by Ashe Barker
So, here it starts...
“I daresay ye would like that, Jane, but we have business tae settle ye an’ me. Until such time as I consider our account tae be in order, ye have forfeited the right tae privacy.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Ye heard well enough. Now, I suggest ye get on wi’ what ye need tae do. Once we have dealt wi’ your ablutions, an’ after ye’ve taken a bite tae eat an’ had a wee drink, we shall proceed to the matter o’ your punishment.”
“What are you babbling about? What punishment?”
He grinned. “Your memory is slipping badly, Jane. Not tae worry, I can remind ye of all that requires tae be addressed. But I do recommend that ye relieve yourself afore ye make a mess on Betsy’s nice rug.”
Not for the first time he found himself on the receiving end of a withering scowl. He really must think about teaching her better manners, but he had more pressing business to attend to. He was, though, pleased to note that the sheer urgency of her situation seemed to have dawned upon Jane. She grabbed one of the pots and set it on the floor at the head of the bed, then she dragged one of the heavy curtains along the rail, effectively blocking his view of that portion of the chamber.
“You, stay there,” she commanded imperiously, then stepped behind her makeshift screen.
Robbie took advantage of the few minutes in which she was otherwise preoccupied to assemble the items he felt might be needful in the next hour or so—four more kerchiefs, a stout leather belt, and a small tub of butter, which he had had the foresight to seek out in the kitchens before he retired the previous night. He had just arranged these on a low table beside the bed when Jane emerged from behind the curtain.
“Better?” he inquired.
Her response was something between a snort and a snarl. She glared at him, then helped herself to another long drink of the aired water.
“Try the buttermilk,” he suggested. “I gather ‘tis good for such eventualities.”
“What eventualities?” Jane demanded, though she did pick up the cup and took a tentative sip.
“The lingering effects of too much wine.”
“I did not...” She paused in her denial and sank onto a chair. “Well, perhaps I did, for I can think of no other explanation for my having spent the night here in your chamber. I need to return to my own quarters at once, before anyone misses me.”
“Ye’ll be goin’ nowhere, Jane, at least, not for a while. We have matters tae settle, you an’ I.”
“So you keep saying. What matters?”
“Well, there is the candlestick, o’ course. Have ye remembered that little incident yet? And can ye recall tryin’ tae kick my door off its hinges?”
She furrowed her brow. “I do vaguely remember feeling mightily aggrieved with you...” Her eyes widened. “Yes! I do remember. You locked me in.”
“Aye, I did, an’ when that didnae suffice tae restrain ye I bound your wrists. Eventually I had tae tie ye tae the bed.”
“You left me. Here. On my own.” Her voice thrummed with remembered fury.
“Tae sleep, aye. An’ it worked. At least, ye stopped tryin’ tae murder me.”
“For now,” she muttered, then she heaved a heavy sigh. “I confess, I may have been somewhat... overwrought. If my actions seemed excessive to you, then I apologise.”
“I accept your apology, though I would recommend ye water the wine a little i’ future. At least until ye become more accustomed tae the effects.”
She squeezed her eyes closed and raised her palm to her forehead. “I do not believe I shall ever drink the stuff again.”
“I am relieved. Is your head aching?”
“No, though I do feel a little fragile just now.”
“Have some of this bread and honey, an’ a little more buttermilk.” He used his dagger to slice of a hunk of bread and slathered honey onto it.
“I do not believe I could eat anything.”
“And I disagree. Do as ye’re told, Jane, or we shall be here a long time.” He held out the bread, waited for her to take it from him.
“If I eat this, will you allow me to return to my quarters? I... I should try to refresh myself somewhat before I seek out Lady Eleanor to receive instructions as to my duties here.”
Robbie shook his head. “Eleanor can wait. For now, ye will eat this, an’ finish your buttermilk. Then, once I have satisfied myself that ye’re not about tae dump your breakfast back intae this other chamber pot, I shall require ye tae remove your gown an’ any under things, an’ lay yourself across the foot of my bed in readiness for the thrashing ye have earned this last day or so.”
