A Stern Lord for My Lady by R.R. Vane

Chapter 8

Bertran spent his day thinking only of the moment he would return to his wife and finish what they’d started this morning. He felt loath to dance attendance to Henry, who seemed to be keeping him at Court for naught. Bertran already felt weary of the court, and looked forward to the day when he and his wife would rejoin one of their estates, to spend their time away from the hustle and bustle of London.

Midday repast still found him thinking of his wife, and of her sweet lips upon his cock. She was no shy, blushing woman and she’d brought him great pleasure. He thought upon his match with satisfaction – at least in the bedchamber, things would be always to his liking. And, in truth, so far he’d nothing to reproach his wife for even outside the bedchamber. She’d not behaved like the proud, disdainful woman he’d thought she was. Besides, he’d expected her to hold a grudge for the humiliation he’d bestowed on her in front of the whole court, but she didn’t seem angered against him anymore. He’d already perceived she was clever, so he assumed that, like him, she saw it was wiser to try to make the best of their marriage and attempt to be gracious to one another, since nothing could be changed. Or perhaps it was just as his parents had told him – the sound spanking he’d delivered had subdued her and had made her see him as the strong, decisive man he was.

His friends started teasing him good-naturedly, when they noted his absent-mindedness.

“No doubt thinking of the new bride he left at home…” Lord Vipont said cheerfully.

“Perhaps he’s thinking of further chastisement to bestow upon the comely lady,” Sir Simon added, with a wink.

His friends then made a show of proclaiming their wives had been on their best, sweetest behaviour since they’d witnessed Lady Alicia’s punishment. They went on to commend Bertran for his disciplining skills.

“I daresay, unlike your late wife, who was tame and meek, this new lady of yours will give you plenty of occasion to display your skills and set her bottom ablaze,” Sir Simon said.

Bertran said nothing, just smiling benevolently. His friends were mischievous, but for all their bragging and teasing, they were never harsh to their wives, and, to his knowledge, employed but mild discipline on their women.

“Wilful women are usually lusty in the bedchamber,” Vipont quipped. “By the dreamy look on our friend’s face this morn, the bride may be not as reluctant as we thought.”

Both Simon and Vipont went on with their teasing, but Bertran remained silent, since he’d always been a private man and had always thought the things that took place in the bedchamber should stay in the bedchamber. He bore his friends’ teasing with good humour, however noting the other lord knight who’d joined them, Tristram de Brunne, sat silent and rather forlorn, with brooding dark eyes. Bertran exchanged a look with his other friends, knowing that De Brunne was probably thinking of his own wife, the Northern lady he’d wed two years ago, who, it was well known, treated her husband with coldness and disdain. De Brunne and his wife were presently estranged from one another, and Bertran thought, so far, luck had smiled upon his own fate. Lady Alicia may not have wished him to marry her, but she seemed more than willing to spend time in his arms.

“Don’t brood, Tristram,” Simon said, touching his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m not brooding,” De Brunne muttered. “I’m thinking. I’m thinking I was wrong not to consider my lady wife may benefit from a lesson not very unlike the one Bertran’s new wife has received of late.”

Sir Simon and Lord Vipont heartily encouraged De Brunne that this was the right way of thinking, while Bertran rose with a smile, to go about his business. He meant to leave Court earlier today, to be able to come home earlier to his new wife, so he had no time to waste. Henry had bid him to go and deliver a message to the queen, as both monarchs now conversed mostly through their attendants, rather than talk face to face. Bertran suppressed a sigh, knowing the strife between the king and queen would lead to nothing good. Yet he was bound to obey his liege’s request, and he went to the queen’s quarters, to wait for Eleanor to deign to speak to him. He paused a little before he entered those quarters to straighten his cloak, which seemed to have come into disarray as he’d gone up the stairs. The door to the queen’s quarters was slightly ajar and voices could be heard from behind it, the voices of Queen Eleanor’s ladies.

“Poor Lady Alicia,” one of the ladies was saying with feeling.

“Oh, poor Lady Alicia,” another harrumphed. “Better say, poor Sir Bertran… Everyone knows she still carries a torch for De Jarnac’s son.”

