The Harlot Bride (7 page)

Lucy hesitated for only a second, searching his eyes until her courage faltered, then slipped from his lap and fled the room as fast as a sore bottom would allow.

** ** **

Painful as it was to sit atop a moving horse, Lucy found it thrilling to be riding again after so long, and through such beautiful countryside. Lord Tazewell was an excellent horseman, and he kept a fast pace, which suited Lucy very well except for the bouncing against her bottom. She wasn’t afraid of speed, and the last thing she wanted was a leisurely trot that would allow her time to dwell on the fact that she’d just had her bottom spanked.

Even so, it was difficult to keep her mind away from the painful memory of what had just transpired in the breakfast room. And each time she considered the humiliation she had endured, and the fact that the entire staff of that great house had surely heard every smack, her face would heat up in shame, despite the cool of the wind against them.

But soon enough, Lucy experienced the welcome relief of distraction, her attention diverted from the twin stings (to backside and pride) by the sheer beauty of the countryside through which they were traveling. She had seen little in the way of nature since she left India, and each rise through these verdant rolling hills brought new surprises and delights. Chiltenham was lovely, and not at all the dismal moors and bogs she had imagined.

When they finally halted atop a hill in front of a particularly arresting vista, Lucy set aside her wounded pride long enough to venture a question, the first time she spoken since he had let her up from his knees.

“Are we still on your estate? Is this all really yours?

“This, and much more,” he replied. “I own nearly 80,000 acres, and we’d have to ride a great deal longer than this to reach the closest neighboring estate.”

It was all a bit too much to take in, particularly for a young woman in a state of emotional disquiet, and Lucy fidgeted uncomfortably atop the saddle even as she gazed in amazement at the leagues of land stretching out before them. When you’ve just been well spanked, galloping across the countryside, however beautiful, has little to recommend itself.

Lord Tazewell had noticed her squirming, and with some satisfaction, but he spared her any comments. It was punishment enough to have to ride with a tender bottom, and she had, in fact, allowed the stable man to help her onto her horse without any complaint about the saddle, despite her earlier protests against being told to ride like a lady.

Lucy winced when her horse started up again, following the lead of Lord Tazewell’s mount. They headed down the hill towards the valley, which yielded yet another surprise for Lucy, the second revelation in the space of a short morning about the man into whose custody she had been taken.

A cottage came into view, and while Lucy may not have been in England long, she had seen enough to understand, at a glance, that the cottagers on Lord Tazewell’s estate had a better living than most. The cottage was modest, it’s true, with two or perhaps three rooms at most, but the thatch on the roof was fresh, the fence was in good repair and the little children who played in the doorway looked clean and healthy. As the two riders turned into a path along the side of the cottage, Lucy could see three or four hogs in a pen, which meant the family had bacon and sausage to carry them through the winter months, and a fair garden planted with beans and cabbages.

There was a woman in the garden, weeding, and when she heard the horses she straightened up from her labors and gave a friendly greeting, not at all the sort of sullen reception one hears is the best a landlord can expect when he rides near his tenants. The woman’s eyes flickered over to Lucy, her curiosity apparent, but much to Lucy’s relief, Lord Tazewell wished the woman a good day, and after a quick inquiry about the children, continued them on their way.

“I ride every morning for at least an hour, but often two or more, to make sure all is well,” he explained when they were beyond the cottage, although she hadn’t asked a question. “If I ride to the east one day, to check on the tenants in this valley and the next, then I will ride in another direction the next day, to check the fields and buildings that lie there. Thus, in the space of a fortnight, I have been to every corner of my estate and know exactly what’s going on.

He motioned to her to be careful of a branch that overhung the wooded trail.

“The younger child in that cottage, the little boy you just saw, was sick a month or two back. I had a word with the father, and sent the apothecary round with a poultice for his chest, and as you have seen, he’s back to health. These morning rides are my way of attending to small problems before they can grow.”

He pulled up his horse and hers stopped as well, although she hadn’t tugged its reins. Although the trail had narrowed, Lord Tazewell expertly turned his horse so he was facing her.

“I wish you with me on these rides for the pleasure of company, but I also want you to be my eyes. If you notice something that seems not right, anything at all, I wish you to tell me at once.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lucy nodded. She was loathe to release even a drop of her smoldering anger against the man, considering the humiliations he had visited upon her this morning, of course, but also before. But it pleased her that he had asked something of her, even if it had been phrased more as an order than a request.

Miss Lucy Farquhar had never been one to yield easily, but she would give him this much.

She would have taken it back in an instant, if she had known what he was thinking, which was, of course, that the trip across his knees this morning had obviously done a world of good for her attitude. And that he’d best have her back across them again soon, so he could set those shapely legs akicking again to the tune of a sound spanking. But the next time, he’d have that bottom properly bared.

Chapter 5

Those first days at Gorham Hall passed with painful slowness for Lucy, who had grown up in more lively circumstances, never at a loss for company and amusements. She was called to breakfast very early each morning, and immediately afterwards, rode with Lord Tazewell for an hour or two as he made his rounds of the estate. This proved to be by far the most pleasant part of her day, because the countryside was beautiful and her companion an able horseman.

But except for those precious hours, Lucy was left largely to herself, ignored by the staff as well as the man who had brought her here. She had been instructed that when alone she must not venture farther than the garden, and that she may not, under any circumstances, enter Lord Tazewell’s private wing. However, Lucy was allowed free access to the solarium and library at the back of the house, and it was in these rooms that she tried to pass her solitary days and evenings, always loathe to return to her cold, austere cell any sooner than absolutely necessary.

