Unwilling Bride

by Joannie Kay

  other livestock." He didn't give her a chance to respond, but left the house by way of the kitchen door.

  Bridget looked at the pile on the table, took a deep breath, then

  calmly went into the parlor and found a soft chair to sit on. She

  didn't dare give in to Will this first time, or he would think he

  could boss her around whenever he felt like it. He would soon

  see that having full-time help was the easiest way to get along!

  Will tended the team, knowing full well he was going to have

  another battle with the redhead the minute he went back to the

  house. She was spoiled and used to having her own way, but he

  knew better than to let her get away with defying him. He was

  going to have to give her another lesson, and while he wasn't

  looking forward to it, he knew it was necessary. Once his

  animals were al cared for, Will went into the tack room and

  found exactly what he was looking for, a small riding whip that

  had been left behind when one of his sisters visited last summer.

  It would be perfect for the lesson he intended to give his new

  bride.

  Bridget looked up and her mouth fell open in dismay when she

  saw the riding whip in Will's hand. "No! You wouldn't!" she immediately protested before he said a word.

  "You defied me, Bridget, and I won't have it. It's best you learn that right now." He crossed the room to stand in front of her.

  Bridget shrank into the chair. "Please don't. I'll go and put the supplies away! And I'll even cook!" she capitulated.

  "Yes, you will do both," he agreed, "after I give you a good sharp lesson in obedience."

  He pulled her from the chair, then turned her around and said,

  "Lean over and put your hands on the seat," he ordered.

  "Please, Will! Don't do this! Give me another chance! Please!"

  "I am giving you a chance to keep your bottom covered, Bridget.

  Any more arguing and you will bare yourself."

  Bridget looked at him, and felt her eyes fill with tears she refused to shed. Slowly she turned around, then placed her hands on the

  seat of the chair. "This is not necessary, Will! I said I would do as you said!"

  "It is necessary, Bridget, or I wouldn't be doing it. You will learn to obey me, and we will start with lesson one right now. You are

  going to receive six, and you will count each one and thank me!"

  He raised the leather whip and brought it smartly across the seat

  of her britches.

  "OWWWWWWW!" Bridget immediately straightened up, and

  rubbed furiously at the sting.

  "Bridget," Will said patiently. "If you do not stay in place and count them, then they do not count. We will start again."

  "No, please! You caught me by surprise! I didn't know it would hurt so much! That was one, Will. Thank you!" She hurried back into place, turning up her bottom and placing her hands on the

  seat of the chair.

  "Very well, I'll accept it this one time," he agreed. "But if you rise again, or fail to count and thank me, we will start over. Is that

  perfectly clear?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  Will gave her another stroke, just below the last one, and Bridget stayed in place this time, even though her right foot came off the floor.

  "That was two. Thank you."

  Will gave her another, across the place where her bottom and

  thighs met, and Bridget screeched in pain.

  "Ohhhhhhhh! Ouch! That hurts so much! Three, Will. Thank you, but no more, please!!"

  Will raised the whip and landed a stinging lash on her right

  cheek.

  "OWWWWWWW! Four. Thank you! Please stop! I'l do what you

  say from now on, Will, I promise!"

  He struck her left cheek.

  "Noooooooooo! Oh please!!!!!!!!!! No more! That was number

  five. Thank you. I 'm sorry!"

  "One more, Bridget, and then you will take yourself into the

  kitchen and get busy."

  "I will! I promise!" she tearfully exclaimed, then tensed her bottom waiting for the blow to fall. She waited and waited, then

  when she finally relaxed, Will brought the small whip across her

  bottom with a splat! "OWWWWWWWWW! Six Thank you!"

  Will helped her to rise, then asked softly, "Are you done testing me for today, Mrs. Bishop?"

  Bridget nodded tearfully, and when he let go of her arm she

  headed for the kitchen and starting putting away the supplies,

  sniffling quietly. Her poor bottom was aching, and she simply

  didn't know what to do! One thing was sure and certain; she

  wasn't going to let Will Bishop treat her like that ever again! She was going to run away the first chance she got!

  Chapter Two

  Will Bishop kept a watchful eye over his new bride as she put

  away the supplies, noting with some amusement that she

  stopped every so often to rub her stinging bottom. "It stings, doesn’t it, Mrs. Bishop?"

  Bridget turned to face the aggravating man, her green eyes

  flashing in temper. "Yes, it stings! I hope you’re satisfied, Will Bishop!"

  "Pouting is normal after a good spanking, I guess," Will leveled his blue eyes on her and regarded her soberly, "just don’t let it go on too long, Bridget."

  "I am not pouting!" she stomped her foot in denial, her red curls bouncing.

  "If you’re not pouting, then you’re having a tantrum, and I won’t tolerate tantrums, young lady." He smiled, and asked quietly,

  "Are you having a tantrum?"

  Bridget wanted to throw something at him, but the stinging in her

  backside was intense enough to caution her to control her

  temper. She absolutely would not give him another reason to

  spank her! "I’m not having a tantrum," she managed to reply in an even tone of voice. Neither her father nor her brothers would

  have been fooled by the out and out lie, but then, they weren’t

  the ones she was facing!

