"I was cleaning out his earholes because the fool wasnae heeding what I had to say. That wasnae anger, it was discipline."
Knowing this game could continue for a while, Ilsa decided to return to the keep for her sons would soon be demanding a meal. Gay fell into step on her right and Lady Gillyanne quickly joined her on her left. A brief glance back at the men revealed that the three MacEnroy brothers were too entertained to leave.
"Your family reminds me verra much of my own," said Gillyanne as they entered the keep and started toward the nursery. "The Murrays are a large, boisterous lot and we, too, seem to breed more lads than lasses."
Ilsa shook her head even as she smiled. "My father had four wives and I was the only lass born. When his last wife died bearing Fergus, who is but eleven, he said he had buried enough wives and wouldnae marry again. He died less than a year later of a virulent fever that swept through Dubheidland. It took many of the elders. So, at barely eleven, I found myself being raised by my brothers and cousins, mostly male as weel." She laughed softly as, the moment she entered the nursery, Diarmot's children rushed to greet her. "Finding myself with six sons and but two daughters seems verra natural."
"And, mayhap dealing with a stubborn fool of a mon willnae seem so strange, either."
"Och, nay, not strange at all. Nay easy, but nay strange."
"Ye will prevail."
"Is that an opinion born of some foreseeing or prophetic dream?"
"Nay, just a belief in the power of love, and ye do love him, dinnae ye?"
Ilsa sighed. "I do. I but pray it can survive the tests I am sure Diarmot will put it through."
*CHAPTER SIX*
The speed with which her brothers and the two younger MacEnroys disappeared into the alehouse almost made Ilsa laugh. They had all muttered something about needing to quench their thirst, but she knew they sought out willing women. She had spent her whole life around men so they could not fool her about such things, even though they continued to try. Although she puzzled over why they would waste scarce coins on a brief rutting with a whore, she considered it just another one of those manly things she would probably never understand.
"They are just seeking out a rutting," grumbled Gay. "Do they think we are too dim-witted to ken it?"
"Och, nay," replied Ilsa as she moved toward the market she had come to see.
"They ken that we ken exactly what they seek, but dinnae want to shock our delicate feminine sensibilities by being too truthful."
Gay snorted and rolled her eyes. "I dinnae understand men. I certainly dinnae understand how those lasses can rut with so many men they dinnae ken, mayhap dinnae e'en like."
"Ah, weel, 'tis for the coin, isnae it. Tis a hard life and some may have been pushed into it, nay chose it, but 'tis the way of the world. I suspect the lasses in that alehouse have some choice o'er which mon they bed down with.
Twould be verra fine indeed if all such lasses had truly chosen that life and were pleased with their lot, but there really isnae much we can do about it. If there is a lass about here who has been forced into that life and doesnae want to stay there, that will soon be kenned and I will see what can be done to help her. Tis all one can do."
"Aye, I suppose." She gasped softly and moved to a table filled with bolts of fine cloth. "Oh, Ilsa, look here. Tis a wonder to find such richness here."
"Gillyanne said this was a verra good market for the merchants stop here on their way to the larger, richer towns." Ilsa studied an extremely fine linen dyed a deep, rich blue. "This is verra lovely."
Although she knew it was an unnecessary extravagance, Ilsa soon reached a bargain with the man selling the cloth and arranged for it and some cheaper linen to be sent to the keep. Gillyanne had shown her the fine clothes and bolts of cloth left by Anabelle and Ilsa was willing to alter them for herself, but she also wished something new, something a little special and all her own.
She moved through the many displays of goods selecting ribbons for herself, Gay, and her new daughters. At one table she purchased a gentle scent for Fraser, at another something for each of Diarmot's children. Ilsa suspected it would not be appreciated that much, but she bought a wedding gift for Diarmot.
It was a beautifully wrought silver buckle, decorated with the swirling patterns favored by the ancients and a griffin with garnet chips for its eyes. They had been married only three days so she knew she could still disguise her urge to buy a gift for the man she loved as little more than custom or a courtesy. She might even hold fast to it until matters grew less uncertain between them.
Drawn by the scents of lavender and roses, Ilsa paused to survey the wares of the local herb seller and healing woman. The supply of medicinal herbs at the keep had been sadly depleted and, until she could restore the garden, she would have to buy what she needed. She was impressed by the variety offered and praised the white-haired woman for the quality of her goods.