by Lynsay Sands
Muttering under her breath, she cast a glance over her shoulder to be sure the boys weren't looking, and then quickly tugged the wet shift off and even more quickly tugged the gown on in its place. Of course, in her panic not to be caught naked, she didn't think to dry herself first. It made pulling the dress on a bit difficult since the soft cloth tended to cling to her damp skin. Edith managed it after a bit of a struggle and then huffed out an exasperated breath and quickly used the linen to dry her hair as much as she could.
Once that was done she recognized her next problem. She had no brush to tame the wild strands of hair that were now no doubt a ruffled mess. Slinging the linen over the tree branch to dry, she quickly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the mess the red strands were no doubt in. She then snatched up the soap, her wet chemise and the discarded gown she'd been wearing when they arrived and made her way to the furs where the men waited.
"Yer turn," Edith said brightly as she reached them.
Niels was immediately on his feet, but paused as he turned to look at her. When his eyes widened slightly and his lips twitched, Edith knew her hair was probably a terrible mess. Sighing inwardly, she dropped to sit on the furs and waved them away. "Go take yer bath. The water is fine."
Ronson was off at once, stripping off his braies and shirt as he went. Niels was a little slower to leave, but after saying, "Go ahead and start eating, we'll no' be long," he scooped up fresh clothes for Ronson, and a neatly folded shirt and fresh tartan for himself and turned to make his way down to the water's edge.
She saw him reach to his tartan and then it suddenly dropped away. Niels was left standing in nothing but a shirt that didn't quite cover his bottom. Edith gaped briefly, following the curves of his behind, and then promptly turned her back to the water to give them the privacy they'd afforded her. But it was hard. While she'd bathed in absolute silence, Ronson and Niels did not. The boy was laughing and chattering away and then squealing when Niels apparently splashed him. Edith was hard-pressed not to turn and see what was happening.
It was only when Niels called for Laddie that Edith glanced around and noticed that the dog was still lying curled up beside the furs and hadn't followed them to the water. The dog opened one eye and then closed it again and pretended not to hear. She wasn't surprised. Laddie hated baths. At best he suffered them and then went wild, shaking the water off and rubbing himself up against anything and everything he could to try to dry off afterward.
"Laddie," Niels growled in a warning tone, and the dog huffed miserably, but stood and moved slowly and reluctantly toward the water, his head and tail down. Chuckling to herself, Edith resisted the urge to turn and watch what would happen next, and simply listened. If he were true to previous baths in the loch, she knew Laddie would stop at the water's edge and have to be dragged in, and then would need to be held there else he'd rush out at the first opportunity. But that he'd then try to climb onto whoever was bathing him to get out of the water.
Judging by Ronson's laughter and Niels's curses that was exactly what the dog was doing, she decided moments later, and risked a glance over her shoulder. Laddie was on his hind legs, with his front paws on Niels's chest, trying to lick his face. Niels was twisting, trying to avoid the dog's tongue and then staggered and fell under the water, taking the dog with him.
Edith started to rise, concerned the dog would unintentionally drown Niels. But he popped up at once and stood, water pouring down his sculpted chest to return to the river where it reached his waist.
Edith swallowed and sank back to the ground, her wide eyes traveling the same hard curves as the water. Had she really thought him just handsome enough? She wondered. The man was magnificent. He surely wasn't the first man she'd seen bare-chested, she had three brothers, and there were hundreds of soldiers at Drummond, but none of them looked as perfect as Niels Buchanan did in that moment with the sun making the drops of water on his naked chest sparkle like diamonds. He was beautiful.
"Come here, Laddie," Niels ordered and actually patted his chest. He also braced his feet though. Edith could tell that by the way he shifted just before Laddie lunged upward, bracing his paws on his chest. He normally would have tried to climb out onto Niels then, but Niels grabbed the dog's paws on his chest and growled, "Stay."
When the soaking dog just looked at him pitifully, Niels took the soap Ronson had been holding and began to lather the beast. He glanced her way as he did, and Edith quickly turned her back once more, her face heating up at getting caught looking.
