“Forgive me!” she cried.
He stopped spanking and lifted her to stand between his knees. “I do forgive you, little one. I know you’re just frightened about what your future will hold,” he said. “But I still cannot allow bad behavior to go unpunished.”
She could not bring herself to look at him, her eyes dancing around the floor. Her face burned nearly as much as her bottom. She bit her cheek to keep her lips from trembling. It would be foolish to cry from a simple hand spanking. Still, she did not know how to act after the humiliating punishment.
Fortunately he did not demand she answer to him eye-to-eye. Instead, he bent down and pulled her leggings to her ankles, then wrestled them off overher boots.
She tugged down her chemise, which had been tucked inside her leggings, trying to cover her intimate parts.
He stood and pulled her tunic off over her head, leaving her in just the chemise. “Bring me your dress,” he said. He sounded perfectly businesslike, as if stripping and dressing women was an ordinary activity for him.
Her face still burning with embarrassment, she darted to the trunk and picked up her gown. She didn’t bring it to him, though. Instead, she pulled it over her head as quickly as possible, anxious to cover her body. She sensed him behind her and whirled.
He picked up her wrists, one of her ribbons dangling in his hands. “Hold them together for me,” he said.
She considered resisting, but realized she wouldn’t succeed, and her bottom already smarted enough from the spanking. She didn’t want another one. She took deep breaths, trying not to panic as she held her hands out.
He wound the ribbon around and around.
She stood on trembling legs, her emotions brewing just beneath the surface. She hardly knew what to think or how to act after that spanking. She certainly wished it had never happened. Part of her wanted to curl up and cry, the way she had as a child, but that was foolish—it hadn’t hurt that much. Still, she felt quite chastised—ashamed of her foolish and desperate actions. She also experienced a curious fluttering sensation in her stomach. Not fear so much as… something else.
Her bottom clenched just looking down at the knight’s large hands. She stole a glance at his face. He had a rugged appearance with a large head and strong, square jaw. Smile lines around his eyes and mouth softened the look. He wore a bear claw on a cord around his neck and his barrel chest rippled with solid muscle under his tunic. Her skin prickled at being so close to him. Or was that his heat burning right through her dress to warm her skin?
He wrapped the entire length of ribbon before tying a knot.
At first she thought it might be easy to escape a simple ribbon, but he’d fastened her wrists so securely she could not twist or wiggle them at all. Grinning at her, he bent forward at the waist and caught her hips with his shoulder, heaving her up like a sack of potatoes.
“My lord,” she exclaimed. “Please… this is entirely undignified.”
“Sorry, lady,” he said, striding toward the door. “You gave up your right to be dignified when you tried to climb out that window.” He opened the door and stepped out in the corridor. “And you gave up your right to the free use of your hands when you reached for my dagger. For now, you must resign yourself to being at my mercy. And if I were you, I would remember there are consequences to your actions.”
His squire fell in behind them, looking amused, but Sir Barrett growled, “Not a word, Penrod.”
“Of course not, sir,” the young man said, his expression turning blank as he hurried to keep pace.
Chapter Two
For a man who had not come looking for a woman or wife, Barrett’s sense of victory at claiming Daisy soared as he carried her out. He loved everything about her, from her misguided courage to the way she’d turned docile when he chastised her. And oh, that spanking…
His mind had been seared by the sight of her bare buttocks bouncing under his hand and the humility with which she’d stood before him afterward, unable to meet his eye. She would be easy to correct, as a wife. Her defiance had been sparked by fear, not pride. Once he earned her trust, she’d be tame as a kitten. Not that he minded her misbehavior or additional opportunities to correct her.
The castle priest stood by the portcullis, performing brief marriage ceremonies for each couple departing. He dropped Daisy to her feet and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her and covering her bound wrists as they faced the priest, simply out of respect for the church.
The priest looked grim, as if he did not approve of the task given him, but knew no better option. He cleared his throat. “What is your name, sir?”
“Sir Barrett.”
“Sir Barrett, wilt thou have Lady Daisy to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
He rubbed Daisy’s arms to comfort her trembling. “I will,” he answered solemnly. He worried what would happen when Daisy refused her half of the vows, but the priest wisely skipped the lady’s part altogether.
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Bless our brother and sister, oh lord. We pray for your guidance that Sir Barrett may honor his vows until death parteth him from his wife.” With this pronouncement, the priest fixed him with a beady stare.
He quirked a smile. “My vow is true.”
The priest placed a hand on Daisy’s head, his brows knit with concern. “May God watch over you and protect you as you begin your new life.”
“Thank you, Father David,” she said, her voice sounding choked.
