by R. R. Vane
“Good,” he said, making his voice cheerful. “Although it’s been far milder than you deserved and you already know it. Next time you step out of bounds I’ll spank you harder,” he promised and suppressed a big smile at the way Beth widened her blue-green eyes.
The look in her eyes now held a mixture of astonishment and resentment, but there was something more he saw mirrored there.
“You said you were not a harsh man.” He heard her mutter, but her voice didn’t hold true fear.
“And I am not. Yet as my woman you need to learn the bounds of proper behaviour,” he said, although at this moment proper behaviour was the least of his concerns.
Improper behaviour was what he had in mind. Such as renewed lovemaking in broad daylight. But he sighed, knowing his work could wait no longer.
Beth narrowed her eyes.
“Proper? I am your leman, remember?”
He found he didn’t like the word anymore.
“You are my woman now,” he amended. “Are you denying that?”
Beth shook her head.
“No, but…”
“Arguing with me, already?” He grinned, finding the perfect excuse to do what he’d intended all along, and of postponing his work a little longer.
In a moment, Beth was draped over her lover’s lap, face down. Tom saw her brace herself for the searing touch of his hand falling upon her skin, but he’d already come to see she both feared the sting which would come and at the same time eagerly waited for it. He decided to be mischievous, and instead of swatting her behind, he began to rub it in tantalizing circles.
“A bit reddened from last night, but not red anymore,” he murmured, lightly brushing his fingers over her skin and knowing his touch was adding scorching heat to her already heated sex.
He couldn’t suppress a grin because when he stuck a finger inside her quim, he found her gushing wet. He struggled hard to keep his arousal at bay as he started further tending to her.
Beth hazily thought she’d never experienced sheer bliss until she had become acquainted to Tom Reed and his clever hands. They were clever hands indeed, as they could bring both punishment and rapture. So much rapture.
“Christ above,” she muttered when at last she came back to herself, then instantly regretted using blasphemous words.
Her lover didn’t seem to mind. He just chuckled as he lowered her on the bed, propping himself on his haunches above her. He parted her legs and rubbed his engorged manhood against her soaking wet quim.
“Mm… well spanked from last night. Well-loved from this morning, yet still gushing wet. For me,” he said, using words which made Beth blush to the roots of her hair.
Still, at this moment, she reasoned he could use whatever words he pleased after already giving her so much rapture. She understood he longed to thrust inside her again, yet she found him still hesitating, and he didn’t enter her even when she parted her legs widely and thrust her hips invitingly towards him. Was she too new and artless about this?
“Am I doing this wrong?” she asked him in earnest.
He laughed.
“Nay. I want to thrust inside you to the hilt. Yet you’re still new to lovemaking. And I loved you just moments before. I was just wondering whether you’re not still too sore.”
She glared at him.
“My bottom’s still sore and you know it.”
He sighed.
“So new to love play… and I keep forgetting. Dearling, I didn’t mean your bottom, but your quim.”
She still blushed scarlet as she shook her head. Still, he didn’t enter her.
“You’re certain, woman?” he muttered as his dark eyes glowed with undisguised longing.
Again she raised her hips to him, and this time he didn’t spurn her invitation. He thrust inside her, and then he loved her more gently and more leisurely than he had before. Yet he was big and Beth keenly felt his hardness within her body, and soon she forgot even to think, as she succumbed to the sheer rapture of being loved by him. Tom climaxed just after she did, spilling his seed, just as before, not inside her, but on the sheets.
“When are your monthly courses due?” he asked bluntly, as he was wiping his cock with one end of the sheet.
Beth hesitated at first, but in view of what they’d already shared, she made herself answer. “At the beginning of next month. Why are you asking?”
She wasn’t schooled in the ways of lovemaking, but she knew men didn’t like women to speak of such things, and stayed away from a woman’s bed while she was having her moontime. Yet she also recalled her mother had told her that missed monthly courses might mean a pregnancy, so she began to understand why he’d asked the question.
“But you didn’t give me your seed,” she said pointedly, also already knowing a woman couldn’t conceive unless she received her lover’s essence.
“I didn’t,” he nodded. “Yet I have not so much knowledge of such things. I heard it said a woman might sometimes find herself with child even if her lover withdraws from her body at the moment of his rapture. Perchance it would be better to keep a tight record of your courses. And I’ll think of a woman you can speak to. Perhaps she will know how to advise you.”
“Advise me?”
“Aye, I know for certain women use brews and herbs. And there is a thing such as a pessary you might inquire about,” he told her as he was washing up in the water basin by the bed.
Beth recalled having heard the word spoken by the priest in her hometown, who’d said women who used such things risked eternal damnation. But she also recalled how that very same priest had tried to woo her after her father and brothers’ deaths, and how he’d denounced her as a loose woman when she’d spurned his advances.
Tom obviously didn’t miss her hesitation.
“This is one of the reasons I got angry that you hid your innocence from me. The lovers I took after I parted from my wife were all knowledgeable of such things, and I cannot advise you in women’s matters. All I can do now is find someone who can. Neither you nor I are prepared to deal with a child out of wedlock.”
