“So how do you mean to woo her?” asked Nigel.
“Why do ye need to ken the how of it?” Iain asked.
“One of us could, weel, lend a hand now and then.”
“Tell tales of your great bravery or extraordinary resourcefulness,” drawled Matthew.
Robbie choked on a laugh then struggled to look innocent when Iain looked at him. “I think we could come up with a few things,” he murmured.
“Please, and I mean this most sincerely, dinnae try to help me.”
Iain laughed at their expressions, an odd mix of annoyed and crestfallen, and rolled the small cart out of the stable. He walked out of the compound to dump the contents of the cart onto the growing pile already there. Then he forked a heavy cover of hay over the whole lot. Not one of the more pleasant duties on a farm but they all took their turn.
Something else he and Emily did not share, the knowledge of hard work. She might not be a lady of the sort of Lady Vera, but he doubted she had ever done any true hard labor. There was a good chance that, until she had come to this country, she had rarely been around the ones who worked hard for their living. He briefly thought of how she had been scrubbing their house and decided that, although it was undoubtedly hard work, it was not really the same thing. For one thing, she would never have worried about smelling like manure or reek of sheep.
After he put the cart and shovel away he headed into the house. He needed a change of clothes and a wash. Mrs. O’Neal was just stepping out of the front parlor and she scowled at him. Iain just smiled and, before she could begin talking to him, hurried up the stairs. He had already heard her lecture from his brothers and was not about to let her corner him for one.
Once clean of the smell of the stables, Iain headed out to check on the flock. The Powell brothers were excellent shepherds but he did not want to become one of those who only cared for the money his stock brought him. He wanted to be involved in it all, from the lambing to the shearing. He had plans to improve the quality of his sheep and the wool they produced for him. Iain dismounted near to Owen, who was watching the sheep.
“How is the wooing going, boyo?” asked Owen, and he grinned when Iain scowled at him. “That well, eh?”
“I havenae begun yet.”
“Why not?”
“Needed to do some planning. Never wooed a lass before. Want to do it right.” He rubbed the back of one of the sheep. “This lass is getting a bit old, aye.”
“She will not be lambing again, I think. Good girl though. She keeps the others calm when it is needed.” Owen rubbed the ewe’s head. “If you are looking for mutton though . . .”
“In no rush for it. Hate picking one out for slaughter. Always have even though I have no trouble filling my belly with the meat.”
“I will let you know when we have one.”
“Fair enough.” He checked over one of the lambs and then stood up. “Still pondering a fence. Ken it willnae solve the problem but think it might make it more difficult for the wolves.”
“Well”—Owen rubbed his chin—“cannot say that would be a bad thing. Been so long since we had anything to do with wolves I have little knowledge or experience with them.” Owen looked at Iain and slowly smiled. “Just why are you out here? I don’t think you really have anything important to discuss about the flock.”
“Only one thing I feel ye need to ken. If I decide to build the fence in what could be a vain attempt to keep the wolves away, I will have to get a loan. I will put the flock up as collateral.”
“Your flock.”
“I was trying to find out how ye feel about that.”
“As I said, it is your flock. And what else would you put up? Your house? Your land? No, that would not do. And there is also the small fact that I know you will do everything you are able to do to pay it off in time so the flock will not be in any real danger. Trouble can come though, no doubt of that. Warning you though, you may lose the flock but me and David ain’t leaving our cabin.” He grinned.
Iain laughed and slapped the man on the back. “Fair enough.”
“So go and start your wooing.”
“Shut up, Owen,” Iain said as he walked over to his horse and swung himself up in the saddle, then rode off to the sound of Owen laughing.
* * *
Emily watched Neddy running around with Mrs. O’Neal’s boys and smiled. He had never really had anyone to play with before. Rory and Donald were older than him but never pushed him away or ignored him. The friendship was slowly helping Neddy with his speech, too. She wished she knew some women with a child closer to his age though. It was always good if a child had children of an age with him to play with.
“Here,” Mrs. O’Neal said, holding a glass of cold tea out for her. “Best to have a drink now and then when you sit in the sun.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, and smiled at Mrs. O’Neal when she sat down beside her on the bench. “I was just thinking of moving into the shade so this is very welcome.”
“A bit of sun is good for a person.”
“Not allowed for a lady. Why, you might get some color on your delicately pale, pale skin.” She grinned when Mrs. O’Neal laughed. “I was forever being told that.”
Mrs. O’Neal suddenly looked over her shoulder and frowned. “What is he doing back home? I don’t think this was his day off. It’s Duncan’s.”
“Day off ?” Emily asked but Mrs. O’Neal was already standing and heading toward the gates Iain had just ridden through.
* * *
Iain looked at Mrs. O’Neal as she frowned up at him. He dismounted and grabbed the reins so he could walk his horse to the stable. It took him a moment of thought before he realized he had frightened her with his early return to the house.
“Nothing is wrong,” he reassured her. “I am simply done with what I wanted to do.”
