He brushed the memory aside, refusing to allow it entry, but as he made his way down the stairs he could not disperse it. The little minx was getting under his skin.
He opened the door to the dining room and sat at the long table to enjoy luncheon. Still particularly hungry, he rang the little bell by his placing.
‘Here you are, sir,’ said cook, bustling in. ‘Some lovely oxtail soup, and I’ll be bringing you some pâté when you’re done with that.’
She was a merry, overweight woman, with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes and a cheery word for everyone. She looked around, clearly puzzled. ‘Won’t Miss Elizabeth be joining you, sir?’ she asked.
‘No, cook,’ he said, shaking his head, and cook frowned and waited. ‘As a matter of fact, I have instructed Miss Elizabeth to dine with you today, in the kitchen,’ he explained. ‘She’s to eat whatever I cannot finish.’
Cook raised her eyebrows in astonishment. ‘Oh, I don’t know if Miss Elizabeth will be pleased with that arrangement, sir,’ she opined. ‘Though I’m very happy to have her, it might—’
He held up his hand with an amiable smile on his face, and she stopped speaking immediately. ‘It’s taken care of, cook. Simply set a place for her. I want you to address her as you would a common girl from the neighbourhood. I simply want to teach her a little humility, that’s all. Will you help?’
Cook rocked back her happy round face, and laughed out loud. ‘Why sir, I’d be delighted,’ she boomed heartily. ‘A little humility is just what that little madam needs, if you don’t mind my saying so, sir. I’d be happy to do my bit, sir. Very happy indeed. When should I expect her little highness to dine with me?’
She shook a little as she chuckled at her own slightly derisive quip, and Lord Michael smiled warmly. The woman was a gem.
‘I suspect in about forty-five minutes or so,’ he told her.
‘Very well, sir,’ she said, winking, ‘and I’ll be out with your pâté in a few ticks, sir.’
‘Thank you, cook,’ he replied. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’
He settled down to the soup she’d served, and found the hot rich broth delicious and comforting. As he looked at the empty place across from him, he had to admit he missed having Elizabeth nearby. Damn, but she was a delightful temptress and no mistake.
Meanwhile, at the backdoor Elizabeth had just finished cleaning his boots. There was dirt under her fingernails, but she was too generally bedraggled to care. She placed Smithy’s cleaning supplies neatly back in the box, exactly as she had found them, then returned it to the cupboard. It did not occur to her that she was being so diligent because it was the right thing to do, nor did she ponder the thought of further punishment if she left a mess. She was too tired to consider that she never put things away after her, that it had always been someone else’s job to run around in her wake.
As she placed Lord Michael’s boots against the wall, beneath the hat rack, she actually smiled with pride. They positively shone with lustre, and she congratulated herself on a job very well done.
She could now, finally, go up to her room and soak away her aches in a steaming hot tub.
She trudged to the back stairs and went up them as fast as her weary bones would allow. The pain from the switch had eased, and as soon as she made her way into the bedroom she began peeling off her dishevelled and grubby clothes. By the time she was in her bathroom she was already undressed, and she turned on the taps full force. She lovingly eyed the hot, steaming water, willing it to fill the tub quickly. She threw in some scented oil, and before the bath was even half full she gingerly lowered herself in.
The punished flesh of her bottom protested and she winced slightly, then sighed as she sunk down, and laying her head back, closed her eyes, listening to the comforting sound of the running water. Never before had a bath felt so good. Poor Smithy, she thought; she had gathered only one load of wood and cleaned only one pair of boots, whereas he spent all day every day doing that and more and a million and one other chores around the house and grounds. How on earth did he do it?
With the tub full she leaned forward and turned off the taps. With the cake of soap she began scrubbing her hands and arms, and then scrubbed her nails. It was quite a job, but she managed to get them clean, then she craned back her neck until her head was submerged, and felt her knotty tresses loosen in the freeing movement of the fragrant water. When satisfied she lifted her head, lounged back, closed her eyes, and relaxed.
