A Stern Lord for My Lady Page 7

  “How do you feel, my lord?” she asked tentatively.

  “I dreamt I’d died and gone to Heaven,” he told her with that smile which made him look even comelier than he already was.

  “Don’t blaspheme,” she chided with a smile of her own, further wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He caressed the seam of her lips, which were still red and slightly swollen from her earlier ministrations.

  “You’ve behaved like a dutiful wife,” he told her approvingly.

  She laughed, still tasting his essence upon her tongue, and revelling in the salty taste of it.

  “Dutiful wives get rewards,” he told her, now stroking the side of her neck. “So, what does your heart desire, wife?”

  She sighed, knowing it was already late, and also knowing he had his business at Court to attend to. Soon, she’d be similarly tethered to the court, since she knew Queen Eleanor expected her to come to attendance next week.

  “The sun has long been up, and the bell has tolled eight. Do you have time to dispense rewards, husband?” she asked him pointedly, cocking en eyebrow.

  He groaned, then chided her.

  “You should have woken me sooner!”

  She gestured to the garments that had already been laid out for him, readied.

  “You have time enough for dressing and for breaking your fast.”

  Still, he chided her.

  “You should have woken me sooner!” he muttered with a frown. “If you’d woken me sooner, there’d have been time for more than dressing and breaking fast!”

  At first she had indeed thought of waking him sooner, but he’d seemed to be sleeping so peacefully and she hadn’t had the heart to do it. He didn’t look like a fiend in his sleep, and, for that matter, nor did he look like an angel. He just looked, well, as her husband should, a comely man sleeping where he truly belonged – in her bed.

  He sighed, straightening a tendril of her hair that had come loose, and gently brushing her cheek as he did so.

  “No use crying over spilt milk now, I guess. There will be plenty of time for rewards when I get back,” he said with that comely smile of his.

  She frowned upon him, suddenly perceiving she’d miss him today. She hadn’t thought she’d ever miss a man’s presence. She’d always thought of men as rather useless. This one seemed to have his uses though. But she chastised herself for the silly way she’d already begun to moon over him. What had he said earlier?

  “You said dutiful wives get rewards,” she told him with a frown. “Does that mean undutiful wives get punishments?”

  The next move he made stunned her. He swiftly sat up, taking hold of her and placing her over his lap, without giving her time to struggle or protest.

  “Naughty wives certainly get punishments,” he said cheerfully, laying a couple of spanks on her upturned rump.

  Alicia braced herself for the searing caress of his hand upon her bottom, her heart thumping in strange anticipation. They were light, playful spanks though, just teasing, and holding only the faint promise of a fiery sting. He soon released her, and she saw he was grinning broadly. She keenly felt that stab of pleasure in her sheath, recalling the peculiar stirring she’d experienced right after he’d spanked her. Pleasure mingling with pain. Shameful, yet excruciatingly delicious.

  Naughty wives get punishments – he’d said in jest. But what did naughty mean? And did she truly want to be naughty?

  She watched him rise, with a look of deep regret on his face.

  “Alas, I cannot linger and play, wife. The dreary Court awaits…”

  She nodded, knowing they both had pressing chores today.

  It was perhaps two hours later that Alicia received a visit from Master Reed’s wife, to talk upon the price that the master smith required for his services. Alicia soon came to see, with a suppressed smile, that Mistress Reed was an astute woman and liked to drive a hard bargain. So they haggled over the price for a good while, taking each other’s measure, until it was time for the two of them to burst out laughing. They’d reached a figure that was acceptable to both of them, but it had taken a long while for them to be able to do so.

  “I must say, Mistress,” Alicia said shaking her head with a smile. “Your husband erred when he told me you’d be easy to bargain with today. You haggle something fierce.”

  “Well, so do you for that matter, my lady,” Mistress Reed retorted with a smile of her own.

  Alicia had already come to like the master smith’s wife, because she’d always been fond of plainspoken, decisive women. Yet she could not reconcile the image of this woman with that of the chastened, subdued wife who’d received a harsh punishment with a switch from her husband. Mistress Reed must have seen Alicia’s curious glance, because she smiled self-consciously.

