The Inheritance (8 page)

But as he
reached out to touch her arm he changed his mind. He would stay
close, but she seemed very confident and calm and he didn't want to
do anything that might retard her progress. Taking a deep breath he
watched her move forward and offer the large, snorting animal the
carrot.

As the horse
took it between his powerful teeth, Elizabeth reached up and began
to stroke his wide, powerfully muscled neck. The stallion stopped
scraping his foot against the ground, and letting out a large snort
appeared to settle down. Lord Michael was astonished at the sudden
change in the horse's demeanour.

"She's got a
way wiv 'er," the stable lad said, admiring the immediate
connection between them.

"Yes, she
does," Lord Michael replied. "She loves horses. Has a very spirited
mare of own."

As he finished
the sentence an idea popped into his head.

"Elizabeth,"
he called, "come here please."

Elizabeth had
shown complete obedience since their first day in the dining room
and immediately turned and walked back to him, then stood looking
up at him expectantly.

"How would you
like me to have Constance brought up here?"

Elizabeth's
eyes widened, and she smiled the biggest smile he had seen since
his arrival. She nodded her head enthusiastically, and to his joy
and surprise began clapping her hands.

"Excellent. We
shall return to the house and make immediate arrangements," he said
firmly. "Come along."

Constance. I'm going to have Constance. Oh what great
joy
.

Lord Michael
wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn
she was walking with greater energy and almost had a bounce in her
step. Still a far cry from the old Elizabeth, who would be running
to the house to squeal the news to her father and brother, but it
was yet another very welcome step forward in her progress.

They entered
the study and found George and James deep in conversation.

"I do
apologize for interrupting your conference," Lord Michael
apologized, as he and Elizabeth entered the room. "But I have a
request of some urgency."

George saw the
broad smile on Elizabeth's face. Clearly there had been further
progress in his daughter's recovery.

"Whatever the
request might be, clearly it has made my daughter very happy so
consider it done," he replied happily, walking forward to take her
hands and peck her on the cheek.

James,
standing at the side of the desk, moved forward to join them. He
couldn't imagine what had cheered her up so much.

"I would ask
that arrangements be made to bring Constance up here," Lord Michael
said.

Again,
Elizabeth clapped her hands.

"What a
splendid notion," her father beamed. "Splendid. Let's see, how do
we manage that?" he pondered.

"Father,"
James interjected. "We've just been discussing how we might attend
to the business matters at home. Why don't you and I take the
carriage back, then you can stay and take care of things and I'll
ride Constance back here."

"Yes, my boy.
That might be just the ticket."

"Take my
carriage if you wish," Lord Michael offered, knowing it was newer
and more comfortable than that owned by George Barrett.

The three men
were so busy making their plans they didn't notice the expression
on Elizabeth's face had changed dramatically. A deep frown had
crossed her brow, and she was darting her eyes from one man to the
next, attempting to get their attention.

"No!" she
suddenly, shockingly, disbelievingly blurted out, interrupting her
father as she stamped her foot on the floor as hard as she possibly
could.

There was
deafening silence for several seconds. James and George weren't
sure how to react and turned to Lord Michael for guidance.

"Elizabeth,
what was that?" Lord Michael asked, attempting to contain his
excitement, keeping his voice as calm as he was able with just a
hint of a reprimand. The girl had not uttered a sound for several
weeks and the last thing he wanted to do was stop the much awaited
speech. But he also needed to convey his authority and displeasure
at such an outburst.

"No!" she
shouted, though not quite as loudly, but did stamp her foot once
again.

"No, you don't
want Constance to come up?" he pressed.

She looked at
him wild-eyed.

Oh this is so
frustrating. Isn't it obvious?

The candle lit
in James' head. She didn't want him riding her mare. He had
repeatedly hounded her for permission to ride the hot-blooded
horse. The mare was so spirited and full of vigour he was eager to
take her on a gallop. She had not only refused him, she had done so
in no uncertain terms. If he was guessing correctly then pushing
the matter might just be enough to start her barking at him.

"If we leave
right away, father," he said, staring at his sister, "I can gallop
Constance back here first thing in the morning."

Lifting his
gaze from her he shot a look at Lord Michael, hoping he would
understand the covert message.

Oh you beastly brother. You know I will not have you riding my
mare
.

"Excellent,"
Lord Michael replied, understanding the unspoken hint from James.
"Then it's all arranged."

Elizabeth
clenched her fists.

"No!" she
railed, and began stamping her foot repeatedly. They stood quietly
watching her, praying for more.

"I don't know
what's wrong with her," James sighed, staring at the ceiling. "I'm
really looking forward to mounting up. Such a spirited horse will
take some controlling I imagine."

Oh you are such a - a
...

"I said no!"
she bellowed. Then paused, staring at her brother. "You will do no
such thing!" she yelled. "Constance will be ridden up here by Roy,
the stable hand. He is gentle and kind!" she exclaimed, then added,
"and can ride the trousers off you any day!"

All three men
broke into huge smiles. Her father thought his heart would break
from joy. James wanted to hug her. Never had he been so delighted
to see his sister's temper. And Lord Michael wanted to spank her
silly, then ravage her for hours.

Impulsively
her father stepped forward and hugged her, secretly wiping the
tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Lord Michael
looked away, not because he was embarrassed, but because the same
emotion was surging forth in him. James walked to the desk and
pretended to busy himself with some papers, and once composed
returned to his sister, now out of her father's embrace.

"Very well,"
her father managed, "the stable boy will bring her up."

"Thank you,
father," she said, standing on her toes and kissing him on the
cheek.

"Time for your
lunch now, young lady," Lord Michael announced, attempting to keep
things as normal as possible. "And I want you to tell me your
thoughts about that stallion as we dine."

