There have been difficult times of course, not least the day news reached us of the death of Princess Susanna. She never reached Vienna, having met with a fatal accident on the way there. For my part I regard this as a merciful end, for I doubt the princess would have found a sympathetic audience at court. The outcome of her trial was inevitable, and the penalty would have been death. She met that fate earlier than she might have, though without the indignity of being required to plead in vain for her life.
Tally wept at the news, and continues to maintain that Princess Susanna was the wronged party. From the little I saw of Lord Eberhard I can accept there may have been some truth to that, but we will probably never know. I held Tally, encouraged her to vent her grief and her sense of injustice. It was all I could do, and I hope it was sufficient. She is calm again now and immersed in her role as my duchess.
“Is there further news from Vienna? Princess Susanna eluded justice but the trials of her other nobles should be concluded by now, should they not?”
I glance at Karl, puzzled by his sudden interest in politics. He never showed such concern previously for matters of state.
“I have heard no word of it.”
“I see. It is just that Berthe is perturbed. She insists that the princess was unfairly used, and that the others who were accused with her had only acted under the instructions of that uncle of hers.”
“Her grace expressed a similar sentiment. They are both biased of course.”
“Could you enquire as to the outcome? It would please Berthe…”
“And that would please you, I do not doubt.”
He shrugs, but his sheepish grin is not lost on me. I have known from the moment he added her to our party and brought her with us from Hohenzollern that Karl entertained more than passing fondness for the maidservant. He is smitten. I grant she is comely enough and her disposition seems fair. She has become a valuable part of my household, though the duties of lady’s maid to my wife have largely been assumed by Mathilde.
“I will send a courier to Vienna if this will pour oil on the troubled waters of your courtship. Though why you do not simply bed the girl I cannot quite grasp.”
“I suspect she would crush my balls in the cider press were I to suggest such a thing without the benefit of holy wedlock.”
“Ah. Unless I miss my guess your balls are in a sorry state in either case then. Though I daresay you could consider the wench’s alternative. I do recommend it.”
Karl’s jaw assumes a familiar stubborn angle. “I have no intention of marrying.”
I grin at him, and note the uncomfortable shift as he adjusts himself in the saddle. A sorry state indeed.
“I see.”
* * *
“My lord. I have a request I would like to make of you, if you please.”
We are in our solar, Tally engaged on embroidering yet another tapestry whilst I am penning my missive to the emperor seeking details of the Hohenzollern trials. I lay down the quill and turn my attention to my wife.
“Indeed. Let me hazard a guess. You would like me to bind your wrists to the bedposts and lick that beautiful quim of yours perchance? Or perhaps you are in dire need of a spanking?”
Tally stifles a smile. “Those do sound quite delightful suggestions, Stefan. But my request is of a different nature.”
Her tone has become serious.
“Then ask me.”
Tally has also deposited her needlework. She wrings her hands, a gesture I have not witnessed for some time. And sure enough, she is chewing on that bottom lip again. These are not good indications. I wait.
“My lord…” Another bad sign, but I let her lapse go. After a slight hesitation, she continues. “I understand from Berthe that you intend writing to the emperor regarding the fate of the Hohenzollern prisoners.”
Karl must have told his ladylove of my plans. “That is correct, sweetheart.”
“Is that what you are writing now, my lord?”
“Yes, it is. Was there something specific you would like me to raise with the emperor?”
“Yes. No, I mean…”
I cock my head to one side and regard her. “Tally, what is it?”
“Would you object if I were to include a personal message with your package?”
“You wish to write to the emperor?”
“No, not the emperor. I thought I might write a short note to Sophia. Would you permit that?”
I regard her across the table. I had not expected this, though in truth the idea has merit. But for one little detail.
“Is she able to read?”
Tally reddens. “No, not really. I had started to teach her, but … I was hoping that there might be someone at the court who could help. Surely someone would read my letter to her. Perhaps even aid her in penning a reply.”
“Perhaps. We can but hope. Or we could ensure that outcome by sending your missive in the care of my cousin. Lady Alberta de Lombard is a lady-in-waiting to the empress, a kindly enough soul. And most crucial to our cause, she is mother to five children herself so will have some empathy I daresay. If you write your letter I will ensure it is delivered to Lady Alberta, with the request that she read the contents to Sophia and help her to formulate a reply. How will that be, my love?”
Tally beams at me for several moments before launching herself across the table. Her squeals of delight are ample reward for my flash of brilliance. Indeed, I wonder that I did not think of such a remedy for her malaise before now. I should have sent word to my cousin as soon as I became aware of the situation, seeking news of the child, and urging Alberta to take an interest in Sophia’s welfare. Still, I bask in my wife’s gratitude now.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. When is the courier to leave?”
“Tomorrow, at first light. I expect a reply from court within a fortnight.”
“I must write my note quickly then so as not to delay his departure. Would you excuse me, please?”
I could kick myself for not delaying the messenger’s departure, but it is too late now. Tally scurries from the room, and I content myself by looking forward to reaping the full fruits of her gratitude in our chamber later.
