We remain together, our bodies entwined inside the carriage as it travels onward. I am breathless, and suddenly soporific, enjoying the heat of Thomas’ body as I lay against his clothed chest. The touch of his hand at my hair brings me back to life. “That was glorious, my love,” he purrs.
I raise my head and smile at him. “Thank you for spanking me, My Lord,” I say, offering his organ another long clench.
His arms draw me forward, taking my head in his hands as his kisses me passionately. Our tongues dance sensually as our ardour begins to calm. Pulling away, he offers a wry smile. “You are welcome, my love,” he says. “You know I will always be here to deliver what you need.”
Thomas raises me gently from his lap. I gather my skirts, whilst he helps me to pull the bodice of my gown back over my torso. I resume my place at his side and watch as he fastens his breeches once more.
“We have a long journey, my love,” he says, embracing me with his left arm. “Why not rest a while?”
The idea sounds blissful, so I do not resist his suggestion. I lean my head against his shoulder, my eyes already closing as the warmth of his body and the motion of the journey lull me into a deep slumber.
Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Return to Cranningford
When I rouse the sun is already low in the sky. I feel Thomas at my right, and turning to see him, I smile, remembering our most recent coupling.
“Are you rested now, Lydia?” he asks, his voice low.
I nod as I reply, “Yes, Thomas, and thank you.”
His left palm squeezes my shoulder gently. “We will soon be at Cranningford,” he explains.
I cannot help the tension which automatically sweeps through my body, and I know he notices it. “Will you speak to Lord William?” I probe tentatively.
“Yes,” he replies firmly. “Although I am not decided about how and when I will do so. Let us see what opportunities present themselves.”
I nod, the anxiety gnawing at my belly.
“Try not to worry,” he says, laughing gently at my bleak expression. “You are safe, and remember that we are here to celebrate after all.”
I smile, acknowledging that he is right. “Of course,” I say. “I cannot wait to celebrate your first birthday as my husband.”
He winks at me, his expression salacious. “Oh, really?” he asks, his tone sardonic. “And what, I wonder, will my wife do to help me celebrate?”
I giggle, and the sound is unexpectedly nervous. “Anything her lord and master desires,” I answer.
Thomas shakes his head at me slowly. “You, My Lady,” he says, drawing himself against my side, “are incredibly naughty, and in line for another spanking.”
My heart skips a beat at his tone, and almost at once I feel the moisture pooling between my legs.
“Now, Thomas?” I ask, uncertain if I really want to know the answer.
He laughs. “No, not now,” he explains. “We are nearly arrived, and it would not do to arrive with my wife bared and over my knee.”
His tone is jovial, but for some absurd reason the idea he presents is as arousing as it is startling. He looks into my eyes, reading my expression. “But soon enough, I promise that your naughty rear will be warmed by my palm again…”
He nuzzles into my neck, and I smile at the prospect as we sit together, curled into an embrace. We watch Cranningford loom on the horizon, the sight growing larger as we near it.
As the house draws close, the sense of anxiety in me grows. Yet it is not until Lord William appears at the grand doorway that a wave of nausea suddenly overwhelms me. Thomas eyes me, offering me a quiet nod. As our eyes connect, they offer me enough reassurance to make my feet move from the carriage; I am with you, Lydia, they say, trust me. He drops to the gravel below, offering me his hand as I venture into the cold November air.
Lord William descends the steps, holding out his hand to greet his old friend. “Thomas!” he calls cheerily, “how lovely to see you again. How is married life suiting you?”
Thomas shakes his hand, before sweeping me into his left arm in a strong embrace. “It suits me very well,” he says, his smile delicious as both men turn to look upon me.
“Of course it does,” smiles Lord William, coming toward me. I resist the urge to move away, held fast by Thomas’ left arm at my waist. “Welcome back to Cranningford, Lady Markham.”
