by R. R. Vane
Tom walked away with a faint smile on his lips, still shaking his head. Perhaps the beautiful thief he’d left behind would never learn her lesson, although he’d done the best he could. He doubted she fully realized it, but he’d delivered the spanking out of kindness rather than revenge. The people in the crowd had already been clamouring for the guards, and he’d had to act fast, taking the matter into his own hands. He’d reasoned a swift punishment from him would appease the furious crowd. He knew only too well punishments for thievery were harsh. A flogging or the stocks was the least the beautiful thief could have expected from the guards. So she should count herself lucky he’d taken the matter into his own hands and only reddened her luscious behind.
As he was heading home, he mused over the spanking he’d delivered, feeling his rod go hard and biting into his lower lip. He’d resolved to deliver a stern lesson meant to satisfy the angry onlookers and make the thief’s bottom sizzle, but he’d not expected the thief to have such a scrumptious behind. Nor had he expected to feel such heat as he’d delivered the punishment in the crowded square. A punishment was a punishment – and there should have been no enjoyment about it – yet…
Tom frowned in puzzlement. It was probably because the thief was the most lust-worthy creature he’d ever set eyes upon. High perky breasts overstretching the fabric of her gown and a plump, well-rounded bottom. Auburn hair tinged with a bit of red and blue-green eyes which held a mixture of sultriness and innocence in them. He let out a wistful sigh. And he was not going to set eyes on her ever again.
As was his habit, Tom resumed work at the Forge as soon as his hurried repast was done. There was much ahead of him, and he did not have a moment to spare. He worked in silence for a while, but it seemed his other apprentices had been appraised by Micah, who’d been in the Square, of his encounter with the beautiful thief.
They were shy to ask questions at first, but then couldn’t contain their curiosity.
“Micah says you really taught that thieving woman a lesson,” Declan, the oldest of his apprentices, ventured with a wicked gleam in his green eyes.
Like all Irishmen, Declan loved laughter and teasing, and Tom had never begrudged his apprentice his sunny nature, but this time he found himself answering sharply.
“Better mind your work, lad,” he barked.
Declan heaved an impudent sigh, but he had sense enough to mind his master, so the work took place in near silence for the next few moments or so. Yet soon the lads started whispering among themselves, and Tom heaved a deep sigh as he set his hammer down.
“Fine. Ask away, whatever you want and we’ll have the end of the story. But after that we’ll be done and over with, and you’ll mind your work and be diligent about it. Understood?” he tossed out.
Micah, William and Declan all nodded with eager faces.
“Is it true you let her off without calling the guards, as Micah says?” William ventured.
Tom nodded with a grunt as he was studying his handiwork.
“Is it true she was as beautiful as an angel?” Declan cut in with a smirk in his voice.
Tom glared at him, yet he couldn’t fully hide the half smile which appeared on his lips as he recalled how the woman’s lush body had felt when it had been draped over his lap and he’d delivered the punishment.
“Nay,” he answered after a while. “She was not as beautiful as an angel.”
It was the truth. The woman was certainly beautiful, but there was nothing angelic about her. To him she’d looked more like Eve or even like Lilith, rather than like an angel from above. All flesh and blood and all woman. He realized he’d never been as tempted in his life by a woman as he’d been by the thief. That was probably why he’d let himself be fooled into giving her his money. He assumed he’d been foolish enough to let himself succumb to her charms. Yet, in truth, he’d not let her have the money because of her comeliness. There’d been deep sadness and despair about the woman he had perceived. Something heart breaking in her eyes, which had prompted him to want to aid her. But perhaps it had been all just an act. He shook his head with a shrug, deciding it was no use regretting what he’d done, and resolving to put the beautiful thief away from his mind.
“Now that we’ve all finished dreaming about beautiful women, perchance we can resume our work,” he told his apprentices with an arched eyebrow.
Still, the boys seemed to be burning with curiosity, and Micah soon began to regal them with a retelling of the harsh spanking their master had delivered in the Square.
“I wish I could have seen that,” Declan declared, apparently oblivious to Tom’s glare.
Micah preened, for once happy he’d been party to a thing his older friend hadn’t witnessed. Tom resigned himself to their talk, now returning his mind to his anvil. He studied the emerging lines of the sword he was fashioning, sighing within himself and knowing the knight who would bear it would not be worthy of its beauty. Tom would be loath to part from the sword, yet the knight had already paid coin for it – the very coin he’d given away. He looked at the sword, dismissing the thought of money, because, to him, money meant nothing at all compared to his craft.
It was only that evening that he came to think upon the money again, when Micah spoke to him during their meal.
“Master Tom, you’ll have to give me coin to buy the fare for our table for this week,” Micah said, as they were all finishing the gruel William had made for them this evening.
It had been William’s turn to cook and, while he was better than both Micah and Declan at it, all of them missed Mistress Webb’s cooking. Mistress Webb had cooked and kept house for them during these past three years, but for two months now they’d been left without her help, as she had gone to live in York with her married daughter.
“Coin,” Tom muttered, striving to recall if there was any money left in the house apart from the purse he’d had with him this morning.
