Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Two days later, the butler announced I had a caller. I knew so few people in London, I assumed it was Cassie and I hurried to the parlor, eager to get caught up with my friend.

I came up short when instead of Cassie's smiling face, I gazed into Mrs. White's stern visage.

"You!" I gasped before I had a chance to compose myself after the shock of finding this woman in my home. "I thought you had sailed to America. Or did my father come to his senses and leave you behind?"

"The trip has been delayed. We sail in the morning," she said, "though your father and I did get married as we had planned. I am sorry you could not be there."

"Oh, I am sure you are," I said, not even trying to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

"Please, Sarah," she said. "We are family now, there is no need for you to be so hostile."

I did not deign to respond to that comment. "Why are you here? Did not my husband tell you never to darken this door again?"

She smiled at me as though I were a foolish child. "We are family, Sarah. Surely that counts for something?"

"What do you want?" I demanded. "You are not the type to try to make amends and you have no reason to now that you have achieved your goal of marrying my father."

She ignored my comment, but the sweet and caring stepmother mask she wore fell away as well. "You are an ungrateful child. My sister has fallen on hard times and seeks a position as a housekeeper. I thought perhaps you could speak to the Duke …"

I cut her off before she could finish. "Out!" I shouted, pointing a shaking finger to the door. "As though I would have a spy from your family in my home."

Mrs. White, though I supposed that she was now Mrs. Hancock, the name galled me, stood staring at me.

"You cannot speak to me that way, I am your stepmother."

I took a slow step in her direction, my voice low. "I told you to leave." My fingers itched to scratch her eyes out.

She gathered her things and moved toward the door. Unsatisfied, I followed her. "This woman," I said to the staff who had gathered when they heard my raised voice, "is never to be admitted to this home again. Do I make myself clear?"

Stunned, the maids and footmen nodded while the butler opened the door, making her egress faster. I stopped him from closing the door, then grabbed an apple from a bowl by the door. I stood on the steps and threw it at her, bouncing the fruit off the side of the rented carriage.

She ducked into the conveyance and they sped off. I watched with great satisfaction. As did several of my neighbors who had been drawn to their windows. They were not even subtle about watching. Lady Custard waved from across the street, then clapped her hands in a show of appreciation for my actions.

I was rather proud of myself.

A throat clearing interrupted my enjoyment of the moment. I turned to see Jeffrey standing at the base of the steps to our home.

My bottom tingled in warning.

"That was quite a scene," he said, walking up the stairs to join me.

"Yes. I cannot believe she had the nerve to show her face here. Asking for a job for her sister. No doubt meant to spy on me and report to her in America."

"Why have they not left?"

"She simply said their voyage was delayed. I should have known from the lingering stench in the air."

He took hold of my arm. "I believe it is time for us to end this show for the entire neighborhood."

Inside, he handed his coat and hat to the butler, then guided me to his study.

"Did you see the way I threw that apple? It nearly hit her, though I think the thud on the side of the carriage was just as good as if I'd landed it on her head. Or knocked off her hat. Would that not have been delightful?"

Jeffrey did not respond, simply looked at me.

"It took a lot of nerve for her to ask me to give her sister a job."

"It was not her behavior I found troubling…but yours."

I gaped at him. "What are you talking about? Do you not recall that my own father attempted to slap me and you ordered him never to come here again? Yet his wife shows her face and begs a favor of me."

"True." He tapped the tip of my nose, as though I was a naughty child. "But it does not excuse your behavior. You are my wife. I expect you to behave like a duchess at all times…or at least at all times when we are not alone."

I gawped, incredulous. "Are you mad? There was nothing wrong with my behavior. If anything, you should be proud of me for standing up for myself."

"You degraded yourself by your shrill tone and crude words. Not to mention the scene you caused for everyone in the neighborhood to see."

"Lady Custard seemed to support my actions."

"Lady Custard is the biggest gossip I know. She'll be in her carriage within a quarter hour, telling the tale all around town."

"Are you saying I must smile sweetly whenever I am insulted and not defend myself?"

"You were not insulted. If anything, your pride was hurt because your father has chosen a woman you despise as his new wife. And then that woman came to ask a favor of you."

"Damn right. I despise her."

"Enough!" Jeffrey grabbed my elbow and turned me to him. "I will not allow you to swear, and I most certainly will not tolerate such language when you speak to me."

The touch of my husband's hand on my elbow reminded me of our first meeting as well as his reaction to my bad behavior. Instinctively, my free hand moved to cover my bottom.

