Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Elizabeth.”
“No, it is.” She came to stand by the table, knowing, as he did, that this nocturnal visit was improper in the extreme—even more improper than the spankings he’d given her at lessons. She spread her arms and made an agonized noise of frustration. “The truth is, Lord Fortenbury doesn’t want to marry me. He only wants to curry Papa’s favor and benefit from his influence.”
“Lisbet—”
“And any other man would be the same! That’s all any of them care about—power, wealth, and social standing. Not me. Fortenbury lets me know in sharp glances and cutting asides that I am not good enough to be his wife.”
“You, not good enough? For that imperious, frowning proselytizer? By God—”
“At least no one calls him a witch, or a spiritualist,” she cried, stalking to the fire, standing with her back to him. “I know there are whispers about this marriage, but he might be good for me in time, good for my reputation.”
“You’ve no need to worry about your reputation,” said August hotly. “You’re a lovely, virtuous, upstanding young woman. An upstanding young woman who really ought to be in bed at the house,” he added. “My servant won’t talk, but if anyone else discovers you here…”
“I know. And I came here anyway. Why can’t I just behave normally?” She turned to face him. Her dark hair, loosed for sleep, streamed over her shoulders and down her dark red cloak. “I cannot be normal, and everyone knows it. I see things, I hear things, I know things I’m not meant to know. I try not to, but I do, and now Fortenbury believes I’m made of devilry.”
“Nonsense,” he said, though she had the appearance of a dark, fierce sorceress at present, wrapped in blood-hued velvet. “The devil wouldn’t know what to do with you. You’re sunlight and kindness, and good things.”
“It doesn’t matter, if my future husband thinks otherwise. What if he changes his mind about marrying me?”
He tried to moderate her dramatics with level, calm words. “Your father set some well-advised boundaries in how your future husband should speak to you, should treat you. He did the right thing, speaking to Fortenbury, and if that causes him to ‘change his mind,’ then perhaps it’s better to be—”
“Alone? Rejected? Unloved?”
“You’re not unloved.” He must set her straight on that point. “Many people love you. Fortenbury may not love you yet, but that’s his shortcoming.”
“No, it’s my shortcoming. It’s my nature that’s bad and wrong and—” She stepped closer and gazed at him, eyes welling with tears. “And I want you to spank me for it.”
“What?” This was the reason she’d come to him at this hour? “You’ve done nothing wrong, Lisbet. It’s Fortenbury who’s got himself on your father’s bad side.”
“Because of me, because I spoke of the fires in the valley in front of him and all his family.” She began to pace again. “I can’t think of anything but how I’ve cocked up our courtship and made him wary of me. Now I’m afraid for my wedding and my future and—” She closed her eyes and made fists at her sides. “Why did I have to say I saw those fires?”
“Because you saw them. You didn’t realize the rest of us couldn’t. For God’s sake, come here. Come stand right here.”
She crossed to where he stood, wrestling with his inappropriate urges. The disciplinarian in him wanted to take her in hand, to bend her over and give her the spanking she wanted. Not for Fortenbury’s actions, but because she was so wrongheaded about her worth.
“Look at me, Elizabeth.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Look at me.”
The poor thing did, stifling a piteous sob.
“You’re asking me to spank you when you’ve done nothing wrong, and I won’t. You don’t deserve it.”
“I do deserve it.”
He used a corner of his sleeve to wipe her tears, but more came, falling from her weary green eyes.
“I wish I could be different than I am,” she said. “I must try harder to be proper and…and normal.” Her voice broke on the last word, along with his self-control. He drew her small, trembling form against his body and hugged her tightly, propriety be damned.
“You are normal,” he told her. “You’re perfect as you are.”
“No,” she cried against his shoulder. “I’m not. Please, if you could give me a good, hard spanking the way you used to at piano lessons, it would take these horrible feelings away, or at least make them more manageable.” She gave a great sniffle. “I know, back then, it was just a silly game, but I need a real spanking now. A hard, real spanking.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Please, August! I would feel chastened…and better.”
He could think of a dozen reasons to spank her. She’d snuck from the house and was here where she should not be, in the darkness and the night. She was saying things that were utter rubbish, holding herself at fault for Fortenbury’s disdain. She was spankable as a rule, and when she shook in his embrace, so vulnerable and tearful…