by Susan Payne
Agatha nodded in agreement. Jillian knew the woman didn’t trust herself to say anything aloud, didn’t trust she would be able to stop at a mere agreement without fuming about Jillian’s unfitness for being the Laird’s wife.
Jillian turned towards her room. There wasn’t anything of interest in the house and she seemed to put people on edge whenever she came upon them unannounced while they worked. All but Ann, who simply nodded and curtsied and then scurried away. Jillian wasn’t used to that and could not imagine what story was being passed around to encourage that type of reaction to her presence.
As she was heading back to her sleeping chambers, the open door to the room with the desk beckoned. She veered towards it like a bee to a flower. She perused the shelf of books with elaborately decorated spines where she found titles like The Odyssey and Don Quixote. Neither had she read. When she picked the first up, she found it written in the original Greek and Jillian replaced it carefully on the shelf disappointedly. She could read English, Gaelic, and French, but had never been taught Greek or Latin as a male would have been.
She continued and was pleasantly surprised to find an almost new Le Morte de Arthur by Castiglione, the story of King Arthur and his court in French. She would ask if she could read that. It had been years since she last read it as a young girl. It was probably one reason she became so infatuated with anything that had to do with knighthood and fighting with the heavy swords, wearing chainmail and helmets, drawn towards destriers and tilting with pikes.
Jillian smiled remembering how her teacher and bane of her existence, Sir Gunn, had worked her harder than any of the others saying she had to work longer and with more diligence because of being a female. No reason was good enough for not doing her best and for not getting more accurate with her weapons. She worked at becoming stronger. Worked out with the various wood logs and bags of grain she carried up and down the loft’s stairs.
But all the pushing and threatening made her a better fighter and better leader. The men began to admire her unfailing energy to keep going no matter how weary or how much pain she was feeling. And she did suffer pain, in silence as all the men were expected to carry their own pain. Being a female didn’t give her license to rest longer or stop earlier.
A call and the ever-familiar sound of one sword striking another brought her attention to the outside bailey. Two men of equally large proportions were shirtless and fighting one another, the one who was a little shorter than the other being the better swordsman, at least today.
She watched avidly. Not because she was interested in the half-clothed men herself, but because she missed the excitement of such activity. She knew she had lost much of her strength, which she must recoup if she were ever to try to raise a sword in her arm again. She could go back to the dungeon and lift the smaller casks until her arm muscles built-up to their normal strength as she had done as a girl. No one would know she was there and the weighty objects were already in place.
She sensed him before he spoke. “Interested in watching my men practice or simply enjoying watching half-naked men sweat?”
She glanced over her shoulder to give him a little smile. “Mayhaps a little of both. Since we have been together, I don’t look at men in the same way. I always appreciated the fact they were strong physically, but I looked at their muscular structure from a combatant’s position. Now I appreciate some of the more interesting facts, the hind-quarters for instance. They are not enlarged merely to be able to hold their position against an onslaught, but they are thrusting muscles, too. Their hard areas are in juxtaposed to a female's soft areas.”
Gawain came up behind her, pushing her up against the window frame and said into her ear, “You sound like you’ve been contemplating my men over-much. Haven’t I kept you occupied enough?”
“You’ve been more than entertaining, my lord, but a woman has a lot of spare time in which to think about things.” She sent the words out as a challenge, letting him know that a bored wife could get into trouble.
He was ruching up her dress in one hand while trying to free his aroused staff with the other. Keeping her in place with his firm body, his head behind her neck so he could again suck on the soft skin there. Jillian arched into his hips, allowing him the access he was seeking. A low groan as he entered her showed his appreciation and the matching moan emitted from her lips welcomed him as she felt his swollen erection fill her, thrusting effectively to her delighted surprise.
She must remember her husband was very competitive and would make sure her concentration fell on his muscled body and no others. She was soon holding on to the window sill with both hands, taking what her husband was dispensing until they both stiffened and slumped together, Gawain holding his bride up as her legs went weak.
After a few moments of retrieving their strength and straightening their clothes, Gawain complained, “Wife, you drive me to distraction with these conjectures of yours. What I came in to tell you is that I conferred with my two huntsmen and they have agreed to allow you to hunt with us if you would like to do so.”
Jillian’s face must have lit up at the opportunity to ride out from the bailey and have the chance to shoot her arrows again, possibly bring down a stag. Then the smile slipped as she asked, “Do you think I would be allowed to wear my regular clothes and ride astride as I am used to? I would try not to offend anyone or dishonor you, but skirts and slippers are not conducive to the hunt.”
Gawain surprised her when he said, “I agree. The fluttering of skirts could upset the horses as they chase through the woods and there are too many ways to be unseated from a side mount. So, you have been on a hunt before, I take it?”
“I was lead hunter for the last four years at the castle and have killed several boars as well as Grice. Even if I say so myself, I am an excellent bowman and can get game birds easily. I once brought down two partridge with one arrow.” She chuckled saying, “It was merely a happenstance, of course. They were simply positioned closely as they flew up after the hounds flushed them.”
