Renaissance Discipline

by Renee Rose

  * * *

  Having a good cry was not something one does often as an adult. Once she was into the rhythm of it, she found it hard to stop. Celia sobbed for a very long time, forgetting why she was crying, just letting her body take over and release the emotion that still bubbled up in her. After Lucia had snapped at Tomi, he had quietly left the room, and Lucia rolled over and cuddled her. She held her sister's hand and emptied herself, moistening the bedding with her tears.

  She must have fallen asleep at some point, but she woke, whimpering, and heard the creak of the floorboard and movement in the room. Confused momentarily about where she was, she made another little mewl of fear and then felt a hand on her head.

  "Shh."

  She remembered. It was Tomi. He stood next to her bed, stroking her head. She grasped his hand with hers and clung to it, grateful for the contact despite, or perhaps because of, her utter confusion and emotional upheaval around the man.

  As her sleepiness cleared, she pushed herself to sit. "Where were you sleeping?"

  "On the floor. Go back to sleep."

  She scooted over on the tiny bed, pressing herself against Lucia. "Here. There's room."

  He hesitated.

  In the darkness, she sensed him. She knew he was torn. She sensed his hunger for her and a need that was not sexual. And she felt the distant, practical Tomi warring with the hungry one. She knew the moment he made his decision, before he moved and eased himself down beside her. She rolled over and gave him her back.

  He draped an arm around her waist and pulled her body snug against his. They fit together like nesting dolls, and his warm body against hers sustained her.

  "Nibble a little bite of bread," Celia coaxed Lucia in the carriage the next day. Lucia had not eaten breakfast, but Celia asked the innkeeper to wrap up some food for them, and she'd been continually pressing her with little bites of bread and cheese. She didn't like the dark circles under her sister's eyes or the way her mouth was pinched tight at the corners.

  They had all been stiffly polite that morning after they woke, while they gathered their things up and performed their morning ablutions. They'd broken fast and departed, the horse Tomi had ridden tethered to the back of the carriage.

  Lucia took the bread and popped it into her mouth, her expression making it look like she'd eaten an insect.

  A fresh wave of guilt for dragging her sister into this folly washed over Celia. Tomi watched her with something that looked suspiciously like sympathy. She glared at him, because it was either that or cry.

  He shook his head, rolling his eyes heavenward, and she instantly felt like a silly girl.

  "I don't want you to leave Parma," she blurted.

  He raised his eyebrows skeptically.

  "I don't. I'll stop quarreling with…"

  At that moment there was a loud crack, and she was airborne.

  "Hang on!" Tomi shouted, lunging for Lucia.

  The carriage hit the ground again, and there was another loud snapping sound. Celia was thrown sideways, her head smacking the side of the door as her body flew out into the open air. As if in slow motion, she watched the carriage keel sideways, skidding along the ground below her, and then pain exploded as she hit the ground on her side. She suspected every bone in her body had broken. Or maybe it just felt that way.

  Blessedly, everything went black.

  Chapter Five

  He wrapped his arms around Lucia to protect her as the carriage tipped on its side and their bodies were flung into a corner, dirt and stones flying in. The skidding motion finally stopped, and they coughed, gasping and trying to get their bearings.

  "Are you all right? Lucia?" The panic he attempted to tamp down had crept into his voice.

  "Y-yes," her voice came uncertainly. "Thank you."

  "Are you sure?" His only thought when the carriage had tilted had been to keep her unborn baby safe. The primal male instinct to protect a pregnant woman had risen strongly in him.

  He helped her to stand, looking up to the side door, which was now facing skyward. The carriage driver's face appeared, a dark shape against the light of the sky. "Signore? Countess? Where is the signorina?"

  His heart stopped. Oh God. Where was Celia? He helped Lucia to her feet and grasped her around the waist, hoisting her upward toward the outstretched arm of the driver. He clasped her arm and pulled her out as Tomi helped push on her from behind, placing her foot on his shoulder so she could push off him to scramble out. He didn't wait for the driver to help him, clamoring out and looking around.

