She opened the trunk and took out a few dresses, hair combs, and ribbons. “Is this too much?” she asked.
He left one of the dresses for her to wear and picked up the rest of the bundle, handing it to Penrod. “Take these and the harp. Wait outside the door.”
Penrod obeyed and Daisy stood looking at him uncertainly. She held the dress up to her torso. “Do you have to—would you mind turning around while I change?”
He lifted his eyebrows. She’d have to get used to showing herself to him sooner or later, but he didn’t have to push the point now. Folding his arms, he turned his back and began to remove his own armor. He heard a rustling, then a gust of cold air hit his back. Whirling, he saw her head disappearing as she climbed out the window.
He cursed and dashed to the window just as his lady screamed.
Daisy had lost her grip and clung to the windowsill by just the fingertips of one hand, her legs kicking wildly below her. Before he could grab her wrist, her fingers slid and she dropped. She screamed again and caught the water spout, which she clung to with both arms, her legs thrashing.
He snatched her up by the armpits and hauled her inside, his heart thundering. She’d nearly died there. The idea that she risked her life to escape him disturbed him. She had courageously defended the castle, but she seemed particularly afraid of marriage.
She shook in his arms, her breath coming in gasps.
He sat down on a chair and held her on his lap. “That was foolish,” he said mildly, stroking her back to quiet her.
“Yes,” she agreed in a shaky voice.
* * *
Sir Barrett’s arms enveloped her, his enormous body dwarfing hers. It felt odd and not altogether unpleasant to be held as if she were a small child. She did not look at Sir Barrett but she could feel his breath against her neck.
“I ought to punish you,” he murmured.
She stiffened as her imagination took flight. That’s right. Despite his courtly manners, he had laid claim to her. Unless she escaped, he would become her husband and master. How would the huge knight choose to punish his wife? What things would he punish for? Would he thrash her? A mixture of fear and something else slithered in her belly. Her entire body grew prickly and warm despite the open window.
She needed to make him understand she could not be a wife. She could not offer her body up night after night for that horrific act. She looked at the door, but remembered his squire stood just outside. Sir Barrett had dropped his armor and sword by her door, but a dagger hung from his belt, just within her reach. Could she use it on him? She doubted it. She shivered and he lifted her to her feet.
“Get dressed now, lady. We must to get on the road or we’ll not make it to Rothburg by nightfall.”
He moved to close the shutters to the window, which still stood open.
Desperation took hold. Without a plan, she lunged forward and snatched the dagger from his belt.
He whirled, his hand flashing out and snatching the dagger. He grasped her arm and slapped the flat of the blade to her backside. “Now you most certainly earned a punishment,” he said, not sounding the least bit angry or even disappointed that she had just attempted to threaten his life. In fact, he seemed almost amused.
Dropping the dagger into his scabbard, he picked her up by the waist andcarried her back to the chair. She caught a look of merriment in his eyes just before he tugged her across his thighs and lifted her tunic up her back. His huge paw clapped down on her upturned backside and she jerked, closing her mouth to the squeal that rose to her throat. He applied his hand four more times, then created a new panic in her by yanking down her leggings to expose her bare bottom. She struggled against his hold, but he held her fast with an arm around her waist.
He picked up spanking again, slapping one cheek then the other in rapid succession. “We’re going to have a hard time together if you insist on trying to kill one or both of us,” he remarked, sounding quite calm considering how hard his hand connected with her stinging cheeks.
“I wasn’t going to kill you,” she said, as sulky as a child. Her initial gratitude at being punished with nothing more than his hand faded as her buttocks grew sore under his continued assault.
“No? What were you going to do, my lady?”
“I know not! I just—”
He chuckled, his hand still slapping a steady rhythm. “I enjoy your pluck, little one. But you’ve proven yourself dangerous. I will have to bind your hands until I’m sure you won’t kill me or run off.”
She wiggled and bounced, trying to dodge his hefty palm.
When she kicked her legs, he said, “You earned this spanking, little one. Lie still and take it or I’ll use my belt instead.”
She froze, crossing her ankles together and squeezing them to keep from moving. The strange, squirming sensation in her belly returned. “Please,” she cried. “Please, just let me go.”
“Go where, sweet lady? I will gladly free you if you can prove to me you have a place to go where you will be safe and well cared for. Do you have such a place?”
She moaned. Of course she had no such refuge. And her poor bottom burned as if on fire now. More than that, she wanted out of the humiliating position. She imagined the picture she made with her leggings around her thighs and her bare bottom angled up for his view. And could he see… the other?