  “I will be off now, my lady…” she said with a slight bow of her head.

  Yet Alicia could no longer contain her curiosity. Besides, she had to make sure Mistress Reed was fine and did not have a husband who treated her ill.

  “Your husband… Master Reed. He seems a harsh man,” she said cautiously.

  Mistress Reed burst out laughing with a shake of her head.

  “Nay, milady. He is usually mild as a lamb, and a hard worker. He spends all his time at his forge and dreams only of smithing and clever contraptions all day long.”

  Alicia could not reconcile what Mistress Reed had spoken about with the image of the stern man whipping his wife’s bare bottom with the switch.

  “But…”

  Mistress Reed sighed.

  “You saw what you saw and, aye, he chastened me well yesterday, but it’s upon a rare occasion that he does so, and, truth be told, I did everything in my power to drive him out of his mind…”

  Alicia widened her eyes, and Mistress Reed went on with a broad grin.

  “As I said, my husband is a hard worker. Sometimes he works too hard, as if work was his mistress… He sees to his craft, and I see to the running and the numbers of the business. But sometimes wicked thoughts come into my head and I think my man should pay more mind to love play with me than to his hard work. You see, this man of mine is not easily riled by my temper, which is something fierce. There’s one thing he hates though – when I exchange playful words or hot glances with other men.”

  Alicia’s eyes got even wider.

  “So what you’re saying is you like to make him jealous?! In order to get him to punish you?”

  Mistress Reed nodded with a smile and a shrug.

  “But why?” Alicia asked, although she recalled only too well the image of the punishment had stirred strange, shameful sensations inside her.

  Mistress Reed coloured slightly, but then heaved a sigh and decided to speak.

  “My lady, the switch he wields at times stings something fierce, and there is pain in the punishment, yet, for me, there is also strange pleasure. There is no lasting harm from my husband’s chastisement, as he would rather cut off his right arm than hurt me in earnest. He would not ever say so, but I know he also enjoys the punishments I goad him to deliver at times, understanding within himself that I behave the way I do just to taunt him. You see, there is a closeness we both enjoy that this punishment brings. A strange bond which makes our love burn even fiercer. Besides, our loving between the sheets afterwards is simply wondrous... more wondrous than anything in this world.”

  Mistress Reed suddenly paused as if at last aware that she’d shared too much with a stranger, yet she cast Alicia a measuring glance. Then added with a wicked smile, “My lady, I see by the look in your eyes you know what I’m talking about. I saw your husband at times walking around the market. He is a handsome man, is he not? Has he already proven a stern husband?”

  It was Alicia’s turn to look flustered. She cleared her throat, not wanting to lie to a woman who’d already shared intimate things with her.

  “He… well… he did chastise me soundly in front of the entire Court. The punishment…”

  She was h
owever unable to continue and glanced helplessly at Mistress Reed who gave her a mischievous wink.

  “I understand you’re newly married. So you’ll both have time to sort out how the married discipline takes place…” Mistress Reed then added with a laugh, “Though I confess my bottom does smart something fierce this morning, after Tom took good care of it yesterday. He does not want to let it show, but he’s already feeling somewhat guilty and fretting upon me today, to let me know how caring and sweet-tempered he can be.”

  Alicia laughed in her turn.

  “Why, Master Reed swore to me the spanking would make you sweet-tempered.”

  Mistress Reed gave a mock frown.

  “He wishes!” she proclaimed, and soon after that took her leave, promising she would visit again to oversee how things were going when her husband’s apprentices came to take measurements for the ironwork that was needed.

  Alicia told Mistress Reed she was looking forward to new visits from her, and hoped they would form a friendship. By the way Mistress Reed responded she was pleased that a noble lady was taking interest in her, but Alicia had never thought herself truly above hard-working people like Master and Mistress Reed. She’d always thought such people were often cleverer than her own peers.

