Alistair twirled the knife in his hands as he leaned against his new prize.  "Oh, Martha, you're such a killjoy! I was just about to open up my present.  Who cares if she smells like a street urchin when her body looks this good!"  He landed his face in her breasts and nuzzled her.<br/><br/>He gave a melodramatic sigh.  "Alright, Boy!"  he waved over to one of the footman.  "Very well.   Clean her, but do not let my brother near her!  I want to be the fist to pluck her."  He stood and watched as the man carried her upstairs, tapping his chin with the knife.