by Marie Hall
"I do not ride," she wailed as the sobs wracked her.
Xavier would never be one to say Io had no spine as she stood before him crying for the hurt he laid on and was still defiant. With a shake of his head, he set his hands at her waist. Before he could lift, her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground.
"I do not ride," she said again between gasping breaths.
"Io," Xavier started then considered what this resistance might mean. If she struggled while they rode, they could both end up hurt. But the walk would take hours. "Io," he tried again. Then it came to him. "Walk then if you choose." Her head jerked up and her sobbing became gasping, hiccups. "Remember though, it is your choice and when you are ready to change your mind…" He helped her stand and turned her so she started on her way.
Xavier took a moment to remove his sword and sheath from his belt and store them behind his saddle. He watched Io increase the distance between them then removed his belt folded it in half and, taking the reins, started on foot following her.
His longer stride put him alongside her in only a dozen steps. He kept himself to her left. Before they took five steps, he drew his arm back and landed the belt on the center of her arse. She screamed as he landed a second blow.
Io's hands flew back. She took several rushed steps forward then turned to face him. A questioning and hurt expression crossed her face, her sobs renewed as she stood in the middle of the road. Xavier took her arm as he passed and started her moving again. He waited until they'd gone a few dozen steps and Io's defenses dropped before he let the leather fly again. He only got in one swing before Io reacted to protect her bottom. Xavier stayed beside her even as she danced away. Her hands still covered his main mark and the next stroke landed low on her thighs. The pain stumbled her.
"Stop," she yelled, working to stay upright.
"Ride," he countered and watched her eyes go wide. He watched as she battled with the decision. Why she did, he couldn't reconcile. How hard was it to choose to avoid the pain being inflicted in favor of a swift ride back to the house where comforts awaited? She still hesitated so he added some incentive by pointing down the road and commanding, "Walk."
Io whimpered, giving him a wary look. She took two sideways steps, paused then took two more. Her eyes dropped to where his belt swung easy at his side. "I… I… do not ride."
"Then walk," Xavier replied without compassion.
She still looked at him with fear and suspicion but she took a step, then another. The belt landed again on her thighs. She screamed and tripped then went down on her knees in the dirt. "Stop," her plea stabbed at him and he ground his teeth to resist giving in.
"Ride. Choose to ride and I will stop."
"It is no choice."
"It is, perhaps not one you want, but it is a choice." Xavier walked over to her and bent down. He slipped his fist, still clutching the strap, under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "Sometimes, Io, we must choose between two things, neither of which will gain satisfaction. Choose the one which gives you the best outcome as close to satisfaction as you might achieve."
Her eyes squeezed shut and she took in a trembling breath then nodded.
Xavier released his own, satisfied he'd not have to continue inflicting hurt. He helped her stand then led her quaking to the horse. Shoving the belt in his pack, he swung into the saddle. The animal shifted and stomped nervously and he saw Io flinch and tense. She actually seemed to fear getting on the horse. Much like before he taught her to ride. Certainly she'd not ridden at all for a few months as far as he knew but she knew how and shouldn't be afraid. He leaned down and, touching her shoulder, directed her to turn so he could lift her up.
The moment she was seated before him, she broke into sobs. It was impossible but she tried to curl up. Xavier repositioned her twice, each time pushing her legs down and pulling her back straight. He finally had to drop the reins and use both arms to hold Io in a safe position against his chest. He urged the horse forward guiding it with his legs. The pace was perhaps slower than when they walked, but Io still cried and shook.
"Io, what is the matter?" His arms tightened.
"I do not ride," she blubbered.
"Yes you do." What was this about? Her protests were about sharing her horse with a guest, weren't they? "Io, you ride." She said nothing only cried and remained so stiff and tense each step the horse took jarred her. "Io, you will not fall. I will keep you safe." His words didn't seem to help. Deciding the best course was to get home so she could get off the animal, he adjusted her against him, took up the reins and urged the horse into a fast canter.