Chapter Thirteen
It has been almost three weeks since the courier left for Vienna, and still no word. I am not sure exactly what it is I am expecting, though I have every confidence that Stefan’s cousin will help if he says she will do so. But Lady Alberta may be busy. She will have other duties, other calls on her time.
I lean against the windowsill in our chamber, scanning the distant hillsides for any sign of a rider heading our way. Already the spring grows late, the lush grasses and early summer blooms are splashing their glorious hues over the landscape.
It is beautiful sight and I know I am lucky to be here. I am fortunate indeed to be able to enjoy a fresh spring morning, in the knowledge that my husband is close at hand, my family too. And as I place my palms on my still flat stomach, I give secret thanks to my maker for the new life just blossoming inside me.
I will tell Stefan soon. Today. For now though I hug my joyous news close, knowing that my own burgeoning happiness makes the wait for a reply to my letter yet more poignant.
A knock at the door disturbs me. I bid my visitor to enter. It is Mathilde.
“My lady, his grace has requested that you join him in his solar. At your earliest convenience.”
“I see. Thank you, Mathilde. I will be there presently.”
She bobs her curtsy and scurries off about her business. I collect some embroidery and make my way to the solar on the floor below. I enter, to find Stefan gazing from the window. On this side of the keep, the windows overlook the bailey and practice courtyard where the men at arms are put through their drill each day by Stefan and his knights. From my husband’s intent expression I surmise he must be observing today’s training exercises. He is probably casting an especially critical eye over the performance of two young boys as each vies to outdo the other and gain the praise of
their commander. He turns to me as I approach his side, his smile dazzling.
He never fails to take my breath away, this handsome man of mine.
“My lord, you wished to speak with me?”
“Speak? Yes, I suppose so. Though I would much rather fuck you.”
Ah, one of those conversations. And so early in the day too. How nice.
I glance about me. “We are quite alone, my lord, and I doubt it would take long.”
“You are casting aspersions on my prowess, my lady?”
“As if I would consider such foolhardiness, my lord. I simply thought…”
“I believe I am quite capable of discerning what you simply thought. If you require a spanking may I suggest you come right out and ask for it? I know you too well now to be fooled by all this ‘my lord’ nonsense.”
I lift my chin in a gesture of mock haughtiness. “I was merely being respectful, my lord.”
“Is the door locked?”
I step back to it and slide the bolt home. “It is now, Stefan.”
My husband seats himself on a low, straight-backed chair in the centre of the room. It has no arms, and in normal use I daresay would be somewhat uncomfortable. It is perfect for spanking though.
“I note you refreshed our supply of switches the other day. You will find them in the chest below the window. Select one and bring it to me. Then you may arrange yourself across my lap and raise your skirts.”
I kneel beside the chest and open the lid. There, lying on top of a pile of folded linens, are the half dozen or so switches I cut and brought back from the coppice the day before yesterday. I had wondered where my husband had stored them. This is not a punishment switching so I have no reason to fear his treatment of me this morning. And of course there is also the matter of my delicate condition. I select the switch that seems to me to be most supple, most likely to deliver a sweet, sharp bite, then I close the lid and stand up to pass the instrument to Stefan.
He gestures to me to get into position, so I waste no time in doing so. The cool draught of air across my naked buttocks is an exhilarating precursor to a spanking, and over recent months I have come to love that sensation. I sigh my contentment as Stefan palms my soft flesh, sensitising my skin in readiness. I wrap my fingers around the front leg of his chair and lift up my bottom, adopting just the pose I know he likes without his even needing to instruct me nowadays.
“Are you ready, Tally?”
“Yes, my lord. Perfectly ready. But there is something you should perhaps know before we start.”
“And what is that, my love?”
“I believe I am pregnant.”
“Believe?”
“My courses are late.”
“How late?”
“Almost three weeks, my lord.”
“And you only now think to mention this, when you are poised across my lap, your gorgeous bottom raised for my punishment?”
“I intended to tell you today, Stefan. Does it make a difference? To my spanking, I mean?”
“It makes a difference to me. Until I have considered this matter and concluded how I might best spank you without fear of harming you or our child, I prefer to settle for fucking you instead.”
“I believe that might be an acceptable alternative, my lord. And since my skirts are already raised perhaps you might like to remain seated as you are and I will straddle you.”
“A delightful notion, but that would be you fucking me I fear.”
“Does it really matter, Stefan?” I twist on his lap until I am upright, facing him, my legs spread wide on either side of his. I lift his linen tunic to reach the fastenings on his chausses and undo those in one practised move.
“I daresay it does not. Not in the grand scheme of things. Tell me, when did you become so shameless?”
“The day you married me, my lord.”
I shift, lifting my body to position his cock at my entrance, then sink down onto him. My quim is already drenched from the near spanking, but the friction is still intense. Still quite, quite sublime.
“God’s bones, woman. That feels so damn good.” Stefan’s sexy voice has dropped an octave or two, his face now buried in the hollow of my neck.
“It does, my lord. It truly does. Now be still and allow me to conclude our business.”
I am amazed that he does, after a fashion. It does not take long, and ten minutes later I am snuggled on his knee, my cheek against his chest as I listen to the wondrous sound of his heartbeat.
