A Major of Marnie (Miss Robin's Academy Book 3)

by Eva Nightingale

  "Mrs. Pendleton?" said Miss Robin to her assistant.

  "Yes, Miss Robin?"

  "Take this girl upstairs. Bring two attendants. When she is subdued, please return to my office."

  "At once, Miss Robin."

  The words and their tone sent a chill through Marnie. She knew what they meant. She could not help but cringe at some of her own past behaviour, knowing how closely it must have resembled Miss Lawson's present tantrum.

  "Come on, Mrs. Boring," Major Chance whispered in her ear, squeezing her upper arm. "It's time we took our leave."

  Marnie went upstairs to change into her travelling clothes. She came back downstairs in a travelling gown of pale green silk.

  When she went to say her farewells, she first addressed her family. She embraced her mother and was even courteous to Elspeth and Lippy, despite what she had heard from the Turners.

  To Miss Robin, she said, "Please, Miss Robin, accept my apologies—"

  Miss Robin waved her apology away.

  "Seeing you grow into the fine young woman you've become is a better—and sincerer—apology than any that could be spoken. I wish you all the very best, Mrs. Chance. Do come and visit soon. It's difficult to imagine this academy without you."

  She smiled before turning away.

  The most wrenching goodbye to make was with Georgie, who had not stopped crying all day. When Marnie bent to embrace her friend, she thought how she would miss that kind, open face, those guileless dark eyes. Her own became wet with tears.

  "Oh, don't cry, Marnie!" Georgie said. "If you cry, I'll cry!"

  "You are crying, you silly goose!"

  Georgie dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "I'm just—I don't mean to be selfish, but I will miss you frightfully. Write to me!"

  "Of course, I will. And you must come to visit. When you've graduated."

  Georgie swallowed. "If we wait that long, you shall never see me again."

  "Nonsense," Marnie said.

  She took her bouquet of daisies from the table where she'd left them and pressed them into Georgie's hands.

  "See you soon," she said and pulled her friend into a final firm embrace.

  Everyone applauded as Major and Mrs. Chance climbed into the carriage and drove away. Marnie could not bear to look back at the academy. If I do, she thought, I'll cry again.

  Perhaps that was why she had always been so careful not to cry, Marnie thought, wiping away a tear. It seemed once she had started, she hadn't been able to stop.

  Chapter 16

  They were several miles down the road and on the way out of London, when Major Chance reached down and retrieved a bag from the floor.

  "Here," he said, tossing it into Marnie's lap.

  Marnie looked warily at the worn leather saddlebag with its battered straps.

  "What's this?"

  "Open it."

  Marnie unbuckled the straps and reached inside, her heart fluttering—was this a gift? A surprise?

  She felt less than impressed when she pulled out what seemed to be a pile of coarse woollen rags.

  Marnie glanced up at the major and saw the glint in his eye. "It's the best I could do without knowing your measurements," he said. "I'm afraid they're mine. And old. But you could hardly ride in all that get-up."

  "Ride?" Marnie felt her heart lift.

  She shook out one of the heavy pieces of fabric in her lap and saw that it was an oversized dark woollen coat. There was also a shirt, breeches and a cap. A rough pair of stockings tumbled from her lap to the floor as the carriage rumbled forward.

  Marnie looked down at her silk slippers.

  "I doubt that these will do," she said.

  Her husband smiled, then reached beneath his seat and produced a plain brown box. He sat it on her lap. When Marnie opened it, she almost gasped. The riding boots were beautiful—a deep, chocolate brown leather, sturdy and warm, and tall enough that they would almost reach her knee.

  "Every soldier knows the value of a good boot," the major said.

  Marnie needed no further encouragement. She reached beneath her skirts and pulled off her slippers. She then reached behind her back for the buttons of her gown. But it was no good. She would never be able to remove the travelling gown in a moving carriage on her own.

  "How..." she began.

  "Turn," he said.

