“So, let me be sure I have the right of this. You believed I would exact my revenge for the death of my brother on a small child, a blameless child, even after the true culprit was long dead. Out of what? Spite? Did you perhaps consider me cruel? Given to acts of mindless savagery?” He narrows his eyes in disbelief. “I know I was hard on you that day, and the day that followed perhaps, but did I truly create such an impression?”
I shake my head, sobbing in earnest now. “No, my lord. Well, yes, at first, perhaps, in the confusion, the horror and despair, amid all that was happening. But not as I came to know you. I quickly realised that you would not harm me, and that you would not have harmed a child. But by then Sophia was already gone, sent to the emperor’s court. I was married to you, against my wishes, terrified of what the future might hold. Please, please try to imagine how it was for those of us trapped in the castle when it fell. I expected to die that day, I truly did. I was near enough paralysed by fear, beyond reason. My instinct was to hide, to protect. To survive. I made bad choices, I see that now, but desperation will do that.”
I am weeping now, transported back into the nightmare that was that day, but this time with the liberty to succumb to my feelings in a manner that I could not have afforded then. When we were first conquered, I suppressed my feelings, my almost blind panic, and I did what I had to do, for myself, for Sophia, for such others I might be able to help. Now, the danger is passed, the floodgates are opened, and I let it all out.
Stefan’s arms are around me. I am amazed, I did not expect his tenderness, not now, not over this. Yet I have it. His voice is in my ear, murmuring, comforting, assuring.
“Cry, little one. Let it go. It is over. I have you, you are safe now.”
I cling to his tunic, and somehow crawl into his lap. He is rocking me, childlike, in his arms. I continue to sob, for the little girl I have lost, and for the life here I may yet lose if Stefan cannot find it in him to forgive me.
“I am sorry. I should have trusted you. From the very beginning, I should have known…”
“Shhhh, love. How could you have known? Later, yes. But not at first. I know that. I understand that.”
“I was wrong. I am so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“I always do, always will. Eventually. This will be fine. We will make it fine between us, my little Tally.”
At last, gulping, I manage to raise my ravaged face to his beautiful one again. From somewhere my husband has produced a kerchief, which he uses to wipe the tears from my cheeks. His touch is gentle, loving. I do not deserve it.
“Are you angry?” He has not said so, and his actions do not suggest it.
“Nay, sweetheart, at least not for the reasons you are thinking. I am not best pleased with you, but we will get to that. First, I wish to know more of this child. Sophia, did you say?”
I nod.
“And she is what? Three years old?
“She will be four in the spring.”
“She must have been very young when you married her sire.”
“But a few months old. I became her mama. The only one she knew.”
“It is clear that you care deeply for her. You remained close then, after her father’s death?”
“Yes. Sophia became a ward of the Hohenzollern court, but Susanna allowed me to remain there too. The princess is but a distant cousin of mine, though she was kind to me.”
“And all was well, until the imperial army arrived to storm the castle?”
“Yes. I suppose that is so. I always knew a time would come when we would be separated, but I had hoped…” I hesitate as tears threaten once more.
“You lost more than just your home that day, my sweet, I see that now. I wish I had known earlier. I could have offered you reassurance.”
“I should have trusted you, I see that now. Berthe trusted you, she told me I could talk to you.”
“You should have listened to her. You see, my love, I can appreciate your reasons for concealing the full facts from me whilst we were still at Hohenzollern. I am not entirely without wit or imagination, I can appreciate the trauma of conquest, particularly for women and children. Your assessment of me was wrong, but I can understand how you arrived at it and I do not blame you for your secrecy that day. I was not especially gentle in my handling of you. I required you to comprehend the true nature of your new situation and to submit to it so my treatment of you may have been heavy-handed. I made you fear me, and this was a consequence.
“But you did not fear me for long, not really. Certainly by the time we arrived here I believe we were on a more, shall we say affectionate footing? You saw that I had children too, you know how I feel about them. You could not still have been harbouring doubts as to Sophia’s safety at my hands.”
“No, my lord.”
“So, why did you not tell me? I asked you, and you lied to me. On several occasions.”
“I am sorry. Please, forgive me.”
“Why, Tally?”
“Because it was already too late. Sophia was gone, I would not see her again. And, you and I were starting to become close. Closer. I did not want to spoil that.”
“Honesty and trust enrich a relationship. They do not spoil it.”
“I know, but I did not want to displease you. You told me that I was to be a mama to your children, to Clare especially. I did not think you would appreciate my affections being split.”
“But they were split, whether I knew it and appreciated it or not. Is that not the case?”
“I suppose so, but I swear I have never neglected my responsibilities here. I would not do that.”
“I know you would not. I have no complaints on that score. What I do take issue with, Tally, is your continued attempts to evade telling me the truth. I need you to understand your fault in that regard, and to accept the consequences of it.”
I know what that means. He intends to punish me. It will hurt, but I will learn from it. And after, it will be done with. God willing. I meet his gaze.
