Chapter Six
Singing softly to herself Emily brushed flat the cover on her bed. She straightened and looked over the room. Everything was clean now. It had taken almost all day, which she found annoying since it was one of the smallest rooms in the house. Even after two weeks she still tired easily and had needed to sit down too often and rest. She told herself to be patient. What had been done to her required a long period of healing and she needed to accept that with grace.
She looked at the freshly washed curtains, the completely cleaned and fluffed bed, the clean rugs spread on a swept, washed, and polished floor and decided how long it had taken her did not matter. Although Mrs. O’Neal had polished the floor, Emily had managed the rest. Feeling proud and increasingly confident about her recovery, she started down the stairs.
Voices filled the dining room and she paused to look in. All seven MacEnroy brothers were gathered around the table, which had what looked to be maps spread over it. They were an amazing array of handsome men. She was still astonished the place was not besieged with women trying to catch their eyes, even young Robbie’s, but she had quickly become aware of the shortage of available women as they had traveled west. Women were not inclined to make such a journey without a man at their side, which left the single men with few choices.
Mrs. O’Neal was pouring them all glasses of cider. Each one took the time to thank her kindly. What fascinated her, though, was the two somewhat disreputable men who were hunkered on the floor intently inspecting one of Donald’s puppies. It was an adorable black-and-white mix and obviously a breed that was far from pure but young Donald was doing a fine job of espousing all of the dog’s fine points.
“Hello, dearie,” said Mrs. O’Neal as she started toward the door where Emily stood. “All done with the room?”
“Yes, finally. What is going on?”
“The lads are arguing over where the wolves might be and whether they should fence in the sheep. They have that argument every year,” she added softly. “Always ends up with them agreeing the sheep don’t do well all penned in. One spends too much time moving them from pasture to pasture. The Powell brothers are here looking at my boy’s puppy. They think he may be able to be trained to help with the sheep. Their dog is getting old, though not too old he can’t breed puppies with my bitch, and they want another up and trained before the old girl dies. Might need to breed her again.”
“In England they have very simple fences or hedgerows.”
“They don’t have wolves.”
“True. What do the Powell brothers do here?”
“Sheep herders or shepherds if you prefer.”
“But there are seven brothers.”
Mrs. O’Neal nodded. “And guess who they learned about sheep from. The Powell boys are out in the fields during the night now. They really had no other place to go,” she said softly. “I best get started on the food. All this planning and arguing seems to give them a hearty appetite.”
“They always have a hearty appetite.”
“True enough. Hey, Owen?” Both Powell men stood up and looked at Mrs. O’Neal. “You and David are staying for a meal.” Even though it was more a command than a request both men nodded.
“I will give you a hand,” Emily said as she followed Mrs. O’Neal out of the room. “Oh my, something smells very good,” she said as they entered the kitchen.
“Mutton stew. Got two pots of it cooking. We just need some biscuits and something for a sweet after.”
“Never had mutton stew.”
“Fairly common amongst farmer families.” She gave Emily a sideways glance.
Ignoring the woman’s look that begged for some answers, and with only a little instruction, Emily fell into the work of making biscuits. She was finding work in the kitchen soothing. A little smile touched her mouth as she suddenly recalled the reaction of the head cook at Stanton Manor when she had tried to help in the kitchen. Flush with new knowledge she had wanted to hone her skills. Instead she had nearly caused their head cook, Mrs. Paxton, to swoon. Then had come the lecture.
Not the place for a lady was an often-repeated phrase. It had infuriated her so she had finally stomped out of the kitchens and never gone back. The one good thing that had come out of that confrontation was that one of the kitchen maids had quietly offered to teach her a few things. Between that girl’s help and the lessons with Mrs. Cobb, the tenant’s wife, she felt competent in the kitchens. Making up the meals, with no help when living with her sister, had given her more confidence in her ability. Emily was contemplating asking Mrs. O’Neal if she could cook a meal sometime with the woman helping as much as was needed. In her mind she planned the whole meal out as she helped Mrs. O’Neal with the biscuits and her need to do so grew stronger.