“Aye, coin!” Micah nodded expectantly.
Tom scratched his head. Even though he was very capable at the Forge and probably one of the most able smiths in the city of London, he was always loath to concern himself with money. Yet, studying the boys’ still hungry and eager faces, he understood he was not doing a very good job of tending to his business.
“There are several people who still owe us coin for our work,” he said with a frown, fully knowing he should have kept a better tally of his customers and of his expenses.
He belatedly recalled there was, after all, some money left in one of his locked chests, so he rose, fetched it, and counted the coins out to Micah.
“Here,” he said. “That should take care of this week’s meals.”
Micah nodded, but not before giving him an incredulous look.
“Er Master Tom. What of the purse you had with you this morn?” he ventured timidly.
“Never you mind,” Tom muttered, waving his hand, but knowing the boys would be whispering among themselves as soon as he left the kitchen.
He went to bed with a deep sigh and a frown upon his face. Tomorrow he would have to sort out loose ends and collect what he was owed by those customers he’d been too lenient upon. He and his boys needed money not only for household expenses, but also for Forge supplies. Yet, instead of concentrating on this tedious task or of thinking upon his work, as was his habit, he found himself smiling faintly, and picturing the beautiful thief he’d spared from the guards. He pictured himself further reddening her luscious behind, and fully recalled the delicious heat of her scorched skin he’d felt under his palm.
Cursing under his breath, he began to pleasure himself, stroking his stiff cock with hard, hurried movements. He thought not only of the beautiful thief’s reddened, scrumptious bottom, but also of her lush lips and of how those full lips would feel around his cock when she took him in her mouth. He fiercely climaxed while picturing her swallowing his sticky seed. After he cleaned himself, he resolved to find a woman willing to bed him as soon as possible. His arrangement with Sarah Webb had
been satisfactory for both of them, but she’d been gone for two months. She was a widow, ten years older than him, and had been willing to share his bed while she took care of cooking and housekeeping. She was well liked in the parish and respected, so people had turned a blind eye to their arrangement, since Sarah Webb was already thought to be past her prime. He’d been sorry when she’d decided to join her married daughter in York, but other than a convenient arrangement for both of them, there’d been nothing he and Sarah had shared in truth. He had an inkling Sarah was well able to find a new husband for herself in York, should she ever choose to. Whereas he… well, everyone knew Master Tom Reed would not be able to ever find himself a wife.
Chapter 2
Beth stared around her, taking in the disorderly, dusty state of the kitchen she was in. While not downright grimy, it was in dire need of a good dusting and scrubbing, so she soon donned the apron which she saw hanging by the door and proceeded to the task at hand.
As she always did, she began to hum to herself as she worked, thinking upon the events which had brought her here. Master Tom Reed’s house. Tom Reed who was a blacksmith just as her father had been. Brushing a loose tendril of hair off her forehead, Beth began to reason that maybe her encounter with Tom Reed hadn’t been entirely random. Maybe the angel who guarded over her fate from above had made the encounter happen. It had set Master Tom Reed in her path when she’d needed his help. And, by the looks of it, Master Tom Reed was also in some need of her help.
It hadn’t been that hard to find out who the dark-eyed stranger in the Square was. She’d been careful not to ask too many questions, or to venture in that area where people might recognize her as the thief who’d been punished. London might be a big city, but gossip and rumours travelled fast. News of the spanking a certain master blacksmith had delivered had spread after all, and it had taken Beth less than two weeks to find out her punisher’s name.
As soon as she’d found out his name, she’d searched out his house, set on having a talk with Tom Reed and of assuring him she would find a way to pay him back the coin she’d spent on her mother’s burial and on alms for her family’s souls. She’d used the rest to pay what she owed for lodgings, which hadn’t left her with much. She intended to use the little that was left to make a new start elsewhere – a town which might prove kinder to her than London or Winchester had been. But before she left, she had wanted to make sure the master blacksmith knew she intended to repay her debt.
Beth had knocked on Master Reed’s door, yet she hadn’t found him at home. Instead, an apprentice called William had let her in, telling her she could wait for Master Reed if she wished. Apparently unconcerned he’d let in a stranger, William had left her alone in the house, going back to his own tasks. And now Beth had resolved there was already a way to repay at least a small part of Master Reed’s generosity. The kitchen, and, for that matter, the whole house was in sore need of tidying, and Beth had never been a woman to shirk from work. The state of the house had plainly told her that Master Reed had no one reliable to do the housekeeping for him, and a thought had firmly sprung in her mind. Their paths must have crossed for a reason. And it was plain there was a means to fully repay her debt sooner than she’d thought.
It was perhaps an hour later that she heard noises behind her as she was scrubbing the floors, and she rose from her task. She found Master Reed standing in the doorway with a look of sheer astonishment in his very dark eyes. Beth was more mistress of herself than last time, and she attempted to stare at him dispassionately, yet as soon as she let her gaze roam upon his form she recalled the way she’d lain defenceless across his lap while his big hand was punishing her bottom. She bit hard into her lip, trying to chase the image from her mind. Master Reed’s dark eyes were blazing when they looked upon her, and, for a moment, Beth found herself thinking he’d take her over his knee right then and there to deliver that harsher lesson he’d threatened.
