Lost Love (7 page)

Suddenly, her horse raised its head and pricked up its ears. Arabella stopped breathing. Please, Lord, don't let them have caught up with her already. Surely not? She listened intently. Sure enough, she could hear the beat of several hooves, heading right in her direction. God's Bones! She had no time to put her boots back on. Instead, she kicked them behind a boulder, along with her socks, grabbed her horse's reins, and quickly led her behind the thicket. She stayed stock still and gently stroked her horse's nose to calm her and keep her quiet.

To her dismay, she saw John, Fendrel, and two knights arrive. They were only yards from her. John and Fendrel dismounted and walked over to the water's edge, examining the ground.

"A horse has definitely been here recently, milord," said Fendrel.

"Aye, and we know whose." John had hold of one of her boots. Damn! "She was here," he spat. His face was full of anger. She shivered. If he got hold of her, there was no telling what he would do. Mind you, she had a good idea! She felt sick. Her horse shifted a little, and she whispered soothing words to calm it. It snorted softly, and John's horse whinnied in response. Arabella held her breath, her eyes wide. Please, Lord, he wouldn't notice! It was not to be. John's eyes immediately shifted from his horse, to the dense thicket where his horse was staring, and he began walking straight towards her.

There was no way he wouldn't find her, so without hesitation, Arabella leapt on her horse's back and kicked it straight into a gallop. It responded instantly. She heard John shout her name, but she ignored him. She had to get away. She just had to. She kept her head down and urged her mount faster and faster.

John was beside himself with anger. His wife was totally without discipline. She was wayward to the point of madness. When he got hold of her, he was going to make certain she never did this again. She had to learn to obey him, and by hook or by crook, she would.

He ordered Fendrel to flank her on the right side, whilst he moved in on the left. Her horse was fast, but not as fast as their big stallions. Reaching forward, he grabbed her reins. She slapped at his hands, but it made no difference. Between the two of them, they brought her horse to a standstill within minutes. She struggled and tried to kick out at them.

"Arabella! Desist!" John ordered, but she was akin to a wild woman. "Fendrel, take hold of her horse."

Fendrel took control, whilst John grabbed Arabella straight off her mount and plonked her in front of him on his saddle. She struggled like a fury, but he bound his strong arms around her, imprisoning her—but that didn't stop her. She tried knocking her head against him and kicking his shins.

"By the rood, Arabella! I am warning thee!" He struggled to hold her down.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked. To say she was angry would be an understatement. He had never seen her so vexed.

He took one arm off her, to steady his horse that was becoming agitated, and Arabella immediately took the opportunity to elbow him in the side. He gasped. "Right, enough is enough! I warned thee!"

With a bit of difficulty, he dismounted, bringing his struggling errant wife with him. She was cursing loudly in between shrieking like a banshee. He manhandled her over to a boulder, and, as he sat down, he pulled her straight over his lap. For propriety's sake, he kept her skirts down, but his hand laid into her backside with big swinging strikes.

"Get off me! I hate thee!" she cried loudly.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Behave, Arabella! This is no way for thee to act! Thee will show me some respect!"
Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Respect! Ha! What dost thou understand?"

Smack! Smack! Smack!

He administered several more swats, before she finally stopped kicking and lay resigned over his lap.

"If I release thee, willst thou promise to behave?"

She nodded, and he finally allowed her up off his lap, but kept a firm hold on her wrist. "Now we will return to the castle, whereupon, thee will apologize to Lady Isabel for using her so abominably. And then, I am going to give thee such a thrashing, that thee will never disobey me again. Dost thou understand?"

She looked at him sullenly, and then at the ground, before nodding.

"Oh, and thee will also apologize to Fendrel for thy behaviour."

She gasped and shot Fendrel an exasperated look. "Wherefore!"

"Two reasons. One because I said so, and the other because he is there for thy protection. He searched high and low for thee, so thou hast wasted his time."

"He is not there for my protection; he is there to watch my every move!" she retorted.

"Either way…thee will apologize." His look was fierce, and she knew that if she didn't comply, then her backside was in for an even bigger roasting than it was already. Slumping her shoulders, she walked over to Fendrel and told him she was sorry. Her eyes belied her words, but Fendrel didn't seem concerned. He nodded politely and looked away. John mounted his horse and held his hand out to her. "Arabella, come hither."