She nodded, although there was a strange sadness which came upon her when he uttered the word child. She’d always wanted children and had expected to cradle sons and daughters in her arms when she wed. But now she understood she may never wed. So she may never have children.
“Do you have children of your own? Already?” she asked, trying to push the nagging thought away.
“No. None. Sons nor daughters… Not in wedlock and not out of it,” Tom answered and his voice seemed tense and somewhat bitter as he spoke.
The words flew unwittingly, before she could call them back, “And did you never wish for children of your own?”
Tom had already fully dressed while they’d been talking. He stared away from her when she asked her artless question, just saying, “Have a care and clean yourself thoroughly, this time and every time after our lovemaking. I’m off to my chores, and I suppose you already know what yours are.”
She didn’t have the time to speak again, because he left the chamber hurriedly.
Chapter 5
As weeks passed, Tom had occasion to see Beth had not lied to him when she’d told him she was a hard worker. Every day she fulfilled her end of their bargain and he had naught to complain about regarding her housekeeping skills. Rather, he attempted to tell her he didn’t need her to toil so hard for his comfort, yet she shrugged his words away. She still had it in her head to repay her debt to him, although he’d let her know he didn’t think upon it as a debt. From his end, he’d tried to make her see he was prepared to give her coin for the housework she was doing for him, as it was only fair, yet she’d shaken her head.
“I’m in your debt already. You’re providing a roof over my head, and I share your bed. In spite of what you may think of me, I would never take coin for being someone’s woman.”
It had been on the tip of Tom’s tongue to tell her he’d paid Sarah Webb for the housework she’d done f
or him, even if they’d been lovers, yet Sarah Webb had never resided under his roof and he’d never dreamt of calling her his woman. He fell silent under Beth’s steady gaze, understanding he would be offending her if he talked of money between them again. He’d come to perceive she was a stubborn woman – in the days he’d gotten to know her – just as determined and as set in her ways as he was. And, in spite of what she’d done in the Square, he’d soon come to see she was no thief. He thought upon the look of sheer misery and despair he’d glimpsed upon her face that day, and upon the malicious, predatory smirk on Sir Lambert’s face. He could see very well how a man like Sir Lambert could ruin the life of a woman with no family left to protect her. And he thought of himself, understanding he was perhaps not much better than Sir Lambert, since he’d made a woman in need into his mistress. Still, that didn’t change the fact that this woman had a stubborn mind of her own and heeded him only when it suited her. Because this was how Beth behaved – she did all things her own way, he’d already come to see.
After their dazed rapture over the new member of their household, Micah, Declan and William had already started grumbling because Beth had soon taken it into her head to improve their lives in ways she thought fit. She’d started scolding them over their lack of cleanliness or slovenly habits, about bad manners or coarse language. And this did not endear her to the boys.
“I swear,” Declan complained mournfully. “She might look like an angel, but I’m beginning to think she’s a true fiend sent now on this earth to torment us.”
He had just been on the receiving end of a tongue lashing from Beth for his unkempt appearance. Micah and William muttered their ready assent.
“Well, you did spank her in the Square, Master Tom,” Micah ventured timidly. “Perchance if you spank her again…”
A pointed look from Tom stilled the boy’s tongue, although all three apprentices had started looking at him expectantly. When Tom made no answer and returned upon the hinges he’d been fashioning, Declan, as always the boldest among the boys, ventured to talk again.
“She is a sharp-tongued woman. Don’t you think a good spanking might make her sweet-tempered?”
Tom cast Declan an even more pointed look than the one he’d given Micah, which caused the lad to hastily return to his work. Tom shook his head, smiling within himself. Beth was sharp-tongued indeed, they’d all soon learnt, and liked to vent her displeasure. Yet she also often laughed and joked with the boys, and meant well when she scolded them. And while he fully intended to spank his woman if need ever arose again, it was not for her sharp tongue he would ever spank her. This was not something that troubled him in the least. As always, he was content with his hard work which took up most of his time, and having someone who’d taken his household in hand was a thing that pleased, rather than annoyed, him. Beth had begun concerning herself with the boys and was attempting to provide lessons he couldn’t teach them as well as she could. So Beth’s sharp tongue suited him fine.
“So far Master Tom hasn’t been on the receiving end of Beth’s sharp tongue.” He heard Declan mutter behind him. “But wait and see, soon she will try to rule over him just as she now rules upon us.”
Tom was certain the lad had meant for him to hear his words, but, before he could turn to rebuke him, Declan wisely made himself scarce, since it was already near lunchtime.
At lunch, Tom had occasion to see that Beth’s sharp tongue had indeed done its work because the boys’ table manners seemed far more guarded than they used to be. They no longer slurped down their meals, nor did they wipe their mouths with their sleeves. It was a thing he would not otherwise have noticed, as he was usually engrossed in thoughts of his work, yet the boys’ complaints and Beth’s talkative presence had made him more mindful of such things than he’d been in the past years since he’d parted from his wife.
