Chapter 15
Having already discussed the week’s meals with Ada Greenlaw that morning, Robina was sitting with Lady Rosalie in the solar, sorting through Benjy’s mending, while Rosalie embroidered a pillow cover.
“I vow,” Robina said, “most of Benjy’s clothing is more fit than mine is for the ragbag. Ash Nixon said he found some of these things in odd places, too.”
“I expect most boys are like that,” Rosalie said cheerfully. “Just wait until you and Dev have your own, dearling.”
Robina ignored the second sentence as she had ignored all such hints for the past twenty-four hours and said, “Benjy needs some new clothing, too.”
“I warrant Mistress Geddes will be pleased to make him some shirts and braies,” Rosalie said. “She can make him some woolen breeks, too.”
A footstep on the landing outside the door was the only warning before Dev opened it and stepped into the room. Had he blown in on a wintry blast, the temperature in the room could not, Robina thought, have dropped more swiftly.
She froze in her place but relaxed when his furious gaze swept past her to Rosalie. “Perhaps, madam,” he said icily, “you will be good enough to explain to me what your seamstress is doing here today, talking of gold-silk wedding gowns.”
Setting her work aside, Rosalie said matter-of-factly, “I sent my equerry to fetch her yesterday, sir. Robina cannot marry without a proper gown, and you have seen her kirtles. Not one is fit to wear in company, let alone on such an occasion as a wedding. Moreover, tradition decrees that a bride is entitled to a new gown for her wedding.”
“I asked you to keep your belief in such a wedding to yourself,” Dev said. The tension in his voice told Robina that he had exerted himself not to shout.
Looking at her mending to avoid his gaze, she nearly smiled when Rosalie said with surprise, “What would you have had me do, sir? One cannot summon up a wedding dress by magic. Cutting and stitching takes time. I did beg Mistress Geddes to sew swiftly and to do the silk gown first, but one cannot expect her to work a miracle.”
“I expected only that you would keep your word,” Dev said grimly.
“But I did,” Rosalie protested. “I said naught of bridals to her or anyone else. I strictly told Ned to ask only that she come here to finish the silk dress because her ladyship would need it sooner than expected for a special occasion.”
“And what special occasion did you expect Mistress Geddes might imagine taking place hereabouts without her foreknowledge?” Dev asked.
Rosalie shrugged. “There must be many such.”
“Blethers,” Dev retorted rudely.
The door opened with a bang, and Benjy rushed in, clearly excited but skidding to a halt when he saw Dev.
“Beany, is it true?” the boy demanded when Dev remained silent. “Are ye going to marry our Dev?”
To Robina, every sound in the room seemed to fade away, as if the room and its furnishings held a collective breath, awaiting her answer.
Rosalie and Dev turned toward her with similar, expectant looks on their faces. Benjy’s mouth was still agape, his eyes wide and sparkling.
She let her gaze pause a moment on Benjy before shifting it back to Dev. His wrath had cooled. His expression was calm. She sensed only his strength of purpose.
The look in his eyes softened then, warming her.
She said quietly to Benjy, “Dev is willing, laddie, and others are saying that I will marry him. ’Tis a gey important decision, though.
One must make it wisely and not let other people’s wishes or hopes interfere.
After all, when a lady marries, she does so forever.
She wants to be sure she’s marrying the right man. ”
“Aye, well, if it matters to ye, I think we’d do fine wi’ Dev,” Benjy said.
“Your opinion does matter,” Robina assured him with a smile. “I must think more before I decide, but I promise I won’t think too long.”
“Did ye want to talk more about it, then?” Benjy asked solemnly. “Mayhap we could help ye make up your mind.”
Flicking a glance at Dev to see him biting his lower lip, his eyes agleam with delight, Robina said gently, “Thank you, love. But I must decide this for myself.”
“Aye, then, I’ll just go tell the lads to cease their nattering about it till ye do.” Nodding with a lordly air to Dev and Lady Rosalie, Benjy left.
When he had gone, Rosalie stood gracefully and said to Dev, “I will silence Mistress Geddes, sir. I doubt the news has gone any further.”
With as regal an air as Benjy’s, and more contentment than remorse, she sailed out, leaving Robina alone with Dev, who shut the door and faced her.
Dev eyed Robby warily. She had handled Rosalie’s interference better than he had, and meantime, he’d realized something about himself.
