The Inheritance (22 page)

"Yes,
J-J-James," she stammered, then added quickly, "Sir."

Lifting his
hand, bending back his fingers, he let fly with a hard, vigorous
smack. She squealed loudly as it landed, bucking on his lap, then
finally stuttered, "Thank - thank you, James, Sir - for - for -
correcting me and the p-p-punishment for speaking out of turn."

"Close
enough," he announced. "After this last smack you will say the
following; I'm sorry, Sir. If I speak out of turn again please will
you spank me even harder?"

"Ooooh... yes,
Sir," she cried, not even realizing she had referred to him as
'sir' without thought or prompting.

Raising his
palm he repeated the slap, smacking down with gusto, matching the
severity of the previous swat. She kicked out and writhed, crying
out her pain.

"I'm soooo
sorry, Sir. I promise! I'm soooorrry," she wailed. "If I speak - if
I speak wrongly again please spank me even harder..."

James was
satisfied. Immensely satisfied. He stared down at her beautifully
round bottom and could almost discern her scarlet cheeks through
the thin cotton of her protective covering. His intention to spank
her hard had been met. She had upset Elizabeth very much and it was
nothing less than she deserved.

He waited a
few minutes for her wiggling to stop, then smoothed his fingers
across her backside, relishing the feel of the radiant heat his
hands had produced. She would be sore for the rest of the day and
probably tender the next as well.

"Come along
Lydia," he said, helping her to her feet and standing up alongside
her.

She looked up
at him, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling, and placing his
arms around her he held her tenderly.

"You are under
my authority now, Lydia, and I shall punish you as I deem
necessary. Any time you wish to leave my side you may, but if you
choose to remain with me that is how it shall be. Do we understand
each other?"

"Yes, James,
Sir," she sniffled.

"And one more
thing."

"Yes?"

"At some point
in the not too distant future you will tell me your history."

He watched as
a deep crease crinkled her brow, and the sadness he had first
detected weeks past in the small parlour flickered across her
eyes.

"When you are
ready," he added, his voice softening. "But you must tell me
everything. And when you do, you must not leave out a speck. You
are carrying a heavy burden Lydia, and you need no longer do so
alone."

He felt her
tremble against him, then let out a deep sigh.

"I don't know
what to say," she stammered, "except - thank you, James. I promise.
When I'm able I will."

Lydia rested
her head against his shoulder. As hot and stingy and scorched as
her bottom was, and as sorry as she felt for having hurt Elizabeth,
she was more grateful for her life than she had been in very long
time.

While James
was showing Lydia the error of her ways, Elizabeth was riding
Constance. Usually, after she had been soundly spanked she would
wait a day or two before mounting up, but she wanted her tender
derriere at the mercy of the saddle. Her aching heart was comforted
by the rasping reminder of her Master's loving discipline.

She knew James
had taken Lydia for a walk. She had spied them entering the forest
by the back terrace, and Elizabeth could just imagine the scolding
the girl was in for. She idly wondered if James offered Lydia more
than just a spoken reprimand. It would be no surprise to her if he
was a disciplinarian like her Master. The fact that he had
threatened to spank her that very morning was proof in itself.

Her bottom
would only allow her to walk her mare, and bored with meandering
around the front fields she decided to take her into the woods near
the stable yard. Under normal circumstances she would trot between
the trees and once a few yards in, gallop along the track that time
and many horses' hooves had created. Constance decided this was
exactly the plan and immediately began prancing as they moved
forward.

"Constance
stop it," Elizabeth said sharply. The bouncing was extremely
disagreeable to her sensitive backside, but Constance wouldn't
listen. She wanted to run.

"Easy, easy,"
Elizabeth said gently, trying a different tact and stroking her
horse's neck.

Much like her
owner, the mare was stubborn, and tossed her head in refusal,
pulling at the reins, trying to canter off.

"Pull her head
to your knee," a male voice shouted.