When everyone started to arrive for the meal, Emily was surprised at how well the Powell brothers cleaned up. They had cast off their somewhat ragged coats and washed up, revealing that they were probably not much older than Iain. They had even taken the time to scrape the scruff off their faces revealing fine features. Both had thick black hair and dark blue eyes. They might have been twins, perfectly matching, except that Owen had a few age lines that David did not as well as a ragged scar that ran from the side of his right eye right down to his neck. Someone had once tried to kill the man, she thought, and then fought back her curiosity about the man’s life.
She ate her meal surrounded by the accents of Scotland, Wales, and America. Glancing at Neddy she saw only happiness on his face as he ate his meal and listened to the men talk. It hurt her to realize he was not still grieving for his parents, had only done so mildly before settling in with the MacEnroys, even as she accepted that it was probably for the best. What hurt was the knowledge that her sister would not be dearly remembered by many. Emily promised herself that she would tell Neddy about his parents. While it was sadly true that they had not dealt much with their child, they had given him life and died to make sure he stayed alive. For those things alone they should be remembered.
By the time the meal was done, highly praised by the men, and she and Mrs. O’Neal had cleared up the kitchen Emily was tired yet not ready to go to sleep. Her mind was too full of worries about what she and Neddy would do once she was fully healed. That time was swiftly approaching for even her leg wound was only mildly aching if she worked on her feet too much or it got bumped. It would not be long before her strength fully returned either. Soon there would be no reason for her to stay with the MacEnroys.
“Is it safe enough to step outside for a while?” she asked Mrs. O’Neal.
“If you stay within the walls. There is a porch front and back. The back porch has a swing.” Mrs. O’Neal removed her apron and slipped on her coat. “Just stay inside the walls,” she warned again, and hurried out to go to her cabin.
Emily went upstairs to tuck Neddy into bed and make sure he was asleep. She got her wrap, one of the many things retrieved from the cabin, and then headed back down. Thinking that sitting on a porch swing was a wonderful idea, she stepped out onto the back porch, the cool night air a pleasure after working in the kitchen. She had only taken a few steps when she saw Iain standing at the end of the porch, leaning on the railing and studying his domain.
“Ye dinnae need to scurry back inside,” he said, and turned to face her.
“I never scurry,” she said, and watched his lips twitch as if he suppressed a smile.
“Come to sit on the swing? Matthew made it. We chided him for his fancy but it gets a lot of use.”
Although a small voice in her head told her it was not a good idea, Emily walked to the swing and sat down. “He does wonderful work,” she said as she ran her hands over the seat.
“He has a gift.”
“Has he thought to make anything to sell?”
“Now and then for, when he has the wood, he wants to make something but we dinnae always need it. His skill is helpful in bargaining for what we need, too.”
Iain sat down next to her, draping his arm over the back of the seat. Emily immediately tensed but she realized it was not a tension caused by wariness or fear. It was born of anticipation, that she wanted him to put his arm around her. She inwardly cursed herself for being an idiot. She complained about the man not knowing his own mind but it appeared she did not know hers, either.
“He is good enough to make a business of it,” she said.
“Perhaps, if we lived in a city, or near one. We live out here and there just isnae the market he needs. There isnae the money here to give him a good living.”
“Ah, probably not. A bit of a shame.”
“Aye. He did much of the finishing off of the house. I recognize his skill and it would bring good money elsewhere but he has no wish to move.”
“I cannot blame him for that. It is quite lovely here, at least, from what little I have seen of it and the problem of wolves eating lambs aside. And he has no great needs as you seem to do well enough here.”
“It serves.” He moved his hand so that he could stroke her hair. “Did your sister and her man do well where they were?”
“We were not there long enough to find out.” She sighed. “They had such hopes.” The main one being that they had found peace and safety, she thought.
“Aye, it is sad that they were killed before they could attain them. This is a fine land but it can also be cruel. There are a lot of desperate men and not enough law.”
“That is because it is so new, is it not? They have not had hundreds of years, thousands even, to set in their rules and laws. Although a judge we stayed with for a few days in Boston said it is those laws and legal customs they follow somewhat.”