“May I return to my embroidery now, my lord?”
“All in good time. You distracted me. You may be surprised to learn that I did not summon you here just because I wanted to fuck my wife. Sorry, be fucked by my wife, delightful as that was.”
“No, my lord? Did you have some other matter you wanted to raise with me then?”
“I did. The courier has returned from Vienna.”
I sit bolt upright, almost crashing the top of my head into Stefan’s chin. “What? I did not know that. I have been watching for him.”
“Have a care, my sweet, lest you do me some injury. Neither of us would wish that, I am sure. He arrived while the household was still abed. You are eager for news then? Perhaps a reply from Sophia?”
“Was there any news, my lord? A letter for me?”
He shakes his head. “No letter, just documents from the emperor, all addressed to me. Matters he has agreed I am well placed to take care of. One of those matters will be of particular interest to you though, I suspect.”
“What matter is that, Stefan?”
He stands and settles me back on my feet. “Come, I will show you.”
I take his hand and he leads me from the room. I follow him down the narrow stairs into the great hall where servants hurry back and forth laden with laundry, fresh rushes for the floors, pails of water. The scene is a familiar one to me nowadays, the daily hustle of a large, busy household. We stop at the foot of the stairs and survey the room.
“Over there. Look.” Stefan points to the far corner where two small figures huddle over something. Mathilde is hovering in attendance. As we approach the group I hear the high-pitched mew of a kitten, followed by girlish giggles. Clare must be playing with one of the children from the village.
“Be gentle, Lady Clare. She is just a baby. And you must share her.” Mathilde’s tone is patient, as ever.
Clare picks up the tiny bundle of fluff and hugs it to her chest, just as she did her doll Mimi on that first morning we spent together. She hands the kitten to her companion, another small girl.
My heart lurches, for in this dim light the second child looks just like… I halt, forget to breathe as I stare at the incredible sight, taking in every familiar feature.
“Sophia! Oh, Sophia, can it be? Is it really…?”
I turn to Stefan, perplexed. Clare’s playmate looks so much like Sophia but it cannot be. Not here. Sophia, my Sophia is in Vienna, in the custody of the court.
“Mama!” The shriek of joy dispels my doubts. However this miraculous state of affairs may have come about, it has happened. The impossible, the wonderful, the truly unimaginable has actually come to pass. Sophia is here in Richtenholst. I drop to my knees in time to catch her as she concludes her headlong flight down the length of the hall. I hug her to me, my tears dampening her soft hair.
“My baby. My beautiful, beautiful baby girl. You are here. I never thought to see you again, yet here you are.”
“Mama, mama, mama,” Sophia’s words are muffled as she buries her face in my chest, her little arms locked tight around my neck. We hang onto each other, and I make myself the silent promise that come what may I will never allow us to be parted again.
When at last I raise my head, it is to see Stefan seated at the high table, Clare standing on the bench at his side. She has his face between her palms and is gazing into his eyes. It’s a staring contest, a game they like to play together. Perhaps distracted by my movement, Stefan turns to me.
“I won. Pa
pa, I won.”
“I know, sweetheart. You did well. Could you teach the game to Sophia now, do you think?”
Clare hops down from the bench and comes over to Sophia and me. She takes Sophia’s hand and I let her go with reluctance. The pair of them head off to toward the staircase. They seat themselves on the bottom step and are soon locked in earnest conversation.
“Tally, come here.” Stefan is still lounging at the high table, but his expression is anything but casual. I walk toward him, my head buzzing with questions.
Why is Sophia at Richtenholst?
How did she get here?
How can I ensure that she never leaves?
Stefan calls out to Mathilde, still hovering in the corner. The servant is as confused as I am. Almost.
“Would you get her grace a drink, please? Some mead, perhaps. Or a little wine. We will watch the children.”
That habitual bob, and she is gone, scurrying in the direction of the kitchen, no doubt to consult with Helena on my bizarre behaviour. Still dazed, I take a seat beside Stefan.
He reaches for my hand, and for the first time I realise it is shaking.
“From that display I assume you are pleased to see the newest addition to our family. Not counting this little one, naturally.” He pats my stomach, then leans in to kiss my forehead.
“Our family?” Not eloquent, but I am doing my best.
“Yes. I petitioned the emperor for custody of Lady Sophia, which he has graciously granted to me.”
“But, why…?”
“Why not? I am head of a noble house; she will be well cared for here at Richtenholst.”
“You are being uncharacteristically obtuse, my lord. I mean, why did you petition the emperor?”
“It took me a while to come to terms with the notion, I confess. My hostility toward her father runs deep, but I believe I have arrived at the correct solution for us all. I did not wish to mention my intentions to you, I wanted to be sure I could gain custody of the child before raising your hopes. I was confident, my influence at court is not inconsiderable, but the history between my house and that of the late count de Chapelle is known so I had to convince the emperor that my intentions were altruistic. My reputation is honourable enough, but until the courier arrived just before dawn with the documents, and of course Sophia, I could not be certain of the outcome.”
The Conquered Brides Collection Page 36
