Flight of a Unicorn

By A.D Morrison

Alex finds his life confining after the Brazilian storm that claimed his wife and child. A chance encounter with a dying old sea captain creates an oath he feels bond to honor. The multicontinent journey takes him to the land of his grandmother and allows him to fulfill his wanderlust's spirit and complete his father's dream while finding friends and love. Alex is a borderline scoundrel, even in 1890 standards, that overcomes dangers but believes in fairness. His rascal nature is harnessed by Elizabeth when she channels his fantasies and anchors his dreams. Can they, with the help of friends, bring much needed hope to the Highlands and Oban?

Follow Alex, Elizabeth, and the rest of Oban on their quest to improve the hopes and dreams of Highlanders in Flight of a Unicorn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: May 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798885059251

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Prelude

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

About the Author

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Flight of a Unicorn

A.D Morrison

Copyright © 2023 A.D Morrison

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88505-924-4 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88505-925-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Prelude

Scotland, Late Fall 1821

The drought had been harsh on the grains this year. Even with special attention, the same crop in the same field five years in a row produced a meager yield. The idiot Chatsam knew less about farming than he did about his family's banking interest. That was why they stashed him up here in the Argyle. His investment in the Highlands outside of Gairloch with French sheep proved it. A really harsh winter could wipe out the animals bred for the temperatures in France and Spain.

The issue today was the annual rent. Chatsam's collector was in the front yard, and the MacNeils were just over four pounds short. The oldest child, Sarah, would be indentured as a housemaid for one year. If they made their quota next year on settlement day, she would be freed.

The parents had been sent as replacement watchers almost seventeen years ago. Married on the dock at first meeting, they had been lucky to like each other at once. Not always the case with the marriage of watchers. The prior MacNeil watcher had died, and both Clan MacLeod watchers had disappeared from their field. The Clan MacLeod members on the mainland had been disappearing in the area outside of Gairloch for about two years. The large Clan McLeod estate near the Shieldaig Forest was now the sheep ranch the Chatsams owned half of.

No amount of hard work would have kept Sarah from her fate. No amount of begging from her father or to provide service by the mother would keep them from the heartache of seeing their daughter loaded into the back of the wagon with four other cotter's children.

Aye, it no be a good time yet to be a Highlander. Highland Clearance was still in full bloom.

Chatsam's manor, three days later

Lady Charlotte finished breakfast early and told Fredrick, the manor manager, if her husband asked for her, she had gone for a morning ride. She did not need his useless palaver this morning. She was feeling testy and his constant harping about his brother's good fortune with the family's banking investments. It was becoming a bore. Brother Eaton was either very lucky or very good at his position as head of the family banking in London. Husband Orson did not like banking. He liked being at the Manor Chatsam. No pressure, no observers, no one telling him to put a shoulder to the wheel. Orson had always been coddled and took advantage of being a surprise child as well as the spare, born fourteen years after his sister Margaret and sixteen years after Eaton. Nothing she could do about it now… Seventeen years of marriage had hardened her to the reality that life might not be fair, but the family fortune made it bearable. Her own family had lost most of their fortune in a tea venture in Siam twenty years ago. It had been port out but also port back after the investment. Dad and her oldest brother were working for wages, and her younger brother was a captain in the Royal Guard. Someday Eaton would retire or pass, and since Margaret died in childbirth along with the baby, Orson would assume the head position at the bank, and they would move to London's society. She just hoped it would be soon before she lost all her beauty and charm. Being at court was the most thrilling days of her life. She would miss her horseback rides though. Long ago she found sitting straddle the saddle was much more enjoyable than sidesaddle. When chastised it was unladylike, she smiled and pointed out she was as aggressive a rider as any man, and they rode straddle for safety reasons. Should I be less safe? the question was begged.

Orson and the boys Cullen (seventeen) and Duncan (fifteen) met at the top of the curved staircase. As they descended for the morning meal, Fredrick heard their heels clicking on the solid English oak, like someone was pounding on the side of a vegetable crate. To what no good would the boys do today? It's the standard morning question. Cullen was totally corrupt, and Duncan would follow a rabbit down a hole. Any suggestion from anyone, anyplace, anytime and he was like the last goose in a flight.

Better alert the kitchen staff that the men of the manor had arrived and breakfast needed to be prepared. He had the new girl bring the table settings. White china with small red roses around the outer rim. Pewter tumblers and silver flatware. For informal breakfasts, they seldom used more than a knife, fork, and spoon. Half the time they all ate with their fingers anyway. Hope she knew how to place the utensils. She was fresh from the hinterland and really is quite lovely. Could not be a day over fifteen.

As Sarah finished placing the items on the massive ornate table, the trio entered the dining hall talking of what to do to fill up their day. As she turned to quit the room, she heard Cullen ask, New girl, Father?

Yes, Orson answered. Comes from the holdings in the Highlands over by Oban. Bad crops this year, and she will be working for the rest of this year to satisfy the rents. Not my fault another bad drought. Payments must be satisfied. Any forgiveness would set a bad example. Must retain the status quo and maximum controls.

Is that the trip I took with you last spring? Didn't the old farmer say he wanted to raise potatoes and turnips this year? asked Duncan. Said five years in a row of the same crop was harsh on the land.

I didn't need potatoes or turnips. I need barley for the distillery. They will plant what I tell them, or the rents will go even higher, said Orson.

