A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 21

Frang and Isobel's relationship begins to strengthen. Ailene and Isobel work hard to become more proficient at weapons. Another spy is found and appropriately punished. This chapter contains oral sex and regular intercourse for those who care about those things. Things are starting to heat up as we approach a conclusion. Please enjoy.

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Ailene woke up the next morning to the unmistakable sounds of a woman panting and moaning preparatory to her climax. She glanced at the window and noted the sun had not reached the Eastern sky, though it was lighter. She smiled, happy Isobel had found someone to love who also loved her. She finally knew the joys of a good man who knew well how to please a woman. She thought of going back to sleep briefly, but this would be a busy day and she decided it would be best if she arose now and prepared for it.

Before they retired last night, Frang, Isobel, Bjarkë, and Cyrus McTeague discussed who they could most trust, who they were sure they could not, and everyone else in between. Ailene sat in on the meeting, though she had nothing to contribute, knowing none of the players. They decided there were five people who absolutely had to go. The list of people who could be completely trusted was limited as well. The five new ones who accompanied Ailene, most but not all of the ten who'd come with Bjarkë and Frang. Isobel and Cyrus believed that four others could be safely relied upon. All others went into the "to be watched until proven otherwise" category. Bjarkë and William Craig would be dismissing the five safety risks today. They were speaking to the others they trusted about keeping a close watch on everyone else. Anything, no matter how small was to be reported. Isobel thought Mrs. McGillivrey was as trustworthy as anyone else they had in the house, so Isobel would be asking her to keep an eye on the household staff.

Ailene heard Isobel cum in the next room, Frang grunting along with her. He really needed to have a sturdier house. Ailene hoped her coupling with Stuart wasn't as obvious as this was. At least someone was having sex, even if it wasn't her.

She got up and washed, donning her fencing clothes. It was going to be tough training from here on out. Frang told her he expected her to be able to successfully beat Stuart with swords in a month. Ailene spent an hour last night squeezing her seed bags, trying to strengthen her hands and wrists. Her palms were still painful from the blisters she'd popped yesterday, but she would not quit now, no matter how much they hurt. She took some gloves to wear during training, then went down to eat.

Isobel and Frang came down, both with wide grins on their face, while Ailene ate her breakfast. She smiled up at them, glad for their happiness.

"You need a sturdier house, Frang," Ailene said. "Sound carries quite well in this one."

Isobel put her hand over her mouth. "You heard us?" She asked. "I'm so sorry. I was trying to be quiet."

"Don't worry. It's not as though we haven't all heard it before," Ailene laughed. "Knowing how thin the walls are now, I'm sure Stuart and I made too much noise the last time we were here."

"Aye," Frang said. "It was quite distracting given I couldn't do anything for it; Isobel laying at my side and untouchable. Even self gratification was out of the question. The next time you both stay the night, we can have a contest to see who makes their wife squeal the most."

"Frang!" Isobel exclaimed, slugging him in the arm. "You disgusting brute! You'd bet on anything, wouldn't you?" She was smiling as she said it. Was it just a couple days ago she wished she was so comfortable in a relationship she could engage in banter such as this?

Ailene was laughing. "Well if it was a contest; I think Thorburn and Teárlag would win, no question. I didn't know you could scream so loud and it not be from pain."

"The woman has no shame," Isobel heartily agreed. "I would die of mortification, should I ever squeal as loud as she did. Though if I could scream without concern of people hearing me, Frang might give Thorburn a run for his money. You saw how badly I damaged my hand to keep from informing the whole Keep I was climaxing."

Isobel sat down next to Ailene and put some cheese on bread. Ailene hugged her.

"It appears all three Cameron boys were raised knowing how to please a woman," Ailene said in a mock whisper, loud enough for Frang to hear. "But don't tell them I said so. They shall all get swelled heads and be impossible to live with."

Frang laughed. "Too late. On the brighter side; every time I make her pant, squeal and moan in pleasure, my head swells a little more. At the rate we're going, I expect my head to burst within the week."

Ailene and Isobel both laughed.

Suddenly, Ailene grew silent and tears began flowing down her cheek.

"What's wrong, sister? Why do you cry?" Isobel asked.

