by Starla Kaye
She nodded, her slight shoulders slumping.
“Stack the pillows in the middle of the bed, Maggie. Then remove your clothes. I would have you stretch over the pillows naked.” He’d never asked this of her before and wondered if she would comply. But he didn’t want to mess with shifting her clothing out of his way. His demand was also to fully show who was the dominant one here, who was the subservient one—or who should be more submissive.
At first she didn’t move, pinched her face in annoyance. To his relief, she decided not to press him and rose to first drag the fur covering to the end of the bed and then stack the two pillows where he’d instructed. She gave him an uncertain glance, and finally undressed.
Nicholas couldn’t help from reacting to the sight of his shapely wife standing naked before him. He badly wanted to toss down the tawse, strip off his own clothing, and join her on the bed. His cock pushed against his braies. He fought down his desire to run his hands over every beautiful inch of her precious body, to drive into his wife. She needed to be punished. He couldn’t let her get away with what she had done, with how she’d frightened him, and caused Richard such distress. Everyone in his household would expect her to suffer dearly for this act of rebellion. Still, he hated having to do this.
“Take the position I ordered.”
His stubborn wife took her sweet time to obey. She gave him a sour look when she finally crawled onto the bed and moved over the pillows until her bottom was perched on them. “’Tisna necessary fer ye to do this, husband. I’ve already told Sir Richard how sorry I was fer worrying him. Apologized to Fia as well. I admit I did wrong.”
He stepped to the side of the bed. He didn’t want to cause her great pain, but he still felt almost sick at all that could have happened to her. And he knew in his gut that she would do this again given the chance. “Do you really expect me not to give you a leathering?”
“Nay. I’ve expected it.” She shifted her long braid to one side, stretched out her arms, and lowered her head to the mattress. “I wish I had no’…. What does it matter? I did it. Even knowing ye would be verra upset with me.”
He blew out a breath, considered changing his mind, knew he didn’t really have that choice. He needed to do this. She expected it, was accepting it. “You will think seriously before even considering something so foolish again.”
Her creamy buttocks quivered in anticipation. He didn’t wish this to take any longer than necessary. Resigned, he drew his arm back and laid the first blow across the center of both buttocks.
She jerked as the first line of red striped her bottom. “Uhhh!”
When she settled again, he placed another biting lash just below the first. “Stay as still as you can. I will get this done quickly.”
“I’ll try,” she hissed and curled her fingers around the bed linen.
He placed a hand in the small of her back to hold her in place. Then he administered the steady fall of lashes with no breaks in between. The loud thwacks! echoed around the chamber. Her bottom burned red and he felt the heat flaming off it.
Her knuckles turned white. She lay as still as possible at the beginning, finally began to wriggle and buck against the blows. She whimpered, and then kicked her legs out straight as each strike landed.
When she finally cried out in anguish, he stopped. He had no desire to truly hurt her. Her bottom would give her great discomfort for at least the rest of the day, maybe longer. That was enough.
Looking down at her shuddering body, her crimson bottom, and hearing her sobs, he had no desire this time to straddle her and take her from behind as he’d done before. This time she really was in too much pain. This time she needed to think about why she’d been disciplined and not about being made love to.
Her small hands came back to gently touch her bottom. She looked at him, tears streaming down her face. Such misery in her eyes made him fearful that he’d been too extreme. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
She gave a bob of her head, drew in a shuddery breath. “I-I’m verra sorry, husband. I will no’ be so foolish again.”
“I would hope not.” He thought about her strong will and knew she would test him again. He gave her a tender look. “I’m beginning to care much for you, Maggie. It pains me to punish you, especially so harshly.”
Her hands smoothed over her buttocks once more. “Not nearly as much as it pains me.”
He couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned down to kiss her head, lightly stroking her silky hair. “You will stay here the rest of the day, wife. Tomorrow you can leave the chamber.”
“Aye,” she said quietly, lowering her head again and sobbing.
