This is the final chapter of A Proper Scottish Wife and I have to say goodbye to them now. It's very hard. They're like my children now and I have grown to appreciate their individual quirks and sense of humor. My wife is a lover of so called "Bodice Ripper" romances and Outlander and originally conceived of this story, of a woman and three brothers, though she'd only thought through approximately the first two chapters and it had died there. I thought the idea had merit and began to work off her original idea. I just couldn't leave one woman forced to deal with three men, so the others had to meet their own women, but who and why and what would they be like. I can't really say I wrote these characters, they wrote themselves. I was merely the pen they used to come alive. I'd like to say I entered this with a plan and had it all plotted out before setting fingers to keys, but I did not. They wrote their own story. Something would happen, and I suddenly knew what the response would be. It many ways, it's unrecognizable from how I first envisioned it. I would like to thank all of you who followed the Cameron's story and appreciate them, me, their author, and the effort it takes to write it. As they exist in the past and I mostly write about the present, I don't foresee following them any longer, which is sad, but I've thought I might be able to construct a story containing an ancestor of these remarkable people, to remember them just a little. I'm thinking of developing it as an actual novel after toning down some of the racier parts of the story. A little historical tidbit. Elizabeth Báthory is a real person and one of the possible sources of the Dracula/vampire legend along with Vlad Tepes. Enjoy.
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"Thorburn, I assume it's Thorburn and Stuart," Blackthorne said. "I'm sure he wouldn't miss the chance to rescue his lovely wife. How many others do you have in the tunnel, Thorburn? Ten, fifteen, or did you think just you and a couple others would be enough. Your other brother, perhaps. I would certainly like to know how you get into my tunnel without my sentries seeing you."
"Why should I tell you?" Thorburn growled.
"Because I'm about to remove Lady Aileen's garments and since you won't be joining us, I thought you might exchange some information for a description of what I'm doing to her. I assume you would want to know, but perhaps you don't."
Blackthorne stepped behind Ailene and grabbed her legs so she couldn't kick her and using the knife he held, cut the clothes from her body. She tried kicking and struggling as he did so, but he was strong enough to hold her while she was suspended and her clothes dropped to the floor. Blackthorne released her legs and stepped back. Ailene was hanging like a side of beef, though much prettier. She was turning and twisting in her bonds, kicking out with her legs, the epitome of feminine perfection.
"I must commend you on the beauty and grace of your wife, Stuart. She's simply superb. I've never seen a lovelier lass." He reached out and and caressed her ass and Ailene screamed. "Her ass is perfect. I'm going to enjoy pushing my cock in it. And those breasts - ideal." Blackthorne grabbed one in each hand, causing Ailene to shriek again and increase her struggling. "I wonder if they shouldn't look even better after I've marked them with my whip."
"We came in through the roof on the opposite side of the house," Thorburn said. "We've the magistrate with us. You cannot torture Ailene. She's a lady of noble birth and the King would deal harshly with any who harmed one of his innocent subjects. You might have been able to get away with torturing a maid, but you'd never get away with torturing a Lady. The King's emissary is here to witness it."
Blackthorne laughed. "The magistrate; that corrupt, venal little man. If I thought for a moment I couldn't buy his silence, he would soon learn the roads around here are filled with the worst kind of brigands and thieves. You heard what happened to poor Abner McTavish; robbed and killed on the public road, disgraceful. It's so dangerous to travel these days. I would hate for anything to happen to our beloved magistrate."
Lancaster gasped in shock. "You'd threaten the King's representative? Are you mad?" He sputtered.
"I do not threaten you, your Lordship. I merely point out how unsafe the roads are and advise you to be careful. How can that be construed as a threat? Stuart, your wife's cunt is so tight," Blackthorne said, thrusting two fingers up the dry sheath, causing Ailene to scream and thrash again. "I wonder how tight she'll be after fifty of my soldiers rape her every day for a month. Would you even feel it when you shoved your prick up her? Perhaps you'd not care to have her back. By the way, are you aware of how frequently whores who service soldiers become syphilitic. I understand it's a horrible way to die. So frequently, there's dementia involved, and the sores which pop up would horribly mar this flawless skin, though I admit she'd probably be a babbling idiot before I was done with her anyway. Máiri was just short of that level of pain. A shame she escaped. I wasn't quite done experimenting with all the things I planned doing to Lady Ailene."
"Touch a hair on her head, and I'll kill you," Stuart yelled. "I'll strip the skin off you and feed you to the rats."
"Well, that's very graphic. I'm sure you'd like to, but I've got some much more interesting torments planned for Lady Ailene which shall occur with much greater predictability than a mere hope on your part you'll ever lay your hands on me. No, I'm afraid I'm unconcerned for your threats. They mean very little to me, while I'm afraid mine for your wife carry much more weight than the worried ravings of a little boy."
"And how would you explain the condition of her body?" Thorburn asked, increasingly terrified. "It would be clear to everyone she was tortured. You couldn't hide it."
Stuart was frantic. He was pounding on the door with his fists. Frang was attempting to calm his brother with little affect.
"Well, if her body was found at the bottom of a cliff by the sea, the victim of a tragic fall while walking, the condition of her body could be easily explained by the rocks and all the fishes and crabs feeding off her corpse. Unfortunate really. You've yet to comprehend how easily wealth affords a reasonable explanation to an unseemly death. How many bodies would you suppose I've disposed of this way? Or the people disappear, never to be seen again. Inexplicable disappearances, very tragic."