They finished breakfast of eggs, sausage, and buns washed down with black tea. The three left the table to look out the side window at the sloping front yard. The structure was on a slight hillock with English oak and heather around the perimeter. They were much thicker on the north and west side for wind protection and afternoon shade. The manor was mostly block stone and modest in size. It only contained fifteen rooms on two levels. It was livable because only Fredrick and the cook occupied any space in the main house. The drive was wide enough for two carriages to pass on the approach. Then it widened like the end of a gourd to a width that would allow a six-horse team to swing around and deposit the occupants at the stone steps to the front entrance. A small circular rose garden dotted the center of the circle. Duncan had talked with the gardener and knew the roses were healthy form all the road apples left by the teams.

Are we going hunting this morning? inquired Cullen.

I have a couple of dreadful letters to post. Then I'll meet you at the stables in ninety minutes, answered Orson.

Sarah cleared the table, paying no attention to the hum coming from the alcove in front of the floor to ceiling windows. She did take a quick peek at that direction and thought, There is more glass in that one window than in our whole house back on the farm. She carried the dirty dishes and one leftover banger into the kitchen. Helping clean up after the breakfast meal was easier than at home where there were six mouths to feed. It was her third day at the manor, and she could not believe she had a bed she did not have to share. Clean clothes every other day, a bath every five days, two meals, plus all she wanted from the plates she cleared from the table.

Cullen and Duncan entered the kitchen and went over to Alton, the head cook. Cullen whispered in his ear, Send the new girl to the barn by herself to collect at least eight eggs. Tell her you need them for preparing the evening meal.

Alton looked at the boys and said, I know what you are planning, and your mother will not like it.

Cullen said, Either do it or I'll tell Mother about the barmaid in town that always gets a ham or fowl for every holiday. Both boys left through the brick archway that led to the mudroom and out the backdoor.

Edith, who had been at the estate for over three years, was working beside Sarah and said, That's strange. I cannot remember the last time I saw the boys in the kitchen. They think they are too highbrow to mingle with the lowly help except when they want something. When Alton came over and told Sarah to go fetch at least eight eggs from the barns, Edith spoke up, I'll go with her. It will be faster. I know where the hens lay the eggs.

Alton gave a sad knowing look at Edith and said, No, you need to go down in the root cellar and fetch me some turnips and then out to the garden and pick a basket of greens.

But—

No buts. If you want to go back to the stables for the next year, just keep it up. Now both of you do as you are told.

Edith grabbed Sarah's arm and said in a worried voice, Be careful.

I'll be all right, said Sarah. I've been around animals all my life. As she turned to go, she did not see the tear run down Edith's cheek.

Sarah grabbed a woven willow basket of medium size from the top wooden shelf along the hallway leading from the kitchen through the archway to the alcove, where the boots were stacked neatly on the cobblestones under the rain gear that was hung on wooden pegs. How grand this house was to have a room just to keep your filthy coverings and shoes. It kept dirt from coming into the main house. Sarah looked out and saw the dark clouds, but it was not raining and decided not to wear a wrap as it should only take couple minutes to gather the eggs, and she could surely be back with eight eggs before the storm hit.

Quickly hopping over and around puddles that had not evaporated from the rain on the day she arrived, she was in the barn less than three minutes. She looked down, glad to see dry feet and no mud. Sarah looked for a roosting pole or some staked hay. The eggs should be close to both. Not seeing the roost quickly, she located the haystacks in the back southeast corner. That makes sense, she thought as the majority of the time the wind came from the NW. Not only would the hay stay drier, it's convenient for the rooster, being in the corner that saw the sun coming up first.

Sarah heard a noise behind the riding tack wall, and Duncan walked out holding a pitchfork.

You startled me, she said.

Sorry. What you doing out here? asked Duncan.

I'm supposed to gather eggs, said Sarah.

You look over there, and I'll look here, said Duncan.

Thank you. I can use the help as this is the first time I've been to the barn, Sarah stated.

She quickly found three eggs, and Duncan said, I found two over here. It looks like they have been roosting in this corner. Bring your basket, and I'm sure we can fill it.

As Sarah walked past the tack wall and held the basket out to Duncan for the eggs in his hand, Cullen grabbed her from behind and dragged her down onto the hay behind the riding tack wall…just out of sight from the front of the barn.

Hi, my pretty, Cullen said.

Let go of me, voiced Sarah as she struggled to free herself. But Cullen was almost five stones (fourteen pounds per stone) much heavier and had his weight on her skirt. She could not pull free.

Now, now, he said. We just want to have a little fun and see what's under that uniform.

Let me up. Alton knows I'm here… Sarah did not have to wait for the giggle retort to realized she was not sent to the barn for eggs. The look of pure lust on Cullen's face confirmed her fate. She turned to Duncan and pleaded, Help me. Please help me. Then she yelled, Help! Help! Someone help me.

No one can hear you, my pretty, and Duncan is here to help if you won't cooperate, Cullen proclaimed.

There is no one else in the barn, he said. Now don't struggle and it will be over in a few minutes. I'm sure you will like it by the time we are done. He smiled at Duncan.

Sarah realized she might well lose her virginity here on the barn floor if she didn't free herself. If it's a fight he wanted, she did not wait. She threw her weight against Cullen, and the surprise fight knocked him back just enough to kick at his crotch. Her heel caught the inside of his thigh but slid below his testicles, but her toes managed to connect, and he let out a howl. Just as she got to her knees, Cullen recovered and pushed her over on her back and slaps her hard across the cheek before he straddled her and sat on her bellybutton.

You better not hurt her like the last one, or Mum will send us to military school this time for sure. Father barely kept us here with our promise not to hurt any more of the girls. Like Father says, there are enough willing to roll in the hay without violence! young Duncan reminded Cullen.

Shut your fucking mouth and get over here and help me hold her still. You need a sampling as much as I. The struggle is half the fun. Besides, I'm tired of listening to you whack off under the covers every night. Here, get up by her head and hold her hand, instructed Cullen.