“What? You mean to beat me? Again? Just for imbibing too much wine? May I remind you it was your father who kept refilling my goblet.”
“Ah, well, I am glad ye recall those details at least. But, no, I shall not be taking issue wi’ you for gettin’ drunk as I ken well enough ye did no’ intend it an’ had not the experience tae realise when ye should have stopped. If ye make a habit of it, though, an’ there is any repetition of last night’s tantrums, I shall no’ be lenient at all.”
“Then, what—?”
Robbie set the bread back on the tray and held up one finger. “To start with, there is the matter o’ your impertinence two nights ago, when we were at the inn. I promised ye a spankin’ for that, but since I had been less than gentle wi’ ye just afore your unfortunate outburst I shall be satisfied wi’ only three strokes on this occasion.” He raised a second finger. “Then there was the manner in which ye marched off in the courtyard yesterday. Ye ignored me when I called tae ye, an’ took up residence among my brother’s servants when ye knew full well I had other plans for ye. I think that calls for a good half dozen or so. Then, and most grievous of all, is your stubborn and mule-headed refusal tae even consider becomin’ my wife.”
“You cannot mean to spank me into agreeing to marry you?”
“Can I not? I am thinkin’ a good, hard spankin’ on a daily basis might do wonders for your disposition, Janie.”
“You cannot be serious! That would be... cruel, and... and...”
“Even so, I believe I am inclined tae consider it, along with other methods I have in mind.”
“What other methods?” Jane rose to her feet. “Robbie, you are scaring me.”
He met her startled gaze. “So, I have your attention, at last. Then we can start.”
Chapter Nineteen
Her mouth had been as dry as parchment when she first woke up. The water had helped, but now Jane ran the tip of her tongue across her lips. Robbie McGregor’s stern statements of intent both chilled and aroused her.
Had he really threatened to beat her every day until she acquiesced to his ridiculous demands? She was not entirely sure that he would not resort to such measures.
Jane told herself that she should hate him. She should flee from this place at the first opportunity, return to England where people were sane and reasonable and did not insist upon turning her over for a spanking at every verse end.
But, Jane knew she would not do any such thing. She had employment here, work that she loved, among people whom she genuinely liked and who seemed to like her. Why should she be driven from all she cared about by... by...?
Liar! Be honest with yourself, if nothing else.
Jane would stay, and not only because of her job. She had already admitted to herself that she loved Robbie McGregor, infuriating, arrogant great Hebridean lout though he might be. If marriage to him were even a remotely sensible idea, she would jump at the chance. She could envisage no finer future. But it would be folly. He would soon become disillusioned when he realised he had become shackled to an uneducated wife who could not even write her own name. Jane could just about manage to run a nursery but had not the slightest idea what might be involved in managing a large household and the Lord only knew how many servants. Robbie McGregor would be Laird of Skye. His wife must be a lady, not some lowborn wench from the docks at Portsmouth, daughter
of a woman who took in the washing of her betters in order to feed her brood.
The whole notion was utter madness, but Jane could not quite bear to relinquish the dream. As long as she remained here, with Robbie McGregor, her silly, girlish fantasy remained alive. She could share his bed, relish his lovemaking, maybe even bear his children. But her rightful place was not beside him in his world, and it never would be.
“Eat your breakfast, Janie.”
Robbie’s tone was low, almost gentle, though she could detect not a hint of concession there. He meant what he said.
Jane Bartle prided herself on being practical. She would pick her battles and was not about to have her bottom reddened over something as trivial as a lump of bread and honey. She sank back into her chair and reached for the tray.
The food was surprisingly good, and she found she was hungrier than she had thought. She finished the bread prepared by Robbie, then tore off another piece. She dipped that in the pot of honey and stuffed it in her mouth.