"I thought of Màiri suddenly. How she will never know the joy we've felt, the pleasure of a man, the bittersweet taste of love. Never to laugh again, or cry, her life snuffed out so young. It's not fair and I'm sorry it's so easy for me to laugh after the torture and death she endured. I hate the bastard who took all of it away from her."

"Aye," Isobel said, squeezing her friend, "I see what you mean, but don't you think our joy and laughter is a reaffirmation of life? A negation of her short life. And each time we laugh, and smile, and cry, and take pleasure in one another's company, we're denying death? We're refusing to let it win; let the Blackthorne's of the world win? Every time we laugh, we laugh for the others who can't laugh anymore; and cry for the others who can't cry anymore. By taking joy in our lives, and living the life God gave us, we refuse to let evil and death win."

"So you believe I laugh for Màiri when I laugh, cry for her when I cry, and take pleasure for her when I'm with Stuart?"

"And for all the others whose life ended too soon. It's our duty to live our lives to the fullest for those who could not. It's the only way not to be weighed down by all the misery existing in the world. Never again will I live life trapped in misery. I vow to live each day to it's fullest. Note this Frang. I'll not live a life bogged down in despair any longer. If you don't treat me as I should be treated, I'm gone. No more suffering as I did under McTavish. Life is too brief to waste it in misery."

"I understand, my Lady," Frang replied.

Ailene stared at her friend, considering her words. "Tis a rare woman you've chosen for yourself, Frang," Ailene said.

Frang put his hand on her shoulder and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Aye. I know it and thank our Maker every day for bringing her into my life. She's unhappy I'm a gambler, but if I were not, I would never have met her, nor been able to take her from McTavish."

Isobel considered what Frang said. It was true. His gambling was the thing she found most detestable about Frang, but without his propensity to wager, she'd still be with McTavish. The Lord truly did work in mysterious ways. She laid her head to his waist as he stood munching on some crusty rye bread and cheese.

"I'd not considered it, my Lord. Gambling has given me both the most pain and the most pleasure I've received in my life."

Frang sat beside her and ate breakfast, hurrying because they'd taken so much time this morning. When they went outside, Frang's students were waiting and Bjarkë's were hard at training. Frang worked with all the fencers the first couple hours, his other trainees quickly seeing Ailene was the most advanced student amongst them. After three hours, Frang sent the others to their normal tasks, while continuing to work with Isobel and Ailene. When they broke for lunch, Ailene suggested Isobel stop for the day so as not to tire too much. Isobel agreed she might need to go slower due to her pregnancy. She was tired.

After lunch, Frang and Ailene returned to training, Frang working her unmercifully until she was ready to collapse. Back and forth, over and over, he attacked her, expecting her to fend him off, then reversing, to see if she could get past his guard and get a touch.

Rather than return to training after her meal, Isobel met with Mrs. McGillivrey to discuss all their concerns regarding Blackthorne and the need to be watch for possible spies. She informed her of Jamison's poisoning and asked she keep close watch on the household and report any suspicious activity to her or Frang. If they weren't there, she could inform Bjarkë or Cyrus McTeague, but no one else. Isobel wanted a substantial portion of her day devoted to looking about for anything out of place or uncharacteristic activity by any of the servants. She even mentioned Màiri's death as Isobel wanted her aware of how dangerous Blackthorne might be, particularly towards women.

"Aye, my Lady. I'll keep a close eye out for certain. There's a maid I've thought was lolly gagging, but mayhap it's more sinister than mere laziness."

"Thank you, Mrs. McGillivrey. I appreciate your diligence."

Isobel proceeded doing all the other things required in running a large household. She knew they were going to Market Day on Saturday, so she gathered a list of supplies needed purchasing as well as talking to Mr. Craig about what they might sell at market. William Craig believed they had more to sell than expected. People were beginning to believe the Cameron's would provide if difficulties ensued, so they hoarded less than their custom under McTavish.

When Ailene finished her training late in the afternoon, she dragged her way to her room. She was completely and utterly whipped, in a state of total exhaustion. She was extremely grateful to find a tub and hot water Isobel arranged for her. Ailene stripped off her sweat soaked clothes and slowly sank into the steamy water, letting it soak away the aches, pains and weariness. If it weren't for the fact Ailene was so hungry, she could easily fall asleep in the hot water. Ailene soaked for a half hour before getting up to eat supper. Isobel and Frang were already eating when she arrived.