Elizabeth spun
around and saw Andrew Carrington trotting forward on Zeus.

"Pull her head
to your knee," he repeated. "Trust me. Do it now!"

Elizabeth,
rarely fearful on any horse, had been feeling a little panicky.
Constance was being very naughty, aching to gallop away. Not
knowing what else to do and knowing Andrew Carrington was a skilful
rider, she grabbed a rein and pulled the horse's nose into her leg.
In a few quick seconds the mare came to a stop.

"Thank you, Mr
Carrington," she panted. "I can't believe I didn't know that
trick."

"A horse can't
trot or gallop if its body is bent around," he said, drawing near.
"If you do that every time she tries to take off, in very short
order you'll have much more control and she'll stop the silliness
altogether."

"My goodness,
I'm very grateful to you," she replied, meaning it.

"You are a
naturally gifted rider," he said, shooting her his dazzling smile.
"You just need some solid tutoring and you could become an
excellent horsewoman."

"I'm already
an excellent horsewoman," she snipped, the old Elizabeth coming to
the fore.

"Yes you are,"
he laughed. "But your excellence could be even more so if you'd
allow me the pleasure of giving you a few pointers. Like the one
that just stopped your horse from bolting away."

While
Elizabeth was grateful for his rescue and the advice, her burning
bottom was a stark reminder that she had no business talking to
him. But at least this meeting was in the forest and out of sight
of the house. God forbid James and Lydia were to spy her talking
with him. She had no doubt Lord Michael would have informed James
of the rules.

"I'm afraid
that's impossible, Mr Carrington," she said formally. "Now if you
would please excuse me I must get Constance back to the barnyard
and return to meet my brother and his guest."

"Just a
minute," he said, expertly moving Zeus to block her path.

"Sir!" she
exclaimed. "What are you doing? Please allow me to pass."

"Not until you
explain to me why you have been so aloof," he replied, firmly. "We
were getting along splendidly and then for no reason you became
very cool indeed. I thought we were going to become great friends.
And it begs saying, I am working for you now. I think I need to be
able to have a conversation with the new owner of Hanley Hall if
needs be," he finished.

Elizabeth
didn't quite know how to respond. He was right about her being the
new owner and that he was under her employ. It was odd to think of
such a thing but it was the state of affairs. And they had been
having a very happy time riding together before the 'incident'.
There was no way for him to know why she had unexpectedly become
formal and unfriendly. Perhaps she did owe him an explanation.

"Well? I'm
waiting," he said, staring at her.

Gosh, he reminds me of Lord Michael speaking to me that
way
, she thought. As if on cue, Constance
moved and her sore bottom reminded her she had better be very
careful.

"I understand
and while I do apologize," she started slowly, trying to find the
right words, "I am spoken for and my - that is - he - my betrothed
- does not wish me to become too familiar with you. Or any other
gentleman," she added quickly.

"I don't see
how riding together is familiar," he said slowly, studying her.

She was
flustered and he sensed an advantage.

"Who is this
fellow? I could talk with him and help him understand that there is
no harm in allowing us to be on friendly terms. I could escort you
when you ride out here in the forest. It would be safer than you
being out here alone," he finished.

"Forgive me
but that's not a particularly good idea," she hastily replied,
thinking how Lord Michael would react to such a suggestion. "He was
most upset that you wanted me to sit astride Zeus with you."

"Well I can
understand that," he answered, his cunning rising to the challenge.
"I will talk to him and apologize. I didn't know you were spoken
for and most certainly would not have invited you if I had," he
lied.

He had not
been aware of Lord Michael and their courtship, but he would have
attempted the move nonetheless. The new owner of Hanley Hall was a
prize, and a beautiful one at that.

"Perhaps I
could discuss the matter with him, but it's impossible at the
moment. He's just left and will not return for upwards of a month,"
she informed him, a fresh wave of sadness washing over her as she
spoke the words.