It did not take her long to clear the plate, then she gulped down the buttermilk. It was not a drink she especially favoured as a rule, but it was wholesome and did serve to settle her roiling stomach somewhat. She set down the mug and met his gaze. “So, I have finished. Now what?”
He regarded her from across the chamber, his hip resting on the sill of the window and his arms folded across his chest. He would have appeared formidable at any time, but there was something about that purple and green plaid, the manner in which it draped his hips and framed the planes and contours of his chest... Jane was both intimidated and aroused. She swallowed hard and resolved not to let him discern just how disoriented she was.
“You said earlier that you felt fragile. I do mean tae take my belt tae ye, but I shall no do it while ye’re unwell. If ye would like tae sleep a little more, I can wait.”
Wait? The prospect of delaying her ordeal filled Jane with dread. If she was to be spanked, then she would endure it. If he insisted upon spanking her again tomorrow, she would endure that also. None could question her fortitude, or her determination.
“I am perfectly well, thank you.” She stiffened her spine, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin.
“Excellent. Will you need my help to remove your gown?”
“If you could assist with the fastenings at the back...” She turned to face away from him, determined not to allow him to see that her lip was quivering and her hands shaking.
Sweet Virgin, I should be used to being spanked by now. Does it never become any easier?
Robbie’s fingers were gentle and deft as they worked the fastenings loose. Moments later the bodice fell forward, revealing the linen shift beneath.
“Thank you. I believe I can manage the skirt myself.” Jane stepped away from him and proceeded to remove the rest of her clothes. Soon, she stood naked in front of him.
“Our journey took its toll on ye,” he observed, his lavender-hued eyes darkening. “Ye have lost weight since first I saw you...”
Jane shrugged. It was possible, though not her principle concern right at this moment. “Nine strokes? Did I understand that correctly?” She arched a dark eyebrow at him.
He quirked his lip. “That, or thereabouts. Ye will arrange the bolster across the bottom o’ the bed, if ye please, then lay across it. I shall want your bottom raised up nice an’ high, so if ye think an extra pillow or two would help, then please feel free to use as many as you wish.”
Jane gulped. This was sounding rather serious. Conscious of her nudity, and his gaze upon her, she moved to do as he instructed. After she had dragged the bolster and one plump pillow to the foot of the bed, she glanced at him for approval.
“That will probably do. Ye may use the footstool tae climb up.” He nudged a padded stool forward so that it could serve as a step at the foot of the bed. “Arrange yourself as I told ye, an’ we shall see how ye look.”
Oh, we will, will we?
Jane set her jaw and stepped onto the stool, then leaned forward so as to position herself with her stomach on top of the pile of pillows. Her toes barely reached the stool. She had never felt so precarious, or so exposed.
“Hmm, we shall have tae make sure ye cannae fall, lass.” Robbie picked up a pair of kerchiefs from a pile he had placed on a table beside the bed. He tied one around each of her wrists, then attached those to the solid oak struts that ran the length of the bed. Her arms were stretched wide, her shoulders lower than her upturned backside and her bare breasts pressed against the mattress. Her sense of exposure and vulnerability was increased, but there was no possibility at all that she would tumble from her perch.
“Now for your feet,” he explained, selecting two more kerchiefs. With these, he secured her ankles to the wooden bars that formed the bedframe at the bottom, ensuring that her legs were spread wide. She strained her neck to peer over her shoulder, watching him when he stepped back to peruse her exposed sex.
“Janie, ye make a pretty sight, ye surely do.”
Fear and arousal clamoured for attention. She was terrified of what was to come, but at the same time filled with anticipation. The naked lust in his hot gaze sent pulses of excitement straight to her core. Lord forbid that she might actually become wet though she feared it might be so. It was heady, this awareness that he was looking at her, studying her, scrutinising every intimate inch of her.
“Robbie, please...”
He met her gaze and smiled. “Please what, Janie? Is there something I can do for ye just now?”