Iain just grunted. After what had happened to his family he did not feel anything good about English systems and laws. He had not yet decided this country did it any better. For most of the time he had been in this country he had either lived outside towns or been traveling to someplace. The threat of violence was always with them as well.
Shaking aside that thought, he looked at the woman sitting beside him as he moved his arm so that it lightly encircled her shoulders. She sat looking out at the yard which, he thought, was not the best view. She had relaxed even though he had changed his hold on her and he took that as a positive sign.
“It is very nice out here but I think a chill is rolling in.”
“Could be. Getting that time of the year.” He turned her so she was facing him.
“I am not sure this is a good idea and it is certainly not what I came out here for.” Emily was pleased with her calm tone for her insides were leaping with what she could only call anticipation.
“I just came out for a smoke.”
“A bad habit.”
Iain decided he had lost all interest in a smoke. Emily looked lovely in the soft light of the moon. He thought of her sprawled out on the swing beneath him and his whole body hardened. A dangerous thought, he mused, but one that now crowded his dreams. He just had to catch a glimpse of her in the distance and he grew hard. It was becoming embarrassing. Reminding himself that she was gentry, even if she would not say so, no longer cooled the heat of wanting and that troubled him more than the almost consistent want did.
He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. Studying her face for a moment, he saw no rejection. If anyone asked, he would have to say it was indecision mixed with a hint of curiosity. He did not blame her for the indecision but he would ignore it. He bent his head and kissed her.
Emily placed her hands on his chest to push him away but the moment his mouth covered hers, she clutched at his shirt. She opened to the gentle prod of his tongue. His kiss clouded her mind even as it heated her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight, pressing her body up close against his. It was scandalous of her but she enjoyed it.
Desire was not something she had any knowledge of but Emily was sure that was what was flooding her body as he moved his kisses to her neck. She shivered as the feel of the heat of his mouth ran through her body. When he returned to her mouth, taking it a bit roughly, she was as eager as he seemed to be. Then he slid his hand over her breast and the surprise of the touch brought a hint of sanity. Slowly she pulled her arms from around his neck and pressed her hands against his chest, this time giving a very gentle push.
Iain lifted his head and stared at the hand he had put on her breast. Reluctantly he moved it but could still feel the hard tip of her breast nudging his palm. That he could feel it even through the material of her clothes told him that she was as stirred by their kisses as he was. Sighing softly, he met her gaze and the look in her eyes told him he had gone too far too fast. Emily Stanton was not some woman who worked at the Trading Post.
“I will see ye in the morning.” He turned and walked away, knowing that distance was what he needed now.
Emily stared after him and shook her head. She hurried back inside and slipped into her room then began to change into her nightdress. The man was confusing. He had not even apologized for touching her so, just walked away.
As she climbed into bed she decided the look on her face must have told him that he had gone too far. Kisses could be allowed but anything else was forbidden. Or it should be since she was an unwed lady and she knew that rule held in this country as it did in England. Emily was not sure she had the strength to refuse if he put his mind to having her, however.
The very thought of being touched by him, made love to by him, made her tremble and she was not even completely sure how that was done. She was in trouble. There was definitely a part of her that welcomed the idea of him showing her how that was done. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and told herself to go to sleep. It might be time to start planning what she and Neddy should do once she was completely healed. There was no doubt in her mind that, if she stayed here too long, she would give in to the man and since he offered no hint of having feelings for her that would be a tragic mistake.
She suddenly thought of her parents, which surprised her because she rarely thought of them any longer. Yet now she could see her mother, a woman who was never terribly happy. Resigned would be the word to best describe her mother. Her marriage to Emily’s father had been arranged. Emily had always sworn she would not enter an arranged marriage but had never had much hope of being able to stick to that vow.
From listening to conversations she had not been supposed to hear she had learned that her mother had been with child when her parents married. That had stunned her when she had reached an age to fully understand all the ramifications of such a thing. It was truly the kind of scandalous behavior her mother had never revealed any inclination for and had often lectured her daughters thoroughly on any behavior she seemed to think was worthy of scandal. Now Emily understood that, in so many ways, the freedom of choice had been taken away from her mother by her own lack of restraint.
