The Mercenary's Claim (4 page)

The man gave a knowing chuckle and went about his work, leaving Kirsten to mumble to herself on the way out the door, “The thought of having his child leaves me less likely to sleep tonight than when I came into your shop.” With unconcealed sarcasm, she added, “Thank you so much for all your help taking care of the problem.”

When she returned to the castle proper, no sooner had she entered the gate than she was met by a worried looking Greta. “We’ve been searching for you, my lady. Your lord has come and all! Hurry!”

“And why should I hurry? No matter when I arrive, I’ll still be just as married. Let him wait.” Kirsten, thwarted in her errand and now confronted with what seemed to her like the executioner’s call at sunrise, stumped up the servants’ stairs to her quarters, causing two of the maids to drops their trays in surprise.

Greta trailed behind her mistress, pleading with her all the while. “Come now, my lady. Whatever will Lord Gustav say if you make him wait? He’ll be ever so vexed with you. Please, hurry!”

The sight of her mother waiting at her door soothed Kirsten not one bit. “Where have you been, my daughter?” Lady Helena demanded. “He’s come and wants to see you. I tried to persuade him to—”

Kirsten pushed past her without pause. “I’ve been out, enjoying the last few minutes of my freedom before I’m to be buried alive in the countryside with that oaf. I would think you would understand that and not be after me every minute of the day with your requests. You have servants to do your bidding, unlike my pitiful household. I’ll be the serf soon enough, so quit bothering—”

“Please excuse us, Lady Helena,” said a voice from inside her chamber. A moment later, Gustav put his head out from behind a curtain on her bed where to her chagrin he had obviously made himself comfortable. “I’ll bring my new bride down to dinner shortly.” His face sported that maddening grin, but his eyes gave her pause.

When her mother had escaped in what Kirsten considered a particularly cowardly manner, Gustav continued. “Greetings, wife. I trust you’ve had a pleasant fortnight. You will now tell me what you rudely wouldn’t tell her. Where have you been?”

“To the glovers in town. I thought I had better make sure I had plenty, since there will be no one within twenty miles to make a decent glove once we remove ourselves to the back of beyond.”

“The glovers, indeed. Then where are your purchases? And with what gold did you make them? I never gave you any. You’ll have to stop wasting money I don’t have.”

She started to protest. “I ordered them on my father’s account. He can provide me with the necessities of life. If you cannot—”

Gustav spoke over her without hearing a word she said. “And you’ll have to stop lying to me. I know where you went and why you went there. You went to buy a potion to make sure my seed would not take root inside you.”

“I did no such thing! I only wanted a sleeping draught!”

“My man heard you in the street,” Gustav growled. “He said, in your defense, that he hadn’t heard you well and that you held nothing in your hands, nor does he think such a potion exists. I only want you to remember, your job is to bring me social status and produce me heirs.”

“Of course, my lord. I know my duty. And I like children. I want them, certainly. I was just… vexed, is all. I would never try to keep from having a child.”

“Even my child?”

His anger was cooling. She could hear it in his voice. Confident that he believed her, she was grateful for his sense of justice. What he had suspected her of was a serious matter, sobering her into recalling the power he now wielded over her life. “You are my lawful husband and will be the father of my children. I accept this.”

He nodded, but the jovial grin did not appear. “That’s all well and good, but if you accept me as your husband, why do you lie to me?”

“Lie to you?”

“The glover?”

She saw the trap he had set for her. “You knew all along where I had been. Why did you try to trick me?”

“Trick you? I only tested you and you failed miserably, dear wife.” She hadn’t expected sarcasm from him and it stung.

“I – I – you had no call to deceive me so. Why should I be expected to account to you for my every movement?”

“Because, as you so astutely observed, I am your husband. You will account to me even now.” So saying, he took her wrist and pulled her unceremoniously to him. She had never been handled so firmly in all her memory. Not knowing how to react, she went limp as he yanked her over his lap when he sat on the bed. He made short work of her skirts, pushing them up over her waist to bare her rump. “This is what will happen to you,” he declared, “every time you dare to lie to me.” He brought his hand down, hard and fast, all over her naked bottom cheeks. Covering first one side, then the other, he laid down a stinging rain of heat.

Kirsten, woken from her stupor by the unexpected pain, began to struggle. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready. You will learn to tell the truth, at all times and in all places. Do you understand me?” Back and forth he spanked, first high then low then back again.

“Ow! Ow! Stop! Stop!”

“Hush! Do you want the whole castle to hear you being punished, like the willful little liar that you are?”

“You beast! You may be a c-commoner, but – but – I am not! Oh, ouch! No nobleman would –
ouch!
ever dare treat his lady thus!”

