Shana's Guardian (9 page)

Margery’s eyes shone.
 
“You’re forgetting something, my
dear.
 
Daman won’t be here on
Friday.
 
It’ll be easier for you to
sneak away than it will be for us,” she said, gesturing between herself and
Beth.

“You’re both the devil,” Shana said,
sighing.
 
“Okay, okay, I’ll think
about it.”
 
Hopefully that would
placate her friends for now.
 
No
matter what Beth and Margery said though, she wouldn’t think twice about visiting
the gypsy village with them.

The three women filled up ten buckets of
blueberries while talking about the marriage celebration that night.
 
Margery had promised to watch her
sister’s baby, so she would miss out this month, but Beth would be in attendance
with her husband.
 
Shana was happy
there would be at least one friendly face in the crowd.
 
After helping Beth close up the
greenhouse, Shana delivered a bucket of blueberries to old Mary Miller, stopped
at the library on a personal errand, and went home to prepare for the impending
party.

She took a long bath, all the while mourning
the days to come.
 
She had missed
Daman each and every time he left the settlement, but now that he was her
husband she felt his imminent absence like a gaping wound in her chest.
 
Asking to come along with the men had
been silly.
 
She understood that in
retrospect.
 
Even Margery had
thought her crazy for asking such a question.

Beth and Margery were the crazy ones
though.
 
They planned to visit the
gypsy village in less than a week!
 
Shana doubted she could say anything to sway their minds, especially
Margery’s.
 
Margery’s husband was a
big pushover, and even if she were caught, she would hardly suffer through a
scolding.
 
Beth’s husband seemed
just as strict as Daman, and Shana was certain Beth would suffer severe
consequences if she were caught.
 
How did Beth plan to sneak out when she shared a bed with her husband?

Shana sank lower in the tub, submerging
her head completely underwater.
 
She
held her breath for as long as possible, because when she emerged, it would be
time to dry off and don her mother’s wedding party gown.
 
When the pressure in her torso became
unbearable, she resurfaced and sucked in a
much needed
gulp of air.
 
Loneliness spun a
tangled web of heartache through her chest.
 
Her mother was dead, and Shana would be
preparing for the party alone.
 
All
the other girls had their mothers or aunts or sisters to help them get ready.

She stepped out of the tub and wrapped a
towel around her dripping body.
 
She
supposed she would ache for a female presence now and then in the years to
come.
 
It was probably normal, but
she wouldn’t let it ruin her last night with Daman before his departure.

She hastily towel dried her hair and
braided it into a crown atop her head, leaving half of it flowing down her
back.
 
She applied a hint of makeup,
just as she had the day they’d gone to the chapel.
 
Warm stockings and the dress came next.
 
At least her mother’s dress was
long-sleeved and heavy.
 
The wedding
celebration was always held outside, even in the dead of winter, so she was
grateful for the warmth of the garment.
 
As she struggled to close the countless buttons on the back of the
dress, Daman pushed aside the curtain and entered her bedroom – her old
bedroom.
 
She’d decided to get ready
here so her husband would have enough space to prepare on his own.

The air in the room seemed to warm as he
approached her, his eyes conveying so much heat she nearly melted at his
feet.
 
God be good, she loved this
man so much it hurt to breath sometimes.

“Here,” he said, turning her to face the
mirror.
 
“Let me help you.”

As he worked to close the buttons on her
gown, Shana peered at his reflection in the mirror.
 
He wore a dark gray suit.
 
His hair was damp from a recent bath,
and it shimmered brilliantly in the candlelight, and combined with his burning
eyes gave him an unearthly look.
 
Like
a fallen angel, she thought with a secret smile.

“Something funny?” he asked, spinning her
around after latching the last button.

She flushed.
 
“I’m just very happy,” she said.
 
That
wasn’t a lie, at least.

He studied her for a long while, holding
her out by her arms.
 
His mouth
opened.
 
“I have something for
you.”
 
He dropped her arms, reached
into his pocket, and pulled out a beautiful diamond encrusted comb.

Shana gasped.
 
She’d never seen anything like it.

“It belonged to my mother,” he said.

“Oh, Daman, it’s beautiful.
 
Thank you,” she said, smiling wide.

He lifted his arms and fixed the comb in
place within her crown of braids.
 
She glanced at herself in the mirror, feeling like a princess from one
of the storybooks she’d seen in the library.

“Oh!” she gasped, catching his eyes in
the mirror.
 
“I have something for
you too.”
 
From under the pillow on
her old bed, she produced a package wrapped in light green fabric, tied with a
gold ribbon.
 
She watched his
expression as he opened it, praying he would like it.
 
To her immense relief, he grinned like a
child opening a birthday present when he pulled the book free from its
wrappings.

“How did you get the library to part with
this book?
 
It’s their only
copy.”
 
He held up the abused copy
of
1984
, his favorite book, and began
flipping through the pages.

Shana giggled.
 
“That took a lot of negotiating with Mr.
Anderson.
 
I ended up agreeing to
hold a story and craft time for children twice a week for the next four
months.”
 
She bit her lip and eyed
him worriedly.
 
“I hope you won’t
mind.”

