“Moibeal fetched it fer me,” he admitted with a wry smile. “I originally intended to fetch it meself, but then it occurred to me ye might keep things in yer chest ye’d no’ like me seeing, so I hunted her down and she helped.”
“Oh.” Edith nodded slowly. Moibeal had chosen her finest gown, one Edith had never even worn yet except during fittings. A deep forest green, it was Moibeal’s favorite. The maid swore it brought Edith’s eyes and hair to life, showing her off to perfection and would make any man fall in love with her. Her choosing the gown for Niels told Edith the maid saw him as a prospective husband for Edith, and approved. That was not something that she’d even considered before this.
“Go on. I promise we’ll no’ look,” Niels said gently.
Swallowing, Edith nodded and turned to move to one of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Half of its branches stretched out over the water, but half were over dry land. Edith hung the gown and strip of linen from one over land that was low enough to reach, but high enough that the clean gown did not reach the ground. Then she turned to glance back to the boys, finding both Niels and Ronson chattering quietly as they unrolled and laid out the furs.
Turning her back to them, she set down the bar of soap and quickly undid and stripped off her gown, then snatched up the soap again and hurried into the water in just her shift. The water was cold at first, and she had to bite her lip to keep from squealing as she hurried out until it was waist deep. Edith then dove under the water and swam for a bit until her body adjusted to the temperature.
The setting was beautiful and Edith usually took her time and enjoyed the peace of the cove and the cool water when she came here. Today she did not. Edith was quick and businesslike as she washed herself and her hair, but the whole time her mind was poking and prodding around the idea of Niels as a husband.
Now that she was thinking about it, the idea was an interesting one. It would certainly solve her worry of ending up in the Abbey. As for Niels himself . . . well, she quite liked him. He was handsome, and seemed clever, and competent. More importantly to her, he was also extremely good with Ronson, showing both kindness and patience. Edith felt sure he would make a good father.
From Saidh’s letters, she knew that Niels had taken over as his older brother Aulay’s first at Buchanan when Dougall had left with Murine. Which made her curious about how he was able to be away so long. But she supposed with so many brothers, another was filling in for him at Buchanan while he was here. At any rate, she knew that Niels would never have a keep of his own, but that didn’t matter to her. She would be quite content to live in a little cottage in the village, bearing and rearing bairns.
That last thought made her glance toward Niels again as she considered the practicalities of getting those bairns. Edith’s mother had been a skilled healer and had taught her a good deal. She’d also taken her along to help as she’d sewn up wounds and helped birth babies. Edith knew the basics of how those babies got into the woman, and now considered having to do that with Niels.
It was hard to imagine what led to the man planting his seed, and how unpleasant it might be. Her mother had told her it was painful the first time, but her friend Jo had shared a bit of her own experience with them and assured them there was a lot of pleasure to be had too. Edith found that hard to believe. Really, it sounded like such an odd act.
Her hand slid under the water and between her legs, finding the spot where the man “plowed the field with his fiddle” as Jo had called it. She poked around curiously, but then shook her head. Nope, she couldn’t imagine wanting a man to do that to her, even Niels, handsome as he was. Still, if it was necessary to get bairns . . .
Realizing that in her mind she already had the two of them marrying and making babies, Edith gave her head a shake. Niels might not be the least interested in her in such a way. She might have to resign herself to marrying some nasty old baron with bad breath or something.
Sighing, Edith ducked under the water to rinse the soap from her hair and body and then straightened and glanced toward the boys. Niels sat facing away from the water, leaning back on his arms with his legs out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Ronson was sitting the exact same way, obviously copying him. The sight made her smile as she hurried out and snatched the linen from the tree to quickly dry herself.
It was only then that she realized that while Moibeal had given Niels a fresh gown, she hadn’t thought to send a new, dry shift too. Which meant she either had to pull her gown on over the now soaking shift, or go without. The decision was an easy one. She was not sitting around in a soaking wet shift and gown.
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.