Seducing His Sassenach

by Ashe Barker

  “Y-you should not be looking at me,” she squeaked.

  He chuckled, already swinging his belt to test the weight. “No, I expect ye’re right. But I shall do so anyway. Are ye ready, Jane?”

  No!

  “Yes. Just... get on with it.”

  In the next instant, the terrifying swish of flying leather split the air, a moment before pain exploded across her buttocks.

  Jane let out a scream and started to straighten up.

  “Do not move,” he commanded in a tone to brook no argument. “Unless ye want me tae start over.”

  Jane gulped in deep lungfuls of air and fought to absorb the agony. She danced from one foot to the other, and after a few seconds the fire did indeed cool somewhat.

  The belt swung again, and fresh tendrils of flame wrapped themselves around her upturned, unprotected bottom.

  She screamed again, could not help it, but this time she managed to keep still. Panting, she curled her fists around the folds of the cloak and clung on.

  He delivered another stroke, and another. Each one unleashed fresh rivulets of fiery torment across her blazing skin, but the shock was less somehow. Maybe she was becoming accustomed to it...?

  The Scot adjusted his stance and swung again. Now he concentrated on striking first one buttock, then the other. Jane tried to count the strokes but soon abandoned that effort. It was all she could do to breathe through this. She was gasping and sobbing into the thick fabric of the cloak when he halted.

  “That was the tenth stroke. Halfway,” he informed her.

  Only half? Dear Lord...

  “Are you all right, Janie? If ye need me tae stop for a short while, I will.”

  Even as she considered the blessed prospect of a break in these proceedings, Jane knew that would not do. She needed this to be over.

  “I... I am fine,” she managed to whimper.

  “You wish tae continue?”

  “Not really...”

  “Jane?” He laid his palm on her smarting buttock. She let out a sharp shriek, but he ignored her. He squeezed her throbbing globe as though he could press the pain more thoroughly into her flesh. “Ye’re takin’ your punishment well, girl. Your bottom is glowing quite beautifully...” He caressed the other cheek by way of demonstrating. “This hurts ye, does it no’?”

  “Yes,” she ground out.

  “Good. I want ye tae remember this moment, the way this feels, the next time ye’re tempted tae go your own way rather than do as I tell ye. Will ye remember, d’ye think?”

  She would. Jane entertained not the slightest shred of doubt. “Yes. I shall not forget.”

  He appeared to be considering. At last, he answered, “Hmm, I think ye might not at that. Still, best tae make sure, eh? So now, after each stroke, ye will thank me and ask for the next, by way of assisting you in committing this entire experience tae memory.”

  “You expect me to thank you, for beating me?” Was the man quite deranged?

  “For teaching ye tae obey, Jane. I think you will agree, ‘tis an important lesson.”

  “I hate you...”

  “Aye, ye may think so, right at this moment.” He patted her throbbing bottom. “But can ye learn tae obey me? That is the thing here. Will twenty strokes be enough tae achieve that, d’ye think, or will it require even more?”

  “Twenty will be enough,” she blurted, desperate to avoid attracting yet more of his harsh discipline.

  “I am relieved that ye think so. Now, after each of the remaining ten strokes, ye will thank me for my trouble in teaching you and ask me for the next. Right, Janie?”

  “Yes,” she hissed. “I shall thank you.”

  He delivered another gentle pat to her buttock, then resumed his stance ready for the next stroke. Jane barely had a moment to brace herself before it fell.

  Again, she screamed. Was he laying his belt on even harder now? She danced about on the sack until the agony subsided, then held her breath as she waited for the next.

  “I cannae hear ye, Jane.”

  Bloody insufferable man!

  “Thank you for teaching me the lesson I need to learn. Please, would you let me have the next one.” If her tone was infused with a venomous sweetness, surely she could not be blamed for that?

  “Ye’re most welcome, pet.” He swung again, this time sending shards of pain across the backs of both her thighs.