“Oh. Gave me a bit of a fright for a moment. Things being as they are and all.”
“Fine. No trouble. I just thought I ought to tell Owen what I was thinking about doing and what I would put up as collateral for a loan. He didnae have a problem with it. Did tell me that if I did lose the flock he and David would not be leaving that cabin.” He grinned when Mrs. O’Neal laughed.
As he headed to the stable he noticed Emily was sitting outside watching the children play. He put his horse away and took out the small bouquet of wildflowers he had tucked carefully into his saddlebags. Frowning at them he thought they looked a little rough but he shrugged and walked back outside.
Emily was sitting alone watching the children play with the ball. Not the best setting for his first attempt at wooing her but he decided to go ahead. They could at least speak with no one listening, he decided. Sitting down beside her, he smiled at her when she looked at him.
“I brought ye these,” he said, and held out the flowers, inwardly wincing over how awkward that was and wishing he had practiced the action a few times.
Emily took the flowers and studied them. They were not what she was accustomed to and then she decided there were really no places around that sold fancier flowers. She suspected he had picked them from some field when he was out with the sheep. The poor things also looked as if they had been roughly handled. The image of Iain out in a field picking flowers for her touched her deeply and she smiled at him.
“Thank you. Are they wildflowers?”
“Aye. Got them out in the fields.” He looked at the children and found all three boys staring at him. “Why are they staring at us?” he asked quietly.
“I have no idea. I also think I do not wish to ask them.”
“Probably a good idea. One can never be sure of what a child will answer. Can ye leave while they are out here or must ye stay and watch them?”
“Well, unless Mrs. O’Neal wanders back out here, I think I have to stay. Not for her children but because Neddy is out here. He does rather need an eye kept on him.”
“Especially when he is with the older boys.”
“They are good boys
but they play harder and some things they get up to can be too difficult for Neddy or he ends up tripping or falling.”
Iain decided he needed to pick a better time. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. The faint blush she tried to hide by ducking her head just enough to make her hair fall forward and hide her cheeks made him smile.
“Then I shall see you later.”
Emily watched him walk away and frowned. For the first time since she had met him he had acted a bit awkward. The flowers were nice but the way he gave them to her was a bit odd, abrupt, and with no flattering words accompanying them. It was a lovely gift but left her unsure of what he was doing.
What she wanted to do was put her flowers into water but she was stuck unless Neddy decided he wanted to go inside. Then Neddy ran over to her and wanted her to take him inside because he needed to relieve himself. Emily went inside with the boy and as Neddy took care of his personal business, she filled a little vase with water and put her flowers in it. Once in water and loosened from the snug bunch they were in, the flowers looked quite lovely.
“Pretty,” said Mrs. O’Neal as she entered the kitchen. “Iain brought you flowers, did he?”
“Yes. I believe they are wildflowers.”
“Oh, they are indeed. A fine selection.” Mrs. O’Neal looked at them more closely. “Think he didn’t handle them very carefully.”
“They are fine.”
Mrs. O’Neal just glanced up at the ceiling and sighed. “The man is trying to court you.”
“Oh, no, of course not. He just found a few flowers he thought I would like is all.”
“Of course, all the men are forever pausing in their work to pick some flowers,” she drawled, and ignored Emily’s frown at her sarcasm. “Well, we will see. Now here comes the little man and I think he is very tired.” Mrs. O’Neal knelt in front of Neddy. “Are you tired, my boy?”
“No.” Neddy yawned and seeing Emily sitting at the table walked over and patted her on her lap. “Sit, Em?”
Emily picked him up and put him on her lap. “You have had yourself a busy, busy day today, love.”
“I have. Playeded ball with Rory.”
“I watched you but, do you think, a nap, a short rest, might be something you would like to have? Just a little one so your eyes can stay open again.”
Neddy nodded and she picked him up. He rested his head on her shoulder as she carried him upstairs. By the time she reached the room where his cot was the boy was already asleep. Emily smiled as she put him down on the bed. She took off his shoes, kissed him on the forehead, and then quietly left the room only to bump into Iain.
“I thought you left,” she said as she pulled the bedroom door shut.
“Nay, I just had a good look over the walls. I do it every once in a while, to make sure they are still sturdy. They are. Gates are sturdy, too.” He took her by the hand and tugged her toward his room.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Where I can kiss ye senseless without interruption.”
Emily almost laughed. She had not expected him to answer so honestly. She did not fight as he pulled her into his room and shut the door although the way he latched it made her a little nervous. Emily was not sure just how far she would allow him to go or how far he might try to go and if she was fully prepared for the consequences of that. She was no longer pure but there was no sense in becoming simply a mistress to a man out in the wilds of a new country.
She should say no. She should walk away but, as he pulled her into his arms, she lost all urge to do so. Everyone thought he was courting her. It would be foolish to walk away now when he might just be working his way to what she ached for, a permanent relationship.
His kiss made her senses reel and her heart pound. Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. She craved his kisses and knew that was her greatest weakness. How could any woman keep her senses when a man kissed like he did?
