A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 12

Isobel used the new steel sword Frang provided and was engaged in a series of advances and retreats with him, practicing the skills she'd learned. It surprised him she could withdraw as fast as he could advance. It was an amazing talent for a beginner to the sword. He wondered if her skill in escape was due to her having to avoid the attacks of her former husband. They worked for several hours and both were soaked in sweat when Frang said they finished.

While catching their breath, Frang asked, "Isobel, will you go to the McTavish property tomorrow when we take possession?"

"Will McTavish be there?"

"Aye, he will. He'll be taking personal belongings out of the manor house. We go to make sure he takes nothing not rightfully his."

"I'm not sure I care to see Abner McTavish anymore. I had enough of him when he was my husband. Has he granted me an annulment yet?"

"That's the other document he's providing tomorrow. I understand that the annulment's approved by the church. You needn't worry about McTavish anymore. He can't hurt you."

"Seeing him again is painful enough. I cannot abide looking at him."

"Stuart and Ailene go as well. She'll be administering to any of the ill and Stuart is a much better manager than I am. He'll be checking the status of the property with William and setting up a plan for administering the land and the tenants. I'm sure that Ailene will enjoy your company on the road. We have a point of contact nearby. They provided us with news and requests for additional aid. Perhaps you might stay there until McTavish leaves."

"I would see the tenants and servants again. I suppose I could tolerate one more glimpse of the man knowing it's my last."

"If I'm honest," he said, "I would enjoy your companionship too."

"Thank you. I'm not sure I'll be good company. I shall dread every minute until he disappears from my life."

They sat quietly a while longer, than Frang asked, "You retreat much faster than usual for a new fencer. I wondered about the source of this skill. Was it because you had to run from your husband?"

"I never ran from McTavish. When I tried early in my marriage, the consequences were so much worse if he chased me than if I withstood his anger as best I could. I don't know the reason for that skill. It comes to me what I must do and I do it. I can't say I even think of it. I do what I have to."

"It's a good skill to have. You should develop it if you can. If you can keep an opponent in front of you while retreating, it makes it difficult for them to come at you from the rear. Ailene has the skill as well; not as developed as yours, but getting better. She's more advanced in her sword skills. She's been working at it substantially longer, but you'll be joining the others the next time you practice, which is why you should wear this."

He reached into a bag and pulled out breast plates like the ones that Ailene now wore. He handed it to her and she took it from him.

"You need to make sure it fits properly. Ailene can aid you in making sure it's properly sized. Try it on when we're done so if it needs more work we can fix it quickly."

Isobel looked at it. It had intricate Celtic knots and designs on each of the breast plates. It was far more ornate and elegant than the one that Ailene wore, which was plain steel.

"I hope you don't mind," Frang said, "but I added embellishments to it. I wanted it to be as special as the person who wore it."

"Frang! I'm surprised. I don't know what to say. It's lovely."

"I'm hoping that with your marriage to McTavish ending, I might call upon you as more than a friend. I find you sweet, intelligent, strong, capable and bonny. I had nothing to offer a lady before, but with ownership of the McTavish property, I am more suitable for the right person."

"You're not serious are you?"

"Very serious. I should like to know you better, but with the understanding I may seek your hand."

"I'm flattered by your offer. I truly am, but McTavish ruined me for marriage. I could never attach myself to any man again. There was nothing I found favorable or satisfying about marriage. I would freely die a single woman at this point."

"I'm not McTavish," Frang said.

"I did not think it of McTavish either when I first met him. He was pleasant to start, if old, but I realized I could not expect more of a husband in my circumstances and worked at being a good wife. My perceptions of him transformed soon after we married."

"I say again, I'm not McTavish."

"You gamble. You drink. I cannot thank you and your family enough for taking me in and giving me a home. I did not realize what I might expect, being won in a card game. I thought I might be little more than a slave, beholding to whichever man won me. You treated me with kindness and respect and for that I am grateful. But what if you lost me to another man. What might I expect then? Would they be as kind and generous as you?"

"I would never wager you in a card game."

"You were the one who suggested he put me up as stakes. What prevents you from taking similar action should need arise?"