Her mind drifted to a bitterly cold winter night, snow on the ground outside, a large soft bed, and he was standing over her. The fire danced in the hearth, casting moving shadows around the room, and he leaned down, kissing her gently on the lips.
‘You are a very good girl,’ he said tenderly. ‘You need a firm hand, but you are a very good girl.’
She moaned with pleasure, a shiver ran through her and her eyes popped open. She didn’t know how long she had been there, but now the water was barely warm. She was about to call to Grace when her smarting bottom reminded her that the maid was not available. She also realised she was hungry, so she got out of the tub, dried herself quickly, and wrapped her hair in a towel.
Then she went to her dresser, chose a set of fresh underwear, pulled them on, tying them hurriedly, then opening the door of her wardrobe grabbed the first thing she saw. It was a very simple white cotton frock.
Unwrapping the damp towel she then ran a brush through her hair to clear any tangles. Normally she would have spent an age making sure it was just right, but on this occasion vanity was the last thing on her mind.
Finally she slipped on a pair of satin slippers.
Almost running along the landing and down the back stairs she exploded into the kitchen, startling cook, who was just putting some dishes away.
‘Heavens, girl!’ she exclaimed. ‘You near gave me a heart attack, bursting in here like that.’
‘I’m so sorry, cook,’ she panted.
Cook almost fell over; in all the years she had worked for the family it was the first time she’d heard the young lady apologise. She would never have spoken to Elizabeth in the manner that she had either, had it not been for Lord Michael’s attitude. Like a common girl from the neighbourhood, he had said. Well, if a common girl from the neighbourhood had come rushing in that way she would have spoken to her exactly as she had. And if cook had known her well, a sharp rap across the knuckles with her wooden spoon would not have been far behind. ‘Sit yourself down then,’ she said, bustling about, removing Elizabeth’s lunch from the stove.
Elizabeth had rarely felt so hungry in her life, and everything she ate tasted delicious, and by the end of the simple meal she was showering cook with compliments.
‘My, you were hungry, Miss Elizabeth,’ said the bustling woman. ‘You’re usually such a picky eater.’
Elizabeth sat back in her chair and sighed. ‘Well, I’ve had quite a busy morning, cook,’ she disclosed.
The ruddy woman suppressed a smile, wondering just what Lord Michael had been up to. ‘His lordship is waiting for you in the sitting room,’ she announced, delivering his message. ‘He wanted to see you after you finished your meal.’
To cook’s surprise the young woman jumped up from the scrubbed pine table, thanked her a second time and left the kitchen, obviously eager not to keep the gentleman waiting.
Lord Michael was resting easily in a capacious armchair, the cool afternoon a perfect excuse for a fire. He had allowed himself the luxury of imagining how sweet it would be to feel Elizabeth’s lissom body laying submissively beside him, but the sound of the sitting room door opening brought him back to the moment. He looked up.
‘My lord,’ Elizabeth said, shyly entering the room. She looked quite angelic in her simple white cotton dress.
‘Come here, Elizabeth,’ he said fondly.
She walked over, instinctively kneeling in front of him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. The fire cast her in a warm glow.
Her h
air, still quite damp, was falling in haphazard ringlets to her shoulders, and the cotton dress showed off her figure enticingly, outlining her nipples. He felt himself stir, and allowed the comfortable silence to hang in the air as he inhaled the fresh scent of her. He adored how she was kneeling before him, her eyes filled with uneasy expectancy.
He gently guided her cheek to rest upon his knee, closed his eyes and stroked her hair. Her lustrous curls wrapped around his fingers, and he couldn’t help but imagine the taking of her maidenhead, feeling himself stir again mere inches from her soft lips.
‘Elizabeth,’ he said, and she raised her head to look at him. ‘Tell me how you feel.’
She thought for a moment, before saying, ‘Full of grace, sir.’
He had asked many women to describe their initial feelings in submission, and had never heard it phrased so eloquently. He reached under her arms and pulled her up onto his lap, and she snuggled into him.
