The whipping post at Fort William-Henry.
These MacKinnon brothers are just a bit too popular for their own good. I had to wait for Connor to get good and drunk because I knew he wouldn’t answer some of these questions unless there was rum in his vein. So while we wait a few more minutes for him to drink, I thought I'd mention that his brothers, Iain and Morgan, are currently ahead in the Fairy Godmother Menage A Trois poll (hmm, that sounds strange, doesn't it?). I neglected to include an entry for "Reece and Mr. Jiggle Stick," which would have gotten at least one vote if I'd remembered to include it. So, if that's the menage you'd ask your Fairy Godmother to provide, just send me an email.
We’ll start with Ronlyn’s question for Morgan, so that Connor can have a bit more time with his flask.
For Morgan: Would you *really* have been able to leave Amalie behind?
Morgan: Aye, but only for her sake. If not for that mac-dìolain Rillieux, I would have left her on our weddin’ night. I’d have crept out by the postern gate and made my way to the river and then to the forest beyond. I couldna have stayed, and I couldna have taken her from the safety of the fort’s walls. It is strange to say it, but I see the hand of the Almighty in what happened that night. For if Rillieux had not taken us both, I’d ne’er have seen her again.
For Connor: Now that you're leading the Rangers, how do you relax during your downtime? AND (ok, so it's two questions) after watching both brothers fall in love with their wonderful wives, do you have a fanstasy woman in mind?
Connor: When I’m given leave, I go back the farm to see my family. My nephews and my wee niece — they grow like weeds! Iain Cameron has the run of the house now. And the twins — my namesake, Connor, and little Joseph, they look so like Morgan. Sweet Mara is as fair as her mother. Aye, Iain will have his hands full when she nears womanhood, so he will.
When I’m in camp, I enjoy a gill of rum wi’ my men, talkin’ of friends lost and battles won, listening to Dougie play.
And whene’er I’m sent to Albany, why then I pay a visit to the pub in search of ale and the pleasurable company of women. There are a goodly few in Albany who consider it a joy to pass the night wi’ me.
A fantasy woman? [grins] Are you askin' me if there's a woman in my mind when I... um... Can you truly be askin' me that?
Connor, I think she means to ask whether you have an ideal woman in mind when you think of the sort of woman you might love and wish to marry.
Connor: Forgi'e me. I misunderstood. I dinnae let myself think on that. I'm no' the sort of man a good lass would wish to marry.
For Connor: Connor take care, because I want to see you happily married to the love of your life with at least a half dozen little Connors running around your home and a few sweet little lasses that look just like their mother.
Connor: ’Tis kind of you to make such a wish for me, but… [shakes head, takes a drink from his flask] Some men are meant to take wives and father children. Look at Iain. Or Morgan! Or young Brendan. He’s got two daughters, that one does. But I… I ken naugh’ but this war. Strange to say, but I’ve fought the French longer than either of my brothers. I was three-and-twenty when Wentworth forced us to take the King’s schilling. I sometimes wonder… If the war ends, what will become of men like me? ’Tis a waste of time to think upon. The future holds naugh' of the sort for me. I’ve long kent that this war will be the end of me. I will die in battle.
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On that cheerful note, I thought I'd mention that I do have one question for Lord William Wentworth that I've saved up. So if you have more questions for the MacKinnon Brothers or for Lord William, email them to me. In the meantime, Barbara's contest is still going on, and there are a few more days to vote in my latest silly poll.