Seducing the Master (An Erotic Historical in the Red Chrysanthemum Series) (11 page)

His jaw tightened. Did she think him
incapable of meting out pain? He knew not why Miss Terrell riled
him, and reminded himself to ignore her antics.

“How else might you show deference?”

“Address your dominant appropriately, as
Master or Mistress,” said Miss Terrell, “lest you have been told
different. For instance, if I am the submissive, I ought not
address Master Gallant as
Mister
Gallant. Is that not
correct, Mister Gallant?”

A muscle rippled along his jaw. Miss Greta
had once tested him in this manner. He had thrown her into a cage
and allowed her to stew there for an hour, and he had a mind to do
the same to Miss Terrell.

“As my assistant, you will assume the
position of a submissive.”

Once more, a small smile graced her plump
lips. He wondered if he had played into her hands.

“Yes, Master Gallant.”

“Continue,” he directed, a hint of
exasperation escaping with his command.

“Thank him for everything that your Master
does. If he brings you pleasure, if he shows you mercy, if he
provides you the punishment you deserve, all these must be accepted
with gratitude.”

“Thank him for everything?” Miss Katherine
asked. “All acts big and small?”

“The criteria for each Master differ” said
Charles. “If your husband does not express them to you, ask it of
him. It is important that expectations are clear, or you will not
be able to perform to them.”

“I am allowed questions?”

“You may need to request permission to speak
first, but I encourage you to ask as many queries as possible.”

“Many dominants require you to assume a
proper bearing of respect as well,” Miss Terrell added. “I knew of
one who never wished me to lift my eyes lest I had permission to do
so.”

Charles nodded. “You may be required to
assume a position of submission upon greeting your Master.”

“What is a position of submission?” Miss
Katherine asked.

He turned to Miss Terrell and raised his
brows. She went to her knees, clasped her hands behind her, and
lowered her gaze to the floor. He stared. The prospect of what it
would be like to be her dominant tugged at his groin.

Recalling himself, he said to Miss
Katherine, “That is but one example. His lordship should instruct
you on what he prefers. Let us practice these rubrics.”

At her lack of response, he gestured to the
floor. Hesitantly, she rose from the bed, knelt beside Miss Terrell
and mirrored her.

“Very good, Miss Katherine.”

He walked around the two women. Many a man
would envy him his current position with two such beauties kneeling
before him.

“I will have your hands clasped behind your
backs and your gazes upon me,” he directed.

They did as he ordered.

“Now tap the top of your head with your
right hand.”

The two women exchanged looks but did as
told.

“Good. Replace your hand. You may now stand.
And hop on your left foot.”

“Do you mean to make fools of us?” Miss
Terrell asked.

“Permission to speak was not granted, Miss
Terrell. The purpose of this exercise is to condition you to follow
instructions.”

The two women began hopping. He allowed them
to hop for a while before saying. “You may cease the hopping and
instead wave your arms as if they are the wings of a bird.”

Without word, they flapped their arms up and
down. It was a ludicrous scene but left no doubt as to who
commanded and who followed. After some time, he saw that Miss
Katherine began to tire and both of them clearly expected him to
call an end to the motion. He did not.

“Permission to speak, Master Gallant,”
huffed Miss Terrell.

“Denied,” he replied with a degree of
smugness. She had insinuated herself as his submissive and would
endure the consequences. “Lift the arms higher. I want to see them
parallel to the ground.”

Groaning, Miss Katherine struggled to do so.
Miss Terrell, too, must have experienced soreness in her shoulders
but managed to raise her arms the requisite height.

“Come, Miss Katherine,” he encouraged. “I’ve
no wish to discipline you tonight.”

This proved the motivation she required.
With a grimace, she threw her arms into the air and nearly doubled
over from the effort.

“Please…Master Gallant,” she whispered.

“Once more, Miss Katherine.”

She tried but collapsed to her knees.

“Once more, Miss Katherine,” he pressed to
see if she could recall her safety word.

“I cannot,” she gasped.

“Miss Katherine,” he admonished as he stood
over her.