Iain desperately wanted to toss her onto the bed and make love to her but too many people were around. He eased away from her, ending the kiss slowly as he did so. He was trying to woo her and making love to her again, in secret, sneaking around so she was not shamed, was not the way to court a woman.
“There. I have been thinking about that all day.” He brushed a kiss over her forehead.
“You have?”
“Aye.” He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and then opened the door.
After a look down the hall, he led her out and started down the stairs. Iain led her by holding on to her hand. Her silence told him she was puzzled by his actions but was too polite to say so. Iain was puzzled by them too. He was wanting her all the time yet he knew he should not give in to that want. That, he reminded himself with a twisted smile, was not the way to woo a woman and that was what he was supposed to be doing.
“Is there anything ye would like to do?”
“I cannot think of anything. Not here. I do not wish to go back into town for a while as I think it will make me nervous or afraid. I do not really know what people do around here, either. In England it is a lot easier even if all one does is wait for invites. There are also walks in the park, plays, musicales, and so on.”
“True. There is little here like that. Well, I shall have to put some thought to it. We should get away from the house now and then, just us.”
“That would be nice. It can be something simple. Like a picnic or a walk or a ride.”
He nodded. Then, when they reached the bottom of the stairs, he stole a quick kiss and went out the door. Emily stood there wondering what was wrong with the man. Then she shook her head and headed for the kitchen. It might be time to help Mrs. O’Neal with a meal. It would be good for her to do something ordinary and occasionally boring.
* * *
When it was time for supper, Iain felt he had himself straightened out. It was a good thing too, he thought, or Emily would be wondering about his sanity. He was not all that sure of it himself. What he was sure of was that he had set his course and he needed to stick with it. No more trying to get her alone so he could satisfy his baser needs. That was the act of a cad, and he was trying to show her he was a beau, a serious man courting her.
He glanced at her cutting up some meat for little Neddy. She looked perfectly calm as she talked to the boy. That made him feel better. He had not scared her with too much attention—strange behavior from him, strange to her at least. It would have been difficult to explain what he had been doing if he had. The real problem was that he had never dealt with a young, untried woman before. His experience, little as it was, was with the whores at the tavern who required nothing of him except payment. One could have a good time with them and not worry about offending them.
He would go back to simple courting. Stay with flowers and candy and maybe another small gift or two. He was not sure he would be good at it but he might even try playing the beau. And, he thought, he needed to consider a better way of handing her his offerings. Today he had been no better than one of Mrs. O’Neal’s sons. Although he had a feeling even they would be more gracious and more like a true beau than he had been. That thought almost made him laugh and he took a quick look around the table to be sure no one had noticed his strange behavior.
“I think it might be good to have our reading and writing lessons soon.” Emily took note of the complete lack of interest and sighed. “Well, when you decide you would like to read and write just let me know.” She was a little disappointed as she had hoped she could give back something for all the care they had given her and Neddy.
“I think I want to,” said Rory, glancing at his mother, who quickly nodded with approval.
Several of the MacEnroys nodded and Robbie just smiled. Emily smiled back at him, knowing she had at least one very willing pupil. She would start work on figuring out when and how and create a few things to make lessons easier. She had to begin to teach Neddy so whoever wanted to join in when she did that they would
be welcome. She recalled what Robbie had said about wanting to read a book so she felt rather certain he would join in.
When she finally found her way to bed that night, Emily was ready for sleep but her mind was not. She worried about what Albert would try next. The man was quite possibly mad as a hatter, she thought. No one could think killing off so many in one family would never raise any suspicions. And, by now, she would think a sane man would have given up. A sane man certainly would not resort to increasingly large groups of men openly attacking them. There was no subtlety to that and secrecy had seemed to be what Albert wanted. Now he was just lashing out.
Then there was Iain to wonder about. What was she to do about him? She could say she would not be his lover anymore but she knew there was little chance of her holding to that. Could she coax him into saying what he felt and what he wanted? Emily was not sure she could do that. She was not sure he was the sort of man one could coax. What she needed from him was a return of the love she felt for him but she had no idea of how to get that or ask for it.
She also worried over whether she should take Neddy and get back to England, try to reach her grandfather. He would keep them safe. He could even afford to hire people to hunt down Albert. All she had to do was get him to believe that Albert wanted her and Neddy dead. The dead had continued to pile up though so he might be ready to listen to her. That had not gone well the last time she had tried it so she was reluctant to try again but she did not see that she had much choice. She was very reluctant to risk Neddy’s and her life to do so, however.
Reaching up she rubbed at her forehead, feeling the strong hint of an aching head forming. First she would sleep, she told herself firmly, for she badly needed to. Then she would think over things and come to a few decisions. It was past time to stop just letting the MacEnroys take care of her and get a better control over her own life. She was now a woman alone, one with the full responsibility of her sister’s child, and it was past time she acted like it.
The Scotsman Who Saved Me Page 16