  The rest of her day kept her busy, yet she could not help but recall the strange, stirring conversation she’d had with Mistress Reed. She found herself blushing upon thinking of the way the blacksmith had wielded the switch upon his wife’s bottom, and strived hard to put the image away from her mind. The image lingered with her though, and she found herself wondering what it would feel like to have a merciless switch striping her skin, while she was lying defenceless and her husband was brandishing it with vigour. She shook her head in wonder realizing she both dreaded the switch and felt strangely stirred by the prospect of it.

  Chapter 8

  Bertran spent his day thinking only of the moment he would return to his wife and finish what they’d started this morning. He felt loath to dance attendance to Henry, who seemed to be keeping him at Court for naught. Bertran already felt weary of the court, and looked forward to the day when he and his wife would rejoin one of their estates, to spend their time away from the hustle and bustle of London.

  Midday repast still found him thinking of his wife, and of her sweet lips upon his cock. She was no shy, blushing woman and she’d brought him great pleasure. He thought upon his match with satisfaction – at least in the bedchamber, things would be always to his liking. And, in truth, so far he’d nothing to reproach his wife for even outside the bedchamber. She’d not behaved like the proud, disdainful woman he’d thought she was. Besides, he’d expected her to hold a grudge for the humiliation he’d bestowed on her in front of the whole court, but she didn’t seem angered against him anymore. He’d already perceived she was clever, so he assumed that, like him, she saw it was wiser to try to make the best of their marriage and attempt to be gracious to one another, since nothing could be changed. Or perhaps it was just as his parents had told him – the sound spanking he’d delivered had subdued her and had made her see him as the strong, decisive man he was.

  His friends started teasing him good-naturedly, when they noted his absent-mindedness.

  “No doubt thinking of the new bride he left at home…” Lord Vipont said cheerfully.

  “Perhaps he’s thinking of further chastisement to bestow upon the comely lady,” Sir Simon added, with a wink.

  His friends then made a show of proclaiming their wives had been on their best, sweetest behaviour since they’d witnessed Lady Alicia’s punishment. They went on to commend Bertran for his disciplining skills.

  “I daresay, unlike your late wife, who was tame and meek, this new lady of yours will give you plenty of occasion to display your skills and set her bottom ablaze,” Sir Simon said.

  Bertran said nothing, just smiling benevolently. His friends were mischievous, but for all their bragging and teasing, they were never harsh to their wives, and, to his knowledge, employed but mild discipline on their women.

  “Wilful women are usually lusty in the bedchamber,” Vipont quipped. “By the dreamy look on our friend’s face this morn, the bride may be not as reluctant as we thought.”

  Both Simon and Vipont went on with their teasing, but Bertran remained silent, since he’d always been a private man and had always thought the things that took place in the bedchamber should stay in the bedchamber. He bore his friends’ teasing with good humour, however noting the other lord knight who’d joined them, Tristram de Brunne, sat silent and rather forlorn, with brooding dark eyes. Bertran exchanged a look with his other friends, knowing that De Brunne was probably thinking of his own wife, the Northern lady he’d wed two years ago, who, it was well known, treated her husband with coldness and disdain. De Brunne and his wife were presently estranged from one another, and Bertran thought, so far, luck had smiled upon his own fate. Lady Alicia may not have wished him to marry her, but she seemed more than willing to spend time in his arms.

  “Don’t brood, Tristram,” Simon said, touching his friend’s shoulder.

  “I’m not brooding,” De Brunne muttered. “I’m thinking. I’m thinking I was wrong not to consider my lady wife may benefit from a lesson not very unlike the one Bertran’s new wife has received of late.”

  Sir Simon and Lord Vipont heartily encouraged De Brunne that this was the right way of thinking, while Bertran rose with a smile, to go about his business. He meant to leave Court earlier today, to be able to come home earlier to his new wife, so he had no time to waste. Henry had bid him to go and deliver a message to the queen, as both monarchs now conversed mostly through their attendants, rather than talk face to face. Bertran suppressed a sigh, knowing the strife between the king and queen would lead to nothing good. Yet he was bound to obey his liege’s request, and he went to the queen’s quarters, to wait for Eleanor to deign to speak to him. He paused a little before he entered those quarters to straighten his cloak, which seemed to have come into disarray as he’d gone up the stairs. The door to the queen’s quarters was slightly ajar and voices could be heard from behind it, the voices of Queen Eleanor’s ladies.

