Chapter One

Pleasure Cruise

 

"Are you traveling across the Atlantic Ocean for pleasure, or are you with your parents?"

The two girls laughed at Scott's joke, gripping the ship's rail with one hand and holding their hats down on their heads with the other to prevent the breeze from blowing them into the sea. He silently thanked the gusts for pressing their soft pastel blue dresses against their bodies, revealing the shape of their breasts and hips.

"For pleasure," said the taller girl with the sun-bronzed hair tossing in the wind. "Our parents were supposed to sail to Scotland with us, but father took ill and mother stayed home with him in New York. Our aunt will meet us at the dock in Glasgow."

Scott extended his hand. "I'm Scott Cailean, just graduated from medical college, the class of 1914, from a Canadian university medical school. I specialized in Gynecology. I'm sailing home to live with my mother, Lady Caroline Cailean, on our family estate. My cousin is Sir Richard Cailean, the Laird of Blackthorne Estate.

"Gosh, your mom is titled nobility?" the first girl asked, shaking Scott's hand.

The other girl's handshake was less enthusiastic, almost icy. "Are we supposed to know your cousin?" she said. Her cheeks dimpled with her pout, and her glossy raven hair danced in the breeze, fluttering over her jewel-green eyes.

"Probably not," he replied. "I was just hoping you might be impressed by my family's titles."

"Oh, but your family sounds fascinating," the first girl replied. "I'd like to know more about your family and...what was it you called your mom's home?"

"Blackthorne House. A fortified manor house in Scotland."

The shorter girl's flirting pout had vanished. She fidgeted with the wide lavender sash around her slim waist and turned to her sister, "Kerrie, mother told us not to talk to strange men when we are alone."

"Oh, Piper, what can he do to us on this ship. Besides, we're not alone. There's almost a thousand passengers on this voyage."

"But Kerrie..."

"You're just like mother," she said, "always scolding and spoiling our fun." She turned back to me. "Don't pay any mind to Poppie. My name's Cadena. My sister's named Piper, but all our friends call her 'Poppie', and they call me 'Kerrie'.

"We're only half-sisters," Poppie said. "We have the same father, but different mothers. My father re-married when my mother died. I was less than a year old, then.

"We have two days yet before we dock," Scott said. "Perhaps we could have dinner at my table tonight?"

"Sure, sounds like fun."

"Kerrie, don't you think..."

"No, I don't think," she replied. "You do enough thinking for both of us, Poppie." She gave me a careless smile, "And besides, whenever I start thinking, it spoils the fun." She giggled, "There's two of us, and only one of him, so he can't drag us off to his cabin and..."

"Kerrie!" her sister gasped.

"Come on, Poppie, I'll race you to the salon, I'm dying for a drink." She grabbed her sister's arm and towed her at a run toward the bow. Scott laughed and waved as they plowed into a knot of strolling passengers.

 

Scott found a sheltered deck chair and sat down. Pulling out Sir Richard's telegram, he read it again for the tenth time:

 

Dear cousin Scott:

Congratulations on attaining your degree in medicine. All the family is proud of you. Could you see your way clear to staying with us this summer? I talked it over with the family, and we still want to offer you the situation I described in my previous letter. Enclosed is a check for two hundred pounds for your ticket and expenses. My wife, Lissa, sends her love, and says she looks forward to initiating you into the family. Please reply by the ship's wireless radio. Sir Richard.

 

Scott had petitioned for invitations to join a prestigious medical practice in London, at Whitechapel, or at least a situation with Charing Cross Hospital. Alas, the establishment viewed his Canadian pedigree as a stain on good breeding. With his meager funds exhausted, at least Scott was assured of provision with the family for the summer.

 

"This is such jolly fun," Kerrie said as the three laughed and talked over dinner. Even Poppie relented and joined in, her dimpled smile brightened our evening. "I had no idea the ocean was so big," Poppie said. "There must be millions of fish in it."

"A billion fish," Scott replied. "Or rather, I should say," he pointed his fork at their plates, "three short of a billion." He couldn't keep his eyes off their mouths as they ate. Kerrie, with her crimson Cupid's bow lips caressing those flesh-colored tidbits as they slid into her mouth. And Poppie's rosebud pout, sucking on the rim of her champagne glass.