He takes my left hand in his own palm and grazes the back of my knuckles with his lips. I draw in a deep breath, averting my eyes from the scene playing out before me. “Thank you, My Lord,” I reply, drawing my hand away as fast as etiquette will permit.
My discomfort apparent, Thomas pulls me away. “May we come in out of the cold?” he asks, already moving toward the steps.
“Of course!” says Lord William. “I will have Mannington arrange your luggage when your footman arrives.”
We enter the lavish home to find Lady Helena waiting for us at the foot of the staircase. “Thomas!” she drawls. “Here is a sight I thought I might never see!”
She is upon us in seconds, sashaying her way to my husband and holding out her hand for him to kiss. He does so with a smile. “Helena, you look delightful, as always. Now, what is this sight which you see?”
She smiles, turning to address us both as she replies. “Thomas Markham, a married man!” she exclaims, “and it is you, My Lady, who has captured him. Bravo!”
I flush at her words, but manage a smile. Something about her excitement is infectious. “Good day, Lady Helena,” I say as means of reply.
“You are both most welcome,” she says, holding out her right arm to embrace her husband who has already come to join us. “It is an honour to be the first to host Lord and Lady Markham.”
“Indeed,” agrees Lord William. He pauses, and I feel the weight of his stare on me. “What a pleasure it is to see you both so happy.”
Unable to meet his eye, I turn to Thomas, feeling his hand tighten at my waist. “Thank you,” he says, looking Lord William directly in the eye. “We truly are.”
There is a moment of silence as we all absorb his words, and then he speaks again. “Is everything in place for tomorrow, Helena?”
She smiles, oozing eagerness as she replies. “Of course it is!” she squeals. “You know my parties are legendary, Thomas! And now we will be able to introduce your wonderful new wife to all of our friends!”
He smiles, pleased with her answer. “Lydia and I are most grateful for all of your efforts.”
The door is drawn open at that moment, and we all turn to see Lucy and Buckton arrive in the doorway. The sight of her draws a smile to my face, although all at once I also feel concern. Although I may now be safe with my new husband, what of poor Lucy? I must not allow her to be left to the whims of William Pembroke! I look instinctively to Thomas, hoping that he understands the look in my eyes.
“Shall we take a drink in the drawing room before supper?” asks Lord William.
Thomas takes a small step forward. “What a marvellous suggestion,” he answers. “But first, please allow us to change after our journey. Travelling can be something of a tiring challenge.”
He turns, those green orbs drilling into me as he concludes, and reflexively I feel my cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment.
“Indeed,” muses Lord William from my left. He looks from Thomas to me, perhaps deducing what may have transpired on the journey here, but thankfully does not press the subject. “Mannington!” he calls the butler, who has come to greet Buckton. “Please ensure Lord and Lady Markham’s cases are sent to their rooms at once.”
“Yes, My Lord,” says Mannington from behind me.
“Rooms?” enquires Thomas, with a cocked brow.
Lord William laughs, the sound echoing around the large hallway. “We thought you might need the additional space, old chap,” he chortles by means of explanation.
Thomas eyes him, fighting the urge to smile. “Hmmm,” he replies. “Thank you, but
Lydia and I will be sharing my old rooms during our stay.”
Nothing further is said on the subject, and I am glad of it. I do not wish my private life to become the subject of general conversation, and given the friction between Lord William and me, the whole topic makes me uncomfortable. I move away from Lord Pembroke to Thomas’ right side, and wait for him. Together, we ascend the staircase, walking hand in hand in the direction of the rooms which we had taken on our previous visit. We find ourselves in the long corridor, approaching the two doorways at either side of its end. Thomas opens the handle of the left door—the one in which he had previously spanked me with his crop—and gestures for me to enter.
The room is exactly as I recall it; a mirror image of the one I had stayed in across the corridor. The linen is fresh, the bed dressed in an extraordinarily luxurious silk cover, and a glass vase of beautiful flowers greets us on the dresser.
I walk toward the edge of the bed, turning to face Thomas.
