Chapter 15
Ailsa saw Will running toward her and was pleased to see he looked happy.
“What’s to do, Will?” she asked, and then smiled at the tall man standing in front of her.
He wasn’t even panting. Ailsa was not surprised by this; there was not an inch of lard on Will Fearguson’s well-muscled torso.
Every part of him was lean and hard. She knew this from the times they had gone bathing together in the stream.
Sometimes when she was working in the castle, an image of the angular muscles that slanted from his waist past his lean hips and down to his groin flashed into her mind, and she would have to stop what she was doing and stare off into space for a while.
But now that he stood in front of her in the flesh, Ailsa silently berated herself for forgetting how sublimely handsome his face was too.
“Callum an’ I have sorted things out a wee bit.
It looks like the MacNair—Callum’s uncle—wants to find out who m’faither is.
I guess those auld gentlemen ken how things work at wenching taverns better than I do because they swear it’s unusual for a wench to birth only one bairn.
Either they push out one a year…or they are kept by a gentleman for his own personal use.
And it seems as if the latter is what might have happened with Mither! ”
Ailsa was fascinated despite the racy topic of conversation.
“I used to hear me own mither talking about such things with the aulder women who used to be slaves when they thought I was sleeping.”
She took Will’s elbow and began to walk him to where the hidden kitchen herb gardens were. The garden beds and shaded pathways were breathtaking in the middle of summer, with the bees buzzing and the birds singing in the fruit tree branches.
“If the price to buy a wench away from her master was too steep, the man would pay a monthly stipend to keep the woman for his own particular use.” Ailsa blushed.
“But she would still have to open other areas of herself for payin’ customers.
In this way, the wench’s keeper would ken if a bairn was his. ”
She had no idea how it worked but understood enough about the arrangement to be able to say with some certainty, “The woman’s keeper would be the only one permitted to…
put his seed inside her. Apparently some o’ the men who sorted out this arrangement were seafarers or traveling merchants; men too busy to settle down in marriage.
The money they bestowed on the tavern keeper would enable the slave wench to live a relatively comfortable life outside of having to bend her knees for the occasional service. ”
Ailsa gave a little chuckle, and Will laughed too.
“Their main work would be to serve drink an’ flirt with the customers,” she continued.
“Situations like this, however earnestly they were desired, were few an’ far between.
Sadly, many men like variety, and it would take a woman of exceptional beauty and charm to convince a man to pay for her an’ her alone. ”
Will gave this some thought. “I have always been of the opinion that it would be better to come home to someone ye ken rather than to go out lookin’ for it.
An’ the one thing I remember the most about me mither was her tellin’ Callum an’ me over an’ over again to never pay a woman for her love nor drink hard an’ then try to bed her. ”
“Wise words indeed,” Ailsa agreed, “because whenever I drink something stronger than ale, I end up sleepin’!”
“P’raps that’s because ye have never met a man who makes ye want to do more in bed than sleep?” Will said in an innocuous tone, but she could sense his body become tense as he anticipated her reply.
They were in the walled garden now, and the warm conversation made Ailsa feel even hotter than the baking temperatures rising up from the herb and vegetable patches.
She only knew the basics of how a man planted his seed in the belly of a woman and was not really sure if she wanted to know about how a couple might pleasure themselves without carrying the consequences of their love to its fruition.
And the thought of doing something else in bed with Will Fearguson besides sleeping had the power to make her hold her breath to bite back the sigh of longing that rose to her lips.
Will did not notice her rosy cheeks. He scuffed his boot on the dusty path before saying, “In an unrelated way, Ailsa, I heard that ye had a suitor?”
Ailsa stopped short and dropped her hand from his arm. “Who is goin’ around telling faradiddles about me? No man has asked Mither if he may pay his addresses to me.”
She could see that Will wanted to explain.
She stepped back into the shade of a tree, leaning against it with her hands behind her back.
He stood in front of her, and after rubbing one hand down the side of his face as he thought about the words he wanted to say, Will began to talk.
It seemed as if he had been bottling up his feelings for many days; the words fell out of his mouth without check.
“Och lass, dinnae go cold on me for blurtin’ it oot like that.
The thing is this: ye dinnae live at home nay more, an’ ye hold yer own position at the castle.
So, why should a man have to visit Gudrun with his cap in his hand to ask permission to woo ye?
Ye can choose a husband without a parent’s blessin’, surely?
How auld are ye now? Auld enough to make yer own decisions, I’ll be bound!
If ye had a faither, it would be different, but I’ve lived under the same roof as Gudrun for nigh on a se’ennight now, an’ I ken she likes me.
“What’s this I hear about another blacksmith courtin’ ye?
And whilst we’re on the subject, who else is showin’ an interest?
Because I find these reports greatly disturbing.
An’ I’m no’ the only one. Tam pulled me up short for makin’ free with yer embraces down by the river.
So I must ken. Ye swear to me that no other man is makin’ up to ye. ”
All the while he was talking, Ailsa felt her blood boiling. How dare this man prance into her life, turn it upside down, and then act as if he owned her!? And yet, she waited until Will had finished speaking before she gave her answer.
“Och, Will, ye have so much to say, I’m lost to ken where to start.”
She saw a satisfied expression settle on his face and knew he expected her to fall over herself to agree with him.
Ailsa did not know what sort of women lived over on the West Coast of the Highlands, but they must be soft sow hogs to allow a man to talk to them in such a territorial fashion.