“What are you doing here?” Master Reed barked, his dark eyes aglow with anger.
This time Beth was able to find her voice.
“I’ve come to repay my debt,” she said, trying to sound calm and composed.
There was a brief silence before he decided to speak and it seemed to Beth that Master Reed’s dark stare was no longer blazingly furious. Although his voice was fully angry when he spoke.
“Leave! Now!”
“I’ve come to repay my debt,” Beth repeated, struggling to make her voice not quiver.
She already knew Master Reed had a fierce temper. But she also recalled he’d helped her when she’d been in need. So she reasoned the worst she had to fear from this man was another spanking, and she also reasoned a spanking was something she could bear. Although…
“This is my home. You’ve no right to be here. And you’ve no right to meddle with any of my belongings,” Master Reed snarled at her as he closed the distance between them in two large strides.
Beth strived to appear unconcerned when he took hold of her arm. But the moment his fingers came into contact with her flesh, Master Reed’s dark eyes seemed to become warm and liquid, and that treacherous heat took hold of her whole body again as she glanced at him. They stared at each other mutely. And, at that moment, Beth understood one thing plainly. Master Reed also felt the very same heat she did. He felt that same maddening blaze in his own body whenever he looked at her. It was just like that between them.
He abruptly let go of her arm. His voice didn’t sound angry, but weary when he spoke to her.
“I told you I want nothing in return. I gave that money away freely. You should leave now.”
Beth hesitated for an instant. A part of her was telling her to fear the heat that clung between her and this man. Yet she’d never been a coward. So she decided to face that fear.
“I can work it off… My debt. By the look of this house, you sorely need someone to keep it for you.”
He shook his head gesturing to the door.
“I want you gone. Now. Gone from my house.”
The tone he spoke the words in was cold as ice, and Beth nearly shuddered. She was a stubborn woman, yet it was plain this man wanted nothing to do with her. She suppressed a sigh, understanding he might have helped her escape a grim fate, yet he probably believed her not only a thief but also a liar. What man would want such a woman in his house? Even a man as generous as Master Reed? She got a grip of herself, trying to quench the sudden pain which seized her heart. It was strange pain, because she barely knew this man, so she should not care what he thought of her.
“Good day to you then, Master Reed,” she said, striving to make her voice appear as unconcerned as before. “I shall send the money I owe you as soon as I am able to.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer, and simply let herself out.
Tom cursed under his breath viciously. He’d come back home from his errands just to look upon the plump, luscious form of the beautiful thief he’d never thought he’d see again. The beautiful thief. In his home... And his first impulse had been to come upon her and hoist her skirts and have her right then and there roughly upon the floor. It had taken a mighty effort to restrain himself.
He stared after her as she stepped out into his yard, puzzled she’d come to seek him out. Was it true, what she’d said? That she really wanted to repay her debt? Or maybe she thought him a fool she could further deceive into giving her more money.
He shrugged, trying to tell himself he should not care. He wanted nothing more to do with this woman, and he should put behind him the blazing lust he felt for her. Still he couldn’t help staring longingly after her, letting his gaze roam over the lovely swish of her hips, and recalling only too well how her plump behind had felt under his hand when he was spanking her.
It was then he saw another was also staring upon the woman with open, undisguised lust, and he found himself hating the predatory gaze of the man who’d come into his yard. It was Sir Lambert, the lord knight who’d commissioned the sword from him and who
’d come to test it himself. Tom narrowed his eyes. He disliked both Sir Lambert and the way the nobleman was now gazing upon the woman who had suddenly stopped in her tracks.
To him, the way she’d suddenly paused didn’t seem right, just as the way Sir Lambert was staring at her, and the satisfied smirk on the knight’s face, didn’t seem right. Without thinking, Tom strode out of the house to stand by the woman’s side.
“My Lord,” he said stiffly, making a minimal bow to Sir Lambert. “Your sword’s ready. If you could step inside my shop I will show it to you.”
Sir Lambert didn’t seem to take in Tom’s words. Instead, he cast savage eyes upon the woman. When Tom’s gaze fell upon her, he saw her face was pale and her lips pursed. By the way both the woman and Sir Lambert were looking upon one another, Tom understood they were already acquainted.
“Sir Lambert, the sword!” he called in a commanding voice, not liking, at all, the paleness in the woman’s face.
As if roused from a dream, Sir Lambert finally deigned to focus his gaze upon Tom.
“Ah, Master Blacksmith,” he muttered in heavily accented English, then suddenly glared. “How did you come to know this woman?”
Tom hated the contemptuous tone in which the lord knight spoke the words, and saw the woman stiffen at the sound of the knight’s voice. He also saw she was gazing at Sir Lambert with a look of undisguised contempt in her eyes.
“Sire,” Tom said in Norman, which he’d learnt to speak quite well, in a tone that was pleasant but firm. “With all due reverence to your station, this is my own business.”