Blaine MacAnders was silent the rest of the evening and the next day as they completed their trip to Badenyon, Blaines home in the Highlands.  He spoke only to give a few terse orders.  He did not speak to Rachel, or to Elizabeth, or to anyone else unless it was strictly necessary.  When Elizabeth brought his morning meal, and later his midday meal, he left them untouched.  Rachel tried to get Blaine to speak to her, but when she opened her mouth, he just gave her a withering look until she closed it again. 

Rachel couldnt believe that she had erred so badly.  She was sure that revealing "Elizabeths" secret (she still didnt know his real name) would drive Blaine into her--uh, his--arms, for certain, but it was not to be.  Perhaps she had mistaken her husbands merely curious gaze on her beloved Finn as manly lust.  How could she be so stupid?

Now the MacAnders was angry at her, now that she was days away from her English home, and she may be destined to a life of loneliness.  She had been certain that if she could drive Blaine into a mans arms, then she could be free to spend her nights, at least, with Finn.  Blaine was right; any babe that came from her would automatically look like Blaine, so chins would not wag.  They could come to an agreement:  during the day they would keep up the pretense of a married couple, but, at night, they could love and be loved by the ones they really wanted. 

Finn would, of course, object to such a shameful liaison, but he was sweet and simple-minded.  She could talk him around. 

By late afternoon they finally arrived at Blaines manor.  Rachels breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the imposing stone structure, high on the hills overlooking the sea.  Badenyon was not a manor, as Rachel had expected, but an entire fortress, with the manor house situated in the center, surrounded by gardens and outbuildings. 

Rachel stepped out of the carriage, giving her hand to Finn who--as always--pretended to be looking elsewhere, but--at the same time--held her tiny hand longer than was strictly necessary in his large, warm one.  Blaine stepped down beside her.  Just then a tiny and quite dirty child held out a bouquet of wildflowers to Rachel.  She took them, and she bent down to get on eye level with the little girl. 

"Whats your name?" Rachel asked gently.

The child didnt answer but pulled up the bottom of her skirt to hide her face. 

Rachel didnt press the child but said, instead, "My name is Rachel, and these are the prettiest flowers I have ever, ever seen.  Thank you so much." 

The child pulled down her skirt far enough to look at Rachel with one eye, and Rachel reached out and touched a blonde curl.  "I wish I had beautiful, golden curls like yours," she said, and the little girl reached out her own hand to grab a fistful of Rachels hair.  Rachel swung the girl up in her arms, mindless of the childs filthy state, and gave her a big hug.  Then she set her back down on the ground, and the child ran away, giggling. 

Rachel turned to look at Blaine, expecting him to still be brooding, but he was staring at her with a look verging on affection. 

"What a precious child," Rachel said to Blaine, slipping a hand into the crook of his arm. 

He looked down at her slightly startled for a moment, then he put his hand over hers and led her into the manor.  As he led her up a large stone staircase and down a long corridor, Rachel asked, "Where are we going?"

"I thought you might want to retire for the evening.  Weve had long days of travel.  Ill have someone bring you hot water to bathe, if you like."

Rachel sighed, "A bath sounds wonderful.  Thank you so much." 

Blaine opened the door to a beautifully appointed and quite feminine room.  It was not as opulent as some Rachel had seen in England--in fact, it was not as opulent as Rachels rooms in her fathers home--but it was tasteful and warm, nonetheless.  However, Rachel expected that Blaines rooms would be more masculine.  She looked at Blaine in surprise.  "This wasnt quite what I expected from your quarters, if you dont mind my saying."

"Dont you like it?"

"Blaine, its beautiful, but isnt it a little...womanly...for you?"

"Ah, my wife, you misunderstand.  We are not sharing quarters.  These rooms belonged to my late mother.  I thought they might quite suit you."

"Your...mothers?  Did she not share quarters with your father?"

"Not except when she cared to."

"Didnt the servants talk?"

"This is Scotland, Rachel.  We are free people here.  There are no servants at Badenyon, just those who do what they can to get by."

"Of course.  Then let me ask, didnt the people who arent servants but do the work of servants talk?"

"I doubt it.  My parents had separate quarters for years.  Everyone was used to it.  I assume it will be the same for us."

"And if I am lonely?"

Blaine smiled at Rachel and took her arm, leading her further into the room.  "Its a funny thing, these manor houses.  The Laird who built this one wanted to make sure that people could come and go as they pleased, sometimes without the prying eyes of others."  Blaine pushed on a section of paneling next to a giant fireplace, and Rachel gasped as it swung open, revealing a door.  Behind the door were a stone passageway and a set of stairs.  "I believe," Blaine said with mock innocence, "that this passage leads to the stables.  In case you get lonely, you can always go for a ride, and you wont have to to traipse through the entire house to get to the horses." 

"My Laird, youre not suggesting..."

