Robinton could hardly eat. But eventually the meal was over and he made a leisurely descent to the workshop. And then paced and paced, waiting for Kasia to arrive.
When she did, she was flustered.
“I couldn’t get away!” she said. “Now what … oh!”
He hadn’t been able to think of anything appropriate to say to introduce the gift so he had been standing in front of it. Now he moved aside and, with his best and most elaborate gesture,
indicated it was hers.
“Oh, Robie …”
His name, said in just that voice and tone, was more than compensation for all his hard work. On seeing it, her eyes had widened and then filled with tears as she stepped forward. Almost hesitantly, she reached out to touch it, a fingertip following the line of the neck progressing around the ornamentation down the forepillar before she let her fingers run up the strings.
“Oh!” she gasped again at the delicate sound it gave.
Impatient for her to use it, to hold it on her lap and give it voice, he pulled a chair over to her and practically sat her down, lifting the harp to her knee.
“Oh, Robie, this is the most beautiful thing. I’ve never had such a magnificent gift. Even—’ And she stopped short. He suspected she might have been about to cite something Merdine had given her. She gave him a quick glance and he smiled encouragingly back, though his mouth had gone very dry and he had a sick feeling in his stomach. Then she lifted her hands, as he had seen her do in his mind during the long hours of woodworking, and struck a chord. He had tuned the harp very carefully so that the chord sang tremulously on the still air of the empty workshop. “This is not just a birthing gift, is it, Rob?” she asked, turning to him, her wide eyes soft.
No shadows. When he didn’t – couldn’t – answer, she said in the tenderest possible tone, “Is my eloquent harper wordless for once?”
He swallowed and managed a sharp nod. “Absolutely,” he said, opening his arms in his helplessness, knowing that his smile must appear inane.
Her lips curved in one of her gentle and delicious smiles. “Oh, Robie,” she said, turning her head from side to side, a look of wonder and joy on her face. “Haven’t I done my best to show you how I care? Even braving the sea to fish so we’d be together?”
His paralysis ended at her gentle reprimand and he pulled her into his arms. Her arms went about his neck, her hands catching in his thick hair as she pulled his head down. “I want a proper kiss from you now, Harper Robinton! Not a polite birthday peck.”
He was as properly improper as he dared. Only she dared more and, before he could fret about any inadequacies as a lover, she was responding in such a way that it fuelled his ardour out of bounds.
Always, afterwards, he remembered that moment any time he smelled the pungency of varnish or well-seasoned wood.
In the loving aftermath, Kasia told him that Juvana approved and would support her choice with their parents.
“How does she know?” Robinton demanded, startled to think that Lady Juvana had been discussing him with Kasia. And possibly with Lord Melongel.
“Because I’ve been filling her ears with Rob this and Rob that,” Kasia said, grinning at his reaction.
Kasia was more than old enough to choose for herself, and her parents had sent her to Tillek Hold so that she would have more choice – and fewer memories of the man she had lost.
“Am I at all like him?” Robinton asked, a question which had run circles in his head for a long time.
She regarded him with a little smile on her lips, tracing the line of his mouth with her finger. “Yes, and no. Not in looks. Merdine hadn’t your inches: as well for a seaman who’d be clouting his head all the time on beams. He was good-looking, but your face has far more character. You’ll grow handsomer as you age … and I’ll be there to keep the roving women away.” She drew his head down to kiss him. “You’ve lovely bones!” “Bones, the girl says.” Robinton burst out laughing in surprise.