Since Coklaw lacks one, and since I must send word of your betrothal to Scott’s Hall, perhaps you would like… ”
She paused then, eyeing Dev hopefully, but he was still collecting his wits.
Her twin having fallen silent after his outburst, and Dev now silent himself, Robina said, “By my troth, Cousin Rosalie, I do not see how you—”
“Don’t quibble, lass,” Dev said quietly.
“I did give her cause. But, my lady,” he added, facing Rosalie, “I think you inferred more than either of us meant to say. In any event, you will agree that Robina and I have much to discuss. I’d be obliged if you would put off sending word of any kind to the Hall or elsewhere until we have talked again. ”
Rosalie frowned but said, “I’ll leave you two to talk. But you must realize, sir, that if what I heard was not what you meant to say, you have no business being alone with her. I suspect it’s not the first time you’ve taken advantage this way, either. Do you deny that?”
“No, madam.”
Robina stifled a gasp, fearing that he might try to explain why he had been privy with her at other times. But he said no more.
Rosalie nodded. “I’ll leave you alone then, but I suggest that you talk quickly. People are gathering in the hall for supper, and when they see the pair of you emerge together, they will talk.”
Robina watched her go and waited until the door shut behind her before she said, “She’ll send Ned Graham to tell Lady Meg, Dev. I feel sure of it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dev said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “To think that I feared we might be overheard in the wee room and thought no one would hear us in here. Robby, two of the serving lads were right behind her.”
“Do you think she did it purposefully?”
He grimaced. “I’ll admit that I’d like to think so. It would make me feel less of a dolt. But I’ve seen enough of Rosalie to know that she says what she thinks and is not one who listens at doors. She is impulsive enough to draw a conclusion and act on it without due reflection, though.”
“Then what are we to do?”
“I’ll do whatever you want to do, lass,” he said in that same quiet way. He looked steadily into her eyes, as if he expected to see her thoughts.
The look warmed her but also made her nervous. She said, “I cannot make that decision, Dev. I know you don’t want to marry me or anyone else.”
“It would save me from Anne Kerr,” he said lightly.
“What has Anne Kerr to do with this?”
“My lord father hoped to announce our betrothal in a sennight or so,” he said. “He invited the Kerrs to celebrate Beltane with us and was kind enough to tell me of his plan after he summoned me home.”
Robina felt as if her heart had stopped. She could barely draw a breath but managed to say, “But are you betrothed? Why did you not tell me?”
“We are not betrothed, nor had I any intention to be,” Dev said. “In troth, I think Father had gone off the notion himself before I left for Scott’s Hall. He’d already issued the invitation, though, so Kerr might be expecting a betrothal. I suggested that my brother Lucas might suit Anne better.”
A gurgle of laughter escaped her. “You didn’t!”
“I did. The lady Anne is much too staid and cheerless for me.”
“Even so, you do not want to marry anyone else, aye?”
“We can discuss that later,” he said. “The one thing Rosalie said that is true, thanks to her declaration and the two lads who heard it, is that people will talk.”