The Inheritance (25 page)

It was Roy who
had started the chain of events that led to her rescue. Aware and
bright, the young man had noticed Andrew Carrington would loiter at
the stables until Elizabeth arrived, then after some polite
conversation pretend there was somewhere he needed to be.

Having found
Mr Carrington's actions both perplexing and worrisome, Roy alerted
James and told him it was through the forest the horseman would
venture every day. James decided to make it a habit to take walks
there, keeping an eye open in case of any trouble.

One afternoon
he had stumbled upon Andrew Carrington enjoying a picnic by the
small pond. Covertly peering through the trees Lydia thought the
scene quite odd. What man would sit by himself and have a picnic?
James didn't see anything peculiar about one catching some private
time in such a lovely setting, but Lydia insisted they return and
monitor the area. She had been right. They discovered the same
scene several days in a row.

That they
would see Elizabeth riding in the front fields both before and
after their walks made James uneasy. After checking with Roy and
discovering the manipulated conversations were not only continuing,
but lengthening in nature, he wrote to Lord Michael.

As soon as he
received the letter Lord Michael knew Andrew Carrington was
plotting and sent an urgent message back that he would return
forthwith, riding Coalpepper - much faster than a carriage - and
James could expect him late morning two days hence, and would they
please continue to make sure Elizabeth did not follow Andrew
Carrington anywhere, especially through the trees.

On the fateful
morning James and Lydia had started to take their walk through the
forest, but as they neared Lydia suggested they stay and wait for
Lord Michael, concerned that if they were in the forest when he
arrived he would have no idea where they were.

They had seen
Elizabeth head to the stables but had no reason to suspect she
would venture further than the fields where she had been riding
every day. It wasn't until they were back inside the house when
James, idly glancing out the windows, noticed Elizabeth was not in
sight.

Glancing
across to the entrance of the forest he thought he saw the flash of
something akin to the sun hitting silver. He had run to the stables
and discovered both she and her mare had not returned.

Realizing she
must have gone into the woods, he was about to head off when the
clatter of hooves caught his attention. Turning quickly he saw Lord
Michael riding up, his horse sweating and panting from the long
journey, and running behind him was Lydia.

Not wasting
any time James quickly relayed the information and the directions
to the meadow by the lake. Lord Michael had bolted away, with James
and Lydia hurrying behind on foot. He had made it just in time.

Another five
minutes and... but it was far too upsetting to consider what would
have happened to his precious one, and shaking off the thought,
headed down to lunch.

Feeling much
better having washed off the dust and grit, Lord Michael entered
the dining room. James and Lydia were already seated and several
plates of food rested upon the table. He was hungry and thirsty,
and though relieved Elizabeth was safe and sound upstairs he was
still extremely upset by the entire affair.

"Perhaps some
wine," James suggested, seeing the consternation on his face.
"Might take the edge off."

"Splendid
idea," Lord Michael agreed, sitting down and reaching for the
decanter.

"What an
absolutely dreadful man!" Lydia exclaimed. "Dreadful! If you'd not
punched him on the nose, Lord Michael, I would have."

James shot her
a look of reprimand, but Lydia too was still most upset, and
oblivious to his warning glance.

"Don't you
think we should contact the police? He should be arrested and put
away," she continued.

"He's probably
long gone by now and I would prefer the matter be kept private,"
Lord Michael replied, solemnly. "And I'm sure Elizabeth would
prefer to put the entire event out of her mind."

"I hope she
doesn't forget too quickly," James commented.

"Hmmm, yes, I
see your point," Lord Michael agreed. "I can assure you she won't
be so foolish again. I believe this has been a valuable lesson -
one which shall be underscored when I speak with her," he finished
grimly.

James knew
exactly what type of conversation Lord Michael had in mind and it
had his full support. He was fully aware that Lord Michael had told
Elizabeth to keep her distance from the scoundrel. She had defied
him and the outcome could have resulted in dire consequences.

