Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
She gave him an arch look as she drew alongside the dock. “I’m no weakling, August, and this little boat seemed in perfectly good repair. It’s lovely, really, just like everything here.”
He held out a hand to help her from the boat. His grip seemed unnecessarily tight.
“Are you angry?” she asked, although she knew he was. “Am I late for luncheon?”
“Quite late. We’ll dine and settle this afterward.”
“Settle what?” The look he gave her made her equal parts anxious and excited. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. You can’t just disappear, worry everyone, and receive no consequence. The water is ice cold at this time of year. If you’d fallen in…”
“I can swim, you know. I’ve swum in my parents’ lake a thousand times.”
His gaze darkened. “Do you think this an appropriate time to argue with me?”
Elizabeth walked a few steps behind him, partly because he was walking so quickly, and partly because she was scared. Her husband was very angry. What would happen after luncheon? Was he going to lecture her? Ban her from the lake?
Or would he spank her?
Considering his proclivities, the third option seemed the most likely.
She was forced to sit and fidget through luncheon, only able to pick at the delicious offerings. Every so often, she looked up to meet his gaze, perceiving there a distinct disciplinary intent. Well, she’d known the sort of man she was marrying. But she hadn’t thought his predilection for spanking would affect her quite so soon.
When their uncomfortable luncheon was over, she stood and brushed her hands together in a businesslike manner. “Well, I suppose I must go tidy up the Cornflower Parlor before Rosalind arrives for her visit this afternoon. The wallpaper in there is hand-painted, isn’t it? So pretty. I planned to reorganize the shelves to make room for my books and embroidery—”
“You may certainly do that,” August said, “after we’ve had our talk.”
“But…Rosalind…”
“Is coming for tea, which is several hours from now.” He intercepted her as she made for the door and steered her toward his study.
“What if she arrives early?”
“The talk I have in mind will not last very long.”
Perhaps if she was docile and apologetic, she would only receive a lecture. She faced him as he closed the study door, her head bowed and hands clasped before her.
“I am so sorry I took the boat out in such an impulsive manner, without letting anyone know my whereabouts. It was foolish now that I think about it. I’ll never do such a thing again.”
He gave her an arch look, his lips pursed.
“You’re an intuitive person, Elizabeth, intuitive enough to know you won’t get off so easily.” His piercing hazel eyes bored into hers. “You’re married now. You must remember that your actions affect others.”
“Of course, I know that. I just didn’t stop to think in my haste to take out the boat. It’s such a beautiful day…”
“Even on beautiful days, you must behave responsibly.”
He went around his desk, covered with the papers he’d been perusing when she’d decided not to disturb him, then unlocked a drawer in the cabinet behind it. He drew out a dark-colored, imposing wooden paddle, about ten inches in length and four inches wide. He sat in a nearby chair and beckoned her with a finger.
Elizabeth didn’t like the look of the intimidating implement. She parted her lips to protest, but his expression made her close them tight again.
Docile and apologetic. It was still her best strategy at this point.
“I’m sorry to have upset you, August, but I’m sure you wouldn’t wish to spank me merely for my innocent exuberance.” She took a step backward. “My desire to enjoy nature on a fresh midwinter day.”
“Elizabeth, come.”
“I’ve adored St. Pierre’s lake since I was a child.” Her voice rose in insistence. “I’ve wanted to take out that sweet little rowboat as long as I can remember—”
“Elizabeth.”
“Now that I know your wishes on the subject…that I am not to move freely about my new home without informing the servants…” That sounded impertinent. Docility had never been her particular strength.
“If I have to come get you, darling, it will go worse for you.”
She swallowed hard, realizing she was not to escape this disciplinary paddling. Well, she’d been spanked by him before and survived it. She sighed and crossed to his chair, and lowered herself over his waiting lap, wishing this was the other closeness between them, the closeness where he stroked and caressed her, and made her feel good.
From the looks of his stout, varnished paddle, this would not feel good.
He tugged up her skirt, bunching it at her waist, and after a slight pause, undid her pantalettes’ drawstring to expose her bottom.
“Must I be so naked?” she pleaded. “What if a servant comes?”
“They won’t. Not when they hear the noises coming from this room.”