Sighing, she peered over the food laid out on the furs. Apparently the cherry pastries hadn't been all Niels had brought from the castle. The picnic he'd packed was an impressive layout. There was a whole roast chicken, cheese, bread, apples and more cherry pastries. Despite Niels's suggestion she start eating, Edith hadn't. She'd planned to wait for them to join her, but when her stomach growled hungrily, she decided an apple wouldn't hurt while she waited.
Edith was nearly finished with her apple when a nearly ten-stone, soaking wet Laddie suddenly rushed her and crawled into her lap. Squealing, she fell back and then tried to push him off as the dog attempted to dry himself on her dress.
"Laddie," Niels barked.
The dog froze at once and then rushed off back toward the water. Edith twisted her head slightly to look after him and gaped when she spotted Niels on his knees in naught but his shirt, folding pleats into his plaid by the water's edge. Ronson was busy pulling on his braies, but Niels caught her looking again. When he winked at her, she snapped her mouth closed and sat up abruptly so that her back was to them again.
Edith then busied herself looking for the remains of her apple. It had landed beside the furs. She picked it up, wrinkled her nose at the grass and dirt on it, and then set it down next to the furs again with a little sigh.
Chapter 5
"Ye did no' eat."
Edith glanced around at that comment and managed a smile as Niels led Ronson and Laddie back to her.
"Nay. I thought to wait fer the two o' ye," Edith murmured as Ronson rushed ahead to join her on the fur.
Laddie tried to follow, but Niels barked, "No!" bringing the dog up short. "Sit," he ordered, and Laddie sat down beside the furs where he'd been earlier.
"Good boy," Niels praised, petting the dog as he walked past to claim a spot on the furs.
Edith shook her head slightly. Laddie was a good dog, but rarely obeyed anyone as quickly and well as he appeared to listen to Niels. She usually had to repeat an order at least once or twice before the dog obeyed her, and he hadn't listened to her father and brothers at all. It was why he'd ended up her dog instead of one of the hunting dogs.
Niels picked up the bag he'd brought all the food in and dug out a large bone for Laddie. The dog stood up at once, immediately drooling.
"Sit," Niels said firmly. Laddie sat, and Niels gave him the bone with another, "Good boy."
The dog grabbed it and dropped to lie on the ground, holding it between his front paws as he began to gnaw on the end.
"So that's how ye make him behave," Edith murmured with amusement. "Ye bribe him with bones."
"Nay. He's a good dog," Niels said, turning to survey the food between them. He reached for the chicken, broke off a leg and offered it to her. "There's mead in the skin there. Help yerself."
"Thank ye," Edith murmured, accepting the leg.
The three of them ate in a companionable silence and Edith found herself imagining that they were a family, sharing a meal after a swim: mother, father and son. After they ate, they would ride back to the keep and--
She stopped herself there, because the keep would not be her home for much longer. And Niels wasn't her husband or ever likely to be, and Ronson was not her son. Laddie was the only one of the three that belonged with her, and that might not be true for much longer. Not if she ended up at the Abbey.
"What's making ye frown, lass?" Niels asked suddenly.
Edith quickly forced a smile to her lips. "I wa
s just thinking, m'lord."
"About what?" he asked.
"Nothing of import," she lied with a shrug and then changed the subject. "So, Saidh is happy and huge with child. But neither ye nor yer brothers said much about Murine and Dougall. Is all well there?"
"Oh, aye," he smiled faintly. "They seem very happy now that everything is settled. Although Dougall's complaining about all the travel they have to do."
"Travel?" she asked with surprise.
"Aside from Carmichael, they have her brother's castle and people in England to oversee," he said and explained, "She inherited Danvries when he died."
Edith's eyebrows rose. "So she went from fearing she'd have no home to two castles to run?"
"Aye," he grinned. "But it means a lot o' travel back and forth until they decide on what to do about Danvries."
"What do ye think they'll do?" she asked curiously.
Niels considered the question, and then said, "Probably get one o' me brothers to run it fer them. At least until Dougall has a son old enough to take over."
"Not you?" Edith asked curiously. "Ye're the next oldest are ye no'?"