“I understand, my lord. Do you wish me to accompany you to our chamber?”
“No. You will meet me there shortly. First, you will go to the coppice I mentioned earlier and cut several switches. I leave the selection up to you, but be assured I intend to teach you a memorable lesson and I expect your full cooperation in that. If I am less than satisfied with your choices and forced to make my own trip down to the woods, I will exact retribution for my trouble, on top of that which you have already earned. Do I make my wishes entirely clear?”
“Yes, my lord. Perfectly clear.”
“Then go now. Make all reasonable haste and I will see you in our chamber when you return. Do not keep me waiting.”
Chapter Twelve
She has not been tardy, I will grant her that much. I turn from the window having watched Tally traverse the bailey below, a bundle of what might be mistaken for firewood in her arms. I doubt any in our household would be fooled though as to the true purpose of the sticks she carries, though no one will be so indelicate as to ask.
I do not care. I will be master of my house, and that includes my wife. I sense that this is a pivotal moment between us. I expect her to scream and squirm and beg me to have mercy, all of that is a foregone conclusion. I will ignore her pleas and deliver the discipline she needs, the discipline she has come to expect from me. Then we will move on from this.
I do not enjoy punishing my beautiful little bride, not like this. Not when the matter is so serious. But I will do what I have to in order to ensure our future together. This is as much about Tally forgiving herself as it is my requirement for justice.
I am not without sympathy for the circumstances that brought her to this situation. The brutality of the fall of Hohenzollern must have been beyond terrifying for those helpless females and children on the receiving end and it is little wonder that Tally behaved as she did that day. Had I not been so preoccupied with the responsibilities of my command, and had she not scared me almost witless with her fli
ght and subsequent near-death I might have given voice to the questions that nattered me even then. The clues were there, in her obsession with the fate of the children in the chapel, her irrational attempt to regain entry to the castle. I could have pressed her for answers.
But I did not, and here we now are. I will deliver the thrashing she deserves for her deception, Tally is unlikely to feel able leave this chamber before tomorrow at the earliest, and then she will still be in considerable discomfort. But she will heal, she will forgive me. I have already forgiven her.
Light footsteps approach the chamber from the hallway outside, then the door opens. Tally slips inside and halts by the door. I stride past her to close it, and I drop the latch.
“Show me the switches.”
Head bowed, she offers her bundle to me for my perusal.
“Select one, please.”
“Me, my lord?”
“Is there another here who I might be addressing?”
“No, my lord. I am sorry.” She glances at the tangle of twigs and draws out one of them. “This one, Stefan.”
I take it and swing it through the air. It makes a whistling sound, very satisfying. Tally flinches.
“Excellent. And now another, please.”
“Another, my lord?”
“If you please.” I hold out my left hand, the first switch dangling from my right.
Tally selects a second one and hands it to me. It joins the first, and this time I swing both together. The accompanying sound is louder, more menacing.
“I believe we are getting there. One more though, I think.”
I am aware from her stunned expression that Tally realises where we are headed. She is pale, her fingers trembling as she hands me the third switch. I repeat my test swing, the loud whooshing sound sufficient to strike fear into the most stoic of constitutions. My Tally is right to be nervous, but despite my earlier expectations I note she makes no attempt to plead, nor to beg for clemency. I am proud of her.
“I would have you naked. Put the remaining switches on the floor. Remove your clothes, then bend over the chest.” I gesture to the large clothing chest that usually stands under the window, but which I dragged into the centre of the chamber while Tally was at the coppice. I have made the concession of laying a bolster across the top of it, for her comfort, but also to ensure her bottom is raised sufficiently for my liking.
White-faced, Tally struggles to remove her woollen dress and kirtle. Her fingers are shaking, she fumbles with her fastenings but eventually manages to divest herself of her clothing. I could offer to help, but I do not. Instead I hitch my hip on the window ledge, the three switches clasped in my hand and dangling at my side as I regard her efforts. Whatever the circumstances, I always enjoy watching Tally undress.
She pulls her shift over her head and stands naked before me for a few moments. Then without further instruction on my part, she walks to the chest and leans over it. I watch as she positions herself, her feet on the floor on one side, her hands just reaching the floor on the other.
She never looked more beautiful to me, or more perfect.
“On your toes, please. Lift your bottom higher for me.”
She wriggles, raising her lush derriere as requested. I move to stand behind her, the better to admire the pink globes. It is all I can do not to drool. I consider fucking her first, but dismiss that. She would not protest, but I know how scared she is of the switching she has coming, and I have no wish to draw this out for her.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, my lord.”
She could ask me how many strokes I intend to give her, but she does not.
“You will remain still until I tell you that you may stand up. You can make as much noise as you please, as I have taken the precaution of asking Mathilde to ensure Clare is out of earshot. Do you have any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Then for the sake of clarity, tell me why I am punishing you.”
“Because I did not tell you why I was unhappy. I should have told you all about Sophia. I should have trusted you.”
“And in the future?”
“I will always answer honestly any questions you put to me. I swear that I will, but I need you to punish me anyway.”