Cullen handed Sarah's hand to Duncan. He leaned down and forced his mouth on hers as he pulled her blouse open. Sarah was repulsed by his tongue trying to enter her mouth and his hand on her now bare breast. She struggled, but Duncan, eighteen months younger, was bigger than Cullen by at least two stones and stronger, and he held her tight. Maybe if I pretend not to fight, they will stop. I've heard some men just like the battle of unoffered sex, Sarah thought. As she relaxed, Cullen reached and fondled both breasts. Each squeeze was harder than the last.

Look at these beauties, won't ya, Duncan? chirped Cullen. "When it's your turn, you really need to feel how soft and warm they are. Not the biggest but surely not the smallest for a young Scottish lass. Haha! Now let's see your arse and pussy."

Sarah knew at that moment there would be no stopping Cullen. She jerked one had free from Duncan's grasp and went for Cullen's eyes. Her fingernails, like claws, drew blood from the eyebrow down to the point just below the cheekbone. Three long furrows filled with blood. Cullen screamed and slapped Sarah hard upside the head. She felt the pain and saw dark for a minute. Then Duncan grabbed her wrist again.

If she gets away again, I'll blame this whole idea on you if we are caught, and I won't hold her for your turn, Cullen spat at Duncan.

While Sarah was still a little groggy, they raised her up and put the pitchfork handle in the crook of one arm behind her back and through the other arm's crook. Pushed flat on her back, she could not raise her arms and hands except to bend them at the elbows. Sara realized they had used this trick before.

Now lean all your weight on the handle, like before, and she is trapped, Cullen instructed.

Cullen grabbed Sarah's skirt and lifted it up to her waist. He wasted no time in pulling her knickers to her ankles. As he tried to open her legs, she crossed her legs and tried to turn onto one hip. As they struggled, Cullen began to sweat. He got his hand between her thighs and tried to spread them. But her legs crossed at the ankles, helped by the wadded knickers, made it impossible. Sarah's whole body was gleaming from the sweat of the struggle. Seeing his efforts fail, Cullen violently jerked his hand from between her thighs. The soft, pure white skin tore on the edge of his ring. Sarah felt the pain and the wetness of blood but still refused to surrender.

It's the prettiest triangle I've ever seen, Cullen said to Duncan. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife and opened the blade. Sarah was afraid he was going to cut her and screamed with all that was left in her. Instead, Cullen grabbed the knickers and cut them in half. Once she lost the added strength of the cloth, he forced her legs apart. On his knees, he pulled down his pants, and Sarah saw his penis standing rigid and pointed at her. She had never seen a hard penis before. And this was not the way she wanted to be introduced to one. She now understood how it could be forced into her vagina. She continued to squirm, but they were too strong. She could not bring herself to give up. After three attempts to enter her, Cullen suddenly told Duncan to stand up and place his feet on the pitchfork handle. This would still hold her down as she was only at half strength from the struggle. Cullen grabbed her left ankle and handed it to the standing Duncan, who now had both hands free. This position raised Sarah's rump, almost like putting her knee against her chest. Duncan could now see he triangle of pubic hair and felt his prick throbbing even harder. Cullen grabbed her right ankle in his left hand and pulled her legs apart and handed it to Duncan. Keep them apart, he snarled at Duncan.

Isn't that the prettiest, smallest pink slit you've ever seen, brother? Cullen smiled through a crazed, twisted face. He reached down with right hand and made sure where the opening was then he spat in his hand and wiped it on the still closed opening. Then he spit again and rubbed the end of his prick. He knee-walked up close enough to push through any resistance. He was so excited he hoped he would not ejaculate until he was inside this bitch. He tried to enter, and because of the angle, his prick slid above the vagina into the soft auburn patch of silky soft hair. This infuriated Cullen even more. He grabbed his cock and aimed it by hand to the exact spot. I will not miss again, he thought. I will enter your cunt this time, he boasted. Just as he started to push, he felt a terrible pain on his back and neck. He let go of his penis and turned just in time to see his mother swing her riding crop again this time at his naked penis. The pain was unbearable. He grabbed the now limp member and rolled on the hay, moaning. Again, the crop was on his bare buttocks. Then she turned to Duncan and lashed him three quick strokes. He had dropped Sarah's leg and jumped backward off the pitchfork handle falling on the basket of eggs in the haystack.

"Get out! Get out, you animals! I do not want to see you again today. There will be hell to pay for your actions!" Lady Charlotte screamed.

Lady Charlotte took a quick look at Sarah's thighs with the bloodstain. With a quick view, she saw the two-inch-long tear high up on the inner thigh just below the start of the pubic hair and said, Just in time I see. She pulled the knickers off Sarah's legs and helped her up. She straightened her blouse and skirt. Can you walk? Come with me, said Lady C.

They left the hay loft, past the stalls with her still-saddled palfrey, out the barn door, and in the main entrance. Lady Charlotte called Fredrick and told him to bring four pails of hot water for a bath in her chambers now and also to send someone down to the barn to care and stable her mount.

In the master bedroom, Lady Charlotte told Sarah to undress and handed her a nightshirt. Still disoriented by the barn event, Sarah removed her garments and covered herself with the nightshirt. The upstairs maid brought the first pail of water and poured it into the largest tub Sarah had ever seen in the corner of the bedroom. As she arrived back with the second pail, the additional kitchen staff entered with two pails of steaming water. Once poured, Lady Charlotte tested the water, stating it to be suitable to enter. Sarah felt ashamed and didn't want to bathe in front of Lady Charlotte, but she felt so violated and dirty that it took little coaxing to get her to stick one leg over the side. The water was the hottest she had ever bathed in.