“Please…”

“Once more, Miss Katherine.”

Miss Terrell ceased her arm movements. “You
ought leave her be.”

Whirling around, he faced the meddler. Miss
Terrell did not know his motive for pushing Miss Katherine, but she
should have known better than to interfere or speak without
permission.

“Can you not see the poor thing is
exhausted?” Miss Terrell remarked.

She spoke with what sounded to be genuine
concern for Miss Katherine. But that did not matter. She had
disregarded the principle she was supposed to support and uphold
before Miss Katherine.

Now he had no choice but to punish her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

M
iss Terrell met his
unhappy gaze and there appeared a momentary unease in her eyes, but
she kept her chin lifted, in defiance it seemed, though, given that
Charles was a head taller, she could not have met his stare without
looking up.

Still in a poor disposition after his
earlier meeting with Sir Arthur, Charles had little patience for
Miss Terrell and her mischief. Her intrusion into his affairs with
Miss Katherine was unacceptable enough, now she dared instruct him
on how to handle his pupil? He considered punishing both women for
Miss Terrell’s error, but if Miss Katherine found comfort in the
presence of the impish blackamoor, and as he still needed to
cultivate a sense of ease in the young viscountess, he ought not
ruin the newfound bond between the two women.

Drawing himself before Miss Terrell, he said
to the chit, “I shall address your insubordination later.”

She stared at him with large eyes the shape
of almonds. Was it the pronounced eyelids or the contrast of the
whites of her eyes to her dark complexion that made them appear so
bold?

“Please do,” she invited.

His groin tightened, and he decided to turn
and look upon Miss Katherine, who was crumpled to the floor upon
her knees. She had not yet employed her safety word, Jean. Though
he had not granted Miss Terrell permission to speak, he would have
allowed her to remind Miss Katherine that there was a means to
putting an end to her suffering. But, despite her tenure at the Red
Chrysanthemum, it was perhaps Miss Terrell herself who wanted
reminding.

“I’ve not had a safety word in some time,”
Miss Terrell had told him. “You may do your worst, Master
Gallant.”

He should have known, at those words, that
Miss Terrell would not prove a shining example of good and proper
submissive behavior—though she could be made an example of, and
thereby discourage Miss Katherine from misconduct. But punishment
was what the minx wanted. He cursed himself. He could not recall
being at such a loss as to what to do with a woman. Yes, he could
simply send her away, as he had wanted to do moments ago. Miss
Katherine might be alarmed at the loss of her shield, but in truth,
he was not ready to give in. He was not ready to admit he could not
handle Miss Terrell. Especially now that she had challenged him.
Miss Terrell needed a lesson as much as Miss Katherine, and who
better to instruct her than him?

“On your feet, Miss Katherine,” he ordered.
He needed to be careful. If he were too harsh, he would obliterate
the trust he had established with her yesterday through
gentleness.

Miss Terrell bent down to assist, but he
thrust his arm between them. “I did not ask you to move, Miss
Terrell. Miss Katherine is capable of standing on her own.”

The young viscountess pulled herself to her
feet.

“Both arms,” he said, “straight out at the
shoulders.”

The two women lifted their arms in
compliance.

“Now flap them once more. Without stopping
this time. For five minutes”

Miss Terrell blew at a tendril of her hair
and rolled her eyes ever so slightly.

Charles crossed his arms across his chest.
“For that little gesture, Miss Terrell, you have earned yourself
ten
minutes.”

Frowning, she gave him a hard stare.

He turned back to Miss Katherine, whose arms
moved but sagged far below the shoulders. “Higher, Miss
Katherine.”

She shook her head. “Please, Master Gallant.
Will you not have mercy? My arms are greatly fatigued.”

“You wish to desist?”

“Yes, please!”

“I can only grant mercy when you demand
it.”

At a loss, she appeared panicked.

“Higher!” he barked of her arms.

“I demand it, Master Gallant, I demand
mercy,” she cried.

“Demand me to desist properly.”

“John!” Miss Terrell provided. “Or was it
Jean?”

