Renaissance Discipline

by Renee Rose

  "Yes, I would love to," she said, excited by the idea of a daylong ride with him.

  He stood and offered his arm again. She pulled him to the greenhouse, where Lucia had planted various cuttings from their father's vineyard, then to the actual winery. He inspected everything with a thoroughness that wasn't surprising. Tomi knew everything there was to know about making fine wines. The count's success at luring him away from her father was a real coup.

  "Celia, may I ask you a question?"

  "Of course."

  "Does the count know about your and Lucia's little seduction of me in Florence?"

  She swallowed. "Yes." She'd lost more than a little sleep wondering what Tomi thought of her after that. She could be bold and impulsive at times, and those were the traits that caused her many regrets. Like losing her maidenhead to the Duke of Tuscany. But she didn't completely regret her brazen seduction of Tomi, the object of all her youthful affections. And she couldn't forget what he had told her at the time – that he would have married her to save her when she discovered she was pregnant with the Duke's child. For the hundredth time, she felt relief again that her reputation had been saved by a miscarriage.

  But Tomi had stiffened as a result of her affirmative answer. Tension radiating from him. "Did he...send you to do that?" he choked.

  She gave a short bark of mirthless laughter. "No, certainly not. We didn't sit down for days after he got through with us."

  A little of the tension left Tomi.

  "But his anger with us didn't stop him from using the information to get the best of Papa." She couldn't keep a little gloating out of her voice.

  Tomi stopped walking and turned to her, holding her shoulders. "Look, Celia. I know you're angry at your father, and I understand why. But I assure you, he is hurting, too. I don't think the House of Parma should set itself against Dante Winery. I think you should work toward reconciliation."

  Her face grew hot, and she pulled out of his grasp. "Tomi, I told you what happened to me after he threw me out on the street without a florin. And you saw the way he treated me in Florence! The count tried to speak to him on my behalf, and he wouldn't hear it. You know, you were there. So don't tell me to work toward reconciliation. I'm not the one who has shut every door."

  "Relax, Celia." Tomi held up his hands. "I'm not judging. I care about you both; that's all."

  She glared at him, her breath coming faster than usual.

  "Come on, cara mia," he coaxed.

  She looked at him sulkily, but her anger receded as she took in his handsome, friendly face. He held out his arm again and raised his eyebrows expectantly. She sighed, rolled her eyes and took the arm, walking with him back to the villa.

  "So, about that little seduction..."

  Oh dear. She had hoped they were off that topic.

  "Yes?"

  "Is that something you and Lucia have…er…practiced before?"

  She hesitated. Her heart picked up speed again. She didn't want to tell him that she occasionally shared the count with her sister. Nor did she want to lie to Tomi. She cared about him too much for that. "Not that exact routine, no," she managed finally.

  "What routine have you practiced?" His voice sounded dangerously quiet.

  Oh God. She swallowed. She looked out to the vineyards. A cold winter wind made her shiver, and Tomi shrugged off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, turning her to face him. He raised his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer.

  To hell with it.

  She looked him straight in the eye and flashed her biggest smile. "We've always been good about sharing, you know."

  Tomi's face darkened, and a muscle clenched in his jaw. "The count, you mean?"

  When she nodded, he looked away and quickened their pace without another word. A defensive wave of bitterness swelled over her. He may not judge her for the Duke of Tuscany, but he certainly judged her for this. Well, to hell with Tomi. She didn't need him, anyway.

  * * *

  He knew it. There was something going on between the count and Celia. With Lucia's full knowledge and permission, obviously. He felt sickened. He wished to the devil he had not come to Parma. It was difficult not to hate the count now. Sitting in his windowsill, staring out at the starless black sky, he felt the fresh pain of leaving Don Edoardo, who'd been like a father to him.

  Well, he'd made his bed, he would have to lie in it. He went to sleep, resolved to throw himself into his work. Part of the count's generous compensation offer had been profit sharing, and he was determined to earn it. He had saved every florin he'd earned with Don Edoardo, and with the additional profit sharing, he may soon have enough to purchase his own small property and earn his freedom from all masters.

