Scold's Passions

by Marie Hall

  "These may seep a bit yet," the woman said as she tied the last little wrap around Io's finger. "And they will be tender a day or two, but they will heal in good time." She sat back and waved her hand at Io. "Best put her in a room; she succumbed to the drink quicker than I would think she should."

  "What room, Stella?" Jon asked as Ian lifted Io long enough for Xavier to get to his feet and take her back.

  The woman gave a dismissive wave and said, "Use the one on the second floor in the north east corner; the sun will not spill in on that side."

  "Thank you, fine lady," Jon said with a loud, sloppy kiss to her cheek. Clearly, some relationship was already established here, which boded well for Io, should she have to stay for a while. "Come, Brice, I will show you where."

  Xavier followed Jon toward the back of the building, up a flight of stairs, a little too familiar maybe with the layout. He opened one of the doors and stepped aside. The woman hadn't made the offer of the room on a whim. Already, a bed was set up for Io's use, and some of her belongings sat in the far corner. Xavier was debating if he could leave her to make arrangements or if he might need to sit with her, when a very young girl came through the door with a stool and an embroidery hoop in her hands.

  "Madame Stella said I am to sit here and be quiet, until the lady wakes. I am Lucy, I milk the goats," the child said, dipping into a curtsy.

  "They already love her at this place, Brice," Jon said. "They have from the first day she walked in here."

  "Or they just love the coin you have all dropped," Xavier remarked with practicality.

  "They like the coin; they love the lady. Who does not?" Jon pointed to the part of the room the sun still shone in. "Do your needlework in the light, Lucy," he said then walked out the room. Xavier lingered only a few more minutes before making his way to the small room where the keep was working on books. It took very little time to work out a deal which would provide rooms and meals and even a few women to help Io with her dress and such, until her fingers healed, and not cost Xavier every coin he'd brought. In fact, for the length of time they could be here, it'd cost him less than he paid the few days he'd held Io at the Inn at Hillsdale, and he knew she'd be far happier here, practicing with the trays or whatever she'd be about.

  Chapter 15

  Io sniffed again and squeezed her fingers between her knees. The act did little to relieve the pain. Tipping her head back against the wall, she took a long, deep breath, held it, then let it out. Pain throbbed so each fingertip felt like her heartbeat there.

  The room was dark but for a sliver of moonlight streaming in from the window. She'd no idea how long she'd slept, but for once, she felt rested. Squeezing her knees together again to pinch her fingers, she let the little moan escape. If only this pain would go.

  "Io?"

  She jumped, pushing back into the wall. She'd not bothered to see if she was alone in the room when she woke. But as she watched Xavier sit up from the floor, she took a moment to see who else might be here.

  "Beg pardon, I did not mean to startle you," Xavier said; that he didn't keep his voice low meant they were alone.

  "Where am I?" Io asked, pulling her feet back when Xavier shifted to lean on the bed and his fingers almost touched her.

  "The tavern," he said, and she heard his huff when she again pulled out of reach.

  "The tavern?" She'd some vague memory of coming to the place, but much of what happened from the time she went to bed until she woke up here with her fingers hurting was unclear.

  Xavier rolled to his knees and then leaned forward, his arms crossed so he didn't touch her. "The Buck and Dove? Do you not recall coming here?"

  "I… Maybe… I am not sure." Perhaps it was the trip here that caused the injuries to her hands. But why couldn't she remember it.

  "Do not worry; you had a rather large amount of mead, and I think more as well." Xavier chuckled and shook his head. "The drink probably stole your memory."

  "Drink?" That could explain the way the inside of her mouth felt. "Was I unpleasant, then?"

  His laugh briefly filled the room. "No, you were not. I think it isn't drink that makes you unpleasant, but I." He stood, turned, and took a seat on the bed, pushing back to lean against the wall next to her. "You are angry with me?"

  Was she? It seemed more like confusion. "It was only a vase, and it did not hit you," she said, turning her face away. His disapproval she'd expected, even some manner of punishment, but he'd strapped her, and thoroughly.

  He was quiet for some time, and when he did speak, he sounded almost amused. "It was a vase, and you did miss. Were we at home… I might have done little more than redden your arse with my hand. But, Io." He shifted and his weight tipped her off balance and she toppled to the side where he was able to wrap an arm around her and bring her down so she was cradled against him. "We are not home. We are where your actions are watched and judged and talked about. At home, your behavior is common, expected, and fully accepted as part of who you are. If your actions exceed limits, I set them back and we go on. Here…" He pulled her closer. "Here, it is different, mostly because no one yet knows you. They will not see you throwing pottery and hearing you screeching and think you to be only frustrated or tired. They will see a woman, with rank and power… Rank and power," he repeated when she started shaking her head, "who has childish tantrums." His arms tightened, maybe because she gasped at his words. "And because they do not know you, do not understand you are not one to do harm to anyone, they will fear you."

  "Fear me?"

  "Yes, fear you, because for many here, they hold on to what they have only tentatively. Anyone who might strike at them, take from them… as you could… is feared."

  "I want nothing anyone has," she reminded him.