Bertran stood still, with an icy feeling in his heart. The lady, whose voice he now recognised as Lady Edith’s, went on with a sigh.

“I hope, for both their sakes that Lady Alicia will behave like a good and sensible woman, and put aside her foolish passion for Sir Erec. But who knows what she’ll do. I’m told that one is a woman as devious as she is haughty. Perhaps she’ll decide to keep De Jarnac as her lover. From what I could see when I entered their bedchamber, FitzRolf already seemed ensnared by her and she’ll be able to twist him around her little finger.”

At this moment, Queen Eleanor spoke sharply, urging the lady to keep her gossip to herself, and Bertran decided to make his presence known. Surely, Lady Edith was just a busybody, and one shouldn’t set great store on her words. Yet, after he’d conferred with the queen, he couldn’t shake a feeling of unease that stayed with him all day. There was a fire burning between Lady Alicia’s legs. What if that fire burned harder for De Jarnac than for him? And what could he do if his wife still carried a torch for De Jarnac? Should he put a mighty fire on her bottom if he caught her as much as glancing at her former suitor? He reasoned he could punish his wife if she behaved unseemly and flaunted herself to De Jarnac, but he could do nothing if she only thought of the man. Unseemly thoughts were not the same as unseemly deeds, were they? What if De Jarnac would always have her heart, without even possessing her body? What then?

The evening found him cross and loath to rejoin his home, although all morning he’d been thinking only of coming home to his bride. He lingered in the yard of his house for a while, leaning against the trunk of an apple tree. Unwittingly, his eyes fell upon the branches and twigs of the tree, and he recalled well that an apple tree switch had been employed at times for his own discipline as a child. He reasoned he needed to let his new wife know he would not stand for her to take a lover. He would plainly let her know he intended to discipline her harshly if she meant to be disloyal to him. So he cut a good switch, meaning to show it to his wife and tell her it would be used for future chastisements if the need ever arose. He hoped the mere threat of it would dissuade her from thinking of the handsome Erec de Jarnac ever again.

When he entered their bedchamber, he found Alicia had been waiting for him and she cast him an eager smile. Her smile faded when she saw what he’d been carrying in his hand, and Bertran suddenly felt like a brute. Of course, it was his right to chastise his wife, and a time may come when he might have to do so, but, since they’d wed, Lady Alicia had done nothing to deserve a punishment. She had not strayed yet, and it was unfair to assume she ever would. He now felt stupid and awkward, standing there, switch in hand. He hastily placed the switch in a corner, by the door, for his wife to see he had no intention of using it.

His lady was now looking upon him with a stormy look in her green eyes, yet she spoke courteously.

“I’ve waited upon you, my lord. I’ll call the serving girls to bring trays, as it is now too late for a repast in the solar.”

He nodded, in some embarrassment. The next hour passed in near silence. Alicia sat by him, graciously, as he had his meal, and later, when it was time for his bath, she attended to him just as the lady of the house should. Yet she flinched from him when he attempted to touch her, and he did not press, seeing the anger in her gaze.

From time to time, her eyes kept darting to the switch that remained in its corner. Bertran knew once he’d placed it there, it should remain there, until it was time to use it. He would look like a fool if he simply tossed it away. He sighed, thinking perhaps he’d not been that wrong in his first thought. The threat of the switch would make his wife think twice about straying. He would not be a blind, complacent husband, as Lady Edith had implied – and he meant his new wife to see this from the very start of their marriage.

Silence still loomed between them as they both readied for bed.

“Do you mean to chastise me now?” Lady Alicia suddenly asked, looking at him levelly.

She was now dressed in her night shift and Bertran suppressed his deep desire for her, knowing she was now very angry with him.

She cast a pointed look in the switch’s direction. Bertran shook his head.

“No. Not now…” he said rather awkwardly.

It was hard to keep his arousal at bay, and he strived to focus on what she was saying.

“Not now? Later then? When?” she asked him, and her voice sounded calm.

“I do not know,” he answered truthfully.

