178

Epilogue:

"I'm surprised you still like to come here, Ailene," Isobel said, "I would think it held a lot of bad memories for you."

Ailene looked around the glade where she often came to gather medicinal plants and herbs. She and Teárlag were nursing their babies. Isobel's little boy was starting to crawl and every so often, she'd have to gather him up before he got into trouble, smother his face in kisses, then set him down further from the trouble. Many women were practicing their sword work nearby, including Meghan, and Isobel or Ailene would make some comment, good or bad, on what someone had done. She glanced down at Máiri, pulling hard on her nipple.

"Aye, it's got some bad memories I suppose. But it was the place I first decided I must become a stronger woman, and the day I became a stronger woman, so it's got good with the bad. Speaking of good, how do you like the house Frang built for you?"

"I love it," Isobel said. "It's big, spacious, and I can scream almost as loud as I want without waking the baby. I needn't worry our guests can hear Frang and I having sex anymore. I'm sure you'd appreciate it."

Ailene laughed. "Aye, I'm sure you're right. Do you still couple often?"

"Maybe not twice a day anymore," Isobel said, blushing, "but to greater effect. I'm going to have another bairn. I just found out. This one is definitely Frang's."

"Congratulations, Isobel, I'm so happy for you," Ailene said.

"I'm happy as well. How does Frang do with your son?" Teárlag asked.

"He dotes on him. He's already made him a tiny sword and I suspect he'll be learning to fence as soon as he stands up. He's a wonderful father."

"Frang said he would be, and I'd expect nothing less," Ailene said. "He's a good man, your husband."

Máiri had stopped suckling though her tiny mouth still moved. Ailene glanced down and she was nearly asleep. Ailene pulled her dress over her breast, laid Màiri on her shoulder to burp her, but leaned back on her other arm, soaking in the sun.

"I want to know about your meeting with the King," Tearlag said. "I'm dying to know how it went."

"Aye, me too," Isobel added.

"Well it was all quite ceremonial; a lot of pomp and circumstance. Stuart bought me a new dress. I'll show it to you later. It turns out, the Magistrate wrote a lengthy report on our behalf after Blackthorne was killed. He told the King all Blackthorne admitted to while we were trapped, the many women he'd killed and how he did it. As a result, Blackthorne's wealth and property was all confiscated and returned to the crown but for some land set aside for Stuart and Bjarkë, and his title vacated. Through papers found at Blackthorne Manor, the agents who aided Blackthorne find women in some of the larger cities were found, arrested and hanged. Those who knew about his activities were also arrested and sent to prison, including the butler. They captured Ian, though he was hanged as well. As expected, the King rewarded Lancaster for bringing the matter to his attention, but Lancaster did a very strange and unexpected thing. He asked that his reward be set aside for the families of the victims Blackthorne murdered. Quite a few had been identified through the records of the agents Blackthorne used. He apologized to the King and said he'd been derelict in his duties for not investigating the matter thoroughly when we first brought Máiri's body to his attention. He said he'd learned a valuable lesson and would do better in the future if the King allowed him to maintain his position, but he deserved no reward for failing to do it in the first place. The King granted his request and Rupert, Bess and Rob all receive an income from the fund in Máiri's name.

"Of course the King wanted to meet the woman who'd killed Blackthorne and sent for us. There was a great deal of bowing and scraping, proclamations being read, a bunch of nonsense really, but after, the King asked to see the wound in my arm. I think he wanted to see if I still had whip marks on my breasts, too. He hinted at seeing all the injuries I'd suffered at Blackthorne's hand, but had the grace not to ask. All men are the same really; dogs who'd do most anything to look at a woman's breasts. He offered to engage in a bit of sword practice with me, but Stuart warned him I was an unconventional swordswoman, and would likely throw things at his head, so His Majesty was thankful I didn't take him up on the offer."

Isobel and Teárlag laughed. "Unconventional indeed," Isobel giggled, "as are we all. How is your wound by the way?"

Ailene glanced down at the puckered scar on her left arm. "It looks better than it should after you sewed it up for me, for which I thank you. It twinged a bit in the cold months, but I don't feel it at all now." She grew pensive. "It's beautiful out here and I've had so much fun with both of you. We need to get together more frequently, especially as we all live closer together now. I wouldn't mind making this a weekly thing."

"That's a splendid idea," Tearlag said. "We'll arrange our next visit when we go back to the Keep. Perhaps we can hold it at Isobel's and test the sound qualities of her new home, to see if it's as quiet as she says it is."

"We'll have to bring our husbands then," Ailene said, "if it's to be thoroughly tested."

"I have no problem with that," Teárlag said, "do you?"

"Nay," Ailene said, "no problem at all. Good. We'll spend the night and have a contest to see who moans the loudest."

"No fair," Isobel said. "Teárlag wins that contest, hands down."

"Maybe not," Teárlag responded, "I don't have to squeal so loud to convince my husband I'm enjoying myself. He's well aware I am. He makes certain I do."

"I know neither of you likes to talk about what happened in the dungeon," Isobel said. "Frang's told me most of what I know. I need to know if it's true you told Blackthorne you'd have agreed to be Thorburn's whore if he asked you. Did you really say that and did you mean it?"

"Thorburn asked me the very same question that night. I told him I would be his personal whore only and not give myself to anyone else. 'My own personal whore,' he said. 'How nice would that be. Then I'll ask you; will you be my whore?' I told him I most certainly would and I've done my best to ensure he'd never need to seek another."

Isobel and Ailene laughed. "Much better than being his wife, I expect," Isobel said.

"Oh, much better, except he forgets sometimes when he introduces me to people and instead of calling me his wife, calls me his personal whore instead."

"What do you say," Ailene asked, "when he says it."

"What can I say. I just smile up at him and say 'every night'."

"Speaking of husbands and wives," Isobel said, raising her voice, "Meghan can you come her for a minute."

Meghan excused herself from her sparring partner and came over.

"Can I help you, Lady Isobel."

"We were wondering if you and Bjarkë have set a date for your wedding?"

"Aye, ma'am. We're to be wed during the Midsummer Festival. It seemed to be a good day to celebrate."

"Wonderful, Meghan, but I have to know," Isobel asked, lowering her voice, "have you let Bjarkë mount you yet?"

Meghan colored, blushing beautifully. "I did. He's a most persuasive man."

"Tell me if it's true. Is he any good between the sheets?"

"I've not been disappointed, Lady. He was most gentle the first time and he does this thing with his mouth. I don't know if I should be telling you this."

"Oh, we're well aware of the things men do with their mouths," Ailene said, "aren't we ladies?"

"Very much so," Isobel admitted, "but I'm curious how he talked you into sharing your treasures before the wedding."

"As I said, he's most eloquent. It was after he proposed, but he convinced me he had to know if I could be a proper Scottish wife. I had to show him, didn't I?"

The meadow rang with laughter.