“Nay, they don’t,” Maggie told him. “In each cottage is a small dovecote. In the event of an attack, three pigeons are released, one from each cote, with a message attached to one of their wee legs. They come home to Brae Aisir entering the keep into their own special cote. There is always someone watching that cote for them. No one has figured out how we so quickly repel an attack on our borders,” she laughed. “There are two more places on our lands where cottages with pigeon cotes exist. We’ll visit them in the spring, for there is no time today.”
Iver nodded. “ ’Tis cleverly done,” he said.
“I’ve shown ye all ye need to know here,” Maggie told him. “Let’s go and get some cakes and ale before we return home. Do ye mind riding pillion with Mary?”
“Nay, I’ll take the woman,” he said, following his mistress to Bessy’s cottage. As he ate a fresh-baked oatcake and drank some good October ale, Iver looked about the cottage. It was a well-kept space, clean and neat, with three rooms. The main one, where the men ate and socialized, was the largest. A second room had space for a row of beds. The third was the smallest, and obviously belonged to Bessy. It had a door that could be locked, and no window. It was all very well thought out, he considered. As he drank his ale and ate the oatcake, Bessy flirted with him.
“Yer a fine strong lad,” she said, her hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a tumble with ye.” She grinned up at him.
“Yer a shameless woman,” he said low. “Ye’ve got a houseful of lads to play with, Bessy Kerr.”
“Nay, Iver Leslie, I would never swive one of them, for it would make the others jealous, and then I should have to fuck them all. There are few secrets kept in a cottage.”
And while the others were engaged in speaking with their lady, Bessy reached down and gave his manhood a squeeze. “My lads know me, and they’ll keep the lady busy while ye and I have a little fun.” Bessy gave him a coquettish grin and pulled him from the room.
She was a woman who wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he suspected they wouldn’t get away until he had given her what she wanted. He followed Bessy to her small chamber, and when she shut the door, he surprised her by pushing her up against it and giving her a hard kiss. “Very well, lass, let’s give ye what ye need so we may be on our way before the snow starts,” he said as her hands yanked his breeks down so she might fondle him to a stand. Iver surprised Bessy by his quick reaction to her touch.
“Yer a big man,” she said. “Good! It’s been months since I’ve had a good swiving, lad. Now I’ll get through the winter.”
His hands pushed her skirts up, clamped beneath her big bottom, and lifted her up to impale her on his manhood. Bessy squealed with excitement, wrapping her arms and legs about him as he began to piston her vigorously. Within moments she was moaning into his shoulder, but he seemed not to be tiring. Bessy was astounded by his vigor. She couldn’t ever remember a man using her in so lusty and long a manner.
“Tell me when yer ready,” he finally growled into her ear.
Bessy was near to fainting with her excitement and satisfaction. She was going to die if he didn’t soon stop. “Now!” she managed to gasp.
With a deep chuckle Iver released his own pent-up lust, and when it had drained itself into her, he gave her a hearty kiss, squeezed her plump buttock cheeks hard, and set her down again. Then he pulled up his breeks, fastening them.
She clung to him briefly to keep from falling, for at first her legs would not sustain her. “God’s toenail, Iver Leslie, I certainly hope I’ll see ye again!” she told him enthusiastically. “Yer the first man who’s ever truly satisfied me.” Bessy smoothed her skirts first, and then her hair. “We had best join the others,” she said. “I don’t want the lady realizing what we were doing.”
But Maggie hadn’t noticed the disappearance of her captain and Bessy. She had been too busy speaking with the men who watched over their borders, and giving the latest gossip to Sorcha and Mary. When they were ready to depart, Iver was relieved to see that Mary was not a big woman as was Bessy. Short and slender, she would not tire his horse unduly. He took her up behind him on his horse, and then, giving Bessy a wink, turned to make the ride home to Brae Aisir.
“The storm is coming in early,” Maggie noted as the flakes began to fall when they were but halfway home. “I hope my lord gets home safely.”
“The wind is coming from the north,” Iver said, “but ’tis barely a breeze.”
“It will rise later on,” Maggie told him. “Look at how small the flakes are. ’Twill be a serious storm, I’m thinking.” She pulled up the hood on her cloak and hunched down as she rode. Even with her fur-lined gloves, her hands were cold, her fingers stiffening and making it difficult to hold the reins.
When they finally reached the village, the snow was coming down harder. The land around them was already covered in white. They stopped briefly to let Mary down at her daughter’s cottage. It seemed the mother had arrived in the nick of time, for her child had just gone into labor; the village midwife was hurrying up to the door at the same time as the traveler. “Mam!” They heard the girl’s cry of relief as Mary rushed into the cottage.
Through the village and up the rise to the keep they rode. As they clomped across the drawbridge, Maggie could see her husband and his men just ahead of them.
She found herself relieved at the sight of Fin dismounting his stallion as she slid quickly from her own mount, tossing the reins to a stable boy as she did. Maggie smiled at him as he turned about. “I was fearful ye would get caught out in the Aisir nam Breug. The storm came earlier. Tam’s old bones aren’t quite as accurate as they once were.”
“Ye went out in this?” he asked.
“There was no snow when we departed for the far cottages,” Maggie told him. “I took Iver and several of the men with me. I don’t like staying indoors all the time, my lord. And a good thing we went too. We had to bring back one of the women for her daughter’s lying-in. Mary arrived just in time. The lass was already in labor.”
They walked together into the hall, brushing the snow from themselves as they came. The old laird looked up, relief upon his face.
“Now, Grandsire,” Maggie teased him, “certainly ye weren’t worried. I’ve been out in worse than this, and ye know it.”
“Of course, I wasn’t fearful for ye,” Dugald Kerr prevaricated.
Maggie laughed, and going to him planted a kiss on his forehead.
“Sit down, sit down,” the laird said to them both. “Well, Fin, how was the pass this day? Was all well?”
“I rode the hills above the Aisir nam Breug and went to the farthest watchtower first. Then we made our way back. All was as it should be, Dugald. The towers were well stocked with food and fire-wood, and the men were ready for the storm. From my vantage point I could see the Netherdale Kerrs just passing over the border. They did not see me.”
