Fenella J Miller (12 page)

‘Be quiet! I have heard more than
I wish from you this morning, Miss Coombs.’

The harshness of his tone and the
roughness of his hold told her that this time she had gone too far. She prayed
Mary would be waiting for her in her apartment and not below stairs occupied
with laundry and ironing because, without an audience, Ned’s fury would be
unleashed on her without restraint.

Her father had never used
corporal punishment when she had misbehaved. However bad her behaviour, he
would admonish her verbally and then banish her to the nursery without supper.
There she had to compose a suitable apology which would be offered when she was
forgiven and eventually summoned to his study.

The man holding her would not
scruple to use physical retribution to stamp his authority. If she hadn’t gone
willingly into his arms, welcoming his kisses, none of this would have
happened. What had possessed her to scream?
To bite him?
Why had she not lain still and been happy that his quick wit was smoothing over
her appalling behaviour?

Her limbs began to shake at the
thought of what awaited her when she arrived at her rooms. She had behaved like
a child in a tantrum - he couldn’t be blamed for wishing to punish her as he
would if she was still in the schoolroom.

He halted briefly outside her
parlour, leaning forward to release the catch. He didn’t push open the door, he
kicked it. Her stomach churned and scolding tears trickled down her cheeks. She
waited to hear her maid rush into the room, but no-one came to save her. She
was alone with a terrifying stranger and must face the consequences of her
actions.

Chapter Thirteen

Penny was dumped unceremoniously
on to the small padded sofa that stood in front of the window seat. She shrunk
back, keeping her head lowered and her eyes closed, waiting for the storm to
break. He moved away, there were some thuds and then silence.

She remained crouched and
shivering for a while, before risking raising her head and opening her eyes.
She was met by an implacable icy-green glare. The noises she had heard had been
him carrying the chair she kept in front of her desk across the room and
positioning it within arm’s reach.

She wanted to apologize – to break
the interminable silence – but her mouth was dry and her words remained stuck
in her throat. She couldn’t look away. She was pinned to her seat like a
butterfly to a board. Ned slowly unfolded his arms and began to lean towards
her. Panic held her frozen.

‘You bit me.’ He announced
baldly. ‘Not even as a child did anyone do that.’

Words finally tumbled from her
mouth. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve never bitten anyone before. I don’t know what came over
me. You were holding me so tight and I couldn’t speak and… and….’

Her voice trailed away and her
eyes filled. She gulped, wishing she had the strength to run away and hide.

He began in a conversational
tone, no sign of his former anger apparent. ‘What to do you suggest I do? If
one behaves like a spoilt brat should they not expect to be punished like one?’

‘Yes. I
deserve to be beaten and give you permission to do so.’ Her voice was little
more than a whisper.

‘My dear, I don’t need your
permission. It’s my right to administer whatever punishment I think
appropriate.’ Penny closed her eyes and waited, not bothering to search for a
handkerchief to wipe away her tears. ‘However,’ he continued, ‘I’ve never
struck a woman or child and don’t intend to do so now, however richly you
deserve it.’

Her eyes flew open in
astonishment. ‘You don’t wish to beat me?’

He smiled, his eyes alight with
amusement. ‘I didn’t say I had no wish to beat you - I said that I wasn’t going
to. There’s a distinct difference, my love. And you would do well to remember
it.’

He stretched out and lifted her
from the sofa. This time she didn’t struggle. He nuzzled her ear and her pulse
raced. Did he have a different kind of penalty in mind?

Placing his mouth directly over
her ear he whispered softly. ‘Be very sure, my dear, if you ever behave in such
a way again I shall not hesitate to administer a spanking that will leave you
unable to sit in comfort for a week.’

‘I promise I shall be a model of
propriety in future.’ She wriggled, uncomfortably aware that she was in
desperate need of relief. ‘Please could you put me down? I need to go ….’ She
stopped, her face fiery, appalled that she had been about to mention something
so indelicate.

Without argument he placed her on
the floor. ‘I shall wait for you, Penny. There’s something we need to discuss
before this evening.’

She nodded, too embarrassed to
reply. She turned, receiving a hard slap on her bottom to assist her on her
way. She heard him chuckling hatefully as she rubbed the smarting area in the
privacy of her bedchamber.

She returned to her sitting-room,
face scrubbed clean and hair tidy, to discover the room empty. She looked at
the bracket-clock and realized she had been absent for almost twenty minutes.
Far too long to expect a lord to stand about.
Disappointed,
she walked to the window to stare across the garden.