“What is it, my love?” he asks, prompting me to speak the issue which burns at my tongue.
“It is Lucy,” I admit, pleased to be able to divulge it. “Last time we were here the staff downstairs disclosed to her that Lord William likes to make advances to the maids. I am concerned that he may force himself upon her.”
“What a gentleman does with his own staff, Lydia, is his own business,” he says, and I stiffen at his tone, which sounds almost admonishing. “But I do not want Lucy to feel uncomfortable. She is here to serve you, and has the right to be secure. I shall ask Buckton to watch over her during our stay.”
I nod, biting my lip. “Thank you,” I reply, holding on to the edge of the bed as our bags arrive.
Thomas takes Buckton outside into the corridor, presumably to discuss the matter of Lucy’s safety. In turn, my maid joins me in the bedroom, hastily unpacking my gowns and other possessions.
“How are you, Lucy?” I ask, watching her as she works.
She turns to meet my eye as she replies. “I am well, thank you, My Lady. Although I must admit that being here again does make me rather nervous.”
I nod in agreement as I approach her. “I know,” I say, trying to soothe her. “His Lordship is right this moment asking Mr. Buckton to look out for you during the duration of our stay.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, the relief evident in her young eyes.
“I do so appreciate you, Lucy,” I say softly. “You have been such a support since I arrived at Markham Hall.”
“You are the Lady of Markham now,” she answers with a beaming smile. “And I am proud to serve you.”
I squeeze her hand gently, before moving away to allow her to continue her work. After a moment she turns again, beckoning to me with her hand. “Oh, My Lady,” she says urgently. “I purchased the item which you asked for, and it is wrapped and ready.”
I smile. “Excellent, thank you again,” I reply. “Can you leave the item somewhere for me to find tomorrow?” I turn, assessing the room behind me. “Perhaps in the dresser by the side of my bed?”
She spins to see the small piece of furniture to which I refer, and nods her head cordially. “I will do so once you are at supper, My Lady,” she says, smiling.
By the time Thomas returns, Lucy has my outfit for the evening prepared, and I excuse her with Buckton to make their way downstairs. Thomas has taken to helping me dress since our wedding, and I am pleased for the time alone with him again before our supper with the Pembrokes. I pull the chosen silver gown over my body, and turn to find my devilishly handsome husband eyeing me carnally.
“Can you please fasten my gown, My Lord?” I ask demurely, my heart pounding with the combined lust and anxiety which rages inside of me.
He advances toward me, his pace full of predatory intent. “Well, of course, My Lady,” he replies, his hot breath nuzzling into the back of my neck.
Securing the dress, he snakes his arms across the front of my body as he speaks. “I would like for you to relax and enjoy this evening,” he says evenly.
I twist my neck to the left to see his face. I can see his expression is serious and yet I can barely believe his words. Relax? How can I relax when we are here at Cranningford, and he is yet to even address the issue with Lord William?
“I think it will be a difficult task to relax, Thomas,” I say in response.
“I do not doubt it,” he says, planting a chaste kiss on my left cheek as he walks away. “Yet I ask that you try. I have vowed to deal with William, and I will do so. In the meantime, I want us to enjoy supper. William and Helena are my friends, and once this issue has been resolved, I would like for them to be your friends as well.”
A silent gasp leaves my lips and I turn to eye him. “Friends, Thomas?” I practically spit out the words, the old defiant Lydia suddenly resurfacing. “How can you presume friendship with a gentleman who made me feel such discomfort?”
His face relaxes, and he fiddles with his dark cravat as he moves back toward me. “Very well,” he relents, reaching for my hand. “Perhaps friendship is too high a hurdle to jump? I know that you are nervous, Lydia, and I swear that I will always protect you, but once I have put William in his place, I do hope that we can move forward from this?”
I nod, knowing that he only desires harmony between the people who share his life, and I inwardly berate myself for my obnoxious tone. “I understand,” I say, “and I am sorry if I was disrespectful.”