  "Celia!" he called out.

  Nothing.

  "Celia?" He took off running in the direction of where they had lost their wheel. He saw the wheel lying near the side of the road. Oh, God in Heaven. Why did there have to be two women to protect? He had protected Lucia, only to lose Celia. He didn't see her anywhere.

  "Celia! Celia!" His voice rang out in panic.

  He ran in zigzags, traversing the terrain around the area the carriage had traveled since it hit the first pothole. His panic mounted as, again and again, his calls were answered with silence. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. At last he spotted her – a crumpled heap, lying unmoving, 30 feet from the road. He spotted the wine-colored fabric of her dress first, and he ran, his breath suspended.

  She was not dead. She was still breathing, though her face was pale.

  "Celia?" he croaked. "Celia, please open your eyes. Please wake up." He ran his hands gently along her bones, feeling for breaks. Her eyes fluttered open. "Oh, thank God," he gasped.

  Her eyes were unfocused. She groaned.

  "Where do you hurt? What pains you?"

  She took so long to answer that he grew worried she was incoherent, but then she grunted, "My head."

  "Your head. All right. What else?"

  "Everything," she said with a weak smile and then closed her eyes again.

  "Celia?" he cried in alarm.

  She did not answer.

  He picked her up gingerly and walked slowly and carefully back toward the road. Lucia caught sight of him and ran toward him.

  "She's alive!" he called out before she reached him, because he could see the utter panic on Lucia's face. "But not conscious. I believe she hit her head." Despite his own anguish and fears, he put on a capable, confident face for Lucia. He sat down by the side of the road, cradling Celia in his arms, rocking her gently as if she were a baby. "We will wait here for help. When it comes, we'll go back to the inn where we stayed last night." He attempted to impart a sense of calm he did not feel.

  Lucia twisted her fingers, looking frightened and helpless.

  "Will you help me by very carefully examining her limbs?" He wanted to give her a task to keep her mind busy. "I didn't see any breaks, but we need to be sure."

  Lucia carefully examined her sister, and Celia opened her eyes.

  "How's the baby?" she croaked.

  Lucia gave a strangled laugh. "All right. I'm unhurt."

  Celia rolled her eyes up to his face, and he gave her the same confident calm. "You're going to be fine, Celia. We'll get you back to the inn where you can rest, all right?"

  She stared up at him without answering.

  "I'm sorry I didn't protect you better," he choked. He couldn't help it; it was the thought that was foremost in his mind.

  "You saved the baby." She patted his arm, and his eyes filled with tears. "I saw. You did the right thing." She closed her eyes again. "And I'm going to be fine, remember?" She didn't open her lids.

  He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids. He didn't care that Lucia sat beside him, watching the whole thing. He was so relieved she was alive, and at the same time, he still feared for her, especially because she had closed her eyes and slipped away again.

  "Sweet Celia," he murmured. "I'm so sorry for everything."

  The driver took Tomi's horse to ride back to the inn for help. A wagon came along shortly, and he and Lucia climbed in and settled on the back, carefully cradling
Celia's body between their two forms to protect her as much as they could from the jostling. Settled back at the inn, he sent for a doctor and insisted Lucia eat while he stayed at Celia's side, murmuring softly to her, whether she was awake or not. The doctor came and examined the bump on Celia's head, and he ordered bedrest.

  Evening came quickly, and when a loud knock came at the door, he and Lucia both jumped. He went to the door and opened it a small crack, then threw it wide, staring into the intense gaze of his employer.

  "My lord!" he said with surprise, standing back so the count could enter the room.

  "Marco!" Lucia cried, running to him.

  The count kissed her with a look of relief and then peered at Celia, unconscious on the bed. "So it was Celia," he said. "I came upon my broken carriage and team in the road," he said shakily. "The driver said there was an injury." He drew Lucia to him, protectively. "What in God's name?" He walked to the side of the bed to inspect Celia. When he reached out and brushed her face with concern, Tomi had to take deep breaths to keep from telling him not to touch her.

