A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 19

"Never have I so enjoyed the act of sex with a man. You drive me crazy. I'm climaxing again. You're a stallion."

He gave a few more thrusts in her, thrusts she barely felt, preparatory to his pulling out of her and spraying his seed all over her stomach. He allowed her to get up and wipe herself off. She climbed back into bed with him and ran her hand over his chest.

"Master, you have truly shown me what it is to be a woman. I can hardly wait for the time when you make me your wife and I can enjoy being with you every night. May I lie here with you and enjoy your company. Perhaps you can show me pleasure once more before I leave."

"Yes, you may."

"Thank you, Master."

She snuggled up to him and held his cock, praying he wouldn't get hard again. She considered how long she'd been here and how far Màiri may have gotten in the time she had. She hoped it was enough, but she couldn't avoid talking about it any longer.

"When did your female captive die, Master?"

"Dead? She's not dead."

"When I saw her empty cage downstairs, I assumed she died and you buried her body."

"Her cage is empty? And you said nothing before this?" Blackthorne said, getting up to put on his breeches. Teárlag put on nothing, she had not yet been granted leave to dress. He went to his passage, started heading down the stairs, Teárlag trailing after.

"When last I saw her, she was nearly dead. She could barely speak. Didn't she die?" Teárlag asked.

"No, she was alive this morning. Alive and caged." He nearly stumbled in his haste to get down the stairs. Teárlag was tempted to push him, but feared if she were unsuccessful. "Why didn't you speak before this?"

"I surmised you would not wish this discussed in front of others, Master. And then you were making such passionate love to me, I forgot to ask, but if I believed her dead, why would I ask about her. She could barely move, barely speak, when last I saw her. That was over a week ago. Why wouldn't she be dead?"

"Because I didn't want her dead, you fool. They don't die unless I want them dead."

He lit a couple torches and rushed over to her cage. She was gone, just as Teárlag said. He examined the latch. It didn't appear broken.

"How could she have escaped? There is no way."

"Was she being fed? Perhaps those feeding her were careless with the latch," Teárlag surmised. I hope she got away, she thought. Far, far away, where this bastard can never get her again.

"If those imbeciles let her escape, I'll have their hides!" Blackthorne said. "I will not stand for such incompetence."

"She can't have gone far in her condition, Master. I'm sure you can recover her. She may be lying dead in the tunnel, it's the only way she could have gotten out."

"Did you see her?"

"No, Master, but a candle doesn't cast much light. I walk along the wall and the other side is in shadows. If she was there, I might not have seen her. You can send men into the tunnel with torches, search both sides. Even if she's not there, she can't get far. Where would she go? How far could she go in her condition?"

"Back to the damn Cameron's is where!" He exclaimed. "Go on, get out of here. You need to leave before I send searchers out. I don't want you seen."

"Immediately, Master."

Teárlag rushed back to his room and quickly dressed, coming back down as soon as she was ready.

"When is your carriage due to return?" Blackthorne asked. "I'll have to wait until you're gone before I send searchers out."

"In about an hour. It will take me half that to get back to the pick up point. I will walk the opposite side of the tunnel as I leave, and if I find her, I will rush right back and tell you, Master. I'm sorry. If I'd but realized she'd escaped, I would have spoken sooner."

"Go, go. The sooner you're gone, the sooner I can look for her."

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master, again; for giving me such pleasure. I'll hurry as fast as I can. They may be back early."

Teárlag lit a candle and left, appearing to look carefully along the right side of the tunnel until he closed the door behind her, then she hurried, hoping not to find Màiri in the tunnel unless she were dead, else Teárlag may end up in Blackthorne's cage begging some stranger to kill her. The thought made her shudder. Unfortunately, being close to Midsummer meant it was light later than usual. It might be after nine before it was totally dark. It still gave Blackthorne's men several hours to search for her.

Please God, she prayed, protect us both from Blackthorne.

******

Their party returned to Lady Luck Farms rather early, but had a multitude of things to do. Frang immediately sought out William Craig to discuss anything that may have happened in his absence. Isobel did the same with the head housekeeper. After getting a report on the status of the household, Isobel decided to speak about the change she intended making, installing Jinny as the new head housekeeper.

