Mail-Order Grooms: The Complete Boxed Set

by Amelia Smarts

  He leaned back and drew another puff from his pipe. “Spoken like a woman who is wise beyond her years,” he said with a small smile. “But you must know that a wolf generally eats the lamb, so I’m not sure your example is entirely relevant in this instance.”

  “It’s relevant,” she insisted. “Just not literal.”

  “You think so? Then tell me, do you believe me to be the wolf or the lamb, Betsy?” His question was spoken lightheartedly with humor, which lifted Betsy’s spirits and gave her hope that he would forgive her. She wanted to make him laugh.

  “That depends, Roderick. Are you inclined to bleat?”

  His eyes widened before he threw back his head and, much to her pleasure, guffawed heartily. He did not stop laughing for some time, and when he finally did, he wiped tears from his eyes and said, “I rather think it will be you who does the bleating.”

  “Oh?”

  He uncrossed his legs, leaned forward, and stared into her eyes, his gaze now sober. “What I feel inclined to do, Betsy, is to take you over my knee and teach you a painful lesson about honesty. That way, you will know in no uncertain terms my expectation of honesty from you in the future. What say you now?”

  She swallowed and studied his dark eyes, which glimmered with intensity that was no longer laced with humor. When she found her voice, she said softly, “I say you are most definitely the wolf, Roderick.”

  He nodded, holding her gaze. He then straightened and patted his leg. “Come on then, little lamb, and take what you have coming.”

  His firm words reverberated in her ears and her belly flopped when she looked at his bent knee. Come on then, little lamb, and take what you have coming. Her heart started to race. She could hardly believe that this was how he intended to rectify matters. Going through the humiliating motion of standing and presenting herself for a spanking seemed impossible. “I… I’m not sure I can.”

  The expression on Roderick’s face was implacable. “You can, Betsy. And, more importantly, you will. I can see you feel guilty about what you’ve done. This will be a way for you to feel absolved.”

  “But can’t my apology be enough?” she whined.

  “It cannot, my dear,” he replied. “Deceit doesn’t become you and I never want to experience it from you again, which is why I must ensure you realize there will be consequences if it does happen."

  She stared at his hands, which she only just noticed were quite large, and then looked into his eyes. He did not look angry in the least, but he looked very determined. It was hard for her to understand how a man such as this would resort to a physical act of discipline. He seemed too refined for it, somehow. She could imagine an angry cowboy hauling a woman over his lap, but a spanking from the calm, courtly Mr. Roderick Mason didn’t make sense.

  “I thought… I thought you were sophisticated,” she said. “I would not have guessed you’d choose to spank me for punishment.”

  “Guess again, darling. I’m a man with expectations, an older one at that, and I appreciate your youthful pluck and exuberance, but I also recognize that your behavior could easily get out of control if I do not address it. Be assured that I will not embarrass you unnecessarily by splitting open your drawers at this point and punishing your bare bottom, but it will still be a thorough chastisement.”

  The thought of one of his large hands touching her bare bottom caused her breath to catch in her throat and her thighs to clench together. Though embarrassed, she was nearly convinced it would be right to obey him and accept discipline. She didn’t relish experiencing the humiliation of a spanking, but she did feel somewhat flattered that he wanted to protect her, if only from herself.

  She hesitated for too long. Roderick spoke again, more firmly. “I do not intend to be very harsh with you, Betsy, unless you continue to delay. In that case, I will be forced to teach you a lesson about dawdling in addition to honesty. Come now. Last chance for you to lay yourself across my lap of your own accord.”

  Spurred into action by his words, Betsy stood and moved directly between his spread knees. Awkwardly she knelt down and bent over his leg. His palm pressed gently against her back, pushing her forward slightly to position her bottom higher in the air. The satin of her skirts whispered of their movement as Roderick lifted and placed them over her back. She imagined what he must be seeing—her new white drawers which thinly covered the slopes of her buttocks. He lifted her legs to be positioned over both of his. His hand slid over her bottom and down to her upper thighs where it rested. “My, you are lovely,” he said, seemingly more to himself than to her.

  Despite her current predicament, his comment made her feel happy. She was glad he found the back side of her body lovely and longed for him to caress her.

  “All right, darling, let’s go over why you’re about to be disciplined.”

  She groaned and clenched her thighs together, feeling beyond embarrassed and also oddly excited. “Must we?” She was keenly aware of his hand on her thigh, and she’d never felt a man’s hand so intimately on her person. Her belly quivered with anticipation.

  “I’m afraid we must. There’s no use being spanked if you do not think of the reasons for it during the discomfort. The point of punishment is to modify how you behave going forward.”

  She couldn’t help herself. In a fit of rebellion, she kicked up a leg and grunted, to which Roderick responded with a smart slap across her bottom. “I expect you to have a respectful attitude and take what I’m saying seriously, young lady.”

  “I’m sorry,” she squeaked, surprised at how much force he’d put into a single spank. “It’s just I’m rather embarrassed about all this.”

  Roderick rubbed her bottom where he’d just spanked it, causing a tingling between her legs. “A little embarrassment is to be expected, but it’s no excuse for misbehavior, just like there’s no excuse for lying about your age, is there?”