‘That’s very good to know, Elizabeth,’ he whispered.
‘I wish only to please you, sir,’ she replied softly, surprising herself with the sincerity of the response.
He placed a hand under her chin, raising her face. He touched his lips to hers and she quivered, thrilled by the kiss. His lips travelled to her cheek, kissed her lightly a few times, then slowly down to her throat, just beneath her delicate ear, feeling her gentle pulse. She swooned and felt completely breathless, and gasped as she felt a strong hand cup one of her breasts, sending a dizzying chill down her spine, making her tremble.
Reluctantly he moved his hand from her soft breast, and took a deep breath. ‘All right, Elizabeth,’ he said, regaining his composure. ‘Let me take a good look at you. Stand up.’
She had difficulty obeying the instruction. Her knees were weak and she felt quite faint, to the extent that he steadied her as she rose from his lap, then catching her breath she stood obediently in front of him.
‘You’re not terribly well turned out, are you, Elizabeth?’ he commented, frowning a little.
She felt her face flush. ‘No, sir,’ she admitted, now sorry she had not taken more time and trouble over her appearance.
‘Why is that? Do I not warrant care and attention to your person?’
‘Oh, yes sir, of course you do, sir,’ she said insistently. ‘I was just hungry and therefore in a hurry,’ she answered, knowing it was a feeble excuse.
‘That is not acceptable, Elizabeth,’ he admonished sternly. Go back up to your room and make yourself more presentable. Before you do, however, bring me my boots for inspection. I trust they are well polished?’
‘Yes sir,’ she replied. ‘You’ll have no cause for complaint, sir.’
‘Off you go then, and be quick about it.’ With an indifferent wave he dismissed Elizabeth as though suddenly intensely bored of her presence, and she could not quite believe how deep that attitude stung her – only a few hours before she would not have cared one jot about what he, or anyone for that matter, thought of her.
As the door closed behind her Lord Michael inhaled deeply. He stood up and paced back and forth in front of the fire, deep in thought. He simply did not normally respond to women in such a profound way as this. He wandered over to the windows and gazed distractedly out. The beauty of the grounds calmed him, but something on the floor, near the desk, caught his eye.
Looking down he spied Elizabeth’s fine underwear. He had completely forgotten all about it. Recalling the immense pleasure of sliding the sensuous material across her shapely bottom, he reached down and picked up the delicate lingerie. Then raising it to his face he breathed in her fragrance, feeling his member stir yet again. Tonight, he decided, deeply inhaling her body’s essence. Tonight, she would be his.
He put the underwear in his pocket, and by the time the luscious girl returned, carrying his heavy boots, he had regained his equanimity.
‘Bring them here,’ he ordered. ‘I shall inspect them whilst you make yourself presentable,’ he said, his voice firm.
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, strangely happy to obey, and moved towards him.
His eyes fell to her breasts, easily admired within the cotton dress. It would be delightful indeed, he pondered, to suck and kiss those orbs of youthful perfection.
Elizabeth placed the boots on the floor in front of him and even dropped a curtsy, and the charming show of good manners interrupted his erotic thoughts. ‘Good girl,’ he said.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, bobbing again, ‘I’ll change and be back in just a few minutes.’
‘Wait,’ he said, stopping her. ‘You’d better take these with you.’ Reaching into his pocket he withdrew the panties and handed them to her. Blushing, she took the intimate apparel from his hands, then turned and left the room.
Gathering his thoughts he picked up his boots and looked them over carefully. There was not a speck of grime to be found, and they shone as though new. She had done an excellent job on them, but he was not surprised. Despite her questionable attitude she was bright and talented, and now he had started to work on the former he would have expected no less from her. He would have to remain firm with her, however, and stay on his masterly toes.
The mid-afternoon sun was streaming into the room through the large windows, and by the time she returned he had made up his mind; they were going for another walk. When she entered the room he could not suppress a contented smile.
