by Laura Clarke
“I’ve been setting it up, and she is more than ready for me,” Andrew said.
Parker laughed. “Kisses and breasts, and that makes you think you’ve set the stage?”
“There is a letter,” Andrew said. “I hired a whore to write it for me. If you want the truth I was surprised to find one who could write so prettily. She penned my letter, and then she sucked my cock. It was a most pleasant experience, really.”
“Whom did you send the letter to?” Parker asked.
“To the duke, of course, who, if I hear right, passed it on to his son.”
Parker snorted. “Whom did you hear it from? I’m taking a big risk letting you have more time on the money you owe me. I need to make sure you are telling me the truth.”
“I have a confederate in the house, a maid that does Penelope’s hair,” he said. “She also lets me stick my cock in her ass. I don’t even have to give her money to help me. I just bend her over and give her what she wants. The whore bucks her hips and begs for more, deeper, deeper, deeper.”
The last words were said in a falsetto.
Penelope’s tears flowed freely now. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about Clara. That was the only maid that did Penelope’s hair, and helped her to dress.
“So, you’ll fuck the girl tonight?” Parker asked. “How long will it take you to get your hands on her money?”
“Next week, I promise,” Andrew said. “But I won’t get her tonight, I’m sure. I will make sure to do it tomorrow. And you will get your funds.”
“If I don’t, you will lose your cock, and the young lady won’t be feeding you any more information because you won’t have anything to use to give her what she wants.”
“I understand,” Andrew said. “May I go down and play at the tables?”
“Do you have money?”
“No,” Andrew said. “But I do have that nice statue of Venus that you want. May I use that as collateral tonight?”
“Two hundred pounds,” Parker said. “My men will pick it up tomorrow, and you had better be there to make sure it makes it into their hands.”
“Of course,” Andrew said.
“I’ve heard that before,” Parker said. “Now get out. I’ll call a clerk to give you the proper funds.”
Penelope turned and buried her head in Emmett’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she melted against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she thought that he actually meant it.
Parker came around the curtain. He was younger than Penelope had expected. There was part of her that wanted to believe that he and Emmett had set the whole thing up, but that had been Andrew’s voice, and he had been frightened.
“I hope you heard what you needed,” Parker said. “It’s never easy hearing the truth.”
No, it wasn’t, Penelope thought. She kept her face buried in Emmett’s chest, so she didn’t have to face the gambling hall owner. Then she decided that was taking the chicken way out and she turned her tear-stained face to him.
“Thank you, sir, for helping me to discover the truth,” she said.
“At least you did it before you married him,” he said. “They say they’ll quit, but they never do.”
“Lord Emmett, good day to you and your ward.”
When he was gone, Penelope took a step away from Emmett. “I’m going downstairs and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”
“No.” Emmett stepped in front of her as she started to walk toward the door. “I honestly think he and Mary are together in the theft of the books. The jewelry I don’t care about, but the books I do. I’m going to have to ask you to do something that is very—well, let’s just say that no proper guardian would ask this of his ward.”
“I’m listening,” Penelope said. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.
“Keep seeing him,” Emmett said. “Let him think you’re in love with him. Question him very carefully.”
“You just heard him say he wanted to take me to bed,” Penelope said.
“I won’t allow it to happen.” Emmett gently stroked her cheek. “I promise you I will protect you from him.
“I don’t know how to hide my anger,” she said. “I’m afraid I will explode the moment I see him.”
“Put me in his place,” he said.
“I’m not sure I like you sometimes,” she said with a laugh.
“Really? Then let’s try this.” He took her face in his hands, much like Andrew had done earlier in the night, and he kissed her.
His tongue played at the edges of her mouth and she moaned softly. Emmett’s lips were much tastier than Andrew’s. He put his arms around her and held her close. Her breasts pressed against his chest. She savored the feel of it, the warmth of him, the masculine smell.
“There is just one problem with this,” he said. “Clara needs to believe you still hate me.”
“Then we can’t do this,” she said, lifting up on her toes and kissing him again.
“Well, we can put on a performance,” he said. “When you’re a bad girl you get punished.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” she said.
“Well, she will believe you’re being punished, and harshly.” He stroked her cheek. “Tell me, Penelope, have you ever been birched?”
Chapter 5
Penelope stormed into the house, praying the staff believed her pretend anger. She and Emmett had taken two turns around the park in the carriage while they worked out their plan, a plan she thought was over the top until he’d told her about why the family was really concerned about the books.
“They were on loan to Chester, who studied them for the royal family,” Emmett said.
“You told me they belonged to you, that they’d been in your family for generations,” she’d said.
“They’ve been with Chester for years,” Emmett had said. “Father had been hounding him to return them, but Chester had said he was not finished.” He’d then cleared his throat. “What is going to happen is someone representing the royal family will come to collect them and they will be gone. There is no telling what will happen then. We have to find those books.”