Set the pail beside the tub. Lady Charlotte instructed as another pail of boiling water arrived. We will add it as we need.

As soon as the room was cleared, Lady C came to the side of the tub and reached out and pulled the nightshirt over Sarah's head. Now naked, Sarah quickly sat down in the water to cover herself as best she could. As the warm water hit the nasty tear on the thigh, she moaned. Lady Charlotte said, Lucky I rode down by the north pasture this morning. It started to rain just as I arrived, so I outran the storm back to the barn. I actually cut my ride short by about half an hour. I was just about to unsaddle my mount when I heard your scream. So I walked to the other end of the barn. Just in time I might add. She took a cloth and rubbed it across Sarah's back. Sarah jerked away, not from the hay scratches on her back meeting the hot water but from being touched. No one had ever washed her before.

I see the scratches hurt. Don't worry, we will put some suave on them, and they will not leave a mark, stated Lady Charlotte. But we must keep a close eye on the cut on your thigh. That could become infected.

Thank you, Mum, Sarah truly gratefully uttered.

Let's see if there is any other damage. She moved around the brass tub. With a fresh dipping of warm water, she moved Sarah's arm to the side and gently washed her left breast. Sarah turned red with embarrassment and ducked her head. Don't be embarrassed, my shy darling. We are both women, Lady Charlotte stated as she moved to the other breast. Oh dear, I'm afraid we will have to watch these as they have been pinched rather harshly and are already starting to bruise. Stand up and let's see if your thighs were treated the same or just the nasty cut. Then you can soak for a bit, directed Lady Charlotte.

Sarah held on to the side of the tub and stood as Lady C turned her back. Thank God she's not looking. Sarah sighed inwardly just as Lady Charlotte turned around and poured the last bucket of hot water into the tub. She dropped to her knees and rinsed the cloth in the warmer water. Before Sarah could react, Lady C started to wash her inner thighs. Sarah shuddered and almost fell out of the tub. If it was not for the tub being against the wall, she was sure she would have tipped over backward in surprise and shock. She could not remember anyone touching her crotch before except herself. She didn't count the times in the struggle in the barn because that was an unfeeling situation.

I'm afraid there will be bruises here also. That nasty-looking scratch will need some ointment and watching too, stated Lady Charlotte. Sit back down in the tub and soak for a few minutes. Do you have another pair of knickers in your room? I'll go get them myself. The less people we bring into this, the better. Oh, what the heck. I'll just give you an old clean pair of mine. Yours are ruined anyway. Let me shake out the hay from your clothes, and then I'll comb your lovely hair, and we can get on with our day. Let's keep this between us ladies, okay? said Lady Charlotte. I do need to talk to Orson.

True to her word, the lady of the house confronted her husband, and by whatever means or promise, they agreed Cullen was not the quality of brother they wanted around Duncan. At his age, he could join, as an officer, the English military. It would be arranged as quickly as possible. Maybe they felt, Duncan, as big a follower as he was, could be saved.

The next midmorning, Lady Charlotte summoned Sarah to her bedchambers. I want to make sure there is no infection or excess bruising, she said. Let me see your breast.

Sara was very uncomfortable with the request, but since yesterday was fresh in her mind, she opened her blouse and pulled down her cover. They don't hurt, Mum, she assured Lady Charlotte.

But, dear, they are turning color. Come here to my dressing table. We will get some cream that will reduce the bruises and swelling, promised Lady C.

Sarah let out a sharp gasp as Lady C turned around, and with a small handful of cool lotion in her hands, quickly she started applying it to Sarah's left breast. Sarah took a step back in shock, but Lady Charlotte, anticipating her move, moved with her and continued gently applying the lotion. Lady C turned back to the table and quickly gathered another handful of lotion, spun, and gently massaged the right breast.

Now that should help, stated Lady Charlotte. Let's see the cut on your thigh. Sit here on the bed.

Sara was not as self-conscious of the cut area because she had knickers on. She pulled up her top and buttoned her blouse before sitting on the edge of the bed. She raised her skirt to expose her inner thigh. Leaning back on one elbow, she pulled her skirt up to her waist. It was by far the most troublesome and painful. It always seemed to rub on something. Sarah had never thought her thighs met, but every time she turned sharply or took a cross step, it seemed to irritate the very deep scratch.

It's all red and inflamed, observed Lady Charlotte. Let's get some ointment on it before it gets infected. Terrible place for an open wound. We will have to keep an eye on it.

With that said, she turned to her dressing table and opened a jar of thick goo. This will protect it and speed the recovery, stated Lady Charlotte as she dipped two fingers into the jar and applied the viscous, paste-like mixture to Sarah's thigh. As she spread the material over and around the damaged area, Sarah felt uncomfortable. It seemed Lady Charlotte's fingers were inching higher than the scratch. Just as she was about to protest, Lady C said, There. That ought to do it for today. We'll check it again tomorrow.

The next morning, a troop of six military riders appeared in front of the house. Their leader, a major, dismounted and was greeted by both of the Chatsams. He was invited in, and the soldiers were offered food and drink at the back door of the house. Sarah carried a tray of tea and muffins to the study for the group of three. As she was leaving, she heard, After three months at the field training site outside York, he will be commissioned as a lieutenant and… The door closed.

An hour later, Sarah was told to report to Lady Charlotte's bedroom. The same process as the day before was performed. It seemed the breast lotion was applied with slightly more pressure, and the creeping fingers went slightly higher.

The next morning, the rumor mill at the staff table was abuzz. Did you hear that Cullen will be sent off to the military? said Edith.

