Lorenzo Marks' Deviant Tales
Lorenzo Marks'Deviant Tales 


Fiona’s Highland Fling



Lorenzo Marks



(Story idea by Wattie Armour)



© 2020 by Lorenzo Marks. All rights reserved.




Chapter One


Oh wow, this is beautiful! Maybe it won’t be so bad here after all! Fiona thought as the fishing boat chugged into the picturesque harbor of Glenincree. It was a crisp, cool morning, and even though she was jet-lagged after her flight from New York, Fiona found the bracing sea air quite invigorating.


“Here we are, missy,” the boat driver said. “The Isle of Brae, home of your ancestors!”


“Who?” Fiona said. “Oh, yes! I’m so looking forward to meeting everyone!”


“And it looks like the feeling is mutual,” the boat driver said, nodding toward a small huddle of people on the quayside.


Ah, that must be the welcoming committee. Time to get into character.


While the boat driver tied the boat up against the landing dock, Fiona reached into her purse. “I’ve only got American dollars, is that okay?”


“Money is money!” the boat driver smiled as he counted out the notes.


Indeed it is, Fiona thought. And it’s the only reason I have come to this backwater island. Okay, best face forward. Time to go to work!


The boat driver helped her up onto the dock and then brought up her bags. “Well, here you are then, young lady,” he said. “Do you want any help with introductions?”


“No, that won’t be necessary,” Fiona said, looking over at the waiting group. If I can’t handle this bunch of Celtic peasants, I shouldn’t even be here!


“Well, I’ve got to get back to the mainland before the weather turns,” said the boat driver. “Enjoy your stay—and good luck with the dance competition!”


“Oh, thanks,” Fiona said. Right. The dancing event at the Brae Highland games—the other part of the reason she had traveled all the way across the pond to this remote Hebridean island. Back in New York, when she had been combing through the hacked private and personal information of the real Fiona Campbell—the other Fiona—she had almost missed the little gem of an email from a New York attorney that had turned out to be the first step in this unexpected journey.


As with all of her files of potential interest, she had illegally obtained Miss Campbell’s details from the NYPD Missing Persons Archives—Fiona having concluded early in her criminal career that it was safer to steal the identity of a person who was well, currently inactive. Miss Campbell, a born and bred New Yorker who never knew her father and lost her mother last year, had been missing for over six months, which meant that there was a good chance she wouldn’t resurface any time soon. Unfortunately a little more online digging had revealed that she had little money in the bank and her credit card was nearly maxed out. Fiona had been about to move on to her next potential victim when she had skimmed through Miss Campbell’s email account and one word had practically jumped off the screen at her—inheritance!


According to the email, a distant aunt in Scotland had recently passed away, Miss Campbell had been mentioned in the will, and she had been invited to the attorney’s offices to discuss it. Her interest piqued, Fiona had sent a carefully worded message back, and after a couple more exchanges was satisfied that the attorney had never met Miss Campbell in person before, and at this point in time had no idea that the lady in question was officially listed as missing. Sensing that this was an opportunity not to be missed, Fiona had contacted an underground forger she knew, and then armed with a new social security card, driver’s license, and passport, had made an appointment with the attorney, a Mr. Leon B. Ewing.


Up in his sumptuous Wall Street office, Mr. Ewing had informed Fiona that the will had already been read to the immediate family in Scotland, and that he had been asked to locate her as the only beneficiary living in the United States. Then he had casually mentioned, “Miss Edith Campbell left an estate amounting to the equivalent of approximately one and a half million dollars.”


Trying to keep her voice even, Fiona had said, “I see. And how many other beneficiaries are there?”


“Three. For whatever reason, your great aunt chose to bypass her nephew—who is your second cousin once removed—and instead named his daughter and two sons—as well as yourself, of course.”


I’ll bet that caused a stir! Fiona had thought excitedly as she did the basic math. Over three hundred and fifty thousand dollars!


Mr. Ewing had continued, “There is one proviso, however. Apparently Great Aunt Edith was a rather eccentric old lady, as well as an aficionado of Scottish Highland dancing—are you familiar with it?”


“Highland dancing?”


“Yes, a big cultural thing over there, I understand. Anyway, in order to claim your inheritance, you are required to visit the land of your forefathers and complete a month of dance training, after which you are to compete at the local Highland gathering.”


Trying to quickly process this sudden twist, Fiona had asked, “Do I have to win it?”


“No you don’t. But—and here the will is very precise about this—you must finish all of the training as well as the competition to qualify for your money. This stipulation also applies to the three named siblings in Scotland.”


“And what happens if any of us should fail to finish?”


“Then those beneficiaries are declared null and void and their allotments withheld and dispersed to worthy charities further named in the will.”


Interesting, Fiona had thought. She had studied ballet for a few years in high school, and she kept herself in good shape. There was no reason why she couldn’t pull this off. A month of light dance training and then a few days prancing around in a stupid little competition that she didn’t even have to win—what could possibly go wrong?






“She doesn’t look like a Campbell,” Elizabeth said, as the slender young American girl walked toward them.


“But a bonny looking lass, nonetheless,” said her husband, Gordon.


“Aye, very slim and supple,” said Uncle Archie.


“Indeed,” said Gordon. “Good posture too. Looks strong for her size.”


“Well, she’ll need to be when she starts her training!” Uncle Archie chuckled.


“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Maurice Finn, the family solicitor. “We need to be absolutely sure first. If she’s what we think she is, then you boys can have all the fun you want—and more importantly, the Campbells will get back her share of the money.”


“Aye, that senile old woman thought she could cut off her great nephew,” Gordon said. “But by the time this is over, we’ll have it all!”


“Hush yourselves,” Elizabeth whispered. “She’s almost within earshot.”


The four of them waited with fixed smiles as the American girl trundled her Samsonite suitcase behind her. Maurice stepped forward and put out his hand. “Welcome, Miss Fiona! My name is Maurice Finn, the local executor of Miss Edith Campbell’s estate.”


“Pleased to meet you, Mr Finn,” Fiona said, shaking his hand.


“Please just call me Maurice. This is a small island and we don’t stand on ceremony here. Let me introduce you to Gordon and Elizabeth Campbell, your second cousins—”


“Once removed,” Fiona interjected with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”


“How was your flight, dear?” Elizabeth said.


“It was comfortable enough, thanks,” Fiona said.


“I’m sure you’re keen to get settled in at the farm but I’d be honored if you’d join us for a spot of lunch first.”




“Oh, I’m forgetting my manners,” Elizabeth said. “This is Uncle Archie. You’ll be staying on his farm for the duration of your training. Our cottage simply doesn’t have the space.”