"Mrs. McGillivrey, there's something else that I wanted to speak to you about as well."

"Yes, milady?"

"You have put in a good number of years as head housekeeper for which I am extremely grateful. You've always done an excellent job and I've always enjoyed working with you."

"Thank you, milady."

"You've given the best years of your life to this farm and I think you should have a little time to rest."

"You're letting me go, milady?"

"I'm not letting you go, Mrs. McGillivrey. I'm bringing in someone younger to assume your position, but you'll always have a home here, and a pension at half salary. I want to put someone younger in while you're available to assist in training her and for the knowledge and guidance you can provide. You've worked so hard for us, I'd like you to be able to take it easier than you can as head housekeeper. Sleep in later, retire earlier. By helping train the new person, I know she'll be able to run things as capably as you. If she has questions or problems, she can turn to you for help. There should be a reward for your many years of service. You shouldn't have to work so hard at your age."

"Excuse me, Lady Isobel, but it don't feel like no reward, being replaced."

"I know it may not seem that way now, but you would have more time to spend with your grandchildren; and the eldest of those is going to have a child, too, so even your great grandchildren. I'm giving you more time to be with them. I want that for you. I'm replacing you as head housekeeper, not as my friend. You'll still be here, helping guide me as you always have, without having to work so hard. If I wait until you die to replace you, I'd have no one to train them properly, nor would you get more time with your family. Please believe I'm not doing this because of any inability or error on your part. I'm doing it because I love you and want what's best for you."

"Well," she admitted, "I admit it's been harder to get up in the mornings than times past, but I've always done it for you."

"Of course you have. I admire how hard you work, how you put up with McTavish and his ugly ways. It's why I want you to have a home here, always. You're not useless. I shall continue to depend on you in many ways, as will, I expect, the new person. She has no experience as head housekeeper and will need to be taught lots of things, I'm sure. Can I tell you a secret, though I don't know how long it will remain so?"

"Aye, milady. Of course, and you needn't worry about me flappin' my gums."

"I'm pregnant. I'll be having a child, and never having had children before, I may also need your advice with the bairn. I can't very well get your help raising children while you're still head housekeeper. You'd have no time to do both. This way, I have benefit of your experience to train a new person and your own knowledge raising children to help me with mine."

"Milady, tis wonderful news. Is it the young Laird's?"

"He will treat the child as his, and that is enough."

"Of course I'll help in any way I can. Is it someone here? I'd not think any of them are ready for the job."

"No, her name is Jinny and she's from Cameron Keep," Isobel said. "She's been head seamstress there. She's the one sewed my wedding dress. Stayed up half the night to do it as we had so little time to prepare. She's responsible and ready for more. Cameron Keep already has a housekeeper without your years on her. I think you'll get along well with her if you give her a chance."

"Unless she's a complete dunderhead, I'll train her right, milady."

"Thank you, Mrs. McGillivrey. I knew I could count on you."

After speaking with Mrs. McGillivrey, Isobel went looking for Cyrus McTeague. She found him working on his footwork. She watched him for several minutes without speaking. The look of concentration on his face was so intent. He really was determined to master the new weapon.

"Good news, Mr. McTeague. Ailene said I may continue my fencing for a little while, at least until I begin to show more. She's told Frang to give me a heavy leather piece for my stomach, just in case I get poked in the belly, but I can continue your training."

"Is the baby Cameron's or McTavish's?"

Isobel looked around to ensure they were alone.

"McTavish's child, though we're not saying as such to any but our closest friends. We'll say it's Frang's child to avoid any issues with McTavish. We think it's close enough to the time I left that most people will believe it Frang's, especially since I never conceived before now."

"I can see the logic of that. Will Frang mind raising another man's child as his own?"

"He says he will not. Each of the Cameron boys were born of a different mother and all substantially raised by Stuart's mother, who loved all her sons equally. He believes her example will allow him to treat the bairn as his own."

"He's a good man, the young Laird."

"I believe him to be, Mr. McTeague, which brings me to the real reason I came to see you."

"How can I help you?"

"McTavish left me terrified of men. So scared was I to be with another man, I never wished to marry again. Frang understands my fears and has not insisted we consummate our marriage. He's willing to wait as long as he must to do so, but I would prefer it sooner than later."

