“Ye think she should take ye as ye are. Well, me boy, I have news fer ye; the church can quack on all it wants about a woman’s duty, but not a one o’ these men are married or ken a damn thing about women. Women are not the simple creatures the church makes ’em out to be. In truth, I think they’re about as unsimple as can be. And they can make yer life heaven on earth or eternal hell. If yer willin’ to suffer the hell, then stand firm on this. But if ye wish yer wife to come to ye willingly, then take a damn bath!”

He paused to take a calming breath before resting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “And if that doesn’t help ye, I can tell ye this much. Yer mother was about as perfect a woman as ever walked this earth, but she would’ve booted me from her bed as soon as look at me, did I go to her smelling o’ manure, sweat, and filth.”

When Duncan’s eyes widened incredulously at that, Angus nodded firmly. “A stickler was yer mother. Liked a clean home. Like yer wife. And liked a clean bed with a clean man in it. She made me bathe once a week. At least.”

“Nay,” Duncan denied at once. “Ye bathe twice a year—”

“I bathe twice a year now,” Angus corrected grimly. “And I wouldn’t even do that did I not start to smell so bad I offend even mesel’.” Shaking his head sadly, he confessed, “I don’t like to bathe. I used to, but no more. It reminds me o’yer mother. We use to bathe together. Frolicking and teasing each other with the water and soap…” His eyes clouded and drifted far away. Back to when his beloved Muireall had been alive. He stayed like that for a moment, memories playing out on his face; then his gaze cleared and he sighed. “It breaks me heart to step into a bath kenning she’ll never join me there again. Or anywhere else.”

“But no one here at Dunbar bathes more than twice a year.”

“Duncan,” Angus interrupted, “’Tis fair unpleasant to bathe, then get back into a stinking plaid. No one has complained ’cause they knew ye wished to make a better life fer them. So they kenned they would have to give up some things ’til ye saved enough to do so.”

“But we have enough now, and the men don’t bathe.”

“Because ye haven’t bathed. They are following yer example.” Suddenly impatient, he shook his head with disgust. “Ye told me yersel’ that yer wife smell of flowers, and judging by the way ye said it I would guess it pleases ye. How would ye like it did she smell as ye do?”