  "She hit her head when she was thrown from the carriage. She has been lucid a few times since the accident," he said tightly.

  "Tomi protected me when it happened because he knows about the baby," Lucia piped up.

  The count held up his hand and opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but Tomi cut in, "It's quite a long story, my lord, and I beg your patience so I may explain it fully."

  The man nodded and sat on the bed with an arm around Lucia. Tomi took a chair, facing him. He explained about the messenger, and Celia's desire to let him know about the better pricing. How when he refused to send a messenger, she and Lucia took the carriage without telling anyone. How he'd caught up to them the night before on horseback. The count looked at Lucia with subtle condemnation, and she squirmed under his gaze. His own discomfort came when he got to explaining the punishment.

  "I punished Celia." He swallowed. "And then my plan was to have Celia punish Lucia, since you'd instructed me not to touch her."

  The count raised his eyebrows but said nothing. "Please forgive me, I did not know she was pregnant."

  "So Lucia was not punished?" he asked silkily, his eyes swiveling to his wife.

  She flushed to the tops of her ears. "Not much," she answered. "Celia was very upset about it, and she finally told Tomi, who sent me to bed and spanked Celia a second time for taking me along, pregnant."

  Tomi felt his own face get hot, hearing his actions recounted.

  "And then today, you were headed back to the villa and had the accident with the carriage."

  Tomi and Lucia both nodded.

  "What's your opinion about Celia?" the count asked him.

  He took a deep breath. He glanced at Lucia, not wanting to upset her. "I'm worried," he admitted finally. "I haven't found any broken bones, but her eyes look wrong when she's awake. The black part is bigger in one eye than the other."

  The two men looked at each other, and he saw his concern mirrored in the older man's face. The count shook his head. "She'll be all right," he said forcefully, as if by sheer will he would make it so. Tomi nodded his agreement. The count got up from the chair and started pacing. "Tomi," he said, frowning. "You have told me you wish to court Celia and yet, things continue this way." He waved his hand around the room, as if it were a product of his not courting Celia properly. He stared at his employer in amazement, trying to understand how this could possibly be his fault.

  "I cannot understand why you have not taken the woman in hand? She's only acting out because she's unsure of your affection for her. Don't you know you can't lead a woman on and then leave her hanging with no assurances, Tomi? You must claim her as your own to calm her fears."

  He did not answer. He had no perspective on his convoluted relationship with Celia. To hear the count believed her bad behavior was a result of her insecurities about him came as a surprise.

  "Is this still about your jealousy over me?" he demanded, but didn't give him a chance to answer. The count rubbed his face again and stopped, squaring off at him. "Ultimately, Tomi, if you can't accept Celia for who she is and what she's done, then you don't deserve her."

  Tomi absorbed that with a stab of guilt.

  "Do you wish to marry her or don't you?"

  "I do wish to make her my wife." He felt clearer about it all than he ever had.

  "Good." The count sounded as if the subject had been satisfactorily concluded. "Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving us for a bit, I have some things I need to discuss privately with my wife." He looked meaningfully at Lucia, who wrung her hands.

  * * *

  Lucia got up and stood before her husband, pulling at her hands anxiously. After a year of marriage, she was no longer afraid of him, feeling confident his love for her was secure even when he disciplined her. Even so, in the face of punishment, her knees went weak, and her belly somersaulted.

  Marco looked at her, more thoughtfully than angrily. Then he sat in the chair and beckoned her to him. He pulled her onto his lap and looked up at her.

  "I couldn't let her go alone." She used her most imploring tone.

  "You could have. Perhaps, she would not have gone if you'd refused. Or perhaps, you could have changed her mind."

  She chewed her lip and shook her head. "I know her better than anyone, Marco. She would have gone alone. I had to go with her."

  He shook his head. "You didn't have to."

  "And let her go alone?" she asked, her voice rising with indignation.

  Fortunately, the count was more amused than annoyed by it. The corner of his mouth lifted just a bit. "Can you not think of any other option?"

