Chapter 49
Frang was lying in bed, the sheet pulled over him. She looked toward the fireplace and saw a tub filled with hot water and a foot stool with her fencing clothes folded neatly on top. More surprising still, there was a large screen between the tub and the bed, allowing her a modicum of privacy to bathe and dress. She knew McTavish had nothing like it in the house and she helped monitor the loading of the Cameron wagons and knew nothing like it had come with them.
"I hope you don't mind," Frang said, "but I thought you might like a warm bath before bed. It's been a hard day filled with danger and work. I thought it might relax you."
"I'd love one, but where did you ever get this screen?" Isobel asked.
"After it was determined we'd be sharing this room. I thought you might like some privacy. I had McTeague see to the building of it. It's pretty rough. There was no time to do much more than throw some boards together. I wish it was nicer, but it should do the job for which it's intended."
"Frang, thank you. What makes it beautiful is the thought behind it. I'd love a bath and that you would have this built for me so quickly was exceedingly considerate. It's wonderful."
"Hurry, while the water is still hot. I didn't put more water to heat on the fire as you wouldn't have anyone to pour for you, unless I did it. It's clear to me you'd prefer me not doing it."
"Aye, I'll hurry."
She disappeared behind the screen and a few moments later he heard the water splash as she climbed in. There was a contented sigh as she sank into the warmth and Frang smiled. I did something right, he thought.
Isobel found some French milled soap scented with lavender beside the tub. It smelled heavenly, and was so soft against her skin. She quickly soaped and rinsed, and while the water was still hot, sank back against the back of the tub and let the weariness flow from her body. It would be so easy to fall asleep, but then the water would get cold and she'd be chilled, so she enjoyed it for no more than five minutes before climbing from the tub. She dried off, put on her fencing clothes and came to the bed. Frang was on his side facing away from her, and he appeared to be sleeping. She pulled back the covers to climb in and found his dagger on the pillow. Smiling, she set it on the floor and got into bed. She kissed the back of his head and lay back on the pillow.
The walls were horribly thin and in the next room she heard Stuart and Ailene engaged in sexual congress. Ailene's heated moans, her cries of passion as she peaked and Stuarts gasps of pleasure as he spent. She wondered what it would be like to make Ailene moan in pleasure as Stuart did. Isobel had never been with another woman and had no idea how women would pleasure one another. She imagined a tangle of limbs, breathless kisses, frantic fingers and bodies wrapped tightly together. Isobel wondered if McTavish's guests had heard McTavish having his way with her. The possibility of others hearing his beatings, her groans, his frantic fucking and cries of satisfaction as he spilled his seed in her, made her ill.
After their loving, she heard the whispers of love and affection for each other. Not the words, merely a murmur of sound. Their loving noises more caring and affectionate than any which passed through the walls the other way. Frang was breathing as if asleep, and almost, her fingers went towards her cleft to give herself the only pleasure which she'd ever known, but she stopped herself. She could not do so with Frang right beside her, even if he was asleep.
She'd expected more tension and unease due to sharing a bed with Frang. The kindness and consideration of the bath and the dagger on her pillow had calmed her mind, and she felt herself slipping into slumber. She let sleep take her.
The next morning, when she awoke, the bed was empty and Frang gone. Feeling ill, Isobel skipped breakfast and went outside. She attributed her nausea to the tension undergone the last couple days. They were finishing the last of the graves for their fallen. She greeted the others waiting for them to conclude. When the graves were done, the dead were carefully lowered down, wrapped in sheets. Isobel bowed her head with the others. A number of other men from Cameron Keep and not a few of the McTavish bunch also stood quietly, caps in hands, watching.
After their bodies were laid to rest, Thorburn turned to Stuart and asked him to say a few words as he'd know them longer than anyone else.
"Dear Father," he began, "we commend these souls unto Your keeping. These were good men, devout, honorable, who gave their lives in service to their Laird and in protection of our women. We ask You to accept these men into your heavenly host, one with the angels and all the saints. We ask it in Your name. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen."