  "And they do not know this. In time, they will come to see it. But for now, while you are a stranger, you must be more reserved, because the more they fear you, the more they will act to destroy you."

  "You will not let them." She felt the confidence in those words.

  "Of course not, but it is easier to prevent any attacks than to fight once they start. What I would tolerate at home, Io, I will not here. What would otherwise earn nothing more than a lecture will cost you in flesh." He sighed as he covered her hands with his own to stop her picking at the bandages. "I do not expect perfection. I do expect you to use more sense. And I know you are well capable of making those quick assessments of people; your instincts will tell you who you might be completely you before and who will never be so fortunate as to really know you."

  It wasn't unfair what he was telling her. Truth, it was something she already knew. Still… "You might have warned me," she pouted, only to hear him laugh.

  "Would it have stopped you throwing the vase? Just a warning? Or would you have seen if I meant it?"

  "I think I shall not answer that." Again, she made sure he heard her dissatisfaction. She well might have pushed him. She often did. And she could because she knew and trusted in his restraint.

  "Wise, as there is a chance I would have to call you out as a liar," he said then took hold of her and flipped her face down across his lap. His hand on the back of her leg, it slid upward, taking the skirts along with it. "And you are aware the penalty for that." He pulled the arm under her free and reached over her back so both his hands were now rubbing circles over her arse. "It would be a shame to have to lay down more marks."

  His attention was causing a frustration to build. Not one touch had yet surpassed anything but gentle yet she felt that twisting, tightening in her gut. Before the fight, they were apart for days, and he'd not stayed after. The seven days following made his absence acute because she spent them trapped in the house, where everything there could remind her he wasn't.

  Her skin prickled under his hands and those prickles ran up her back. His thumb would brush so close to her crack and she'd tense in anticipation, only to never feel that touch. His fingers would sweep the underside, where her thighs came together but not reac
h her sex, which throbbed.

  "Io?" he called.

  "Perhaps I could welcome a few marks, my lord," she answered.

  "What kind?" He drew his legs out from under her.

  "Teeth?" She wrapped her arms around his thighs as he knelt so her head sat between his knees and he could lean over her back.

  "Teeth?" he asked, and she felt his breath over the swell of her arse. "Teeth leave nice marks," he said, but it was his lips she felt. "I might enjoy seeing such marks on you." His tongue make little swirls at the very top center of her arse. One hand held his weight, while the other flattened on her right cheek and pulled it from its twin.

  Nothing but a little scrap at first, then a bit more, and with the next touch, Io inhaled sharply as the act left a record of what he'd done on her flesh.

  "Ah," she heard him say as he lifted back and drew his finger over the spot. "That is lovely."

  "It is dark, how do you know?" Io asked, lifting her hips, hoping he'd do it again.

  "Because it always is," he quipped then sunk his teeth into her arse again. This time, a bit harder as he chose a fleshier spot. "This one is lovely, too," he said when he came up.

  "Xavier," Io groaned.

  "Yes, love?"

  Making sure she stayed positioned under him, she rolled to her back, planting her feet and spreading her knees. "Mark something else," she demanded.

  "My choice?" he asked, but his head dropped down between her thighs. Io only shrugged, reaching up for his codpiece and the ties to his britches.

  His teeth took a small nip at her thigh, so close to where she mostly wanted him to bite. It was nearly impossible to untie the laces with her fingers wadded up in cloth and she was about to screech in frustration, when he reached back and took matters into his own hand. His cock sprang free as his mouth settled on her clit, and Io returned the favor by drawing the head of his shaft into her mouth. His groan rumbled over her, and his hands slid under her arse to lift her for more access.

  Io worked her tongue around what she could reach with his hips so high over her, but with her fingers covered, the best she managed was to clutch his length in the palm of her hand. Even with her attempt to tug him lower, she couldn't get more than the head and some in her mouth, and as she felt herself building toward that point, it became harder and harder to stay focused on the task.

  She was right there when Xavier jerked away, climbed over her and turned. Before she could think to protest, he was shoving up deep inside her. The pleasure came fast and hard as did his every stroke. He had her clutched tightly against him as he moved so his groin rubbed her clit, causing a second burst of pleasure to pulse over her, but that was it, Xavier went stiff and dropped his head into the bedding to muffle the cry he gave as his own release came.

  He lay over her panting for several minutes, before pushing up. "Sorry, love, I will make this up to you."

  "I did take mine," she told him.

  "Yes, but once and—"

  "Twice," she corrected and felt him chuckle as he lay back down on her.

  "Still, it was hardly an act worthy of you," Xavier told her as he kissed her along her jaw. "I have missed you often in many ways these last years, but this last week—"

  "Were you lonely?"

  "I was."

  "Me too," she admitted and wrapped her arms around him. She was about to beg him not to take her back to that house when her stomach spoke up.

  "I perhaps should feed you, lest you take more drink and pass out like an infant again," he teased and tried to pull back, only she wrapped her legs around him.

  "I think some food, and then you can prove you are not a boy of fifteen with so much quantity but little quality."

  "Were you not such a vulgar woman, two would be satisfactory," he complained as he thrust a few times with his half-hard cock.

  "But I am."

