by Ashe Barker
I bite back any feminist retort. These were different times, after all. And from what I know of Mary, queen of Scots, Will’s assessment may not be that far off the mark.
We travel during daylight, and I share one or the other of the horses. At night we snuggle up together in my tent. The men insist we all sleep naked and I have been treated to some truly delightful orgasms at the hands of one or the other of them, but there has been no repetition of the thrilling sensual episode we all three enjoyed that first morning together. I find myself somewhat disappointed and begin to wonder how I might instigate a little action.
“We need to sort out some proper clothes for you. Before we reach Stirling.” Robbie’s terse comment from behind me interrupts my reverie.
“Right.” I’d been thinking something along the same lines. While my outfit might be just the thing for twenty-first century fell-walking, a bright turquoise and grey waterproof anorak is not exactly common attire in sixteenth-century Scotland. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking we might be able to pass you off as a kinswoman of Will’s when we reach Stirling. Most of the clan Sinclair rarely venture south of Glencoe so there’s a reasonable chance we won’t be challenged on it. But we’ll need to dress you as a woman of this time. And come up with a decent name for you. Your odd way of speaking might be a problem, but perhaps we can say you were raised in France. They have some peculiar ways there, I gather.”
“Hmm, so where will we obtain this new outfit then?” I haven’t spotted much in the way of clothing shops on our travels. I leave the matter of my name for now.
“We could steal them, I suppose…” Will’s contribution to the conversation earns him a derisory snort from Robbie.
“Aye, and where do you think we’ll be stealing a noble woman’s garments from? You Sinclairs may get up to that sort of caper up in the wild Highlands, but in this part of the country we tend to leave our womenfolk relatively unmolested.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to take issue with that assertion, but on balance I decide it may be more prudent to remain silent.
“So, where then, if we’re not to offend delicate feminine sensibilities?”
“We’ll call and see Elspeth.”
Will groans.
“Elspeth has more fine gowns than she knows what to do with, and in the past it has been my understanding that she has not strenuously objected to removing them, though I’ll grant you know more of that than I do. I do believe she’ll spare us one or two. If you ask her nicely.”
More groaning.
“So that’s settled then.” Robbie sounds quite satisfied with his plan.
Will looks pained. I remain silent, wondering who this Elspeth might be and why Will appears so reluctant to relieve her of a gown.
Lady Elspeth Blair turns out to be a stunning woman, quite beautiful, even to me. Tall, statuesque, she watches from her porch as we canter up the flagged track leading to the steps of her grand manor house, several miles west of Edinburgh. Her hair is mostly covered in a fine, bright blue headdress, but a few strands of deep, rich brown are visible. She wears a fine gown of a paler shade, decorated by a loose belt fastened just below her waist with a silver buckle. Her clothing is of satin, or some such fabric, not the more usual wool I have observed as we passed through several Scottish villages and settlements on the way here. Heavily pregnant, our hostess is especially cordial in the welcome she offers to Robbie, though matters seem more strained between Lady Elspeth and Will.
“Robbie MacBride, where have you been? It must be three years at least since you were here. And have you encountered my husband on your travels at all?”
“Ah, Elspeth, beautiful as ever. Nay, I haven’t seen him, not recently. The last I heard though Duncan was in Edinburgh, attempting to keep Lord Darnley out of mischief. The queen trusts him to bring accurate reports of her husband’s escapades.”
“Aye, well, it would be nice to see my lord here once in a while, particularly if he could make it his business to do so before this little one joins our brood.” She strokes her swollen belly in an age-old gesture of protective devotion to the unborn child nestled there. “So, what brings you to my door this fine day? And who do you have with you?”
“You know Will Sinclair, of course…” Robbie gestures at our companion. Elspeth gives a curt nod.
“My lord, I trust you are well.”
Will shifts in his saddle, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I am, thank you. And yourself, Lady Elspeth?”
“I do fine. As you can see, my responsibilities are somewhat pressing these days.”
“Indeed. And how fare your other children? Two, was it?”