It was sad but a part of her was angry that her mother had not made a better effort to make herself happy. Her father had not been a bad man compared to many another husband and at some point her mother had obviously found him attractive enough. Now she rather understood what could have happened. Iain had shown her the heady power of need and passion. She promised herself she would be careful. There was no need of a forced or arranged marriage here but there was always a chance of finding herself carrying the child of a man who could not love her but would feel compelled to marry her. She needed to guard against that chance. Perhaps, she thought as sleep started to nudge at her, it was past time she turned cold to him.
* * *
Iain lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. It was going to be a while before his body relaxed enough for him to find sleep. This time telling himself he needed to go visit one of the girls at the Trading Post brought nothing but a feeling of distaste. That did not please him and he knew that was a sign of trouble. The girls at the Trading Post could ease the sharp bite of need but he realized it would never help him to stop wanting Emily Stanton.
He then realized he had not once thought of Emily as a lady tonight, as one of Lady Vera’s ilk. That cold fury at gentry had not rushed in to cool his interest or make him angry about feeling it. In the days she had been at the house he had somehow separated her from that class of woman. He knew it had been unreasonable to ever think of her that way but the fact that he no longer did seemed another sign of trouble to him.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered.
* * *
Emily opened her eyes and stretched. The sight of Neddy’s empty cot pushed aside the lazy pleasure she was enjoying and she sat up. Her door was ajar and she could hear voices in the kitchen. She had slept past breakfast call. Blushing, she got up and gathered her clothes, slipping behind the privacy screen that had been brought in so she could dress. Quickly running a brush through her hair, she tied it back with a ribbon and rushed down the stairs, ignoring the occasional twinges in her leg.
“Oh, I am sorry, Mrs. O’Neal,” she said as she stepped into the kitchen and saw everyone seated and eating. “I should have been up to help you.”
“Nonsense. You clearly needed your sleep. I have been making the food for this lot for a long time. Have your breakfast.” She set a plate of eggs and ham in front of where Emily usually sat. “I saved you some in case you came even later.”
“Thank you, Mrs. O’Neal.”
Emily did her best to ignore Iain as she ate. She knew if she looked at him even once her blushes would tell everyone at the table far more than she wanted them to know. It was difficult to keep anything secret from such a large group of people. Somehow she was going to have to train herself to not think of kisses or touches when she looked at him.
Finished with her meal, she looked up and found everyone gone until she turned to the side. Iain straddled the bench at her side, studying her carefully. As she frowned at him she felt the burn of a blush on her cheeks and inwardly cursed.
“You do not have any work today?” she asked.
“Always have work but today is my day off.”
“You get one?”
“Aye, I get one though I dinnae often take one. I am about to head out to clean out the stables. They need it and it will save me having to see it done tomorrow. What do ye plan to do?”
“Clean. I think today I will attempt to clean the dining room.”
“Why? It looks clean to me.”
“Well, you are a man.”
He laughed abruptly. “You have been around Mrs. O’Neal too much. Truly, why do you want to clean the dining room?”
“A good hard clean and not just a sweep and a dust. I have decided to do a room a day and by winter this place will be pristine.”
“Still dinnae see why it needs it.” He shook his head as he stood up then leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss. “Dinnae exhaust yourself and set your healing back. We are happy with just clean and dinnae need pristine.”
Before she could get over her shock at that surprise kiss and tell him she was healed enough to work as hard as anyone else, he was gone. She shook her head then wondered where Mrs. O’Neal had gone as she took her dishes to the sink. Seeing that no one had washed up yet, she rolled up her sleeves and got busy.
She frowned as she thought about Iain. He had actually been pleasant to her, chatting as if they were old friends. The kiss had been a light brush of affection. The man had too many moods. Just as she got adjusted to his passion followed by cold anger, he found yet another mood to confuse her with. Emily supposed she would have to find a way to treat each change with calm.
