She tried to doze off because it was not yet dawn and she understood they had a journey ahead of them tomorrow. Even if she was lying on her belly, her bottom burned and itched from the nettle spanking she’d received, and she rubbed it in vexationwith her free hand, cursing both Rowena and her fiend of a husband in her mind. She began to reason it was no wonder Rowena had run away from a man so adept at chastening a woman’s behind. But then she also reasoned her own late husband would have treated her with vicious blows and cuffs for something far less grievous than what Rowena had done. She could not help but understand that Master Archer may be a harsh man, but he was not a cruel, senseless one.
By his breathing and moving by her side, she came to see he also could not sleep.
“When do we leave?” she whispered wearily.
“Right at dawn, since it seems there’s no use spending more time on this pallet when neither of us can get a wink of sleep,” he answered with a sigh.
“Fine,” Emma said, trying to make her voice acquiescent.
She would strive to seem subdued because at this time there was nothing to be gained by showing herself rebellious, other than, she feared, a spanking which would leave her weak kneed and utterly shamed.
CHAPTER 3
Arthen cursed darkly, under his breath, as he felt his wife’s lush body pressed against his own. He’d had her ride pillion with him as they were heading to their home in Nottingham, where he’d set up his school of archery. Rowena was silent and was acting subdued, but he knew her better than that. She was a most mischievous creature and he should have a care if he were to return her home safely. From time to time, he heard her sigh and moan, and could not help but sneer in grim satisfaction because it was her sore bottom that was making her act so. His cock stirred whenever he thought of the spanking he’d given her, and he’d stopped trying to make himself feel guilty for it. She was his wife and he lusted after her, even more so now that they were reunited. So he supposed it was natural to feel aroused whenever he thought about her lush, chastened bottom.
He frowned, knowing he had no inkling how their married life would unfold next. Rowena had lain with other men after she’d run from him, he knew only too well. And he did not feel it was wise to lie with her ever again, since she’d deceived him so. He no longer loved her, although he still cared for her fate because she was the mother of his child. He then supposed itwould be wrong of him to lie with a woman he no longer loved and that he was no longer entitled to call her his true wife. Perchance Rowena herself would no longer wish to lie with him. And he would not force a woman to bed him against her will, although they were still bound in front of God.
They made a stop past noon, to stretch their legs and break bread, and he watched Rowena rub her bottom furiously when they dismounted. He frowned, because, while he was fully aware she deserved far worse than what she’d gotten, he did not truly enjoy causing her pain. She must be saddle sore, and that soreness would extend if not properly tended at this time.
“Come, wife,” he beckoned at her after they’d had their repast by the creek where they’d stopped. “Let me look at you.”
Rowena did not budge from where she was. She’d had her repast standing up, which meant her chastened bottom had been made worse by the friction of the saddle, although he’d been quite careful to set a mild pace to their journey.
He looked at her pensively, then went to fetch the small jar of salve he carried in his bag. It was an ointment for cuts and bruises he had from a canny woman, and which had proved more than helpful in his journeys. Now he supposed it would serve to nurse his wife’s spanked bottom and perchance alleviate some of the soreness she now felt.
He sat himself down on the ground, patting his lap.
“Come here,” he called to Rowena, who was glancing at him with a wary look in her eyes.
She was indeed acting differently than before she’d run away from home. Her movements and bearing were restrained and shy, as they’d not ever been. And she’d been silent throughout their journey, which was unlike the Rowena he’d come to know, who loved to chatter and argue over every little thing in their life. Perhaps the spanking had served a purpose indeed. Arthen bit into his lip, staring away from his wife, because he’d begun moreand more to think he’d erred by not chastising her in any way during the three years they’d been married. The only spanking he’d brought himself to give her had ended up as love play, and Rowena had never feared he’d punish her for her transgressions because he’d never done so. And now the new way in which his woman was acting towards him was making him think that further chastisements might help her let go of her mad, reckless ways. Or was it all a clever act? Was Rowena only pretending she was subdued?
“Come,” he repeated, cocking an eyebrow and thinking to test her newfound obedience to him.
“You want to spank me!” she called to him in an accusing voice.
Her voice sounded somewhat different than he recalled. Whenever she’d been upset with him, Rowena had spoken in a way that reminded him of a petulant child. But this new, different Rowena seemed more woman than ever to him—composed and strangely dignified in a way he hadn’t thought Rowena would ever learn to be. He sighed within himself, dismissing the thought and recalling how utterly uncaring and fickle his wife really was. That he lusted for her even more than before did not change things.
“Come here, woman. You won’t be spanked, I vow,” he told her, pointing to the jar of salve he’d placed at hand.
“Oh...”
Rowena’s eyes fell upon it and there was relief in her voice.
“I’ll tend to you, wife,”Master Archer spoke, and Emma found she loved his voice which was deep and husky and quite warm when he wasn’t angered.
She studied his unhandsome face, which looked like that of a bird of prey, and suddenly found it enticing. And she could very well see how Rowena might have wished to marry this man. She’d heard commoners oft married for love. Had Rowena ever loved this man? And why had she left him? Had things between them grown truly sour?
“Nay, I am fine. I need no tending!” she protested, knowing she’d do anything to avoid the stirring touch of a man who was another woman’s husband.
“Need I threaten a true spanking to get you to come to me?” he countered, but Emma thought to hear teasing laced within his threat.
Unwittingly, she soon found herself striding to him, trying to reason within herself that it was better she comply with what he wished. It would make her later escape less arduous because he would believe he had subdued her. Yet soon she had cause to repent the haste with which she’d trusted him, because he swiftly draped her across his lap, as his hand came to hoist her skirts.
“Wait! You said you wouldn’t sp–”
“Shush. I only mean to salve your behind.”
Her cheeks were already flaming, and Emma did not feel reassured by his words, nor by the not ungentle touch of his fingers upon her poor scorched bottom. Master Archer’s fingers lightly brushed over the reddened, itching skin of her buttocks and thighs. And for a moment she thought she’d die of shame. But only for a moment.