Reluctantly, she walked over to him. In one swift move, he had her seated in front of him, his strong arm around her waist holding her steady. They rode back to the castle without saying another word.

* * *

Inside the great hall, Isabel was calmly playing a game of chess with Justin. They looked up when John and Arabella entered. Justin's eyes were full of incrimination towards Arabella. Isabel's held pity. Arabella felt ashamed. Mayhap she shouldn't have used Isabel for her own gain, but trapped in such a marriage, wouldn't Isabel have done the same?

She felt John's hand on the small of her back, propelling her forward. "Thou hast something to say to Isabel, dost thou not?"

She stepped forward and approached Isabel. "I am sorry for my behaviour today, Isabel. Prithee forgive me."

Isabel's face softened. "Of course, Arabella. Thou had thy reasons and 'tis not for me to question them."

She was too forgiving. Would that she could have such a forgiving nature as her. She had a feeling Justin was still looking at her with disapproval, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Instead, she sat down behind a pillar, just out of his vision.

"Arabella, I wish to speak to thee above stairs," John stated.

She licked her lips nervously and planted her hands beneath her thighs. "Wherefore?"

"Do not question my orders again, Arabella." John didn't look happy with her. His frown was fierce, and her stomach flipped nervously. "The two of us
are
going to hath a discussion. If thou dost wish to hath it herewith, then by all means, I will accommodate thee." His look spoke volumes.

She gave him a disgruntled look, knowing what his
discussion
would entail. She shifted in her seat. If she argued further, then her punishment would be longer, and it would be witnessed by everyone. With a slump to her shoulders, she arose from the seat and followed him to their chamber.

* * *

John strode behind his wife, whilst she made her way to their bed chamber. She had behaved badly today on many fronts. Questioning his authority in the presence of a guest was one of them. She was his wife and should obey him in all things. His lips thinned with anger. She had so much to learn.

She walked into their chamber and predictably placed herself on the other side of the room. He casually shrugged off his doublet and threw it on a chair, before rolling up his shirt sleeves in preparation for her spanking. He glanced in her direction, to find her eyes darting about the room seeking escape. But it was futile. He intended to make her rue her actions today and think twice before acting so again!

Swiftly he moved towards her. She backed herself into the corner and placed her hands against the wall.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, milady. What is it to be?"

She glared at him. "This is unfair!"

"Nay, 'tis not." He took hold of her wrist and began to pull her forward, but she resisted.

"Nay, prithee husband hast thou not punished me enough?"

"If thou art talking about thy earlier spanking, then nay, that was not nearly enough." He waggled his finger in her face. "What thee did today was wrong on several accounts. Not only did thee involve one of our guests in thy quest to escape, but thee also questioned my authority in front of them. So nay, I hath not punished thee properly, but rest assured I will!"

He pulled her straight out of the corner and threw her face down over his lap when he sat on the edge of the bed. Without preamble, he threw her skirts over her head, revealing her rosy pink bottom—so ripe for a good spanking.

She kicked her legs and threw her hand around to try and stop him, but he slapped it away, capturing her thighs with his own. He lay his hand flat across her cheeks and caressed the silky soft skin. "Thou will never escape me, Arabella, and each time thee dost try, I will spank this pretty backside of thine until thee see reason."

His raised his hand and brought it crashing down on both cheeks at once. The flesh jiggled beneath his palm, and he was rewarded with a loud shriek from his wife. Again and again his hand rose and fell, the slaps reverberating around the chamber, intermingling with Arabella's cries and whimpers for him to cease. But he heeded her not. She needed a sound spanking and that is exactly what she was going to get.

* * *

Arabella's bottom was heating up like a furnace. Each stroke became more and more painful. Why had she tried to escape him? She should have known better. His big, powerful hand bit into her backside, creating wave upon wave of pain. She jolted forward with each impact and begged him to stop, but he carried on, scolding and lecturing her in between swats.

"Prithee, milord, I hath learned my lesson! Truly!"

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"I will decide when I think thou art contrite, milady."
Smack! Smack! Smack!
"And we are a long way off yet!"

