A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 33

Isobel and Teárlag laughed. "Unconventional indeed," Isobel giggled, "as are we all. How is your wound by the way?"

Ailene glanced down at the puckered scar on her left arm. "It looks better than it should after you sewed it up for me, for which I thank you. It twinged a bit in the cold months, but I don't feel it at all now." She grew pensive. "It's beautiful out here and I've had so much fun with both of you. We need to get together more frequently, especially as we all live closer together now. I wouldn't mind making this a weekly thing."

"That's a splendid idea," Tearlag said. "We'll arrange our next visit when we go back to the Keep. Perhaps we can hold it at Isobel's and test the sound qualities of her new home, to see if it's as quiet as she says it is."

"We'll have to bring our husbands then," Ailene said, "if it's to be thoroughly tested."

"I have no problem with that," Teárlag said, "do you?"

"Nay," Ailene said, "no problem at all. Good. We'll spend the night and have a contest to see who moans the loudest."

"No fair," Isobel said. "Teárlag wins that contest, hands down."

"Maybe not," Teárlag responded, "I don't have to squeal so loud to convince my husband I'm enjoying myself. He's well aware I am. He makes certain I do."

"I know neither of you likes to talk about what happened in the dungeon," Isobel said. "Frang's told me most of what I know. I need to know if it's true you told Blackthorne you'd have agreed to be Thorburn's whore if he asked you. Did you really say that and did you mean it?"

"Thorburn asked me the very same question that night. I told him I would be his personal whore only and not give myself to anyone else. 'My own personal whore,' he said. 'How nice would that be. Then I'll ask you; will you be my whore?' I told him I most certainly would and I've done my best to ensure he'd never need to seek another."

Isobel and Ailene laughed. "Much better than being his wife, I expect," Isobel said.

"Oh, much better, except he forgets sometimes when he introduces me to people and instead of calling me his wife, calls me his personal whore instead."

"What do you say," Ailene asked, "when he says it."

"What can I say. I just smile up at him and say 'every night'."

"Speaking of husbands and wives," Isobel said, raising her voice, "Meghan can you come her for a minute."

Meghan excused herself from her sparring partner and came over.

"Can I help you, Lady Isobel."

"We were wondering if you and Bjarkë have set a date for your wedding?"

"Aye, ma'am. We're to be wed during the Midsummer Festival. It seemed to be a good day to celebrate."

"Wonderful, Meghan, but I have to know," Isobel asked, lowering her voice, "have you let Bjarkë mount you yet?"

Meghan colored, blushing beautifully. "I did. He's a most persuasive man."

"Tell me if it's true. Is he any good between the sheets?"

"I've not been disappointed, Lady. He was most gentle the first time and he does this thing with his mouth. I don't know if I should be telling you this."

"Oh, we're well aware of the things men do with their mouths," Ailene said, "aren't we ladies?"

"Very much so," Isobel admitted, "but I'm curious how he talked you into sharing your treasures before the wedding."

"As I said, he's most eloquent. It was after he proposed, but he convinced me he had to know if I could be a proper Scottish wife. I had to show him, didn't I?"

The meadow rang with laughter.

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