"Aye, but I'm unsure what you want from me."

"I would like you to get me some rope and show me how to tie some knots, Mr. McTeague."

He looked at her with a puzzled look.

"I asked Stuart's wife, Ailene, if she could suggest aught to help me overcome my dread. She suggested I tie Frang down so he cannot move, or grab me nor do anything not of my will. She said if I felt I was in total control and could proceed at my own speed and do only what I wanted, when I wanted; I might find it easier to be with him. I intend to tie him to the bed, Mr. McTeague, giving me control of the situation. It may be the only way I can do this."

"Well now. That may be the strangest thing I ever heard; a wife tying her husband down in order to have sex with him. I can see where it might help you with your fear. Do you think the Laird will allow it?"

"Ailene believes he would be amenable if it resulted in sex earlier than I might otherwise be ready. He's been very tolerant and understanding, so I hope he will."

"Aye, I can find some rope and teach you some knots. They'll hold well enough, without hurting, but you won't be able to tie them unless he's agreeable."

"I'll wait right here, Mr. McTeague, while you find the rope."

She waited patiently for him to return. He returned with a good length of rope and he sat down with Isobel.

"You should be able to cut this rope into four lengths to serve your purpose, Lady Isobel. The first knot I'll show you is a slip knot. I'd recommend you use this one to fasten to rope to the bed."

Cyrus showed it to her and had her practice until she got it right. It didn't take long as it was similar to a knot she used in sewing.

"You learned it easy enough. You should have no problem with it," Cyrus said.

"Why can't I use this one on his hands and feet as well?" Isobel asked. "You could slip it right over his wrists and tighten it down."

"Aye, you could, but it's a slip knot, see, and if he should pull against it, which he might do, even if not struggling to escape, it will pull tighter and cut off blood flow to his hands and feet. Strangle them, as it were, and might do damage to his limbs. It's why you can use them on the bedpost. You don't care if they get tighter around the post, you can't hurt the wood. For the hands and feet, you want to tie a bowline knot. It forms the same loop to fasten around his wrists and ankles, but won't pull tighter even if they're tugged against. Let me show you that one."

He demonstrated the bowline and had her tie it several times until she got it right each time.

As she practiced, she asked, "Where did you learn about knots, Mr. McTeague?"

"I tried my hand at fishing as a young man. Most men who go to sea learn a lot about lines and knots. Turns out my guts don't appreciate the motion of the boat, so I didn't stick with it more than a couple days. I was sick all the time. Then I was pressed by the English Navy onto a Man-O-War. I had the same problem aboard their ship, so they didn't keep me more than six months. Created more work than I accomplished by puking all the time, while being too sick for duty. I got weak, thin as a rail because I couldn't keep anything down. They finally threw me off the ship. Actually gave me a letter to give to press gangs if they tried to take me again so they wouldn't waste their time with me. Serves them right. I puked on the Captain's best uniform. I might have been able to miss him, but it seemed expedient to my cause to get off the ship. Cost me ten lashes, but I was gone first port after that. Learned a lot in the six months, though, including dozens of knots."

Isobel laughed. "The English Navy's loss was our gain, Mr. McTeague."

"You seem to have the knot down, Lady Isobel, tie it around my wrists a few times so you can get it snug without being too tight."

She handily did so three straight times, neither too tight nor so loose Cyrus could slip his hand through the loop.

"I'll show you one more knot, Lady Isobel. A variation of the bowline called the slip bowline. It's done almost the same except instead of passing the head of the line through the hole the last time, you pass a loop." He demonstrated the knot and it was almost exactly the same. "The loops for his arms and legs won't get tighter like the bowline, but it's easy to release after you're done, just by pulling the end like this." He showed her how easy it was to release the knot. "It may not make any difference the first time you do this, but at some point, you're going to have to release him to see if you can couple without him being tied down. Might be best to do it in the middle of the process when you're both excited and doing well. This knot means you can release his hands easily and give him some of the control back when you're ready to do so. Try tying it a few times."

She did so, having no trouble with the variation.

"Thank you, Mr. McTeague, for your assistance. I'm sure Lord Cameron will appreciate it."

"Don't bother yourself, Lady Isobel. I was happy to help."