She looked up
at him, and he saw some of the sparkle that had once glittered so
brightly in her eye.

Over lunch, to
Lord Michael's great joy, she talked incessantly about where she
would ride Constance, for how long, the exploring they could do
together, as if something inside her was making up for her weeks of
silence. It was a very happy lunch, and with each passing minute
she seemed to be more like her old self.

That afternoon
as they were walking through yet another wing of the house she
appeared even brighter.

"I can't wait
to ride that stallion," she said, squeezing his arm. "What was his
name again? I don't recall."

"His name is
Zeus and I think it will be quite some time before I'll allow you
to get on his back," he informed her.

"But why?"

"Because,
Elizabeth, you are still weak. Much too weak too ride a powerful
horse such as him."

"Oh poof," she
answered, tossing her free hand in the air.

Lord Michael
had granted her almost complete latitude. He wasn't sure how much
longer he should do so, or if he did decide to chastise her to what
degree. It was a small infraction so he let it slide, but decided
it might be time to keep track of her 'small infractions'.

"Besides," she
continued, "I will be able to jump larger logs on him than I can on
Constance."

"Now, now,
Elizabeth. No more talk about riding him. We'll discuss it when
you're stronger."

"But he's
mine. If I want to ride him I should be able to."

Lord Michael
sighed. She really was being difficult. He simply couldn't allow
her to continue to speak to him in such a way, even though he was
delighted her impudence and defiant nature was showing itself.

"Elizabeth,
you will raise your skirt and accept a smack," he said sternly.

She lifted her
head up and stared at him.

"Oh Master,"
she said woefully. "Must I?"

"Yes you
must."

It does feel right. Oh my. It does. It feels wonderfully
right
.

She lifted the
back of her dress, and Lord Michael wrapped his arm about her waist
to balance her and hold her in place.

It was a small
slice of heaven to gaze upon her lovely bottom, even though it was
not yet as full and plump as it once had been, but he chose not to
drop her drawers. They were still in the house and there were
servants about. He had to be careful and quick, so indulged his
eyes for just a short moment then smacked her twice, just hard
enough to let her know he was still her Master and the man she
loved.

Releasing her,
he allowed her to drop her dress then put his hand on her shoulders
and made her face him.

"What do you
say, Elizabeth?" he asked, sternly.

"Thank you,
Master," she replied.

There was a
happy shine in her eyes. It had been the right decision.

"Perhaps you
had forgotten that I will discipline you whenever you need it,
wherever we might be. And if circumstances prevent your punishment
I will not forget. Be warned. I am keeping tally of your
indiscretions, and one of these days you will have to answer for
each and every one of them."

Little
butterflies were fluttering in her tummy, and all of a sudden
Elizabeth felt better - much better.

"Yes, Master,"
she said, loving him. "I understand."

"Good girl,"
he said gently, and Elizabeth felt a warm, familiar rush.

They continued
their walk, ending at her room. Lord Michael opened the door and
saw that Grace had turned down the bed in readiness for her late
afternoon nap. He kissed her on the forehead.

"You have a
nice rest," he said, "and I'll see you at dinner."

"Yes, Master,"
she whispered, and entered the room as Grace appeared from the
bathroom with a change of clothes for her respite.

Lord Michael
decided he might have a snooze as well.

And a little
more.

He had been
fighting an urgent cockstand after slapping Elizabeth's bottom. It
had been a short simple interlude, but it was enough to pump blood
through his temples and into his manhood.

He hastened to
his quarters, locking the door so as not to be disturbed and
quickly undressed. Lying on his bed he placed his fingers around
his shaft, feeling it swell in his hand. Closing his eyes he
imagined he was in the stable sitting on a bale of hay, his lovely
Elizabeth, her bottom bared, bent across his lap, her riding crop
lying nearby.

"I told you
clearly you naughty girl, you were not to ride Zeus!" he scolded,
as he slapped his hand on her chubby seat cheeks.

"I'm sorry,
Master," she cried.

"Yes you most
certainly will be. You won't be sitting on a saddle riding anyone
for several days," he promised, spanking her with gusto.

He stroked
himself rapidly, loving the disciplinary scene playing out in his
mind's eye. It would be just like the defiant Elizabeth to do such
a thing.

"Now the crop
for you," he declared, and pulling her to her feet made her
straddle the sides of a bale of hay, and bending her down, placed
her elbows on the top of it. The consequence of the position forced
her luscious backside high in the air.

Lord Michael
could feel his moment upon him. The fantasy was too rich not to
have it continue. He stopped his rubbing and opened his eyes,
focusing on the craftsmanship of the coffered canopy over his
head.

Turning his
thoughts from the perverted thoughts dancing through his mind, he
wondered how long it would take for Elizabeth to completely
recover. He needed to give considerable thought to their future.
Now that she owned such an impressive property it might be easiest
if he moved his life from London. He could lease his Manor...

His throbbing
member demanded his return. Closing his eyes he returned his
fingers to their work. He was back in the stable, Elizabeth over
the bale of hay. The crop was in his hand.

"Six strokes
of the crop, Elizabeth. You are a naughty, disobedient girl. It's
the least you deserve. Don't you ever disobey me in such a way
again. If you do it will be double the punishment and you will be
housebound for a month. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Master,"
she sobbed. "I promise I won't ride him ever again without your
consent."

He raised the
crop in the air and flicked it down on her bright pink bottom,
instantly raising a bright red stripe.

"Oh Master, it
hurts dreadfully," she howled.

"As it's
intended. I should make you ride him again with your bottom burning
from these strokes," he declared. "And perhaps I shall."

"Oh no,
Master, please. I wouldn't be able to stay on."

Numbers two
and three landed quickly just below the first, eliciting a wail and
a lascivious wiggling.