He laid into her bottom with renewed vigor, until Arabella could hardly think straight. Her moans and cries did nothing to deter him. Her bottom blazed, and just when she thought she could take no more, he finally stopped. She lay panting over his lap, her mind befuddled. He pulled her up and sat her on his lap. She sucked in a breath and winced. "Oh, that hurts!"

"Good! It is well deserved. Now, we are going to go back down, and thee are going to put on a brave face in front of our guests. Dost thou understand?"

She nodded miserably. "Aye."

"And when we eat, thee will sit on a hard chair with no cushion."

"Milord!"

"It is part of thy punishment, milady." He captured her face with one large hand. "Do not complain, for I will hath no hesitation in throwing thy skirts up and administering a sound spanking in front of our guests. The choice is thine!"

He released her face and hoisted her onto the bed next to him. "I will go on ahead, to give thee time to compose thyself. If thou dost not appear in ten minutes, woe betide thee!"

When he had gone, Arabella lay face down on the bed and punched the pillows. The man was a tyrant! Why was it her fate to be married to such a domineering man? She buried her face in the coverlet and thumped the bed angrily, vowing one day she would indeed escape him.

Four months later…

"Pack enough clothing for a week's journey, for we depart for Arnscroft within the hour," John declared to his wife. He had just finished getting dressed, and she was watching him whilst lying in bed.

Arabella's eyes widened. "Thou art taking me home?"

He fixed her with a stare. "Nay, milady. Thy home is herewith. We will visit with thy father, and thee can tell him of thy impending motherhood."

She fiddled with the ribbons on her nightgown. Her pregnancy had been confirmed with the castle physician only yester eve, and already John sought to tell her father. "He will not welcome thee when he finds out who thou truly art! He will seek to annul our marriage!"

"Nay, milady. He will do no such thing."

"What makes thee so certain?"

"For if our marriage is annulled, thy child will be a bastard. No father would wish that upon his grandchild, or bring such shame upon his daughter."

"It would not be a bastard, because we are married!" she protested.

"Not if I reveal my true identity to the priest. I married under a false name—therefore, in the eyes of the law, we are not truly married. Thy child will come into this world a bastard, should thy father choose to reveal my birth name."

Arabella paled. She would not wish that upon her unborn child.

John continued, "Besides which, I wouldst never allow it. Thee doth carry my legitimate child, and I will take care to ensure that does not change."

"What if thee cannot stop him?" she stated quietly.

"He will not say a word. He loves thee too much."

"Thou seem so certain."

He walked up to the side of her bed, and placing a hand on her chin, he made her look at him. "Naught he can say or do will take thee and my child away from me."

Arabella frowned. His look was fierce. It was almost as though he wanted to keep her by his side, yet she would have thought leaving her with a false marriage and a bastard child would have been a great revenge for him. Mayhap his heart was not as black as he made out.

Her spirits rose. It would be so lovely to see her father again, and visit her old home. He would certainly be mad when he found out about Ulric, but with a new life coming into the world, mayhap he would mellow.

John covered her lips with his, demanding she respond. She did so without hesitation, her heart fluttering in her breast. He slowly released her and looked deep into her eyes. "I will send Esme up to aid thy packing. I wish to leave within the hour."

When he had gone, she placed a hand on her slightly rounded abdomen, wondering what the future held for her and her child. She hoped her father would see reason.

* * *

Three days later…

It was late evening when Arabella rode into Arnscroft Castle alongside her husband. She was sorely tired from their long journey and needed rest. Brom had given permission for the drawbridge to be raised. He came down himself, to greet them in the inner bailey.

"Milady, Arabella!" He grinned at her. Seeing his obvious joy, she felt a tear slip down her face. It was so wondrous to see him. Brom turned to John and nodded. "Milord. I hope thy journey was without mishap."

"Aye. Is Lord Dufour within?"

"Aye. Let my lads see to thy horses, and I will settle thee in. Dost thou intend to stay long?"

"A few days."

Brom was staring at him oddly. Arabella wondered if he already recognised him, not as John of Terryn, but as Ulric, for he was without his beard. He glanced at Arabella, his face puzzled, but she refrained from telling him the truth. She wanted to see her father first.