"I suggested you as stakes because of the way he treated you and I hated it. No woman should undergo such treatment. It looked the most opportune way to remove you from his brutality."

"You have been fortunate at cards and your other games of chance. What happens when fortune no longer smiles on you? I cannot trust a man who gambles. You know how he used me to settle debts he could not pay. He forced me to use my body for his financial gain. It was vile and loathsome. I cannot conceive of ever allowing myself to be in that position again. It left me unclean and dishonored. I'm sorry, Frang. You seem to be a good man. Your family is wonderful and generous, but I dare not risk another marriage. The idea is abhorrent. If my refusal means I'm no longer welcome in your home, I will make other arrangements if you grant me the time."

"I would not ask you to leave because you do not welcome my suit. You may stay here as long as you wish. The only thing I ask is you consider the totality of me as a person and not my propensity to gamble as your sole criteria of judgement as you grow to know me better."

"That is a reasonable request, Frang. I shall endeavor to consider all your qualities. But, I don't wish you to have more hope than a simple denial would allow. Even if you weren't a gambler, I might never contemplate marriage again. You nor I have no control of that desire."

"I understand. I appreciate your honesty."

Isobel curtsied to him as she left. His offer surprised her. Thus far, he'd not attempted to force her to his bed. She sometimes considered herself his property; he winning her in a card game. If he'd demanded it, she doubtless would have acceded to his demands, particularly at the beginning. But he had been respectful and kind, unfailingly polite, and never by word or deed treated her as anything other than a lady. She had looked upon his failure to exploit her as disinterest upon his part, because it now seemed as though he was waiting until she was properly single before pressing his attentions.

As remarkable as that was, she didn't picture herself in another marriage with anyone. It wasn't Frang's fault; he followed a monster who'd disillusioned her about sharing any man's bed again. If he was willing to seek his pleasures elsewhere, she might mull over a marriage of convenience, but Frang did not strike her as someone who would forego his wife's bed. It would not be fair to expect otherwise.

She brought the breast plates into the house and looked for Ailene. She did not find her elsewhere so checked her room. Isobel knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Ailene asked.

"Isobel," she replied.

"You may enter."

Isobel entered and saw Ailene with her shift off, washing the sweat from her body with a cloth and basin of water. Ailene was so beautiful, standing there, washing her naked flesh. Isobel turned away.

"I'm sorry, Ailene, I did not mean to interrupt you, but Frang said you might help in fitting my breast plates."

"If you give me a moment, I'll be happy to help."

Ailene quickly finished up and put on a clean, dry shift.

"Would you like to wash up first?" Ailene asked. "I'm sure you're as hot as I was."

"Thank you, I would."

Ailene sat on the bed while Isobel rinsed herself. Ailene noticed that she'd filled out now she had proper food. The bruises left by McTavish faded and gone. She had a few small scars, but nothing to detract from her overall appearance. As Ailene suspected, her breasts filled out also, so she hoped that the breast plates wouldn't be too small. She hoped Frang had done as she suggested and made it larger than would have been necessary a month ago.

When Isobel finished, Ailene offered her a dry shirt to put on so they could adjust her breast plates.

"You don't want the metal directly on your breasts," she said. "It will be uncomfortable."

Isobel accepted and donned the shirt. She then put on the metal breast protectors.

"These are beautiful, Isobel. Frang encouraged the smith to spend real effort on these. They are much nicer than mine. How do they fit?"

"They fit well. Much better than I might have expected when you first measured me for them."

"Frang kept a closer eye on your appearance than I expected," Ailene said. "Let me adjust the straps so they won't move about."

Ailene fiddled with the leather holding the pieces together until they were snug and would not slip. She turned Isobel so she faced her.

"Marvelous craftsmanship. These are amazing. They look like something Valkyries would wear."

"Valkyries, Ailene? What are they?"

