Sir Thomas’s Bride_Masterful Husbands_Book One, page 10
Rose returned shortly with a covered china dish in which sat the paler parsnip root replica with its bulb and flange cut as the ginger had been. There were also two plates that held delicious looking slices of dark and gooey chocolate cake. Rose passed a cake fork and plate to Margaret and the two young women curled up companionably in front of the fire to eat it.
Margaret had thought over the past animosity with Rose and remembered the nasty things she had said to her, especially on her wedding day. She had to say something because of the guilt she was now feeling.
"Rose, I am sorry I implied that the child, Nancy, the one you rescued in London, was your husband's by-blow. I-I made that up simply to hurt you, it was... most unkind of me." Margaret hung her head unable to meet Roses' eye, she felt too ashamed. Margaret had lied to Rose, telling her that the street child Rose had rescued from the gutter and taken into her household to care for, planning eventually to train as a ladies' maid, was in fact Benedict's illegitimate daughter.
She looked up when she felt a warm hand on her forearm.
"I forgive you, Margaret," Rose said softly, "we must put the past behind us now. After this night, well we simply have to become friends, surely you agree?"
Margaret nodded, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She most certainly did agree and how wonderful it felt to have a friend of her own at long last. Rose slipped her arms around her and the two young women embraced.
* * *
Thomas had finished his supper and excused himself, leaving Benedict readying a frame for another game of billiards on his return. Thomas wanted to check on Margaret because he didn't trust her to leave the ginger in place once it began to irritate her inside.
When he arrived at their chamber, he noticed the door was slightly ajar and creeping close to the gap he could hear female voices within. Intrigued, he eavesdropped.
"Thank you, Rose dear, that was the most delicious chocolate cake I think I have ever tasted."
"I know, cook is simply amazing; she makes these tiny thin lemon biscuits. They are my absolute favourites! I promise to bring some over to you at Longetlestone when I come to call."
"That is so kind and I do hope you will come and call; I should like that. Thomas will be pleased too, for he has fretted because his best friend's wife and his own wife were not on good terms."
"After tonight's event, could you doubt that I would come? Talking of tonight, I think it is time to endure our next embarrassing deed, are you ready for this?"
"Mmm, I suppose I must be, which of us shall go first?"
"We-ll since I instigated this, I shall." Rose turned and bravely laid herself over the end of the bed, Margaret helped her to tug up her nightgown and reveal her bottom once again. Probably because they were so extremely embarrassed about the situation, both girls fell into a fit of the giggles. Margaret attempted to push the parsnip root into Roses bottom as gently as she could, it held firm but then suddenly popped back out. It took a number of giggled attempts before the vegetable slid into place, seating itself satisfactorily.
Then it was her own turn to be humiliated and the giggling became slightly hysterical because the parsnip root simply wouldn't go inside her at all, the thing popped out time and time again. Margaret suddenly remembered the salve that Thomas had used upon her shoulder earlier in the evening and pointed out the jar to Rose. She took a dollop of the goo in her hand, hesitated a moment with embarrassment, then taking a deep breath she spread the salve over Margaret's bottom cleft. After a brief struggle, Rose managed to slide the root home and both women rolled about on the bed convulsed with near hysterical laughter. After they had calmed down, they both went to wash their hands in the china ewer, using warm water from the pitcher jug, both of which stood ready for their use upon the stand set behind the Chinese privacy screen, in the corner of the room.
Thomas, still listening at the doorway smiled indulgently; what a wonderful musical sound the tinkling giggles of the two happy girls made. His Margaret had made a good friend of his best friend's wife. He was quite simply delighted at this unexpected turn of events and he hurried back to tell Mortimer the good news.
When Thomas returned later in the evening, he was intentionally noisy so that Margaret was warned of his approach. He was impressed by her acting ability when he entered the room and she flew to him begging him to remove the ginger root. Thomas motioned her toward the bed and pulled out the parsnip root. Before he could study the pale imposter, Margaret spun about and snatched the root from his hand, hurling it into the fire.