Their dinner dresses made no secret of their feminine charms, showing another inch of their sweet pink flesh as they bent forward to pass the salt to him. Scott must have begged for the shaker a dozen times in the last half-hour. He felt the swelling of his manhood, and was grateful for it being concealed under the table.

After dinner they promenaded along the deck, the girls squealing with glee each time they saw a blazing star fall from the incredibly clarity of the vast, endless sky. They talked of their plans and dreams; Kerrie to be a ballet star, and Poppie to be a nurse.

"Daddy says there's going to be a war, you know," she said, "and there will be so many poor suffering men for me to give comfort to."

Scott wanted to ask her to come to his cabin and rub his swelling until it went down, but the words got wedged behind the lump in his throat. All he could eventually say was, "That's wonderful. Perhaps we could serve in the same hospital."

Poppie had checked with the ship's purser, and learned that Scott was telling the truth about himself. She guessed that being a doctor, and the son of titled and landed gentry made him a safe companion, perhaps even rich enough for a good candidate to become her husband. That proved she couldn't read his mind and didn't look at the bulge in his trousers. A plan had begun to form in the barbarous darkness deep in his brain.

"You both must be my guests at Blackthorne this summer," Scott said. "I've only seen it a few times when I was very young, but it was a magical place. My mother, Lady Caroline, and I traveled a lot until I left for the university and medical school. Then she returned home to live."

"Do you have horses?" Kerrie asked.

"I remember we had a stable, and it was always full of horses. They let me ride the gray mare. And there are moors, a huge pasture, and a forest. Mother never let me go near it though. She said there were goblins living in it, and they would eat me."

"Ugh!" Poppie said. "I would never go near that place."

"Oh, Poppie!" Kerrie replied. "Don't be such a child. It's just a story." She turned to Scott, "I'd love to visit Blackthorne. We could have such incredible adventures together." Her vivid green eyes sparkled as she looked at Poppie, "I want to explore that forest. Maybe there are fairies and elves. I'd love to discover the creatures in the forest." Turning back to Scott she asked, "Do you think they would like to play with me?"

"We'll both come," Poppie said, "if our Aunt Gerda gives permission. She'd have to come, too, of course, and chaperone us. Mom would never let us go alone."

"She's so-o-o old fashioned!" Kerrie said. "Always whispering to us about evil men who abduct pretty girls and keep them prisoners so they can do...oh, that awful, naughty thing with them."

"Better stay close to me then," Scott said. "You both need protecting." They smiled, and took his advice, each of them linking an arm with his as they continued their leisurely stroll along the deck. The moon had risen, and Kerrie began humming some American tune as she lay her warm, red-gold hair against Scott's shoulder.

 

After he had seen Kerrie and Poppie to their cabin, Scott hurried down the gangway to the wireless room. "I'd like to send a wire to Scotland," he said to the operator.

"A telegram? Right, mate, just fill out this form."

Scott scribbled the words, his hand trembling with the anticipation of achieving the wicked fantasy dancing in his mind;

 

Dear Cousin Richard:

Thank you for your kind invitation. I am sure I would be interested in a situation at Blackthorne. Arriving day after tomorrow. Have met two young girls traveling alone. Would like to have them visit along with me as my guests if agreeable. They are very beautiful, and I would like to share an amorous summer with both of them.

All my best to the family,

Cousin Scott Cailean

 

The purser woke Scott next morning with a knock on his cabin door. "Telegram for you, Mr. Cailean." Scott tore open the envelope. It was from Richard;

 

Of course, dear cousin, the girls shall be our guests at Blackthorne. Don't worry about getting permission from their Aunt Gerda, that won't be necessary. Please make sure they don't send a wire to their parents or their aunt or discuss their visit here at Blackthorne House with anyone on the ship. Leave everything to me. And you shall have your sexual adventures with both girls, I guarantee it!

Cousin Richard Cailean

 

Scott dressed, crumpled the paper, then went outside and threw it into the sea. He strode down the deck to breakfast; whistling a naughty tune, hands in his pockets and his straw hat tilted at a rakish angle.