"Mythic warrior maidens who bring fallen heroes to Valhalla, the hall of heroes. Thorburn's mother was a Viking, as is Bjarkë. Thorburn and Bjarkë regaled us often with the legends of their forebears. When a warrior falls in battle, he earns a place in Valhalla, where they feast and drink and fight waiting for Ragnarök, the battle at the end of the world, where the Gods and heroes fight the evil forces who wish to end humanity and all the gods have built. You should ask them to tell you their tales. They are entertaining. Thorburn is named after the bear of Thor, one of the Viking gods."

"Frang told me today he wished to pursue my hand in marriage now I am free of McTavish," Isobel said.

"Oh, Isobel. That's marvelous. We would truly be sisters then, if only by marriage."

"I told him to forget his suit and seek another. I would not marry him, nor any other man."

"Isobel, why not? Frang is a good man; not at all like McTavish."

"He gambles, which is exactly like McTavish. I would not change hands again, passing from one man to the next. Even if Frang is good, what of the next man who wins me."

"Frang would never gamble with you, Isobel. That is not something he would do."

"Aye, as long as he's winning. What if he loses? Can you honestly say Frang would never offer me to settle his debts as McTavish did? To protect his lands and the loss of them by offering me instead?" Isobel asked.

"I do not believe he would, no."

"But you only know Frang, the winner, not Frang the loser," Isobel reminded her. "No man can stay lucky forever. Even if Frang gave up gambling, I find it hard to countenance seeking another man's bed. I received no pleasure in the arms of McTavish or any other man he shared me with. I'd rather die a spinster than allow another man to touch me."

"I'm sorry, Isobel, that McTavish ruined you in that way. Not all men are like that. Stuart is a wonderful lover who gives me nothing but pleasure." As do his brothers, including Frang, Ailene thought. "And what of children? Do you not wish children of your own?"

"Not if it means suffering another cock in me."

"It's unpardonable, what McTavish did to you. I wish I could make it otherwise."

"Speaking of McTavish, I will travel with you tomorrow. I wish never to see him again, but I loved the others of the household. They were kind where he never was."

"I will be happy for your company, Isobel."

Ailene began to understand Isobel's passionate kiss. It was not McTavish alone that he had ruined for Isobel, it was men in general. Hopefully, it would not always stay so, as society did not accept the love of women for women and Ailene could never help her in that regard.

******

"William Craig agreed to go with us to the McTavish property and oversee it's management until we're ready to incorporate it into our own. He will be here at sunrise, ready to ride with us," Stuart said.

"You and Frang can manage that on your own. You won't need me to go with you," Thorburn said.

"How many men will you be sending with us?" Stuart asked.

"As both women will go with you, I wouldn't be comfortable sending less than twenty-five, including Bjarkë," Thorburn replied. "We're also sending two more wagons with supplies, so five with the carts and twenty mounted on horses, plus you and Frang. That should be enough. How goes it with the women's lessons?"

"Well," Frang replied. "Ailene is great; she's been at it longer, but Isobel worked hard to catch up to the others. She practiced with a metal sword today."

"Make sure they both have rapiers available in the carts. It's unexpected. It's like having thirty people, maybe more, due to the surprise factor."

"Are you expecting trouble, Thorburn? We've never sent that many men before," Frang asked.

"Our visits are not usually public knowledge. McTavish has known he would be ready to transfer his property on this day for two weeks. He announced the exchange at your card game the last market day. I expect Blackthorne has heard the exchange is taking place today. He knows the route between our lands. I wouldn't put it past him to interfere in our plans. I'd be ready for trouble on both sides of the exchange, going and returning."

"We'll be ready for any trouble then," Stuart said.

"Aye, hopefully, it's a useless exercise in preparation, but more battles are lost in the preparation than on the battlefield."

******

"Ian, we outnumber them, thirty-five to twenty-seven. Why not press a full attack?" One man asked.

"Lord Blackthorne knows all of these men practice warfare every day before lunch. They are not striplings, no matter how old they appear, but hardened warriors. That man, Bjarkë," pointing him out," is a Viking who fought in dozens of battles. Stuart is an excellent bowman and the other brother has known fighting skills. We will not take them unawares, which might give us a win with a sudden assault. They have outriders both fore and aft of the carts a hundred yards. No, I want thirty of you to attack, see if you can draw the main body of the men farther from the carts. You five," he pointed to his most skilled riders, "will try to sneak up on the rear of the carts while the others are chasing and grab the women. Knock them unconscious if you have to, but take them and ride back to Blackthorne Manor as fast as you can.

