A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 23

Teárlag is asked about her betrayal. Màiri is laid to rest. Ailene desires children. One scene of oral and regular sexual intercourse.

*****

"Are your servants here?" Frang asked.

"No, though I'm expecting them to arrive shortly," Teárlag said.

"Can you leave here without raising the suspicion of Blackthorne?"

"Not alone. He expects me to seduce one or all of you. As part of this plan, he expects me to spend time at Cameron Keep, but if I went there without the spies he keeps on me, my servants, I might as well tell him I'm with you. The result will be the same."

Frang thought a moment. "But if you were invited as a guest, and came with your servants, Blackthorne would be none the wiser?"

"I suppose not. It's in line with his plans."

"Could you come tonight, or is tomorrow better?"

"It would be odd if I came tonight. I don't do anything without planning. Tomorrow would be better."

"Tomorrow it is then. Please, don't leave the country."

Frang turned to leave and saw servants coming toward the house. He turned and loudly said, "We'll be expecting you tomorrow. I understand Thorburn has a big announcement to make. He's even asked us to spend the night tonight. It sounds important." Frang left, nodding to the servants as he passed. He hoped he'd been smooth enough.

Everyone else was ready to ride when he got back to the inn.

"What was that about?" Isobel asked.

"Not now," Frang replied, glancing significantly at the large crowd gathered in the common room for supper. They took his meaning and said no more.

Frang didn't speak until they were out of town and headed back towards their respective houses. When he was reasonably certain they could not be overheard, he rode up to Thorburn. "You're going to have some company tonight. We need to confer and we need to do it quickly. Teárlag will be joining us tomorrow."

"Nay, brother! I'll not have that traitorous whore in my house again. I want to kill her and if I see her again, there's no telling what I'll do. I nearly did it when she told me."

"I understand, Thorburn, I do. You feel betrayed and used. I'm sure I'd feel the same were I you. If you didn't want to see her again, I completely understand. But you've got the best strategic and tactical mind amongst us. You've been in dozens of battles against a multitude of foes. We're facing a wily enemy who'll stop at nothing, from employing women as spies, to poison, to torture, to threatening families. I need you, brother. We all need you. I'd ask you to restrain yourself from killing the lass until we've had a chance to speak to her. It's why I asked her to come tomorrow. We need more information."

"Aye. I'll try to restrain myself, but you'd best keep her as far from me as possible."

Frang put his hand on Thorburn's shoulder. "Thank you, brother."

He left Thorburn and informed the others they'd be staying at the Keep tonight and possibly the next as well. Stuart and Ailene were happy they could spend the night together. Isobel was never comfortable in McTavish's old house, but while reasonably satisfied to spend the night at the Keep, knew they had a lot to do, introducing a new housekeeper to Lady Luck. She was anxious to get started. She wondered where Frang had gone and the purpose of their staying at the Keep, but Frang said no more at the current time. Whatever his plans were, he was holding them close to his chest.

They arrived at the Keep, and due to the large contingent from Lady Luck Farm, had to find places for all to sleep. Stuart, Ailene, Muiríol and Bjarkë spent much of the next hour making those arrangements. Many had to be given beds in the barn on the hay with blankets against the night chill. Thorburn doubled the watches on the walls and gates due to the extra bodies in the Keep, many of whom he didn't know. When all was done, they met in the kitchen for a quick bite.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on, Frang?" Stuart asked. "I've never seen you so secretive before."

"Not here. Grab your food and we'll meet in Thorburn's room. It's the largest. Bjarkë, if you could stand guard outside the room and make sure no one comes near nor goes into any of the adjoining rooms, I'd thank you, uncle."

"Aye, I'll do it."

They all adjourned from the kitchen and regathered in Thorburn's bedroom, the three brothers and two wives, only Bjarkë standing guard outside.

The two women sat on Thorburn's bed, with Stuart between, Frang took a chair to face them while Thorburn paced the room.

"What's going on?" Stuart asked. "Why the secrecy?"

"You're the only one who doesn't know yet, Stuart," Frang said, voice low, "but we found another spy on Lady Luck Farm, one of the maids." Isobel and Ailene nodded in confirmation when Stuart looked at them. "She became a spy for Blackthorne not for money or gain, but because he'd threatened the lasses young sister, under ten. If she didn't cooperate, they would take her sister."