“I see,” Fiona said, eyeing Uncle Archie dubiously. “Will the others be staying there too?”


“Others?” Elizabeth said.


“Your sons and daughter.”


“Ah. Well no, they’ll be sleeping at home, of course. But they will be training with you during the day.”


“Right.” Fiona studied Uncle Archie again. “Will anyone else be sleeping at the farm?”


“Just my sister, Molly,” Uncle Archie said. “She’s going to be your dance instructor.”


Fiona pondered this for a moment and said, “Maybe I could find some accommodation in the village. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”


Uncle Archie said, “I don’t think Molly—”


“We shouldn’t be talking about this out here on the dock,” Elizabeth interjected. “Let’s go back to the cottage now and have something to eat. We’ll discuss everything there. Archie, would you help Fiona with her bags, please?”


Uncle Archie took the suitcase and carry-on bag, and Elizabeth hooked her arm around Fiona’s and led her toward the village. Gordon and Maurice allowed them to get a few yards ahead as they gazed fondly at the American girl’s tight ass.


“I’ll say it again,” said Gordon. “She’s a bonny looking lass, is she not?”


“Aye, she is that,” Maurice said. “But Elizabeth’s right. She doesn’t look like a Campbell.”


“If she’s not, then I’ve got to hand it to her. She’s a very self-assured young lady.” Gordon said. “Come on then, let’s go and find out.”






Chapter Two


“There! That’s got it!” said Uncle Archie as he pressed the release of the combination lock on Fiona’s suitcase. He freed the zipper tags from the clasp, laid the suitcase on the coffee table, and unzipped it.


“Shh!” whispered Maurice. “You might wake her!”


“Oh, don’t you fret,” Elizabeth said, brushing Fiona’s hair away from her face. “She’ll be out for hours, trust me. I laced her food with just the right amount of sedative as per Widow Kelly’s instructions.”


Gordon stopped sifting through the contents of Fiona’s carry-on bag for a moment and gazed at the young beauty now laid out on his sofa. There were so many depraved things that he wanted to do to this girl, but he knew that he would have to be patient. If Maurice’s information turned out to be correct, then they would have to make sure that they had enough evidence to keep her here. And Gordon hoped that would be for years to come! He picked up her passport and flipped through the pages once more with a sigh. “Well, this looks genuine enough, I’m sorry to say.”


Sitting beside him, Maurice held up Fiona’s social security card and driver’s license. “And so do these. Nice and new—too new for my liking.”


At the other end of the coffee table, Uncle Archie and Elizabeth were removing Fiona’s clothes one by one from her suitcase, turning them inside out, and then laying them on the floor. Gordon’s cock twitched as he watched Uncle Archie hold up a pair of red sports panties. More sport attire followed, sweatpants, a hoodie, leggings, running shoes, vests, t-shirts, a headband, even a once piece swimsuit.


“She’s certainly come prepared for a workout!” Uncle Archie said as he removed the last item of clothing.


“But there’s nothing here to incriminate her,” Gordon said. “Maurice, are you sure your information was correct?”


“As sure as I can be. According to New York City records, Fiona Campbell disappeared six months ago, and hasn’t officially been seen since.”


“There must be something!” Gordon said, his eyes now resting on Fiona’s gently undulating breasts.


“Well, maybe there’s been some kind of a mistake,” Uncle Archie said mournfully. “Perhaps she really is a Campbell after all.”


“She’s no Campbell,” Elizabeth said. “Just look at that dark hair.”


“Check for a secret compartment,” Gordon said, running his hands around the bottom of the carry-on bag.


“Nothing,” Uncle Archie said. “No seams or anything that might be a switch.”


“Same here.” Gordon dropped the bag onto the table and his eyes wandered again to the desirable young morsel sleeping on his couch. He frowned and then went and knelt beside her. She was wearing jeans and running shoes and a loose sweater which had ridden up to reveal a tantalizing strip of bare flesh. Gordon took hold of the sweater and slowly began to draw it higher up the girl’s body.


“What are you doing, Gordon?” Elizabeth said.


“Just a thought,” Gordon said, as inch by inch, Fiona’s midriff came into view. He paused to admire her pretty little indented navel and the line of fluff that disappeared down into her jeans, then he pulled the sweater right up to her armpits and uncovered her bra.




“Well, bugger me!” Uncle Archie said.


“I’ve never seen one of those before,” Elizabeth said. “They think of everything these days, don’t they?”


Sewn into the band of the leopard print bra was a mesh pocket through which another American passport was clearly visible. Gordon could barely keep his fingers from trembling as he lifted Fiona’s arm aside and removed the passport. Underneath it were another social security card and a driver’s license, and without even bothering to read them, he handed all of the identification documents to Maurice. He kept his eyes fixed on Fiona’s pert breasts as Maurice read out, “Miss Fiona Perry, aged twenty one. Place of birth, Monroe, Ohio, USA. There you go, folks. It looks like you’ve got your money back!”


“Aye,” said Gordon, tenderly pulling the sweater back down. “And welcome to the family, Fiona.”






Fiona opened her eyes and blinked into the darkness. For a moment she thought she was back in her apartment in New York but then it all came back to her—the plane journey, the boat chugging into the pretty harbor, meeting the Campbells on the dock, and then sitting down to lunch with them, but after that—nothing. She didn’t even remember going to bed! Confused, she attempted to sit up, but her head felt heavy and she slumped back into the deep pillow. As her faculties slowly returned, she tried hard to dredge up any recollections at all—had she gone to bed by herself or had somebody put here? If so, what had they seen of her possessions? Panicked, she felt around under the sheets and ascertained that she wearing her panties and a t-shirt, but to her great dismay, that she was also braless!


She struggled up, swung her legs out of bed, and squinted into the gloom. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a wardrobe, a dresser, and a chair, in an otherwise sparse room. She steadied herself against the bed and padded barefoot on cold linoleum toward the dresser where she was relieved to find her suitcase and carry-on bag. Her travel clothes were neatly folded on the chair, and her pulse quickened as she searched for her bra, eventually locating it at the bottom of the pile. She held her breath as she felt around for the side pocket—and heaved a deep sigh of relief when she felt her real passport in there.


She pulled open the Velcro side pocket and checked to make sure her real social security card and driver’s license were also there, and then rummaged in her carry-on bag until she found her purse. After probing with her fingers for a minute or so, she was satisfied that her fake documents and her wallet containing her cash and credit cards were all still there. The only thing she couldn’t find was her phone. After putting everything else back, she took the bra containing her real documents, crept back to bed, and slipped it under the pillow. Then she felt around the surface of the bedside table. No phone there either.