John dismounted and leaving his horse in Brom's care, walked over to aid Arabella. She dropped down into his arms, fully expecting him to let her go. Instead, he entwined his arm around her waist and guided her towards the keep. Brom quickly caught up with them, just as Arabella's father made an appearance. "Arabella!" He opened his arms, and she ran straight into them. "Oh, how I hath missed thee!" He hugged her tightly, and she revelled in the warmth of his embrace. She felt his cheek against her hair. "It hath been too long, my beloved daughter."

She pulled away from him and looked up into his face, wondering how to tell him about Ulric. But she knew by the way he was staring at John, that he had already recognized him as such. His body tensed and his face tightened. "Ulric! What dost thou do here?"

John pulled Arabella away from her father and looked down into her face, tilting her chin, so she had to look at him. He darted a glance at Lord Dufour. "Thee banished me once, unjustly and now I return…as thy son-in-law!"

"My son-in-law! What nonsense dost thou speak?" Her father looked at her. "Arabella?"

Arabella sighed heavily. "He speaks the truth, father. He disguised himself as Lord John of Terryn and took me to wife under false pretences. He wished to seek his revenge."

"Revenge? For what, may I ask?" Her father's voice shook with anger. "What gave thee the right to lie to me? My daughter is the most precious thing in my life. I would never hath allowed a marriage betwixt thee!"

John's face was impassive as he replied, "When thou banished me from thy lands, 'twas unjust. Arabella told thee a lie, and I vowed revenge upon her. 'Tis why I changed my name, for I knew thee wouldst never hath allowed a marriage betwixt her and I."

"Nay, I would never hath. But 'tis no matter. I will apply to the King for the marriage to be annulled forthwith." He turned to her. "Daughter, go to thy chambers. Ulric, thee will leave my castle. Thou art not welcome here."

John folded his arms. "Arabella will stay by my side, for she is due to have my child in the spring."

Arabella closed her eyes, but opened them again, when she felt her father's hand on her sleeve. "Doth he speak the truth, daughter?"

She nodded and watched her father's expression turn, from anger, to resignation. He stared down at her. "What dost thou wish to do? Dost thou desire to remain with Ulric?"

Arabella glanced at him, unsure of her feelings. She would love to resume her previous life. But if their marriage was annulled, she would be bringing a bastard into the world. She would not wish such a burden on the new life growing within her. She stared at John. Would she miss him if they were to part? Aye, she reasoned she would. For all his faults, she still knew that she would, one day, find the youth he had once been. He had been hurt beyond reason. Mayhap in time, she could heal that hurt and build a future for them and their child.

"I wouldst remain married for the child's sake, father."

Her father ran a hand over his beard. "Very well. Come inside the great hall and I will order some refreshments."

"I would rather go to my chamber, father. The ride has left me weary."

"Of course, dear child. Mary will bring thee something to eat and drink when thou hath rested." He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It will also give Ulric and me time to talk."

* * *

Once settled by the warming fire, Lord Dufour settled back in his chair and stared hard at John. "Thou hath become hardened, Ulric."

"Aye. When a youth is thrown into the wilderness he hath two choices: to be eaten up by the wolves of society or fight back and bare his own teeth. I chose the latter."

"I had good reason to oust thee from my castle, Ulric. I regret it not."

John's jaw tightened. "Thee arranged a sham of a marriage betwixt Mirabelle and Merek, when she truly loved me. Thou broke her heart, and mine."

Lord Dufour raised an eyebrow. "I cannot believe, that after all these years, thou still thinketh I wronged thee. Mirabelle didst not love thee. She only had eyes for Merek. Any love thou thought betwixt thee was just a figment of thy imagination." He shook his head. "I pity thee, Ulric. Thou dost harbour a love unrequited."

"Thou misunderstand me. I hath no love for Mirabelle now. I am hardened against ever loving anyone again."

"What of my daughter? Dost thou not love her?"

"Arabella hath been given what she deserved—a loveless marriage. As she denied me, I will deny her." He stood up, his face dark. He had wanted to hurt Lord Dufour, but the revenge he had waited so long for did not give him the satisfaction he had thought. Instead, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Sitting at the hearth had brought back many pleasant memories, but that one dark day overshadowed all of them. Yet even so, he was overcome with feelings of sadness more than hatred.

