Gay gently combed out Ilsa's long hair. "Weel, now his lordship can repair his lands and his purse. That woman left so many gowns and so many bolts of cloth, ye willnae have to buy anything for years."
"Oh, dear. That makes me feel guilty for buying that lovely blue linen."
"Nonsense. Ye deserve a wee pleasure. A bolt of cloth now and again willnae beggar the mon. Ye deserve it for being so careful with your mon's coin, as weel."
"How can buying a bolt of cloth keep Diarmot from poverty?"
"Ye have made good use, or will, of the gowns Lady Anabelle had. Many another wife would have refused to do so. Wouldnae want to touch the belongings of the first wife."
"Superstitious, I suppose."
"Could be. Could also be that the second wife would be afraid she wouldnae look as good in the clothes as the first wife did. And, ye can cease looking like that."
Quelling the sudden urge to remove the gown, Ilsa said, "Ye cannae see my face. How do ye ken what I look like?"
"I ken ye weel, Ilsa. Ye have oft called yourself too red, too small, too thin. Weel, ye are none of that. Ye look verra fine in that gown and ye best nay be thinking of taking it off."
"Impertinent wench." Ilsa sighed. "From all I have heard, Anabelle was a verra beautiful woman. Considering where, and how much, we had to adjust this gown so that it would fit me, Anabelle had the sort of form that makes men's tongues hang out and their eyes roll back in their heads."
"There is a lovely picture," murmured Gay, then she laughed softly. "Sounds like a fit."
"A fit of lust. Anabelle apparently drove men mad with it. She could make men betray their laird, risk death to have her. I cannae do that, ne'er have, ne'er will."
"And would ne'er wish to. Your husband comes to your bed every night, aye? I suspicion he doesnae just pat ye on your wee head and go to sleep. He is the only mon who matters, the only one ye want to make his tongue hang out and his eyes roll back in his head, although it sounds most unpleasant."
Ilsa laughed. "Aye, it does."
"There, ye look tidy now." Gay sat down in the chair on the other side of the chest and helped herself to an oatcake. "I suspicion every lass would like to be so beautiful men would risk life and fortune to have them. I am nay sure Lady Anabelle was, precisely. Oh, she was bonny, but I think there was a wild lustiness about her that drew men. Mayhap she drew men by her beauty, too, but I think they also hoped they would be the one who tamed her." Gay shook her head.
"Or, mayhap, she was just a vain whore and men are fools who think with their rods."
"That is a strong possibility," Ilsa drawled and laughed again. "Weel, there is nay kenning what drew men to Lady Anabelle and twas probably something different with near every one of them. I may fret on occasion that I am nay the beauty she was, but naught else. The only ghost she left behind is a vile one, her legacy one of anger, pain, and mistrust. I am certain Diarmot doesnae love the woman any longer. I just fear that she has left him unable to love again."
"Nay, I dinnae believe that. Wheesht, if all feeling had been killed, the fool wouldnae have to work so hard to guard his heart, would he?"
"That is what Gillyanne says."
"And tis true, I am certain of it. Aye, his late wife left him filled with bitterness and mistrust, but I think he clings to it now like a shield. He softened to ye once; he will again."
"I hope so, Gay." She smiled faintly. "Ye seem to be giving all of this a great deal of thought."
"Weel, I want ye to be happy, dinnae I? I also feel a need now to look closely at the many ways men and women act with each other, the many ways they treat each other. It helps me to start to believe that what happened to me had naught to do with all that, that it was naught but a particularly vicious way to beat me." She blushed. "I suspicion those bastards felt some odd sort of tainted lust, but nay for me. They would have done the same to any poor lass they got ahold of. They just wanted to stick their rods in some woman, thought it would make them look all big, strong, powerful, and monly. I just happened to be the first poor lass to come within their reach. Slowly, as I watch others, it helps me understand that."
"I am so glad, Gay. And ye will continue to heal, I am certain of it. Ye are too strong a lass to let those men rob ye of all spirit and future." She held up her hand to stop Gay's response. "Ye will have a future. Whilst ye are noticing so much else, I suggest ye notice that no one shuns ye, and they have all guessed what happened to ye. A good mon, the sort ye could make a future with, will ne'er condemn ye for what happened."
Gay nodded. "Each day I begin to believe that more and more. Twill settle firm in my heart soon, I think, for I can see the truth of it in your brothers, your cousins, and the men here at Clachthrom." She smiled faintly. "And, it helps to be learning how to use the knife Elyas gave me."