Page 20 of Falling for Her Highland Steward
“Aye. I have heard good things about him.” He smiled at Erin.
“He is a lovely man,” Erin said, smiling. “A true gentleman in every sense of the word. But be warned—he runs his estate with great efficiency. A general marshaling his troops could not be any more strict. And he drives a very hard bargain, so I am told.”
“Then it is very fortunate that I learned to do the same!” Caillen said grimly. “I went with my father to many livestock markets, and I watched him. The most valuable lesson he taught me was how to walk away from a sale when the price is too high. It is so tempting to go on when you want something too much.”
“So it is easier to lose?” she asked.
Caillen shook his head. “It is a question of whether the seller wants to sell more than the buyer wants to buy.”
“I really do not understand,” Erin laughed. “You either want to buy, or you don’t.”
“Let me explain. If I offer the seller ten shillings for an item, and he says he wants ten and sixpence,” he explained, “I can simply refuse to pay any more and walk away. If, however, he really wants to sell it, he will accept my price, so by walking away, I have forced his hand. He has accepted a lower price, but he has made a sale. We are both happy.”
Erin was intrigued. “I cannot wait to see this strategy in action!” She leaned out of the window and looked ahead with an eager smile. “We are nearly there!”
Caillen watched her animated face for a moment, then smiled himself. Despite the rigors of the day, he had enjoyed it immensely. Then something occurred to him. “What did you dry me with?” he asked.
Erin blushed. “A piece of my petticoat,” she mumbled. “I could not find anything else.
“Thank you,” he answered. “I will have another one made for you.”
Erin shook her head vehemently. “The day a man starts making or buying me undergarments is the day they nail my coffin lid down! Thank you, Cal, but I have many more petticoats.”
Laird Nugent was a small, elderly, jolly man who opened his arms to Erin as soon as he saw her, despite her mud-spattered state.
“Erin, my darling!” he cried, wrapping her in a warm embrace. “How are you doing?”
“As well as can be expected, Kenny,” she replied, smiling at the old man. “I still miss Nairn, of course, but life must go on.”
“Indeed, my dear, indeed it must,” he agreed, then he turned his gaze on Caillen. “And who might you be, young man?”
“This is Caillen Johnstone, my new steward,” Erin told him. “He was recommended by Michael and Father Thomson, and so far, I have not been disappointed in him.”
Caillen shot her a grateful smile then bowed to the laird, who looked him up and down quite openly. “Tell me, Master Johnstone, do you pull a plow? You are a sturdy lad, and I can see by the state of you that you have been doing something akin to plowing today. You look a little the worse for wear.”
Caillen laughed heartily. “It has been a while since I pulled a plow, M’Laird,” he replied. “I have done it before, but not today. Today our carriage became stuck on the road, and our driver and I had to pull it out.”
Erin was astonished and gazed at Caillen with wide eyes. “When did you pull a plow?”
“Our draft horse, Maisie, was very old, and one day, she just dropped dead,” he explained. “I was seventeen. One of us had to help, and I was the biggest and strongest. But I have not been the first to do it. Men used to haul plows long before oxen or horses did.”
“For how long did you have to do this?” Laird Nugent asked curiously.
“Only a month,” Caillen replied. “’Til we found another horse.”
By this time, they had reached a small parlor into which the laird ushered them and offered them wine. When they sat down, Erin asked: “What did you do with your old horse?”
“We ate it,” Caillen replied. “We salted and dried it quite a bit, and since it was cold, we froze some and gave some to our neighbors.” He frowned at Erin’s shocked expression. “We were farmers, Erin, not nobility. We ate what we had and were glad of it.”
“You have a lot to learn, Erin.” Laird Nugent patted her on the shoulder. “No food must ever go to waste, not even in a rich man’s house. Now, you cannot come to dinner like that.” He indicated their muddy clothes. “So I will have a bath sent to your respective rooms, then we can dine. Under the circumstances, I think it would be better if we did not talk business tonight. I am sure that hauling carriages out of ditches tires the brain as well as the body!”
“Indeed it does!” Caillen agreed, laughing. Just then, his back gave a sharp twinge of pain, and he winced.
“Have you hurt yourself?” Erin asked, concerned. “You looked as though you were going to do yourself some serious damage.”
“I am sure it is nothing serious,” he replied, trying to look as though the throbbing ache was not causing him any discomfort.
“Ah,” Laird Nugent said, shaking his head. “I employ an excellent woman to treat all my people. She knows every herb that ever grew on Earth. I will send her to you.”
