Her Noble Lords (20 page)

The massive wheels bearing the chains start to turn, the creaking, groaning sound an indication of the sheer weight of the solid oak barrier as it lowers into place to offer a bridge across the moat. With a clatter of hooves, the men stream across, my own two at the head of the line. Ralf spots me at once and turns his mount in my direction.

“My lady, you make a fine sight for a weary man after two days and nights on the road.” He slides from the horse and closes the gap between us to seize me in his arms and swing me around in a wide arc. He plants me back on the ground, mercifully without jolting my foot too much and kisses me soundly.

“My lord,” I gasp when an opportunity presents itself, “welcome home.”

“It is good to be here, my sweet.” He turns to Piers who has also dismounted to issue instructions to the grooms who swarm among the horses now clustered in the bailey. “Brother, is she not a rare pleasure to behold?”

“She is, to be sure.” Piers approaches us, a smile on his face. He leans down to brush a kiss across my temple, then murmurs in my ear, “Are you still eager to feel the bite of my belt across your bottom, little maid? Ralf and I have both been anticipating this homecoming with some enthusiasm, I confess.”

“I… I am happy to see you too, Sir Piers, both of you. And yes, I look forward to greeting you properly. But first, may I—”

“Piers, you should unhand her ladyship and see to your horse. Then we shall hear all the news from Egremont over the noontime meal.” Ralf interrupts my words and Piers steps away, his expression still pleasant enough.

“Of course, brother. We shall join you indoors, Linnet. Please, do not tarry out here in the bitter cold.”

Momentarily forgetting my injured ankle, I turn to head back inside the hall, only to let out a sharp cry as the pain causes my lame leg to buckle beneath me. Piers is still close enough to catch my elbow and steady me, otherwise I would be kneeling on the cobbles.

“Linnet, what is it? You are hurt?” He peers at me in consternation and is soon joined by an equally perplexed Ralf. Both glower at me, demanding an explanation.

“It is nothing, my lords, not really. I stumbled whilst out on the slope leading up to the postern gate, that is all. I wrenched my ankle but it has been several days now and the injury is much less painful than it was. I still find it difficult to walk unaided though.” I glance around, catching sight of Joan in the mêlée of scurrying servants. “Ah, there is Joan, she will assist me.”

“I will assist you, my lady.” Ralf sweeps me into his arms. “And, once we have you settled inside where it is warm, we will be having an explanation as to the reasons you found it necessary to be outside the postern gate, despite our instructions to the contrary.”

“But, I—”

“Be silent, Linnet. We will discuss this in private.” Ralf’s tone is curt as he strides across the bailey and up the steps leading into the Egremont hall. I expect him to deposit me on a seat at the high table but he marches straight across the great hall and starts up the staircase to the earl’s private chambers.

“My lord, the meal…”

“Unless you can offer us a damn good explanation for your disobedience, wife, I suspect you will find yourself able to muster little interest in food for a while.” Ralf continues on up the stairs, only releasing me from his arms once we have reached our bedchamber and he is able to place me upon the bed.

I look up, to see a grim-faced Piers standing immediately behind Ralf. He must have followed us up the stairs. So much for attending to the needs of his horse. Both men look decidedly displeased.

“My lords, what is this? It is a minor injury, I shall soon be hale again and I believe it will make no difference to… well… to anything.”

Piers’ jaw is set, his eyes narrowing. “That is good, because the whipping you have to look forward to will hurt far more than any sprain, my lady.”

“Whipping? I do not understand…”

“Neither do we—yet. Please, could you explain to us what pressing and urgent business took you beyond the walls of this castle?”

“‘Twas nothing. We were merely gathering decorations for the Michaelmas feast. Ivy, mistletoe…” I hesitate, their thunderous expressions are growing more ominous by the minute. My explanation is not finding favour. “The garlands are hanging in the hall,” I add uselessly.

“You disobeyed us because you took it into your head to go out and pick a few flowers?” Piers’ tone is quiet, dangerously so.

