AN: Well, what better day to post than St. Andrew's Day and Ana's birthday?
Watching Will don his kilt in our room was entertaining, if nothing else. It was a massive spread of plaid that he had laid across the floor, pleating it and passing a belt underneath it. Clad in only his shirt and knee high stockings he laid down and flipped it over his waist. He glared at me from where I was watching, "Ana, this isn't funny. It's a part of me, you know."
"Oh, I know." I mumbled from behind my fingers, trying to hide my smile. "I'm just enjoying the show."
He grunted as he secured the belt around himself. "Why in God's name I have to wear this, when you get away with that," He jerked his chin at my airsedh, once again pleated and secured around my shoulders. "I will never understand."
I extended a hand to help him up. "For once, I'm not the one wearing the most fabric."
"Lass," He surged to his feet, catching me around the waist and spinning me around. "I'll see all that fabric on the floor by the time the day is through."
I chuckled, placing a kiss on his lips. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"Both." He laughed, setting me back on my feet. "Now, come on, we should get going before Reggie sees me in this. Next thing you know he'll be wanting to iron the damn thing." Will tucked the trailing sides of his plaid up around the skirt of his kilt as he made our way out of the inn and into town.
I glanced around the empty streets, seeing the thin gray light slowly beginning to make itself known. "Or is it because you don't want anyone to see you in your kilt?"
"Oh, they'd hardly care here." Will smiled, his boots tramping along the stone streets and quickly moving us through town. "Although in New York, well, I'm afraid not even you could get me to wear this there."
My own boots were struggling to keep up, my skirt allowing me to take a longer stride than I was used to. "Oh, come now. You can't keep this only for Scotland, I have to be able to see this at home."
His kilt brushed against my own plaid, we had gained the outskirts of the town where the buildings began to fall away and the fields took over. "Ana, you know the papers would love nothing more than to make fun of me."
"And you know I wouldn't allow that." I tossed back, shaking my head for emphasis. "We could hold a costume party and you could come as the Bonnie Prince, they can't say boo about that." His laugh echoed across the hills, which we were slowly making our way into. The land around Dalbeattie was truly beautiful, all rolling hills and forests. It was different from the few times I'd been out in the upstate forests, all of us society girls going out for fresh air and exercise away from the corrupting influence of the city.
The forests there had been small, almost manicured and maintained with their clearly defined paths and trails. It had even felt scheduled, with out governesses carrying picnic baskets behind us and all of us dining on china plates in a picturesque grove of trees. Here, the trees were huge and towered tall above us as we wove our way through the brush. What trail there was was only marked by the absence of said brush, and we were steadily gaining height as we zigzagged back and forth across hills. Eventually, Will paused. "Hear that?"
I paused briefly, my ears straining. "I think so, a waterfall?"
"Not quite, a brook fed from a spring." He grinned, starting up for the sound. "Come on, it's close." I held in a sigh of relief, climbing these hills was fast becoming tiring and it sounded as if this spring would be a good place to have a rest. We came across the brook shortly, it was shallow and burbled happily along its way down the hill. We followed it up, Will having to help me up the last bit. He grinned as we reached the spring, "Ah, here we are."
"Looks like a lovely place to take a break." I remarked, stretching my arms out and considering our surroundings. It was a lovely clearing, tall grass surrounding a clear spring that trailed out into the brook. Sunlight filtered through the trees above us, and it was actually rather warm. I took in a deep breath, relishing the crisp smell of trees and running water. "Don't you think so?"
Will chuckled, sitting down beside the spring. "It always has been, we all used to go hiking and would always stop by." He pinched his nose as I sat down next to him. "Ma always liked it, but she can't make it this far anymore."
I leaned against him. "Well, at least you showed it to me. We can always come back, maybe bring her a picture of this place."
"Aye, we should get a camera." He put an arm around me, "I would love for her to have more pictures of us."
"Then it sounds as if we'll need to do some shopping in London." I pressed a kiss to his cheek. "So long as you're amenable to that." I couldn't help but smile at something I had planned, but he was unaware of, that I had already called ahead to set up an appointment for him at a Savile Row tailor's shop. A side trip to acquire a camera was nothing compared to that.
"I am amenable to far more than shopping." Will turned, catching my chin in his other hand. "Such as you in that plaid, have I ever told you how well those colors suit you?"
I snorted. "You know they don't."
"Oh, but they do." His fingers traced their way up to my lips. "Especially the green, it makes you such a bonnie lass."
"Ah, so I'm finally a proper Scot then?" I cocked an eyebrow, seeing him catch himself from laughing aloud. "I'm only joking, I know you're Scottish enough for the both of us." He simply shook his head at that, then rushed in for a kiss. I melted into it, letting our tongues dip into each other's mouths. As usual, Will's hands went right for my waist to pull me tight to him. I wound my arms around him, tracing my fingers through his hair.