“I don’t need you to prove anything to me. I wanted to get you out of the keep and see more of our lands then that damp forest where I found you. Although we may find ourselves back there since the Red deer have trails interweaving through the woods. We only try for the stags this time of year, let the hinds drop their fawns in the spring. But we need to cull the herds or they eat too much of the cattle and sheep’s feed. Besides, our crofters get tired of trying to save their crops from the deer’s constant foraging.”
“We had the same problems. We made sure the crofters got their share of the meat since it was their crops that made our deer so large and healthy. Although we had mostly Roe which are much smaller.”
“Venison is venison and a good change from lamb and mutton. Although nothing goes over better than a succulent boar and Cook does a wonderful job with the preparing of it,” he told her.
“Then if we find a boar trail, we must follow it,” she announced with a smile then quickly remembered her original request of him. “May I read some of these books? I find I have too much free time if I do not wish to step on the toes of the household.” She did not bring up Agatha’s name although Gawain probably knew who she meant.
“So, you had a governess who taught you to read and write?” he asked seemingly in no hurry now he had told her about the hunt and his physical needs were taken care of sufficiently.
“No, I had a tutor, but I refused to bother learning Latin and Greek as I thought them un-needed languages. I studied the rest of the subjects, sons would be taught although, of course, I never went to university. Even my father had his stopping points.”
She laughed as she remembered the bright red color he turned when she broached the subject with him. “By then he was used to seeing me handle weapons and practice with Sir Gunn and he probably pictured me doing so in men’s clothing in the university square.”
“I will need to speak with you more about this ‘tutor’ you had. He was young and had a pl
easant appearance, I assume?”
“Yes, just as all governesses are young, beautiful and voluptuous,” she answered in return.
“Hmmm, point taken.”
“So, I have access to your books?” she asked him again. She didn’t wish to be denied access to the opportunities these books represented.
“Certainly, what is mine is yours. We will leave early in the morning for the hunt so we should be to bed early to be rested.” Then he raised one eyebrow in question.
She conceded to his request. “I am willing to sleep as soon as the sun goes down. I won’t be imbibing wine at dinner, though. For some reason, it seems to make my entire body ache.” She returned to perusing the books once more.
Gawain scoffed as he left the room, leaving the door open as he departed.
CHAPTER SIX
Gawain and Jillian went to bed immediately after supper, but found neither were tired enough to fall asleep immediately. Instead, they took time to tire one another, finally sprawling across the sheets in utter exhaustion. Laying there the thought that entered Jillian’s mind was not meant to be an intrusion between them, but Gawain seemed to take it as such.
“How will I know I’m with child?” The blurted question brought Gawain wide awake.
“When are your next courses due? Have you already missed them?” he asked not seeming sure himself.
“I have never been very, um-m-m, regular. The healer at home said it was due to my unusual activities. She did not think I should be fighting like a man and tried to dissuade me at every turn,” Jillian confided.
“Then I am not sure either. Best to ask, Lady Edith. She seems to help the women with such things as well as acting as midwife.”
“I will wait awhile then because that’s what she will probably tell me. I will decide at another time. I am sorry to have brought it up. It will happen when it happens.” She seemed to set worrying about her future motherhood aside and fell asleep.
Jillian’s easy fall into slumber left Gawain thinking about his wife and how to make sure she remained at the fortress with him. When she mentioned being with child his mind raced at the possibility of what she was really asking. Trying to figure out if she meant when could they stop making love or she was anxious to get it over with or she were excited to be carrying his child. He realized it could be any of those and still not mean she was content to spend the following nine months at the keep let alone the rest of her life.
He enjoyed their lovemaking session in the library and enjoyed learning more about his interesting wife almost as much. He had not wished to end their friendly conversation, but knew he was already late for his meeting. He hoped they could regain that same closeness once again and he could learn more about her unusual upbringing, which made her the contradiction she was now.
A woman who met him at every turn with the same sexual need and yet wielded her sexuality like a broadsword, to her advantage. She enjoyed their joining, even initiated them. No reticent lover, she, and he liked that about her. He liked that very much.
To learn she had a tutor, a male tutor, who taught her the same as a male heir was a little strange, but she could inherit the Crawford lands and title if the King allowed. Then she would out rank him and her children would receive titles as well. His children. He must remember that no matter what the future holds for them. They were a couple, as married as if they had been standing in front of a priest.
He tried to fall asleep thinking about what their children would look like, be like. Fierce, strong, stubborn, he had no doubt. How could they escape since those traits were so prevalent from both parents? He could picture his daughters as smaller versions of their mother, chainmail and all. His sons would be even more fierce-some.
Physically strong, but strong of honor as well. He knew Jillian had been guided by honor and loyalty when she took her father from their home. Braving a trip many others shuddered to take in a warm carriage and accompanied by a troop of servants and guards.