She was wiping dry the last pan when Mrs. O’Neal came bustling back into the kitchen. “Oh, child, you did not have to do that.”
“They were there and needed cleaning.”
“Well, thank you kindly. Had a small emergency with Rory. The child has a deep and abiding fear of wasps and one was flying around too near to him. So had to go to his rescue.”
Emily laughed softly. “I can fully understand the fear of wasps.”
“Nasty devils. So what do you have planned for today?”
“I plan to clean the dining room. Top to bottom just like I did my room.”
“Are you sure you are strong enough?”
“I may need to sit down and rest a minute more than I like but, yes, I am strong enough. It will probably take me all day though.”
“I will polish the floor for you.”
“Thank you.” Emily grinned. “I was hoping you would offer.” She laughed when Mrs. O’Neal gave her a light slap on the arm. “The floor in my room looks wonderful and I have no idea how you got it to look that way.”
“Just let me know when you are ready for it. Best we shift some of the furniture first.”
Emily wiped her hands and followed Mrs. O’Neal into the dining room. One look was enough to tell her they would need to call the men in to move a few things but the two of them took everything else to the parlor. With much complaining about why they had to do this, the men came in and moved the two largest pieces and set them in the hall.
“The room is far larger than I thought,” Emily murmured as she looked over the empty room.
“I can help whenever you need it. Just need to make a lunch and prepare the supper.”
“Then I had best get started.”
She bent down to roll up the carpets and Mrs. O’Neal helped. Then they carried them out to the porch, flipped them over the rail, and Mrs. O’Neal got her rug beater and started to work. Emily went back into the kitchen, got a mop and a bucket of light soapy water, and went to wash down the walls. She hoped she had more strength than she had had the last time she cleaned because this room would not allow her many rests if she was to be done by the end of the day.
She looked around after she had finished washing the walls. “This is going to look magnificent.”
“Huh. I would never have guessed the walls had gotten so dirty. We shall have to have a meal in here when it is not a holiday.”
Emily looked at Mrs. O’Neal. “You only use it on holidays?”
The woman shrugged. “We don’t have dinner parties. So, carpets clean, walls clean, and I have some time before starting the midday meal. What next?”
“The windows.”
Both women looked at the windows and groaned.
* * *
By the time the men had arrived for supper, they were ready for them to put the furniture back. Emily noticed some frowns as they looked over the room while bringing in the furniture. She found she was nervous about their opinion. Mrs. O’Neal’s frown deepened as they did their work and said not a word.
It was not until they were all seated for the evening meal in the kitchen that Iain said, “So we arenae allowed to eat in the room now?”
Emily laughed when Mrs. O’Neal cursed and tossed a napkin at him. “We are eating here because the room needs airing or one ends up tasting the smells of window cleaner, polish, and the like. Everything in there, even the walls, was cleaned and that can make a smell hard to breathe in.”
“It looks nearly as new as when we built it,” said Robbie.
“That it does,” agreed Lachlan. “Even the carpets.”
“Nice as it is, the question is—why?” asked Iain.
“It is what we used to do at home before winter,” said Emily. “It makes everything all fresh so when you close up the house it is nicer.” She placed the potatoes on the table and then took her seat next to Neddy. “Then one sometimes does some of the same things in the spring. Clean off the smell of fires going for days.” Emily looked up to find even Mrs. O’Neal staring at her and just shrugged.
“Ye had servants to clean for you,” said Iain.
Emily heard no real anger in his voice so she just shrugged again. “I do not think that room has been scrubbed down since you built it. It won’t need such a hard clean for a long time.”
Iain looked at Matthew and then each of his other brothers and nodded. “Just how many rooms do ye intend to do that with?”
“All of them. One a day.”
“Weel, ye will tell us when ye plan to do it to any of our rooms.”
“If I must.”
“Aye, ye must.”
Emily bit back a smile as she turned her attention back to her meal. As ever, the men talked of work done and work they thought needed doing. When they all got up to leave she turned in her chair and watched them walk down the hall. Each one of them paused to look over the dining room. Satisfied, she turned her attention to clearing up after the meal.