He pulled back for a moment, sighing. "Ah, Ana, God that feels nice."
"Will," I nuzzled at his neck, kissing along his throat. My hands had already begun working on his buttons when his fingers caught mine. I glanced up. "Is there something wrong?"
"There's a one good thing about kilts." He gently pushed me back from him, undoing the belt around his waist. The pleats he had worked on so exquisitely this morning were quickly gone as he spread the plaid out over the grass. Clad in only his shirt and stockings, he leaned me back on it. "They make a wonderful blanket."
"For sleeping out in the woods?" I murmured as he laid himself down next to me.
He chuckled, reaching over and adjusting my own plaid so that it was out of the way of what was to come. "Or for making love to my wife." Will pulled me to him again, and I eagerly responded. He seemed content to take it slow, taking his time to trace his lips across every inch of my face, his hands roaming down my waist to my hips, gently tugging my skirt up. I tried to shift myself as he did, doing what I could to help him.
I sat up, dislodging him. "Here, just a minute." I stood, hiking my skirt and petticoat up to my waist before laying back down. "Better?"
"Much." Will grinned, his blue eyes dark as he took in my legs that were already slightly parted for him. He settled between them, his lips returning to my neck as he gently pushed two fingers into me. I sighed, my breathing becoming fast as he stroked me. Will pressed a kiss to my ear, "You can be as loud as you like, you know. There's no one to hear us here."
"Will," I gasped out as he began to stroke faster. "Fuck, ah."
"God, I love it when you curse." He grunted, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with the stiff length that had been pressed against me for some time. I gave a little cry as he slid in, clutching his shoulders and thrusting my own hips against his. He grunted, "Agh, Ana, every time, ah, I can't believe how you feel."
"Will," I panted, pushing myself up against him. "You're so good, God, don't stop." He surged against me at that, kissing me relentlessly as our hips surged together. I couldn't keep myself from moaning into the kiss, and I worried for a moment that I was going to tear his shirt when I clenched around him, a herald of what was to come. It was only a matter of time before it did, especially when Will reached down to urge me to move one leg up over his shoulder and set one hand to teasing me to new heights. I didn't stay quiet when the moment came, although I managed to not hurt my voice as I fell apart around him.
"Such a noisy wife." Will grunted, although he was smiling. His smiles only lasted a moment longer before his mouth dropped open, groaning as he finished. He pressed a kiss to my cheek as he settled onto me, and I returned it. God, would I ever get used to this? The feeling of being filled and the strange comfort of him on top of me, the way he would mutter sweet nothings against my shoulder as we both came down from the highs we had reached.
I pressed my lips to his cheek over and over. "I love you Will, so much."
"And I love you, my beautiful wife." He chuckled, rolling off me but collecting me to his side. "Although I think our bed might be a bit more comfortable than this grass."
"I thought the kilt was supposed to help with that?" I teased, burrowing closer to him. He tickled me in response, making me squeal for a moment, although he did reach down and pull the rest of the kilt over us as a breeze kicked up. I twisted my legs around his, resting my head on his chest as I looked up at the sky, what little I could see of it through the trees. "I love it here, Will."
"I'm glad," His hand stroked up and down my back, the repeated motion making my eyes drift shut. "I want to come back here Ana, with our children, and our grandchildren. I want them to love this place."
"They will, I just know it."
"But we won't be doing this in front of them."
"Obviously," I snorted. "Think about it though, Newport, Dalbeattie, Southampton, our children will be very well travelled." I pressed a kiss to his throat, "Although not quite as much as their father."
"Or grandfather." Will moved up to brush his hand through my hair. "Both of them, I would think. We should mark down everywhere we've been, and our families have, to show them someday."
"Mmmm, that would be nice." I could barely think as he trailed his fingers through my hair. I must have dozed off at some point, exhausted from the hike and the lovemaking. I couldn't help myself, not when I was draped over my husband, who it seemed was as warm as a radiator. By the time Will stirred beneath me and I had to roll off so that he could pleat his kilt again, the breeze had kicked up significantly and I was not the only one shivering as we started back down the hills.
Will grumbled, running his hands over his arms to warm them. "Bloody kilts, can't stay warm in them."
"Do you want my plaid?" I glanced over, "Until we reach town?"
"No, no, it's fine." He pressed forward, "We just need to get home, shouldn't be too much longer." It was still blowing hard when we reached the outskirts of town, and clouds were quickly blowing in. We were just lucky it wasn't raining when we reached the house.