Once again he looked to Isobel and Ailene who confirmed the story.

"My God!" Stuart said, "The man's a fucking monster!"

"We already knew that from what he did to Màiri," Ailene said.

"But a child? He'd threaten a child?"

"Aye, brother," Frang said. "There's nothing so low, Blackthorne would not countenance it. We've arranged to send the family to Bjarkë's family where they'll be out of harms way and think we've ensured her cooperation by doing so. We hope she can feed false information to Blackthorne we control. The main point is we cannot trust anyone but the people in this room. Our most trusted servants, even those with us for decades, may not be trusted if Blackthorne can threaten their family. Muiríol has grandchildren. What wouldn't she do to protect them if they were threatened. The fact Màiri was tortured as she was, makes it even easier to subvert our own. No one wishes to see it happen to their own loved ones. From now on, if you don't want our information to reach that bastard's ears, the information must stay between us, agreed?"

"Aye," they all answered.

"The maid was able to hear our conversations by listening at the fireplace above our meeting room. I'm unsure if the same cannot be done here at the Keep which is why Bjarkë's making sure there's no one in the adjoining rooms and I'm speaking so soft. I'm not sure if we have a secure place to speak."

Ailene said, "The strapping room."

"Huh?" Frang said.

"The strapping room. We can secure that. It's in the basement and if the basement's cleared of folk and a guard placed on the stairs, no one can get in. There are no fireplaces or aught to worry about, and sound does not carry out of it, which is why it's used to strap people. It's the perfect place."

"She's right," Stuart said, "it is the perfect place."

"Then we'll be able to use it tomorrow. Teárlag's coming and we need to speak with her."

"Teárlag! Why speak to her," Stuart said, "she's already betrayed us."

"Aye," Frang agreed, "she's already betrayed us. Think about it. She betrayed us, then she told us. We were none the wiser. It could have gone on much longer. She knows what happens to those who turn against Blackthorne. She witnessed it, or at least the aftermath. She was the one who released Màiri. She told us she sold us out and was going to flee the country, to France or the American colonies because she knows what Blackthorne would do to her. Why? Why would she do that?"

Isobel looked up at her husband, a startled look on her face. "She fell in love. She fell in love with Thorburn."

"I can't explain it any other way," Frang agreed. "She fell in love with this big lout and could no longer betray him. Why else?"

None of the others could think of a rational explanation. Thorburn had stopped pacing, but was not participating.

"Even if what you say is true, brother," Stuart said, "how can we ever trust her?"

"I don't know if we can," Frang admitted. "We'll have to be careful what information we share with her. But right now, she's the only person we know who might have any idea what Blackthorne's plans are, what he's done, what he might do in the future, how to get at him. She's a peek into his inner world which we have no clue about. We need to find out everything she knows, everything she's willing to tell us."

"What she's unwilling to say, we can wring from her scrawny neck," Thorburn grunted.

Ailene stood and went to him, putting her hand on his arm. "Nay, Thorburn. I know how she's hurt you. But we can't stoop to Blackthorne's level, no matter what she's done to you. You were right to walk away today before you harmed her. You can't undo the grace you've previously shown her. She witnessed the brutality and evil of Blackthorne and chose to betray him for you. She didn't do it because you're worse than Blackthorne, or scarier. She did it because you're better. Don't undo her belief in you."

Thorburn shrugged her hand off and started pacing again.

Frang said, "Ailene's right, Thorburn. Let her help us if she's willing, but we can't betray her faith in you."

"I'll nought have anything to do with her," he said, still pacing. "She's a stinking Judas whore."

"Aye, though we still need you to help us plan, but if you don't wish to speak with her, I understand," Frang said. "We need her to tell us everything she knows, or thinks, or suspects. Everything she's overheard or overseen. The more questions we think to ask her, the more information we can glean. Think about what we need to know. When she arrives tomorrow, we'll bring her down here and speak with her. For now, this meeting is over."

They all found their own bedroom's, deep in thought, restlessly sleeping through troubled dreams.