Two of the other girls looked at each other, and a very weird smile appeared on their faces. One said, Yeah, but Duncan is still here. And he is a lot bigger.

The other said, Bigger where it counts. Besides, he is a pussycat compared to Cullen. Without Cullen around, he might be afraid to ask for it or to be first in line. They all giggled. When is he supposed to leave? It cannot be soon enough. We better make a pact to always stay in twos or more until he leaves.

Edith said, I heard the major is coming to get him in less than a fortnight. He will be on the prowl and nasty until he is gone. We must be careful.

Truer words were never spoken, thought Sarah.

Sarah did not get called to Lady Charlotte's boudoir that day. Nor the next. The third day, Lady Charlotte called her up to her chambers later in the afternoon. As she entered, she saw two buckets of water by the tub and turned to the door to see three more being brought in.

Thank you, ladies, said Lady Charlotte as she closed the door.

This will be quick, thought Sarah as she wouldn't want the water to get cold.

As quick as the door closed, Lady C turned to Sarah and confessed, I knew this was your bath day, so I thought you might as well take it as we checked your bruises and scratch for improvement. Take off your clothes and I'll pour the water in the tub. Sarah started to protest as Lady C dumped four buckets into the tub. She said, Hurry up before it gets cold. She then went behind the dressing screen. Seeing this as an opportunity to get in the tub without being seen naked, Sarah hurriedly undressed and climbed into the tepid water.

Lady Charlotte walked from behind the dressing screen behind Sarah. Good, the water is not too deep. Sarah's mouth dropped open as Lady Charlotte came into view, completely nude, and stepped into the tub. Sarah started to rise up, and Lady Charlotte said, Unless you want to become a barn girl, you need to stay in the tub. You are aware Cullen is about to leave but has free rein until then. Including the barn, which seems to be his favorite place lately.

Sarah looked at her in disbelief. Other than her ten-year-old sister, she had never seen another female naked. She found herself taking quick peeks at the adult form in the nude sitting across from her. Despite the uncomfortable feeling, the peeks continued. She also processed the fact that two of the house staff had visible bruises in two of the last three morning breakfasts. Neither would confess how they got them, but both had been sent to gather eggs. Lady Charlotte gathered a rag in her left hand and a bar of scented soap in the other. She gently washed both her breasts, then rinsed the rag. Soaping it, she leaned forward and washed Sarah's breast. Isn't that nice? asked Lady C. She then rinsed the rag, handed it to Sarah with the bar of soap, and said, Now wash mine.

Sarah thought, How do I get out of this? This is another woman.

As she contemplated her next actions, Lady Charlotte said, Just so you know, I will not be going to the barn tonight. In fact, after this bath, I am going straight to bed.

Sarah remembered how brutal Cullen had been and knew he would be more so if given the chance again. She looked at the stare coming back at her and glanced down to make sure there was no prick hiding in the pubic hair. She slowly leaned forward and rubbed the soapy rag over Lady Charlotte. What did Edith call them? Oh yeah, tits.

Lady C closed her eyes and leaned slightly forward. As Sarah rubbed the rag around the slightly sagging tits, Land Charlotte said, Rub them harder. Sarah was shocked but applied more pressure. Much harder, came from the other end of the tub.

Lady Charlotte's hand took the rag from Sarah and dipped it into the cooling water. She then stood and, facing Sara, slowly washed her pubic area. The hair was covered with soap suds until she reached down to the small table beside the tub and retrieved a pint-sized cup, filled it with water, and poured it over her breasts. Sarah watched, maybe not fascinated but truly surprised, as the water cascaded down across her belly and washed half the suds away. Then Lady C dipped the cup and poured the second cup directly on her…what did Cullen call that area? Her pussy. A quick look showed no soap suds left.

Your turn, my dear. Stand, Lady Charlotte demanded.

Afraid of the threatened consequences, Sarah stood. Lady C grabbed the rag and washed Sarah between the legs. Sarah shuddered at the feeling, and it made Lady C gasp and smile. The two pints of water removed all the soap suds.

Lady Charlotte stepped out of the tub and picked up the only towel. Step out, dear, she cooed. Sarah stepped out, and Lady Charlotte said, Turn around so I can dry your back. Thankful for the first sign of her sense of properness, Sarah turned and was comforted by the soft towel rubbing her back. Shoulder first, then down the small of her back and finally her legs. Turn around. We must dry the front too, Lady C said.

Let me dry you first, pleaded Sarah.

You will, darling, was the reply.

Sarah turned to the smiling face that stepped close and slowly started to dry her collarbones. I used to be this firm and perky, Lady C said as she dragged the towel across Sarah's breasts. When she reached Sarah's bellybutton, she moved to her feet and started to work her way north. When she reached her knees, she took Sarah by the hand and led her to the bed. Sit here so we can check the healing. I don't want to rub the scab off, said Lady Charlotte.

Quickly she dried the inside of the good leg and firmly rubbed her crotch dry with the towel. Then she pushed Sarah's legs apart and inspected the healing wound. It looks much better. But we need to keep the ointment on it for another week or so, chimed Lady Charlotte. She retreated to the dressing table and returned with the jar of goo, gently rubbing in on the scab area. This time, being naked, there was no mistake her fingers reached clear to her labia. As quick as she touched the special area, Lady C stood up and said, There… That should do it for today. We better get dressed.

Sarah did not see the nod or smile at the dressing screen. Lady C took the towel from the bed, wrapped it around herself, and watched as Sarah quickly dressed and hustled from the room. Lady Charlotte dropped the towel and laid on the bed, spreading her legs. Orson stepped from behind the screen naked with a full erection. After watching the complete bath scenario, he was as randy as he could remember and covered the distance from the dressing screen to the bed in three very quick long strides.