“I did not disobey. You did not say that I could not—”

He cuts me off with a slash of his hand in front of my face. “Not disobey? Have you no recollection, madam, of our express instructions to you the night before we left? Did we not leave clear orders that the drawbridge remain closed whilst we were absent and that all our household were to remain within the castle. Are you not a member of that household, Linnet?”

“Yes, of course I am. And I do remember. But, I did not think you meant I might not go out for so much as a half hour to collect decorations for our feast. Am I a prisoner here?”

Piers utters something obscene and tilts his head back in exasperation. He makes a study of the vaulted ceiling whilst Ralf seeks to explain their wrath.

“Do not be ridiculous, Linnet, of course you are not a prisoner. You are lady of this keep and as such it is your responsibility, as much it is ours, to see to the safety and security of all within. We gave you explicit instructions regarding how that was to be accomplished. All you had to do was obey.”

“But there was no danger. We kept a vigilant look out the entire time. We remained within sight of the walls and could have easily sought refuge in the castle should there have been any problem. But there was not. Well, except for my fall but that could have happened anywhere.”

At mention of my injury, Piers sheds his cloak and sits on the edge of the bed. He seizes my ankle, his touch firm but gentle and he removes my boot. The bruising has subsided and all that can now be discerned is the yellowish purple band at the site of the sprain. Piers prods it, his eyes on my face.

“Does that hurt?”

“A little, sir.”

“And this?” He rotates my foot in his hands.

I flinch and let out a soft cry. “Yes, sir. That hurts.”

“You must keep your weight off it for several more days.”

“I know. I have been looking after myself, I promise.”

Ralf lets out an irritated snort. “Not well enough, it would appear. And you have set a dreadful example to our people who must have been aware that you were flouting our authority.”

“Oh, I do not believe it was so, my lord. Joan explained that it was a tradition to deck the hall at Michaelmas, so we thought—”

“Mayhap we need to have words with your maid too, madam, if this is the sort of behaviour she is abetting you in.” I have never seen Ralf so cold, so angry. And now it seems some of that ire is to be visited upon my servant too.

“No! No, sir, please do not involve Joan. The responsibility was mine alone. It was my decision.”

Piers stands. “Yes, Linnet, on that we can agree. It was your responsibility, so the punishment shall be yours alone too. You will strip and lie face down on the bed. I will require your bottom to be at the end, if you please.”

My heart plummets. This is so far removed from the homecoming I longed for. “My lords, I am sorry, I will not make such a mistake again, I swear it.”

Ralf has been over to the window, surveying the scene below but he returns to the bed to cup my tear-stained face in his hands. “We have no wish to hurt you, Linnet, Lord knows we do not. But you must appreciate the danger. You are right, we can see an attack coming from miles away if our enemies approach from the north or east but what about from other directions? From the sea, perhaps? That is the way they would come, especially if they were aware that Piers and I were not in residence. That is when we are most vulnerable, when additional vigilance is vital. The only way to guarantee the safety of Egremont is to keep the drawbridge up and everyone inside. What if you had been taken by surprise, made a hostage? Killed even? Our guards would have had no option but to come out to your aid and that would have left Egremont undefended. We might have returned to find our keep sacked, our people dead. Our wife dead. This cannot go unpunished, Linnet, it just cannot.”

“I… I see.” And I do. I might protest that they could have explained all this to me more fully before they left but the fact remains they instructed me to remain within Egremont, to allow no one in or out. That was all I needed to know, all I needed to do. But I did not do it. They have every right to be angry and to punish me for it.

Except, there is one thing I have yet to mention. One fact which might make a difference to what will happen to me next.

“My lords. I understand and I will accept your discipline. I am deeply sorry for my actions and I know I must bear the consequences. But, you should know, I believe I am pregnant.”

“Believe?”

“Pregnant?”

Both men bellow the words at me at once. It is Piers who calms first.

“I am sure we are both quite delighted at these tidings, my lady. How long have you suspected?”

“Just a few days. I realised after you left. My courses are late and my breasts…”

Ralf nods, his arms folded. “Ah. ‘Tis early yet then. Do you feel quite well, apart from your ankle, naturally?”