"Horrible hateful thing!" she cried convincingly.
Thomas was not about to let Margaret off the hook completely. Oh no! For even though he would hold his tongue over the root swapping deception, due to the friendship that she had formed with Rose, her defiance over the whole gingering punishment and her outrageous brawling in the dirt today had decided him—she deserved a few strokes of his old faithful—the cane.
"Back over the bed please, nightgown raised ready for punishment, I am fetching the cane. Place your hands in front of you on the counterpane where I can see them." Margaret stared dumbfounded at her husband, surely he couldn't be serious about using the cane!
"After all that I have suffered tonight, you are actually intending to punish me severely!" she asked him in disbelief.
Thomas had to chuckle at her very audacity—all that she had suffered! Was she referring to eating chocolate cake before the fire perhaps? Or rolling about on the bed giggling with Rose Mortimer? Why, the little minx! Yes, there was no doubt in his mind that she needed this lesson.
"You heard me, Bee, for each second you dally I will add strokes, one... two..."
Margaret pulled up her gown and flung herself hastily over the end of the bed, bottom bared ready for punishment.
"That is much better. I had intended three strokes only but with the count of two added that will be five. I am going to disrobe while you lie there and think about your behaviour today. The dressing room door will remain open so that I can see you, do not move from your position."
Margaret whimpered. Thomas went to his dressing room and removed all his clothes. He rummaged in the portmanteau where he had carefully placed the wrapped cane that he had brought with him. Drawing it out of the bag, he un-wrapped it and gave it a swish. It was the most pliable of his collection and packed a nasty sting but tended not to bruise the recipient. Then he glanced into the chamber and looked at his wife spread so obediently across the bed end. He would bind her hands he decided, just in case she reached back. He did not wish to harm her. He fetched the velvet wrist restraints from inside the same bag.
He entered the room and tapped the cane on the bed post, tic, tic, tic, Margaret visibly trembled. He went to her and tied her wrists together with the black velvet ties. Margaret made no complaint, although her pleading eyes were huge in her pale face. He trailed a finger over the crown of her arse. She shivered.
"When I demand something of you, Margaret, I expect that you, as my wife, will obey me. It was part of your oath to me in your marriage vows and I insist upon your total obedience. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, sir."
"So even if I am not there to witness your obedience, I need to trust that you will indeed obey me, whether or not I am with you. Do you understand that too?"
Margaret appeared to hesitate but then she answered with a shaky, "Yes, sir." Thomas grinned. The little madam, well she was about to rue the day. He raised the cane and swished it through the air a few times just to tease his wife, who moaned at each whining swish of the cane as it stirred the air.
Thomas landed the first stroke in perfect execution across the crown of her buttocks, leaving a thin pink wheal behind on her fleshy orbs.
Margaret shrieked and humped her hips upon the bed. "Count please," Thomas ordered her calmly.
"One!" she cried.
He brought the cane down slightly below the first stripe and again Margaret howled but obediently shouted, "Two!"
The cane sliced through the air and landed its bite onto her padded flesh. "Three!" was the uttered shriek."
This time he scalded the tops of her thighs and the yip, followed by "Four" was given with a gulping sob and squirm of her hips.
"Be still!" Thomas barked, for he did not wish to hurt her other than on her bottom with her spanking.
He waited until Margaret had herself under control again. "Last stroke, my dear... are you ready?"
"I s'ppose," came a muffled, sulky response, a hard slap from her husband's hand soon elicited the correct answer. "Yes, sir!" she sung out clearly.
"That's better!"
The cane sliced through the air and struck with the hardest crack of all. Margaret jumped with the impact and squealed, then sobbed for all she was worth. Thomas let her cry, for he knew she would not yet want any comfort from him, she would be feeling much too tender and angry with him. He went into the dressing room and returned the cane to its travelling place, before going back to release Margaret's wrists and wipe her tear drenched face with a warm flannel. She allowed him to comfort her and as he did so, his semi hardened cock jumped to full salute, demanding his full attention.
