In fact, she seemed intent on leaving him behind as she careened into the hall and then around to the first flight of steps. They had two more to go before they were on their level. She was half a step ahead of him as they reached the top landing, breathless with laughter and the climb. She turned, grinning at her success and he paused on the next-to-last step – their faces on a level. He didn't think – he just caught her about the waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her.
He hadn't known he was going to before he did, and as she leaned into him, arms about his neck, he was thrilled that she didn't reject him. It was the sweetest of kisses but far too short because, hearing steps coming down one of the halls, they broke apart. Kasia whirled, flashing him a brilliant smile, and dashed off to her apartment, leaving him more breathless than ever but surely the happiest man in the Hold at that moment.
All during his bath, which he was half tempted to shorten so that he could search Kasia out that much sooner, he fantasized about their possible future together. After all, a journeyman harper who was going for his Mastery was a good match to make, even for a Holder's Blood. And his father had Telgar Blood. They couldn't fault his mother's achievements as a MasterSinger. He could always make instruments for extra marks. His contract with Tilek Hold was fair enough for a single man; he felt he could rely on Lord Melongel's basic sense of fair play to make an adjustment for an espoused, especially one espoused to kin. He could finish his contract here, and make certain his next one improved enough to support a spouse.
Since Kasia was Blood kin to the Lady Holder, they could expect to receive larger quarters for an espoused pair, and there were rooms available. He chided himself for such thoughts on the one hand and, on the other, relished the joy of having them.
Since he suspected Kasia would take her time bathing off the brine and fish oils, he forced himself to be as thorough. The colour of the water and the thin slick of oil suggested that he was wise to soak. His hands stung a bit from the soap-sand, and he'd several broken nails as well as various scrapes and nicks. Nothing that wouldn't heal. Salt water was good to clean wounds, even little ones.
So he tended to his appearance and nails as he dressed in clean, warm clothes. He must see about getting some new things. These were all old: serviceable, but not exactly stylish. Clostan, the Hold's healer, was always so well turned out that he might ask the man which tailor he used in Tillek. Clean at last, Robinton became conscious of the reek from the carisak of dirty clothing. He'd take it down to the washroom himself rather than have it contaminate his quarters. After all, maybe Kasia... and he cut short that delightful thought, although the prospect might be possible.
He was apologizing to the old auntie in charge of the laundry drudges for the state of his clothes and she was grinning toothlessly up at him, when light steps on the stairs alerted him to Kasia's arrival with her bundle. Their eyes met, and he was sure he was blushing at the intensity of her gaze. That her cheeks reddened, too, was an excellent sign.
'Juvana wants to hear how we fared, Robinton,' Kasia said, almost formal in manner. She passed over her clothing to the auntie, all too casual, and the woman's grin broadened as she looked from one to the other.
'Well, by all means let us relate our adventures,' he said as blandly as he could, and taking her arm in his with a grand gesture – at which the auntie cackled – he led her up the stairs.
This time they did not race but walked slowly, eyes meeting when their legs brushed as they climbed the steps. At the top, Robinton was almost trembling. Oh, he'd sung lover songs and knew the various degrees of loving as well as the next harper. But to be himself immersed in precisely what the lyrics described was another experience entirely. To see Kasia responding to him was an even greater miracle.
They spent an hour with Juvana and helped her to sort mending yarns, allowing their hands to meet in the process. Robinton knew how to spin out a good tale about his inadequacies on board a working ship, while Kasia loyally corrected him with her version of the mattel
'I have considerably more respect for fishmen now, I assure you, Lady Juvana,' he said when the bell sounded for the midday meal.
'D'you think Gostol will give Vesna her ticket now?' Juvana asked Kasia as they made their way down to the dining hall.
'I know he was pleased with her docking ... stylish and accurate,' Kasia said after a pause to consider her answer. 'And she certainly knows her craft. Is she after the new hull in the shipyard?'
'Which joumeyman isn't?' Juvana said in a droll tone. 'Now you're back, will you help me with fitting the children's new clothes?'
'Did you get the borders all done?'
'I didn't waste my time while you were having fun sailing ...'
'Fun?' Kasia protested, giving her sister a stern look. 'In the weather we had?'
Robinton felt left out of this exchange, but told himself not to be silly. Just because he was besotted with Kasia, it didn't mean he could expect her undivided attention. And she might not wish to ascribe more to that quick kiss than the whimsy of the moment.
Gloomily he added to himself that it might only have been the elation of getting home. There were other men, as he'd told Gostol, who showed a keen interest in Kasia. What did he, a journeyman harper, really have to offer a girl of good Blood?
So he plunged back into the work he was contracted to do and tried not to think of ways to intercept Kasia in her daily rounds. But it was hard and they did seem to keep meeting – in the halls, on the steps, certainly in the schoolroom and for meals. She accepted his company at table as readily as she accepted that of Valden, who was soon to take over a new hold created in the forested lands above Tillek – which Robinton devoutly hoped might be too isolated to attract a socially active girl. Or Kalem, who was a journeyman shipbuilder with a cot of his own up the hill, so that Kasia would be near her sister. Emry was exceedingly handsome and managed one of the Storage and Shipping holds for Melongel.
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