The room was cold and she pulled the blanket up to her neck and stared up at the ceiling. The big question now was whether anyone had seen her original documents. If she had put herself to bed, then the answer had to be no. If not, one of them at least, might already be onto her. Although she was still relatively new at being a professional con artist, Fiona knew that the key to success was confidence—particularly when things didn’t work out as planned. If her hosts suspected that she was an impostor, her best strategy would be to play it cool and then make a quiet exit without their knowledge.


She looked at the dark bundle of her belongings on the chair and briefly considered whether it might not be best to get out now before everybody woke up. The downside to that was that she didn’t know where she was, and she would need to locate her phone first. Besides, even if she made it to the harbor, it was unlikely that she would be able to get a ride back to the mainland without the Campbells finding out. Then there was the question of all that money she would be walking away from. What if she was overreacting? She had already invested a lot of time and energy getting this far. Okay, she needed to stay cool, keep her wits about her, and be ready to run at the first sign of trouble. With that, she closed her eyes—but she doubted she would get any more sleep tonight.






“Good morning! Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!”


Fiona’s eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. It was already light and a buxom, red-haired woman dressed in a sweatsuit was standing in the doorway. She had piercing blue eyes and rosy cheeks and there was something disconcerting about the way the woman was looking at her. Fiona drew the blanket up to her neck and said, “Where am I?”


“Why you’re on Stone Farm, where you’ll be doing your dance training. I’m Aunt Molly—you met my brother Archie yesterday.”


“I’m at the farm already? I was having lunch with the Campbells. I don’t remember—”


“You fell asleep, my dear! You must have been terribly jet lagged. They decided it would be better to bring you straight here. I hope you slept well because we’ve got a lot to do.”


“Who put me to bed?”


“I did. You were quite a dead weight, I might add!”


Fiona covertly slipped her hand under the pillow to reassure herself that her bra and real documents were still there. “Have you got my phone?.”


“Your phone? No dear, I have not. Maybe it’s still at the cottage. We can check with the Campbells later, but now we really must get started. The bathroom is down the hallway. Change into your sweats and then we’ll have a bit of breakfast. See you downstairs in half an hour.”


Fiona listened to the sound of Aunt Molly’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and then crept across to her bags to make a proper search for her phone. After taking out every item, it was nowhere to be seen, and worse, she realized to her dismay that most of the sports clothes that she had packed were also missing!


What the hell is going on here?


Fiona again considered cutting her losses and getting out now, but then she made herself stop and consider the situation. First, running away would only draw attention to herself. If they knew about her, she might well get stopped at the airport, and a potential can of worms could be opened. Not an option. Besides, there was most likely a reasonable explanation for this unexpected turn of events. She may very well have been jet lagged, her phone was probably waiting for her at the Campbells’ cottage, and her sports clothes might simply have been mislaid during an airport security search.


Keep calm and see what transpires—and think of the money!


Having made the decision to keep going as planned, Fiona picked through the rest of her clothes to see if there was anything suitable. She had no idea what her training might entail but with little choice remaining, she slipped into a pair of jeans and running shoes and pulled on a loose sweater. After locating the very basic bathroom and opting not to use the shower, she washed her face, cleaned her teeth, and went downstairs to the kitchen.


Aunt Molly looked up from the table, and said, “Oh, I thought you understood. We’re going to be working out today.”


“Yeah but, um, I couldn’t find my gym clothes,” Fiona said.


“Well, that outfit most certainly won’t do,” Aunt Molly said, pushing her chair back. “You sit down and have some muesli and I’ll see what I can find for you.”


Left alone again, Fiona poured herself a glass of orange juice and then tipped some of the granola into a bowl. Looking out of the window at the damp fields, it suddenly struck her just how far from home she was. As with all of her previous gigs, the success of this mission depended upon how well she managed the people and circumstances around her, but she seemed to have lost her grip here even before she had gotten started. First, she needed her phone back. There were some important contacts in there and she felt vulnerable without it. Then she needed to talk to that creepy lawyer guy, because she wasn’t about to just start jumping through hoops with this overweight dyke before she understood the ground rules. Everything was moving along a little too fast for her liking.


“Well, this should do the trick. Not very thick but you’ll soon get warmed up with a little exercise! Here, try it on!” Aunt Molly said, tossing a drab garment onto the kitchen table.


Fiona held it up and then gave Aunt Molly an incredulous look. Surely she wasn’t serious? It was a cotton gray, one piece jumpsuit that looked like it belonged to a twelve year old!


“I can’t wear this!” Fiona said.


“It’s all I can find at short notice, and we can’t delay much longer,” Aunt Molly said.


“Look, I need to speak to that legal guy Maurice before we go any further,” Fiona said, dropping the jumpsuit back on the table.


Aunt Molly frowned at her. “Well, it’s your choice, but under the terms of the endowment, you are required to start your training at precisely eight o’clock every day. Maurice will be here to witness that, but if you’re not ready, then I’m afraid you might have wasted your time coming here.”


“That’s insane!” Fiona said. “I’ve barely set foot on this island and I haven’t even been given a chance to think!”


Aunt Molly folded her arms and said, “Don’t blame me, young lady. I’m doing my part and if you want your money, I suggest you do yours.” She looked at her watch. “Maurice and the Campbells will be here a little before eight, so you’ve got about twenty minutes. My advice would be to get changed and be ready first. Then you can argue about the legalities.”


Fiona looked again at the ridiculously small jumpsuit. As much as she hated the idea of wearing it, Aunt Molly had a point. Had she really come all this way to blow it on the first day? With a sigh, she picked up the flimsy garment and stood up. “Alright, but tomorrow I’m buying new sweats, okay?”


“Well, if you can get a boat over to the mainland tonight and get back in time for tomorrow’s eight o’clock start, I’d be surprised. But I think you should cross that bridge when you come to it. Right now, you’d better get up to your room. Time’s a ticking!”






Chapter Three


Fiona let out an exasperated groan as she gazed forlornly at her profile in the bedroom mirror. The undersized jumpsuit clung so tightly to her body that she may as well have been naked! Every dip and curve was accentuated, and the clearly defined outlines of her breasts, buttocks and vulva left nothing to the imagination! To make matters worse, all of her sports bras had gone missing at the airport and when she had attempted to use her rather bulky security bra, the damn clasp had snapped! She turned left and right but there was no way of hiding the prominent shape of her nipples. At least she had managed to get her panties on underneath. She twisted around to check out her butt and let out a sigh when she saw her obvious panty line. Well, it could have been much worse, she guessed, as she tugged down on the legs that reached only to the tops of her thighs. The rest of her legs remained bare because—surprise, surprise—her leg warmers were also gone, but luckily she still had her running shoes, which she now pulled on over a pair of ankle socks.


