Three weeks passed, during which Isobel started her training and Frang was working hard to catch her up to the others. She still worked with a basic stick and her footwork. She was squeezing her seed bags in the evening, although her sewing was also strengthening her fingers. The good and hearty food and Ailene's constant urging to eat had added about fifteen pounds to Isobel's frame and she looked more lovely each day.
There had been no sign of Màiri and Ailene worried constantly. The family hadn't heard anything either and Ailene continued to send enough money for food and medicine to assuage her guilt. They'd sent a cart of food each week to the McTavish place for the people there and another wagon of homespun for clothes for some of the more raggedly dressed.
Ailene and Isobel had been working on her Midsummer festival dress. It was as daring and baring as she believed it would be and she had to add additional material to the bodice or it would have been utterly scandalous, almost exposing her nipples. Stuart had not seen it yet. She hoped to surprise him on the day of the party, now only ten days away.
Because of how closely she and Isobel were working together, Thorburn and Frang seldom had opportunity to be alone with her. While they might make a quick comment in passing, they were as polite and conscientious of her standing as they ever were, although she knew they were somewhat frustrated by their lack of access.
Every one was preparing for another market day. More sheep had been sheared and they had several carts of raw wool that was waiting to be sold. Thorburn was thinking about the widow Mackintosh and her unspoken invitation to partake of her charms. Given that he'd limited opportunity to be with Ailene, he was thinking that a woman would come in right handy at the moment. Isobel and Ailene were talking about what kind of dress and color material that they should get for Isobel. She'd held the red brocade against her skin, but it washed out her lovely hair. Ailene thought a green color that brought out the color of her eyes would be nice. Isobel thought perhaps a pale yellow, but was still worried about the Cameron's paying for her dress. She didn't feel like she was doing enough to help justify a new dress, despite Ailene's assurances that she could not have made her dress without her help. She was willing to modify an older one of Ailene's. Frang was looking forward to more gambling, while Stuart was concerned about getting ready for the festival. They needed to buy more stores to be prepared for the guests. Several nearby landowners had been invited and he worried about making a good impression.
The day arrived and they went with a large contingent of men, five carts of wool and another of other items they produced to sell. When they arrived in Dervaig, Thorburn and Stuart went to sell their goods, Frang left to find some gambling, Isobel and Ailene went to the millinery, all accompanied by a contingent of men. Thorburn sent a messenger to Teárlag's residence asking if she would be available to call upon later, offering her lunch at the Inn. He received a prompt response asking him to pick her up at half past noon.
He arrived at the appointed time, sending his six escorts to wait across the street and knocked upon her door. Instead of the butler opening the door, it was opened by Teárlag herself, and she quickly pulled him into her home, dressed in nothing but a semi-transparent dressing gown.
"I thought you'd be dressed to go by now," he said.
"Oh, lunch at the Inn would be so dreary and tiresome. There would be others there and we wouldn't have an opportunity to really get to know one another. Not like we can now."
"Aren't you concerned about your reputation, Mrs. Mackintosh? Won't your servants talk?"
"The reputation of a twice married widow? I'm not sure how much of a reputation I still have. After they prepared lunch for us, I sent the servants away. They may know why, but not with whom. Being married twice, and neither time to a man considered in the prime of health; I found that I enjoyed the process of coupling when they were feeling lusty enough. Unfortunately, that was never often enough for my taste. If you don't mind, I would greatly like to spend some time with a man who might be able to mount me more than once a month. I hope that's not too forward of me?"
"I've always considered myself the hunter, Mrs. Mackintosh. You make me feel more like the prey."
"As long as it doesn't interfere with our afternoon of entertainment, you can be whatever you want to be."
"Am I overdressed for the occasion?" Thorburn asked.
"At the moment, but I'm sure you're hungry for more than what I'm dying to fully show you."
"It's all pretty clear at the moment," making reference to the light dressing gown that covered next to nothing.
"Let's make it perfectly clear," and she dropped the wispy dressing gown to the floor. "The food is set up in the dining room. I'll give you something to give you a little stamina, my Lord." She pulled him toward the dining room.
The table had two place settings, right next to each other. There were was a platter of three different meats, beef, pork and pheasant, all cold. There were cooked sliced beets, roasted potatoes, hot bread, a fish soup with peas, celery and onions. He recognized a couple different tarts and even lemons and a similar looking fruit, though orange in color. He'd had lemons while on military campaigns in Spain and Italy, though he had not had any for several years. The prices of just one was prohibitive to all but the richest people. She must have more money than he had first believed.
She waved her hand around the table and said, "Help yourself. With more notice, the meats would be fresh off the spit, but I was limited by time. I have wine, whiskey or beer to drink should you prefer alcohol, or I have fresh spring water."
"It looks splendid, Lady Mackintosh."
"Call me Teárlag, please Lord Cameron. Given how I'm dressed, Lady Mackintosh seems much too formal, don't you think?"
"Aye, you might as well call me Thorburn as well. Can you tell me what that orange fruit is next to the lemons?"
"Something from the same family, I believe, given the insides look similar, but much sweeter, called an orange. No originality with that name. I have some ideas of how it might be enjoyed after we've eaten. Please, sit down. I'll be happy to serve."
"It's been a long time since I've been served food by one so naked or so lovely. Either seat?"
"Of course."
Thorburn removed all of his accoutrements save his kilt and shirt and took a seat.
"Tell me what you'd like and I'll get it for you, Thorburn. Try not to eat or drink too much, though. I wouldn't want you getting too sleepy. I have big plans for you later."
"I'll try some of the soup, some beef and pheasant, potatoes and beets, the butt from the bread. That should do for starters, Teárlag."
"And what would you like to drink?"
"Some water and a bit of the whiskey would be fine."
She put a selection of food on his plate and set it down before him.
"Is there anything else you see that you'd like to eat?"
"I think there will be as soon as I've sampled some of the other fare."