  "I’m glad to hear that, Bridget," Will said tongue-in-cheek. "I would real y hate to have to spank you again so soon." He

  watched Bridget’s eyes flash, and then smiled when she

  controlled her inclination to throw the new tin of salve at his

  head. "Do you like fried ham?" he changed the subject to one of food.

  "I can eat almost anything," she answered. "Is that what you want for supper?"

  "Anything fast," he replied honestly. "I’m hungry, and I’ve eaten since you have, I’m sure."

  Bridget was surprised and her expression showed it. "I am

  hungry," she admitted. "And fried ham sounds good."

  "I’ll slice off a few pieces then, and you can peel some potatoes,"

  he suggested.

  "Okay," she agreed, looking at the man with interest. He was every bit as big as her brother Tom; well over six feet tall, broad shouldered, and muscular, and he didn’t seem to mind doing

  what her father and brothers referred to as "women’s work"! His coal black hair was in need of a good cutting, in her opinion, but he kept it neatly tied back with a leather thong. All in all, Will Bishop was a very handsome man! If only he wasn’t so darn

  bossy! she added, reminding herself that she didn’t intend to stay here any longer than it took for her to make her escape.

  For someone who "didn’t" cook, Bridget was peeling potatoes with an expertise that only comes with practice, and when she

  found an onion and peeled and sliced it to add to the potatoes,

  he knew she’d been fibbing to him about doing wifely chores.

  She made short work of placing the ham in a large iron skillet,

  then went and found a jar of green beans and o
pened them to

  heat through in a small pan. While these items were cooking,

  she found dishes and set the table, then sliced off a few pieces

  of the bread Will bought in town.

  "I don’t like fibs and lies, Bridget," Will finally commented, then added, "It’s long past time someone took you in hand!"

  "I don’t lie or fib, Will Bishop!" an indignant Bridget put her hands on her hips and turned to glare at him.

  "For someone who told me she can’t cook, you sure as heck

  know your way around a kitchen!" he accused.

  "I didn’t say I couldn’t cook!" she corrected him. "I said I don’t cook! There is a big difference!" she defended herself.

  Will looked at her for a few moments, then smiled. "You are right, Mrs. Bishop. There is a big difference." He chuckled, then left the kitchen to return a few minutes later with a soft, fluffy pillow,

  which he placed on one of the chairs at the table. "For your sore bottom," he told her, then chuckled again when she blushed a

  fiery red.

  Bridget briefly considered throwing the wooden spoon she was

  stirring the green beans with at his handsome head. "I don’t like being made fun of!" she stated flatly.

  "I’m not making fun of you, Bridget. I’m actually trying to show you that I’m not the ogre you think I am. However, if I find it

  necessary to put you over my knee again anytime soon, you

  won’t be allowed the use of a pillow on your seat."

  "I think spanking a grown woman is despicable!"

  "I think spanking a grown woman who acts like a spoiled child is necessary."

  "Will, this marriage is a farce! We are nothing alike! Give me a horse and let me go back to my father’s, please!" she attempted to reason with him.

  "Maybe this marriage didn’t start off the way most do, Mrs.

  Bishop, but the fact remains, we are married, for better or worse, and that is the way it is. You aren’t going back to your father, or anywhere else for that matter."

  "You can’t watch me twenty-four hours a day!" she hissed.

  "No, but I can track with the best of them, and when I catch up to you, you’ll wish to God I hadn’t," he told her, then walked over to her chair and removed the pillow. "And that sassy attitude has cost you the use of a pillow."

  "You are mean and hateful, Will Bishop, and I rue the day I ever set eyes on you!"

  "You are spoiled and willful, Bridget Bishop; for some reason I cannot begin to understand, I’ve been given the taming and care

  of you; so rue it or not, little girl, you will learn to obey me!"

  Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, and Bridget cursed

  herself for being the first to look away, even though the potatoes did need her immediate attention! She busied herself taking up

  the food and placing it on the table, then filled a plate for herself and carried it across the room to put it on the marble counter of

  the cupboard.

  Will wasn’t about to let her get away with snubbing him. He

  calmly walked over, picked up her plate, took her wrist in his

  other hand, and pulled her over to the table. He put her plate on

  the table, and then said quietly, "You will sit at the table to eat your meals, Bridget."

  "I don’t feel like sitting," she said truthfully.

  "I’m sure you don’t," he agreed, then said firmly, "but you will sit."

  "May I please have the pillow?" she asked hopefully.

  "Nope. You lost the pillow with that sassy mouth of yours," he replied. "Now sit down and eat your supper while the food is still hot."

  Bridget wanted to defy him, but her stomach was rumbling, and

  she was too hungry to argue. She carefully lowered herself onto

  the seat of the wooden chair, and was shocked to discover how

  truly sore she was! She got up again and looked accusingly at

  Will. "I can’t sit down!"

  "Bridget, you can and will sit."

  He gave her another one of his "looks", and Bridget carefully lowered herself to the seat again. She picked up her fork,

  determined to eat as quickly as possible, but al she could do

  was squirm in a relentless attempt to find a spot that wasn’t too

  tender to sit upon.