That night, at dinner, she asked Frang not to come to their room until 9:00, to which he readily agreed as he still had to go through the accounts. Her bath was waiting for her, Frang not having forgotten to arrange for the practice to continue. Having cut the line earlier in the kitchen, she fastened ropes to all four corners of the bed before getting in the bath. After getting out and drying off, she pulled out the nightgown Teárlag had given her. She held it against her body, appreciating again the lightness and fineness of the material.

"No matter how tired he may be," she murmured to herself, "this should arouse his interest."

She slipped it on over her head and the softness as it slipped over her breasts made her nipples tighten to hard pebbles, prominently displayed in the nightgown. The garment clung to her curves like a second skin, more revealing than hiding. She even thought she could detect the slight swelling of her stomach caused by the growth of the bairn inside. A mother, she thought, I'm going to be a mother and I'm married to another man, a gambler, no less. She shivered. Even her goose bumps seemed to show under the wispy fabric. She heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Isobel asked. Though she believed it to be Frang, she could not open the door to anyone but him while wearing this.

"Frang. It's 9:00, Isobel."

She stood by the bed and said, "Come in."

Frang took one step into the room and seeing Isobel and what she wore, he stopped dead. He stared at her, the hunger igniting in his eyes as he contemplated the vision before him.

"You might want to close the door, husband, unless you want everyone to see your wife like this."

He shut to door and approached her. She started to back away, suddenly afraid of his hungry look as drew near. Frang noticed and stopped, not wanting to scare her.

"Where did you get this night dress, Isobel? I've never seen the like."

Isobel stopped backing when Frang stopped, realizing he remained in control of himself.

"Teárlag gave it to me as a wedding present, Frang."

"Remind me to thank her the next time I see her. I feel she gave it to me. You're so beautiful, Isobel. May I approach?"

Confident Frang would continue to honor his agreement even after seeing her like this, she said., "Aye."

Moving slowly so as not to startle her, Frang moved closer, taking in every detail of how wonderful she looked. The translucence, the body clinging tightness, every curve accentuated, the thatch of red hair faintly visible, dimpling the fabric at her sex. Her nipples faintly visible in color, and poking at the fabric, calling attention to themselves. He realized he'd been holding his breath and slowly released it.

"My God, I've never seen anything like it!" Frang exclaimed stopping when he was an arms length away. "What is it?"

"Silk, from China, Teárlag said," Isobel answered. "Do you like it?"

"Need you ask?" Frang said. "Have you not looked at yourself in the mirror?"

"Aye, but I still didn't know if you would like it."

"I love it. I can barely breathe, Isobel. It's like a dream. May I touch it? May I touch you?"

"Aye, my Lord."

She stood still as his hand bridged the gap between them, touching her side, then slowly sliding up. His thumb moving up over her breast, touching her nipple, making it swell more. She gasped and he withdrew his hand.

"It's so smooth," he said, "so light, so thin. It's almost like touching your skin."

"I felt it too," she said. "Your hands are normally so rough and work hardened, but the material made your touch soft and soothing." She smoothed the fabric over her hips and said, "Wash the dust of the road and the day off, my husband. I've kept the water hot for you."

He glanced at the tub. "I'll have to remove my clothes and I warn you, seeing you has made me hard."

"I saw it this morning. I'm sure I can take the sight of it again tonight."

Nodding, Frang removed his clothes and climbed into the tub. As he said, his cock was rigid, almost angry looking in it's hardness, standing out from his body like a lance. Isobel poured more hot water in.

"Aaah. That does feel good," he said. "It's been a long day."

"Frang, I would like to try something tonight," Isobel said.

"What would that be, my love?"

"I would like to tie you to the bed."

"Isobel, I promised I wouldn't touch you until you're ready. You don't have to tie me down. I won't bother you if you don't wish it."

"I do wish it Frang, though I'm still in dread. Ailene suggested if I tie you down, I would feel more in control. I could proceed at my own pace, without you grabbing or seizing me. She said if I felt in control, it might ease my fear. We must consummate our marriage to make it legal and keep McTavish from ever having a claim to me or the bairn. Enough people are aware we haven't had sex yet that word may yet get out to the wrong ears. We need to do this and I am certain this is the only way for it to happen anytime soon."