"Kerrie has a headache from all the champagne she drank last night, but you're certainly happy this morning," Poppie said. "What's the good news?"

"I just got a wire before breakfast. I've been granted a situation at Blackthorne as our family's doctor. Plus, I'll be taking over Dr. Woolsey's surgery in the nearby village of Lympwick."

"It must be thrilling to get wireless telegram messages," Poppie said. "Poor Kerrie and I are forbidden to send or receive wires. Daddy says they are horribly expensive."

"Really!" Scott said with an inner thrill. All was well. Whatever cousin Richard had planned, it would remain a secret.

"And we don't have servants either. Kerrie and I have to dress in those horrid maid's costumes when we have important guests. I hate waiting on those old men with their leering eyes and their nasty, pinching fingers."

"How perfectly...awful," Scott replied.

"Do you have maids at Blackthorne House?"

"Oh, yes, lots. And they are well trained. My family is very fond of them."

"Do they like working for your family?"

"My cousin, Sir Richard, says they perform their duties with great affection, and once they come to Blackthorne House, none of them ever leave."

"How sweet," Poppie said. "I almost wish I were one of them."

"Perhaps my family will let you and Kerrie dress in one of their maid's costumes and pretend you are a Blackthorne maid for a few days...and nights."

"Hm-m-m, I have to think about that one." Her girlish pout changed to a frown. "Kerrie and I would absolutely hate having to be nice to strange men and compelled to obey their orders!"

They reached the stern of the ship and crossed over to the starboard side.

"Oh, look, there's Kerrie." Poppie's expression changed to alarm. "What's she doing?"

"From her posture bent over the rail, I'd say she's getting rid of her champagne."

"Oh, you're a doctor. Do something for her. Hurry." Poppie grabbed her hobble skirt and broke into a mincing run, dragging Scott after her.

"It appears she's already done it," he said as Kerrie looked up at them with a pale, forlorn face. "You'd better lie down awhile," he said to her. "My cabin is just two doors away. Oh, don't worry, Poppie and I will go play shuffleboard while you rest. Then you can join us for tea."

"Tea?" she croaked.

 

The waters of the Clyde estuary were choked with shipping as the passenger liner slipped into the channel at sunset. As they steamed past a noble destroyer and stately light cruiser. Scott doffed his cap and stood at attention. "God bless his Majesty's fleet," He whispered.

"How wonderfully they maneuver," Kerrie said. "The sailors look so splendid in their uniforms."

The liner docked, and the passenger's stairway slid against the ship with a thump. The three leaned against the rail, searching for a familiar face in the welcoming crowd.

"Do you see Aunt Gerda?" Poppie asked.

"No," Kerrie answered. "Where can she be?

They disembarked and pushed their way through the maelstrom of joyful reunions and confused travelers.

"Aunt Gerda said she would be near the passenger stairs, but she's nowhere to be seen." Poppie began to look worried.

"Perhaps her carriage was delayed in traffic," Scott said. "With all these new-fangled motor cars, it must be impossible for a carriage to arrive on time." He wrapped his arms protectively around both girls. Kerrie snuggled into his grasp, but Scott felt Poppie's body stiffen and tug away slightly. "Maybe I'd better go with you while you look for her where carriages are waiting." They managed to force their way through the crowd to the hackney cabs.

"Scott, Scott Cailean!"

"Richard!" he answered, "Is that really you?" A beaming face pushed toward them. He threw his arms around Scott with a tremendous hug. Kerrie and Poppie stood a little back, smiling and embarrassed by the men's public show of affection.

Richard turned his welcoming smile on the two girls. "And who are these charming young ladies with you?"

"Caldena and Piper Quinlan, it's my pleasure to present my cousin, Sir Richard Cailean."

"Gosh, a title and everything," Kerrie said. "Are we supposed to curtsy, or something?"

"Only if I order you to," Richard said with a grin.

Poppie was turning her head, searching for their aunt among all the carriages and the half-dozen primitive motor cars. "Kerrie, she's not here. What will we do?"

While they were looking in the other direction Richard quickly tugged Scott's sleeve and jerked his head toward his carriage. "Aunt Gerda won't be coming, I've seen to that," he whispered. Scott nodded.

"Ladies," Scott said in his most charming tone, "we would be pleased to take you to your aunt's house."