"You don't want to harm her, Blackthorne. Else you wouldn't have anything to trade," Thorburn said.
"That's the crux of the matter, isn't it? Are you willing to trade your lands for the lovely Lady Ailene or will you listen to me despoiling her while you sit impotently in my tunnel, unable to act. I'm sure her screams will be clearly heard while I tell you what I'm doing to her, although your imaginations won't begin to comprehend what she's actually undergoing. Oh, look; Teárlag is waking up. She was so shocked to see the ton of dirt I'd piled up before the door. Alas, she fainted, poor lass. The disappointment was too much for her. Wake up, dear lady." Blackthorne pinched her nipples and Teárlag screeched in pain.
Ailene, while happy Blackthorne was no longer paying attention to her, wondered why he was mistreating Teárlag. Was this how he always treated her? Would he continue to do so, despite Teárlag arranging for her capture? She thought rapidly.
"Let me go and I'll twist her nipples for you; twist them right off, if you'd like, the treasonous bitch," Ailene said.
"Drop the pretense, Lady Ailene. I know this cunt's been working with you. I don't know how long, but I know. I've had my doubts about her ever since MÃ iri escaped. Then her maid brings me what looks like a map of Achnadrish and the location of my tunnel entrance. The damn thing's practically unreadable, but I can see what it is. I suspect Thorburn's spied on me, as I've spied on him and perhaps he's learned of it without her help, but her maid thought it was her handwriting. Even if he knows the significance of the house, the tunnel entrance isn't easy to find and the catch into here even harder. Practically impossible I would say. Still, I was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt, though I warned her in the severest possible terms what would happen to her if she betrayed me."
"Thorburn and Stuart saw her entering the house and she was inside for a long time. It didn't take an abundance of imagination to know she was entering a deserted house for a reason. All they had to do was look for the reason for her disappearance," Ailene said.
"You would have me believe she didn't betray me, but you were aware of her spying and act all surprised and angry now as if you just now discovered her perfidy. I'm sorry, Lady Ailene, but the logic of your tale does not agree with the known facts. After my warning, I put a line on the door attached to a bell in my room. Nothing happens for several weeks and I believe my secret remains undiscovered and perhaps Teárlag was loyal to me. Imagine my surprise when my bell rings two nights ago. Not much, a brief testing of the door perhaps. Then I learn you will be relatively unguarded and available to capture. What is the significance of these two events both occurring at the same time? An ingenious plan, Thorburn. Give me a reason to be here with a woman I've ached to lay my hands on at the same time as my tunnel is tested. It would have worked if you'd not tested the door before coming here.
"I couldn't believe my luck. The Camerons offering you to me on a platter at the same time I've learned Teárlag's betrayed me. All I have to do is block this door without you being the wiser and I'll have you without any effort. On top of which, you're giving me the false whore who's betrayed me. We're going to have so much fun. Not you perhaps, but I will. Tell me, Lady. Were you forced into this plan by the Camerons?"
"It was my plan. I volunteered. You're an evil bastard who stains the very earth you walk on," Ailene steamed. "You needed to be ended before more people were killed."
"You feel guilty you fired the maid and allowed me to get my hands on her, don't you?"
"Of course I feel guilt, not for what you did to her; that's entirely your doing, but because it was unnecessary. We had methods of dealing with theft, and I didn't follow them. But I vowed no more would suffer because of you."
"But of course you're wrong. More will suffer because of you; your plan. You'll suffer and Teárlag will suffer, and your family will suffer. Not physical pain, but the mental anguish will be horrific," Blackthorne said. "How they'll suffer. Nevertheless, you intrigue me. It makes sense Thorburn would not conceive of a plan which involved dangling you as bait in front of me. It would violate his delicate sensibilities, but that you would, is quite interesting. As is the fact you killed fifteen of my men while you were taken and Thorburn is using you to train his men. I shall greatly enjoy questioning you about all of it as we play. What is there about you would lead to these things happening?"
"A vile man like you happened," Ailene said. "I'd be perfectly willing to be a wife and mother if you didn't exist. You forced it on me. I do not wish to raise a child in a world where you live. I'd be afraid every minute for my child's safety. How many people have you tortured and killed, I wonder?"
Blackthorne laughed. "I lost track years ago. As you can see, I've had a lot of practice learning how to administer pain and no problem getting rid of any inconvenient bodies."
"How did you become the inhuman monster you are?"
"While I was in Europe as a young man I heard the tale of Elizabeth Báthory of Hungary and the tale fascinated me. Are you familiar with the story?"
"Nay."
"It is said she killed and tortured up to 650 young women, bathing in their blood to stay young. She was known as the Blood Countess. She was caught, but due to her families influence and power, never went to trial though they kept her locked in a windowless room until her death. The true number was never known, but even if it was that high, I've surpassed it. Young women disappear all the time and their fates are never known. It's assumed they've run away, become prostitutes or otherwise fallen on hard times. I perfected my skills in the slums of Paris. It's harder to find young women in these sparsely populated areas, but I have agents working on my behalf in Edinburgh, London, Manchester and Dublin. MÃ iri just walked up to my door. No one knew where she was or where she'd been. No one thought to look for her here."