It was only too late that Emma understood how grievous her error was. Rowena might hold thread for embroidery, but her own skills in embroidery might not be as good as Emma’s. Emma knew herself to be a fine embroiderer. Her skill had been begrudgingly praised even by Lady Edith, and that was high praise indeed, and it was a skill not many women in the land had the means or the patience to acquire. Belatedly understanding she should not have flaunted the fineness of her embroidery, she pursed her lips, glancing upon Aunt Royse warily.
Aunt Royse continued to look closely upon it, then she raised her eyes to gaze upon Emma's face. Emma could not keep from blushing, because the woman’s gaze was penetrating.
“Auntie, I…”
Until of late, Emma had never looked upon herself as a deceiver, and at this time she felt loath of lying to a woman who’d been only generous and kind to her.
“Auntie, I need to tell you…”
Aunt Royse stopped her with a wave of her hand.
“Tell me what? That you have soft hands, as no woman on this side of Nottingham ever had?”
Emma opened her mouth to speak in full distress, yet, once again, Aunt Royse halted her.
“I do not wish for you to tell me anything,” she said in a gruff voice, pointing to the child who was playing in his corner. “Just see to the boy. You’re fond of him, no one can argue that. Just as no one can argue you’re a fine embroiderer,” she added, returning her eyes on the embroidery.
She shook her head with a smile, while Emma watched her bemused.
“Arthen is bound to come home earlier today, and I’ve my own home and old man to see to. I will be on my own way now. You will be here tomorrow?”
The way in which Aunt Royse asked the words made Emma’s heart thump fiercely in her chest. The question had been asked in a level voice, yet there was no mistaking the meaning of it.
“Aye,” Emma muttered, feeling her eyes moisten with tears of gratitude. “I will be here. Always. For Robin.”
“Good,” Aunt Royse said in the same level voice as before.
Hours after Aunt Royse had left, Emma tried to still her thumping heart, and focus on the chores she had to finish for today. It seemed Aunt Royse had guessed her secret. Yet Aunt Royse seemed to have become as fond of Emma as Emma herself had grown of the elderly woman who, under a sour appearance, possessed a heart of gold.
A sudden noise in the hall made Emma startle, and as she rushed to see what had caused it, she saw Master Archer had come back home. As it was nearly dark, he had just bumped into one of the chairs Emma had moved to make the room more welcoming. At this moment he was zestfully cursing.
“Welcome… husband,” Emma found herself muttering dubiously, as she began to see to the candle that would make the hall brighter.
Master Archer’s penetrating eyes looked even fiercer and keener in the candlelight as he glanced upon her and then about the hall. He took in the bowls of flowers she had bedecked it with and then, upon sniffing the air, he started sneezing.
“Oh…” Emma muttered, fully chagrined.
So much for her attempt to make the home more pleasant for all of them. Yet as Arthen glared at her, Emma resolved not to care for his sour mood. This was to be her home too, after all, since she could never bring herself to leave the child.
He did not speak, and Emma resolved she should not speak either, since it was plain he was already vexed with her. She saw to their meal in silence, knowing that what she’d made tasted fine this time, as, in truth, she was already becoming more used to this kitchen and to this new way of life. Yet she did not expect any praise for her food from Arthen Archer and, as expected, he did not offer any.
He saw to putting Robin to bed, and Emma supposed she should be grateful for this and for the other chores he did in and around the house, before they were both ready for their slumber. She supposed she should be also grateful that he took the hauling of the bath water upon himself, although, at this time, Emma had already become more accustomed to the heavier tasks she’d found difficult during the first days of her new life.
He let her have her privacy when she bathed, and Emma strived to feel grateful for that too, although, at this time, she had grown much more used to his presence and could not help thinking what it would feel like to have his brazen gaze upon her again while she was fully naked. And she felt brazen enough to linger in the kitchen when he had his own bath. She pretended to busy herself with a chore, but in truth could not help glancing furtively upon him from time to time.
At last she cleared her throat, when the silence around them became too hard to bear.
“I borrowed some coin from Maggie today. I'll need to pay it back soon. But there was no coin in the house I could find.”
The silence loomed even heavier upon her. At present, Master Archer had finished bathing and was drying himself with a linen towel, apparently unconcerned she could feast her eyes upon his beautiful nakedness. His body was indeed beautiful, in a lean, lithe way which suited his tall form. At last, he deigned to glance upon her and his voice sounded steely as he spoke.
“Borrowed?”
“Aye, borrowed. Since there was no copper coin in the house to buy anything with. I looked!”
He let out a harsh bark of laughter.
“And you think I’d keep coin in the house after what you did last time?”