She arches one fine eyebrow and offers Will a cool glare. “Three, all boys, and doing well, thank you. They grow more rowdy every day. I pray this one is a girl for I sorely need some civilised company here at Glen Blair.”
Robbie chuckles, clearly at ease despite the chilly greeting reserved for Will. “Well, perhaps we can keep you entertained for night or two, Elspeth. We would be glad of your hospitality. May I introduce our companion, Mistress Kelly, though she goes by the name of Charlie. She’s a mite odd, but we find her to be harmless enough. We were hoping you might be prevailed upon to lend her some suitable clothing, something which would not be out of place in Stirling.”
Elspeth tilts her chin up to regard the three of us, still mounted on horseback at the foot of her front steps. “So, Robbie MacBride, let me make sure I have the right of this. You arrive at my door unannounced and uninvited with him…” she pauses to glare once more at Will, then turns her attention back to Robbie, all sweet smiles, “…and with another travelling companion looking equally disreputable and who you describe to me as ‘odd,’ seeking food, shelter, and the pick of my wardrobe? Is that about the size of it?”
Robbie bows his head, his expression solemn, but for the gleam in his eyes. “Aye, Elspeth, you have it exactly. I can see why Duncan is content to apply himself to her majesty’s business, knowing he leaves his lands in such excellent care, though why else he would tarry in Edinburgh leaving you here alone is beyond me.”
Elspeth tilts a haughty chin, though her expression is equally amused. “Well, thank the Lord you’re here. I had feared today was going to be dull. Archie, take the horses around to the stable, lad. And you three, come inside. I’m sure we can find some food for you, as long as my own three hellions haven’t stripped the larder like the locusts they are.”
At Elspeth’s command, a lad of perhaps fourteen or fifteen rushes across the courtyard and seizes the reins of both mounts. Robbie relinquishes our horse to the stable boy’s care and slides to the ground. He holds his arms up for me to jump down too. Will also dismounts, and has the presence of mind to untie my rucksack from his saddle before allowing his horse to be led away. The three of us advance to the house. I extend a hand to Elspeth in greeting. I sense she could be a friend, and an important ally, despite her clear reservations about Will.
“Good afternoon. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m not especially odd, it’s just that I’m a stranger to this area.”
Robbie emits a sound somewhere between a cough and a growl. His expression is far from pleased. He and Will exchange a look that I would best describe as ominous.
Elspeth takes my hand and shakes it, a light frown on her otherwise lovely face. “Aye, I can tell that from your speech. Where are you from then, and how do you manage to find yourself travelling with these two?”
Ah, right, the six-million-dollar question. I look from Robbie to Will in search of inspiration.
“It’s a complicated tale, Elspeth, and one we’ll share with you as best we can. We’ll be needing to rely on your discretion though.” Will steps up beside our hostess, a crooked smile on his face. “But first, could you and I make our peace? It’s been a long time since… well, since. And I know full well that you and Duncan are happy together, more so than you and I would have been.”
Ah, like that, is
it?
“Well, that’s true enough. Even so, you’re a faithless bastard, Will Sinclair, and I really should take a horsewhip to you. I would too, if I could but summon the energy.”
“You’re absolutely right, there’s no point wasting your sweat on him, Elspeth. If it helps I’d be delighted to batter the worthless cur senseless for you.” Robbie makes his chivalrous offer, and I’m not convinced any of us really know if he’s joking or not.
Lady Elspeth Blair tosses her hair in another imperious gesture. “Thank you, Robbie. I will most certainly consider your kind proposal. I’ll do so while we eat. Please follow me, all of you.”
We are ushered into the manor house, Elspeth barking orders at her scurrying servants to produce warm food, light a fire in the main hall, and to make up guest rooms. A few minutes later we’re ensconced in her hall, with platters of chicken, mutton, and steaming vegetables emerging from the kitchens. Elspeth seats herself at the head and Will takes the seat to her right. Robbie takes the seat at her left, and I slip in beside him.
“Please, help yourselves. We can talk after your bellies are filled.”