Nicholas stroked her hair a final time and then left her to recover.
* * *
The first light of dawn snaked in through the windows, falling across Maggie’s face. She moaned wearily having slept badly during the night. She’d had dreams of Brodie again, more intense ones than before. She was certain they weren’t just the hopes of her heart. He was alive. She felt it to her soul. Somehow she had to convince Nicholas.
Her stomach rumbled in hunger and she rolled over, only to wince in pain as her tender bottom touched the mattress. She turned back quickly to her stomach. Her husband had thrashed her soundly. She would feel sore for several days. And he hadn’t made love to her even after he’d come to bed much later. She’d seen the need in his eyes, but he’d explained that because of her punishment and need to focus on why it had happened, he wouldn’t make love just yet. Of course, it would have hurt, but she’d wanted some kind of tenderness from him. He had hugged her and gently kissed her goodnight.
She looked at his empty side of the bed and wished he were here now. Why had he left her so early? Was he down breaking his fast?
Her stomach rumbled again and she decided it was time to break her own fast. She eased off the bed. Every movement hurt, even the backs of her legs. She hadn’t realized until now that Nicholas had also lashed her upper thighs at least once. Wicked that.
Dressing as quickly as she could manage, she knew it would be a wearing day dealing with a sore bottom and tender thighs as the fabric of her clothes brushed continually against them. It would also be embarrassing to face her staff and everyone else as well. All knew how she’d been confined to her chamber for several days before Nicholas’ return. And all certainly would know that her husband had punished her well. But she was the lady of the castle and she had duties to attend. For her husband’s sake, she would not shame him by hiding out any longer.
The trip down the stairs was agonizing. She was always a bit stiff after a sound lessoning. She winced at each brush of the fabric on her sore body. It was a blessed relief when she finally stepped foot on the main floor. The great hall was filled with his men eating and discussing the day ahead. Maids flitted about bringing platters of bread and cheese, refilling mugs of mead. Mary sat next to Nicholas on the raised dais, smiling at him and talking, although he didn’t appear to be listening to her. Jealousy curled within Maggie. The sooner Lady Stanhope was gone from here, the better.
Raising her chin, Maggie walked toward her husband. She noted the many heads turning to watch her, the sympathetic expressions on some, approving ones on others. Yes, all knew something of what had happened to her. She raised her chin even more.
Nicholas spotted her and gave a curt nod of approval at her appearance. She saw a hint of regret in his eyes as she walked to her chair next to his. He waited uncertainly to see if she would actually sit. He would have allowed her to stand and eat her meal, but she was tougher than that.
“Good morn, husband,” she said and pulled out her chair. Drawing in a steadying breath, she gingerly sat down. She bit back the minor pain and reached for a piece of bread.
Mary looked around Nicholas and flashed a false smile of sympathy. “I hadn’t expected to see you down here today.”
Nicholas glowered at her and she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I was misspeaking.”
Nicholas reached over to pat her hand, his eyes revealing pride in her. He faced the others again. “My lady wife’s act of rebellion has been dealt with. There will be no more talk about the matter. A private matter.”
They ate in silence after that. Maggie could feel Mary’s displeasure at being thwarted in her plan to embarrass her. With every bite, she grew restless with longing to be with her husband. He had forgiven her and she desperately needed his attention in a much more pleasurable manner. And as she grew restless, she fidgeted in her chair more, which caused her to flinch over and over again.
Finally Nicholas seemed to realize what she wanted. He leaned over and whispered huskily in her ear, “Are you still too sore, wife?”
She scooted back her chair and stood, taking a second to adjust to not sitting on a tender bottom. Then she captured his gaze, aware that many eyes were on them once more. “Some private time with ye, husband.”
He immediately stood.
They had started toward the staircase when a soldier rushed in the front doors. He yelled, “My Lord! Riders approach. Scots.”