He rode through the gates and pulled to a stop in the outer yards. Io's hysterics became frightening. A groom took the halter holding the horse still while Xavier lowered Io and dismounted. She couldn't stand on her own but she wouldn't hold onto him.
"My lord," Gunther came to lend a hand.
Xavier took a look around trying to assess how best to deal with this. Sweeping Io up, he headed to the grain bins. He set Io on one and grabbed the bucket from the hook. "You," he called to a passing boy.
"Henry," Io gulped for air.
"What?" Xavier glanced back at her.
"His... his… name is Henry." She shuddered.
Xavier set his palm on the side of her face. "Of course it is. Henry," he called, not surprised his wife knew the name of some random servant. The boy rushed over and Xavier held the bucket out to him. "Put fresh water in this and bring it back. Be quick."
"Please," Io added in a weepy voice.
The boy smiled at her and Xavier fought to not roll his eyes. Why any doubt about who was the lady here existed he wouldn't ever understand. Who in this house didn't love his wife? Who wouldn't trip over themselves to do her bidding?
"What happened?" Gunther asked handing Io a bit of cloth. Io lifted her hand and gestured towards the horse still being held by the groom. "Io," Gunther sounded almost chiding. "It is not dis…" he started but when Io nodded her head emphatically he stopped and sighed heavily. Whatever was going on clearly Xavier was the only one not aware.
"Here is the water, sir." The boy thrust the bucket towards Xavier sloshing half the contents over the edge.
He opened his mouth to scold the boy but was distracted when Gunther leaned in close and said something in Io's ear. She shook her head and he thought he heard her say "no.” Again Gunther leaned in and spoke and Io started nodding her head again.
"It is; I will not do it. I will not," she sobbed. Gunther seemed to concede and he stepped back then turned and walked away.
"Sir?" Henry's questioning voice brought Xavier back to the boy. Xavier took the bucket then took the cloth from Io.
"Be about, Henry," Io said and the boy scampered away.
Xavier dunked the cloth in the water and set the bucket aside so he could use both hands to wring out the excess. "Are you settled?" He spread the cloth over his open right hand and, holding the back of Io's head with his left, he washed her face with big sweeping movements. She nodded awkwardly as he continued to try to erase the evidence of her distress. He passed the cloth over her face once more before tossing it aside and lifting her down from the bin. Taking her hand, they started for the house. Passing through the inner gates, Io came to a sudden stop. Xavier looked at her then followed her gaze to the steps. He suppressed the oath caused by his mother's presence at the top of the steps, her arms folded over her chest and her demeanor screaming annoyance. Beside him, Io started crying again.
"Io." Xavier stepped around blocking her view. "Stop, do not show her weakness." He stepped closer hoping to lend Io some courage even if it were in short supply within him. "You are mistress here, Io. You are my wife. Do you understand me?" When she hesitated to answer, he made his tone sterner. "Do you understand me, my lady?"
"Yes," she whispered, not at all convincingly.
"Hold your head up and hold your tongue still," Xavier warned taking her hand, turning back and again started them walking.
"Io is my wife, Mother. This is her home," Xavier said and worked to not show how annoyed he was to practically have to drag Io up the steps.
"She is not. You gave your vows under duress and cannot be held to them."
"I did no such thing. I took my vows freely without coercion." Xavier pulled Io against his side. "And it matters not at all what was said or done during the ceremony as Io was already my wife through royal edict months before we stood at the church doors."
"She is not suitable. I will not have it." Charlotte's peevish tone grated. Was he not clear? Did he not make it as plain as he possibly could?
"Mother, it is not for you to speak. Io is my wife, she is lady here and you will treat her with the respect and reverence her status gives her."
"I will speak and I will be heard. She is not a suitable choice and I demand you appeal to have this farce ended."
"Io already tried that, Mother. If you were not told, her request for an annulment was denied and the king does not want to hear about it again."