"That's right, my little spitfire, your behind is going to get a firm spanking. Go upstairs to our bedchamber, remove all of your clothing, then stand in the corner until I tell you otherwise."

"The corner? I am not a child." I jerked out of his grasp, faced him with both hands on my hips.

"If those are not the words of a petulant child in need of a firm hand, I do not know what would be. Now, be on your way before I decide to add more strokes to your punishment for your uncooperative attitude." He swatted my hide then steered me toward the door of his study.

I opened my mouth to reply but thought better of it and trudged up the stairs, making enough noise with my small feet to inform Jeffrey of my displeasure. "Quit stomping," he called after me. "I am well aware you are not pleased. It is not necessary for you to act like a brat in order to make your point."

"I am not a brat!" I shouted down the stairs at him, despite the irony of the statement.

On entering his bedchamber, I was again assaulted by the sight of the large bed, our marriage bed. My mind raced with images and memories of how we had spent our time there in the past few days.

How could the man who so tenderly introduced me to the wonders of marital intimacies turn into a brute who intended to spank me? And for no good reason, either.

Hideous Mrs. White ruined everything for me.

I knew what my husband expected, so reluctantly did my best to comply. Too discomfited to ring for my maid to assist me in undressing, I attempted to complete the task myself. I managed to get some of the hooks of my dress undone, but one or two at the very middle of my back were impossible to reach. Angry and frustrated, I hopped around the room, yanking at the bodice in an effort to wrestle free of the garment.

It was no use. My small hands simply could not span the fraction of an inch needed to unfasten the blasted thing, and I said as much to the empty room.

"Your mouth certainly gets you into a great deal of trouble, does it not?"

My toiling halted. I turned to see Jeffrey standing in the doorway. "I assumed I was alone." I huffed and resumed the tussle to escape my gown.

"Calm down, little hellcat." He easily unhooked the stubborn clasps, drew the sleeves down my arms, and lowered the dress for me to step out.

Wearing only my undergarments, I turned my back to him. "Would you be kind enough to assist me in removing my corset?" I tried very hard—well, maybe not extremely hard—to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

Perhaps turning my buttocks toward a man intent upon spanking me was unwise. Jeffrey, being clearer of mind than I, landed a swat in the center of my derriere. It ought to have been expected.

I remained in position, assuming he would assist in the removal of my corset since he had decreed I stand naked in the corner. The thought terrified me. Certainly he had explored my body thoroughly during our couplings, but to stand stripped in broad daylight for his inspection was too much to contemplate. However, what choice was there? I could hardly go running after my father and ask him to take me back to America with him. Nothing Jeffrey might mete out could be worse than being in the presence of that she-devil or the betrayal of my father.

Jeffrey tugged on the constraints of my clothing, but instead of loosening my corset, my pantalets puddled around my stockinged feet. I gasped and covered my lady parts.

My husband positioned me to face him then gripped my wrists. I was determined to retain my modesty, but his superior strength exposed my private curls to his inspection.

My face burned with embarrassment while the rest of me burned with need.

But, there was still the matter of my punishment, and my mate, though passion darkened his eyes as he reached down to fondle the silky entrance to my most womanly place, was unlikely to forget my misdeeds. His finger slipped between the lips of my femininity. I gasped again.

"What is this, my little poppet? You are wet with desire. Is it possible you like to be punished?"

My entire being flushed with mortification. I tried to cross my legs to prevent him from probing further.

Undeterred, he continued his attentions for a moment before removing his hand. "Let us get on with your punishment before we engage in pleasure." He directed me to the corner.

"But you said I was to be naked." I had no wish to stand in the corner nude, but I also did not want to be accused of breaking the rules.

"You are correct, little wife." His eyes roamed my figure while a quiver thrummed low in my belly. "But I have decided to alter my instructions. This outfit is most alluring." His hand slid down my back and cupped my exposed bottom cheeks.

He tucked the minimal fabric covering my breasts beneath them displaying the rounded swells of my bosom to his touch. Jeffrey licked his lips while his fingers plucked at their pebbled tips. I gasped with pleasure. When he pinched one nipple, then the other between his thumb and forefinger, I closed my eyes with ecstasy. When he eventually stopped his teasing, I ached for him.

He gripped my shoulders to steer me toward the corner. "Stand here quietly, little vixen, while I prepare for your punishment. Afterwards, we will take up where we left off." His voice, a gravelly growl, seared a jolt of longing through me.