  She felt chastened and shook her head, mumbling to herself.

  He didn’t find the mumbling acceptable. He leaned forward. “What was that? Speak your answer clearly.”

  “No, there’s no excuse,” she said mournfully.

  “And do you think you deserve this punishment, little lamb?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Very well. You will be punished for the lie and then it will be forgotten. We will carry on with our courtship.”

  Before she could rejoice over that bit of news, his hand fell, briskly and without pause, over and over. The slaps on her tender bottom echoed in the room. The sharpness of each swat caused her to wince, and before long the heat on her backside built to an uncomfortable level. When she didn’t think she could bear it anymore, she cried out for mercy.

  “Please, Roderick. I have learned my lesson.” She twisted against his grip around her waist, but he held her in place and kept spanking.

  “Now that the punishment is causing you pain, Betsy, it’s doing exactly as it’s supposed to do, which is act as a deterrent to future bad behavior,” he stated, filling the gaps between his words with hard swats to make his point.

  She fell into silence except for short gasps and whimpers when the sharp swats would cause an extreme burning on her posterior. She wanted to take her punishment as stoically as possible, to show Roderick that she was willing to endure such a thing because of her strong wish for him to court her, but it was difficult.

  “Will you be honest with me in the future?” he asked, punctuating his question with a hard smack.

  “Yes, sir!” she cried out. “Please…”

  He spanked her a few more times. Finally his hand settled and soothed her aching globes in gentle circular caresses. “Have I made my point well enough?”

  “You have,” she said with a little whimper. He continued to caress her until her bottom only stung slightly. Soon the sting disappeared entirely, replaced by a warmth that spread throughout her body.

  “You’re a good girl,” he said. “Though from the moment I met you, I knew you would be a challenge.�
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  “You did?”

  “Mm hmm. When you met me on the platform and conveyed that writing an advertisement for a husband was a scheme kept secret from your parents, I felt compelled to turn you over my knee right then and there. I’ve always liked the act of spanking a beautiful backside, but I’ve never felt like disciplining a woman.”

  She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I suppose I’m special, then?”

  He grinned. “I’ll say.” He guided her to sit on his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Now, darling, I want you to be honest with me, and I promise to be honest with you. I will start by telling you something from the heart that is the complete truth.”

  Betsy had never felt so many nervous, romantic feelings before. Intermixed with the aftereffects of discipline, she felt disarmed and vulnerable in his arms.

  “What do you want to tell me?” she asked softly.

  “Back home, I courted many women but would lose interest. It never felt real. It felt like each one was playing a sort of game to try to woo me, and I didn’t have patience for it. They never surprised me. It was all as expected.”

  “But I surprise you?” she asked hopefully.

  “Very much so. You surprise me with your courage and candor, and you also worry me a bit. For instance, I’m very glad you came to see me today, but you disobeyed Mr. Harrington, and that shows me you have little regard for rules that are in place for your safety.”

  “He’s too strict. Even my father thinks so.”

  Roderick nodded. “I can relate with your rebellion, as I too find many societal mores restrictive and unnecessary, but there are certain rules that must be adhered to. The important thing is to know when it’s acceptable to break a rule and when it’s not.”

  She nodded. “I understand, Roderick, and I’ll follow the rules from now on if you want me to.”

  “Good, darling. I think that’s wise, and I want to help with that. I would feel honored to be the one to protect and take care of you. Will you let me do that?”

  She nodded, feeling flattered that the handsome man holding her seemed to think she was something special, not merely a plain country girl, which was how she normally felt. She hoped he wouldn’t change his mind about that, but even as she sat there on his lap, feeling cherished by her new beau, she worried that he would soon discover she wasn’t really all that interesting at all.

  Chapter Five

  For the next few days, Roderick experienced a chaste but thrilling courtship with Betsy—in public, as Mr. Harrington had insisted. Roderick adored everything about her. She wore her thoughts and feelings on her face, and he loved teasing and complimenting her to make her blush. The way she looked at him with utter awe and adoration when he talked about his job or the parties he used to attend caused a tugging in his heart that was almost painful. She was so unspoiled by the world, so very fragile and impressionable.

  Her beauty was unlike any other’s. To Roderick, she was a rarity, something to be cherished and kept safe. He couldn’t wait to marry her, but he’d already decided he would wait one month, a respectable amount of time, and then make her his. In the meantime, he felt content just spending time in her presence.

  When he heard about a barn dance taking place in town, he knew that would be an excellent date for them. Betsy had indicated in her advertisement that she wanted a man who could dance, and Roderick wasn’t a bad dancer. He wanted to fulfill her every desire.

  Many of the townsfolk attended the event, whether they liked to dance or not, including Adam and Susannah. Roderick danced with Betsy for most of the evening, loving the way her warm body pressed against his. Occasionally they would switch partners, just to be sociable, but when they returned to each other’s embrace, that was when Betsy’s smile would be a little brighter, her step a little lighter. He felt the same happiness and loved her sweet, innocent touch on his chest and graceful movement on the dance floor.