 
It was too late to go down for tea and too
early to dress for dinner. She would read her romance novel – this was one that
had been recommended by her aunt. The book was entitled
Pride and Prejudice
and the librarian had told her it was very
highly thought of by all the ladies who had borrowed it before her.

She was curled up comfortably on
the window seat when there was a knock on the door. Before she had time to
answer the door swung open and Ned appeared.

‘Good – I apologize for deserting
you but I had business to attend to. Put your novel away, Penny, I wish to talk
to you.’

Obediently she replaced her
bookmark and closed the pages. ‘I must beg your pardon for being so long. I was
disappointed you had not waited to speak to me.’

He strolled across and placing
one finger under her chin tilted her head and brushed her lips with a gentle
kiss. ‘Sweetheart, may I join you here? Or shall we move to the sofa?’

‘There’s ample room on this
window seat if I sit straight.’ She prepared to remove her feet from under her.
He prevented her by folding his length into the available space. Then he took
her legs and rested them across his lap. She was certain having her limbs so
close to his nether regions was not acceptable in polite circles, but was
content to leave things as they were.

‘Ned, what is it you have to say
that’s so urgent it cannot wait?’

He ran his fingers lightly across
her shins sending shockwaves of delight spiralling up her legs. Should she
remove herself from his reach? When he was touching her she was unable to think
clearly and was certain if her
abigail
walked in and
saw them, she would be deeply shocked.

‘I’ve asked Mr Weston to act as
your escort when I’m unable to be at your side myself. I’m still not certain
you’re safe from harm. I’ve important estate business to attend to and cannot
spend as much time with you as I should like. I hope this meets with your
approval.’

His back was
resting in the corner of the embrasure opposite, his booted feet were crossed
casually at the ankles and his cream breeches clung to his thighs emphasizing
their solidity. She couldn’t tear her gaze away and failed to answer. His
fingers tensed.

‘This won’t do, my love. I’ll
find myself taking shameful advantage if you continue to look at me like that.’

Her head was heavy, as if her
neck was too slender to support it. Slowly she looked up to meet his quizzical
gaze. ‘I don’t understand what happens to me whenever I’m near you. I feel so
strange, as if I have a fever.’ Her mouth curved mischievously. ‘I’m beginning
to suspect that you’re making me unwell. Perhaps we shouldn’t continue with
this engagement? I’m sure you don’t wish to acquire an ailing wife.’

‘Perish the thought!’ Abruptly he
pushed her legs aside and stood up. ‘As soon as we’re man and wife, I promise
you, my darling girl, I’ll cure what ails you. Believe
me,
I’m as afflicted as yourself.’

She scrambled from her perch to
join him. ‘You asked me something earlier, but I cannot quite recall what it
was.’

‘I told you James will be your
escort when I’m not available myself.’ He smiled and her toes curled in her
stockings. ‘The matter’s not open for debate: that was a rhetorical question.
As you are no doubt aware I’m the lord and master here.’

She dipped in a low curtsy. ‘I’m
yours to command, my lord.’

‘I agree that you’re mine, my
love, but I’m not sure how true the second statement is.’

‘Are you suggesting that I’m
disobedient? Surely not! I’m the epitome of docility and would not dare to go
against your wishes.’

‘As I’ve said several times
before, sweetheart, you’re a baggage. I’ll see you in the drawing-room at seven
o’clock.’ With a nod and a wave he was gone, leaving the room feeling empty.

Several days later Penny was
waiting outside the house with Mr Weston. They were discussing where to go for
her morning ride.

‘It’s good of you to accompany
me, Mr Weston. I’m sure you have better things to do than jaunt around the
countryside with your cousin’s betrothed.’

The young man bowed his head. ‘On
the contrary, Miss Coombs, I am only sorry you have not felt the need to ask me
until now.’

The clatter of horses being led
around from the stables interrupted their conversation. Billy and Fred, Penny’s
own grooms, followed behind the stable boys.

Mr Weston stepped forward.
‘There’s no need for either of you to accompany us. Miss Coombs will be quite
safe in my company.’

Billy looked to Penny for
confirmation. She nodded. ‘We’re only riding in the woods. It’s perfectly safe
and two of our carriage horses need shoeing. Lady Dalrymple and I wish to drive
to Ipswich tomorrow so it’s essential the horses are ready.’