He knew he would not need to worry about the character of his children with Jillian. Just that if they would have children at all. Because along with her strength came unpredictability as well. His wife could wake-up one day and decide to throw the usurper out of her home and re-instate her father.
Gawain feared that Jillian coming to the forefront. He didn’t wish to have to restrain his wife from leaving him, taking his possibility of children and any future his clan could have with a Macgregor as a leader. This worried him. As well as worrying how he would live if she were to go.
As often as he was making love to his wife, she would be with child soon. Then he would need to make up his mind how he was going to treat her possibly wanting to leave. He knew she was biding her time there. That she wanted a child, a male child preferably, to hold onto the Crawford title and lands. Jillian might not cut him loose completely until she knew she had a male child so possibly Gawain had more time to convince her to stay with him. He didn’t have many options.
In the morning, they rose early and ate quickly to meet the others, Sir Torrey and Sir Jason, out in the stable getting the horses readied. Jillian, wearing the knit hose and leather jerkin over a long-sleeved tunic went to her Palfrey, Lancelot, and found him returned to his original healthy proportions. The gelding nosed Jillian and seemed to be glad to see her again. She patted the horse and checked the saddle and bridle before being satisfied. Sir Jason gave Jillian the bow and arrows they had confiscated on that first fateful afternoon.
“Is my broadsword here, also?” she asked.
“Yes, Madam. We had it cleaned, oiled and placed with ours in the armory,” Sir Torrey told her as he finished pulling the strap that held his saddle on. They would also be taking a Rouncey as packhorse, which intimated they planned on bagging a portion of big game and not only a couple of deer.
“Don’t use ‘madam’ with me, please. Jillian is fine.” Both men looked toward their Laird for his permission and he nodded silently as he checked his horse and gear.
“Do we have extra spears? I am used to travelling with two when I go after boars. Sometimes the first thrust isn’t deep enough if we are both on the ground,” she told the men.
Gawain ended the conversation by saying firmly, “If we come upon a boar, one of us will be using the pikes. I don’t want you placed in that sort of danger.”
Jillian resented his authoritarian decree but realized he also had to protect the mother of his possible heir. She decided to be grateful for being invited along with the hunt at all. She could have found herself sitting inside and reading for days at a time. She knew she would soon become restless which would be a bad thing for everyone. Since she would then begin to wish to find a way of unseating Dennis from her father’s home.
The four rode off at a brisk pace, needing to get to the areas where game would be prevalent and worth spending the time culling. Soon it seemed to Jillian they were at the same woodland where she and her father had taken refuge.
As she stood in her stirrups, she searched for any sign of her once passing that way and Gawain said, “We came out this way but you were much further north of here. This wood follows a ravine for miles so you could have remained hidden except we ran across your horses’ trail and followed it to make sure no one was hiding for nefarious reasons.”
“So, but for a little luck or bad luck depending on how one looks at it, my father and I could have been in England by now.”
Gawain did not have time for an answer because Jason finished walking the ground and motioned them to follow him as he remounted and headed into the trees.
The hunters seemed to be following a slightly worn path through the trees. There were signs some of the evergreens had been chewed to about five feet which meant the deer had come through this way during their foraging for food.
Jillian knew the woods was too open for the deer to feel comfortable sleeping in and would be on the move the whole time. They would be looking for more ground cover and brush, plus searching for water.
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The other three, of course, knew where the streams were in the forest and she followed their lead, letting them choose the paths while she kept a watch for any game that may be trying to hide from them.
Finally, the men dismounted and she did as well. Tethering the horses a distance away, they grabbed their weapons of choice. The three men selecting crossbows. Jillian took her bow and the quiver on her back and followed them as they hunched over going into some underbrush growing alongside the stream. There they found a large herd of deer drinking and munching the low branches. Each hunter selected their target and as one they let loose with their arrow and bolts while four stags went down. The rest startled then ran in several directions at once.
The huntsmen went to their respective kills and pulled out their knives and gutted the animal, using the stomach to hold the various organs that would be taken back and prepared in numerous ways. Gawain turned to help Jillian with hers only to find she was wiping off her blade and beginning to hoist the carcass onto her shoulders.
“I’ll take that one, too,” he told her.
She was about to argue, but then backed down. “I’ll bring your bow and the stomachs. Do all of these get tied to the pack horse, then?”
“Yes. I was hoping to find some larger game, but we will need to make a special hunt for a boar. Get the dogs to flush them out. There isn’t always enough undergrowth for them to hide behind in the woods.”
“You don’t have deer hounds? I thought I saw them near the stable before,” she said as they reached the horses and she held the bridle so Gawain could tie the kills onto the back. The horse must have been used for this purpose before because it didn’t flinch with the smell of blood or having the lifeless weight on his blanketed back.
“We have some trained for boars and the others are used for game birds. There are a lot of grouse, pheasant and partridge the other direction from the keep where the meadows and fields are. I’ll take you another time. Early morning is always best for those before they separate and go off scavenging for food.”