  "No!" she exclaimed emphatically.

  "No?"

  She stared at him, not sure what he wanted her to say.

  "You could have informed Tomi so he stopped her."

  She stared at him. Betraying her own sister had never been an option. She shook her head slowly. "I couldn't have."

  "Why not? It would have kept her safe. It would have kept you safe. And it would've kept me from punishing you."

  She chewed on her lip some more. "You're asking me to betray my own sister."

  He shrugged. "Betray is a harsh word. I'm asking you to make choices that will keep you both safe, especially considering your pregnancy."

  "You're making me choose between my sister or you."

  "Don't be so dramatic. I am asking you to make better choices for the safety of my family, which includes my unborn child and your sister. I don't think that's too much to demand of you."

  Her shoulders sagged. He was right. She hadn't thought of trying to prevent Celia from leaving. She had just followed along on her twin's escapade, as she always did. She had expected punishment, but had been resolved that she'd acted in the only manner she could have, under the circumstances. Now she felt genuine regret. "I'm sorry, Marco. You're right."

  Marco pushed her to stand and unfastened his belt buckle. She drew in her breath, and her belly dropped, involuntarily. He folded her across his lap and peeled up her skirts, baring her bottom. He ran his hand over it with a caress and she relaxed a little, parting her legs, even as her mind prepared for the inevitable spanking.

  He spanked her with his hand first, flattening her cheeks with his big palm, smacking first right, then left, then middle, and then the backs of her legs, which made her yelp. There was a pause, and she held her breath, listening. She heard the whisper of the leather belt as he doubled it and then brought it cracking down on her backside.

  He went easy on her. He spanked for a while, but he did not strike so very hard. Like Tomi and Celia, she imagined he was afraid of harming the baby, though she knew perfectly well a sore bottom wasn't going to do any harm. Still, she was grateful for the reprieve. He continued until her bottom burned, but didn't feel bruised. Then he rubbed his hand over her heated flesh.

  "You know what I like to do with pretty red bottoms like this?" She heard the purr of sexual int
erest in his voice.

  "What?"

  He pulled her up to stand and stood himself, then bent her over so her hands rested on the seat of the chair. "Let me show you," he said in a husky voice.

  "Marco," she protested. "What if Tomi comes back?"

  "It's this or another round with my belt, which do you prefer?"

  "This!" she squeaked.

  He laughed. "I thought so."

  He rubbed his fingers between her legs. She was already moist, as often happened when he spanked her. She wriggled with pleasure and pushed her hips back at him. He chuckled, and she heard the rustle of his pants as he lowered them just enough to release his length. He pushed his sex against hers, and she groaned, eager to take him into her. "Good girl," he murmured and entered her slowly, drawing himself all the way back out before he entered again. She sucked in her breath. He continued that way for a while, long slow strokes that wound her need up tighter and tighter until she heard herself saying, "Please?"

  Marco chuckled again and grasped her hips firmly, moving in her with more force and speed.

  "Oh, yesss…" she panted.

  He moved her hips to rub up and down in addition to his thrusting in and out, which stimulated that feminine pearl of pleasure for her.

  She gave a cry of need.

  They climaxed together, her keening cry drowned out by his loud groan.

  He pulled out and spanked her several more times, hard.

  It hurt so much more after her climax. She stayed in position, waiting for permission to get up, listening as he pulled his trousers back up and slid his belt back into place.

  "Thank you," she panted.

  Marco pulled her to standing and backed her up against the bed, pushing her to sit, then sweeping her legs up over her head to expose her bottom to his view again. "You're a good wife to thank me for spanking you." He inspected her still-burning cheeks. "This is a nice position, isn't it?" He slapped her vulnerable bottom several more times, hard, and laughed as she tried to jerk her hips away and dodge his hand. "If you ever take a risk like that again," he said, punctuating each word with a sharp spank, "I will spank you to tears." In this position, he could look at her as he spanked, and he did so now, raising his eyebrows. "Capiche?"