Realization dawned for Miss Katherine. “Yes!
Jean! I demand ‘Jean’!”

With a relieved sigh, he nodded for her
stop. With an even greater sigh, Miss Katherine let fall her arms
and sat down upon the bed behind her.

“I did not say you could sit,” he said.

She jumped to her feet. “Your pardon. Master
Gallant, may I sit?”

“You may.”

With another sigh, she sank back down.

“Well done, Miss Katherine,” he said. “You
are proving an apt pupil.”

More apt than this one
, he thought to
himself as he stood before Miss Terrell. She continued to flap her
arms though the strain was visible upon her furrowed brow. She,
too, could have called upon her safety word, but he did not wish
for her to use it. Miss Terrell needed to learn a lesson first.

“You boasted you require no safety word,” he
said, looking upon his pocket watch. “Was that a premature
statement on your part?”

Gritting her teeth, she said nothing. Her
arm movements made her bosom rise and fall. He allowed himself a
quick glance at her décolletage before stepping back and taking a
seat in an armchair opposite her. He needed the distance or he
might be tempted to do more than have her flap her arms. He might,
for example, want to unlace her corset and affix weights to her
nipples. Propping an ankle over his other leg, his comfortable
position a clear contrast to her situation, he put down his book
but continued to hold the pocket watch.

Miss Katherine glanced between them, clearly
wanting to plead for Miss Terrell but not daring to.

“Five minutes more,” he informed.

The small room was quiet but for the sound
of Miss Terrell grunting. Given that her muscles must have been on
fire, he suspected the minutes passed like hours for her. If it was
punishment she desired, he would deliver it, but it might not be
the sort she would enjoy. He wondered what other manner of
punishment would suffice. Leaving her to hang in bondage had not
deterred her. Nor had the spanking. Perhaps he ought to have used a
paddle to her backside. The memory of her charming arse made him
shift in his chair. His hand would have liked to connect once more
with that smooth and supple flesh.

“Three minutes,” he said.

Her lashes fluttered and her grunts
lengthened as she struggled to lift her arms. She had mentioned
toiling in the fields. Might she have once worked upon a
plantation? He knew little of her save that she had been a favorite
of Mr. Worthington, a slave owner from the West Indies. He realized
her way of speaking differed from any he had heard before in
London. Having spent the better part of the last two years in the
Orient, however, he had grown accustomed to strange intonations. He
had tried his best to master the Chinese language but, while he
heard the various inflections in each of their words, he could not
perfectly reproduce them.

“Two minutes.”

Miss Terrell emitted a growl, but he could
see she was determined to see her punishment through. Miss
Katherine continued to watch in her nervous way. He had not given
up hope of convincing Lord Wendlesson to undertake the instruction
of his own wife. Though Charles had not welcomed her interference,
perhaps Miss Terrell could be of use. Miss Katherine did not
believe pleasure could be had from pain, but Miss Terrell possessed
no such doubts. Perhaps the latter, being a woman, could better
convince Miss Katherine.

“One minute.”

With a grunt, Miss Terrell threw her arms
up. Seeing that her limbs quivered, he suspected the muscles of her
shoulders burned, but she did her best to execute his orders. He
could see how she might make an intriguing submissive. She had a
tenacity about her, a fearlessness he had not glimpsed in any other
woman—or man. He found himself wondering where she had come from?
Was she truly only twenty years of age? And why was she addressed
by her surname when all the other submissive women at the Red
Chrysanthemum were known by their given name?

He looked at his pocket watch. Her time
concluded, he said with genuine praise, “Well done, Miss
Terrell.”

She was breathing hard and her shoulders
sagged, but when she met his gaze once more, her chin lifted, her
countenance serene, almost regal, she asked, “Permission to
speak?”

“Granted,” he replied, replacing his
timepiece into the pocket of his waistcoat.

“I await further punishment, Master
Gallant.”

Taken aback, he said nothing. Miss Katherine
looked on with equal surprise.

“You said earlier that you would address my
insubordination,” Miss Terrell added.