  By morning, his usual temperament had returned, and he was able to greet the count and the ladies at the breakfast table cheerfully. Almost. "Buon giorno, my lord, ladies."

  "Buon giorno, Tomi. How did you find your chambers?" Lucia asked.

  "Most accommodating, my lady, thank you." He flashed her a smile. Indeed, he was honored he had been given a chamber in the same upstairs quarters as the family and was also expected to dine with them. The respect and status they'd offered gratified him.

  Celia glanced at him with a pleasant look on her face, but said nothing. Well, that was fine with him. He needed to get some distance from her if he was going to be happy here. Getting acquainted with the serving girls in the villa would make him far happier. He made it his goal to have a roll in the hay with one by the end of the week. That would restore his spirits like nothing else.

  "I will introduce you to your staff today," the count said. "Well, I will introduce you to Enzo, who has been acting as steward here until now, and he can introduce the rest."

  Tomi raised his eyebrows. "How does Enzo feel about his demotion?"

  The count smiled wryly. "I think he's relieved. He knew he was in over his head."

  As the count had predicted, Enzo did not mind giving the reins over to Tomi in the least, and he proved to be an amiable companion. He worked with Enzo that week, familiarizing himself with procedures and observing. He saw things he would like to change, but he wanted to get a good sense of the way things were working before he started implementing anything new.

  Tomi truly loved his work, and appreciated the way the count paid him such respect, trusting him with the full control of the operation and providing him with a staff of able workers. He made it his goal to get the most profit out of the operation he possibly could.

  As for attaining his other goal, there were plenty of pretty girls in the household staff, and he made the friendly acquaintance of all of them, laying the groundwork for his pursuits. He saw little of Celia, which was odd, but he was grateful for it, as the thought of her with the count still made his gut clench in a most unpleasant fashion. By the end of the week, he had selected his target, or perhaps, it was better to say that she had selected him. Her name was Alessandra, and she was quite forward with her attentions. She had brought him a warm drink, seeking him out near the greenhouse.

  "Thank you, Alessandra, that was very kind of you." He took the drink. It was raining again, a cold winter rain that had soaked the soil and now ran off in rivulets, wrecking the structure of the berms around the grape plants.

  "Well, we wouldn't want you to catch cold out here, signore," she said with a flirtatious smile. She was pretty enough, with the advantage of youth and good health. The real attraction was that she was the kind of girl who looked like she would really enjoy a good roll in the hay.

  "I appreciate that, Alessandra."

  She glanced behind him. "Perhaps we should go in the greenhouse instead of standing here in the rain?"

  He grinned at her. "Excellent idea. Do you have a little time to spare?"

  She looked at him conspiratorially. "I have at least an hour this time of day, most days."

  "Well, we should put it to good use then, shouldn't we?"

  He opened the door for her and led her in.
As he went to shut it behind them, he caught sight of a flash of red hair, and his pulse quickened, as it always did when he thought Celia was in sight. He opened the door back up to look again. It was Celia, and she had stopped still in the rain and was staring right at him. Had she seen him leading Alessandra in? His chest stiffened. Well, who cared if she had? It wasn't like she had any interest in him, and she ought to be used to his behavior, having spent ten years living under the same roof as him. Still, he felt a little pang, and tumbling Alessandra suddenly didn't seem like it would be nearly as satisfying as he had hoped.

  Chapter Two

  Damn Tomaso Turia, anyway! She didn't know why it bothered her to see him slipping into the greenhouse with a servant girl. It was his way, after all. It was nothing new. But for some reason, it ate her up. Perhaps because he had judged her for her own recreation. Wasn't that the pot calling the kettle black?

  A wicked thought crossed her mind, and she smiled. She would have a little fun with Tomi. She marched to the kitchen, finding Angelina, the cook's pretty, but sour, assistant. She'd already seen Tomi flirt with her as well.

  "Angelina?"

  "My lady?" Although the words were respectful, the tone held contempt.