  The shock took her breath away. It was several seconds before she managed to utter the words he needed to hear.

  “Thank you. The... the next one, please.”

  He obliged her, alternating between striking her bottom and her thighs, and with each stroke her belligerence grew more and more muted. This domineering Scot required contrition. He required to be convinced that she had learned her lesson. Jane had no intention of disappointing him and drawing down more of this fury.

  “I am sorry, sir. I truly am. Thank you for teaching me... Please, another...”

  Whoosh! Another explosion of liquid agony. “Thank you, again, please.”

  And so it went on. Eventually, she barely heard the words she uttered, needed only to reach the end of her ordeal. Even so, Jane was surprised when he dropped the belt on the ground and reached for his cloak. He draped that about her and pulled her upright.

  “That was the last one. We are done.”

  Done? Finished? Jane blinked, tried to make sense of his words. Without warning, her knees gave way and she started to crumple.

  Robbie caught her easily and swung her into his arms. He turned to sit on the back of the cart and held her against his chest.

  “Let me go,” she muttered.

  “I will, lass. Soon enough. Just, take a moment...”

  “I do not need—”

  “Shush.” He kissed her hair and used his fingers to sweep the tangles away from her face. “Twenty strokes is a lot for a wee thing like yourself. If ye feel like havin’ a good cry, I shall not mind.”

  “I am not crying,” she sniffed.

  “I see.” He wrapped his arms more tightly about her. “We shall just have a quiet moment here, then.”

  She tried. Jane tried most valiantly not to give in to the tears that threatened. She had been sobbing and weeping throughout her thrashing, but that had been different, a response to the pain. Just a way of coping. This was... something else. She needed to... to... stop fighting. She was seized with an overwhelming need to simply submit.

  The first sob escaped her. Then the next. In moments, she was curled up in the Scot’s arms, wailing like a baby. She grasped the front of his tunic and hung on. It was as though he was the only solid presence in a turbulent sea, and she might drown if she released her grip, simply sink without trace.

  Robbie made soft, soothing sounds, whispered words she barely heard and in a language Jane did not comprehend. But, he was there, and that was enough.

  She could not have said how long she huddled in his lap, weeping, but by the time she managed to stop sobbing and raise her gaze to meet his, it was fully dark.

  “I am keeping you from your supper,” she murmured.

  He grinned. “Is that your way o’ sayin’ that ye’re hungry, lass?”

  Her stomach gave an answering growl.

  “Are ye ready tae go an’ join the rest? I expect there will be some food left.”

  She nodded and he helped her down from the cart. Her legs were still a little unsteady, but they did at least hold her weight now. She gathered the English cloak about her. “I have no clothes.”

  “I know that, lass. Next time ye decide tae dance naked, ye will take care tae place your clothes where ye can find them after, I hope.”

  She managed a rueful smile. “I shall remember to do that. And perhaps I shall not be obliged to leave in quite such a hurry.”

  His grin widened. “I do most sincerely hope I am there tae witness it. Settin’ tae one side the obvious problems, it was indeed a fine sight.” He offered her his hand. “Come, I am sure we can find ye somethin’ t
ae wear.”

  “That will not be necessary.” Lady Falconer stepped into the derelict barn. She inclined her head at Robbie. “Did I hear you mention that you are hungry? Peggy has prepared a rather decent rabbit broth. I believe there is some left.”

  “My lady?” He offered her a bow but did not relinquish Jane’s hand.

  “Jane and I shall be along presently. Please, do not let us detain you any further.” The older woman raised her eyebrows and moved to the side to let him pass. She appeared to be not entirely certain why he was still there.

  “I shall be all right,” Jane assured him, though she did not feel as certain as she would have him believe. Still, if her employer had matters she wished to raise with her, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Lady Falconer would by now be perfectly familiar with the events outside the garrison and would have an opinion, no doubt. “I shall not be long. Save me some broth, if you please.”

  Robbie bowed to the pair of them, picked up his sword and belt from the ground, and left them together.