She took one more apprehensive look at herself in the mirror, attempted in vain to pull the tight cotton away from her freely bouncing breasts, and then not wanting to risk defaulting on a technicality, crept nervously back downstairs.






“I’m cold, Dad!” Douglas Campbell said, pressing his hands deeper into his tracksuit pockets. “Do we really have to go through with this just to get our money?”


“And it’s embarrassing!” said Andrew, his younger brother. “I mean, Highland dancing for Christ’s sake! What if somebody sees us?”


“Stop your moaning,” Gordon said to his sons. “You’ve only got to do this for a few weeks and then you’ll be financially secure for life.”


He checked his watch and saw that it was a quarter to eight. He wasn’t sure how strict Maurice would be about timekeeping, but he didn’t want to take any chances. His two slothful boys, he could handle. It was his headstrong daughter, Heather he was concerned about. She had been studying away at college in Edinburgh and was none too happy to learn that she had to attend this dancing class in order to receive her share of the endowment. But money is a powerful incentive, and if everything was going to schedule, Elizabeth would be bringing her along any moment.


They followed the footpath from the road until they reached the paddock behind Uncle Archie’s stone farmhouse. There was no sign of anyone else, and Gordon wondered if something might have gone wrong overnight. Apart from the obvious prize of securing the entire endowment for himself and his family, he had been very much looking forward to having endless hours of fun with the fit young American girl who had unwittingly wandered into his clutches. He desperately hoped that she hadn’t smelled a rat and run off in the night. Perhaps tampering with her luggage while she had been unconscious had been a little rash.


“So where are Uncle Archie and Aunt Molly?” Andrew said impatiently. “Are you sure you’ve got this right, Dad?”


“For the last time—” Gordon began, but then the back door of the farmhouse opened and Aunt Molly appeared. She was dressed in her customary attire of dungarees, fell boots, and thick roll neck sweater, and because it was a chill morning she had donned a woolen hat with her red hair sticking out from under the sides.


She took two long strides and then stopped and turned toward the open door. “Fiona! Do hurry up! You only have ten minutes!”


The doorway remained empty, and then Aunt Molly said, “Alright, have it your way. I’m not prepared to waste my time here. We’ll just tell Mr. Finn that you have decided to relinquish your share of the endowment, shall we?”


A shadow moved inside the hallway and then Fiona appeared with her arms crossed over her chest. Gordon caught his breath as he got his first glimpse of the splendidly snug outfit she was wearing. Unlike his boys, who were wrapped up in fleece lined tracksuits, the American girl was squeezed into a tight jumpsuit with a plunging neckline, short sleeves, and legs that came to a halt midway down her firm thighs! As she approached, he could see the outline of her underwear which only served to accentuate the enticing bulge of her mons!


The clearly flustered young lady hugged herself tightly as she shuffled, head down, into the cool morning air while Aunt Molly strode briskly ahead of her. “Good morning, boys! Where is Heather?”


That is a very good question, Gordon thought as he dragged his eyes away from Fiona’s shapely, bare legs. He was just about to figure out how he might convince Maurice Finn to give them a pass when he saw the solicitor’s white Honda Jazz winding its way up the road from the village. It pulled up beside the paddock and Elizabeth and Maurice climbed out, and then after a dramatic pause, Gordon spotted his daughter’s long, golden locks as she extricated herself from the cramped vehicle. He breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Why, there she is now. Right on time, I believe!”


Now that the moment of uncertainty had passed, Gordon relaxed a little and returned his attention to the unfortunate American girl who, having noticed his two sons, had now retreated a few steps back toward the farmhouse. She really did have a superbly trim body and Gordon’s cock twitched in his underpants as he imagined the moment when he would get to to see her in all her fleshly glory!


“Everybody’s here I see, so I’ll just put that on digital record,” Maurice Finn said, raising his smartphone.


“So where’s this long lost cousin?” Heather asked, as she gave her father a cursory hug.


“Cowering over there by the house,” Gordon said with a wry smile.


“Good God!” Heather chuckled. “Whatever is she wearing?”


“Apparently most of her sportswear went missing at the airport,” Aunt Molly said, winking at Gordon. “That was all I could find for her.”


The previous evening while they had been ransacking their sleeping beauty’s suitcase, they had agreed not to tell the kids about the fake passport. Not yet, in any case. This was because they had opted to manage Fiona’s degeneration on a day to day basis, at least until Maurice had obtained more concrete and damning evidence on her. If they were to find out later that they had miscalculated in any way, they would have plenty of wiggle room to backtrack and let the young lady go free without having incriminated themselves. Meanwhile they could have some fun manipulating Fiona by using the endowment as leverage!


“She looks a tad on the cold side!” Andrew said.


“And a wee bit on the shy side!” Douglas added.


Gordon glanced at his two teenage sons with interest. He had been wondering how they would respond to this nubile young American girl, and the eager look in their eyes suggested that they were most definitely chips off the old block!


“Fiona!” Aunt Molly shouted. “Come over here introduce yourself to your relatives!”


Fiona stayed where she was and hugged herself tighter, so Aunt Molly said, “Remember what I told you before—you need to be ready for class by eight o’clock, or your entire journey will have been wasted. Isn’t that right, Mr. Finn?”


“That’s correct,” Maurice said, still filming. “You really do need to get yourself over here right now, Fiona. You’ve still got a couple of minutes left.”


As Fiona reluctantly shuffled toward them, Gordon suppressed a little chuckle. Even though batty old Aunt Edith had insisted upon these classes as a bizarre condition of her will, he guessed that Maurice probably had the latitude to make allowances for tardiness, and that applied to all of these youngsters. But by dangling the financial carrot, they were able to lay out the ground rules upon which they could build later—except that if everything worked out as he hoped, only the ill-fated Fiona would eventually be required to follow them!


When she finally reached the rest of the group, Fiona glanced quickly around and then lowered her eyes, clearly ill at ease with her inadequate covering. While the Campbell siblings were all kitted out in thick tracksuits, and the older folk were suitably attired in warm jackets, Fiona was the only one baring any flesh on this chilly morning, as the goosebumps standing out on her arms and legs bore testament!


Maurice said, “Fiona, meet your second cousins, Douglas, Andrew, and Heather.”


“Hi, Fiona!” Andrew said with obvious enthusiasm.


“It’s great to finally meet you!” added Douglas.