The next few minutes are spent in silence as we sample the delicious fare put before us. The peace is shattered when we are joined by three small boys, who scramble onto chairs at the table and proceed to shovel food into their mouths and argue noisily, barely drawing breath between either activity. I can’t help but think their mother’s description of them as locusts was somewhat apt.
The lads are introduced to us as Duncan, aged five, Richard, aged four, and the youngest is Iain, at just two years old. They are grubby, wriggling little creatures, all three of them, and I wonder at Lady Elspeth’s description of me as disreputable. Still, a mother’s love and all that. Despite her earlier remarks, it’s clear that the boys do know who is mistress in this house and when she calls for silence they obey.
“Boys, we have guests. Please seek to comport yourselves as befits the sons and heirs of Lord Duncan Blair. And Richard, it would particularly please me if you could refrain from inserting boiled carrots into your brother’s ear. Thank you.”
The boys offer us a selection of friendly, gap-toothed grins. The oldest, Duncan, is keen to hear news of his father, and when that topic is exhausted engages Will in conversation about the existence of dragons in the woodland at the other side of the loch. I’m astonished at the depth of Will’s apparent knowledge on the subject, and the two seem to hit it off. Elspeth looks less than convinced at this budding friendship, but leaves them to it. I suspect her boys experience little enough in the way of adult male company, so even Will is better than nothing.
After they have eaten, the boys seek to excuse themselves and leave. Elspeth is having none of that and summons a tutor to collect them. The elderly gentleman looks somewhat harried, and I sympathise.
Not so Elspeth. She issues her instructions in a manner that would do credit to any drill sergeant major in the current British army.
“It’s time for some lessons. Please do what you can with them, Mr. Drummond. A little arithmetic, followed by some Greek philosophy. They should practice their letters too. When that is concluded, you may send Duncan and Richard for their swordplay practice, and Iain will take a nap.”
The youngest Blair starts to take issue with that plan, but is silenced by one glare from his mother. She shakes her head, seemingly at a loss as to the prospect of securing anything reassembling a decent education for the next generation of Blairs, but committed to the effort even so. Minutes later their running feet can be heard stampeding through the upper rooms. It sounds as though they are moving beds around.
Elspeth’s expression is pained, but she turns to Robbie and me. “So, Charlie, you were saying, about not being odd? And is that truly your name?”
“It is. Where I come from, Charlie is sometimes a girl’s name. It’s short for Charlene. Or Charlotte. But I’m Charlene. Spelt with a C H.” I proceed to recite the spelling of my name, as all three of my companions regard me with some puzzlement.
“I see. So, you can write then? And read? How very accomplished.”
“Of course. I…” Shit, I’d totally forgotten how rare literacy was—is—in the sixteenth century.
Robbie attempts to rescue me. “Charlie grew up … some way from here. Which is why she is dressed in such unfamiliar clothing. Do you have anything she might borrow?”
“Borrow? So you intend to restore my garments to me afterwards? Is this so, Charlie?”
Her keen gaze is fixed on me. I find it impossible to be less than honest with this woman. “If I can. But I may not be able to. We may not be back this way again for some time.”
“I see. Then let us not talk of borrowing. I will give you clothing, and whatever else you may require. In return, I expect you to explain to me exactly where you do hail from, why you are here, and what brings you into the company of those two reprobates.” She glances sharply at Robbie and Will. “And before the pair of you start trying to divert my attention again, please be assured I will know this story, and if necessary that I can be relied upon to keep it to myself. So, my dear, please do continue. When you’re quite ready of course.”
I look to Robbie, who hesitates for a few moments before issuing a sharp nod. Permission granted, the next hour or so is spent relating my somewhat exceptional story to an astonished Lady Elspeth. To her credit, she seems to accept my tale, and sympathises with me when I relate the manner in which I spent my first night with Robbie and Will. By common but unspoken consent we omit any mention of my spanking, or the more intimate aspects of our relationship. Elspeth is fascinated by the contents of my rucksack, and in particular my toiletries. I don’t carry much with me, just a few essentials. She is most insistent that I explain the use of my tampons, then gazes at me wide-eyed as the implications of such luxuries sinks in.