  Chapter Nine

  “How long... how long have you been there, my lady?”

  “Not very long,” Lady Falconer replied.

  “You... saw?”

  The older woman shook her head. “When I arrived, you were somewhat... indisposed. Mr. McGregor was comforting you.”

  “I see.”

  “But, I know perfectly well what has happened. Are you injured?”

  Jane shook her head. “No, my lady.”

  “But rather sore, I imagine.”

  Jane winced. “Very sore.” She reached to rub her punished buttocks.

  “He used his belt?”

  Jane nodded, and Lady Falconer winced. “Leather can be very cruel, though I have always considered it oddly stimulating, also.”

  Jane shook her head in bewilderment. “My lady, I do not follow...”

  Lady Falconer quirked her lip. “Really? Ah, well. I have some salve which may ease the sting a little. I shall let you have some. But first, we need to attend to the matter of your clothing. Or lack, thereof.”

  “Perhaps Peggy has a spare dress I could borrow...?” The maidservant was easily twice Jane’s size.

  “I can do better than that. Please, help me up, my dear.”

  With Jane’s assistance, Lady Falconer climbed into the cart and crouched beside her own travelling trunk. She unlocked it, then flung the lid back. “I am sure I saw Peggy packing this one... Ah, yes, here we are.” She pulled a bright crimson garment from the trunk and shook it out. “I believe this will fit you, more or less.”

  Jane stared, open-mouthed. Lady Falconer was holding up a beautiful red velvet riding gown. It was finer than any item of clothing Jane had ever owned and would have cost more than she could possibly earn in a year. Two years, even.

  “Here, take it. I will need to find you a shift to wear as well, of course.”

  Jane grabbed the dress when her employer thrust it at her, then could only watch in astonishment as Lady Falconer rummaged in the trunk again. This time she produced a delicate white cotton shift embroidered at the neck and cuffs in a pretty shade of yellow. “This may need to be taken in a little, but I am sure Peggy will be able to manage that. I am not much of a needlewoman myself, I am afraid. What about you, dear?”

  Jane just shook her head.

  “Mmm, I thought probably not. It will do for now, I expect, just until Peggy has a moment...” She reached back into her trunk and this time emerged with a small pot. She removed the lid and sniffed. “Aloe vera,” she said. “Very effective for bruising. Would you like me to help you...?”

  “Help me? You mean...?”

  “Well, it would be a little awkward for you to reach, perhaps.” She draped the shift over the side of the cart and clambered back down to stand beside Jane. “If you would just pull the cloak aside, child, I can smear a little on.”

  Lady Falconer had a point. It was not the easiest thing, applying ointment to one’s own backside.

  “Now is not the time to be shy, my dear,” her employer urged. “After all, with the exception of myself, Peggy, and my driver, we are all perfectly familiar with your nether regions.”

  Jane flushed, mortified. “Are they...? Is everyone talking about me?”

  “They are, yes, but not in the way you imagine so you can take that crestfallen look off your face.”

  “Then, in what way?”

  “Your antics have earned the admiration of all, including myself. You made a sacrifice for those you cared about. It was much appreciated, as I am sure Mr. Montgomery will be keen to explain, as soon as he has an opportunity.”

  “Mr. Montgomery? Archie? He... he does not despise me?”

  “Despise you? Why on earth would he do that? You probably saved his life.”

  “He will think me a harlot. I know that Robbie does because he said as much. Archie must consider me to be a trollop and a slut.”

  Lady Falconer’s features hardened. “He thinks no such thing and will, I am quite confident, lay out flat any man who suggests otherwise. Mr. McGregor, too.”

  Jane shook her head. “Robbie is angry with me. He... he means to send me away.”

  “No, my dear. I am sure you are quite wrong.”

  “But, he beat me. With his belt.”

  “Because you disobeyed him. He sets great store by obedience, I gather. But, he is not angry. He was, I expect, but he would not have punished you in a temper.”