"Thank you for providing the bath, Isobel. I was so tired, I could barely move. The bath helped immensely. I'm sure I shall still sleep like the dead tonight, but at least I won't fall asleep in my soup."

"You're welcome. Frang still manages to have a bath waiting for me when I retire. I do enjoy it so."

"My, my, dear. You have him very well trained given how little time you've been wed," Ailene teased.

"I didn't have to train him. He did it on his own," Isobel replied.

"Speaking of training, you'll get used to it, the more you do it," Frang said. "In a couple weeks, you'll have energy to spare when you're finished."

"If I survive the next couple weeks," moaned Ailene. "You're a slave driver."

"I'd like to have another meeting after we eat," Frang said. "Bjarkë and Cyrus will join us. I think it's important we establish some rules to abide by until the Blackthorne issue is resolved. Obvious ones like not going anywhere alone, but others as well. Thorburn is right. We need to set you both up with guards, someone who stays with you constantly."

"What, you mean to follow me around all the time?" Isobel asked.

"Yes. My father was murdered in his own house by a trusted servant. Granted, it was poison, but it didn't have to be. It could easily have been a knife in the ribs. I don't want to have the discussion now, though." Frang glanced around the kitchen. At least six other people were currently within earshot. His meaning was clear.

After supper, they had a meeting in the parlor again, with guards at the doors. Frang insisted that both Isobel and Ailene would have a guard with them or outside their door at all times, even while they slept. Bjarkë agreed to set up a schedule with their most trustworthy people who would be with them constantly in six hour shifts. Frang directed it would apply even when Frang was in the room with Isobel because if he were asleep or otherwise "busy", the guard would be more alert and prepared for trouble than he would. Isobel complained it would give them very little privacy, but Frang reminded her it would be adults standing guard, not children and they would be familiar with what took place between husband and wife.

"Get used to them being there," Frang said when Ailene wanted to protest as well. "Even on the training grounds. Having someone watching your back while you're otherwise engaged in activities which focus your attention away from your own safety is critical. You already know what could happen to you if Blackthorne somehow grabs you. I'd not see either of you lying on some table like poor Màiri was. I'd never forgive myself, nor would Stuart if it were you, Ailene."

"The lad's right, my ladies," Bjarkë added. "Hopefully, it won't be for long, but until that bastard's brought to justice, extra precautions are merely prudent."

"Aye, I suppose," Isobel said. "I'm not happy about it, though."

"None of us are," Frang said. "People shouldn't have to worry about things like this."

There was a knock on the door and Frang called out, "Enter." A guard stuck his head through the door and said Mrs. McGillivrey was asking to speak to them and she had another maid in tow.

"Let them enter," Isobel said. "She wouldn't bother us if it weren't important."

Frang bid the guard to let them pass and Mrs. McGillivrey came in dragging a young maid behind her by the ear. She was struggling to get away until she was placed before them. At that point, she stilled and looked down at the floor. Mrs. McGillivrey let go of her ear.

"Pardon me, your Lordship. Lady Isobel asked me to keep a sharp eye out for folks what appeared to be spying and I found this lass poking about upstairs in the room over this one. It appears sound carries up the chimney to a room upstairs. She had her head stuck in the fireplace listening."

They all looked at one another. Was it already starting?

"Why are you spying on us?" Frang asked. "Have we offended you in some way?"

She said nothing.

"What's your name, girl?"

Again, nothing.

"She's named Meghan, Laird," Mrs. McGillivrey said, smacking the girl's head as she did so. "You answer your Laird, lassie or I'll cuff your head myself."

"Meghan," Frang said, "do you know what the penalty for spying on us is?"

Finally, she replied. "Nay, Laird."

"Fifty lashes with the whip. It will take the skin right off your back. If you survive, doubtful, a small girl like yourself; you're discharged and likely unable to find another job as a maid. Most women end up prostitutes, though it will be awhile before you're able to lie on your back for any man to fuck you. If a man even wants to fuck a woman who's back is so badly scarred. Aye, at least you'll be cheap enough for the field workers, fisherman and dock workers."

As Frang spoke, she grew whiter with each word. When he finished, she fainted dead away on the floor, no one fast enough to catch her.

Isobel said, "Could you bring some cold water and a clean rag, Mrs. McGillivrey?"