  When Florence Clark appeared toward the end of the evening and suggested he dance with her, he did so only out of neighborly obligation, nothing more. He didn’t want to appear like he was ignoring all others in town, especially if he planned to stay there for any length of time.

  While he danced with Florence, he spotted Betsy sitting on a bench against the wall, speaking with a man who stood next to her. Right away he could see from the way she was leaning away from him that she wasn’t interested in the conversation. He couldn't quite decipher the look on her face from the distance, but when his dance with Florence brought him closer, he read something in her wide eyes that alarmed him. Fear. Luckily the dance ended then, or else he would have had to make a scene of leaving it early. He bowed to Florence quickly and turned to go toward where he’d seen Betsy. However, in the split second he’d turned his gaze away from her to finish the dance, she’d left.

  A quick walk around told him she wasn’t anywhere inside, so he strode into the night. A blast of cold air hit him, in striking contrast to the stuffiness of the barn. Something didn’t seem right. He saw nothing right away because it was quite dark outside, so he waited for his eyes to adjust and strained his ears in an attempt to hear voices. Relief washed over him when he heard Betsy’s sweet drawl coming from the other side of the barn. He hustled in that direction. The sight that met him set his teeth on edge. Betsy stood flush against the barn wall, and the tall man he’d seen her talking with inside towered over her in an aggressive posture. Roderick once again saw the strange look of fear on Betsy’s face as he neared.

  “I’m sorry, Johnny, I really am,” she said softly, speaking in soothing tones, as though trying to talk a beast out of attacking. “But you’ve got to stop pursuing me. I have a beau and he won’t like knowing you’re following me.”

  The man responded with a contemptuous snarl. “Oh, yeah? Where’s your dandy beau now? Seems he left your side to be with another lady. I’d never do that to you.”

  “Leave me be. Please?” she begged, her voice cracking.

  “What is it about him, anyway. His money?” he asked, his voice rising in volume. “You know, I would have money too if you hadn’t gotten me fired. Cold-hearted bitch!”

  Roderick didn’t need to hear anything more. He’d never engaged in violence before, but never before had he witnessed a woman he cared about being threatened in such a manner. Without hardly thinking, he came upon them, grabbed the man’s arm enough to pivot him in his direction, and landed a hard punch to his face.

  The man screamed in outrage and stumbled back before landing on his ass. He clutched his face with both hands as blood escaped through his fingers. Roderick stared down at him with his hands clenched into fists, wanting him to get up so he could hit him again.

  “What the hell?” the man cursed. “You broke my nose! We were just talking.”

  “I didn’t like the conversation,” Roderick growled. “Get yourself gone from here, directly, before I decide to be even less cordial.”

  After the man scrambled off, the realization of what Roderick had done sunk in. He shook his hand, the pain from the punch now becoming noticeable to him. He worried that Betsy would be unhappy with him—it wasn’t exactly gentlemanly to punch a man—but when he turned to address her, she launched herself into his arms and clung to him tightly. “Thank you. I was so afraid! I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life as I was to see you.”

  A fresh wave of anger washed over Roderick upon hearing her trembling voice. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close while stroking her hair. After a moment, he took her arms and held her slightly away from him. “Who was that? What happened?”

  She let out a breath. “His name’s Johnny. He was a ranch hand at the Harringtons’ before Mr. Harrington fired him for threatening me. He got it into his head one day that he wanted to court me and hasn’t let up. He won’t take no for an answer.”

  “He threatened you?” Roderick asked, horrified.

  She shrugged. “Sort of. Some time ago he grabbed my arm and squeez
ed so hard it left a bruise. Mr. Harrington saw him do it and intervened.”

  “My God,” he replied, disturbed over the news and also regretful that he hadn’t hit the bastard again.

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Not for a month or more, but…” She looked down and fidgeted.

  “But what, honey?” Roderick prompted.

  “He’s been sending me notes for months now, leaving them on my pillow when no one is home and saying I’m the only girl for him. That kind of thing. And he moves my furniture. It’s strange.”

  Roderick scowled. “That’s more than strange. Why didn’t you tell me? This needs to be reported to the authorities.”

  She nodded. “Yes, you’re probably right. I worried that if I reported him, I’d make him even angrier. I thought he would forget about me after some time, but that’s not happening.”

  Roderick released her and ran a hand over his face. The news disturbed him unlike anything else he could remember. If the man hadn’t given up after months of stalking, he was most likely dangerous. The thought of him hurting Betsy, which seemed a very real possibility, caused Roderick’s blood to boil.

  Betsy sighed. “I think I might ask the Harringtons if they would mind leaving the barn dance and escorting me home now. I feel tired.”

  “Of course. I think that’s a good idea. I would walk you home myself, but we know Mr. Harrington is strict about us not being alone together.” He had a sudden realization. “Come to think of it, how did you end up outside alone with Johnny?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. The look she gave him was sheepish. “He approached me and asked if I would mind speaking with him in private. He said he wanted to apologize.”

  “So you willingly left with him?”

  She nodded. “It was foolish of me.”

  “It certainly was. He hurt you once before, and you put yourself in a position to get hurt again?”