  She shifted on her seat, so that the row of pale-green silk-covered buttons running down her spine faced the major. There were short velvet curtains hanging at the sides of the carriage windows. Major Chance tugged each of them closed. All of a sudden, the carriage was darker, closer, and they were plunged into total, unexpected privacy.

  Marnie stared forward into the darkness, her nerves alive and singing.

  The next thing she felt was warmth—the warmth of the major's fingers at the top of her gown, where bare skin met the seam. Then there was the warmth of his lips, touching the nape of her neck in a way that made her gasp softly. She hadn't realised how cool her skin was until she felt the heat from his body. It made her tremble. She felt her nipples peak painfully, pressing against her restrictive gown.

  Major Chance began unhooking the buttons on her gown. There must have been two dozen of them, and he took his time easing each button from its loop.

  Marnie felt the gown loosening, felt the cold air seeping in between the layers she wore. Eventually, Major Chance eased it from her shoulders and slipped her arms from the sleeves. The hairs on Marnie's arms stood straight up.

  He put one thick arm around her waist and lifted her slightly to continue sliding the gown off. When he placed her back on the seat, she could feel the texture of the upholstery through her petticoats and drawers.

  But there was only a moment in which to feel self-conscious. In a single, swift motion, Major Chance pulled Marnie onto his lap, sideways. He placed a hand on her cheek, turned her head, and kissed her with a force that took her breath away. She thought she would never be accustomed to how abrupt and relentless his kisses were—she was given no time to react before he opened her mouth with his own, before his tongue found hers, before his hand slid down to close firmly over her breast.

  There was nothing to stop him now, Marnie thought. Now he could do whatever he wished with her.

  As though reading her thoughts, he turned her on his lap and picked loose the knot securing her corset's ribbon. In what seemed like only a moment, he had tugged the sides of the garment apart. He tore it loose, and it followed her gown onto the carriage's shifting floor.

  Next went her petticoats, and then Major Chance, Marnie straddling his lap, found the slit in her drawers and slipped his fingers inside. He found her quim wet and wanting and slid two fingers down the length of her sex, feeling the soft, parted lips, the heat of her, the swollen nub of her pearl.

  She moaned loudly when he began caressing her there, using enough pressure that the pleasure and relief was almost an ache in itself.

  Immediately, he clamped a hand over her mouth. "Hush," he whispered.

  Marnie shifted forward in her need, pressing herself against the long, hard ridge of his cock, which strained against his breeches.

  He exhaled loudly. "Patience," he said. He eased her back and continued circling her pearl with his fingers.

  Marnie was rapidly becoming more and more slick. He slipped one of his long, thick fingers inside her and she inhaled sharply with the mixture of feelings—the sudden discomfort, and with it, a yearning to be filled further.

  The major groaned, low and guttural in her ear. "Soon," he said. He removed his finger and Marnie winced. He gripped her hips hard and pulled her more tightly against his sex. "Soon, I will fill you to the hilt."

  He kissed her again and her hands were scrambling at his shirt, trying to find the buttons and figure out how to ease them through the buttonholes.

  Major Chance seized her hands with one of his own. Marnie realised the carriage was beginning to slow. They heard the driver slowing the horses.

  "Sir?" the
driver called once the carriage had stopped.

  There was movement, then a knocking at the carriage door. Marnie covered her chest with her hands. "Sir—we have arrived!"

  "One moment, if you please," Major Chance snapped.

  Marnie started to hear him give orders, hearing the absolute authority in his voice, all the geniality suddenly gone.

  The knocking at the carriage door stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

  He helped her dress in the dark confines of the carriage. She found she was quite pleased to be wearing his clothing, though it was rough and far too large for her. It was warm and comfortable, made for moving in—and besides, it carried his delicious scent of oak moss and cedar, and inhaling it made her glow with secret pleasure.

  When they emerged, it was into golden late afternoon sunshine. But Marnie was confused. They did not appear to have "arrived" anywhere. There was a small inn on the side of the road—all else was rolling hills, birdsong and a light summer breeze.

  "Where are we?" Marnie asked.