Will was so assured of her acquiescing to his blether that he was already preparing himself to listen to her sighs and whispers of endearment.
Well, Master William ‘Coal Blacksmith’ Fearguson would find that she was not the kind of lass waiting for a man to push her over!
Ailsa pushed herself away from the tree trunk and walked a few paces down the garden path with her plaid kirtle swaying around her hips before turning around to answer him.
“Durin’ the course o’ the day, Will, I come into the orbit of many men. Unfortunately, they dinnae make me privy to the thoughts in their heads, so I cannae tell ye if they want to marry me or no’.”
Will opened his mouth to answer her, but she held up her hand to halt the words that were about to come out.
“Would I want to choose a husband without me mither’s blessing?
Nay, because it would break her heart to be excluded from the most important decision o’ me life.
As for Gudrun givin’ ye a roof over yer head, that offer was made in kindness.
Whether she likes ye is up for debate.” Ailsa took a long breath and a few more steps backward before continuing.
“And as for the other rubbish ye’re trying to fleech me with, Will, it has only served to make me reluctant to have any man make up to me… especially ye!”
Then she ran out of the kitchen garden into the scullery, slamming the door behind her.
Ailsa leaned against the door with her back to it, listening out for sounds of pursuit.
She heard the crunch of the pebbles on the pathway as a heavy tread came closer; she wedged her feet on the flagstones in case he tried to push the door in, but after a few moments, the sound of someone walking away was heard.
Ailsa gave a hysterical laugh, unsure if it was of relief or regret.
Will Fearguson wanted to know how old she was?
Well, hopefully he would know now she was too old to want to marry a man who had such little finesse!
Aye, this was the Highlands, where men were hard and prone to make abrupt, straightforward talk, but a lover-like tone did not take much effort.
It seemed as if Will took too much for granted.
Ailsa had no wish to be with a man who thought he owned her just because of a few kisses.
A dominant proposal meant a dominant husband. Ailsa did not need a gypsy fortune-teller and a crystal ball to know that. As far as she was concerned, Will Fearguson could leave for the West Coast right now, and she would not mourn his departure…much.
To take her mind off what had just happened, Ailsa threw herself into her work, but the thoughts kept swirling around in her mind.
Logan Galbraith had been trying to get up a conversation with her since he had come down to the riverbanks on the day of the feast. He was a kind young man and good-looking enough, too, but for all that, Ailsa could not imagine herself married to someone so youthful and approachable for some inexplicable reason.
“Ailsa,” Lady Meria called out to her, “please come to the great hall quickly.”
As housekeeper, it was Ailsa’s duty to make sure the banqueting hall was cleaned and tidied, ready for the next celebration.
Doing this was no small task; it involved more than sweeping out the old thresh rushes and replacing them with new straw.
Boards must be washed and stored, trestles must have their ropes checked for fat drippings that could attract mice and rats, and benches had to be upended and returned to the chambers from whence they came.
The winning sword was already hanging above the fireplace in the great hall, and Master Creel had departed with his prize money.
Ailsa noticed that Laird Callum had slung the sword his brother made for him over his back already; the black leather-bound hilt protruded out of the sheath like a warning sign.
Lady Meria lifted her hand to show that Ailsa must not bother with curtsying.
“Will ye look after Wee Willie for us, please, Ailsa? We’ve heard word about a woman living over in Skail who makes claim she worked at the same tavern as Callum’s mither.
We are ridin’ out to see her now, an’ I’m going with because sometimes it’s easier for a woman to speak to another woman about such things. ”
Ailsa was curious. “Och aye, Lady, but I cannae fathom why she would come out an’ make such a statement out o’ the blue like that.
Are ye sure she is nae just after the reward money that Laird Callum has promised those who bring him word about his mither?
Are ye no’ too heavy with the bairn to ride forth? ”
Lady Meria shook her head, and although this action no longer made her curls bounce on her cheeks like they used to do when she was a young unwed lass, it still had the ability to make her look like the determined young married matron with the cap set tightly on her head.
“I’m strong, and so is the bairn, so dinnae fash.
Wee Willie gave me nay problems either when I was carryin’ him.
Even if the woman is tryin’ to beflum us, I’ll winkle it out afore the men do.
” She gave her husband a loving pat on his arm.
“If the weather forces us to take shelter, please sleep by Willie’s side ’til our return in case his nurse needs to use the privy during the night. ”
Ailsa agreed and went back to her work. She almost forgot about her promise to Lady Meria until a serving maid came up to her before supper.
“Mistress Gun Ainm, Wee Willie’s nurse bade me come an’ tell ye that she’s left the bairn upstairs while she goes to sup.”
Ailsa’s mouth dropped open at this news. “She would never leave the bairn upstairs on his own!”
As she bolted for the tower stairs, she heard the maid shout out after her, “He’s nay bairn anymore, Ailsa! He’ll have seen four springs following this year’s Yuletide!”
Cursing under her breath, Ailsa pelted up the stairs, holding her kirtle high off the ground, her cap almost falling off her head at the furious rate she was going.
Flinging open the nursery door, she was brought to an abrupt stop by the sight of Wee Willie sitting on the floor with his uncle and namesake; they were playing with a set of wooden soldiers together.
The small child did not even bother standing up when Ailsa came in, only saying to Will Fearguson in an observant voice, “Keek how red her face is, Uncle Will!”