That was beautiful, he said. I can't wait to fuck you. One hop on the bed and he mounted her and shoved his cock into her waiting pussy.

She huskily whispered in his ear, Harder, faster, push harder. Just make it last until I'm done this time, Lady Charlotte whispered, thinking, At least he is good at this one thing.

The week went without incident until it was the scheduled bath day. Sarah was told to report to the bedchamber as soon as her evening chores were done. She thought of claiming to be ill as she expected a repeat of last time. Knowing that would not do anything but postpone the event, she knocked on the door at seven thirty.

Come in, was heard through the door. Leave it open. The staff is bringing bathwater, said Lady Charlotte. Come here and comb my hair. No need to let them assume anything more is going on.

The four buckets of water arrived, and as the staff left, Lady C said, Close the door. You can stop combing my hair. Pour the water in the tub and get in. I'll be right with you.

I just had a bath, said Sarah.

With a knowing smirk, Lady Charlotte said, So this week there will be two, as she disappeared behind the dressing screen.

Sarah acquiesced, disrobed, and got in the tub. The water was much warmer than last time. Lady C stood, naked, by the tub, admiring Sarah's body. Then she got in the water. The same tub ritual was followed except there seemed to be firmer and more washing, especially in the pubic area.

Once out of the tub, Sarah could tell there was a definite change. Everything was at a much faster pace and rougher. When Lady Charlotte led Sarah to the bed, she pushed her on her back, and as she dried her crotch, she said, I have a surprise for you.

Sarah saw movement coming from behind the dressing screen. She recognized Orson. He was naked with a hard-on, another new term the girls had taught her. Lady C kissed her on the mouth as she ran one hand over her breast and one hand into her pubic hair. Sarah almost gagged. Orson climbed onto the bed and quickly took her right nipple into his mouth while his hand held her breast still.

Sarah said, What are you doing? Please let me go, as she struggled to free herself from them.

Lady Charlotte sat up and said, We are giving you choices. Either we play our game or I will personally take you to the barn tonight. You will be a stable girl until your family debt is paid. Did I mention that tonight is Cullen's last night, and I'm sure he would like a special present. Oh, if Orson does not get his way, he will terminate your family's lease. But not your debt. You will be legally bound to stay until paid. Your family will be out.

Sarah could not believe what she was hearing. The girls were right all along. The Chatsams were evil, mean, and ruthless. She could see no way out. As tears rolled down her cheek, Orson started sucking on her left nipple. Lady Charlotte placed her left hand on Sarah's crotch, and her fingers sought the special opening. With her right hand, Sarah saw her put two fingers in her own pubic hair. Then they disappeared inside her. Lady C performed a funny smile with her eyes half closed as her right hand began to move. Her left hand had found the opening, and one finger found its way inside. As Sarah tried to pull away, Orson said, Let's get on with this. I can't wait much longer.

Lady Charlotte removed her left hand, but not her right hand. You know the consequences, Sarah. Play and everything will be fine. Refuse and life will become a nightmare for you and your family.

With no real choice, Sara blinked the tears away to see Lady C grab Orson's dick and move her hand up and down. Can this just be over? Sarah sobbed.

Orson moved between her legs. He told her to raise her knees up. Lady C moved to the end of the bed to watch the entry. Sarah cried as Orson pumped on top of her. My god, she is tight, he proclaimed as he came into her.

Lady Charlotte screamed, Get off her and get into me! Sarah, get your clothes and get out now. She pushed Sarah to the very side of the bed, flopped on her back, and pulled her knees clear to her shoulders, holding them there with her hands. The presentation was clear of her intent. Now both of you. Now, she demanded.

The next day, Cullen was escorted to York for training. As he disappeared around the bend, Lady Charlotte called Orson into the study and said, Sarah is much too pretty and smart to be stuck here or as a farm wife pushing out kids every year.

What are you suggesting? quizzed Orson.

Let's propose to her that we forgive her family debt owed plus every year's debt if they have any that she works for your brother in London as a nanny. Eaton is looking for a nanny since Colleen has been ill with her pregnancy. Pregnant at forty is stupid anyway. Sarah is very presentable, bright, can read and write. She has experience taking care of her younger siblings. She has no prospects here or in the Highlands. A clean place to live, and you saw what she will do for family. Plus a small stipend should be very attractive to her. I really don't think she wants to stay here. Lady C thought, Besides, I saw the way you look at her, enjoyed her, and I know you will not be happy without more. I only agreed to last night, even though I liked it way more than I thought I would, to get your agreement on placing Cullen in the military before he killed one of the girls. Besides, there are several girls that would relish a bath night if we go that route again.

I don't know if Eaton will agree. He may have hired someone already, said Orson, not wanting to give up his newfound toy.

All we can do is propose the idea, said Lady Charlotte. You contact Eaton, and I will handle Sarah.

Sarah was left alone while they waited for Eaton's reply. Finally, after three and a half weeks, a letter arrived from London. Eaton and Colleen would give it a go on the condition if Sarah was a bust, she would be returned at their expense.

Three days later, Sarah looked out the stage window on the trip to London. So many different trees compared to home in Scotland, she thought. What was she to find? Certainly, a different life. Sarah only brought three items in tow. Her satchel, her letter of introduction, and the knowledge she was over three weeks late.

Sarah's arrival in London was a major shock. There were more houses in sight of the Chatsams' house than in all of Oban. Eaton was nothing like Orson. He was polite but firm, pleasant and friendly, and slightly taller but with a large mustache, big mutton chops, round glasses, and a widow's peak hairline. He looked kind of like a sea eagle. The difference was his eyes were soft behind the glasses.