He had hitherto believed he preferred gentle, complaisant women to defiant, outspoken ones.
His first clue that he might be mistaken was his reaction to his father’s belief that Anne Kerr might suit him as a wife.
Never had there breathed a more complaisant, obedient woman than Anne… or a more tedious one.
Robby had never been submissive or meek.
From their first meeting, she had spoken her mind to him and to Rab without thought of consequence.
She would argue with Rab, often fiercely, when they disagreed.
Having tried to intervene in one such quarrel between the twins—and only one—Dev had learned quickly that she was willing to fight just as fiercely with anyone when she believed she was right.
Had he been disgusted or scandalized by such behavior?
In truth, as he looked back, he knew that she had surprised and intrigued him.
He had also learned that when Rab spoke to her in a certain stern tone of voice, she would heed him.
And if Rab informed her, brutally or otherwise, that she had been cruel or rude to someone, she had quickly and most charmingly apologized.
The reverse was also true. She’d exerted more control over Rab than anyone else that Dev knew with the possible exception of their father and, sometimes, himself.
Realizing that she eyed him now with much the same wariness that he felt, he said, “What are you thinking?”
“Many things,” she said. “Thoughts tumble through my mind, one after the other, and get themselves all mixed up.”
Leaning against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “Fish one out then and tell me about it.”
“Aye, well, do you think that Douglas, like Ormiston, hopes we’ll marry?”
“Douglas has nowt to do with this,” he said firmly, straightening and taking a step toward her. “If you’re asking what I’d have done if he had suggested it, I’d have considered it as dutifully as any other such suggestion. He is my liege lord.
“However,” he went on, “if you want my thoughts, the plain truth is that I’ve wanted to possess you since I first saw you… not to marry you, mind, just to possess. So, ’tis likely I’d have agreed willingly if he’d ordered me to marry you.”
“Faith, Dev, one person cannot possess another,” she said. “Only a spirit can do that, and I am already possessed by Rab’s spirit and have been since his death.”
“Have you?” he murmured, stepping closer and drawing her into his arms. “Earlier, you said you wanted more kisses. See what Rab’s spirit thinks of this one.”
To his delight, she promptly tilted her face up. Their eyes met, and Dev felt something he’d never felt before. He could not have described the sensation to himself or to anyone else. It came and it went in the blink of an eye.
It was as if something had touched or lightly caressed some sensitive spot so deep inside him that he could not tell what or where it was. He came out of the moment with a sense of shock, as if all his hair stood on end.
Her lips touched his, and he knew where he was and what he wanted.
Moving one hand to cradle the back of her head and the other to span the small of her back, he kissed her lightly and then not so lightly.
And this time, when the tip of her tongue touched his lips, his own tongue welcomed it inside.
When she pressed her body harder against his, his responded urgently.
Stroking down her back to her hips, he kissed her more possessively, urging her passion to match his and delighting when she embraced him more tightly. She closed her eyes, and he could see her desire in her face and sense it in her body.
When she withdrew her tongue from his mouth and gently licked his lips, a memory stirred.
He broke off their kiss long enough to draw a breath, let it out, and wait for her to open her eyes and look at him.
Then he said, “See here, you aren’t just testing me or planning to kiss other men this way, are you? ”
With the most sensual smile he had seen from her, she murmured, “Would you be jealous if I did?”
“I told you, I don’t get jealous. But such behavior can be dangerous for a woman. Men tend to take such… um… forthrightness as more of an… an offer than the woman might intend. From most other women, you’d draw strong censure.”
“Would I?” Her tone was lazy, and he had a strong urge to shake her and assure her in no uncertain terms that she must never do such things carelessly or with such abandon.
Controlling that urge with some effort, he said with what he thought, under the circumstances, was admirable calm, “Just behave yourself, Robby.”
“Is this the Warden of Coklaw speaking now?” When he frowned, she grinned mischievously. “I’ll behave, Dev. What else can I do? After all, unless I were to flirt with Sandy or your Jem Keith, whom would I kiss? Also, Rosalie has assured us that no one else knows about our supposed betrothal.”
He wished he could believe that, but he knew how rumors flew around the Borders—throughout Scotland, come to that. If the King and his contentious cousin, the Lord of the Isles, each sent him felicitations, he would not be astonished.
Smiling at his absurd imagination, he held Robby a little away from him and said, “Just hope that you’re speaking the truth and that Rosalie did, too.”