Chapter 52

Isobel called for the maid and quickly assisted her in clearing the dishes. When she saw the scullery maid washing the dishes, she recalled the image of one of the spies working in the scullery and smiled. She imagined a big pile of broken crockery with a man standing helplessly in the middle of the pile. She giggled again and the scullery maid glanced at her questioningly.

"I was just imagining a large man doing your job and the inevitable pile of broken dishes that would ensue," Isobel explained.

The maid began laughing as well, picturing it.

"Well, they're not much good for more than whacking each other about the heads with their heavy swords, are they?" the maid said. "Unless you can find one worth more than a penny between the sheets."

"I've yet to find one of those," Isobel replied.

"McTavish not much good in that department?"

"He was merely cruel and disgusting."

"Not surprised." She stopped washing and looked at Isobel. "Shocking, the way he treated you. So, the young Cameron's nae much good in the sack either?"

"Oh, I haven't taken another man to bed since parting from McTavish, although the Laird expressed interest in courting me. I'm no longer interested in the part dangling between men's legs. McTavish ended that for me."

"The maids rumored you spent the night in his bed, Lady. Gossip you know," she said.

"Well, it's true we shared the bed, but we remained clothed and he gave me a dagger to use on him should he touch me. I've lost interest in sex. Over six years of brutality will do that to you."

"Tis unfortunate, Lady. The young Laird looks like he might be worth a shilling in bed. I'd not refuse him if he invited me to his room." She peered at Isobel again. "You'd not be offended if he took other women to his room."

"I have no hold on him. He's welcome to do as he will."

"Well. I know a few lasses here who will welcome that news. He's a handsome devil, that one. Course, all the Camerons are good looking. That Thorburn fair makes me quiver, just to see him. He's a big lad, that one. I wonder if his equipment matches the rest of him."

Isobel laughed, saying, "I'm sure I don't know, but he seems to be interested in the widow Mackintosh at the moment. He's invited her to attend the Midsummer festival. I'm sure she intends to remove him from the market if she can. He'd be a good catch."

"Too bad. From what I've heard, the Cameron men remain faithful once they've tied the knot. Never a whisper of scandal about old Jamison, nor young Stuart either. Unless Laird Thorburn's different; once he's married, he'll be unavailable to any other lass. There goes my chance to see if all of him is as big as the outside."

Isobel laughed again. It seemed years since she laughed so much.

"Is it true what they say," the scullery asked. "That the Laird won you in a card game?"

"It's true, I'm afraid. McTavish thought so little of me as wife he wagered me away."

"And the Laird never took you to bed after winning you? I'd have expected him to sample what he'd won at least."

"No, the Camerons have treated me with nothing but honor and respect. Strangers who treated me better than my husband ever did."

"That's a rare quality. I've more regard for the man than even I had before. Sterling quality that."

"I agree wholeheartedly. Well, I'm to bed. I've learned much more than expected the last few minutes, I'm sure. Good night."

"Good night, Lady McTavish. Tis good to have you back. I wish to thank you for continuing to look after us after you left. Twas a bonny thing to do."

"You're welcome."

Isobel went upstairs and found a steamy bath waiting for her as promised. It was close to the fireplace so she wouldn't get chilled as she exited the bath and additional hot water was close enough to the flames to stay hot. The lavender scented, French milled soap was waiting on a small table beside the bath with a small wash cloth, and a large cloth for drying off. Despite no longer requiring privacy, the screen was moved to her room screening the tub from the bed and helping to trap the heat of the fire.

She removed her clothes and laid them over the edge of the screen and sank into the warm water with a sigh. It would be so easy to get used to this. Frang's thoughtfulness in arranging this most appreciated. It's too bad he gambled. She could forgive almost anything but that, although it might mean sharing a bed with a man again. Apparently, the female staff had no problem imagining themselves in bed with him. Too bad she couldn't feel the same way.

Her mind drifted back to the sounds of pleasure emanating from this very room the previous night. Ailene moaning in passion while engaged in sex with Stuart. How lovely her panting whimpers and moans sounded as she climaxed. Isobel's left hand crept down her stomach to her sex while her right hand massaged and caressed her own breasts. She found the button at the top of her cleft and stroked it. She imagined it was another cunt she rubbed as a different hand rubbed hers. She sighed in pleasure. Little by little, Isobel felt her arousal increasing, slowly building until reaching her crest and tumbling over. So caught up with her pleasure, she didn't realize the volume of her cry of release as her spasms shook her body.

Frang lay in the bed next door and heard the splash of water as Isobel entered her bath. He imagined her naked flesh, the water caressing her lovely body. Her hands soaping her breasts. His prick began to stand and Frang reached for it. At least he could satisfy himself tonight without Isobel in the bed with him. He stroked his tumescent cock as he imagined the lovely Isobel washing herself. His cock swelled as he pictured her nude form. He heard her cry of pleasure in the next room and his own cock exploded, his seed spilling from his stomach to his chest as spurt after spurt shot from the tip, suppressing his own groan as he released. As he wiped himself off, he wondered what she visualized as she orgasmed.