"Aye, but I've plans o' me own for the future," Niels said solemnly. "At the moment, I'm helping Aulay at Buchanan. Well, no' right this minute, obviously," he added wryly. "But when matters are settled here I'll go back to Buchanan and my position as his first."
"It was good o' him to let ye come check on me fer Saidh," Edith said quietly. "I shall have to write and thank him."
"There's no need. He does no' ken I'm here," Niels said with amusement, and then explained, "We kenned when we were young that Aulay would inherit Buchanan and the rest o' us would have to make our own way. But me parents did no' leave us beggared. They left us each some land and some coin, and helped us decide what endeavor we wanted to pursue to earn more. For Dougall it was horses. He always loved the great beasts and he had an eye for 'em. He was always able to tell which would sire the best colts and which mare would birth the best and so on."
"And what was yer endeavor?" Edith asked curiously.
"Dogs," he answered with a smile. "I breed fine hunting dogs. Train them too."
"Ah," Edith murmured. That explained how good he was with Laddie.
"But there's no money in that," Niels added wryly. "I do breed and sell some to lairds in search o' good hunting dogs, but I make the real money with sheep."
Edith blinked. "Sheep?"
"Aye. Well, wool, really. I bought sheep with me money and have grown the herd o'er the years. Most o' the wool they produce is exported to Flanders for profit, but I keep a portion and it is spun and made into what many consider the finest woven cloth in Scotland. Because we produce so little, I'm paid an exorbitant fee fer what is made. Between the wool and woven cloth I make a tidy sum."
He paused briefly and then returned to the original subject. "And that's where Auley thinks I am now, delivering a shipment o' me woven cloth to the McKays. It was contracted before Dougall left and I took over as Auley's first, and I had to honor the contract. Geordie and Alick were accompanying me, and we only stopped at MacDonnell to see Saidh and escort Rory safely there so that he could check on her. We were supposed to head straight to McKay from there."
"And instead ye're here," Edith said and frowned. "Niels, I do no' want to interfere with yer business. If ye have to deliver yer woven cloth--"
"Nay," he assured her. "Greer had his men escort it north in exchange fer our coming here to check on ye on Saidh's behalf."
"Oh." Edith smiled crookedly. "Good."
"Aye." He glanced down briefly and then looked to Ronson when the boy suddenly got up and moved over to wrestle with Laddie.
"The lads are getting restless," Edith murmured, beginning to pack up the remains of their picnic. "I suppose we should head back before everyone starts to worry."
"Aye," Niels murmured and then reached in the large sack and retrieved a hairbrush.
"Oh," Edith reached up self-consciously to her hair. "I suppose I look a fright."
"Nay," he assured her and then grinned and added, "But if I take ye back looking like that, they'll think it was more than swimming we got up to."
Edith's eyes widened incredulously and she felt herself blush. She snatched the hairbrush from him and began to drag it quickly through her knotted hair, wincing as she did.
"Edith, lass," Niels murmured, shifting to his knees to move around behind her. "Give me that ere ye brush yerself bald. Yer hair is too beautiful to abuse it so. 'Tis obvious ye're use to yer maid doing this."
Edith glanced around at him in surprise at the compliment and then turned forward again when he took the brush and began to run it gently through her hair. At first she merely sat silent, watching Ronson play with Laddie. The pair seemed caught up in a game of chase now, Ronson running after the dog and then whirling and running away as Laddie started to chase him. Edith smiled as she watched, but said to Niels, "Ye've done this before."
He chuckled, his breath brushing her ear and sending a shiver down her back. "It shows, does it?"
"Aye, ye're very gentle," she said, and then asked, "Saidh?"
"With nine children and the keep to run, Mother often gave us chores to help out and I usually ended up brushing Saidh's hair fer her in the mornings. I learned to be gentle quite quickly," he added dryly. "Saidh was no' above a swift kick to the nether regions on whoever was unfortunate enough to have the chore that day."
"Nine," Edith murmured. "Saidh mentioned that she had eight brothers when we first met, but then she named only seven o' ye and I thought I'd misheard. But there were nine o' ye?"