He did not know how to act around her. And she’d given him no true cause to punish her. Yet he was becoming so ensorcelled by her that he was beginning to fear what Lady Edith had said was true. She might be a cunning woman. Perhaps she did mean to deceive him. But would punishments be to any avail if she was indeed cunning and set on deceiving him? He glanced at her levelly. She did not strike him at all as a deceitful woman though, but as a truthful, plainspoken one.

He cleared his throat.

“Think upon it as a warning. Something that should prevent you from overstepping the boundaries. There’ll be no need of it if you’re a good wife and you stay within them.”

“What are those boundaries?” she asked him levelly.

“You should be respectful, faithful and honourable,” he told her just as levelly.

He could not quite forget she looked down upon his birth. So, perhaps he needed to emphasise he would have her respect.

She nodded, but there was ice in her voice as she spoke.

“As my husband, you should also be respectful, faithful and honourable in return,” she told him.

He looked at her with a frown. There was no doubt he meant to be respectful and honourable, and he would never break faith with his lady. But it was not for his wife to demand it of him. Wives were not supposed to make harsh demands, but ask graciously instead.

“I’ve already pledged myself to you. I do not mean to break my oath,” he told her in vexation.

“So did I. And I do not mean to break my oath either,” she countered, going to her trunk to fetch a comb. She sat herself in front of the mirror, unbraiding her long chestnut hair.

Bertran looked at her, mesmerized. Her hair was wondrous, and he longed to bury his hands in it.

He came to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, as she was brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She paid him no mind, as if he was not there. He frowned. It was not the welcome he’d expected from his eager new bride. Yet he had only himself to blame – he’d become angered by mere gossip.

“Where did you get the switch?” she asked him, deigning to speak to him at last.

“I’ve cut it from the apple tree in the yard,” he answered truthfully.

“I see,” she said levelly.

He could not resist, he took the comb away from her, and began brushing her long hair with long, slow movements.

“How many strokes?” he asked, having heard there were women who liked to give their hair one hundred strokes until they were satisfied it was untangled.

She frowned into the mirror.

“I thought you didn’t mean to use the switch tonight!” she told him.

She’d mistaken his meaning, and Bertran opened his mouth to set her at ease, and mend this rift that had appeared between them because of the accursed switch. But the defiant glare on his wife’s face made him think better on it. Was she disputing his right to discipline her? A mischievous thought came into his head.

“How many strokes will it take, do you reckon? How many strokes will it take to cure you of your defiance?” he asked softly, as he continued to comb her hair with one hand. His other hand was already caressing the side of her neck.

* * *

Alicia breatheddeep before she answered. She was now torn between anger and lust. Why would her husband want to use a switch on her now? Did he mean to treat her as his chattel, as a woman to be punished whenever she decided to speak her mind? And did he mean to whip her for nothing, just to assert his power over her? That part of her was angry. The other part of her was recalling the switching she’d witnessed yesterday. What had Master Reed’s wife said? That lovemaking was wondrous after a punishment… She recalled her wedding night and had to agree with Mistress Reed’s judgement. She suppressed a sigh, because in truth she was now truly angry with her husband. It seemed he thought himself her master, and it was not a thought that pleased her. She’d rather talk on how things stood in their marriage concerning his right to discipline, not be simply confronted with his decision. She thought upon his question with a frown. He’d asked how many strokes she thought would cure her of her defiance.

“I do not know,” she answered his question truthfully. “I reckon I shall find out anyway, isn’t that so, lord husband?”

When he didn’t answer, she went on:

“How will you do it then? Will you use the switch every time I say things you do not agree with? Every time I try to speak my mind?” she went on defiantly.

He’d already set his mind on spanking her, hadn’t he? So she might as well speak defiantly to him, since she had nothing further to lose by it.

“Will you call witnesses to this punishment? Will you call others to witness my pain and humiliation?” she asked him bitterly, recalling how shamed she’d felt in front of the whole court on their wedding day.

He placed the comb on the table, and then turned her to face him.

“No, wife. Never. I shall not shame you again in front of others. There’ll only be you and me if I punish you. And rest assured, I would never dream of chastising you for speaking your mind.”

His words were levelheaded and his voice earnest. And she thought upon how his hard hand upon her bottom had made her feel. She’d been painfully humiliated to be spanked in front of everyone, yet if the punishment took place when there were only the two of them, then there’d no longer be any humiliation. There would be only the spanking… And the spanking… Her heart began to beat frantically. She was torn between anger and lust. And the feeling was strangely stirring.