  Will was genuinely pleased when he tasted the food. Bridget was

  a good cook, and he was satisfied with her first efforts. "This is really good, Bridget," he complimented her, then noticed she

  hadn’t touched her food, and that she was trying to hide the fact

  she was crying from him.

  He suddenly felt like an ass. Maybe he had been too hard on

  her. Making a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret later, he got

  up and retrieved the pillow from the parlor, then returned. He

  pulled her up from her chair, then plopped the pillow on the seat.

  "See if this helps a bit, Red. You need to eat something."

  Bridget tried sitting again, and although her poor bottom still hurt dreadfully, the pillow did supply a small amount of relief. "Thank you, Will," she managed to whisper over the lump in her throat.

  "Try to eat," he ordered gently, and was relieved when she managed to put some food in her mouth.

  Bridget really made an effort to sit still, but it was impossible. Her backside still hurt, and even though Will had relented and let her have the pillow, she had no intention of forgiving him for

  spanking her! It was reprehensible!

  Will ate in silence, noticing each and every time the little redhead squirmed, and feeling guiltier with each passing minute. He

  couldn’t remember his sisters ever making such a fuss over a

  little spanking, but then they weren’t as fair-skinned as his

  Bridget, and they’d been spanked fairly often growing up.

  The meal was soon finished, and Bridget couldn’t wait to get up

  off the chair to do the clean up required to put the kitchen right once again. She was amazed when Will helped her to do the

  dishes, drying them and putting them away.

  "It’s time for bed, Bridget," he stated matter-of-factly.

  Bridget gasped in alarm, for the first time realizing that this was her wedding night, and that Will Bishop would be expecting---!

  No! she told herself, this simply couldn’t be happening to her!

  This day had steadily gone from bad to worse, and with the

  spankings and her very sore bottom occupying her mind; she

  hadn’t given the coming night a single thought. There was no

  way she was going to crawl submissively into bed and let this

  man have his way with her!

  Will shook his head, clearly reading the frightened expression in

  her lovely eyes. "It’s too soon for what you’re thinking about, Mrs. Bishop. You needn’t fear I’ll force myself on you."

  Bridget nodded in relief, although her cheeks were stained with

  embarrassment. "You have two bedrooms, then?" she asked

  hopefully.

  "No, just one."

  "Then I’ll sleep on the sofa in the parlor," she decided.

  "No, you’ll sleep in the bedroom on the bed," he corrected her.

  "Then you will sleep on the sofa?" she questioned.

  "We will share the bed, Bridget," he smiled. "I give you my word you’ll be safe." Before she could reply, he picked up the lamp and led her through the house and into the bedroom. He

  rummaged in the bottom drawer of his chest and came up with a

  lace trimmed, white nightshirt, which he tossed on the bed. "This should work for you tonight, Bridget. My sister, Connie, left it

  here when she visited a couple of months ago. You two are

  about the same size. She’s only thirteen," he grinned teasingly.

  "I am bigger than a child!" Bridge
t retorted.

  "Not much," he insisted, then headed for the doorway. "You go ahead and change and get into bed on your tummy. Leave off

  the under things. I’m going to get some salve for your sore butt."

  "What? You can’t be serious! You surely don’t expect me to---!"

  Bridget turned to find she was talking to an empty room. "He can fry ice!" she muttered angrily, removing her boots, socks, pants, and shirtwaist. She left on her drawers and her camisole top,

  then crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

  Will returned in a few minutes with some burn salve that his

  mother made and gave to him on his last visit home; he hoped it

  would ease some of the pain Bridget was feeling. He shook his

  head in amusement when he realized she had pulled the covers

  over her head in an attempt to hide from him. What would she

  think of next? he wondered. He reached down, grabbed the top

  of the blankets and gave them a tug, successfully pulling them

  down to the foot of the bed.

  "What are you doing?" Bridget screeched, scrambling up on her knees to glare at him.

  "Trying to help you, Mrs. Bishop," he answered patiently. "Now pull up that gown and lie down so I can attend you."

  "No! I won’t do it!" she declared.

  "Then I guess I didn’t spank you as hard as I thought I did and maybe you need another lesson in obedience?" he replied,

  tossing the tin on the bed and reaching for her.

  "No!" she quickly hopped off the bed to stand on the other side, effectively using the bed as a barrier between them. "Please

  don’t spank me again, Will!"

  "If you don’t want another spanking, young lady, then you’d

  better do what I told you to do and do it right now." The last thing he wanted to do was punish her again so soon, but he’d be

  damned if he was going to permit her to defy him and get away

  with it!

  "Couldn’t I please put it on myself?" Bridget hopeful y suggested.

  "No. On the bed now!" he said firmly.

  Bridget looked at him imploringly, but quickly decided that he

  wasn’t going to budge. She eased herself down on the bed, and

  closed her eyes in dread as she felt him tug up her nightdress.

  "I thought I told you to take off your drawers?"

  "Ohhhh! I—I—I forgot!" she fibbed.

  "Take them down, Bridget," he ordered softly. "I am not out to hurt you, but to ease your pain a bit."