One damp rainy day, when he had insisted on riding alone and she was unable even to step out in the garden, she found in the library a book by Mr. Kipling, and holding the leather–bound tome close to her chest, she wept in longing for Mother India, and the warm, vibrant life she had once had.

At this point in the story, readers of the female sex may find themselves growing indignant at Lord Tazewell’s apparent indifference to Lucy’s emotional well–being. Why had he gone to all the trouble and expense of marrying her, the ladies may inquire, if he had no intention to attend to her? Ah, women might well wonder, but I’m sure the gentlemen among our readers have by now perceived the clear method in Lord Tazewell’s treatment of Lucy. He was, in fact, attending to her very well, and subtly engaging in her training.

You see, with each passing day Lucy found herself growing lonelier, and, in the hope of being allowed more time with her only source of what might be called companionship, that is to say Lord Tazewell himself, she began, without quite realizing it, to make some small efforts to be more agreeable. Lucy had set aside some of the argumentative and unladylike behaviours she had demonstrated at their first meeting, and it was not only the spanking she had received that encouraged her to be more polite in his presence.

Yet in truth, such earnest endeavor on Lucy’s part seemed to have little effect, for during her first weeks in Gorham Hall, she saw very little of Lord Tazewell other than in the early mornings. The Earl of Chiltenham seemed to be very busy, and away from the estate a great deal. Lucy once wondered, quite jealously, whether he kept a mistress in one of the villages nearby. It surprised her that she should even care, but care she did.

It should come as no surprise, given the circumstances of the marriage, that Lucy had at first been relieved that this man, purportedly her husband, had made no move to force himself upon her. Yet the anticipation that he would eventually make nuptial demands of her, mixed with a niggling fear that he would not, was beginning to occupy a great deal of Lucy’s thoughts. So much so that she was greatly startled one noontime, on the first occasion that his Lord Tazewell had been home for them to take the midday meal together, to look up and find his full attention upon her.

Lucy stopped in mid sentence, unable to speak of the humiliation he had inflicted on her through his agent, the hateful Doctor Randolph, before their marriage. The blood rose to her face and she was afraid she’d now disgrace herself by starting to cry.

“Then why ever did I have my physician examine you?” he queried mildly. “I merely wished to ensure that you weren’t carrying another man’s child or disease. I have no desire for bastard children underfoot, and if I wished to contract the pox, I know of any number of places where I could do so under far more enjoyable circumstances.”

Dear god, she thought, I’ve been married off to one of those cads who prefers…

“You misunderstand me!” Lord Tazewell snapped, having, by all evidence, once again intercepted her thoughts. “I enjoy pleasuring myself in female flesh as much as the next man. Perhaps more.”

“Very well, Miss Lucy. If you are so anxious to be introduced to carnal pleasures, you may present yourself in my rooms this evening at 10 o’clock. Please be on time, as I may wish to make a long evening of it. I have a great deal of knowledge and experience on this particular subject, and I trust you’ll be a fast learner.”

Lucy felt the room spin. Suddenly it seemed that everything was moving too quickly, and not at all in the way she had imagined.

“I may or may not attend to your deflowering right away, but I do expect you to be obedient and pleasing to me tonight and, in fact, whenever you are admitted to my private chambers. To that end, I have prepared a gown I wish you to wear,” Lord Tazewell said, rising from the table. “I’ll have Mary bring it to your room this evening. As we have discussed before, you are to wear what I provide for you, Lucy, and nothing more. Nothing at all.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I trust you’re clear on that?”

And with that, he exited the room, leaving Lucy seated at the table, dumbfounded, before a half–eaten meal that she was now quite unable to finish, and with many anxious hours before her.

** ** **

As his Lordship was to be out that afternoon and evening, Mrs. Deegers informed Lucy that a tray would be brought to her, and that she may, once again, take her meal alone in her room. Her evening meal turned out to be the simplest of repasts, just a bowl of broth and a plate of brown bread and cheese, almost as if Mrs. Deegers had been informed of Lord Tazewell’s plans for Lucy later that evening, and had therefore determined it was inadvisable for the young woman to take a heavy meal. Given the lack of consideration afforded to Lucy’s sense of pride and privacy, it is, in fact, entirely possible that the entire staff, even the maids and stable boys, did indeed know that the young miss from London had been summoned to His Lordship’s chambers for the night.

It was quite late in the evening, well after nine, when Mary at last arrived with the gown Lord Tazewell had said he would provide. Lucy had been pacing the floor nervously for nearly an hour. The garment was hidden in a wrapping of clean white muslin, and Mary set the package on the bed.

“I don’t think you’ll need me to dress you, miss,” the maid said with far more familiarity than any maid should use when addressing a lady, “as there t’isn’t much to it.” And then she giggled.

“You’ve seen it?” Lucy cried out, horrified.

“Oh yes, miss. His Lordship made quite a display of it when he brought it downstairs. I had to iron it meself, and everyone in the laundry got a fair gander while I was attending to it,” she smirked cheekily. “Twas a fair bit ‘o laughin’ at the picture of you in it, miss. Imagine having your goodies all laid out like that, plain as anything for anyone to see!”

“Why, you impudent girl! How dare you speak to me like that!”

“Don’t you go putting on airs, miss,” Mary said, her eyes narrowing. “Mrs. Deegers told us all what his Lordship said about you. And everyone knows why he brought you here!”

“Go! Get out of here at once!” Lucy cried, raising her hand to slap the insolent girl, but then seeming to think better of it.