"Well I think
you're both wrong," Lydia declared vehemently. "That man should be
locked up. He's a danger and what he did to Elizabeth cannot go
unpunished. I shall be happy to contact the local constabulary
myself..."

"Lydia," James
interrupted sharply. "I think that's quite enough."

She snapped
her head back and looked up at him. Lord Michael noticed a deep
blush move up her neck and across her face.

"Lord Michael
has had a long journey and it's been an upsetting morning for us
all. Carrying on so dramatically is not helping the situation. The
authorities will be kept out of this and there's no more to be said
about the subject," he finished sternly.

Lord Michael
was impressed with the delivery of the scolding. It was entirely
appropriate. James had told him Lydia was inappropriately outspoken
but this was the first time he'd witnessed one of her outbursts
first hand. Lydia turned her head slowly, the redness of her cheeks
still apparent.

"My Lord," she
began, quietly, her voice a shadow of its earlier self. "I
sincerely apologize. I'm sure you and James know what is best in a
situation like this. I am just very angry that he tried to hurt
Elizabeth and I got a bit carried away. Please forgive me. I was
presumptuous and spoke out of turn."

"Your apology
is accepted," Lord Michael said, smiling at her. "I understand. It
was all very disturbing. Now let us have some lunch. I am quite
ravenous."

The cook had
prepared a hearty meal of lamb stew with various vegetables and a
large cake for dessert, and when he had finished eating Lord
Michael felt much calmer. Leaning back in his chair he stifled a
yawn.

"You look very
tired, my Lord," Lydia said. "After your long ride and all that
happened you must be exhausted."

"I am - I do
confess," he agreed, yawning again. "And the wine certainly helped
calm me down."

"Perhaps you
should take an afternoon nap," James suggested.

"That is
excellent advice," Lord Michael said, rising slowly from the table.
"Thank you I shall. After that wonderful meal I'm not sure I'll
feel much like dinner at seven, but I might make an appearance for
a brandy later."

"I'm sure
we'll feel the same," James agreed, nodding his head.

'Very well -
until later then. But do knock on my door should Elizabeth make an
appearance. Though I suspect she'll sleep for some time."

"We will. Have
a nice rest," Lydia smiled.

"Thank you,"
he replied, and walked slowly from the room.

As soon as
Lord Michael was out of earshot, James turned to Lydia. He'd not
had occasion to spank her since she had upset Elizabeth two weeks
before when he had taken her over his knee in the woods, though
many nights he had fantasized about the various ways he would like
to do so.

"I believe,
young lady, a conversation of our own is in order."

Wide-eyed,
Lydia looked back at him.

"I - uh - yes,
James," she stammered, hoping she was about to be the recipient of
a strong scolding and not another spanking, though the thought of
finding herself over his lap caused her stomach to flip in a most
peculiar, but not unpleasant manner.

"Do you know
what kind of conversation I mean?" he asked, beginning the
anticipatory element of his punishment.

Her face began
to flush anew and she dropped her eyes to her lap. Two of the young
maids appeared to clear the table and Lydia had to wait in silence
until they had left. They seemed to take forever, and at one point
had to suppress the desire to snap at them to hurry up.

"Now then
Lydia, answer my question please. Do you know what kind of
conversation I mean?" he repeated.

"Um - you're
going to lecture me?" she quivered.

"Most
definitely. But I will be lecturing you," he continued, leaning
forward and dropping his voice to barely a whisper, "while you are
bent over a chair with your bottom exposed. And you know what my
hand will be doing."

Lydia felt her
heart jump into her throat and the colour that crossed her face was
joined by a hot burning sensation. She wanted to retort, to plead,
to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind and she
doubted she could utter the words even if they had. Taking her hand
he pulled her from the chair and led her out of the room, then down
the hall and across the wide foyer into the study.

"Sit on that
couch, please," he said sternly, gesturing to the large leather
sofa by the fireplace.