"My wife," Blaine said with a mocking smile, "Im suggesting that we are two people forced into a marriage for political expediency.  We may have to marry to keep King Henry happy, but what we do in our own marriage to ensure our own happiness is no ones business but our own.  Your groom seems quite taken with you; why not see if that road might lead to your bliss?"

Rachel stood on tiptoes and kissed Blaine on the cheek, "I think this marriage is turning out rather nicely."  

"Are we ever going to get to the sex?"  complained Blaine, twisting a bit in Kurts arms so that he could look into his fiancés sparkling blue eyes. 

"You mean the sex between Blaine and Rachel?"

"Ewwe. Gross.  No."  Blaine swatted Kurt on the arm.  "I mean between Blaine and Elizabeth." 

"Its an historical romance, Blaine.  You cant have an overtly graphic sex scene.  It wouldnt be in keeping with the era."

"Youre not serious, Kurt.  Theres a reason they call these novels ‘bodice rippers.  I want some naked Blaine having his way with naked Kurt."

The color rose high on Kurts cheeks, "Honey, I just dont think I can write that kind of stuff.  Its so...embarrassing.  And its hard." 

"Hard is good."  Blaine pointed to Kurts laptop.  "Write that down." 

Kurt handed his laptop to Blaine.  "If you want explicit sex, youre going to have to write it." 

Kurt thought that would shut Blaine up, but it had a completely different effect.  Blaine looked at Kurt with wide, excited eyes.  "Really?  You mean it?"  Blaine was practically bouncing in his seat. 

Kurt fell back into the sofa cushions, continuing to hold the laptop out to Blaine.  "Sure, honey.  Knock yourself out."  

After Blaine left Rachel to explore her new den of iniquity, he retired to his own masculine quarters, giving orders to one of the passing maids to send Elizabeth to his room with a meal.  Once Blaine had entered his room, he unbuckled his sword and unpinned his plaid broach, letting the tail ends of his tartan fall, held up only by the heavy belt at his waist.  Pouring water from a pitcher into a wash basin, Blaine pulled off his linen shirt and began washing the road dirt from his face, arms, and neck.  Water cascaded down his washboard abs and bulging arms.  

"Really, Blaine?"  Kurt asked, raising one eyebrow. 

"Hush.  You said I could write this part."

Just as he was rinsing his face one more time, Blaine heard a small gasp, and he turned, dripping, to see a startled Elizabeth, mouth slightly open, eyes wide as she took in Blaines sexy, wet physique.  In two strides, Blaine reached her, taking the tray from her hands and putting it on a side table.  Then he reached out and pulled her to him, pressing her firmly against his hard, wet chest. 

Lowering his head, he captured her lips in a...

"Wait, wait wait.  Lowering his head?  Im taller, Blaine." 

Blaine moved the cursor and hit the delete key a few times.  "Fine," he muttered.

He captured her lips in a searing kiss, branding her mouth with his heat.  Her lips parted slightly in surprise, and Blaine pressed his advantage by plundering her moist mouth with his searching tongue.  Elizabeths lips opened wider, and pressed herself more closely to Blaines body, soaking her own chest with the water glistening in Blaines incredible chest hair, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Blaine pulled his lips away from her mouth to kiss down her jaw and onto her throat.  Elizabeth threw her head back with wanton abandon, exposing her neck to her masters burning kisses, feeling desires tingle creep into every part of her nubile, young body, and wanting Blaine with every fiber of her being.  

"Who are you?"  Blaine murmured between passionate kisses. 

Kurt stiffened in Blaines arms.  "My Laird?"

Blaine moved quickly to wrap his arms around Elizabeth, trapping her, and grasping both of her round, tight butt cheeks in his hands.  With his mighty strength, against which Elizabeth was helpless, he pulled her tight against him, and they both gasped as they felt each others massive erections connect through layers upon layers of wool and linen. 

Blaine pushed, forcing Elizabeth to walk backward until she was against the stone wall.  Blaine pressed his body even more firmly against her, and he said again, "Who are you?  I think we can safely assume you were not Elizabeth on your naming day."  To punctuate his comment, Blaine rolled his hips up to slide his engorged manhood against that of Elizabeths.  Elizabeth groaned with pleasure at the feel of her masters hard man rod, and she shuttered, "Im Kurt.  Kurt McBurt.  Please, dont stop.  I need to feel you throbbing inside me. I fear I will die if I must wait one more second to feel your manhood pounding me and splitting me in half." 

"Stop, stop, youre killing me."

Blaine arched an eyebrow.

Kurt leaned forward and closed the laptop with a click.  "Okay, I promise Ill write you a sex scene tomorrow, and it will be hot.  But you have to promise to never, ever, ever use the phrase ‘man rod ever again.  I may have to go poke out my minds eye." 

"Can I say ‘engorged member?  What about ‘throbbing manhood?"

Kurt kissed Blaine softly, wrapping his arms around Blaines neck.  Then he pulled back and whispered against Blaines lips, "Not until after the divorce."