At present, he became aware that, as was their habit, his apprentices were squabbling over their meal. He suppressed a deep sigh knowing how well they loved to quarrel. In truth, he’d long resigned himself that all his meals would be spent in the sound of the boys’ arguing. Unusually, Declan was silent at this time, as the squabble was taking place between Micah and William.
“If I’d ever counted how many times you called me a dimwit… And if it’s three hundred and sixty-five days, just as Master Tom says… Twelve times a day… For three whole years… Reckon how much that amounts to?” William was complaining.
It was, of course, an endless, pointless quarrel the boys had been having forever, and no one really expected an answer to the question.
“Thirteen thousand one hundred and forty,” Beth answered in an absent-minded fashion as she’d begun to clear away their bowls.
“That’s right!” William beamed, then started frowning upon Beth. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Beth answered with an unconcerned shrug, as she was taking the bowls away to scrub.
All three boys looked to Tom for confirmation, because none of them was strong with far simpler reckonings, and it took Tom a while to figure out the numbers in his head. Yet, in the end, he came to understand Beth had had the right of it. Three hundred and sixty-five multiplied by thirty-six was indeed no more and no less than what she’d said.
“She has the right of it,” he conceded, as he took a sip of his ale.
“No? Really?” William asked incredulously.
This led to the boys giving more numbers to Beth to work on in order to prove she hadn’t tricked them, as she was busying herself scrubbing their bowls. Her answers came fast and were rather absent-minded. Each time the boys looked to him to confirm whether she had the right of it. Tom could deal with the numbers, but every time he needed a while to think upon them, and, when the boys began to make the numbers even harder to put together, Tom understood he would need an abacus to figure them out.
“Just leave me be!” Beth told the boys tiredly at last. “I told you there is no trick I’m using. I can just do the numbers in my head and that’s the end of it.”
“I always thought women could not reckon numbers even half as good as men,” Micah muttered in the astounded silence that followed.
The others nodded their assent, and yet again looked to Tom to back them up. Tom finished his ale in one gulp, then rose from the table.
“Yet by now it should be already plain to you that some women can do so far better than some men,” he said with a smile, knowing he had to go back to his hammer and anvil.
He returned to his work with a shake of his head and a lingering smile on his lips. Fancy that! Beth’s astounding speed for reckoning numbers... In the last days he’d perceived she was quite clever, but it was not until today that he’d realized how clever she was indeed.
Beth cursed under her breath when she finished cleaning up, knowing too well she shouldn’t have revealed her uncanny ability with numbers to Tom or the boys. Only her family had known and used her skill, and they’d always advised her to be careful not to display it to strangers. Her mother had feared people would start whispering and call her a witch for her uncanny gift, while her father had been more concerned over her making a good match.
“Most men do not like it when their women are cleverer than them. So it’s best to show just some of your cleverness and not all of it,” he’d advised.
Beth had known her father had meant well, yet his words had strangely hurt. And both her parents’ advice had robbed her of some of the pleasure with which she reckoned numbers in her head. But now she’d forgotten herself, and had gotten caught up in the boys’ silly game. She’d perceived they’d grown to resent her in the last days. And now she expected they’d resent her even more. Whereas Tom… It was hard to tell what Tom actually thought because he wasn’t a talkative man. But she reckoned he might not be pleased that his woman was better with numbers than he was.
But when it was time to seek their bed, Tom did not seem changed towards her. He loved her more slowly and tenderly than he had other times, and Beth found herself
liking his sweetness just as much as she liked his usual passionate fierceness. Still, when they were done and Tom was lying beside her in bed, with a small smile of contentment on his face, she couldn’t help but fret over what had gone on earlier. Tom had not said anything about her gift. Did this mean he already resented it? It was enough that the boys already seemed to hate her…
“So what did Micah, William and Declan further say?” she blurted out, rather artlessly.
Tom adjusted his pillow.
“Of what?”
“You know!” she said perhaps too forcefully.
“Of your sharp tongue?” Tom inquired with a yawn.
“No. What? I’m not sharp-tongued!” she scoffed.
It was true she was forthright, but sharp-tongued? Never!
“Fine. As you say,” Tom said in a voice that showed he was already drifting into sleep.
But Beth felt she couldn’t sleep. She sat up, discontent.
“I’m not sharp-tongued!” she repeated to herself, hurt that Tom would think to berate her for an imagined fault rather than praise her for her accomplishments.
“And why would Micah, William and Declan, and why would you for that matter take into your heads that I’m sharp-tongued? Because I’ve told them to mind their manners? And I suppose they’re entitled to go on about me, but no one will call them sharp-tongued?”
She was now speaking in a high voice, and Tom opened one of the eyes he’d closed.
“Desist! I wish to sleep in peace.”
Beth didn’t pay him in any mind.
“Just because I will no longer stand for them making a pigsty of this place? Oh, the unfairness of it!”
Tom sat up.
“Right,” he said tersely.
Beth was uncertain how a man as large as he was could move so fast at times. Yet she had to own up he was uncommonly fast whenever he took it into his head to put her over his knee, Beth mused, as she found herself lying facedown over his lap.