  "Signore Turia was asking about you. He seemed quite interested."

  Angelina blushed. "In truth?"

  "Yes. He told me if I saw you, to ask if you might visit him in the greenhouse." She waggled her eyebrows.

  Angelina blushed some more.

  "Anyway, just thought I would give you the message," she said airily and left the room.

  After that, she sought out Katia, a housemaid she'd also seen Tomi flirt with that week. She delivered a similar message to her. It took her a little longer to find her third target, Sandine, another housemaid, but she found her upstairs straightening Tomi's room. It made for a perfect opening.

  "Signore Turia told me he was quite pleased with how you've been keeping his room."

  "He did?" the girl said eagerly. After all, who could resist Tomi's charm and good looks? Every girl in the villa had been whispering about him since he arrived.

  "Yes. I think he's taken a fancy to you."

  "Oh no, my lady." She blushed.

  Celia shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I think so. Anyway, he was asking about you, and he said if you have a chance, feel free to visit him in the greenhouse this morning. If you wanted to take a quick break from this, I'm sure the countess wouldn't object."

  Sandine looked uncertain. "The countess may not object, but my mistress, Josefina, certainly would."

  Celia looked around for Josefina. "If I see her, I will tell her I sent you to run a quick errand for me." She gave the girl a wink. "No worries."

  Sandine stood and bobbed a quick curtsy. "Thank you, my lady," she said excitedly and skipped out of the room.

  Celia sat down on Tomi's bed, breathing the scent of him. A pang of remorse crept in. Not for Tomi, but for the girls. It was cruel, really, to make fools of them all that way. She hoped it was Tomi who felt the fool, and not the girls.

  Deciding it might be best to be out of the way for the next hour or so, she went down to the women's bath, took off her clothes, and stepped in. The count's villa was old, but he had upgraded to all the amenities, including raised marble floors with heated water running underneath. The bath was deliciously warm, like the public baths of Rome, and it felt like heaven on a cold and rainy day. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink completely under, enjoying the relaxation the warm water encouraged and trying to forget her nagging conscience, which told her she'd been too impulsive again.

  * * *

  He had Alessandra bent over a rough wooden plank and was driving into her, almost to climax, when Katia, one of the pretty housemaids he'd been flirting with, surprised them.

  "Oh," she exclaimed, her hand covering her mouth in shock. "Oh."

  He hoped she would turn around and leave quickly, so he could recover the moment and finish before Alessandra changed her mind, but she simply stood there, staring at him with wide eyes. The door opened a second time, and Angelina, a girl from the kitchens, bumped into Katia. "What in the hell?" Angelina said, staring with more fury than shock.

  Conceding that the moment was most certainly lost, he flipped the mortified Alessandra's skirts back down and fastened his pants, tucking his shirt in.

  "What's going on, girls?" he asked in as casual a tone as he could manage.

  The door opened a third time, and in came Sandine, the housemaid who cleaned his room. "Signore?" She'd worn an eager look on her face when she came in, but as she looked around at the other women in the room, it turned to confusion.

  "Yes?"

  "Did you send for me?"

  It was his turn for confusion. "Send for you? No, Sandine. Who said I sent for you?"

  "Lady Celia, signore."

  At that, Angelina's scowl grew even angrier. "Lady Celia sent me as well." She put her hands on her hips. "Did you not ask me to meet you here?"

  "Ah." He instantly understood what had happened. That little hellcat. "I'm afraid there's been a bit of a misunderstanding." Still hoping this situation might be recoverable, he went for humble honesty. "I believe Lady Celia meant to embarrass me at my game." He went for a sheepish look. "And I am terribly embarrassed. I hope you can forgive my weakness for pretty girls. Lady Celia knows me too well, and I imagine she hoped to turn you all against me. It hasn't worked, has it?" he asked with his best puppy dog pleading eyes.