“So, what are you waiting for, lord husband?” she asked, feeling brazen and defiant.

She boldly hoisted her nightgown, showing him her bare buttocks. She already knew they no longer bore the marks of his spanking. They were pristine, but in a short while they would no longer be so, would they?

“Aren’t you going to fetch the switch?” she dared him.

Her husband muttered a short oath under his breath. He hoisted her on his shoulder, landing a stinging spank on her buttocks, which made her suppress a moan. He then carried her to the bed, seating himself on its edge, placing her face down across his knees.

Alicia braced herself for the spanking that was to follow, recalling only too well how strong and merciless his hand could be. But, instead of his hand on her bottom, she felt his finger slide gently inside her sex. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out in rapture.

“You’re wet, my lady wife,” he told her softly.

He spanked her with his free hand, while the finger of his other hand was still thrusting inside her. Alicia now moaned in earnest, while her sex filled with more delicious, honeyed liquid. There was just a faint sting in the spanks he was bestowing upon her and they felt more like a heated, brazen kiss than like a punishment. His hand upon her bottom was mischievous in its shameless caress, while the finger of his other hand was even more shameless. It slid in and out of her, in a rhythm that matched that of his spanking hand. When he paused, she gritted her teeth, knowing that soon she might utterly embarrass herself by climaxing in this undignified position. Why had he stopped spanking her?”

“This is no punishment for you, is it?” he asked, withdrawing his finger, which was now slick with moisture, and letting her off his lap.

Alicia stood up, in utter shame, with her cheeks flaming.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, not wanting to lie to him.

He said nothing, just perusing her with his gold-flecked eyes. Instead, he rose and cupped her face. He looked at her intently, then spoke against her lips, sending pleasurable tingles throughout her whole body.

“There is no punishment I have in store for you tonight. Only pleasure. And if it gives you pleasure to feel my hand spanking your bare bottom, then I shall strive to give you pleasure. But you need to ask for it.”

He paused, then calmly sat himself on the bed.

“So ask for it, lady wife. Ask me to spank you.”

She widened her eyes at him. She could not do it. A spanking was a punishment. What lady in her right mind asked to be chastised by her husband? Yet her sex was already painfully throbbing, and it seemed her bottom already ached for the punishing touch of his large hand.

“I… Husband, will you spank me?” she muttered, blushing even more fiercely than before.

The fiend grinned broadly.

“I couldn’t quite hear you, wife. What was it that you just asked of me?”

Alicia glared at him.

“You know too well, you’re not hard of hearing!” she countered in deep irritation.

He laughed.

“Defiant words from a wife to her lord,” he said, still grinning. “Come here, over my lap, then. Methinks a few good spanks will cure you of your defiance.”

Alicia found herself hesitating.

“Do you mean to spank me hard?” she asked, her heart beginning to thump in strange anticipation.

“Just come here, wife,” he told her, and she found herself obeying.

He hoisted her nightgown, rubbing her bottom, which must still bear the faint imprint of his first spanks. He then delivered a light spank on the crown of her buttocks. He continued to spank her lightly, slowly spreading a pleasant warmth in her bottom, and molten delight throughout her whole body.

Alicia noted he was counting as he spanked, in a warm, husky voice.

“…five… six… seven…”

She nearly swooned with pleasure when he reached number eight. It was then that he spanked harder, landing two rapid, stinging spanks right on her sit spot. He then stopped abruptly.

Alicia keenly felt his engorged cock pressing against her body.

“Enough,” he growled. “Just get on your hands and knees on the floor, like a good, dutiful wife should.”

Alicia found herself instantly obeying him, setting herself on her elbows and knees, and thrusting her spanked bottom towards him. He knelt behind her, positioning her to his liking. She moaned deeply when he entered her from behind, filling her to the hilt. Her bottom smarted somewhat from the spanks he’d delivered, and she just loved the way his front was making contact with her tender buttocks. Soon, she lost all coherent thought, as he hammered in and out of her, fierce and deep.