‘Very well, miss.’ Billy touched
his cap politely and with Fred close behind returned to the stables.

Penny collected her reins,
bending her leg to allow Mr Weston to assist her into the saddle. By the time
she had the skirt of her habit arranged and her foot firmly in the single
stirrup iron, her companion was mounted and waiting to leave.

Phoenix was, as usual, skittish
and eager and Penny needed all her skill to remain aboard. Laughing she called.
‘Shall we gallop round the park first?’

‘I’ve a better idea. Follow me.’
Without waiting for her reply, Mr Weston shortened his reins and his gelding shot
off towards the path that led to the beach. Penny had no alternative, if she
didn’t wish to be left behind, but to follow.

They thundered down the path and
she saw they were heading in the direction of the bridge across the fast
flowing river. She wasn’t sure she wished to go there again, but had no option.
She called out to Mr Weston, but her words were carried away by the wind.

Eventually the horse in front
slowed its pace and she was able to bring Phoenix alongside. ‘Mr Weston, I
believe Lord Weston didn’t wish me to leave the park.’

‘He didn’t say so to me. I
believe his only stipulation was that you remain within the confines of
Headingly
. Ned’s land stretches several more miles in each
direction so we’re well within the estate.’ He smiled. ‘However, if you’ve no
wish to continue in this direction, I’m yours to command. Shall we turn back
and continue our ride through the woods in the other direction?’

‘No, now we’re so close it would
be a shame not to go on.’ Penny patted the steaming neck of her horse. ‘But I
must warn you, Mr Weston, Phoenix doesn’t like crossing bridges of that sort.
You’ll have to take the lead.’

‘If you wish, you can walk across
and I’ll lead your horse.’

What an idea! ‘That won’t be
necessary, thank you. If I can’t persuade him to take
me
then I shall take
him
.’

They rode side-by-side chatting
companionably and she was glad she’d agreed to this excursion. Ned had said
there were smugglers using his beach – she had never seen such a person and
rather thought it would be thrilling to do so. She was smiling to herself at
her absurdity when he spoke.

‘Miss Coombs, do you care to
share the cause of your amusement?’

‘I was thinking that I should
like to meet the smugglers who use this beach, which is nonsense, of course. No
self-respecting free-trader would be abroad in day time, would they?’

‘Indeed not! What makes you think
there’re smugglers? I haven’t heard that they’re in this area.’

‘Well, when I was here last time
I found a French coin on the bridge. That’s proof enough, surely?’

The path widened and the sound of
the river racing towards the sea was clearly audible. Phoenix tossed his head
nervously. ‘Don’t be silly; you’ve nothing to fear. The bridge is perfectly
safe.’

‘Are you sure
you wish to remain mounted, Miss Coombs? Your horse seems a little unsettled by
the noise of the water.’

 
She nodded. ‘If you cross, I’ll follow. Your
beast is calm and can set a good example.’

Mr Weston approached the narrow wooden
bridge and she almost wished his horse would refuse to cross, that the whole
expedition could be abandoned. She was disappointed as the grey walked on to
the structure without hesitation.

Mr Weston reined in and turned to
call back to her. ‘Bring Phoenix along now, Miss Coombs. The closer he is to
Trojan the easier it will be to persuade him to the other side.’

Sitting deep in her saddle she
urged her horse forward. To her delight Phoenix walked on to the bridge without
hesitation. Mr Weston had been correct in his assumption. The grey walked on
and she followed. She hadn’t realized when she’d crossed the bridge on foot
that a rider was well above the safety of the wooden railing. She swallowed
nervously as she glanced sideways and saw how far it was to the water below.

 
Phoenix, sensing her unease, stopped and his
ears went back. ‘Go on, stupid animal, it’s only a bridge.’ She urged him on
knowing her anxiety had caused his hesitation. The horse responded and began to
move again. She looked ahead and saw, to her surprise, Trojan had increased his
pace and was almost off the bridge. Why had Mr Weston not waited for her?

‘Come along, Phoenix, we don’t
wish to be left behind.’

As she spoke, her horse reared up
and lurched sideways. She clung to his mane and threw her weight forward,
trying to force him down. His front hoofs had barely touched the planks when
for a second time he whinnied and shied. This time he crashed into the railing
and the wood splintered. She was catapulted from the saddle and plummeted
towards the raging torrent below.