  Angelina's scowl softened into a small grin. He had taken the right approach with her – she wouldn't want Celia to win at any game. "We forgive you," she said with a little smile. The other three girls weren't quite as sure, but Angelina had a forceful personality. "We know we are hard to resist." She gave a playful toss of her hair. The other girls giggled a little.

  He made a big show of looking relieved. "Thank you, girls. I'm so sorry. It's true, I simply find each of you enchanting."

  Alessandra gave him a shove, but it was mostly playful, and the four girls left the greenhouse, muttering a little, but in a lighthearted way.

  Alone, he gritted his teeth. Celia was going to pay. He stalked out of the greenhouse toward the villa. He caught sight of Ana, an older maid who served Lucia and Celia. "Have you seen Celia?"

  "Yes, sir, I just left her a clean linen in the women's bath."

  Tomi waited until Ana had departed, then he veered directly for the baths. He found Celia alone. And naked.

  His blood rushed to his cock. He ignored it, determined to follow through with giving Celia hell. "Celia Dante," he snapped. "What game are you playing?"

  Celia gave a tiny shriek and lowered herself so the waterline covered her breasts.

  He shouldn't be in the women's baths. Certainly not when a lady of the villa stood naked in them. But nothing would deter him from his purpose. "Answer me," he barked. Somehow, he managed to keep his eyes on her face and not on the beautiful breasts bobbing just below the water's surface.

  She looked up at him and smirked. "How did it go with dear Alessandra?"

  He pulled off his boots and lifted his lower pant legs, stalking over to sit at to the edge of the bath with his feet in the warm water. "Get over here."

  Surprisingly, she obeyed, drifting closer to the edge near him. Quickly, before she realized what he had in mind, he snatched her arm and hauled her out of the water and up over one knee, folding her torso over the edge of the bath to rest on the tile.

  She shrieked again, laughing as he began to slap her wet bottom. She giggled through the first ten slaps or so, then started to struggle more urgently. "Ouch...ow. Tomi," she protested.

  He continued on, smacking her with his full strength, punishing her delicious bare bottom with all the force of his irritation. He enjoyed the sound of his palm meeting her wet flesh, the sight of the pink prints he painted on her arse.

  "Ow...all right. Tomi! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Her pleading only increased his satisfaction in spanking her. She
was probably starting to feel the intensity of the burn, if the stinging in his palm was any indication. Her bottom began to hold the pink. Her lovely wriggling aroused him, which only served to fuel his irritation, as he wanted her and she wasn't his for the taking.

  "You will be sorry," he growled. He continued spanking her hard and fast, over and over again. He spanked because of his disappointment that she was unavailable to him. For the pain he had caused Don Edoardo. For the misery his new life would be, watching her play her games with the count, day after day. He spanked her for ruining his own chances of enjoying a little pleasure with a pretty girl. He spanked until his arm grew tired and his hand was burning.

  Only then did he realize Celia was not struggling or protesting anymore. She lay limp, panting over his knees. Her porcelain white skin was crimson where he had punished her, with deep, angry blotches and places where the skin stood out puffy. Oh God. He had no right, really, and he'd punished her way more than he had intended.

  He pushed her gently to stand in the water, and she did not sink below the surface this time, but just stood before him, her eyes lowered, her lips trembling, tears glinting on her eyelashes. He felt a wave of some unnamed emotion sweep through him. When he'd been spanking her, he'd been thinking of her laughing, mocking him. He never imagined she would surrender like this. The responsibility he'd taken up by choosing to punish her himself weighed on him.

  "I hope you enjoyed your little tryst," she spat, tears falling down her cheeks.

  He froze. Was her bitterness over the tryst or the spanking he'd just given her? He lowered himself to stand in the water with her, cradling her shoulders in his hands. She still did not lift her eyes to his.

  Her beautiful red hair floated on the water's surface, and her peach-tipped breasts glistened wet and more intoxicating than any he had ever seen. She was more perfect than he had ever imagined – all the times he had undressed her in his mind. He stepped closer. Taking hold of her face, he tipped it gently up, meeting her lips with his. He advanced slowly, giving her every chance to pull away.