Heather continued to look down her nose at the newly acquired family member, and said nothing. Fiona too, remained silent and kept her head down. It was interesting, Gordon thought, how quickly this confident young lady had lost her composure. And all it took was a little bit of bodily exposure, particularly when everybody else was so well wrapped up! They hadn’t even started their training yet, and already the poor girl was at a distinct disadvantage!


Aunt Molly said, “You’ve flown all this way to meet your family, Fiona. You could at least say hello to them.”


Fiona reluctantly raised her face, and to Gordon’s delight her cheeks had acquired a beautiful ruddy hue. Making quick eye contact with each of them, Fiona mumbled, “Hello, everyone.”


Heather said, “You’re right, Andrew. The American girl is shy!”


“Now then, Heather,” Elizabeth said. “Fiona is our guest. Please be nice.”


Fiona suddenly raised her chin and glared at Heather. It was obvious to Gordon that those two were not going to get along, which raised a lot of delectable possibilities for the future. Both of them were proud and strong willed girls, and in an even contest it would have been interesting to see who would have come out on top. Sadly for Fiona, even though she didn’t yet understand the full scale of her predicament, she wasn’t going to stand a chance.


“Mr. Finn,” Fiona said with as much dignity as she could muster. “Due to an unexplained mix up at the airport, I have been left without any sports clothing, and as you can see, this borrowed outfit is wholly inadequate for the weather conditions. I request a deferment to my training, so that I can buy a replacement set on the mainland.”


Everybody looked at her and Gordon was impressed. This feisty young madam wasn’t going to go down without a fight, was she?


“A deferment, eh?” Maurice raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. The rules are very clear. We have to proceed on time every morning—and that applies equally to everyone.”


Fiona looked at him in disbelief. “B-But, I’m cold!”


“I understand that, but my hands are tied,” Maurice said. “Of course you can always default, if you feel you’re not up to it.”


Fiona snorted impatiently, “This is absurd! Doesn’t anybody else have a sweat suit I can borrow?”


“I think our stuff would be too big for you,” said Douglas.


“And I don’t let other people wear my clothes,” Heather smirked.


“Besides, it’s already eight,” said Aunt Molly. “We have to start now. Let’s begin with a bit of aerobic exercise. That should get you warmed up!”






Chapter Four


The older folk had retreated to the edge of the paddock, but worryingly for Fiona, it looked as if they were staying to watch. Aunt Molly had the four young participants gather in a circle around her, making it impossible for Fiona to hide. She was still confused and angry about the lack of assistance she was receiving, but the strict timetable had given her little time to gather her thoughts. Thinking always of the money, she had instinctively decided to go with this for now, even though her legs were beginning to tremble from the cold. At least the sun was breaking through the cloud, so if she followed Aunt Molly’s advice and did some exercise, she might be able to warm her body sufficiently to get through the day—and then she planned on raising hell about her unfair treatment so far this morning!


“Okay!” Aunt Molly clapped her hands. “Some stretching exercises to warm up those legs muscles. Right leg out, knee bent, left leg back and straight, and turn to the side.”


Fiona kept on clutching her chest as the others took up the position. Aunt Molly looked at her and said, “Fiona? Are you joining us?”


With a muted groan, Fiona realized she had no choice but to follow Aunt Molly’s commands. By now she could only assume that if she refused to train with the others, she would automatically default on the terms of the endowment. And there really wasn’t any point freezing out here just standing still, so she took a deep breath, and with her arms still wrapped around her, adopted the position as the others were doing.


“That’s not quite right, Fiona,” Aunt Molly said. “Watch how the rest of us are doing it. Place your right hand on your right knee, and your left hand on your hip.”


Fiona looked up at the sky as she hesitantly complied with Aunt Molly’s instructions. Her nipples had been jabbing at her arms ever since she had left the warmth of the farmhouse, and she knew that the meager jumpsuit would do nothing to hide the shape of them. Sure enough, Andrew immediately exclaimed, “Holy Christ! She’s not wearing a bra!”


“Did you lose your underwear at the airport, too?” Heather laughed.


“No, she’s still got her knickers on,” said Douglas, “I can see her panty line!”


In spite of the cold, Fiona felt her cheeks glowing. Judging by their amused tone, it was apparent that she wasn’t going to get any sympathy from her fellow inheritors. It now occurred to her that maybe they were being deliberately mean to make her want to quit, and thereby take her share of the money too. That thought gave her renewed determination as she tried to ignore the leering expression on the boys’ faces. As embarrassing as it was to have her nipples sticking out for all to see, she would just have to get through the day. Tomorrow, come hell or high water, she would get hold of some new, far less revealing, sportswear.


After a few minutes, Aunt Molly had them change posture. “Legs apart and bend forward. Try to place your hands on the ground, and one, two, thee, straighten up, arms above your head, and stretch up. That’s it. Try not to fall over Andrew. And Fiona, you can open your legs wider than that, I’m sure!”


As she leaned forward and looked through her open legs, Fiona spotted Uncle Archie leaning against the fence and checking out her ass! Horrified, she jumped up and placed her hands over her butt cheeks.


“What is it now Fiona?” Aunt Molly said.


Fiona nodded toward Uncle Archie. “Does he have to stand there and watch?”


“I think my brother is entitled to stand wherever he likes on his own land,” Aunt Molly said stiffly.


“B-But he’s looking at—” Fiona began.


“Looking at what?” Heather interrupted. “Mr. Finn, it’s not fair on us if she’s going to be disrupting this class every two minutes!”


“Aye, we’re all cold out here!” Douglas said. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get inside!”


Maurice frowned and said, “Fiona, I should remind you that as one of the executors of Edith Campbell’s estate, I have unconditional authority to determine whether any of the named heirs have broken the terms of the inheritance.”



“I’m afraid there are no more buts, Miss Campbell. Either you continue the class without any more interruptions, or I shall be forced to declare your behavior in violation of the conditions of the will.”


Fiona blinked at him in astonishment. He wasn’t exactly being hostile, but his suddenly official tone had caught her off guard. And his words were crystal clear—she was on her final strike! This was it then. She could walk right now, or carry on without any further protest.


“Well, Fiona?” Aunt Molly said. “Are we ready to continue?”


Making a mental note to locate her phone and call Mr. Ewing in New York as soon as possible, Fiona nodded curtly and got back into position.






Gordon watched contentedly as Fiona’s unfettered breasts bounced around inside the gray jumpsuit. The stretching exercises had been a delight to behold, and he hadn’t been required to use much of his filthy imagination to imagine her actually posing naked for him. Every subtle dip and curve of her slender body was clearly defined by the figure hugging garment, and thanks to the cool weather, the underdressed girl’s nipples had been standing to attention the whole time!


