I’d thought that perhaps he would allow me to rest my eyes and sore bottom, however, when the sturdy leather sole of my slipper connected with my pantalets I realized that he was not finished with me yet. The spank was followed by a flurry of equally hard swats. I bit down on my lip, hard, to keep from calling out. As one followed the next, however, I began to sniffle. These were not the slow, carefully counted spanks I’d endured before, but rather apainful, punishing barrage of strokes that had tears rolling down my cheeks long before they’d ceased. I was crying, just as he’d promised, yet, he did not stop there. Antony cracked my slipper against my covered behind again and again until my cries turned to sobs and sobs turned to incoherent begging. By the time he stopped, I felt like I’d sat in the fire and had my pantalets burned to nothing but ash. Surely, if I removed the garment I would see scorch marks on my very skin.
“I have given you your orders,” Antony said, still quiet and quite in control. “If you persist in your disobedience, at least you now know what you can expect.” When he lowered my skirts and I felt them caress my aching bottom, I winced. “Oh, and Cecily? Next time you’ll take your spanking on the bare. Pray remember that before you choose to defy me again.”
I turned around with slow, careful steps, and glared at him through a haze of tears. “When my lord husband comes for me—and I assure you that he will—you will pay for every swat. Let us hope it is not with your life.”
Antony surprised me yet again by responding to my words with a slight bow. “If that is your wish, then I hope for your sake it is granted.”
“Y-you do?” I stammered.
“I think it’s best you go to bed. You need to rest before we continue. Might I suggest you lie on your stomach?”
Tossing my black hair saucily, I didn’t trouble to reply as I marched to the bed. I would have lain on my back, just to spite him, if the prospect hadn’t been so horrid to contemplate. Antony, to his credit, did not gloat.
The smell of cooked meat stirred me in my sleep. When my stomach rumbled loudly, I had no choice but to wake from my slumber, however reluctantly. I sat up in bed, wincing as my arse hit the bed. Despite Antony’s warning, I’d rolled onto my back during the night and now my bottom throbbed as a reminder of the thrashing I’d received. I stretched my arms over my head and turned toward the smell. When I caught sight of Antony walking toward me bearing a large platter, I turned my head away, deciding that perhaps I wasn’t that hungry after all.
However, my nose couldn’t help but keep sniffing the air, which was all it took for my empty stomach to overtake my stubborn will. When I turned toward the smell I saw that he stood by my side, patiently waiting for me to accept what I suspected was his peace offering. Without a word, he slid a plate in front of me. I mumbled my thanks before I attacked the meat ravenously, eating as though I’d been starved for days. My mother would have been horrified. My husband, in fact, would have disowned me from the shame. Antony, however, watched without comment.
As soon as I’d eaten the last morsel, he offered me a bowl of fruit. “Spiced berries,” was the only explanation he offered.
It was on the tip of my tongue to thank him, but I remembered just in time that I was still angry with him and reluctant to talk to him at all. I tookthe bowl he offered and began to eat, realizing at once that they had been spiced to give flavor because they were a few days old. I ate them just the same, and finally, at long last, my hunger was sated. Only when I finished did I realize that I’d never seen Antony eat a bite.It’s no more than he deserves,I thought meanly.Let his stomach pain him the way my bottom does me and see how he likes it!
“Did you sleep well?”
I deliberately turned away from him once more, appreciating the opportunity to snub him. I was feeling very smug and well-pleased with myself—that was, until my stomach lurched and I found myself bent over and heaving my just-eaten breakfast onto the floor. When I was finally able to stop, tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was much too tired for petty games.
“Perhaps you ate too quickly,” he suggested, walking toward me and gently pushing me until I was lying back on the bed. “Rest a little longer.”
“But—”
“It’s alright,” he cut off my feeble protest. “We can leave later. It’s best that you have your strength back before we set out again.”
“It won’t make a difference,” I told him, cross that he remained unfailingly kind no matter what I said or did. “It’s that horrid food! The Duke of Württemberg never would have given me such poor fare.” I glared at him, daring him to contradict me.
I should have known that he would not. It was not his way. “Of course not, my lady. Please forgive me. Now, perhaps after you’ve had a bit of rest when you’ve improved we can find something that suits you better.”
I’d thought it impossible to sleep, but I found that I was tired from the exertion of being sick and found myself drifting off in no time.
* * *
Württemberg Manor
“Excuse me.” I stepped in the path of a servant carrying a basket of clothing. “Do you know where the duke is?”
“No, m’lady,” she mumbled, speaking too quickly, avoiding my eyes and too eager to move past me.
It was in bad taste for a woman to have to ask servants where her husband was. I knew that, and yet I could do little else. I felt like I’d not seen Wallace in days, which I began to find troublesome. I’d seen him in the halls, of course, and at mealtimes, but he no longer made an effort to seek me out. To tell the truth, it wasn’t as though I missed his company, but I felt it my duty as his wife to make an effort to seek him out.
Yet, I could find him nowhere. I’d been to his rooms, to his war room, the library, and the great hall. I had it on good authority that he was not out hunting, yet no one seemed toknow where he was. Or, at the very least, that was what they told me when I asked.
I knew that I was beginning to look the fool and I was about to turn around and return to my rooms when I heard a high-pitched giggle. It was followed quickly by a playful admonishment from a husky male voice. Something about that voice made me still in my tracks and draw my breath in sharply.
It’s not him, I told myself, aware even as I thought it that I was lying, just as I knew that I should turn around and pretend that I’d never found my husband. I should remain blind and deaf, lest I allow whoever he was with to break my heart.
But even as I thought it, I still found myself moving closer, pushing open the door that had been left ajar. At first, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was seeing. A woman in a dubious state of undress was perched atop the desk in the middle of the room, her head thrown back as she moaned. Yet, she appeared to be alone.
I’d never witnessed such a thing before, and the shock of seeing her clothing askance and the woman herself clearly nearing a state of rapture was enough to make my entire body freeze. How I wished I’d never come in. How I longed to turn and flee, and yet, my slippers seemed fastened to the stone floor.
“Ooh,” she moaned, thrusting her naked chest forward like a common whore. The mere sight of how she behaved was enough to sicken me. “Oh, it feels… so lovely…”