Penelope had been shocked. She remembered seeing Chester with the books, reading them and taking notes.
“Where are the notes, the ones he made on the books?”
“Missing,” Emmett had said. “He was going to write a treatise on them, about who had written them and what they meant. We have to flush them out.”
It all made sense when she thought about it that way. A spanking was not enough to send Clara running to tell all to Andrew. The birching was the right thing.
“I will strike the desk.” His pronouncement had shocked her.
“She dresses me,” Penelope said. “She will see that my behind is not marked. You will have to strike my bottom a few times.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Oh, how she remembered those words.
“I’m a big girl,” she had said. “I’ve been spanked before, and I was birched once when I was a teen-ager, for staying after hours at the British Museum with a friend. Father was very unhappy with me because the Peelers brought me home. Chester was angry that Father birched me, and they quarreled. But he gave me ten hard smacks. I still remember the pain.”
“Then we must think of another plan,” Emmett had said.
“No, this one is the best.” She had touched his hand. “You may not believe it, but this will shock the staff, and I do believe it will send Clara running to Andrew. Then, she will help me set up a meeting with him.”
“You must not allow him inside you,” he’d said.
“Are you saying that as my guardian, or out of actual concern for me?”
“Both,” he’d said.
Now, as she stood in the hallway, empty and dark except for the sconces that were lit for their arrival, she took a deep breath.
The stage was set, and it was time for the play to begin.
“Get out of my house!” she screame
d. “I’ve never been so angry, or humiliated in my entire life.”
“This is my house, if you remember correctly.” He gave her a look that equaled hers in anger. “My family owns it, down to the last nail in the wood. You are staying here only because I want to follow Chester’s wishes. You could say you are living here because of my good graces.”
“Good graces? Was it in your good graces to humiliate me? To make me a laughing stock?”
She heard someone on the stairs, so she knew they had attracted someone’s attention. Was it Clara, or some other member of the staff? She wanted to turn and see, but she knew it was best to stick to the plan. To that effect she watched him pull a letter from his pocket. It wasn’t “the letter,” but it was a missive that had been in his jacket when he’d gone to the Avondale party.
“What is this?” She pushed it back at him.
“Read it, and you tell me.”
She’d already read the letter, but she unfolded the paper and made as if to read each word. She let her eyes widen with each word, in case someone was close by and could see. She needed her reaction to be real.
“Is it true? Have you allowed him use of your body?”
“No.” She said the word softly.
“Are you lying to me? I need to know, because if I promise a future husband you are untouched, and he finds out otherwise, then things will truly turn ugly, won’t they?”
“I am a virgin.”
“So you’ve said.” The tone of his voice made her shiver. Thank goodness it was only an act. “I hope you’re not lying to me. I cannot believe you would disrespect my uncle in this way.”
She needed to act as if the wind had gone out of her sails after reading the letter, as if she’d been defeated. But she also needed to continue to put up a fight.
“Disrespect him? Mary and I…”
“Do not bring Mary into this,” he said. “We are discussing your behavior.”
“Perhaps my judgment wasn’t the best, but as Mary said, Chester was not a relative. I loved him, yes, but…”
“He was as good as a father to you. He gave you food and clothing and a place to live. And I have done the same. And how do you repay us?”
“You? I hardly know you. The only reason you have not kicked me out of this house is that you’re afraid it would make you look bad. Admit it.”
“I didn’t think I had to ‘deal’ with you. I thought you were a proper young woman who could carry herself as society deemed fit. It appears I was wrong.” He took off his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves. She narrowed her gaze at him. This was it, the actual birching was getting closer. She heard more footsteps on the stairs, and on the first floor. They were definitely attracting attention, which was what they’d planned.
“Then I release you from your obligation to me. I can care for myself.”
“Can you? Tell me, when you say you have money, how much do you have? Truthfully.”
“Almost three thousand pounds.” She drew herself up and sneered at him. That was not true. She had nowhere near that amount stashed away. But Andrew knew she would gain quite a bit from Chester’s will, and that’s what he was after.
“Humph, and how long do you think that will last? A month? Two? You’ll be working in the brothels when that’s gone.”
“You rake! Get out!” She stomped her foot and pointed toward the door.
“We’ve been down this path before, I believe. This is my home, and you are my ward. My responsibility. I have been lax, it seems, in your care. But tonight, I will not be. Mr. Boston! I know you and others are listening. Get in here, now.” The butler came in and bowed. “There is a spanking chair in the attic. Dust it off and put it in the library. There should also be a birching rod. Put it on the desk.”
Penelope wanted to tell him it was a nice touch, to call Albert by his last name. Instead she gasped, as if she were shocked at this turn of events.
“As you demand, Lord Emmett.” The butler bowed and left, and Penelope felt the color drain from her face. “You—you can’t mean to—I won’t allow it.”