Thomas led Margaret over to the warmth of the fire and bid her kneel. She understood at once that atonement was due and without a murmur took him into her mouth and suckled him.
Thomas gazed down into her pretty face, flushed and damp. Her pale blue eyes were glassy with tears and as he watched, one droplet trickled down her cheek. He gently wiped away the tear with his thumb and caressed her damp rounded cheek. "Good girl," he praised her as she pleasured him and she stopped her suckling and smiled tremulously up at him. She was so very sweet after a spanking had removed her sting. He needed to sting her arse to remove her sting, well, well, how very droll. Thomas felt amused and affectionate toward his wife, now returned to his precious bumble bee, his Bee.
He pulled her to her feet and hugged her to him, his tumescent pego pressed between their heated fleshes. He reached down and lifted the hem of her nightgown over her head and then he pulled her down onto the hearth rug and held her in the circle of his arms.
His fingers caressed her aching nipples and she reached for his throbbing manhood. He kissed her, starting with her mouth and moving slowly downwards. Sonorously, he uttered words of sweet endearment as he finally loomed over her, his hands firmly grasping her wrists, holding them either side of her head.
His blue eyes, meeting hers, glinted with masculine desire even as his manhood found her centre and took her breath, as he claimed her as his woman. The tears that flowed from her eyes now were caused by the swelling of her deepest emotions.
Why did her husband punishing her and then possessing her afterward, fill her with this overwhelming rush of passion and devotion? She could no more control her feelings, than the moon could stop circling the sun. As he entered her, filling her fully, she cried forth, her voice husky and full of need. The words he had waited so long to hear fell from her lips,
"Oh, Thomas, Thomas, I love you..."
Chapter 19
The following morning, they ate a fortifying breakfast. Standing through necessity in their chambers, the ladies ate honeyed toast and drank china tea. The gentlemen meanwhile sat in the dining room, discussing cricket while heartily consuming huge plates of devilled kidneys, black pudding and eggs, washed down by strong black coffee.
Finally, in mid-morning, Thomas and Margaret boarded their carriage. After fond and warm farewells, they settled in together for the journey onward to Longetlestone, situated just outside the village of Henfield.
"Well, I would say that all's well that ends well! I knew it was inevitable that you and Rose would one day become friends," Thomas told Margaret somewhat smugly.
"Really and how could you possibly have known that, dearest?" Margaret asked him a trifle tartly. She shuffled about upon the carriage seat as she attempted unsuccessfully to accommodate her sore posterior.
"Well, let's just say that I know my parsnips," Thomas replied sagely.
Margaret's head whipped up and she looked back at him with suspiciously narrowed eyes but Thomas only cocked his head to one side and gave her a roguish grin. He tapped the side of his nose and still she was none the wiser.
Finally arriving at Longetlestone, Thomas admired the soft mellow, butter coloured stone of the building. This was a pretty house, with stone mullioned windows and a portcullis entrance way, served by three shallow steps that led to the heavy oak, studded front door.
The door stood open and in the entry way stood the toad like figure of Lady Amelia Beauchamp, Margaret's overbearing mother.
"Oh dear," Margaret sighed. She had hoped to walk into her family home as its mistress now that she was wedded.
"Fear not, my Bee, I shall not allow your mother to impose upon us," Thomas tried to reassure his wife.
After they had disembarked, the lady came and air kissed her daughter, looking her up and down with her pale and piggy blue eyes. She shook her head, her jowls all a-quiver.
"Dear me, Margaret, whatever have you been eating, my dear? You will become quite as plump as your dearest mama, if this gluttony carries on!"
Thomas stepped forward and made a leg, as polite etiquette demanded of him. "Yes, Margaret looks extremely well, does she not? Eating properly has filled her thin figure out most delightfully!" Not waiting for a reply, he led his wife forward into her former childhood home. Margaret clapped her hands and spun around, oh how she loved this house and now she had returned to it as its mistress! She beamed at Thomas and was about to suggest a guided tour when her mother interjected.
