He evidently made plenty of marks, to judge by the fine clothing he wore: even what he wore when bringing reports to his Lord Holder was better than Robinton's best Gather wear. And during the evenings, when Rob might have monopolized her company, he had to play or sing with the other harpers. He only had one or two dances with her, when Mumolon or Ifor took turns. The other men had the whole evening in her company, with no responsibilities.
It was frustrating, but he worked on the harp. Her birthing day was in early spring and he wanted it ready by then, but he had to restrain himself from slighting any of the steps required in its making.
The glue had to harden on the sound box; he had carved the pegs and set the sharping blades, which would permit modulation and even changing keys. He intended to tune the harp to C major.
He had to wait for the strings to arrive from the Fort SmithCraftHall, which specialized in extruding the fine wire needed. Still, he spent less time working on the harp than he did looking at it – and thinking about how it would look in Kasia's lap, being touched by Kasia's hands.
Everyone in the Hold seemed anxious to celebrate Kasia's day with her, and Robinton desperately wanted to have privacy when he presented her with the harp. He was beginning to think that such a gift would establish the depth of his feeling for her. Which was what it was supposed to do, really. It was scarcely on a level with the casual gifts that were generally presented on a birthing day.
Presenting it to her publicly would leave him open to teasing, as well as speculation about his affection for her. Affection? His love! And the harp was a fine one. He gave himself that much credit. He did do good work – especially when his heart was in the doing.
So that he did not appear empty-handed in public, he had found some early berries in the woods above the Hold. She made much of his thoughtfulness and exclaimed a lot over the pretty basket he had woven to hold them. He managed to get a private word in her ear because, fortunately, it was customary to give a birthday girl an embrace and a quick kiss – if you were so inclined. In Robinton's mind, there were too many so inclined. He watched to see just how long she permitted the familiarity and rather thought she had clung just a moment longer to him. So he took that chance to murmur in her ear that he had something special to give her but not in front of everyone. Could she meet him in the workshop?
She nodded, her eyes dancing, and murmured, "After the meal," before releasing him and turning to accept other tokens. For she was popular. There were presents from everyone, including a lovely comb which Vesna had scrimshawed on the Northern Maid for giving her the moral courage she needed in getting her second mate's ticket. There were the usual lengths of cloth, and scarves and bracelets. Valden had presented a slim little belt knife with a blue leather sheath. The most impressive gift was from her parents: a beautiful Gather outfit in a shade of delicate spring yellow, with stiff silver thread embroidering neck, hem and cuffs. Various sea captains had obliged by passing it on around the continent on the Great Western Stream from Mardela Hold in Nerat until it arrived at Tillek, three days before her party. Juvana had kept it hidden in her closet.
"You must wear it tonight," Juvana said.
"Not tonight," Kasia protested, her fingers running along the stylized embroidery. I'll save it for the Gather."
"Well, just try it on and let's see you in it," Juvana insisted.
"Later, not now," Kasia said firmly and arranged her presents in a pile before sitting down to the midday meal. As was customary, all the food offerings were known favourites of hers.
"Everyone's making such a fuss over just a birthing day," she said, colouring with embarrassment.
"But it's your birthday," her oldest niece protested.
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.