She stumbled
forward, heart racing, and sat demurely on the edge of the soft
leather, watching him lock the study doors and move to the window
to close the heavy drapes. Then, to her surprise and puzzlement, he
sat on the edge of the desk and proceeded to remove his boots.

"Please raise
your skirt and lay yourself over the back of the couch," he
ordered, standing in his stocking feet.

She gulped,
frozen to the spot. It was one thing for him to have yanked her
across his lap in the forest but this was something else
altogether. They were in a room in the house. He spent every
afternoon in this room. Others were in this room. And to have to
raise her own skirt and place herself in a requested position - it
was so...

"I'm waiting,
Lydia. If you are not as I have asked you to be by the time I count
to five, I shall be forced to increase your discipline
significantly," he warned.

This device he
had learned several years before while attending a very interesting
evening with some friends, most of whom were older than he. One of
the fellows, another lover of the rod, had explained how he could
control his wife very easily after spanking her severely for once
having called his bluff.

The story -
long and detailed - had stuck with James, and he had since learned
it was common practice. If Lydia did not obey him he would follow
the example and proceed with exactly the same lesson. He began to
count, slowly walking towards her.

"Two!" he
said, sharply.

"James, Sir, I
beg of you," she pleaded. As he drew closer she saw a fiercely
determined look on his face.

"Three!"

"Oooohhh," she
cried, and hurriedly hoisted her dress, gathered it around her
waist and kneeled on the buttoned leather, then taking a deep
breath she bent herself over the back of the leather couch.

"Wise
decision," James announced.

Lydia was
expecting him to position himself behind her, but to her surprise
he walked around the couch, and taking the folds of her dress where
they laid around her waist, pulled them all the way over her
head.

"A little more
forward and drop your arms down, please," he instructed, and
watched in satisfaction as she wiggled salaciously, moving her hips
further over the edge.

It was a
delightful sight, her round, plump cheeks moving from side to side
as she attempted to do as he said. When she found the position that
pleased him he stood directly in front of her and spread his
legs.

"Take hold of
my ankles, please," he said, firmly.

Lydia was
filled with humiliation. She could feel her bottom was very high
indeed, and with his legs across her back and her hands all the way
down, she would have not the slightest opportunity to cover or
defend herself. Moving her hands she gripped his ankles tightly. In
spite of her embarrassing and mortifying position she found she was
glad of the support it provided.

His cock,
having begun to stir as soon as she had lifted her skirt and turned
her bottom to him, sprang to full attention, and with great joy he
feasted his eyes upon the provocative sight before him. He
considered spanking her over her drawers and then unveiling the
package, but it had been some time since he had spanked a naked
bottom and he wanted to see the rise of the pink blush from the
very first smack.

He was pleased
to see she was wearing the drawers with the convenient slit. There
were some he'd had the pleasure to view that were joined. It was
becoming the new style, but he much preferred the convenience of
just moving aside the flap. It made things so much easier.

"I shall spank
one side then the other," he declared. "You are deserving of two
separate spankings. Please explain to me why."

"It's very
d-d-difficult to, uh, speak, Sir," she stuttered.

"I'm waiting,"
he warned, ignoring her plea of discomfort, and slowly began to
push aside the fabric from her left cheek. Seeing her skin, so
white and ready for his hand, was exquisitely satisfying.

"B-because I -
I spoke about p-punching - a m-man - too loudly, and th-then uh
-disagreed w-with L-Lord M-Michael," she managed, stammering
pitifully.

"Correct. Not
only did you suggest you would punch a gentleman on the nose, such
a crass and unladylike thing to say under any circumstances," he
scolded, "but then suggested you would take matters into your own
hands and contact the authorities, directly against the wishes of
both Lord Michael and myself."

"Y-yes s-sir.
So s-sorry," she cried, realizing just how right James was.

"Do you
believe you should be punished for such outlandish behaviour?" he
asked, sternly.