The Inheritance (18 page)

He blotted the
ink dry, and folding the paper in half placed it inside the
envelope. After addressing and sealing it he moved it to the silver
tray on the foyer table to be sent out first thing in the
morning.

As he worked
through the night, the rain splattering against the windows, he
allowed himself brief moments to consider how marvellous it would
be to spend several hours in the carriage with Lydia journeying to
Hanley Hall, and the following days to see her and his sister
become friends.

But more
importantly, to have the time to spend with her as he wished.

C
hapter Nine

A Bittersweet
Goodbye

It had been a
busy week. There had been a great deal of activity at Hanley Hall
with well dressed men coming and going. A decision had been made to
sell off several of the businesses her uncle had owned, and Lord
Michael and her father would be co-managing the rest. Elizabeth had
been asked to sign several important documents which she had
dutifully done. Lord Michael had explained some things to her but
all she really knew was that she had lots and lots of money.

When she
wasn't riding Constance or exploring the grounds, or seeking out
more hidden passageways in the voluminous house, she was
beautifying the secret chamber. It now sported pretty paintings and
small sculptures, and she had taken down some clothing and
undergarments, along with towels and toiletries.

Because of the
demands of business Elizabeth's time with Lord Michael in the
chamber had been relegated to the late night hours. They would plan
to meet at an appointed time then separately tiptoe through the
house to the grand hall. It was an extra precaution Lord Michael
insisted upon, and though Elizabeth thought it unnecessary she knew
better than to argue.

But now he was
going to be leaving for upwards of a month and she did not want him
to go. The only bright spot on the horizon was the prospect of
meeting James' new 'acquaintance', though she was sure the young
woman in question meant more to her brother than he had
suggested.

On the morning
of the eve of his departure she was so upset Lord Michael decided
to dedicate the day to her, and hurried to make sure all his papers
were packed up and most of his baggage ready.

James would be
arriving late in the afternoon and Lord Michael would leave after
lunch the following day, giving the horses and drivers plenty of
time to recover from their journey up. He was hoping the arrival of
James and Miss Covington would take the edge off his leaving. It
would certainly be a distraction. But he knew Elizabeth could be
quite emotional and he hoped spending the day with her would help
curb her distress.

They spent a
lovely morning at the stable where Elizabeth proudly demonstrated
her riding skills. Lord Michael sat patiently on a bale of hay
while she rode Constance doing all kinds of turns and stops, then
jumped over logs, some of which caused Lord Michael to catch his
breath. When the demonstration was over Elizabeth was out of breath
and thrilled that he had sat so patiently through her display. It
was the first time he had ever really watched her ride.

"Isn't she
wonderful?" Elizabeth beamed, jumping from her mare and patting her
on the neck.

"She is. And
you ride her very well," he praised. "You really do!"

Roy, now fully
ensconced at the stable, led the mare away to be walked until cool,
then bathed and groomed.

"Don't you see
now that I could ride Zeus?" she said, looking at him
expectantly.

"Um - not
quite yet. I'd have to watch the horse being ridden by someone else
first," he replied. "Then I would make up my mind."

"Oh bother.
Can't you let me just trot him around for a few minutes? You're
right here. Nothing will happen," she pleaded. "I've watched An - I
mean, Mr Carrington ride him and he looks easy as pie."

"My dear girl.
I am leaving tomorrow and have promised to spend the entire day
with you. Let's not spoil it by arguing. You know what might
happen," he warned.

She frowned
and stared at her boots. He hated to disappoint her but he wasn't
about to risk anything happening to her the day before his
departure.

"I promise,"
he said gently, "when I return I shall seriously consider the
notion that you can ride him. I will. No guarantees but I will give
it my attention."

Her eyes shot
up.

"You will?
Really?" she asked, eagerly.

"I will. And
you know I keep my promises. But it's a promise to consider," he
cautioned. "Nothing more."

"I just know
you will be all right with it. I just know it," she gleefully
replied.

She wanted to
hug him, but it was not the time or place so she just reached out
and squeezed his hand.

"We'll see,"
he grinned. "Let's get you washed and changed for lunch. I have a
little surprise for you."

"Wonderful. I
do love your surprises!" she exclaimed, looping her arm through his
for the walk back to the house.

Knowing this
would be their last meal alone he had arranged for lunch to be
served on the back terrace overlooking the beautiful rose garden.
It was more than just a garden. It boasted a sizable lily pond with
swans, in the center of which sat an ornate fountain that sported
charming cupids as its base. He had often thought the terrace
should be set up as an outdoor eating and lounging area, and he and
Elizabeth's father had decided to move forward with the plans.

When Elizabeth
met him in the dining room she was surprised to find the table had
not been set. He was standing at the window looking out over the
grounds and it seemed to Elizabeth that he was deep in thought.

"Are we not to
have lunch?" she asked, a little bewildered.

"We are - but
not here," he replied, turning to face her. "Come - this is one of
your surprises," he said, walking forward and extending his
elbow.

Puzzled, she
walked with him to the back of the house and out to the terrace. A
table had been laid with a white tablecloth and pink serviettes,
and a bouquet of red, pink and white roses as a centrepiece. Though
the terrace was washed in sunlight, the table was set in the one
area that offered plenty of shade.

"My goodness.
Isn't it beautiful!" she declared, happily.

"Your father
and I have decided to turn this terrace into an outside lounging
and dining area. It will be perfect for lunches in the day and
dinners by torch at night. And you can select all the furniture,"
he informed her, grinning broadly.

"How
absolutely marvellous!" she exclaimed. "My Lord, this is just
marvellous," she repeated. "A brilliant notion. Oh I cannot
wait."