******

Ailene woke up the next morning before daybreak. Her sleep had been uncertain and disquiet. Stuart was still asleep though he looked restless as well. She lay still, listening to him breathe. Life was so unpredictable. This war with Blackthorne was sapping them. They didn't know who to trust anymore. Friends and acquaintances, it made no difference; Blackthorne was finding ways to bring pressure on them and turn them against the Camerons. She had no idea when it would end. Stuart could be killed at any time, a surprise attack on the road, an arrow from the bushes, poison in his tea or wine. She would have nothing left of him if he died. Gone, snuffed out like a flame, a brief flicker in her life and puff. She wanted something; anything of him to go on, past his death. She'd not sought to avoid pregnancy, letting matters take their course, but it was time to push for a child. She brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. He stirred slightly, but did not waken.

She slowly pushed the sheets lower, exposing his fine body. He worked hard, at swords, archery, running the estate. It showed. Thick, muscular legs and arms, flat stomach, good chest dusted by hairs. His cock was flaccid, but thick and traced with veins. He was a handsome man, her husband, and so loving, kind and thoughtful, the kind of man to raise strong sons and daughters. He would be a good father, serious and responsible, but funny and a tease at the same time. He knew when to have fun and when to be serious and could separate the two. It was a shame McTavish was having a son through Isobel, but not Frang or Stuart. McTavish was unfit to have a child, but was having one anyway. None of the Cameron's yet had a child.

If any were to have a child now, it would have to be her and Stuart. Frang and Isobel may have another child, but the first would be another man's. Thorburn might have married Teárlag, but his romance was ended. Ailene leaned over her husband's cock and lifting it, sucked it into her mouth. He started to stir, as did his manhood. Ailene sucked and licked his cock until he awakened.

"Good morning, Ailene. To what do I owe this pleasure."

She held is cock firmly in hand and lifted off him. "It's time to have a baby, Stuart. I want to have your child."

"Haven't we been trying for a child?" Stuart asked.

"We have, but not to the exclusion of all else. Many times, we waste your seed in my mouth or my bum. If we are to have a baby, it must end. We must concentrate our efforts in such a way it will result in a child. Starting today, you will plant your seed where it will do the most good. I want your offspring to fill my home and heart in the worst way, Stuart. We are engaged in a dangerous undertaking and if you should die, I want a piece of you to live." She continued to stroke his cock, keeping it hard. As she finished speaking, she climbed over him and putting him at the entrance to sheathe, slid down over his rampant prick, letting him split her apart.

She rode him, up and down, feeling the joy of being filled by her husband. Rocking on him, grinding against him, striving for every inch of his cock. I'm going to make a baby with him. Ailene said a small prayer for her and Stuart. My love, may God grant his blessings on your semen, may He ensure the fertility of my loins, and bless our union to grant us a strong son to carry on my love's name. May God make Holy what we do here and protect the blessings of our union. Amen. Ailene clenched around him, seeking to draw forth his offering. Stuart moaned in response, enjoying her tightness, her warmth, her wetness. Not content to let her ride him, he started driving up into her, thrusting into the heat he knew so well. She clamped down again and he grabbed her breasts, squeezing and massaging the spongy tissue, thumbing her erect nipples to return the pleasure he experienced. She reached behind her and stroked his balls, fondling the sensitive orbs. He was so hard, so very hard. Ailene felt them move in her hand, drawing tight to his body, preparing to pump his liquid essence into her womb.

He pulsed and the wetness, the warmth, filled her. He pulsed again and she climaxed, spasming on his cock, mixing her fluids with his, collapsing on his chest, breathless and filled with so much love. He continued to spurt his life giving fluid into her womb, every one filled with portent, each drop the one which might bless their joining. When he was finished and gushing no more, they kissed, stroking the other. Ailene bent back, took his face in her hands and looked into his loving green eyes.

"I will now and forever, love you, Stuart Cameron, should we die tomorrow or a million years from now. You're my heart, and my soul and the part of me I never knew I had until I met you." She kissed him again.

"Ailene Cameron, my wife, the first thing I see in the morning and the last I see at night, the best part of me, the guiding star of my life. You are my most precious love and the thing I treasure most in my life. May we never forget this moment and how much we care for one another." He folded her back into his arms.

Ailene expected Stuart to begin to shrink now their coupling was past and he'd planted his offering but there was still an unexpected thickness to him and he remained inside her folds. Stuart rolled her over onto her back and began moving inside her, sliding back and forth in his familiar way, encouraging her answering response.

"Again, husband? You're not usually ready so quickly after our first."