"Well then,"
he declared, thinking this very good news indeed, "I shall be happy
to offer you some friendly companionship while he is away. I'm sure
he wouldn't want you being lonely and riding through these woods
unescorted," he continued, oozing his manipulative charm. "Not to
mention, if you decide you'd like to ride Zeus I wouldn't be happy
about it unless I am there."

"I do
appreciate your offer, Mr Covington—"

"Andrew," he
interrupted, stating his name firmly.

"I made a
promise that I would not ride Zeus until Lord Michael - that's my
betrothed - until he returns," she answered, avoiding the point of
the interruption. "Now I really must return Constance to the stable
and head up to the house. Would you please be so kind as to let me
pass?"

"Not until you
agree to call me Andrew," he insisted.

"Very well,"
she replied, thinking it the only way she would be able to escape
him. "Please will you let me pass, Andrew?"

He moved Zeus,
clearing her way, and Elizabeth asked Constance to move forward.
The mare took a few tentative steps but then refused to budge. She
had enjoyed standing next to her Greek God and was loathe to
leave.

"You need help
with that mare," Andrew said, grinning.

"I'm fine
thank you," Elizabeth quipped, and smacked the mare's rump with her
crop. Just like her owner it was what the mare needed. The mare
immediately moved her feet and headed towards the stable.

"I'll look
forward to seeing you soon," he called.

"Thank you for
your help, Mr Carrington," she called back over her shoulder.

"Andrew," he
said sternly.

In spite of
the circumstances his tone reminded her so much of her Master, it
registered an instant impact, and she felt the familiar warm
wetness between her legs. She hurried her mare along, who was still
tossing her head in protest.

"Connie, my
bottom is stinging and my heart is aching. I really do not need
this nonsense," she said, trying to make her behave.

As if
understanding her Mistress's state the mare abruptly settled, and
dropping her head walked steadily forward. When Elizabeth heard
Zeus's thundering hooves galloping away she couldn't help but think
how much fun it would have been to gallop along beside him.

Pulling into
the stables she dismounted and handed the reins to Roy. It was a
comfort to have the young man at Hanley Hall. Constance adored him
and Elizabeth never had to worry as long as Roy was in charge of
her care.

Turning and
walking up to the house, her bottom slightly burning, she
considered Andrew Carrington's words. While she was used to riding
alone he was right. It would be much wiser not to gallop through
the forest by herself. She wouldn't be able to count on Lydia. She
couldn't gallop anywhere, let alone through the trees and over
fallen logs should they happen on the path. And if James wasn't
courting Lydia he was buried in the study. And he didn't really
enjoy riding with her anyway.

She thought
perhaps she should write to her Master and explain the situation
and ask his permission. What was it he had said? If she wasn't sure
she shouldn't act without consulting him.

But even as
the notion crossed her mind she knew what he would say. He didn't
want her to have anything to do with Andrew Carrington, though for
the life of her she couldn't understand why. The man had just told
her that he didn't know she was spoken for. He had made an innocent
mistake. And he was in her employ now. How could she not have
conversations with the man in charge of her horses? It unexpectedly
became a rather confusing situation.

While
Elizabeth was ambling up to the house, Andrew Carrington had
reached the far end of the wood, and had pulled the powerful
stallion to a stop, having just discovered a lovely meadow that led
down to a small pond. He thought it would be a delightful spot for
a picnic - and a little seduction - with one particularly
vulnerable young lady. He knew very well what could be accomplished
in a very short amount of time.

Elizabeth
walked into the house and found Lydia and James in the living room.
Lydia was standing by the window and James was busy looking at the
morning mail.

"Sister," he
said as she entered the room. "How was your ride?"

She was
tempted to tell him about her meeting with Andrew but thought
better of it. There was really nothing to tell and there was no
need to create a drama about a non-event. She was sure Lord Michael
had informed James of his dislike of Andrew so no doubt James would
scold her for even saying hello to the man, let alone enter into an
entire conversation, no matter how innocent.