  "So you are, and so I will feed you and bring you back here to give you what you are deserving of." More thrusts from a stiffer shaft, and he lifted off her and stood. "Shame, look at you, with your skirts all hiked around her waist. Completely vulgar."

  "Look at you," she sat up and pointed to where he was trying to redress himself, "you did not get your britches off your hips." She gave his person a look when he stepped into the moonlight. "Your boots are still on."

  "You gave me no chance, with your brash demands," he said as he searched the room, finding her shoes and setting them on the bed.

  "My demands did not start until after you began having your way with me," she said, sliding her foot into the shoe.

  "I would not have had to have my way with you if you had not…" she waited as he worked to find some way to teasingly turn this on her. "…if you had not been sitting there."

  Io had no reply, and if she had, the laughter would have kept it from getting out. But that laughter turned to a growl as she couldn't work her foot into the shoe with how much her fingers hurt. "This is ridiculous. Why are my fingers all bound up and hurting?" she complained and made to toss the shoe to the floor; she could go without.

  "Do you not remember?" Xavier asked, coming down on his haunches before her and getting the shoe on.

  "No. How much exactly did I drink?"

  "Io, you do not remember falling through the trap in the yard and scratching at the walls?"

  "No," she almost cried. It sounded frightening. Why didn't she remember?

  "Io, do not fret over it. It was late; you were mostly asleep, and the fright of it—"

  "Sometimes people do not remember frightening things?" He'd told her that once. Said men fought whole wars and remembered little of them for a time after.

  "Sometimes they do not," he said and cupped her chin in his hand. "Do not worry on it, and…" He covered her hands where she tried to smooth the wraps. "Do not pick at your fingers until they heal." Taking her wrists, he pulled her to her feet, swept his hand down over her skirts to make sure they were in place and then led her out the room, downstairs, and into the cheery atmosphere of the tavern.

  He worked to keep a straight face as Io continued to tell him all the very good reasons he should get the innkeeper to sell him the goat she was currently trying to not get rammed by.

  She had to spin out of the way then bend down and yank her skirts from the goat's teeth. "Look, you see, he is very spirited," she said as she herded the goat back to the trough and added a little grain so he'd not chase her out the gate.

  "I am not going to buy you a goat, Io," Xavier told her. "You will wait until we return home and find one there." He made a fist and covered his mouth to not laugh when she tossed her hands in the air and gave him a pleading look.

  "But he is so sweet," she continued.

  "No goats, Io. Go pick out a jewel or a fabric, leave the livestock alone," Xavier said, stumbling back when she threw herself at him.

  "But, Xavier," she said, over exaggerating her pleading. "Goats are so wonderful. And we do not have any as wonderful as this one."

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No goats until we get home." She made such a face, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

  "You are the cruelest husband ever born," she said but not with a straight face.

  "And you will do well to remember this," he said, lifting and twirling her around. "I am a feared and dangerous man." He set her down and bent to bit her neck, which caused her to squirm and laugh.

  "You should not believe what they say about you. Is that not what you tell me?" she mocked then dodged away before the swat intended for her backside could fall. She skipped away, laughing with a joy he'd not heard in several weeks.

  The marked change in her demeanor since they'd moved out of the house was something everyone noticed. She was much more the woman he was used to dealing with. The sullenness was all but gone, coming to the surface when she had to sit and have her fingers treated. She still tried to pick at them and perhaps more than she did when she was thinking something through. Gerald went so far as to suggest the habit was perhaps s
tarted the first time she was down in the hole. Though no one knew for sure as Io's contentment wasn't something anyone was willing to risk by questioning her on it.

  He stood and watched her skip over to where several children played. From the perimeter, he saw several of the men shift to be better able to keep an eye on her. During the day, the tavern had few customers. At night, was a different story. The villages were quickly filling as those who wanted to seek audience at court and who lived close enough came in earnest. Many men, now separated from their wives, sought any tavern where drink and women could be had. Xavier knew the behavior and how to quickly spot those who'd make trouble trying to prove themselves. But he wouldn't prevent the innkeeper from adding to his pockets, considering how accommodating he and the women were being. So while Io had the place all day if she so chose, at night she was restricted to a small area, and as soon as supper was finished, she was removed to her room.

  Everyone made it clear the lady was protected and off limits, and because the keep and the whores addressed her as 'Lady Brice' whenever strangers were in the establishment, everyone knew who exactly protected her. Still, Xavier didn't miss the looks. Men who perhaps hoped to win some prize of reputation by trying to have a turn with his wife. That Io would turn them down, he didn't doubt. That some wouldn't take her refusal and move on… he knew that, too. And at this time of day, when Xavier was most likely to be away, when Io was most free in her movements, now would be when she was most vulnerable, but for those men who, without any specific instruction, knew exactly how to provide the right balance of protection and liberty. He watched a moment more then turned at the sound of horses approaching.

  Xavier came around the side of the building as Sir Howard and his party dismounted.

  "Brice," Howard called.

  "Richard," Xavier returned, holding out his hand.

  "We thought you went home," he said, taking the offered hand. "The house is abandoned? And you did not return yesterday as expected?"