“My, you do indeed come from a wondrous age, Mistress Charlie. I would hear more of it. First though, shall we sort out the matter of your garments? Would you consider a fair exchange?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Would you exchange one or two items from your collection here for the clothes I will offer you? I promise not to show them to others, but I do find them quite fascinating so I would keep some if I may.”
I expect she’ll want my toiletries. I can understand that. “I, of course. I suppose… Is that okay?” I look to Will and Robbie.
“Elspeth has promised to keep our secret, so I see no problem,” Will states.
“Aye,” Robbie agrees. “No objection from me either.”
Elspeth bestows a beaming smile on all three of us, even Will. “Then that is settled. Charlie, come with me please.”
She stands and leads me from the hall. I follow her upstairs and into a chamber where a maid is just finishing making up a fire.
“This is to be your room whilst you are here. I trust you will find it comfortable?”
I glance around at the high four-poster bed, the small window, the narrow bench seat, and small writing desk. The furniture is functional, and all the pieces are hewn from dark, solid wood and would probably fetch a small fortune in a twenty-first century antique market. If they weren’t snapped up by some museum first. “Yes, this is fine. Thank you.”
“Good. In that case, if you would accompany me to my own chamber I will find you something nice to wear.” She marches off down the hallway again with me in hot pursuit.
“Thank you, but really, I don’t need anything grand. Just a simple dress, and maybe a pair of shoes. A shawl perhaps…”
“Yes, of course, all of that.” She opens a door at the end of the corridor and I follow her inside.
This room is larger than the one she just showed me, and lighter too as the window is huge and probably south-facing. I am struck by the enormous reliance on natural light in this pre-electric age. Elspeth pulls a stool up before a large chest and sits on it before hauling the lid open. It looks heavy so I rush to help her.
“Wh
en’s your baby due? You really shouldn’t be doing any lifting right now.”
“I have another six weeks to go, at least. But even so I’m feeling a tad delicate so I would be grateful if you could lean in and just get that green brocade there…”
I oblige. “This one?”
“Yes. Hold it up in front of you. Like that. Ah yes, that should do fine. The colour will suit you; your hair has just a slight tinge of red, I think. Maybe you have some Scottish ancestry?”
“Not to my knowledge, but who knows? This is gorgeous. Are you sure?”
“Ah, yes, I have several more just as pretty. This one is right for you. Now, what about that grey, just there, you see it?”
I extract a dove-grey wool gown, thicker than the green and more practical probably, but still lovely. The fabric is softer than I imagined it would be as I measure it against myself.
“You’re about the same height as me, but maybe a little more slender. I’ll have one of my maids take in the seams if need be. You’ll be requiring undergarments too. And shoes.”
“This really is very kind of you…”
“Ah, not at all. The three of you have brightened up an otherwise unremarkable day. Even Will Sinclair’s presence here is not enough to ruin this treat for me. We don’t get much company here. I suspect my boys scare most visitors away before they even reach our gates.”
I’m curious, so I take my chance. “I get the impression you and Will have some history together.”
“Aye, we do.” She pauses, as though considering, then, “We were to be married. Until my brother discovered my fiancé in bed with his wife. There was never that much love lost between our Jerome and his Agnes, to be sure, but it was the principle, you see. Jerome offered to gut Will on the spot and even produced his sgian-dubhe to do the job with. Will objected to the notion, as did Agnes. They settled for a fistfight, which reduced much of Agnes’ fine porcelain to dust, but seemed to satisfy honour on both sides. You will understand though that I felt obliged to conclude our betrothal at that point. I believe I already mentioned to you that Will Sinclair is a faithless bastard, and I choose not to be married to such an individual. As head of my family it was fortunate for me perhaps that Jerome saw things exactly the same way. A few months later my brother found himself in need of an alliance with the Blairs, so approached Duncan instead.”