Chapter Nine
“Scots?” Nicholas heard Maggie question in a whisper. She’d paled and seemed to barely breathe. “Brodie?”
The hall had grown deathly quiet, no doubt everyone inside had heard her hopeful question as near silent as it had been. He didn’t think it was possible that her brother lived. He hated that she’d not been able to find peace with her brother’s death yet. He held to her hand, tried to pull her into his embrace. “It can’t be him, Maggie.”
She pulled her hand free and shot him a sizzling look. She put a closed fist against her chest and bit out, “I ken in my heart that he lives. I’ve dreamt of him living. I dinna give up on him as easily as ye.”
He stiffened, disliking that they were having this discussion in front of so many people. “I didn’t give up on him. He was gone. There was nothing I could do.”
In that moment, in the torment flashing in her hurt eyes, he knew she would never forgive him for not at least bringing her brother’s body back. Her father’s and her other brother’s deaths didn’t bother her in the same way. She’d accepted them. His mistake had been in telling her that he hadn’t known Brodie’s actual state, which he was almost fully certain had to be dead. He’d never known anyone so stubborn about something. Yet he had to admire her fierce loyalty, the deep love she had for Brodie. If only she felt as strongly about him. He doubted now that would ever be possible.
She darted away from him, raced by the people quickly standing at the tables preparing to go outside, and swept by the startled guard at the doors. Frowning, stomach knotting with dread of whatever news they would soon hear, Nicholas followed after his wife.
For a woman still suffering a sore bottom, she moved with amazing speed. As he started down the keep’s steps, she hurried toward the guard walking from the gatehouse. She faced him and demanded, “Let them enter.”
The guard glanced from her to Nicholas before he even considered obeying. “They bear a banner from Urquhart, my lord.”
Nicholas watched Maggie stiffen, saw her breath hitch as he stepped beside her. The color had left her face even more and he worried that she would collapse. He put an arm around her trembling shoulders, holding tight as she at first resisted his touch before accepting it. Only then did he nod and say, “Allow them entrance.”
A crowd gathered behind them. He didn’t have to look back to know Gerald and Richard, as well as his soldiers, would be watching carefully. They would be prepared to defend their lord and his lady if necessary. He knew in his gut it wouldn’t be necessary. He also knew that whatever news was coming would change his life and would affect their marriage.
The second he saw Douglas leading a dozen mounted clansmen through the covered gate, he prayed for the strength to handle the news they carried. His glance shifted to Maggie in his concern. She searched each and every face for Brodie. Tears glistened in her eyes and she trembled in disappointment at not finding him. He tucked her tighter against him, willing her to accept his comfort.
As she stood quietly beside him, he looked up at Douglas. “What brings you to Middleham?”
Urquhart’s baliff studied Maggie in Nicholas’s firm hold, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “I wasna sure my lady would even still be here, Lord Middleham. Figured ye would tell us where she’d gone, whom ye’d married her off to.”
Nicholas understood the man’s surprise. When they’d left Middleham, she had been more or less his prisoner, not overly willing to leave her home and go with him to face an arranged marriage. Now she was in his embrace. “Maggie is now my wife, Sir Douglas.” As Douglas’s eyebrow lifted higher, Nicholas pressed, “Your news?”
Douglas returned his focus to Maggie, although he still looked curious. “’Tis aboot Brodie.”
“His death has been confirmed?” Maggie asked in a quavering voice.
“Nay, lass. Yer brother has returned to Urquhart.” Douglas looked to Nicholas, silently warning him of a problem. “In a manner of speaking, that is.”
Maggie dashed away her tears and demanded, “What mean ye? In a manner of speaking?”
Douglas hesitated and again held Nicholas’s gaze. “Mackenzie clansmen that ken Brodie brought him back to us. He arrived only days after ye left.”
She sucked in a startled breath and Nicholas hugged her even tighter. God’s teeth! The man was alive. The knowledge was staggering. He’d failed his friend. He swallowed back the emotion clogging his throat and asked, “How badly was he hurt?”
