A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 13

"I was frightfully scared myself when we were attacked," Isobel said. "I was afraid what would happen to us. It was so sudden. You lads were tremendously courageous to go charging after them into the teeth of their gunfire." She patted Lachlan's head. "I will be forever grateful for your daring, lads."

"You're welcome, Lady McTavish," Lachlan said, blushing deeper red than before.

"It doesn't appear ball struck anything too important in his side. I didn't notice anything leaking out of him other than blood and that's good," Ailene said. "With wounds such as these, the main consideration is the possibility of blood poisoning. If he starts to suffer a fever, it's important to check the wound site for any discoloration, red or black streaks extending out from the wound. The most I can do then is apply hot poultices to the wound, hoping to draw the poison out. A doctor might be able to cut some of the diseased tissue away, but I can't do that. I'm not qualified."

She went to her third patient.

"This brave laddie is Tam. He took a shot to the upper arm, in the front and out the back. It didn't strike bone, which is good, else we'd be treating a broken arm and trying to dig shards of bone out of the wound. His wound is the least serious, but we still have to keep an eye out for blood poisoning. You'll tell me if you start feeling feverish, won't you, Tam?"

"Aye, Lady Cameron."

"You can see why we're so proud of the fighting men of Cameron Keep," Ailene said. "Tis bravery like theirs lets me sleep at night knowing the foul enemies we have that would attack women. These three are among the finest and the best. Rest up, lads. We've got to get you ready for the next battle. No arguments. I'll look in on you later."

She waited until they put their heads down before closing the door on the room.

As they walked away, Isobel said, "It's nice the way you praised them for their bravery. It meant a lot to them. You could see their chests swell as you spoke of it."

"Aye. I think it's important to praise all the best things in men, especially when they're young. Courage, honor, honesty, chivalry, all of the things that make them noble and worth loving. Gives them something to strive for. Far better that than encouraging greed, corruption, rape, disrespect, cowardice; all the things we despise in ourselves. You need to know that your contributions are worthwhile and valued, else it's too easy to slip into doing the wrong thing, acting the wrong way, become men like Blackthorne or McTavish."

"You're right. I shall make a point of doing more praising myself."

"Let's see if they're coming along in the kitchen, shall we?" Ailene said.

Much of the food was ready to go when they arrived, so they helped carry it out to the workers outside, giving food first to the lads replacing the current pickets. They were instructed to eat quickly, go out and send the others in for their food. After feeding those outside, Isobel brought food to the patients who were very hungry. She checked each head for signs of fever as Ailene instructed. So far, all appeared well with them. She chatted with each of them as they ate, then collected their dishes to bring back to the kitchen. She grabbed some food for herself as Thorburn was ready to call their meeting together in the dining room. After posting guards at the doors, he started.

"Good work, Bjarkë on the fortifications. They'll do until something more permanent gets established. How are the patients doing?" Thorburn asked Ailene.

"Fine as long as they don't suffer a fever. That would be an indication something's wrong. I thought the doctor would be here before this. I'd like him to look them over."

"Aye. I did too. I wonder if he got waylaid as well?"

"Surely, even Blackthorne wouldn't be foolish enough to hurt the only medical help for miles around?" Stuart asked. "Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face."

"I hope not," Thorburn replied. "But I'm not sure what Blackthorne is capable of doing. We'll muddle on best we can with what we've got, and that's a damn fine healer."

"Here, here," Stuart and Frang said together.

"Thank you gentlemen, but I'm only capable of doing so much. If the lads suffer from blood poisoning, I can't do anything but apply a poultice and it may not be enough."

"They're doing fine so far, Ailene," Isobel said, putting her hand over hers. "I'm sure they'll be fine. You're doing a marvelous job."

"The next thing to decide is when to leave, when and with how many men," Thorburn said.

"We can't really stay," Stuart said, "not and be ready for the Midsummer's Festival. We really should leave tomorrow."