Daman
sighed,
shaking his head while wearing the biggest grin she’d ever seen.
 
“You’re something,” he said.
 
“Thank you.”

“So you really like it?
 
I had the hardest time figuring out your
present.
 
You’re a difficult man to
please, you know.”

He drew her closer, encircling his arms
around her waist.
 
“I love it,
Shana.
 
And I love you.”

* * *

Daman glanced at the starry sky, eyeing
the waxing gibbous moon appreciatively.
  
It was large and bright, and the
impending fullness of it would make a perfect travel companion, assuming the
weather held out.
 
Laughter and
music filled the square where he stood beside Shana, holding a possessive arm
around her waist.
 
She was
breathless from dancing with the settlement children.
 
It was considered good luck to dance
with as many brides as possible, so superstitious parents encouraged their
children to dance with all the young women dressed in white.

“Are you tired?” he asked, cocking his
head in her direction.

“Yes, but I don’t want to leave yet,” she
said with a smile, and then added, “As long as that’s all right with you.”

His little wife was full of
surprises.
 
She hadn’t seemed
enthusiastic about this celebration, and now she appeared to be having the time
of her life.
 
Her foot never stopped
tapping the ground, in beat with the music.
 
She didn’t refuse one child who
requested a dance, and she spoke happily with everyone.
 
At least there hadn’t been any kind of
backlash as a result of their unlikely union.
 
The congratulations thrown his way all
night seemed genuine, and he was happy Shana wouldn’t ever have to feel awkward
for wedding her legal guardian.

“We can stay as long as you like, my
sweet,” he replied, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you,
Uncle
,” she whispered in his ear so no one else could hear.

He gave her a stern look for her
intentional disobedience.
 
If he
didn’t know better, he’d think she wanted a spanking.
 
“You’ll be getting the paddle for that,
young lady,” he warned.

She blushed and looked down.
 
“Yes, Sir,” she said, suppressing a grin
and wiggling against him.

Oh, he planned to give it to her good
tonight.
 
Not just because she
wanted it,
but
because he wanted to send her to the
Clayton house with a sore bottom as a reminder to behave during his
absence.
 
Before he could threaten
her further, two children dashed up to her and requested a dance.
 
He sent her away with a kiss and a soft
pat to her bottom.

They stayed until almost midnight, and
before they departed Shana dragged him around the square to bid everyone
goodnight.
 
He loved to watch her
interact with others like this; it brought heaps of joy to his heart.
 
He was drowning in happiness by the time
they reached home.
 
And just as he
did the morning he brought her home from the chapel, he scooped her up in his
arms and carried her inside.

Except they didn’t go to
the bedroom.

Daman had promised Shana a paddling, and
he intended to honor that promise with her bent over the desk in his study,
just like old times.
 
He placed her
on her feet after entering the room, and loomed over her with his arms crossed.

Her eyes widened and she took a step
back.
 
“Uncle?” she asked, her voice
trembling.
 
“Daman?
 
Have I displeased you tonight?”

He dropped his arms and walked toward her
until she was backed up against the wall.
 
“What did I say would happen if you called me Uncle in public?” he
asked, keeping his visage hard.

She paled.
 
“But I only whispered it!
 
I thought you were joking when you said
you would paddle me.”
 
She glanced
at the awful wooden implement hanging on the wall nearby and shuddered.

Daman lifted her chin with a finger.
 
“It doesn’t matter if anyone heard you
or not.
 
You disobeyed me, and for
that I will paddle your little bottom.”

Her lip quivered, and he was happy to
know last night’s tears weren’t a random occurrence.
 
He would make her cry again tonight.

“Turn around,” he commanded, and made
fast work of undoing her buttons once she obeyed.
 
The huge white gown fell to the floor,
and he pushed her undergarments down with it, baring her to his gaze and his
punishment.
 
He guided her to stand
in the center of the room.

“I’m so sorry,” Shana said, bowing her
head.

His cock was rock hard at this
point.
 
Before he ever touched her
bottom, the whole process of informing her of her punishment and preparing her
for it always kindled his desire.
 
And it always had, even before she’d become his wife.

“This isn’t just about calling me Uncle
in public,” Daman confessed, walking a slow circle around her trembling
body.
 
“You’re a married woman now
and you need to act like it.
 
I
don’t want to hear of you misbehaving in my absence.
 
You will be polite during your stay at
the Clayton’s house, and if I hear you get up to any mischief, I will make sure
that weeks’ worth of strappings you received after visiting the gypsies seems
like a slap on the wrist.”

She gasped and then nodded her head
vigorously.
 
“I promise I’ll be
good,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hands at your sides, Shana,” he said,
stopping directly in front of her.
 
“I will use the paddle on you tonight, but I will also punish you in
more intimate ways, ways that may seem strange to you.
 
I want you to be a good girl and accept
your punishment.”

She nodded, and this time a tear fell
down her cheek.
 
He brushed it away
with his thumb and stroked her face.
 
After a while, he stepped back and eyed her large breasts, heaving under
her quick breaths.
 
She stiffened
when he pinched one nipple, twisting it until it became a hard little
peak.
 
He treated the other nipple
to the same pinching and twisting, this time making her whimper.