"Oh, we couldn't impose on your kindness," Poppie said.

"But what else can we do?" Kerrie replied. "We surely can't just stand here for hours, hoping she will show up." She glanced around apprehensively, "Besides, Poppie, I don't like the faces of some of the men hanging around us. They frighten me."

Poppie pirouetted on her toes, looking at the people swarming on the docks. "I think you're right, Kerrie." She turned back to Sir Richard, "Are you sure we wouldn't be imposing on you?"

"It would be our pleasure to take you home," he answered. Richard pulled the door open and took their hands to help them step up.

Poppie stopped, startled by the dark face inside the carriage, "Who is that huge black man?" she asked.

"That's just Gregor, my manservant," Richard said. He shrugged and swept his hand towards the docks. "I'm sure you will agree that a wealthy man will not travel among such crowds without protection. Wouldn't you feel safer with his strength to guard us?"

"Come on, Poppie," Kerrie said," we're behaving rudely and making fools of ourselves." She sprang up through the door and sat down across from Gregor.

Richard gave Scott a sly wink and they clambered in and sat across from the girls with Gregor. "What's your aunt's address?" he asked.

Poppie glanced at a card she took from her handbag. "The Callows, Graydrear Place, Tatterswell Street. I think mother said it's just south of Glasgow."

Richard's eyebrows went up. "I can't imagine such a name for a place in Bonnie Scotland." He leaned out the side window and called up to the driver, "Blanford, do you know the place?"

"I can find it, Sir," he answered. "It's right along our way."

Our carriage rattled out of the queue and dashed through the broad avenues leading outside the city. Kerrie and Poppie pressed against the windows, chattering and gushing with each new vista they passed. The buildings and houses thinned, and they turned into a deserted road. Poppie occasionally glanced secretly at Gregor's face. His bold stare at her body made her uneasy, but she said nothing.

After more than an hour of rattling along the road, Poppie's forehead wrinkled, and she looked nervously from Richard to Scott. "We've been riding for an awful long time; how much farther do you think?"

Richard passed the question to the driver.

"Not much farther, Sir Richard. That's the place, just ahead to our left."

They all looked out the windows.

"I never guessed Aunt Gerda lived in such a dreary, isolated place," Kerrie said. "It looks deserted."

Richard glanced at Scott with a "Better say something quick," look in his eyes. Scott smiled and spoke with a soothing voice. "With her humble pension to live on, I would suppose she has no choice."

"I don't know," Poppie said. "Mother always said her sister liked nice things."

"Well, you can ask her yourself in another minute," Richard said with a smile.

The carriage swung into the lane. Instead of curving around in front of the house, we went straight toward the stables. A young man was holding the wide door open. We slowed, and Blanford halted the horses inside. The young man quickly shoved the door shut, and I heard the locking beam thud into place. There was almost no light.

"Why did you take us in here?" Kerrie asked with a puzzled frown.

"Kerrie, look!" Poppie shrieked. Sir Richard and Gregor each had a large soft cloth in one hand, and were pouring a liquid onto it from a brown bottle in their other hand.

Poppie lunged for the door handle, tugging and jerking it frantically, but it was welded in place, and would not open the door. With a rumbling laugh, Gregor swept her up on his lap and pressed the cloth over her face. Richard did the same with Kerrie.

Scott sat there frozen, dumbfounded by their actions.

Kerrie was struggling on Richard's lap, her lovely legs kicking in the air. He gave Scott an intense look. "Open the other door, Scott, and let some air in. You don't want to breathe this stuff!"

Scott was a doctor. He knew that odor very well...Chloroform!

Poppie stared at Scott, her wide, emerald-green eyes filled with terror and pleading. Gradually the intelligence faded from them and her eyelids drooped, and closed. She and Kerrie were helplessly in the men's possession.

Richard and Gregor gagged and bound the unconscious girls and loaded them into the trunk of the carriage. He spoke to Blanford, "Let's take them home to Blackthorne House." The stable door opened again, and the young man at the door leaped up next to Blanford as he guided the carriage out onto the road and they headed south into the darkening night.

Scott's words must have sounded stupid and silly, "But I only wanted to seduce them."