"Agreed. Here's what I suggest. We've got 45 men here now. I suggest that Stuart, Ailene and myself return tomorrow with thirty of the men. We'll leave the wagons here, ride horseback only so we can move fast and don't have to follow the road. We'll leave the wounded here for now, unless Ailene or the doctor, if he gets here, says they need to be moved somewhere else. Bjarkë will stay here with Isobel and Frang. We'll leave fifteen of our best archers. With the temporary fortifications near complete and the men here, you should be relatively safe. Because you're better able to defend the house, I think you can pull your pickets back to within a couple hundred yards, as you won't need as much warning nor will you need so many. Bjarkë and Frang will start training men here. The ones showing the most martial prowess and discipline can supplement your return the day before the festival. Hopefully, coming a day early will throw off any potential attackers. I suggest you leave five of our men here with those who won't be traveling. With ten of ours and fifteen of McTavish's best, you should be okay. The wagons can stay for now. Go by horseback, take a longer route if necessary, stay off the roads where you can. Does that sound reasonable to everyone?"

"Sounds fair to me, big brother," Frang said. "We'll be fine, I'm sure."

"We'll leave in the morning after the funeral services," Thorburn said. "I'm off to bed. It's been an exhausting day. Can someone show me to the room?"

"I can do so, Laird Cameron," Isobel said. "Follow me, please."

She led him up to the stairs to his room and showed him in.

"Where are you sleeping tonight, Isobel?"

"I'm going to be in Frang's room."

Thorburn raised his eyebrows.

"It's not what you think. It's not what anyone thinks. Given I was named Lady of the house and Frang is Laird, it would be demeaning for either of us to be with the servants or sleeping on the floor. He's promised not to take advantage of the situation, and I'll have my own room once you leave. That or he'll be dead by morning."

"I don't believe Frang will take advantage of the circumstances, Isobel, so please, try not to kill him."

Isobel laughed. "I hope not, Thorburn. He knows how I feel."

"You intend to remain alone for the balance of your life?"

"Better than being tied to a pig, Lord. No offense to you or your family. Not to say that Frang is a pig, but men have not demonstrated to me any qualities which I feel entitles them to what's between my legs."

"Aye. I can see why you might feel that way. McTavish was an animal."

"And what about the others he gave me to. For McTavish to treat me like a whore is one thing, but all the other men he owed money to treated me no better."

"But wouldn't a pig be more likely to associate with other pigs, rather than horses or sheep. If the man is not a pig himself, would he not associate with men of higher character and better quality."

"By those standards, why did Frang spend so much time gambling with McTavish and his friends? Does he not get tarred with the same brush?"

"Frang does enjoy his gambling, Isobel," Thorburn admitted. "And I suppose you must associate with gamblers to gamble, but he would not and did not associate with him or his like at other times. Nor, had he been like them, would have cared enough about you and your situation to wager for you instead of McTavish's property. Nor once having won you, done nothing to take advantage of that. It's been a misfortune running into a lot of pigs in your life, but not all men are like that. You ran into more than your share due to McTavish. Don't think most men are like him. Some are, but not all. Give Frang a chance to prove himself."

"I've told him I would keep an open mind, but I'm not likely to change it. Too much damage, I think."

"Tis a sad thing, because you're an extraordinary woman, Isobel, and Frang would be fortunate to have you. Any man would."

"Thank you for the kind words, Thorburn. I do appreciate them. I wish things were different as I would be lucky to be a part of your family. You're all unique, but very kind. Most folks would not take in a woman in my circumstances, nor worried over much about the people McTavish neglected. I will forever be indebted to you all and I love you more than my own family, like brothers or sisters, but I'm afraid that is all it will ever be."

"Good night, Isobel."

"Good night, Thorburn."

She left his room and as she walked past Stuart's and Ailene's room she heard them talking, a low murmur of voices filled with joy and laughter. It would be nice to share so much love and affection with another person. They must have come up while she was speaking with Thorburn. Likely, Frang was also in their room. God! How she hated that room. There were so many horrible memories associated with it. She paused before the door, sighing. Any room but this one, she thought. She knocked and waited for his "enter", then opened the door.

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."

He stood and removed his shirt revealing the bandage beneath. Ailene removed the wrappings around his torso showing the two pads over the wounds. She carefully peeled them away so as not to tear any scab which may have formed.

"Lachlan took a musket ball through the meat of his side. It didn't appear to strike any internal organs, at least I saw no signs of bile or any fluids but blood. There's no sign of blood in his chamber pot." She touched his forehead. "No signs of fever on this one either and the wound appears to be healing properly. I consider this one more dangerous than Tam's due to the location. I'm more concerned with blood poisoning because I've no idea what was struck internally. Lady McTavish is going to make sure to keep a close eye on him until we're sure there's no complications."

The doctor examined the wound very closely, probing the tissue around the entry and exit lightly with his finger. While Lachlan flinched, he didn't cry out.