Now the kids were doing some aerobics to get the heart pumping, and the sight of Fiona’s lithe body jumping up and down was enough to also get Gordon’s blood rushing down to his dick! But as much as her trim figure aroused him, it was the look of embarrassment on her cute face that captivated him more. Her dark eyes flitted around constantly to see who was watching her, and of course, all of the men, young and old, as well as butch Aunt Molly, were taking every opportunity possible to ogle her.


There was still plenty of defiance to be seen in those intelligent eyes however, and the young lady had no doubt resolved to endure today’s indignities in order to fight another day. If she was the gold digger they thought she was, then she was probably prepared to put up with much more than this if it meant claiming her share of the endowment. Unfortunately for her, if Maurice’s additional evidence came through, then not only would the money not be forthcoming, but her debasement would escalate dramatically!


As Aunt Molly began teaching the group a few basic dance steps, Gordon sidled over to Uncle Archie. “She seems to be settling down, does she not?’


“Well, money is a great motivator,” Uncle Archie said. “But do you see the fire in her eyes?”


“Indeed I do,” Gordon said. “Her spirit’s going to take some breaking, I fancy.”


“There’s the sport of it,” Uncle Archie said. “I would expect nothing less.” He tore his eyes away from Fiona and grinned at Gordon. “I’m guessing you’ve already got plenty of ideas for her once Maurice gives us the green light.”


Gordon gazed fondly at the exposed lower halves of Fiona’s firm buttocks as she flexed her calves in time to Aunt Molly’s beat. “Oh, aye. By the time I’m done with her, the poor lass will have wished she’d never left New York—if she even remembers it, that is. Because by then her whole world will have become the Isle of Brae, and her only purpose in life will be to serve, obey, and entertain!”






No signal.




Fiona threw her smartphone onto the beside table and drew the blankets up to her neck. It was colder than her first night in this pokey bedroom, and without central heating the only way to keep warm was to stay under the covers. Her fingers and toes were still slightly numb from the morning’s exercises out in the paddock, even after a hot soak in the ancient bathtub downstairs. That had been an unnerving experience knowing that creepy Uncle Archie was also sleeping under the same roof, but she had worked up quite a sweat during the day and couldn’t bring herself to go bed unwashed.


She extricated her right arm from the blanket and retrieved her phone again. Under the covers, she played with the settings for the tenth time that night. She didn’t understand why there was no signal, because she had paid for international roaming. There could have been any number of explanations she guessed, but after the series of unfortunate events that had befallen her since her arrival, she couldn’t help wondering if there wasn’t some kind of a plot being formed against her. Maybe Elizabeth and Gordon had sabotaged her phone after finding it the previous day. Maybe they had also stolen her sports clothes, and maybe Aunt Molly did have more appropriate clothing to lend her but had chosen not to. Maybe all of these mishaps weren’t accidental. After all, the more difficult her life here became, the greater the likelihood she would go home—without her share of the money.


But it hadn’t just been the Campbells who appeared to be conspiring against her. That weaselly little lawyer Maurice Finn hadn’t lifted a finger to help her with anything so far. And when she had gone down to the harbor after dance training, she had been informed that the next ferry to the mainland would leave at eight in the morning—precisely when tomorrow’s class was due to begin!


I just need to buy some clothes in town, can I charter a boat this evening? All the fishing boats are already out, Miss. Are there any sports or clothing shops anywhere on the island then? No, Miss. Does anybody have any spare or second hand sweats I could loan or even buy? I can’t think of anyone offhand, Miss. All of these island people were the same, polite but dour and totally useless!


Still holding her equally useless phone, Fiona yawned and closed her eyes. It had turned into quite a workout that morning, and along with the sea air and the remains of her jet lag, she was suddenly feeling pretty beat. Images of the day’s events filled her head as she drifted off—Heather’s arrogant smirk, the pathetically excited faces of Andrew and Douglas as they took every opportunity to steal a glance in her direction whenever they thought she wasn’t looking, Uncle Archie’s bug eyes as he leered at her every move, and then the stern expressions of Gordon and Elizabeth who had remained with Maurice to witness the entire class.


She needed to think about this entire bizarre situation, but it would have to wait until morning because right now she was too tired and she really needed to sleep—






“Good morning, Fiona! Time to get up! You know the drill by now—ablutions in the bathroom, down to the kitchen for some milk and bran, and then all present and correct in the paddock by eight!”


“Oh, please fuck off!” Fiona groaned quietly into her pillow. This was only the second morning and she was already sick of the sound of this unfeminine Scotswoman!


“Here, I’ve managed to find you a new outfit for today while your other one is in the wash. See you downstairs!” Aunt Molly said, as something landed on top of the blanket. When she heard the door close, Fiona sat up and looked at the pile of clothes. After the revealing jumpsuit she had been compelled to wear the previous day, she doubted if this one could be any worse—or could it? She held up what appeared to be a navy blue leotard with white trim, adorned with two rows of white buttons running down the front.


What the hell is this? It looks like a stripper’s version of a sailor suit!


Laying it aside with distaste, she regarded the rest of the ensemble which consisted of a rather short white skirt, a pair of knee length white socks, and a white beret with a silk red ribbon sewn into one side! Aghast, Fiona slid out of bed, and saw that her Nike running shoes had been replaced by an ugly black pair of soft leather, open toe, dancing shoes! With a sinking heart, she held the suit up against her body and looked in the mirror and immediately saw that it was slightly too small for even her petite frame.


I can’t go out there in this get up! I’ll look ridiculous!


But now she was slowly beginning to understand that was the whole idea. Of course Aunt Molly could find her suitable clothes if she wanted to. These absurd items had been specially selected to humiliate her and make her quit!


Well, screw them all! I made it through yesterday and I’ll make it through today! I haven’t come all this way just to let them win. We’ll see who’s laughing when I claim my money in a few weeks time!


She pulled off her shirt, and keeping her overnight panties on, stepped into the leg holes of the leotard. After a frantic minute of struggling, she realized to her dismay that she would have to take her panties off if she was ever going to get into this stupid garment. With the clock ticking, she slipped out of her panties and tried again. It was a tight fit, but with a bit of tugging and wriggling, she manged to squeeze into the leotard and then pull the straps over her shoulders. She turned again toward the mirror and let out a groan of dismay. The suit had been cut in such a way as to push her breasts up into the low cut cleavage, while down below, the gusset pulled snugly up into her crotch! It was no more revealing than the skintight jumpsuit, she guessed, but the almost comical pseudo-sailor design made her feel somehow more exposed. Then she swiveled and winced inwardly—the gusset was also stretched deeply between her buttocks! She tried pulling it out but it was so tight that it immediately sank back into her anal cleft.