"Appeal to the pope and—" His mother stepped towards them and Io shrunk back.
"I will not and neither will you."
"I will if you—"
"If you try again to end my marriage, Mother, I will declare you a traitor to the crown and you will be dealt with as such. Io will be my wife until death." He pushed past the sputtering woman, dragging Io along behind.
"Xavier?" Io stopped and stepped away. "Xavier, she is your mother. You cannot…"
"I can, Io. I told you I will not abandon you." Xavier watched her wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her upset and confusion as well as her fear were all clear in her tired expression. Hadn't he been clear? Why would Io doubt the permanence of her status or his own devotion? Perhaps they needed to sit down and speak to these facts. Perhaps she'd heard differently or not understood. "Io, the day has already been long. For now, go find a bed. Rest. We will speak on this matter tonight."
"Xavier, your mother?"
"Io, please do as I tell you," he said gently. Still, she smothered a sob before racing away.
"Still temperamental?"
Xavier spun around at the sound of his younger brother's voice. The twins stood behind him. Michael and Stephen, he'd forgotten they were here. "You were supposed to keep Mother with you in Southtown," Xavier said wondering why these two left Xavier's southern most holding.
"Mother didn't come with any such instructions," Michael told him.
"And she wants all of her children here to see you wed to Blake," Stephen shrugged. "She doesn't want you with that one." His head jerked in the direction Io went.
"What Mother wants is irrelevant. I am wed to Io. The king reaffirmed his desire and as I told Mother, again, that is how things will remain." Xavier knew he held a great deal of power and control over these two men. Their very existence was dependent on his goodwill towards them. But, like him, their mother wasn't someone they challenged.
"Mother will not give up you know. I can see no benefit in challenging her. The Blake woman is a decent sort. Her family is well established. And she is as pretty as the one you have," Michael continued as if Xavier hadn't spoke.
Stephen snorted, "She is far prettier. That one is boney. Like trying to fuck a stick."
Xavier stepped up, grabbing his brother's throat. "You speak about my lady wife, brother," his tone conveying his deadly intent. "You will remember not only her position in my house but her rank as a countess. Speak against her again and it will end badly for you." Xavier let go with a shove that sent his brother tripping backward.
"Xavier, you cannot challenge Mother," Stephen warned rubbing at his neck.
"Do not become comfortable here," Xavier said as he walked away. "You will not be staying."
Chapter Three
The early morning sun was slow to chase the shadows from the room. Io lay on her side watching the sky lighten. She was alone. If Sarah joined her at any time, she didn't know. Xavier sent her to rest yesterday and Io couldn't remember past crawling into bed and giving into the sobs.
She could still feel the turmoil churning in her head and stomach. Setting her hand on the swell of her arse, she also felt the ache of Xavier's displeasure though she knew it'd fade away in a day or two. Always before she'd continue to moan and whine about it for as many days as seemed reasonable. If it made Xavier consider her more kindly, she didn't know. He never really seemed to feel guilt for any punishment, but he also seemed to hesitate to do more than scold as long as she displayed anything less than full recovery from his discipline.
This time though, she wasn't sure if more from him wasn't much deserved. What exactly any of the events the day before meant she couldn't be sure. And seeing as she couldn't speak to anyone who might advise, all she could do was make of it what she might. And that made tears of hurt well, while the warmth of hope flickered in her heart.
Xavier had come for her. He'd plainly restated their marriage was valid and he wasn't willing, for now, to change this. She wasn't particularly surprised he'd thrashed her for leaving the house. She'd promised him, before, she'd give him the chance to try to make things right for her in the house. Though his means to force her on the horse were certainly unjust, his concern afterwards seemed true.