She closed her eyes, shook her head. Why did he have to confuse her so, just when she needed to have her wits about her and be strong?
“No?” he went on. “In that case, shall we be gettin’ on wi’ your spankin’ then? Are ye quite ready?”
Jane ground her teeth and managed to force herself to nod.
“What was that? I’ll have ye say the words, if ye dinnae mind, lass. Just tae be certain o’ not misunderstandin’ each other.”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I am ready.”
She almost whimpered out loud when he picked up a heavy-looking leather belt and folded it in half. How would she ever survive nine strokes with that?
“Ah, I see ye appreciate my choice, Janie.” He smiled at her and swung the belt through the air a couple of times. “I think we can make a decent impression on ye wi’ this. Mind, it wouldnae do tae allow ye tae get bored so once we are done here I shall need ye tae take a short walk down tae the coppice just outside the village an’ cut a few switches. Since it appears this will be a daily ritual between us, I shall require a regular supply and that shall be your responsibility. A half dozen or so each day will suffice. Ye can ask Betsy for a bucket an’ keep it filled wi’ water, then ye can keep our switches in here, nice an’ wet an’ ready for my use.”
“Every day?” she breathed. “Every single day?”
“Well, perhaps we could give it a miss on Sundays. We shall see how your attitude develops, though I fear we do have much work tae do. Unless, o’ course, ye feel minded tae save the pair of us a great deal o’ trouble an’ agree tae wed me now.”
Irritation flared. “I would not wed a brute like you if you were the last man on God’s green earth.” She regretted her minor outburst in the next instant when he simply smiled and nodded.
“I was right. A great deal o’ work. Well, let’s be gettin’ on with it. l would appreciate it if ye would do as before, Janie. After each stroke ye will thank me for my trouble an’ ask me very politely for the next.”
“Damn you,” she muttered, though not quite softly enough.
“If ye insist upon swearin’ at me I shall be obliged tae add on a few more strokes in order tae discourage the use of profanity,” he informed her coolly. “So, afore ye make matters even worse, ye may ask me tae get started.”
Jane opened her mouth to inform him exactly what she thought of that notion but managed to hold her tongue. Instead, she forced out the words he waited to hear.
�
��I am ready. Please begin.”
She held her breath, her entire body tense. Robbie took his time, the infuriating, horrible man. He tested the weight of the belt several more times, causing the air to whistle when he swung it. Just as she started to exhale and let her body relax somewhat, he delivered the first stroke, right across her quivering buttocks.
Jane cried out in shock and pain. She wriggled in her bonds, but her efforts were futile. She could barely move, only wait for the next blow, and the next.
“D’ye mean tae stay here the entire day, Jane?” His tone was soft, matter-of-fact even. “I am in nae particular hurry but if ye want tae get this o’er with ye’d best be speakin’ up.”
She groaned, then managed to form the words. “Th-thank you. Please, will you strike me again?”
He did, the second spank landing just below the first. Her bottom already felt to be on fire, but he stoked the flames. Jane gasped as she waited for the agony to cool.
“Thank you,” she bit out. “Can I have the next one?”
“Ye need tae say please, Janie. Or we shall have tae start over.”
“Please,” she rasped.
The next stroke fell on her right cheek, and sent fiery fingers slithering across her heated skin.
Jane managed to utter the required response, then screamed when he spanked her again, this time on the left buttock.
“If ye need a wee respite, Janie, we can stop for a few moments.”
She shook her head, determined to be done with this. “Thank you. Please, again...”
He repeated the swing, landing another searing welt across both globes of her backside. Jane shrieked, then bit her lip as she waited for the burn to ease. She panted into the mattress, gathering her wits. Maybe if she begged him to stop, he would.
“P-please, Robbie, I am sorry...”
“I daresay. Is this another apology for your antics of last night, or maybe for your rudeness and disobedience yesterday?”
“Everything. Anything. Please, I cannot bear it...”