Having mentally crossed the Rubicon, Fiona sighed and wrapped the skirt around her waist and secured it. It was ridiculously short, of course, but it provided her with at least some cover down there. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on the knee length white socks, and then after lacing up the unsightly dance shoes, she perched the beret on her head and looked forlornly at herself in the mirror. At least only these rubes who would get to see her like this, she reasoned, and with another despondent sigh, she gave the uncomfortable gusset a final downward tug before making her way down to the kitchen.


Aunt Molly looked up from her newspaper, and Fiona could have sworn she detected the woman’s lips quivering in amusement. “Ah, there you are. I see the hornpipe costume fits.”


“It does not fit!” Fiona said, shifting awkwardly in the doorway. “It must have belonged to a young teenager!”


“Actually it did. This was Heather’s outfit when she was about fourteen years old, I think.”


“What? I’m wearing one of Heather’s cast-offs?”


“Well, you were making such a fuss about your clothes yesterday, I had to try and find something for you, and Elizabeth was kind enough to have a look around in Heather’s old bedroom.”


I’ll bet she was!


“But couldn’t you have found me a regular sweat suit?”


“I’m afraid that’s all Elizabeth could find for you, young lady. I thought you would have been grateful. It’s not our fault you lost your clothes at the airport, is it?”


Fiona glared at Aunt Molly but bit her lip. She was now more convinced than ever that her bags had been ransacked by the Campbells while she was asleep. And the more she thought about it, why had she slept so long? Everything had happened so quickly since her arrival here at Glenincree that she hadn’t been given sufficient time to connect the dots. Now that she was almost certain that she was the victim of a family conspiracy to thwart her claim to her share of the money, her streetwise instincts kicked in and she decided to play dumb.


“I guess not.”


“Come and have some breakfast,” Aunt Molly said. “You’re going to need all your strength again today.”


Oh yes, I’m sure I am, Fiona thought as she poured out a glass of milk. And I think I’m also going to need every ounce of my grit and determination if I’m ever going to leave this godforsaken island with my money!






Chapter Five


Gordon said to Uncle Archie, “Would you mind filming the class this morning? Maurice will be along in a little while.”


“Aye, no problem,” Uncle Archie took the video camera. “What’s keeping Maurice?”


“Well, if God is smiling upon us, I believe that as we speak he is collecting the final proof we have been waiting for.”


“Fingers crossed,” Uncle Archie said, holding the camera up to his eyes. Then he broke into a broad grin. “Oh, my! And I believe I’m getting a stiffy already!”


Gordon followed his line of vision and drew a sharp breath as he immediately recognized the delightful outfit Fiona was wearing. He had purchased the cute and rather sexy Sailor’s Hornpipe costume for Heather some five or six years ago for a junior event she had entered. It was, he had to admit, a rather risque, and some would say unhealthy choice of attire for a man’s own teenage daughter, and even the broad minded Elizabeth had raised an eyebrow. As it had turned out, Gordon evidently hadn’t been the only male on the island with unsavory carnal appetites, because his daughter had won a prize despite being a below par dancer!


Gordon’s cock swiftly hardened as the shamefaced American girl made her way haltingly toward her more suitably dressed peers. Although her costume wasn’t indecent per se, it was apparent even from this distance that the blue leotard was way to small even for wee Fiona! Her breasts were bunched up together most enticingly, and although her nether regions were protected by the white miniskirt, he could imagine how snug everything must be under there! He caught Elizabeth’s eye and she gave him a mischievous smile. Ah yes, what a lucky man he was to have such an accommodating and resourceful wife!


As Fiona took up her position in the middle of the paddock, Gordon studied the reactions of his kids with curiosity. Heather merely tittered with her hand over her mouth, obviously recalling the self-consciousness she must have felt when she had been forced to don the same belittling outfit all those years before. Of more interest to him were the delighted expressions on the faces of his two sons, and he was certain that underneath their baggy tracksuit pants, both lads would already be sporting sizable boners!


“Is everybody ready?” Aunt Molly said. “We’ll start with some warm up stretching exercises again, but this morning I want to move quickly on to more of the dance steps we started yesterday. We don’t have much time before the competition, so this is going to be nothing more than a crash course. Okay, off we go! Touch toes, legs straight, palms flat, all the way down, and one, and two—”


While the rest of the dance class bent forward, Fiona peered anxiously over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was lecherous Uncle Archie positioned directly behind her—only this time he was recording the proceedings on a videocam! She opened her mouth in protest, but seeing that Maurice was absent she reluctantly swiveled around and made a halfhearted attempt at touching her toes. Her fingers barely dropped below her knees, but her short skirt still rode up high enough for Gordon to catch a glimpse of her tight little bum cheeks either side of the thin blue gusset that rode high up into her crotch!


Fiona was obviously painfully aware of the vulgar sight she was presenting to them, because on her next forward bend she kept one arm behind her with the back of her hand covering her great divide. Standing to her right, young Andrew looked at Fiona’s firm buns and exclaimed, “Aunt Molly, Fiona’s doing it wrong again!”


Aunt Molly looked up and shook her head. “I don’t know, Fiona. I’ve asked you nicely, but you seem determined to cheat, don’t you? I suppose I’ll just have to talk to Maurice about this when he arrives.”


“That’s not fair!” Fiona suddenly snapped. “Everybody else is dressed in warm sweatsuits. Why am I the only one who is—exposed like this?”


“We’ve been over this,” Aunt Molly said wearily. “You’re responsible for your own belongings—”


“That’s total bullshit and you know it!” Fiona said. “Somebody stole my clothes while I was drugged!”


Everybody stared at her and Aunt Molly said, “Fiona, why would you even say something like that?”


“Oh, please! I know what you’re trying to do! You want me to go home and give up my share of the money, don’t you? Well, it won’t work! I’m from New York and I’m tougher and smarter than all of you dumb hicks and—”


The sound of a car engine stopped her and they all turned to watch Maurice Finn’s little white car winding up the road.


Now then, Gordon thought. The moment of truth has arrived.


“You were saying?” Elizabeth said frostily.


Fiona blinked at her.


“Something about dumb hicks,” Heather prompted.


“I-I—” Fiona suddenly seemed less sure of herself. Had she realized that as an impostor, she might just have jumped the gun? Or had she sensed that Maurice’s late arrival might be of some significance? Maurice’s car came to a halt and the diminutive solicitor ambled up the pathway toward the paddock. He appeared to be in no hurry and had an air of confidence about him that sent a pulse of excited anticipation through Gordon.


“Morning all,” Maurice said as he entered the paddock. “Everything alright?”