"Tea and refreshment await you in the morning room. I thought it would be nice to sit in there as the room is still full of sunlight, rather than the withdrawing room which is a trifle gloomy when the fire is unlit. Come, come, we have much to discuss, Margaret dear! You can see to the unloading of the luggage, Wiggingstone!" The odious woman slipped her arm through Margaret's and led her away down the hall.
"Wiggington," Thomas corrected through gritted teeth, as he followed behind them determinedly.
If Lady Amelia was surprised to find Thomas seating himself next to his wife upon the settee, she made no sign of it and carried on her monologue regardless. Margaret got up from her seat beside him and began to pour the tea. There was a shriek of outrage from her mother.
"What do you think you are doing, gal? You are not a servant, Margaret, sit down at once!" She fanned herself dramatically with her plump gloved hand.
"Margaret and I like our breakfast and our afternoon tea to ourselves; we do not require a servant's aid. Margaret likes to be 'mother' and serve our tea herself, do you not, Bee dear?"
"I do, Thomas, yes. Do you still take sugar in your tea, mother?"
Lady Amelia looked from husband to wife and seethed. "I am disappointed to see that the nincompoop Wiggington has turned you common, Margaret! I can see that I have my work cut out for me to restore your previous manners! And what is this, Bee?"
Thomas smiled at his mother-in-law before saying calmly, "Bee, is my pet name for my wife and if by manners you are referring to Margaret's previous and odiously, selfish behaviour, then I can assure you most emphatically that she will not be returning to them. Margaret knows full well how I deal with discourtesy and contempt, so have a care, dear Mamma Beauchamp." He then stood and kissed Margaret on her forehead, before moving over to the bell pull to summon the Butler, Johnson. When the man arrived, he bowed respectfully to his new master. Thomas ushered him out into the hallway.
"I wish to speak with you, Johnson. Is there an office nearby that we can step into for a moment of privacy?"
"Yes, sir, there is the estates office down the hall to the left, sir. It is unused because the estate manager Mr. Larken chooses to conduct business from his home on the estate. Follow me, sir." Johnson led Thomas down the hall turned left and opened a door into a dark and gloomy office with mostly empty shelves and a large round estate table with a chair set beside it.
"Johnson, you have been with the Lady Amelia for a long while now, haven't you?" "Yes, sir, some twelve years now, sir."
"I want you to decide whether you wish to remain serving the Lady Amelia situated within the Dowager House or remain here in my service but before you answer me, consider this, Johnson. I require total allegiance to me if you remain in this household. I will accept nothing less than your complete loyalty to myself and to my wife."
"It will be my pleasure to serve both you and Lady Wiggington, sir. You may rely totally upon my discretion and loyalty."
Thomas smiled at the butler. "Thank you, Johnson. Do you have any suggestion for which staff should move to the Dowager house and serve Lady Beauchamp?"
"I do, sir and you may leave that entirely up to me, sir. When will the Lady be taking up residence, sir?"
Thomas lowered his eyebrows into a frown. "She was supposed to be in situ already but since she has declined my order to remove herself from the house, I think she should be removed to her new home first thing in the morning."
"Very good, sir, I shall see to the arrangements. Will that be all for now, sir?"
"No actually, Johnson, could you please give me a conducted and thorough tour of my new home?"
"It would be my absolute pleasure to do so, sir. Please to follow me!"
Margaret had a headache; she had forgotten how overpowering and overwhelming her mother could be. In the past, she had quickly given in to every demand her mother had made of her because to do otherwise resulted in such unpleasant consequences that it was simply easier for her to give in and acquiesce.
It was as if the scales had fallen from her eyes, particularly when her mother had called Thomas a nincompoop. Margaret shuddered, she had done so too, for the entire year of her engagement to him but not once had Thomas behaved in any other manner than a complete gentleman. She realised that she had deserved a jolly good spanking from him long before they had even wed but Thomas had tolerated her rudeness with such dignified grace. She felt ashamed of herself and of her mother. She wanted nothing more than to find her husband and apologise to him. She stood up ready to leave the room.