"Aye," Niels admitted, sounding reluctant. "Ewan died in the same battle that scarred our brother, Auley," he explained quietly. "The family does no' talk about it though."
"Why?" Edith asked.
"I think because we were unable to claim his body and bring him home," Niels admitted slowly, the brush stilling briefly. "Dougall, Conran and I saw Ewan fall under a broadsword, but after the battle we could no' find his body."
"Mayhap he did no' die," Edith suggested hopefully.
"He died," Niels assured her heavily. "He was cleaved in half, Edith. Our brother could no' have survived that. No one could."
"Oh," Edith murmured, and then didn't know what to say. In the end she merely whispered, "I'm sorry."
"Thank ye," was his solemn response.
They both fell silent then and Edith found herself wracking her brain, trying to think of something to say to lighten the moment. A squeal from Ronson distracted her, however, and her gaze focused on the lad as he tackled Laddie, throwing himself over the dog's back. When the dog merely dropped to the ground and rolled to remove the boy, Niels chuckled softly behind her and Edith felt herself relax. She smiled faintly as they watched the pair play.
"Has Ronson no friends among the children?" Niels asked after a moment.
Edith's smile faded. "I'm afraid his grandmother has discouraged him from playing with the other children."
"Why?"
She could hear the frown in his voice, but admitted, "Bessie said that his circumstances will soon change and there was no sense in his making friends with lads he'd soon have nothing to do with." Clearing her throat, she added, "I do no' really blame her. She's probably right. Brodie will listen to Victoria and throw the pair of them out once she convinces him to send me off to the Abbey. Ronson's grandmother is just trying to ensure he's hurt as little as possible when that happens. This way he'll only lose a home and no' friends along with it."
"Victoria does no' like Ronson and his grandmother?" Niels asked quietly.
Edith sighed. "In truth, Victoria does no' like much of anything at Drummond. If she could replace all the servants, she would."
"Because they did no' automatically obey her over you when Brodie took on the temporary mantle of laird while ye're brothers were sick?"
"Aye," Edith murmured. "I suspect she'll try to be free o' every one o' the maids that did that as soon
as I'm gone. She may even succeed. She's a smart woman. She'll find an excuse to manage it."
"I'm sorry," Niels said quietly.
"So am I," she admitted. "They deserve better."
"I meant fer the pain it's causing you," Niels said solemnly. "'Tis obvious ye care fer yer people, and their uncertain future distresses ye."
Edith turned to meet his gaze and nodded solemnly. "They are me family. Every last one o' them. I grew up with them here, caring fer me and . . ." She lowered her head on a sigh. "I feel as if I'm failing them by not being able to protect them."
"Lass, they ken ye'd help them if ye could, but ye can no' even protect yerself," he pointed out, and then frowned with displeasure.
She started to turn forward again, but paused when he said, "Edith?"
"Aye?" she asked.
Niels opened his mouth, closed it and then simply shook his head and put the brush back in the bag. "Yer hair is done."
"Thank ye," Edith said softly, but eyed him with curiosity. There had been purpose in his eyes for a moment. She was quite sure he'd meant to say something else, but had no idea what. And apparently he'd changed his mind.
Shrugging, she pushed herself to her knees and helped gather up the rest of their picnic items to pack away, then helped him roll up the furs as well. She carried the food sack while he carried the furs and the larger sack with the wet linens and their soiled clothes and they walked to his horse. While he set the furs in their sling and hung the large bag from the saddle, she reached up to try to affix the smaller bag as well and was still struggling with the task when he finished his own chores. Seeing that she was having problems because she wasn't quite tall enough to attach the bag to the pommel, he stepped up behind her to help.
Edith stilled the moment she felt his chest against her back. There was something so intimate about it, and then she realized that Niels had gone still as well. They both stood there for a moment, back to chest, both holding their breaths, and then he lowered his hands to her waist. He clasped her so lightly that she could have escaped if she'd wanted to, but Edith found her feet unwilling to move and simply stood there waiting. An era seemed to pass and then he murmured, "Yer hair is so beautiful."