The Inheritance (2 page)

"No. Thank
you. I think we had best move along," Lord Michael replied. "Are
you quite ready, Elizabeth?"

"Yes. I am.
I'm quite hungry actually."

"You're not
hungry," James piped in. "You eat like a bird. You're just anxious
to be out and about."

She was about
to shoot him a retort, but a quick glance at Lord Michael reminded
her that it was Saturday night and it might be a very special one
at that. She'd best watch her manners, so she stayed silent,
promising herself she would be sure and rebuke him at her earliest
opportunity.

Lord Michael
ushered her out to the waiting carriage and held the door for her.
It was a handsome outfit with four black horses, each with four
white stockings. The front pair were pawing and snorting, anxious
to be on their way. As Elizabeth settled into the plush seat,
followed by James and Lord Michael, her father waved his goodbye,
hoping that she would return later in the evening on Lord Michael's
arm with exciting news.

Lord Michael
knew exactly what George Barrett was expecting and doubtless
Elizabeth shared her father's expectation. But he rarely did that
which was expected of him. Quite the opposite in fact. Though he
had every intention of making Elizabeth his bride at some point, he
would ask her at a time of his own choosing.

Would they be
disappointed? Most certainly. But that did not change his resolve.
How his adorable Elizabeth chose to behave when she realized her
hopes for the evening would not be met would be most interesting,
and however she dealt with her dismay he was ready to handle it
accordingly.

The elegant
eatery had many patrons and the special table Lord Michael had
reserved was set in a corner against a wall. It offered an
excellent view of the restaurant and all who entered and exited.
Lord Michael held the chair for Elizabeth, then he and James
settled at the table.

The restaurant
had much on offer. The game was abundant. Venison, hare, beef,
mutton, and fowl, which Elizabeth preferred, included geese, duck
and pheasant. As James had so rightly pointed out earlier in the
evening, Elizabeth ordered little. Just a small portion of duck
with some peas in mint, while the men ate heartily. They had been
tramping most of the day and their appetites reflected their
exertions.

Throughout the
meal Elizabeth kept glancing at Lord Michael. Would he ask her
here, making a grand gesture in front of so many, including James?
Or would he wait until they were alone in his house where he could
be romantic and alluring? Either would be fine with her. She just
couldn't stand the suspense.

When the meal
came to its end and no proposal had surfaced, she convinced herself
that a marvellous, romantic scene would be waiting for her at the
Manor. He would be the gallant suitor and drop to one knee, tell
her—

No
, she told herself.
That's not something he would
do
...

She couldn't
imagine him on one knee for any reason. Perhaps he would kiss her
passionately and tell her how desperately he loved her.

By the time
they left she had no idea how a proposal from Lord Michael might be
presented. The mystery created in her an anticipation she could
scarcely contain. As the horses thundered on their way to his home
she could not stop herself from being a little more flirtatious
than usual, touching his arm across the width of their seats,
tittering at most everything he said. At one point James asked if
she was feeling quite well. She waved her hand merrily in the air
and told him she had never felt better in her entire life.

Once in the
house James politely excused himself, claiming there were some
books Lord Michael had just acquired in which he was particularly
interested. It always amused Elizabeth, the way in which her
brother would create some plausible excuse when it came time to
leave them alone. She giggled at him and he gave her a bit of a
scowl before leaving the room.

"So,
Elizabeth. Tell me about your week," Lord Michael said, sitting
down on the large, leather couch. "And come and sit next to
me."

Elizabeth
floated across to him feeling very happy. Surely this would be the
moment she'd been waiting for, though he was maintaining their
ritual. He would always sit for a little while and ask about her
week. They didn't talk much on their Saturday morning walks. He
just enjoyed silently wandering through the grounds. If she
attempted conversation he would answer in short sentences and
sometimes not at all.

Settling next
to him she told him about her ride on Constance earlier in the
week, how she had jumped over some very big logs and Constance had
bucked and played afterwards because she'd been so excited by the
sport.

"And I love it
too," Elizabeth said, enthusiastically. "It feels like flying."

Lord Michael
didn't like to hear about her escapades on her horse, but he knew
it was a source of great joy for her so did his best to moderate
his criticism.

"The logs
weren't too big I hope," he said, firmly. "You're out there all by
yourself Elizabeth. If anything should happen there would be no one
around to help you."

Elizabeth
wanted to tell him to not be such a worry wart. Constance was a
fabulous horse and could do anything. And she was an excellent
rider. Nothing was going to happen and he was foolish to think such
things. But she had learned not to speak to him in such a manner.
If she did she would be over his knee in a heartbeat, her bottom
being spanked with gusto while being lectured about arguing with
him.

"Yes, Lord
Michael. I will make sure not to jump anything big," she promised,
crossing her fingers under the folds of her dress, thinking his
instruction an absurd notion. The bigger the log the better as far
as she was concerned.

"Make sure you
don't," he said sternly. "I care about you and don't want any harm
to come to you."

Her heart did
a little jump. Now! He was going to ask her now! It was the perfect
opening sentence. She stared at him, slightly breathless.

Lord Michael
smiled at her. She was delightfully transparent. He knew about her
crossed fingers. He knew she would be out in the fields jumping
tree trunks that she shouldn't. And he knew at some point he would
catch her breaking her 'promise' and she would be punished in no
uncertain terms.

He suspected
it would be on one of his surprise midweek visits as his carriage
was headed up to the house that he would spy her galloping over the
fields, and up and over a big obstacle she had no business
attempting. He would make sure she wouldn't be able to sit on her
horse for a week! Her riding crop would dance upon her naked bottom
until it was striped to his satisfaction, the crop being the
perfect instrument of her discipline. If she wished to disobey him
and ride her horse in a dangerous manner, what better choice to
administer her punishment than that which she held in her hand
every time she rode. He might even whip her in the stables.