“Why is that, Tally?” I step closer, and trail the switches across her quivering buttocks, from right to left.
“Because I wronged you. This will make it right.”
“If ever you so much as consider lying to me again, you will remember this moment, and those that are about to come, and you will think better of it. Yes?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Breathe in, Tally.”
I wait a moment as her body shifts, then I deliver the first strike, hard and sharp across her right buttock.
She lets out a short scream, and I pause for a few moments to allow the three perfect stripes to ripen across her pale skin. She is gasping, shifting from one foot to the other but managing to remain in place.
“Breathe in again, Tally.”
She does, and my next stroke is directed at her left buttock. It leaves three deep red lines, in beautiful symmetry with those adorning the right side. She is whimpering now, and I know I will not be able to maintain this for long. She is receiving the equivalent of three strokes for every one I deliver, and has thus far not offered any complaint.
I shift my stance, and strike her on the right side again, below the marks left by my first stroke. This time she does scream, loud. Now, we are getting somewhere. I repeat the blow on her left buttock, drawing another shriek of agony from her. If she were to beg me to stop I would not blame her. Neither would I stop. We are not yet done here.
The next two strokes are laid across the backs of her thighs, in that spot that will ensure she does not sit in comfort for the next several days. She is whimpering between the strokes now, but managing to remain in position.
I land two strokes across the centre of her bottom, in quick succession, catching both buttocks. Her whimpers are now groans. She is hurting, really hurting. The crimson marks of my discipline now crisscross her bottom, glowing, livid, etched into her tender skin. I lay the palm of my left hand on her buttock and feel the heat radiating. We are almost there.
“Two more strokes, Tally, then we are done.”
She does not answer me, but I discern her slight nod and I know she is still with me in this. I see no merit in delay so I drop the remaining two strokes across her thighs, hard and fast. I am determined to deliver a memorable lesson and I am satisfied with my work.
I drop the switches to the floor and move round to crouch on the other side of the chest, beside Tally’s head. I lift her hair, which has been trailing on the floor in a thick, flaxen wave. Her face is ashen, still contorted in pain. Her tears are flowing, her sobs soundless now.
“We are done. You may stand.”
She uses her hands to attempt to push herself up, but to no avail. I will not watch her struggle now. I shove my arms under her shoulders and ease her up. Sliding my other arm around her waist, I help her to her feet. She wobbles, and I know her knees are about to give way under her. I scoop her up in my arms and head for the bed.
I lie on it, and arrange Tally on top of me, face down. Her breathing is rapid, jerky, and I lay my fingertips on the side of her neck to feel her pulse there racing too. But it is slowing, steadying as I hold her. I murmur words of comfort into her ear, soft whispers intended to soothe, to reassure. She says nothing to me, but I know she hears me. She kisses me, her lips soft in the crook of my neck.
I wonder, not for the first time, what I did to deserve this most exquisite of women.
* * *
The first shoots of spring are poking through the hard earth, little green buds sprouting optimism and hope for the future. Karl and I turn our steeds back in the direction of Richtenholst, leaving the men who came out to hunt in the forest with us to strap our kill to the back of a spare mount. Two roe deer and a wild boar, sufficient food to en
sure full bellies for a while. Helena and Otto will butcher the carcasses and salt up any meat we will not consume at once.
Tally too has developed some skill in the art of household management. She informs me that she was taught the craft as a child, but never had any opportunity to practice it in her previous marriages. The first time she was but a child and her mother-in-law held the reins of their domestic arrangements. The second time she married a man whose housekeeping had run like clockwork for thirty years in the capable hands of a formidable bailiff. Tally lacked the confidence to challenge for her position, and in any case, the count de Chapelle wanted a pretty young thing to warm his bed, not a chatelaine to warm his hearth. It seems to me he achieved neither, though his loss is my gain.
Tally has been my duchess for three months, and for the most part I would say she was born to it. Clare adores her, and is rarely far from her side. Under Tally’s gentle encouragement my little ward has flourished into the happy, outgoing child she should have always been. Alex and Fabian are fond of their stepmama too, though they insist on pretending otherwise. Aloof and preoccupied with their studies and training by day, they gravitate to Tally in the evening as she entertains them with stories or music. She is an accomplished player of the lute, and often strums a song or two for us after our evening meal. Her singing voice is perhaps less impressive, but none of us sees any reason to take issue with that.
It is in my bedchamber though that her finest skills and qualities come to the fore. She is submissive to the core. She will drop naked to her knees, a radiant smile upon her face, at the merest lift of my finger. Her occasional lapses regarding the use of my given name are, I suspect, deliberate as she craves the rough edge of a punishment spanking as much as she loves the sting of a more erotic one. She spends a great deal of her time tied to my bed, a circumstance we both find most satisfying.
She seems content at Richtenholst. More than content. I believe her to be happy and I am relieved for that. I have encouraged her to speak to me of Sophia, and I believe that has helped her to come to terms with her new situation.
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