“Yes, my lord, thank you. Although I have felt more tired than usual these last few days.”

“You must take more rest. We shall see to it and we shall require your maid to aid us in this. Perhaps you should have another personal servant at your disposal, to ensure you do not find it necessary to flout our rules.”

“I am sure I can manage…”

“And we are quite sure you cannot. Do you have a preference or shall we select your additional maid?” Ralf has seated himself on the edge of the bed and takes both my hands in his. “What about that little seamstress who made your wedding dress? You seem fond of her.”

I brighten momentarily. “Agnes? Yes, I do like her. Could I have her, please?”

“Of course. We’ll leave it to you to summon the wench and share the good news of her elevated status. For now, we have another pressing problem to address—that of your suitable chastisement. But now we find we must achieve the desired result without endangering you or the babe.” Piers turns to regard his brother. “I believe one of us will need to make a visit to the kitchens.”

Ralf inclines his head. “I will do it.”

No more words are exchanged between them. Ralf kisses the backs of my knuckles then gets to his feet. He strides from the room, whistling.

There is nothing I can say which will elicit any manner of explanation from Piers. During the entire time we await Ralf’s return from the kitchens—a good half hour—he refuses to divulge any information at all regarding their intentions. I assure him I am not in the least hungry and if I were, the tables in the hall are laden with any amount of succulent food so it seems likely that Ralf has had a wasted trip. He simply smiles. I do not find it a particularly pleasing expression.

Ralf re-enters the chamber, a small covered platter in his hand. He sets it upon a table to the side of our bed.

“Linnet, you will remove your clothing, please.” Piers’ command is curt, his features set. Despite their concerns for my pregnancy, it appears I am to be spanked after all. I expected no less, in truth.

I scramble from the bed, taking care to favour my injured ankle. Standing before them, I start to unfasten the long tunic covering my skirts.

“Do you require assistance?” As ever, Ralf is the epitome of courteous consideration.

“No, my lord. I can manage.”

I drop my clothing to the floor, item by item and in just a few moments I stand naked before them. Piers jerks his chin in the direction of the bed. “You know the position, Linnet.”

I bend over, careful to balance my weight on the bed and not on my feet. At another terse command from Piers I spread my thighs as wide as I am able. This puzzles me if it is their intention to spank me but I do as I am instructed.

Ralf moves to stand behind me, whilst Piers retrieves the platter from the side table. I watch over my shoulder as he joins Ralf at the foot of the bed.

“Face forward and close your eyes, girl.” Ralf’s tone is cold, his demeanour detached, distant. I have seldom seen this from him. He is very displeased with me, a response born of fear, I know, but it scares me even so.

I turn my head away and resolve to accept whatever happens with both fortitude and humility. They are right to seek to protect our home and I deserve this punishment. If only I were less afraid.

One of them parts my buttocks. He is gentle, opening my most intimate places for inspection. I remain motionless.

“Wide enough? Do we need oil?” Ralf’s voice. He must be the one handling me.

“I think not. It would diminish the sensation. We need to ensure we make this is a memorable lesson for our wayward little wife.”

I flinch as a long finger is inserted into my arse. There is no preamble, no gentle urging or coaxing, just straight in. It is uncomfortable but not especially painful. As quick as it went in there, the digit is withdrawn.

“She’ll do. She’s tight enough to gain the full benefit but not so much so that she may be injured. Pass me the root, if you would please.”

Root?
I am at a loss to comprehend what is happening and I do not dare to ask. I remain still as something cool and hard is pressed against the resisting ring of muscles framing my rear entrance.

“Open, girl. Allow this in without a fight and it will go better for you.” Piers taps me on the bottom, hard enough to get my attention, though not quite a slap.

Allow what in? What are they doing to me?
Shaking now, I attempt to relax my muscles enough to permit whatever they have in mind. It is to no avail. Piers’ tone is sharp when he speaks to me again. “Linnet, this is happening, however difficult you choose to make it for yourself.”

There is no help for it, I have to ask. “What, sir? What is happening? I do not understand…”