But then there was the
other
thing
on the young woman's mind. She was
sitting there with bated breath waiting for his proposal. Alas she
was to be sorely disappointed.

"Elizabeth,"
he said, gently. "Please assume position number one."

What? Oh! Maybe he wants to ask me while I'm kneeling in front
of him
, she thought.

She
immediately dropped on her knees and looked up at him
expectantly.

"Give me your
hands."

Here it comes!
Oh my! Here it comes!

Breathlessly
she lifted her arms at her elbows, holding her hands in front of
her.

"You have such
delicate hands," he said, warmly, taking hold of them gently.
"Delicate and soft. Very clean and well scrubbed."

"Yes, my
Lord," she answered, her heart beating furiously.

"I am a bit
weary tonight," he declared. "James and I walked several miles and
that meal has made me feel like a rest."

What is he
talking about? What does this have to do with - with - me and
him?

"Since it is
our anniversary," he began, glancing at the shimmering collar
around her neck, "I think it entirely appropriate that tonight be
different that our other nights."

That sounds better
.

"Normally I
would take great pleasure in your body, from which your pleasure
would be derived. Isn't that right, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, my
Lord," she replied, a little confused.

What's he
talking about?

"Most times I
spank you. Either because you need punishment for something that
happened during the week, or because I believe I need to tan your
pretty backside for good measure. And other times, simply because I
wish to do so. But any of these brings forth great excitement in
your cunt, does it not, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth felt
a deep, red blush cross her face. No matter how often he spoke
lewdly she could not help but be embarrassed. She flicked eyes
down, unable to look at him.

Whenever Lord
Michael wanted to put her in a place of humility or take the
cheekiness out of her, all he had to do was say something
licentious and the girl would immediately turn crimson, drop her
eyes down and fall silent. He could see the expectations of a
proposal had fallen from her mind, replaced with deep modesty and
mortification at his words.

"Tonight
however, it is time to show me that you are still deserving of the
collar that sits so beautifully around your neck," he said, firmly.
"And from what I have heard your behaviour of late has been a
little less obedient and a little more naughty. Is that correct,
Elizabeth? Tell me the truth now."

"A bit," she
admitted, subdued and quiet. She bit her lip. The evening had taken
an unexpected and most unwelcome turn.

"Because?" he
pressed.

"Because
sometimes I just get a bit bored," she confessed. "And it's hard to
be good all the time."

"I see. Very
well. First, we shall deal with my needs. You will show me that you
are still worthy of the collar," he proclaimed. 'It has been a
while since you worshipped my cock with those lovely lips of
yours."

Elizabeth
gulped. It had indeed been quite some time since she had taken his
manhood into her mouth.

"Once I have
rested from my release I shall see about renewing the frame of mind
appropriate for a young lady. And one more thing."

"Yes, my
Lord?"

"Over the last
several weeks you have not been referring to me as Master. I don't
know why you have reverted to my Lord, but I am your Master and in
private I shall have you address me as such!" he declared, a
strict, sharp clip to his words.

She gulped.
She could not recall the last time he'd spoken to her in such a
harsh tone.

"First things
first - your attention to my cock," he said, purposely using the
lascivious word.

He was still
holding her hands and he guided them to his waist, ordering her to
unfasten the two buttons holding up the flap in the front of his
trousers. Completely unprepared for this turn of events, and
depressed it was clear there would be no proposal, she did so
tentatively and without the enthusiasm he expected.

"Elizabeth,"
he said, firmly, "do you not wish to do as I have instructed?"

"Yes, my
Lord," she said quickly.

"It does not
appear so," he said brusquely. "It appears you are hesitant."

"Oh, no, my -
I mean, Master. I just wasn't expecting - um - this."

He studied her
face. She did look very sad. He did not give her what her heart
wanted so she was disappointed. No matter. He was still her Master
and she must still obey him with willingness and devotion. He could
certainly help her along.

"Across my
knee at once," he barked.

Suppressing a
groan she crawled over his lap, leaving her feet on the floor and
burying her face in the cool, tufted leather. He positioned her as
he wished, and his hands on her body moving her this way and that
began to have the desired affect.

When he was
finally pleased with her position he lifted her skirt and separated
her pantaloons. She let out a long, deep sigh. Just being across
his lap made things feel right again. It was where she
belonged.

James had his
own quarters in the Manor. It was up the stairs and to the right,
while Lord Michael's was to the left. There was a large area
between the two suites so James had little awareness of exactly
what transpired between his sister and the man of the house, though
from conversations with Lord Michael and Elizabeth's improved
behaviour, he was convinced it involved corporal punishment. How
much more transpired between the two he did not know, nor did he
care to. He had no salacious thoughts about Elizabeth. But he did
have a desire to see exactly how Lord Michael dealt with her.

Whenever he
would leave the couple he would politely take his leave with some
kind of excuse and head to his quarters, usually to nap until the
tap on the door told him Elizabeth was ready to leave. But this
particular night when he said he was going to the library he did in
fact, do just that.

The library
was on the opposite side of the house quite a distance from the
sumptuous living room, but James had already ascertained how he
could return and view any proceedings from a private and discreet
distance. Should Lord Michael take Elizabeth upstairs to his rooms
before initiating any type of discipline, or should he begin to
play with her in a salacious manner he would quickly depart and
quietly retire.

So it was that
he was standing completely concealed behind a large screen in the
adjoining dining room, and his long held wish for a view of his
cheeky sister being chastised was about to be granted. That he had
witnessed such a turn of events was a little surprising. He had
anticipated some kind of scolding, and was surprised Lord Michael
was spanking her outside the safely of the locked doors of his
quarters.