His look dark, he bit out, "My name is now Lord John of Terryn. Ulric is no more. Prithee respect that."

He strode to the door just as one of the maids came in, carrying a tray of food and drink. Grabbing a flagon of wine off the tray, he made his up to the chamber without saying another word.

* * *

Arabella was sitting by the fire in the bed chamber, a blanket over her lap, delicately eating a slice of bread and honey when John strode in. She eyed him cautiously. Taking the opposite seat, he threw himself down and took a deep draught from the flagon of wine.

Arabella picked up a goblet and handed it to him. "Would this not be better, milord?"

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a wry smile. "Art thou implying I am uncouth?"

She shrugged delicately. "I am merely offering thee a more suitable drinking vessel, milord. I would not for one moment imply thou art uncouth." He seemed out of sorts. One minute he looked angry, the next resigned. "What did my father hath to say?"

"I do not wish to speak of it." He gazed into the fire, his expression brooding.

She chewed silently on the rest of her bread, studying him from beneath her lashes. He was so handsome; she could look at him all day. His shoulder length hair and traces of stubble accentuated his chiseled face reflecting in the firelight. What had her father said to him that caused the furrow on his brow?

Once again, she ventured to ask. He swung his gaze onto her, his eyes dark. "Dost thou wish to vex me, wife?"

She paled. "Nay! I just wanted to know…"

"Enough!"

Her mouth snapped shut. He was angry, and obviously, he had no intention of discussing his conversation with her. She would wait until the morrow and speak with her father. Perhaps he could tell her what had passed betwixt them.

Finishing her bread, she sipped on some mead. The warmth soon filled her belly, and she threw off the blanket. "I am to bed, milord. The journey has left me weary."

He didn't answer her, just sat staring at the flames. She walked over to the table and washed her face and hands with water from the jug. She ran a cloth over her teeth, using a small amount of burnt rosemary to clean them. Unlacing her bodice, she slipped out of her dress and petticoats and put on her long nightgown before padding barefoot to her bed. The bed was cold, and she shivered beneath the coverlet, burrowing down to create some warmth. Suddenly, she was enveloped by two large muscular arms. John pulled her against him. He was naked. "Thou dost shiver, milady. I wouldst keep thee warm."

Without hesitation, she snuggled against his broad chest. He was warm as toast, and she soon found herself warmed through. She changed position, so she was on her side, and they were spooning. His huge arm wrapped snugly around her waist making her feel safe and secure. His hand moved to her abdomen, and he splayed his fingers over her rounded belly. She felt his breath fan her face as he spoke softly, "I can feel thy babe within."

"Aye, milord. 'Tis showing already."

The intimate contact made her breathing grow shallow and her nether regions ache with longing. She wanted his hand to move lower, to show her the affection she craved from him. As though he could read her thoughts, she felt his hand run down the length of her thigh, before he gathered up the hem of her nightgown and slowly drew it up her body. She closed her eyes, as a wave of desire washed over her. God's bones, she wanted him inside her. His hand stroked her bottom, slipping between her thighs to seek out her hidden warmth. She gasped softly, when his fingers located her soft womanly folds and gently rubbed to and fro, until she was almost delirious with want. He moved his hand back and lifted her thigh, moving his hips forward, until she felt his stiff member seeking entrance. She shifted to give him easier access, gasping softly when he pushed himself inside her.

He paused to give her time to adjust to his body. "Am I hurting thee? I do not wish to harm the babe."

"Nay." she whispered. "It will do no harm."

Slowly he began to move, building up the pressure inside her, stroke by stroke, until she thought she would surely die. She arched her back against him wanting more. He responded instinctively, his thrusts becoming more powerful, until a few moments later, the world exploded around her–a thousand stars shooting through her mind. She let the waves of ecstasy wash over her, relishing the intimate contact. With a deep groan he climaxed shortly afterwards, spilling his seed inside her with one final thrust.

Arabella panted softly, regaining her composure. John didn't attempt to withdraw; instead he seemed to hold her closer. She didn't bother making small talk. There was no need. Contented, she fell asleep in his arms.