"I hope we're far enough away that gun fire won't draw more men from the Keep, but who knows how far the sounds will carry in these hills. Blackthorne will use the women against the Cameron's. We thought Isobel might come, but two is even better, especially the wife of Stuart. You're dressed like bandits. If you should get captured, that's what you'll claim to be. Better to die on the gibbet as a bandit then in Blackthorne's dungeon. You all know what you're supposed to do. Let the first outriders pass and the carts draw near, then make your assault. Fight hard, engage them for several minutes, then lead them away from the carts. That's when you five try to sneak up on them."

"Aye, we're ready."

It proceeded exactly as planned. It began with several muskets being fired. Muskets are notoriously inaccurate, but two men dropped on the first volley, then they rode against the balance, firing pistols, before drawing their swords. With the first shots, the outriders galloped towards the carts and the others formed lines to face the hostile forces. They remained calm and true to their training. They waited before they had visible targets before firing their own pistols, then drawing their swords. The ones in the carts fired their own muskets, before setting them aside and picking up bows. They didn't even try reloading the muskets, being able to engage much faster with arrows than reloading. Cameron's men dropped five from the saddles on their return volley. Both of the women crouched down in the front cart, their rapiers in their hands.

The clang of swords and screams of wounded men and horses was loud as they clashed together. Isobel and Ailene peeked over the rim of the cart to see how the battle was going. The tide was quickly turning to their side after the original surprise and Ailene was glad to see how well the men responded to their training under real battle conditions. The attackers were withdrawing and the Cameron forces were pursuing with only a couple remaining behind to guard the wagons. They were several hundred yards away when one horseman who remained behind fell, knocked from his horse by a shot, and the other clutched his arm as he took a ball.

"Behind us!" Isobel screamed as five men rode up behind them, firing their pistols again as the men in the carts returned fire with their bows. The bowman in their wagon sighed his last and dropped. Four men leapt from their horses into the cart while the fifth went after the bowman in the other cart. Ailene skewered one of them at once, and engaged another who had only a knife out as he attacked. Isobel was holding off one of the the third man armed with a club as Ailene sent her rapier through the second ones heart. She looked at the last one who was approaching cautiously with his own sword drawn as he saw how quickly she dispatched the first two.

Ailene saw how deliberately he approached and taking advantage of his slowness, with a quick stroke to the side, took down the one opposing Isobel. Then both of them were facing him, swords out. Seeing the body of riders riding back hard, he yelled at his partner in the other wagon to run for it. A quick turn to leap over the sides of the wagon gave Isobel her chance and she stabbed him in the back. He tumbled over the back of the wagon and lay still. The one in the other cart made it back to his horse and ran away as fast as he could.

Frang and Stuart were leading their men and Stuart sent a couple arrows after him, but missed with both.

"Stay," Frang cautioned when Stuart looked like he would ride after them. "There may be others. We can't leave the women undefended. This attack was designed to take them."

"We were prepared, thanks to your training Frang," Ailene said. "It worked exactly as we learned."

"I'm so glad you trained," Stuart said. "When I heard their shots and saw how far we'd let ourselves draw apart from you, my heart plunged. I thought you lost."

"Nay, husband. These swords provided us the means to defend ourselves. The man who escaped will tell others the Cameron women can fight even when without our men."

Stuart nodded and said, "That may mean only that they send more after you the next time. Bjarkë, post guards, let's assess our losses and consider whether we should go on or turn back."

They looked after the dead and injured. Four were dead, five more wounded, two severely and might still die. The bowman killed in the final assault on the cart was a man younger than Ailene that she'd faced while fencing. They often paired together, being of similar skill levels and she sobbed to see he was dead.

"We can grieve later, Ailene," Isobel said. "We need to treat the ones remaining or we shall lose others."

"Aye, you're right," she said, drying her face. "Tear up strips of the homespun for bandages. We need to stop the bleeding if we can."