"James is
bringing some examples of what is available. Perhaps it's something
you can share with the young lady with whom he'll be arriving."

The reminder
that he was leaving the following day instantly changed her
expression.

"If you stayed
you could go through them with me. I'd much rather you and I make
the choices," she said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Now, now,
Elizabeth. You know I must go. You could come with me but I'll be
busy all day, and London is not a place for you to be with nothing
to do except shop. And you'll tire of that in a week. It's much
better you stay here. It won't be much longer and things will be
settled," he said patiently.

"I suppose a
month isn't forever," she sighed. "Though it feels like it at the
moment."

"Come along.
We will have a lovely lunch out here - our first lunch on our
terrace."

"Yes," she
said, attempting to smile her best smile, and had a fleeting
thought that he had said, 'our terrace'. But the smell of food
snapped her back.

"Actually I am
rather hungry after that ride."

The cook had
prepared a very special meal. They were served a cool broth,
followed by fish caught on the grounds that morning, basted in a
rich lemon butter sauce. For pudding she had made Elizabeth's
favourite. Fresh fruit trifle. It was a delicious, leisurely lunch
they both enjoyed immensely.

"My goodness -
that was divine. And it's so lovely out here. Thank you," she said,
twinkling across the table at him.

"I think
perhaps a long walk is in order," he suggested.

"Yes. Then a
nap!"

He laughed,
the suggestion tickling him, and together they wandered into the
rose garden, walked around the lily pond, watched the swans, and
headed around to the side of the house. They had been walking about
twenty minutes when Lord Michael led her up the lawn toward some
thick bushes.

"Where are we
going?" she asked, staring at the brush.

"You'll see,"
he said, glancing around to make sure they were out of sight.

"Come through
here."

He stepped in
front of her and led her through the heavy growth. A moment later
she realized they were at the door to their secret chamber. Pushing
the door open he stepped inside, pulling her in quickly and bolting
the door behind them.

"Look," he
said softly, and gestured into the room.

The room was
filled with a beam of light allowed by a window at the top of the
chamber. It was small, and from the outside it would appear
non-consequential, but it was enough to bathe the chamber in a soft
sunlit glow. She could see the shutter that had been opened,
allowing the sunbeam its entry.

"It took some
doing to get it to move," he declared. "But it can stay that way
until winter."

"How on earth
did you find it?" she asked, staring up at the arched window.

"Grace did.
When she was cleaning she saw the sunlit outline," he replied.

"Grace. My
sweet Grace. How clever of her."

Glancing
around she saw two decorative urns filled with flowers, a tray of
sweets and a decanter of wine with two glasses.

"Change the
flowers as they die," he said, "so our chamber will retain their
lovely fragrance for my return, and there are thirty pieces of
chocolate. Have one piece a day so you can keep count of the days
that have passed, and the days before we are back here
together."

"Oh Master,"
she breathed. "What a wonderful thought."

"And you have
my permission to come down here and pleasure yourself and think of
me," he continued, taking her hair into his hands and curling it
around his fingers. "As long as you are very, very careful that no
one sees you."

"Yes, Master,"
she said, a lump in her throat. "I will be extra, very careful,"
she promised, her voice quivering.

"Shhh - no
tears or I shall have to spank you harder than I intended," he
warned.

"But it's so
difficult," she stammered, and as much as she tried to swallow them
a few managed to find their way down her cheeks.

"I know my
dearest, but the time will fly by," he promised. "And now I am
going to spank you. It will keep you in good stead until I return,"
he murmured, huskily, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling the
sweet scent.

Slowly,
deliberately and methodically, he turned her around and began to
undress her. First the laces and buttons one by one at the back of
her dress, sliding it off her shoulders and on to the floor where
he left it in a puddle around her feet. Her upper undergarments
came up and over her head. Turning her around he perched on the
foot of the bed and had her straddle his lap. Taking each nipple in
turn he licked and sucked gently. She threw her head back, moaning
in pleasure, then his mouth traveled to her neck as his hands
cupped and squeezed, continuing the work his lips had started.

Standing her
up he untied her drawers and let them drop off, then taking her
wrist pulled her over his lap, making sure her top half was on the
bed, her feet still on the floor. Raising one of his legs he placed
it across her knees.

"Such a
beautiful sight," he murmured, fondling her waiting cheeks. "Your
pretty bottom naked and ready for my hand. I think I shall spank
you quite firmly - just to make sure I leave you nice and hot. You
will not be riding Constance comfortably tomorrow," he warned.

"Yes, Master,"
she breathed, thinking she just might, so she could feel the
consequence of his hand all over again.

The slaps
started slowly at first, as slowly as he had undressed her. Rising
and falling, cheek to cheek, one after the other. Remaining clothed
and spanking her while she was totally naked held a unique appeal,
and though his cock was protesting its confinement he found the
entire scene profoundly gratifying.

"You better
behave yourself while I'm away, young lady," he said sternly,
increasing the force and pace of his smacks. "And I mean it," he
added.

"Yes, Master,"
Elizabeth replied, knowing he did.

"If I receive any letters from James," he continued, starting
to move his hand to the delectable area where her thighs met her
cheeks, "with any news of
disrespectful
behaviour
," he stated, with extra hard
smacks on the last two words, "or any form of
bad behaviour
at all," he added,
repeating the extra zing once again, "when I return I shall do so
with my rod."

"Oh Master,"
she cried. "I promise to be very good indeed."

Her bottom was
starting to burn, a deep sting spreading across her entire
backside.

"I am trusting
you to be an excellent example for his young lady," he said, his
hand increasing its pace, "and I trust this firm spanking will stay
fresh in your mind. Every time you come down here you will remember
this," he decreed. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Oh yes,
Master. Very clear. My bottom is on fire."