As they both climbed into bed after the lovemaking was done, Alicia found her face flaming again. Her husband lay down, embracing her and settling her head on his chest.

“Are you in pain, wife?” he asked, and there seemed to be some concern in his voice.

“From the spanking? No, husband, you spanked me lightly,” she told him in earnest.

“I wasn’t talking of the spanking. I loved you to the hilt, and hard. Do you feel pain now?”

She shook her head.

“A bit sore maybe, but in no true pain.”

He heaved a deep sigh.

“I’ll be more careful in the future…You have a sweet cunt, my lady, it’s easy to forget myself around you.”

She blushed, torn between pleasure and embarrassment, and she recalled how wantonly she’d moaned when she’d been lying across his lap and he was warming her bottom. She felt ashamed of herself.

“Husband… do you think ‘tis sinful?” she asked softly, her heart suddenly seized with anguish.

He held her tighter against him.

“Nay, I do not think lusty coupling is sinful.”

Still, her heart kept beating in anguish.

“Not coupling… not that… The spanking… I…” she paused, in utter shame.

Was she a wicked, unnatural woman for enjoying him spanking her? In the Hall, when everyone had been watching, she’d been ashamed and frightened. She had not enjoyed the punishment in itself, yet she had enjoyed the feeling of his hand spanking her. It was strange. And tonight, she’d been able to enjoy herself fully. There’d been no humiliation about the way he’d spanked her bare bottom. Only a delicious naughtiness. And only the two of them. A bond that seemed to have forged between two lovers, the one Mistress Reed had spoken about.

“I enjoyed it as well,” Bertran told her. “My hand chastising your luscious bottom. So I guess we’re both sinners, if this is a sin,” he added calmly.

“You seem unconcerned by it! But what if what we did is wrong?” she asked in anguish. “You were married before! Is this usual love play between spouses?”

He answered after a long pause.

“I’ve never spanked a woman before you, my lady. I had no cause to.”

She’d heard of his first wife. Everyone had called her a paragon of virtue. Alicia suddenly felt jealous, although she knew it was petty of her to think so of a woman who was no longer among the living.

“She must have been a good woman,” she muttered, in utter shame.

“She was,” he replied.

The anguish didn’t leave her.

“Do you think me wicked? Wicked for enjoying this?” she asked in earnest.

He sat up, making her sit up with him.

“Peace, wife,” he said gently. “I do not think you are wicked. My first wife was a good woman, but that doesn’t make my second bad. You’re different from her, is all.”

He buried a hand in her hair, bestowing upon her his comely smile.

“You like heated caresses, as do I. And I suppose that’s why you like me spanking you. There’s great heat in it and closeness between us that this brings. I see no shame or sin in it, and I doubt God Himself would call that sinful. God is wise.”

He kissed her gently, then lowered her on the bed, covering her with his strong body.

“My confessor is surely going to give me hard penance for my wanton behaviour. I think I’ll have to spend most of my days on my knees in prayer,” Alicia muttered between kisses.

He laughed.

“Amee, tell him you’ve been a dutiful wife and your husband’s strong hand will always make sure you remain so. He’ll be satisfied.”

She rolled her eyes at his carelessness for her immortal soul, but was soon lost in his kisses. She hazily realized he’d called her amee – his beloved. It was just an endearment, but it made her heart beat faster to think upon the word. He loved her very gently, moving in slow circles inside her and making her melt at the sweetness of it all. It was strange, wasn’t it? He could be both hard and gentle. Alicia sighed contentedly after they’d both found their release, and she closed her eyes, telling herself he may not be wrong. There was a rightness between them when they coupled which couldn’t persuade her that what they did was sinful. They were a good match. She frowned a little, recalling the switch only too well, and his warning he would use it if necessary. From his words, she’d understood he hadn’t chastised his first wife thus. Alicia knew too well the punishment he would deliver if she crossed him would not be love play, like the one he’d bestowed on her today. She had no doubt he would make sure it would be a harsh punishment and not pleasure. She fell asleep, vexed with herself. She didn’t feel angry with him anymore – not even at the prospect of a hard, merciless punishment. It was strange. It felt like she trusted he would never truly harm her.