Thomas presses himself against me, grinding his groin into my middle. I mewl reflexively as his masculinity hardens next to me. “I accept your apology, but as I recall, you are already due a spanking.” His voice is a deep, low promise. “I will be more than happy to reacquaint you with my crop, my love.”
I shudder at his words, but raise my eyes to meet his intense gaze. “You must do as you will, husband,” I say, deliberately meaning to test his mettle.
His eyes accept my challenge, and at the same time his arms pull me into a hard embrace. “I will, my love,” he growls, “but first, we are invited to pre-supper drinks.”
Chapter Forty: Lady Helena
Supper passes without a hitch, the tone surprisingly genteel considering my anxiety. The saddle of venison is delicious, and Thomas permits me to indulge in one glass of red wine with the meal, a fact which Lord William does not miss from the other side of the table. As dessert is cleared away, Lady Helena rises from her place, excusing us ladies from the dining room. I drop my napkin onto the table, turning to look at Thomas before I leave.
He rises from his seat and moves toward me, planting a lingering kiss against my cheek. “Look after my wife, Helena,” he says, his eyes never leaving me as he speaks. I have the distinct feeling that now is the time he intends to confront Lord William with what transpired in his absence last time we visited Cranningford, and the butterflies in my belly lurch at the idea.
Lady Helena dances her way to my side, pulling on my right arm as she replies. “Of course I will, Thomas. Now, put her down and let us away!”
He smiles and nods, watching as she drags me playfully away. I follow her as we leave the dining room and make our way into the music room. I am pleased to avoid the drawing room where my previous encounter with her husband had taken place, but upon seeing the old grand piano, I am flooded with memories of my previous experiences at the place.
“Madam,” I begin. “I do not which to offend you, but I hope that you will not require me to play this evening. I feel quite exhausted from travelling.”
She turns to me as she finds her seat, and smiles as she sits upon the leather chair. She shakes her hand dismissively. “There is no offence,” she says glibly. “I can well remember the exhaustion of a bridal tour—let alone what it must have been like with Thomas!”
I inhale deeply at the familiar tone she takes, but bite my lip, saying nothing which is likely to be deemed impolite. Her footman moves forward, refilling Lady Helena’s glass with wine, and then pausing to offer me another.
“No, thank you,” I say, declining the offer.
“Oh, go on, dear Lydia!” she exclaims from her seat opposite me. “Please enjoy a drink with me. You can be sure that the men will do so next door.”
I consider her words, and then—after a moment of reflection—I nod to the footman, consenting to a small glass. He moves away, leaving us to our drinks by the large fireplace.
“I know we are not friends, Lydia,” begins Lady Helena, her voice shrill in the quiet of the room. “Yet I hope that in time, we can be?”
I smile, taking a sip of the wine to overcome the awkwardness I feel. “I would like that, My Lady,” I say. “I must confess to not having enjoyed so many friendships since I moved from London.”
Her smile widens at my admission. “Then you must allow me to look after you!” she calls, her voice taking on an almost sing-song quality. “And please, Lydia, do call me Helena. Should you need any guidance or advice regarding matters of marital concern, then please do not hesitate to contact me?”
I flush, uncertain how I should respond. “I am not sure that Thomas would appreciate me doing so,” I answer after another sip of from my glass.
She laughs at my reply. “You will soon have the measure of Thomas,” she assures me. “Whilst he will seek to possess you as his wife, he is clearly mesmerised by you, Lydia—any fool can see that.”
I look to her beneath my lashes, watching the outline of her fair hair against the backdrop of the fire. How beautiful she looks in the firelight, her face radiant as she seeks to offer me counsel. In this moment, I can see why both Lord William and Thomas have been drawn to her in the past. Emboldened, perhaps by our new intimacy, or perhaps by the wine, I decide to take Lady Helena up on her offer.
Taming Lady Lydia Page 34