"And we're not usually parted for days at a time. I don't know now when you'll be returning to Lady Luck Farm with Frang and Isobel, but I mean to assert my husbandly rights as many times as I'm able before you leave."

"My thoughts exactly," Ailene declared. "More times. Lots more." She wrapped her legs around him, hooking her heels behind his ass and encouraged him to drive deeper. "Many, many more."

******

Teárlag's carriage arrived just after ten, the guard sounding an alarm as it pulled up to the gates. In addition to the driver and two footmen, she was accompanied by a ladies maid. The servants were shown to the kitchen for food or drink after the drive. Teárlag was given a goblet of water, but otherwise not acknowledged. Stuart and Ailene were the last to arrive in the courtyard after the alarm was sounded, both seeming to walk with some soreness. Not a word was spoken to her. Isobel and Ailene stood by her side, silent, watching. Stuart, Frang, and Thorburn checked the basement, while Bjarkë watched the door. When they were done searching, Bjarkë nodded to the three women and Teárlag was escorted to the basement. The silence was deafening. These were all people Teárlag considered friends until she revealed herself a spy. Now they would not speak; could barely look at her.

Teárlag was led into the strapping room. She'd been there before when Isobel had slapped Jinny and been punished for it. Now, it looked far more sinister. The pillory, the table with the straps for securing you; it might be primarily for Keep punishments, but it could be used for worse. She started to weep, silently, but still seen by all as all of them watched her.

"Thank you for coming," Frang said.

"Please," Teárlag said. "If you're going to kill me, do it quickly. I might not be able to bear the pain."

Frang looked at her oddly. "If you thought you would be killed, why did you agree to come?"

Teárlag started sobbing openly. "It's what I deserve, isn't it? You welcomed me into your home, welcomed me as family and I betrayed you all. Blackthorne would torture me for weeks if I exposed him. I hoped you would at least grant me mercy and kill me quickly. It's a far better way to die."

Ailene couldn't stand it any longer and put her hand on Teárlag's. "We're not going to kill you, Teárlag, nor torture you either. We're hoping for information."

"Why are we here, then, why not somewhere else in the Keep?"

"We believe this might be the only place we can converse in secret," Frang said. "Blackthorne's spies have proven very effective in insinuating themselves in our lives."

"You mean me."

Frang said, "Others too. You're not the only one. Sit down. We want to ask questions."

"Why would you believe anything I have to say?" Teárlag asked.

"Because we did not know you were spying, yet you told us anyway; at great personal risk to yourself. We hope that means something," Frang replied.

Teárlag noticed Thorburn was not speaking. He paced around the room like a caged lion, as far from her as the room allowed. For whatever reason, Frang was taking lead in this.

"Ask your questions," she said.

"Why did you agree to spy for Blackthorne?" Frang asked.

"Greed, primarily. The chance to be a great Lady. I was twice widowed, living in a miserly home, hand to mouth, expecting to die penniless and alone. Blackthorne sent for me. He said he wanted an heir and was willing to marry me to bear him children, as long as I agreed to spy on you. I didn't know you. It was merely an argument between two powerful families, either or both of whom could be in the wrong. It didn't matter to me I would be used in this manner if I got to be a wealthy lady. I had to decide at that moment. He said if I chose to decline, I could go home, and his only requirement would be my silence and he'd kill me if I broke it. He would find another to take my place. Now, I'm not so sure he would have let me live. He's since proven he doesn't like witnesses."

"So you agreed," Frang said. "Why did you not marry?"

"The marriage would only take place after I helped him destroy you; take your property, your lands. If I failed to accomplish this goal, the marriage would never take place. Given what happened afterward, I should have run screaming from him and leaped out a window to my death."

"What do you mean? What happened afterward?" Isobel asked.

"Blackthorne said he had peculiar tastes and desires and I would have to satisfy those tastes or we would never marry. He beat me, a cane, I believe the first time, though it's all run together now, then he fucked me. He refused to fuck normally, said I couldn't get pregnant yet because it would be another bastard if we weren't married yet. So, he fucked me in the ass, then my mouth. Every time I saw him, it was the same. Some form of physical brutality followed by some type of sexual brutality. If I wasn't going to be seen by one of you, I was marked for weeks. The only time he held back was if his marks might be seen by one of you. I believe now he may not get an erection if he doesn't beat me first."