Colleen was a different story. She was seven months pregnant and looked extremely tired. She was a fairly tall woman but very thin. Her belly protrusion was more pronounced because of her build. At almost forty years old, it was a rarity, in these times, to be having your first child. Colleen Chatsam had a gentle face, a quick smile, and welcoming demeanor. She took Sarah to the second floor and showed her a large bedroom, telling her it would be her room. She said she could call her Mrs. C for now. Did she need help unpacking? Sarah said, No, thank you. She only had one more set of clothes and her personal items.

The woman and girl went down to the sitting room, and Eaton explained to Sarah what her duties would be. Anything to assist with the household chores or Mrs. Chatsam wanted done. Once the baby arrived, she would be expected to handle the nighttime requirements. The crib would be placed in her room that is why her room seemed to be so large. Did she have any questions?

Sarah had some pluck. If she was going to be a slave to the Chatsams, she wanted assurance it was for the promised reasons. I was told that if I gave in to Orson and Charlotte's demands, my family's debt would be forgiven, and they would be allowed to stay on their farm. If I did not, my fate would be sent to the barn to Cullen and my family removed from the farm. Can you promise me the bargain will be true?

Colleen looked shocked, and Eaton removed the pipe from his mouth as he stood up. This is disturbing. I knew they were considerably bent as a couple and Cullen is twisted beyond redemption, but this is beyond civility. I assure I will look into it and the agreement will be held firm.

Colleen Chatsam took to Sarah quickly. She bought her two more outfits to wear, not uniforms. She did not want a servant appearance in the house. She had someone to talk to daily, not just the cleaning lady that came twice a week. After a fortnight, Sarah was able to convince them she could do the cleaning as well as the other chores. Even when Colleen was placed in complete bed rest, Sarah was able to maintain the household.

It was an extremely difficult birth when Allister arrived. Because of her slight build, Colleen's left hip was dislocated. She was bedridden for two months. Sarah had to confess she was with child, and when Colleen pried it out of her how she got pregnant, she demanded Eaton find out if it were true. Eaton knew Orson well enough to realize he had to approach the subject not head-on but with some subterfuge. Over several drinks at Eaton's club during the next month's visit in London, Eaton mentioned how tight Sarah's pussy was. While he had never coupled with Sarah, he knew Orson would blab if he had. Orson laughed and boasted, Not as tight as the night I took her virginity with Charlotte watching.

That solidified Sarah's place in the London house. Eaton did not require sex from Sarah. After James was born, Sarah became the mother to both the boys as Colleen's health diminished over the next few years. When the boys, just over six months apart, were three years old, Lady C lost control of the carriage she was pushing in the park, and it went down the steep path into the pond at the bottom of the hill. Sarah sprinted after the carriage and leaped into the four-foot-deep pond to pull Allister, sitting in front, to the bank and then James. It sealed James's future as the grateful Chatsams knew both would have drowned before Lady C could have gotten to them.

The boys were raised as brothers as far as education was concerned. While Allister showed little aptitude or interest in banking as life progressed, James was a whiz. At seventeen, he was employed in the London office. His ability was so exceptional that fear of his rise to the top of all the connected trainees required action. The decided action was a transfer to a sister bank in Boston. Few knew the majority of the Boston banks' money was from England. Plus, it really was a hedge against having no foothold in the new country's success. James MacNeil would also be a pipeline back to England. In 1842, James was sent to Boston.

Once apparent the flow of money was leaving the confines of the upper east coast to the riches of Charleston and the English and French cotton trade and down the Mississippi water for other goods to New Orleans, the decision was made to send an envoy to Charleston to be their banking spy. Since James MacNeil was the first to expose this alarming trend, he was sent to the Bank of Charleston as a trusted employee in the fall of 1847. The Charleston Bank worked with the Bank of Boston on several issues concerning shipping and cash positions. Because James seemed only interested in banking and helping his mother's position in London, there was never any thought to the next series of events.

James loved the Charleston climate and the Southern lifestyle. It was not long before he was considered a potential beau for the Southern belles. James was a good-looking young man, and after sampling a few of the belles, he met one that he fancied, Alexandria Mardot, only daughter to one of the largest cotton farmers in South Carolina. They married in 1849 and had the first child in 1850. A boy they named Robert. It was not until 1860 that a second child was born. It was supposed to be a girl, and when it arrived with a tail, they named it after the mother, Alex, and a great-grandfather on the father's side, William.

Two years later, the climate had changed, and James MacNeil could see escaping with something was better than losing it all. Brazil was fishing for commerce, and Sao Luis held great promise.

At two years old, Alex William MacNeil was off on a trip that would change his future.

Back in England, Sarah was still in the Eaton Chatsam's employment. News came of Allister's death in the War of the Axe (the Seventh Xhosa War). Shortly thereafter, Colleen became even more severely depressed. Coupled with her bad health, it took its toll over the next three years. The last thing she did was make Eaton write a letter explaining that James was a Chatsam by virtue of his father being one Orson Chatsam. It was signed and witnessed. She gave the envelope to Sarah and said not to let Cullen or Duncan reap the family fortune without getting a piece. She loved James as a second son she could never produce. His share of the family fortune could never repay what the family did to Sarah, but maybe it would help her child or grandchildren. The letter also contained proof that Maude Chatsam was born out of wedlock to a household maid (that latter disappeared) and fathered by Cullen, or maybe Duncan, before he left for the Army. Lady Charlotte was not the mother, and Orson was not the father as they claimed. It was attested to by Duncan Chatsam, who swore he also took part in the rape after Cullen was done. He had coupled with the maid. Cullen always made him fuck the girls also, while he watched, or he would beat Duncan. The statement was legally sworn to and witnessed, prior to Duncan's death in 1849, by the local reverend and the family solicitor. Three weeks after the letter was recorded, Duncan hung himself. Six months later, Colleen passed away from natural causes. Sarah was sure it was from a lack of will to carry on.