A chorus of amens followed. Thorburn nodded and they started to fill the holes with dirt. Ailene wept and Isobel went to her to console her. Ailene took the losses of those under her care very deeply.
Thorburn, Frang and Stuart stood together and watched the graves being filled.
Thorburn said to Stuart, "The walls in the rooms are extremely thin. The sounds of your fucking was clearly evident last night."
"Did it disturb your sleep?"
"It might have if I'd gotten to sleep before you started. As it was, it left me frustrated. If it weren't for the solemnity of the occasion, I would ask your leave to sneak Ailene off someplace for a little privacy. Don't know where that would be, as even the bedrooms don't afford much privacy."
"If you think you had it bad," Frang said, "try sleeping next to a lovely woman while your brother is poking his wife in the next room and you can't touch her nor even relieve yourself. It must have been past midnight before my prick settled down enough I could sleep."
"Did Isobel enjoy the bath and the screen you put up for her?" Thorburn asked.
"Aye, she seemed to appreciate it," Frang replied. "She kissed the back of my head when she climbed into bed. Thanks for keeping her occupied while I set it up."
"No problem little brother. Happy to be of assistance. You may want to consider taking some of those gambling winnings and building a new house. One with proper defenses, thicker walls, and fewer bad memories for Lady McTavish, especially if you want her as a wife. I have to say, she's pretty adamant about not getting married again."
"That's an excellent suggestion. I'll speak to a builder in Dervaig the next time we go to market."
"We'd better get on the road soon, Stuart. Speak to your wife about getting ready. I'll see that Bjarkë splits up the Keep forces as we discussed and gets our group ready to go. If you have any preferences on who you want to stay, Frang, speak to him about it."
Further action was interrupted when Bjarkë came up to them and told them the doctor was there.
"About time," Thorburn said. "I wonder what the delay was? Bring him here."
The doctor came hurrying up and apologized for being delayed. "I'm sorry. Lord Blackthorne called me to the Manor yesterday complaining he was poisoned. It was so late when we finished, he insisted I spend the night. I didn't receive word you needed me until I got back to Dervaig this morning."
"Was he poisoned?" Thorburn asked.
"Nay, he wasn't. Just suffering from stomach upset or perhaps gout at the worst. He's fine, or will be if he stops eating such rich food."
And it kept the doctor from being available in the event any of us needed treatment yesterday, Thorburn thought.
"We have three more wounded. Lady Ailene Cameron will show you the others. She's been caring for them thus far."
"Which one is Lady Cameron?"
"The one in the gray dress. Stuart will introduce you to his wife."
"If you'll come this way, doctor," Stuart said, leading him over to the two women.
When they got there, Stuart said to Ailene, "Ailene, this is the doctor from Dervaig, come to take a look at the wounded. Doctor, my wife, Lady Ailene Cameron."
"I understand you've been looking after the wounded, Lady Cameron. Can you show them to me?"
"Of course, follow me."
Ailene led him to the parlor, Isobel trailing behind. All three of the lads sat up when they entered the room. Ailene walked up to Tam first.
"This is Tam, doctor. He took a pistol ball through the arm." She unwrapped his bandage. "The bleeding has stopped. The wound seems to be healing properly. No signs of blood poisoning and he's not complained of fever." She felt his head. "No hint of fever since he might not complain if he had one. I was thinking of letting him rejoin his friends after rewrapping his wound with clean bandages, with instructions he's not to do anything strenuous for awhile."
The doctor inspected the wound closely, felt his head.
"Aye, I'd concur. There's no reason to keep him here any longer."
He watched Ailene rebandage the wound and give him instructions. She reminded him not to engage in strenuous activity, including his martial training and to inform her or Lady McTavish if he felt feverish.
"Thank you, Lady Cameron," Tam said.
She patted him on the head and he almost skipped out the room.
"Lachlan, stand up. Take off your shirt. Let's show the doctor your injuries."
"Aye, Lady."
· 1
· 2
· 3
· 4
· 5
· 6
·
· 10