  “But—”

  “Did he seem angry to you? Just now?”

  “Well, no. He was more... stern. And determined. He frightened me.”

  “I suspect, when you consider it more carefully, you will come to realise that it was his belt which frightened you, not the man himself. Mr. McGregor cares for you. Very much.”

  Jane shook her head, incredulous. “He does not. I would know. He... he dislikes me and thinks I am disobedient. And... a liar. I break my promises.”

  “You have been disobedient. But as for the rest, I do not believe that is his view. And even if it was, you would simply have to change his mind.”

  “Change his mind?” Jane parroted.

  “Prove him wrong. Your loyalty and courage are no in doubt, but perhaps you need to convince him that you can keep your word. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you want to do that?”

  “Yes.”

  Lady Falconer gentled her tone. “Why do you want him to think well of you?”

  “Because I do not want him to send me away.”

  “He will not do that, whatever happens. He cares for you, I have already told you this. But, what I find myself wondering is this. Do you care for him also?”

  Jane was silent for long moments, then, “I told him I hate him. That I would never forgive him for beating me.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then, you must tell him so.”

  “And, if I do care for him. Just a little? Should I tell him that also?”

  Lady Falconer smiled. “I shall leave that for you to decide, my dear. Now, are you going to let me apply some of this salve?”

  Setting aside what remnants of modesty she might possess, Jane lifted the edge of her cloak to expose her punished bottom. She twisted her body so that she could catch a view of her reddened skin. Even in the moonlight, the welts were plain to see.

  “Does it look very bad?” she asked.

  “You will bear the marks for a few days, I expect, but this ointment will make the discomfort more bearable.”

  Lady Falconer bent to apply the soothing balm. Her fingers were gentle, and Jane found herself wondering why she had ever considered her employer to be a cold, haughty woman. This evening she had revealed an entirely different side to her nature.

  “The dress, it is beautiful. It is very kind of you to allow me to borrow it.”

  “Nonsense. I owe you far more than a mere dress. And it
is yours to keep, not to borrow. The colour never suited me anyway.”

  * * *

  Should I have left her there?

  Robbie made his way back to the stables. He halted a number of times, ready to turn on his heel and return to the barn and bring Jane away with him. The girl was his responsibility, after all, not that of Lady Falconer.

  But, there were occasions when women seemed to need each other’s company and counsel, and perhaps this was one such time. The countess had not appeared angry. Quite the contrary, she had appeared to be concerned for Jane. He shrugged and, driven more by instinct that reason, decided to leave them to it. For a short while at least.

  He ducked his head to enter the stable then straightened to take stock. All of his men were seated or lying on the ground. A bright fire burned in a makeshift pit at the centre of the building. The roof was of thatch, and the smoke was slowly managing to find its way through, but much of it still hung in the eaves casting a gloom over the interior.

  Archie lay close to the fire and sported a thick bandage around his upper thigh. Robbie crouched beside him.

  “How bad is it?” he asked.

  “I took an arrow just here.” Archie pointed to a spot near the top of his right leg. “Broke off with the end still inside. Lady Falconer managed tae get it out.”

  “Ye’re lucky. A couple of inches tae the left an’ she would ha’ been diggin’ it out o’ your balls.”

  Archie grimaced. “They took us by surprise, an’ we were outnumbered.”

  “I could see that. D’ye think they were actually lookin’ for ye, or was it just good fortune on their part?”

  “I dinnae think they kenned we were there afore they stumbled across us. There is something goin’ on though. Just before they slung me in that cell I heard ‘em talking about marchin’ north, tae give King James a batterin’.”

  “So, ‘tis true, Henry has decided tae make war on Scotland.”

  “Aye, it sounded tae be so. There will be armies on the move. We did right tae come this way an’ maybe we will avoid encountering any more.”

  Robbie considered their situation for a few moments. “It will be a few days afore ye can ride again. What about Colin? How badly is he injured?”