"Ach, look at the two of ye." Peg fussed over us as we stepped in. "Lucky you're not half dead, what were ye thinkin' wearin' that?" She flicked a hand dismissively at Will's kilt. "Especially with nothin' warm underneath."
"I was thinkin' it was summer." Will shook his head, but he was smiling. "But I forgot what a Scottish summer is."
I looked to him. "What is a Scottish summer?"
"Oh," Peg cut him off, collecting my arm and towing me after her. "It can go from warm and sunny to wet and cold in a moment, he shoulda known better." She laughed, glancing back to Will who was trailing in our wake. "Now, I've got everythin' gutted and ready. But I'll need yer help."
"I'll help where I can." I glanced back at Will with a shrug. The Murdoch kitchen was like the rest of the house, rather small and cramped but Peg and I had space to move around each other. She stationed me at a cutting board, with the mission to dice an onion. I looked down at it, trying to reason out the best way to do it. I'd had onions before, and they never had the roots or the papery skin, so those would need to come off. I took the knife that had been left for me, gently trying to cut away the roots.
Peg, walking past with a handful of spices, snorted and took it from me. "It can't bite ye, just give it a good cut." She demonstrated, slicing away the roots with one swift movement. "Now, get that skin off and cut it in half before you get to slicin'. And don't mind it making ye cry, we all do."
"Cry?" I turned, trying to catch her attention, but she was already focused on the two fish. I couldn't help but be awed as she quickly had them scaled and filleted, her knife work quick and sure, while I tried to slice into the flesh of my onion as it quickly had me tearing up. I was rather difficult to see my cuts, although I managed not to cut myself, but my diced onion was not very pretty at the end of it.
Peg must have heard me sighing over it, for she came over. "Don't worry, it'll still taste fine. Now, come over here and help me season the fish." Seasoning was much easier than dicing, I found, and I quite enjoyed learning all the different spices that Peg was using on the fish. Parsley, thyme, rosemary, tarragon, all mixed with salt and rubbed into the fish. Wheels of lemon tucked around them as they went into the oven. Peg wiped her hands down after setting the water for the rice to boil, "Well, nothin' left but ta wait."
"I hope I wasn't in the way." I blushed a bit, "I haven't had to cook much."
"It's fine," She shrugged, "It'll come with time, although ye should ask yer cook back home ta teach ye some. It's all practice, and 'tis a good skill to have."
"Of course."
"Now," Peg looked me up and down, "Yer wearin' yer plaid again, tryin' to butter Will up a bit? Or is it me Da?"
"Ah," I shook my head. "I asked him to wear his kilt today while we went hiking, I figured I would do the same."
She laughed at that, smiling widely. "Well, Da will certainly be glad ta see him in it. He was rather put out when he came back up from Southampton last year, he kept goin' on about how Willie kept actin' English instead of how he raised him."
"I think it was more what the company wanted." I followed her as we started for the dining room, Peg pulling down a tablecloth and tossing me an end of it. At least this was simple, unlike chopping an onion. "Although he could get away with it now, I'm sure his boss won't mind."
Peg actually snorted as she pulled out plates. "Ye don't, do ye? But doesnae he work fer some hard, whip crackin' company owner?"
"Oh yes," I shook my head as I helped her set out the plates and silverware. "I am such a slave driver, I hardly let him have time to come home." We continued joking in that vein for awhile, getting the table fully set before returning to the kitchen. It smelled absolutely delicious, and I took several long sniffs as Peg opened the oven to check on it.
She was waving her hands after she closed it, "Could ye go let everyone know that dinner's ready? I can take it to the table." I nodded, hoping that I remembered the way back to the parlor. In the end, I only took two wrong turns before coming back to the warm and cozy parlor. I paused outside the door, glancing in. Jeanie was in in her chair by the fire, the blanket I had brought her spread across her legs. Samuel was sat by her, and Will had pulled a chair up closer to the both of them. They were all smiling, and I could see the way Will patted his mother's hand, so gentle and caring.
I rapped on the door frame. "Dinner's ready."
"Will, help yer Ma to the table." Samuel said, rising. He collected the blanket as Jeanie stood, folding it and tucking it under an arm before passing over her cane. She leaned heavily on both it and her son, and I could see Samuel wince as she took a good amount of time to come to the parlor door. He offered me an arm as we followed them, "Aren't ye a bonnie lass today?"
"Thank you, Samuel." I nodded, trying to not remark on how Jeanie was taking longer and longer to walk.
"Ach, 'tis nothin'." He grinned, clearly trying to bring a little levity to the moment. "And thank ye fer gettin' me son into his kilt today, his Ma was so happy to see him in it."
Jeanie clearly heard him as we entered the dining room, looking up as Will helped her into a chair. "Oh, he is a handsome lad when he wears it isn't he, Anastasia?"