Her hair was pinned up, with a few loose curls delicately framing her lovely face. She was attired in a pale blue dress of the finest silk, with a small and charming bow at her throat. It fitted her perfectly, accentuating her mouth-watering breasts, her alluringly narrow waist, and her voluptuous hips. Her dainty feet were encased in cream lace-up boots.
‘That’s much better, Elizabeth,’ he complimented her. ‘Much, much better.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, blushing coyly.
‘And now I should like to take some air and enjoy a leisurely stroll with a well-dressed and well-mannered young lady. Do you know anyone who fits that description?’
She looked down coyly, uncertain of the game he was playing. ‘I believe, sir… that I might be able to satisfy,’ she ventured, hoping it was the right thing to say. ‘If it pleases you, sir.’
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Excellent,’ he said, offering his elbow. ‘I very much think you might, at that. Take my arm and we shall proceed together.’
Leaving the shining boots beside the fire and his vacated chair, her arm looped through his, they left the sitting room.
Chapter 7
The walk through the gardens was pleasant indeed. They shared conversation and comfortable silences, and both felt utterly at ease in the other’s company, staying to the paths and avoiding the wet lawns.
There was a crispness in the air that was pleasing to them both, and as they made their way around the landscaped grounds he could not help but think what delightful company she had become, and so quickly. The autumn fragrances from the manicured borders, mixed with the exotic perfume uniquely hers, were all rather heady.
And Elizabeth was elated. Despite the difference in their years she had finally met someone who warranted her respect and adoration. Just a few hours before the last thing on her mind, lying over his knee, her bottom stinging from the smacks of his hand, was that she would be walking with him in such a way, feeling as she did.
Indeed, in those first few minutes she truly hated him; she had seen him as nothing but a bully and a brute. But now she felt she was beginning to understand him. He had been correct in his assessment of her and what she truly deserved and needed.
By the time he guided her back to the house her cheeks were rosy, not just from the fresh air and exercise, but also from the naughty stirrings in her body. And as for Lord Michael, he was quite beside himself with desire for her.
Dusk had descended and he suggested they both take a rest before dinner. As he walked her into the house he took her elbow and they ascended the stairs together, and he continued to
hold it as they made their way along the landing to her room.
She opened the door, smiling, but to her instant dismay she realised she had carelessly left her previous clothes strewn untidily about. The simple cotton dress, from which she had changed so quickly, lay on the floor, and a trail of grimy clothes, remnants from the morning’s events, led from the middle of the room to the bathroom.
‘Oh dear,’ he said, eyeing and assessing the mess instantly, his manner suddenly brusque, ‘what do we have here, Elizabeth?’
Her heart jumped. ‘I, um, I d-don’t seem to have put my things away.’ The obvious was all she could feebly stammer.
‘No, you certainly have not,’ he said, his tone leaving no doubt about his displeasure. ‘And I consider it a personal insult that you should allow me to see your room in such a poor state of tidiness. Fetch me your hairbrush, Elizabeth.’
She looked up at him, instantly understanding his intention, beseeching him silently, but he was unmoved. So she walked to her dresser, knowing all the while that he was right to be displeased with her. She should never have left things as she had, expecting them to be miraculously picked up and dispensed with without consideration.
‘What a mess,’ he said, closing the bedroom door. ‘You really are very slovenly, Elizabeth. It’s just as well I came up to see this, isn’t it?’ He looked around. It was a fashionable room indeed; artfully and stylishly decorated, all the accoutrements a young lady could ask for, including a handsome four-poster bed, draped with a flowing, diaphanous white fabric.
There was a full-length mirror, which had two smaller mirrors hinged on either side. A cream-coloured dressing table was placed in the window, allowing her to view the gardens as she groomed herself. Delicate flowers were etched in the wood, painted in pastel shades. He walked to it, and taking the hairbrush from her hand, told her to turn and face the window.
‘From now on, Elizabeth,’ he said, ‘every time you look out this window, you will remember this moment. It might help to remind you that laziness and slovenliness are not permitted or tolerated.’
Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) Page 5
