“Stay just as you are,” he said. “No rubbing away the pain this time. Now, I’m going to get a warm cloth to wash you, since I used a ‘wild’ switch. Don’t move until I return.”
She wanted to rub away the sting so badly, but she knew she must obey him or get in more trouble. The only movement she did was to press her face into the bed so some of her tears could be dried in the bedsheets. Cool air blew against her exposed bottom, reminding her of her nakedness and making each stinging welt hurt even more.
When he came back, he did too thorough a job sponging her with the cloth, going over each welt on her cheeks and thighs. Now she wasn’t only hurt; she was embarrassed. Once finished, he replaced her skirts and assisted her down from his rack of torture, the very rack she’d been sleeping on all this time.
“Come sit with me now,” he said.
She wiped her face with her hands and brushed back the wisps of hair that had escaped her day’s coiffure. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit,” she said sullenly.
He returned a look that told her he would certainly repeat the spanking she’d just received if she spoke to him in a poor tone. Then he went to the window. “Stand with me then.”
She joined him, feeling her petticoat brush her sensitive backside with every step. They both looked out at the surrounding woods she’d been punished for exploring. Well, not exploring. Exploring alone.
“Repeat after me,” he said. “Mrs. Loring, I would like to go out to the woods.”
She stifled a pout. “Mrs. Loring, I would like to go out to the woods.”
“There, you see.” He turned to her so his stern, amber-gold gaze bore into hers. “That is all you need to do. She will arrange for the rest, and whomever she sends to accompany you, you may tell them to walk as soundlessly as possible so as not to scare the animals. Do we need to practice that, too?”
“No.” She sighed. “I have learned my lesson.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m sorry it was such a painful one.”
Jane suspected he was not sorry at all. He was too adept at punishment to dislike it. As she stood beside him, he brushed his hand over the back of her skirts, right across her tender arse cheeks, as if basking in his craft. Oh yes, he enjoyed discipline. She must work harder to ensure he had less opportunities to mete it out.
“Come closer, Jane,” he said. “Let me hold you and make things better.”
He would not let her pull away, and in truth, she didn’t want to pull away when he offered his embrace. He held her close, stroking a hand up her arm as she rested her cheek upon his chest. She wished she could go to bed and let the day end, and even as she thought it, she knew she wanted to go to bed the way she had the past few weeks now…with him. How was that possible, after what he’d just done to her? She supposed it was the smell of him, the feel of his body…she’d come to know them so well.
“There now.”
He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her cheeks, which was when she realized she was crying again. She looked up from her place against his chest and received a sympathetic smile in return. “There, sweet girl,” he murmured, drying her tears as even more flowed. “Everything will be all right.”
He stroked her hair while she cried into his shirt. It was not from the pain. Her bottom still throbbed, but that was not it. She cried because even now, even after what he’d done to her, she was in love with her husband and addicted to his touch. She’d grown dependent on his strength and his companionship, and the encompassing way he held her even when she was in disgrace.
When her deep sobbing lessened to milder crying, he drew back and tilted up her chin. “Would you like to come to my study until dinner, Jane? Curl up on the divan and read a book while I finish my correspondence?”
“Yes,” she said with a sniffle. “I would like that.”
“Then we’ll know you’re keeping out of trouble, won’t we?”
“Perhaps,” she said, still a little sullen.
He smiled and leaned to kiss her, teasing her lips until she couldn’t help but respond.
“Choose a book from that pile upon your nightstand,” he said when they parted, “and I’ll tell Mrs. Loring to bring us some tea.”
Chapter Nine
Loving and Wanting
They spent the rest of that afternoon in his study, but Townsend wasn’t able to get his usual amount of work done. His concentration wavered every time Jane shifted or sighed, or stole a look at him when she didn’t think he was watching.