“Fiona’s refusing to train again,” Aunt Molly said.


“Oh dear, what’s the problem this time?”


“Her costume. She doesn’t like it.”


Maurice appraised the comical yet titillating outfit, and to Gordon’s surprise and delight, he chuckled. “Aye, it does look rather ridiculous!”


Fiona gaped at him, and at that moment, as if to underline his comment, a swift breeze lifted her short skirt, exposing her bare buttocks to everyone. Andrew and Douglas giggled and Maurice said, “But beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. If Fiona wants to stay in the competition, she’ll just have to make do with what Aunt Molly can find for her.”


Maurice’s condescending tone was most out of character, and now Gordon was more certain than ever that the little man was onto something. Fiona too, looked taken aback, but to her credit she dug deep and said, “Mr. Finn, if you won’t help me, I will have no choice but to contact my attorney in New York. I know you are only working as a proxy for Great Aunt Edith’s lawyers in Edinburgh, and from now on, I will be dealing directly with them.”


With that, she turned tail and marched off toward the farmhouse and Gordon felt a flutter of panic in his belly. “Can she do that?”


Maurice winked at him and called out, “Fiona! I really think you should reconsider!”


Fiona paused, but without turning she continued her retreat, albeit a little slower. Right then, Gordon understood that she was bluffing. She wouldn’t be contacting her lawyer or anyone else. She knew that the game was up and all she wanted to do now was get off the island and back home to New York.


“Is she really going?” asked Douglas.


“Let her,” Heather said. “All the more money for us.”


Maurice allowed Fiona to get to the back door of the farmhouse but as she reached for the door handle, he shouted out, “Miss Perry!”


Fiona froze and then slowly turned around. The look of horror on her face was all that Gordon needed to see.


“Yes, Miss Perry, you heard your name correctly,” Maurice said. “If you leave now, you’ll be making the biggest mistake of your life!”






“W-Where did you find all of this?” Fiona said as she stared in shock at Mr. Finn’s iPad on the wooden garden table.


“It wasn’t that difficult in this technological age,” Mr. Finn said smugly. “After a little bit of research, I made contact with a credit card fraud detective that has been on your trail for some time now.” He scrolled down the screen with his fingertip, and added, “You’ve been a very busy girl for one so young.”


Fiona’s tummy did a flip as she saw each investigation rolling up the screen, remembering in detail each one of them from planning to execution. She had been so meticulous, so careful to cover her tracks, how did this guy manage to get onto her? Not that it mattered right now, but she had to ask, “How did you—?”


“Oh, we smelled a rat from the very beginning,” Mr. Finn said. “Particularly with all that money involved—and we Scotsmen are very careful when it comes to money. Once we found your real passport and identification cards, it confirmed you were a scam artist so then it was just a question of collecting more evidence against you.”


Fiona could feel the Campbell clan literally breathing down her neck, and she was starting to feel claustrophobic. There was something going on here that she didn’t quite understand. Since Mr. Finn had already collected all this indisputable proof against her, why hadn’t he arrived here with the police? Perhaps they had already decided that they would let her go and were merely savoring their moment of victory. Buoyed by this possibility, Fiona said, “So what happens now?”


Her answer didn’t come from Mr. Finn, but from Gordon Campbell, who had seated himself at the other end of the table. “Well, Fiona, that is entirely up to you.”


Fiona frowned. “I don’t understand.”


“It’s a simple choice,” Gordon said. “Mr. Finn here can call the police now and you will be arrested and deported back to America where the authorities will be waiting to take you into custody. Given your surprisingly long list of previous fraudulent crimes, I would imagine you will be looking at a very long stay in a Federal penitentiary. Am I correct, Maurice?”


“Oh, yes,” Mr. Finn said. “I wouldn’t like to guess how long you are likely to serve, but safe to say that by the time you come out, the best years of your life will be well behind you.”


Fiona felt her mouth go dry. She had never considered the possibility of doing jail time, and now the thought of it chilled her to the bone. “Or?” she said.


“Or, you continue with your dance training as arranged,” Gordon said.


Fiona stared at him. “I don’t get it.”


“It’s quite simple. We keep quiet about your foolishly conceived plan and you stay here on the farm and carry on with your dance studies.”


“What about the private detective in New York?” Fiona said.


“I’ve already come to a suitable financial arrangement with him to drop his investigation,” Mr. Finn said. “After all, there will be plenty of money available in a few weeks time, as you are well aware.”


“But why do you want me to continue with the dancing lessons?” Fiona said. “If you’re not going to call the cops, why don’t you just let me go?”


“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Mr. Finn said. “As far as the lawyers in Edinburgh and your attorney in New York are aware, the real Fiona Campbell is here to claim her share of the money. If we turn you in however, Fiona doesn’t get to go through with the dance competition so her portion of the inheritance will be withheld and dispersed elsewhere.”


“Meaning that we lose over a quarter of a million pounds,” Gordon said. “So we need you to fulfill your obligations, after which you will accompany your cousins to Edinburgh and collect that which is rightfully yours.”


“After which we immediately take you to the nearest bank where you will deposit the entire amount into our family bank account,” Elizabeth concluded.


Fiona quickly processed this, and said, “And after that, I’m free to go?”


“Well, there is something else,” said Gordon, clearing his throat. “My family and I are not entirely happy with the way you just waltzed in here expecting to make fools out of us.”


Fiona looked around at the Campbell clan with a sudden sense of foreboding.


“If you decide to take up our offer, there will be certain rules to follow,” Gordon went on.


Fiona swallowed. “Rules?”


“Aye, rules. From now on, you will follow all instructions to the letter, without complaint or hesitation. You have broken the law, but if you wish to avoid jail you will accept your punishment here with us. And remember, we have the prerogative to turn you over to the authorities at any time.”


But you’ll lose three hundred and fifty thousand dollars if you do, Fiona thought.


Reading her mind, Elizabeth said, “Bear in mind that you have a lot more to lose than we do. As painful as it might be, we’ll survive with just three quarters of the money—but could you endure losing your most youthful years in prison?”


Fiona took a breath and said, “So I complete the training and the competition, collect the money and hand it over to you, and you let me return to the States a free person?”


Mr. Finn said. “Provided you meet the conditions of the will, and the Campbells are satisfied that you have learned your lesson, we have a deal.”


Fiona realized she was trapped. Nobody back home would come looking for her. The few social acquaintances she had didn’t even know where she was. She had been so confident of her abilities that she had become reckless. She looked around at the Campbell clan and to her dismay she realized that for now at least, she belonged to them all.


“So what’s it to be?” said Gordon. “Are you going back to class? Or do we call the police?”

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