Eaton and Sarah lived together in the same house for another eight years until Eaton passed away in 1858. No one knew their relationship after Colleen's death, but he left the house to Sarah and enough money to live on until she passed away at age seventy-two in 1878. When news reached James in Brazil, he made plans to travel to Oban and see the old family farm. The will had contained a letter saying she had placed an important document in the farmhouse that if found could change everyone's fortune. The sale of the house in London and the last of her savings amounted to just over 275 pounds. If James wanted, he could travel to search for the document and purchase the farm for less than that amount. She asked for forgiveness for him being born out of wedlock.

His mother's death and that letter were the only times Alex saw his father shed a tear. He returned from Oban in 1880, saying he could not purchase the family farm, but he did buy the one next to it. While the house was empty, his search turned up no hidden documents. Until his passing three years later, he was planning another search.

He was the last of the family as his grandparents and the rest of their children perished in a major smallpox epidemic in 1826, leaving Sara as an only child.

Chapter 1

Brazil, April 1888

The countryside had always been relaxing for Alex William MacNeil. Relax in the saddle and let the horse meander across the savanna at will. The green hills covered with crop vegetation and scattered quilting of copes, some patches of reddish earth to plant, and a few hectares of cotton, all against the ocean shore. It seemed to flow into a peaceful transition of where they supposedly came from to where they found ourselves today. The white lines of rolling surf against the blue green of the Atlantic waters marking the change from the fluid movement that we had no control over to the firm footings that we believed we did have some control on. Always the whims of Mother Nature's moods: currents versus storms, floods versus drought, cold versus hot. Humans established a foothold in the sand, good ole terra firma, and believed we were in control. We could retain our position in a physical space, generate heat with fire, find shelter, scrounge for food, and make use of water. But one important fact remained, our direction henceforward was something we had a very minute bit of control over because we were still dependents of Mother Nature. The storm that came in over the currents, ravaged the land, and killed Alex's wife and child was absolute proof of our pawn-like existence. Only seeing what we wanted to see most of our existence on earth. Was that why it didn't seem to matter anymore? Why, from up here on the hill looking down on the beach, did the white surf lines look like some kind of Morse code that said, You think you control your destiny, but guess again, humanoid?

It had been four months since the most severe windstorm anyone of the elders could remember had hit the area. Alex had never seen anything close to the carnage heaped on this corner of Brazil in his twenty-eight years. In talking to the people that survived the five hours of destruction, not one person, even ninety-two-year-old Emma Smith, could recall the strength or damage of the big blow. She recalled several hurricanes back in Alabama and Mississippi but nothing to compare to this last monster. While it produced unmeasurable winds and flooding, there was no funnel touching the ground. While the physical damage was tremendous, it had the aftermath that had turned Alex's life into its present funk. Yes, funk was a good description. Noncaring, self-pity, wonderment at Why me? and a desire to just live a life based on laissez-faire. Depression was replacing funk, and that had replaced melancholy. No matter what you called it, life was not fun anymore. Alex's wife, Winnifred, and their sixteen-month-old daughter, Margaret, had perished form the storm.

Alex had been out on the property. He and his crew had survived by taking refuge in the rugged, broken landscape in the only foothills on his property. Luckily the eight-to-ten-foot-deep gullies had given them protection. There were old creek beds barely wide enough for a horse to walk into. Winnie had sustained a compound fracture of both legs in the initial storm. The building they were seeking refuge in collapsed. Margaret, with her slight birth defect, and Winnie both succumbed to cholera due to their weakened condition in the flooded aftermath. The doctor said their immune systems were just incapable of fighting off the deadly decease. They became just two of the hundreds the storm claimed in one way or another. The cholera just added to the storm's total death count. Close to 20 percent of the area's population perished if you counted the slaves.

He was sitting on his horse on this hill looking out over the vista trying to figure if his future was here, or should he strike out on a new life? Brazil was about to change if Emperor Pedro II got his long campaign to abolish slavery passed. The vote was imminent. Maybe before the end of parliament next month. With Isabel, Princess Imperial of Brazil, promulgating the Lei Áurea (Golden Act), Brazil would no longer be the last country in the west to condone slavery.

Maybe Alex should head south to join with Colonel William Hutchinson Norris and the Confederados at Americana. It was said they were really bringing King Cotton back down south. The Colonel was extremely intelligent, and that was probably why he was the Alabama leader of the Knights of the Golden Circle. Once the invasion of Mexico was no longer an option, the Knights' infighting brought about their loss of power. Even the copperheads from the north could not change the outcome. The riches of the Saddle Ridge Hoard was still a mystery. The Knights of the Golden Circle, with great foresight, decided their dream was gone and their large supply of their gold too. Their current lifestyle was doomed.

Time to move to so supposedly better pastures. His dad had mentioned the Knights and the Saddle Ridge once or twice when the rum flowed freely but never again after his trip to London and Scotland. He just would say, Solve the riddle and all will be right. The stanch believers in King Cotton either had failed or were failing in Cuba, Mexico, and the interior. Even in the better growing conditions of Sao Luis, cotton would struggle to outstrip the profits of sugar and coffee. The slaves here were different than in the Deep South. They were a larger portion of the population, and many ex-slavers were now owners of either blacks or Indians. Two hundred plus years had