She could barely string two words together, and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. This was all too real. The plan was for ten cuts at the end of the pretend birching, on her bare bottom, so she had evidence to show Clara. It had been easy to say yes earlier, but now she was truly frightened.
“I do mean to.” Emmett put his hands on his hips. “And it matters not to me whether you allow it, or not. You are my ward to do with as I please. A good birching will remind you of your duty to my late uncle, and it will remind you how to behave.”
Candles were being lit all over the house now. Penelope looked toward the stairs. Clara stood there, still in her uniform since she had to take care of her mistress when she returned home after a night out. There was a look of pure horror on her face.
Two houseboys carried the chair down the stairs. The legs were shaped like an upside-down C, supporting the top, which was shaped like an L. She would be made to straddle the chair leaning over and grasping the upper portion of the L to steady herself. The chair was tall enough to put her bottom at perfect range for a spanking. Her father had employed such a chair when she was punished as a child. She would be cradled in the L while Emmett pretended to apply the rod, and all its angry little branches, to her backside.
She was so distracted by the thought that she almost forgot her lines. And then, when Emmett cocked his head and glared at her she remembered.
“You’re punishing me for going to a party?”
“I’m punishing you for disrespecting my uncle. I’m punishing you for being free with a man, unchaperoned, and I’m punishing you for telling me to go to the devil. As my ward, you answer to me, and you know it.”
“Lord Emmett, go to the devil.”
He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the library. Not one staff member said a word, or made a move to stop him. She knew they wouldn’t because it would put their place in the household in jeopardy.
Once they were in the library he slammed the door behind them. Their gazes locked, and he nodded. She knew he was telling her it was working. “Straddle the chair.”
“No.” Panic set in. She reminded herself this wasn’t real. Well, until the end.
“Do as I say.”
“Please, I’m sorry, I’ll behave in the future.”
“It is a little late for that.” He took the birch rod from where the butler had left it on the desk. It had been a while since she’d seen one, and now, as she stared at the tight gathering of tree branches, her stomach dropped and her mouth went dry.
“I’m frightened,” she mouthed.
“Trust me,” he whispered. “I will take great care with you.”
Out loud he said, “Straddle the chair.”
“No.” She backed away from him. Then she realized how stupid that was. She stood next to the chair and waited for him to take the lead.
“In the eyes of society, you are Bixley’s mistress. I will have a great deal of trouble finding you a husband. Now, you will straddle the chair, this punishment will remind you to behave yourself. Perhaps if you do I will find a man to marry you.”
He slammed the birch rod down on the desk and Penelope cried out.
“Stay still or I will bind you to the chair.” He slapped it down again. Penelope cried out once more, and jerked at the sound. She could almost feel the pain.
He slapped it down again, and again. Penelope played her part and screamed as if he were whipping her.
“Hold still!” he commanded as he slapped the rod against the desk.
“Or what?” She didn’t have to try to put fear in her voice because it was shaking. “Will you expel me from the house if I don’t obey? Do it and I will go to Andrew. At least he loves me!”
“You will obey!” The rod hit the table repeatedly. Penelope worried that the strength of the strikes would scar the desk, and the maids who cleaned in here would know it had all been an act.
&
nbsp; “I will have you bound to the chair for the duration, and the whipping will be much harder, I promise you. It’s your choice.”
“Get on the chair,” he mouthed.
She moved slowly, stopping in front of the chair and placing her legs on either side of the chair. She grasped the upper part of the L, her arms stretched above her head. Emmett stepped beside her. He gathered her skirts and tucked them around her waist. Panic welled inside her. She wore no underclothes, so her bottom was now bare. She would take her whipping, though. She would not run. She needed to do this to get to the bottom of this mess.
He slammed the rod down on the desk. Then, there was a pause, and she knew things were about to take a turn.
She heard the first strike before she felt it, heard the rod flying through the air. It landed smartly on her backside and she bit back a cry of pain. The second and third ones landed right on top of the first.
On the fourth one, she cried out. Emmett ignored her, though, and delivered two more hard fast strokes.
“Are you lying to me? Has he had you?”
“No.”
“Were you going to let him?”
“Yes! He wants to marry me!” She cried out again as three more strokes landed. She felt him move away from her, and she wondered what he was thinking. He was definitely not being easy on her. That was good, though, because it would convince Clara that the spanking had been totally real.
The room grew silent, and her backside, which she was sure had raised red welts on it, was on full display.
“Are you finished? Have you decided you’ve done enough work as my guardian tonight?”
His boots clicked on the wood floor. “You are impossible,” he said. He opened the door to the room and she heard the rustle of feet. It was obvious the staff had been standing at the door, listening.
“Clara!”
“Milord?” Clara’s voice shook. “Take your mistress up to her room and tend to her bottom. Boston, make sure there are new locks on her doors. I want her secured in her rooms whenever I desire.”