  The driver, standing nearby, stared at her in her baggy men's clothes.

  "Order the horses," Major Chance barked at him. The driver scurried away, glad to be out of the major's reach.

  Major Chance turned to Marnie. "We have another ten miles or so before we arrive," he said. "I thought you might like to ride."

  A groom from the inn appeared around the side of the modest stone building. He led Bess, saddled and ready to ride. When she saw Major Chance, she flicked her ears and whisked her tail. Scarlett was behind, being led by a stable boy. She had been brushed so well that her reddish coat gleamed in the sunlight. She was wearing a fine new saddle—and it wasn't a sidesaddle.

  Marnie went straight to Scarlett. She put one new boot through a stirrup and threw herself confidently on the mare's back, delighted that she wouldn't have to ride sidesaddle. The horse pressed her nose into her outstretched hand when she leaned down, and Marnie closed her eyes for a moment to absorb the happiness she felt—at being outside, with the sun on her back, with her horse, and with her husband by her side.

  Major Chance paid the groom and climbed onto Bess's back. He clicked his tongue. "This way," he said.

  They started off down the road, walking. When Major Chance could see that Marnie had not lost her confidence as a rider, he had Bess break into a trot. Scarlett followed. Marnie held the reins, smiling—it was all she could do not to ask her horse to fly off into a gallop.

  They rode in contented silence for some time, until the afternoon wore on into early evening. Eventually, they reached a crossroads.

  "My new barracks are that way," Major Chance said, pointing. "But we will go this way."

  "We're not staying in the town?" Marnie tried to keep the note of hope from her voice.

  He smiled. "I thought you'd had quite enough of towns," he said.

  They rode on down the smaller, rougher road. The few people they encountered, farmers and labourers, eyed Marnie curiously. Major Chance, if he noticed, gave no sign.

  Eventually, they came to a rise that looked down over a gently sloping hill. At the bottom of the hill was a house. It was more of a farmhouse, really—a sunny yellow three-storey building surrounded by a garden of bright wildflowers. Marnie could see the vivid reds and purples from far away.

  "It's modest," he said. "But I took the lease because, here, we shall have the best walks, the best rides—and there's a pretty brook I think you'll like. As well as a number of trees to climb."

  "Oh, stop that," Marnie said. She felt herself reddening. But she smiled. The house, she could see, was perfect. No stuffy drawing room to manage, no fine furnishings or elaborate dinners. It was a simple house in a beautiful place. She loved it on sight.

  She clucked her tongue for Scarlett to begin walking down the hill towards it.

  "Wait," Major Chance said.

  Marnie turned in her saddle and gave him a questioning look.

  "There's something I want to show you first," he said.

  Major Chance directed Marnie further along the rise, past the house, and into the woods nearby. They were dense and quiet. Through them ran the brook he had mentioned.

  He reined Bess in and dismounted, before securing her reins to a tree. Marnie followed suit, tying Scarlett to another tree nearby.

  The major swung a saddlebag over his shoulder. He then took Marnie's hand and walked with her downstream, along the cool, leafy banks, until they reached a clearing—it was almost like a small room, bordered thickly by trees on three sides and the brook on the other, the canopy overhead shutting out much of the light. They had to pick their way over several gnarled tree roots to enter.

  "I found this when I was inspecting the place," Major Chance said, once they were at its centre. "I think we might be the first people ever to enter."

  "It's wonderful," Marnie said. She was glad once again of her men's clothes and thick, tall boots, which allowed her to navigate the roots and stones with ease.

  For a long, suspended moment, they stood, a few feet apart, looking at each other. Then, he reached into his saddlebag and withdrew a blanket, which he cast over the soft, mossy ground. When she saw this, Marnie felt faint with anticipation. And when the major moved to close the distance between them, it sent a fresh flurry of excited terror through her. Soon, he was only a step away. The top of her head didn't reach his chin, and she felt tiny in his presence.

  "Marnie. Mrs. Chance. Take off that coat," he said.