  “Poor Lady Alicia,” one of the ladies was saying with feeling.

  “Oh, poor Lady Alicia,” another harrumphed. “Better say, poor Sir Bertran… Everyone knows she still carries a torch for De Jarnac’s son.”

  Bertran stood still, with an icy feeling in his heart. The lady, whose voice he now recognised as Lady Edith’s, went on with a sigh.

  “I hope, for both their sakes that Lady Alicia will behave like a good and sensible woman, and put aside her foolish passion for Sir Erec. But who knows what she’ll do. I’m told that one is a woman as devious as she is haughty. Perhaps she’ll decide to keep De Jarnac as her lover. From what I could see when I entered their bedchamber, FitzRolf already seemed ensnared by her and she’ll be able to twist him around her little finger.”

  At this moment, Queen Eleanor spoke sharply, urging the lady to keep her gossip to herself, and Bertran decided to make his presence known. Surely, Lady Edith was just a busybody, and one shouldn’t set great store on her words. Yet, after he’d conferred with the queen, he couldn’t shake a feeling of unease that stayed with him all day. There was a fire burning between Lady Alicia’s legs. What if that fire burned harder for De Jarnac than for him? And what could he do if his wife still carried a torch for De Jarnac? Should he put a mighty fire on her bottom if he caught her as much as glancing at her former suitor? He reasoned he could punish his wife if she behaved unseemly and flaunted herself to De Jarnac, but he could do nothing if she only thought of the man. Unseemly thoughts were not the same as unseemly deeds, were they? What if De Jarnac would always have her heart, without even possessing her body? What then?

  The evening found him cross and loath to rejoin his home, although all morning he’d been thinking only of coming home to his bride. He lingered in the yard of his house for a while, leaning against the trunk
of an apple tree. Unwittingly, his eyes fell upon the branches and twigs of the tree, and he recalled well that an apple tree switch had been employed at times for his own discipline as a child. He reasoned he needed to let his new wife know he would not stand for her to take a lover. He would plainly let her know he intended to discipline her harshly if she meant to be disloyal to him. So he cut a good switch, meaning to show it to his wife and tell her it would be used for future chastisements if the need ever arose. He hoped the mere threat of it would dissuade her from thinking of the handsome Erec de Jarnac ever again.

  When he entered their bedchamber, he found Alicia had been waiting for him and she cast him an eager smile. Her smile faded when she saw what he’d been carrying in his hand, and Bertran suddenly felt like a brute. Of course, it was his right to chastise his wife, and a time may come when he might have to do so, but, since they’d wed, Lady Alicia had done nothing to deserve a punishment. She had not strayed yet, and it was unfair to assume she ever would. He now felt stupid and awkward, standing there, switch in hand. He hastily placed the switch in a corner, by the door, for his wife to see he had no intention of using it.

  His lady was now looking upon him with a stormy look in her green eyes, yet she spoke courteously.

  “I’ve waited upon you, my lord. I’ll call the serving girls to bring trays, as it is now too late for a repast in the solar.”

  He nodded, in some embarrassment. The next hour passed in near silence. Alicia sat by him, graciously, as he had his meal, and later, when it was time for his bath, she attended to him just as the lady of the house should. Yet she flinched from him when he attempted to touch her, and he did not press, seeing the anger in her gaze.

  From time to time, her eyes kept darting to the switch that remained in its corner. Bertran knew once he’d placed it there, it should remain there, until it was time to use it. He would look like a fool if he simply tossed it away. He sighed, thinking perhaps he’d not been that wrong in his first thought. The threat of the switch would make his wife think twice about straying. He would not be a blind, complacent husband, as Lady Edith had implied – and he meant his new wife to see this from the very start of their marriage.