"Aye, Ma'am." She went running off to the kitchen.

"Would you really whip the skin of her back?" Ailene asked.

"Nay, I merely hoped to frighten her into speaking," Frang replied.

"It may have worked if she hadn't fainted, husband. I want to tell you everything I know," Isobel said.

Frang smiled at her. After Mrs. McGillivrey returned, Isobel took the cloth and dipped it in the water. She started wiping the girl's face until she opened her eyes.

"Bjarkë, stand her up," Frang ordered. "Don't let her hit the floor again."

Bjarkë picked her up like a rag doll, turning her to face her Laird. Frang looked her over, as if studying some new insect.

"I suppose we could begin carrying out her punishment now. Bring her down to the barn and lay the whip to her," he paused, "or perhaps she'd like to do something to lessen her punishment."

Meghan began crying and screaming, "Anything, Laird! What must I do? How can I make my punishment less?"

"You can begin by speaking. Why are you spying on us?"

"I didn't want to do it. When first asked by McTavish, I said I wouldn't. About a week ago, a man came to me while I was home. He said he had a message for me from Lord Blackthorne. He pointed to my little sister and said if I didn't spy on you, men would come and take her away and she would be tortured and killed and her death would be on me. I only did it to protect my sister, Laird. God's own truth."

Frang turned to Cyrus McTeague. "Does she have a little sister, McTeague?"

"She does, Laird."

They all looked at one another again. "My God!" exclaimed, Ailene. "Will the man stop at nothing?"

"Apparently not," Frang said. "It's why I want no more argument about having guards around you all the time. Bjarkë, see to it. Twenty-four hour protection for both of them. Post a guard every time we have another meeting in the room above us where this one was found. I'll not have anyone else listening in to our conversations."

"Yes, nephew. I'll see to it."

Frang regarded Meghan again. "What am I going to do with you?" He wondered out loud.

McTeague said, "I'm not wholly sure I could remain loyal were someone to threaten my wife, Laird."

"That's the problem," Frang said. "We all have weak points. The only ones who may not would be those with no family in the immediate area. Anyone can be turned against us."

"If we dismiss her, will Blackthorne still go after her sister, or could he possibly go after her?" Ailene asked.

"I've no idea what the man might bloody well do!" Frang exclaimed. "I'm at a loss as to how he thinks."

They were all silent for quite some time, thinking. Meghan wondered if she'd done enough to reduce her penalty. Even if it were 25 lashes, it would still be bad, but she might survive. When the silence went on, she began to worry she hadn't done enough.

Meghan coughed. "My Lord," she said, "have I done enough to lighten my punishment. Even half I might survive, Laird."

He looked at her, still held in the rigid grip of Bjarkë.

"We're not going to lash you, girl." He thought a minute more, then asked, "Have you heard what happened to the maid, Màiri, who was taken by Blackthorne after she stole from us?"

"Nay, Laird. I've heard only the rumors, sir."

"Ailene, why don't you inform Meghan what happened to her, to the last ugly detail."

Item by item, wound by wound, Ailene explained every injury suffered by Màiri. Frang watched her face become increasingly pale and became concerned she might faint again, but she managed to remain upright, though by the time Ailene was done, her face was sheet white and a mask of horror. Mrs. McGillivrey had not heard the full details herself and had to take a seat as the torments were itemized in graphic detail.

When the full litany had been gone over, Frang said, "Do you understand all this was done to an innocent young girl who had done Blackthorne no wrong, but merely might have knowledge he wanted. Long after he had wrung the smallest bit of information from her, he continued to torture her for more. I suspect he has a deep seated hatred of women and a love of causing pain unknown to any but the foulest demons of hell. My problem is what to do with you. If I let you go, will he take you and try to wring more information from you as he did Màiri? I'd hate for it to happen, even if you deserve it for your disloyalty. I'm also concerned for your little sister. What will happen to her if Blackthorne doesn't believe you're cooperating? She's an innocent in all this."

Meghan stood with her head bowed, thankful she wasn't going to be lashed, but still concerned what might happen if she was dismissed. The story about what happened to Màiri had scared hell out of her and she worried Blackthorne could do the same to her. Why did Blackthorne choose her to spy? Was it only because her little sister was such an easy target?