"Oh, the handsomest." I smiled as my husband came over, his cheek rather red as he handed me into my own chair. Peg had already placed down platters with both fish and was humming happily as she came in with the bowl of rice and onions.
Will looked at the spread on the table, "It looks very nice, well done to the both of you."
"Oh," I demurred, "It was mostly Peg. She had to help chop an onion, I really didn't do much."
"You need ta practice more then," Jeanie said, nodding as Samuel passed out portions of both fish and spooned out rice for everyone. Jeanie kept talking as everyone else tucked in. "A wife should be able ta cook her husband's favorite meals."
Will coughed. "Well, I'm sure Mrs. Vangerten could follow the recipes if you sent them over."
"Nae Will," She shook her head, her fork trembling slightly as she cut into her salmon. "There are some things a wife should know, cookin' is one o' them." She glanced over at me though, her voice softening. "Every meal tastes better when made by hands that love ye, dear. That's all."
"And this one is excellent." Samuel cut in, a pice of pollack quickly disappearing from his fork. "Well done, ta the both of ye."
"Thank ye, Da." Peg smiled, and the conversation moved on to the weather. Apparently a sudden blow like this wasn't uncommon around this time of year, and we could expect it to last for a few days. Peg laughed at one point, "Ma could have told ye it was gonna blow today, her knees feel it three hours before it shows up!"
Jeanie actually giggled. "'Tis not the most pleasant sensation, but it is accurate."
"I didn't know your mother was a barometer." I jokingly remarked to Will.
He chuckled, lifting a forkful of rice. "Aye, she coulda told me not ta wear the kilt today. 'Twas a mite chilly coming down." He gave a theatrical shiver, rubbing his arms like he had earlier. That drew a laugh from the whole table, although Jeanie sighed.
"'Twould be nice, ye know," She mused, setting her fork down. "Ta have a picture, of the both of ye in yer tartans, fer when ye leave." She looked down at her plate, her voice low. "I'll miss the both of ye, going back ta New York."
Will reached over for her hand. "And we'll miss ye, Ma. But I'll write letters, as will Ana." He glanced over to me, and I quickly nodded. "And we could get ye a phone, and I could call when I'm in Southampton."
"Aye, 'twould be nice." She pursed her lips, "'Tis not the same though, as having ye both here."
"Perhaps you could come over for Christmas." I offered, trying to cheer her. "Mother would be glad to have guests again, and she enjoyed your company immensely." That seemed to mollify her a bit, and the rest of the meal passed reasonably well. The early evening found us in the parlor, the blanket spread back over Jeanie's legs. I smiled, "You know, that picture you mentioned is a good idea. Would you like to take one with us?"
"Aye," She sounded happy at the thought, "Although not tomorrow, my joints are sayin' 'twill be rainin' sometime tomorrow. But the day after, and ye'll be wearin' yer full rig." She turned to Will, "Sporran and all, as will yer father." Samuel laughed at that, but he quieted when Jeanie indicated she was ready to retire.
It was Peg that walked Will and I to the door, "Ye know, I think the picture is a grand idea. She does miss ye quite a bit, ye know."
"I know." Will sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "I wish it was easier ta get here, but 'tis at least a full day of travel from Southampton."
"I know, but we are yer family." Peg pressed a hand to her temple, "And I'm not sayin' that it has ta be every time yer in England, but perhaps a bit more than ye have been." She glanced around the foyer, lingering on some of the pictures on the wall. "Have ye been ta see Mary and James since ye've been here, or Uncle Will and Uncle John?"
"Nay, I have nae." Will looked to his shoes, "I suppose I should stop by tomorrow, no reason ta spend our last day here visitin' graves, not when we're gonna make sure Ma has a good time."
"Be sure to take flowers." Peg gave him a hug, then embraced me. "The both of ye." I didn't need to ask who we were visiting tomorrow, I remembered when Will had told me two of his siblings had passed away. I didn't remark on the way Will held me close to him as we made our way back to the Burnside, it was obvious he was rather dreading the visit. So instead of asking him about what we were doing tomorrow, I instead was nothing but sweetness when we got back to our rooms.
"I'm glad you enjoyed dinner." I said, closing the door and smiling as I set my hands on his belt. "I worked very hard to cut up that onion."
Will caught my hands, "Ana, you don't need to do that." He stepped closer, sliding his arms around me. "I, I just want to hold you." He moved us to the bed, curling around me and burying his face in my shoulder. "I just want to be with you." Part of me wanted to soothe him, to try and protect him from whatever he was feeling, but I knew that wasn't what he needed. He simply needed me to be his wife, to hold him and be here with him. So I held him tightly, pressing kisses to him until I felt him relax.