Io rolled to her back, wiping tears that escaped the cage of her lashes. He'd brought her back and, for the first time, demanded his mother remember it was she, Io, who held authority in the house. But what kind of trouble would it bring? Lady Charlotte's threats to bring in the high church sounded dire. Io had one experience with the pope's representative when she was still a child and passing through one of the many houses where she'd been placed. She knew nothing of the situation. Only by the time it was over, six people were hanging in the yards, including the lord of the house, the rest of the family was forced out, their possessions claimed, and the house burned to the ground; all in the name of the church. If such power was held by one man, and what a king put in place could be destroyed so easily, what might happen here if Xavier challenged the man? What would all the people do if this house was brought down? Where would they go? How might they all suffer? And for what? For her? Why? She didn't want any of it.
Why Xavier continued to insist, she couldn't know. He said sometimes one had to make hard choices. The best one could do was to choose the best results. Being rid of her would mean everyone else remained safe with a house and a livelihood. He could take another wife, she sniffed and wiped her eyes again. Lady Sabrina was more suitable. No one disputed that. Not even Xavier said it wasn't so.
Why then, did he work so hard to hold onto her? If the pope was more powerful than a king, and if the vows meant nothing, then all that kept them united was the contract. Contracts were broken all the time so one could take advantage of something more beneficial. Xavier had to know it was in the best interest of the people if he didn't challenge anyone with power for her. His responsibility to the people needed to be foremost.
Io could accept the reasoning in her head, but the rest of her hurt knowing the truth. If she and Xavier considered first the needs of the people, the choice was clear. Again she needed to wipe away tears. Xavier would eventually come to the same conclusion. If he was nothing else, he was a man loyal to protocols and doing things the way they should be done. Her only hope now was that he didn't give her another reason to hope for a different ending. The moment of hope that flared when he kissed her yesterday left a nasty burn.
A knock startled her and she rolled to put her back to the door as it opened without welcome. "Io, wake up and get dressed." Xavier's stern voice did not comfort Io who refused to look back at him.
"I am both, sir," she said. It was the truth; she was in the clothes from yesterday having fallen asleep dressed with no one waking her to either eat or undress. Xavier hadn't required her presence for the talk they were to continue about the situation. Not that she was surprised.
"No, Io." The mattress gave under his weight and she rolled helplessly towards him. "Get up and dress appropriately." He shifted and she rolled completely towards him. He took a fistful of her dress. "Not in these borrowed rags you have insisted on."
He was so close she felt the warmth of his body and with the feel of his kiss fresh on her mind, if not on her lips, her body refused her silent plea to ignore him. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she managed to shake her head at him.
She watched him push back and stand straight next to the bed. "Io, this is not a request. Do as I say." He leaned down again taking hold of her at the shoulder and hip. With unnerving ease, he flipped her face down. Before she could move he'd shoved both her knees close to her chest and tossed up her skirts.
Io braced for the blow but rather than a painful strike his hand settled and delivered a gentle stroke. Sweeping over the fullest part of her rump, his palm came to rest with his long, strong, callused fingers tickling at her now swelling and seeping sex. His thumb brushed an especially tender spot and Io bit her lip to stop the moan.
"You are already marked, Io." He again stroked the bruise. "I care not to deliver more suffering onto you." He removed his hand and stood straight. Io shifted cautiously, not having his leave to move from the position he'd placed her in. When she was again flat, she turned to look at him; she watched a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. "Dress, Io, and then meet me in the hall to break fast."
"I am not hungry."
"Did it sound at all like a request?" His voice still had an edge but the smile continued to play on his lips.
Io pushed up making sure her skirts covered her. "Your hall is an unwelcoming place. I am not hungry, and I have no other dress. I will stay here that I am not a bother to anyone."
He surprised her then by turning and walking from the room. He left the door open though and she heard him when he started speaking with someone. He stepped back in, the satisfied smile he wore didn't sit well. "A maid will be in shortly with a dress. You will be in the hall within the hour. For while I care not to add more bruises to your arse, it is not to be said I will not." He turned then, pulling the door closed with him. "One hour, Io." The door shut softly.