Again Maggie shuddered, but the question had to be asked. Douglas had said the Mackenzies “brought him back,” which implied something was wrong.
Douglas focused on Maggie, regret in his eyes. “Yer brother was badly injured, my lady, though he is nearly physically healed now.” He looked to Nicholas again. “But Brodie doesna ken who he is.”
“I dinna understand? Brodie has lost his memories?” Maggie asked, dashing at tears, straightening.
“Aye. He doesna ken he is laird of Urquhart. He doesna even ken Urquhart as his home.”
Nicholas couldn’t imagine how frustrating that would be, to yourself and to those around you. But, thank God, Brodie was alive. It weighed heavily on him again that he should have insisted he and his men search harder for his friend. Had they given up too easily? But they’d found no traces of him. No one knew where he—or his body—had been taken.
Maggie pushed from his embrace. “I must go to him! Now!”
Douglas shook his head, looking worried. “Nay, lass. No’ yet. Yer brother is a bitter mon right now. Confused. Angry. No’ fit company. He wants only to be left alone ‘til his memories return.”
“Then why did you come here?” Nicholas asked angrily. It hurt him seeing his wife so upset.
“Because she needed to ken that Brodie lived. He is the only family she has left,” Douglas stated stubbornly.
“I dinna care that he wishes to be left alone. ‘Tis wrong. I must go to him.” Maggie glared at Nicholas, determination filling every inch of her small body. He saw the end of what progress they’d made in their marriage in her eyes. He’d failed Brodie. He’d failed her.
Still, Nicholas knew Douglas was right. She would be furious with him, but he shook his head. “No. Your brother is a proud man. He would not want you to see him like this, confused, not knowing who he is. You must give him some time.”
As he’d expected, fire flashed in her eyes. She stood rigid before him. “Ye left him behind. Ye wanted him to be dead. Maybe ye wanted possession of Urquhart all along. Ye planned all of this; including stealing me away and having yer king force us to marry.”
She d
ismissed him and scowled at Douglas. “My brother needs me. He may not ken it, but he needs me!”
Douglas met Nicholas’s gaze. The man clearly wanted to do right by his former lady, but he was loyal to her brother as well.
Sucking in a steely breath, Nicholas said firmly, “No. You are not going to him now, wife. There will be no more discussion on the matter.” He knew the issue was far from settled between them, but this was all he could do for now. He looked to Douglas. “You and your men are welcome here as long as you wish to stay.”
At Douglas’s nod of acknowledgment, Nicholas took firm hold of Maggie’s arm and steered her through the gathered crowd. He spoke quietly to her. “You will obey me on this, wife.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I will go to Brodie. Maybe no’ today, but verra soon.” Then her lower lip trembled and tears streamed down her miserable face. All the fire and determination seemed to fade from her. “I have to. He is my brother and I love him.”
Again, Nicholas wished she could love him even half as much. He understood her need to go to Brodie, but he also knew how frustrated and angry the man probably was at the moment. Brodie was a warrior, hard, fiercely loyal to his beliefs and to his clan. Being cut low like this by not knowing who he was, would be difficult. He needed time to either regain his memories or to adjust to starting a new life.
“Give him a bit more time, Maggie.” He gently slid his hand down to rest over her tender bottom and she flinched. “And give your bottom time to recover as well before you try sitting a saddle.”
She blinked. “Then ye will let me go to him? Just no’ yet?”
“Aye. We will go to him, just not yet.”
* * *
Douglas and his clansmen stayed two days before finally riding out just after dawn. Nicholas stood staring at the fireplace in the great hall as he heard the horses’ hooves clambering over the drawbridge. The tables behind him were only half-filled with soldiers breaking their fasts. He smelled the fresh bread and cheese the maids set upon the tables. He hadn’t eaten yet, didn’t feel like he could. His stomach was as upset as his life.