  Marnie slipped the coat from her shoulders, allowing it to fall next to the blanket. She shivered—it was cool out of the sun.

  "Come here," Major Chance said.

  Marnie stepped towards him, expecting him to take her into his arms and kiss her once again.

  Instead, he spun her around so that her back was towards him, seizing both her wrists in one hand. He reached up and, with his free hand, took out the comb that held her hair in place. When it fell, he wrapped her tresses like a rope around his hand until he held her hair so tightly that her head tipped back. She was trapped, held completely in place.

  "What are you doing?" she gasped, even as she felt the familiar throb beginning between her legs.

  "Miss Robin has had a chance to punish you for the insubordination which saw you ejected from the academy and almost from my grasp forever," he said. His tone was dark, authoritative but measured. Marnie squirmed but could not move an inch. "But I have not. Do you think I was pleased to hear of your ingenious scheme to get yourself expelled?"

  "No!"

  "Did you think I would let such a blatant act of disobedience go unpunished?"

  "No!" Marnie cried. His grip on her was so tight. Struggling against it only gave her greater evidence of his brute strength, to which her body responded, no matter how much she instinctively resisted him.

  "Do you see that fallen tree?" Major Chance asked.

  Marnie did not answer immediately. He tugged her hair and she inhaled sharply at the pain.

  "Do you?"

  "Yes!"

  "Good. Go to it. Now. I want you bent over with your hands on the trunk and your drawers around your knees. Understood?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes, what?"

  "Yes, sir," Marnie said.

  Marnie felt a rush of confusing emotions—shock, irritation, her habitual need to argue but, also, excitement, arousal, and though she would have admitted it to no one, a desire to please her husband. She felt privately glad at the idea that her rebellious actions had affected him so much. And so, she did as the major asked. She went to the fallen trunk, unbuttoned the trousers she wore and then lowered them and her drawers until both were around her knees. She bent over. Her lush, pale gold bottom was exposed completely, the nude lips of her sex visible underneath.

  Major Chance, meanwhile, moved about the clearing. Marnie heard the sound of breaking wood, and her bottom clenched instinctively.

  She heard him approach and then the sound of something whistling through the air.
/>   "Yes, this should do nicely," he said to himself. Marnie felt his hand on her back. "Marnie, I am going to birch you. Do you know what that means?"

  She nodded.

  "Pardon me?"

  "Yes, sir," she said, her heart thudding wildly.

  "Good. There will be ten strokes. If you resist, complain, or move away, there will be more. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good. One," he said, and with his customary directness, he began. The birch whistled through the air and landed hard on Marnie's exposed, creamy bottom cheeks.

  "Oh!" she cried. She couldn't help it. After an initial second of shock, an itching, tingling stinging began which grew as the major, after saying, "Two!" let the branch swing towards her once more.

  "Three!" he called. "Four!"

  With each stroke, the sting intensified. Marnie's generous bottom went from a pretty, blush pink to a brighter pink, with patterns of intersecting stripes where the twigs of the branch had made contact with her smooth, sensitive skin.

  "Five!"

  "Six!"

  "Seven!"

  His strokes were measured, but still, the sting increased to a constant, painful burn. Marnie moaned, desperate to move away and make it stop. She gripped the trunk harder and gritted her teeth, still presenting her poor, smarting bottom to her husband's punishment.

  "Eight!"

  Marnie's bottom was on fire. The pain was rising, her nerves on edge, her skin searing.

  "Nine!"

  She almost flinched away, catching herself just in time and only rising up on her toes.

  "Ten!"

  At the final stroke, Marnie cried out. Her bottom was now bright red, and when the major reached down to stroke it, he could feel the heat radiating from it.

  "There now," he said, his voice softer, though still dark and full of promise. "You won't try to get away from me again, will you?"

  Marnie's eyes were closed. "No, sir. Never," she said and meant it.

  He helped her to rise from the trunk and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her.

  "Good," he said. He cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. "Because it would never work—I would find you wherever you went and however far you ran. So, you may as well save yourself the punishment and stay."