“Well, maybe they should,” he replied tersely, applying three particularly hard swats down low, where the tender flesh of her buttocks met her soft, sensitive thigh.

She yelped at the contact. “Ay! You stop that now!”

“Oh, no, my lady!” he said, laying down three more such hard swats to her other cheek. “Whatever other skills I may learn from you, one of them will not be the art of being lied to! You will tell me the truth or face my justice.” He stopped suddenly and loosened his grip.

She jumped up and whirled to face him. “This isn’t justice! This is barbarism! Common vulgarity!”

“What’s all the commotion?” It was her father, come to rescue her. She heard that blessed voice through the door and could have wept in relief.

Gustav stood silently while Kirsten ran to the door and threw it open. “Vatti, he hurt me!” she wailed.

Ludolf stepped through, staring at the calm, patient face of her husband. “Well, did you hurt her?”

“He beat me.”

“I spanked her bottom.”

“Oh.” There was a wealth of meaning in that one syllable.

To Kirsten, it brought disappointment and outrage. “Father! He hit me!”

“She lied to me.”

“He spanked you and you deserved it,” corrected Ludolf. “A husband has to correct a wayward wife upon occasion. Don’t be too hard on her just yet, eh? She’s young and needs a firm hand is all. If she’s a bit spoiled, it’s her mother’s fault. These intelligent women! Get round a man. You’ll see.”

“I’ll give her another chance, if it will please you, sir.” His voice was diffident but dignified.

“Do that,” Ludolf said with a nod. “And you, my daughter. I’d leave off the lying if I were you. Look at those hands. I wouldn’t think you’d be eager to get another spanking any time soon. You’ve been taught better than that. Lying. Huh!”

And with that her father quit the room, closing the door behind him. Kirsten could detect the mild disgust in his voice as he pronounced the final accusation. It brought the blush of shame to her cheeks as surely as Gustav’s spanking had brought the fire to her backside. The conversation with her father, though brief, had given her a chance to reconsider. How was her behavior reflecting on her family? Not a very fine showing for a noblewoman, she had to admit.

“Perhaps I… I was in the wrong.”

“No perhaps about it.”

“All right. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. Go stand by the fire and wait. I’ll take you down to dinner in a moment.”

She moved to the chest thinking to get out her hairbrush and re-arrange her hair but he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“To get my brush.” She moved again, but he held her back.

“I told you to wait by the fire.”

“I’m not cold.”

“That’s not the point. You were given instructions. You did not follow them. Do you want me to turn you over my knee again so soon?”

“No! What does it matter to you where I wait for you?”

“Just take my word for it. It matters. Go wait by the fire.”

She looked at him in confusion but complied.

“Stand with your hands on the mantel.”

Feeling silly and embarrassed, she did as she was told. He came up behind her and tucked the hem of her skirt into her belt, exposing her burning bare backside to his gaze.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Examining my handiwork to see if it was thorough enough. A job done right doesn’t have to be done again, isn’t that the way of it?”

She blew out a breath, but held her tongue, knowing without having to be told that if she did not obey, he would most likely spank her again. She never wanted to experience another such session in her life, so she held still. After a few minutes, Gustav came up behind her and lowered her skirts.

“No more lies, Kirsten. Your purpose in all this is to make me look like a nobleman not a fool.”

With that he put out his arm for her, whether in offer or in challenge she didn’t know. Her pride was stung just enough so that, overcoming her anger and frustration at his treatment of her, she took it, blank-faced, frozen. If he meant to spank her to remind her of her duty, she would make sure that she would never fail in her duty again.

Chapter Three

No failure of duty could be put down to her account over the next few days. Kirsten meticulously performed every chore asked of her, every courtesy required. Unsmiling, unyielding, she went through her hours like a puppet in a parade. As they made ready for their trip to Schoenfeld, Kirsten packed and checked, then re-checked and packed again, wondering if the pitiful collection of household items she saw on the wagons were going to be enough to live on.

The journey to Schoenfeld lasted two days slow going, part of the way in the rain. To Kirsten it seemed like two years, but at last they arrived. The manor house itself, while not large, looked warm and inviting to her eyes. The spring weather had turned nasty and chilly again, as if winter wanted to personally bid her one final farewell at the castle and had come just a little too late. She rushed from the her father’s carriage to the front door, slumping there to wait on Gustav or one of his guards to come open the wide oak door carved with all sorts of strange animals and figures.

Expecting to find the interior cold and cheerless, Kirsten was pleasantly surprised to follow Gustav’s man, Wern, into the entrance hall and feel a warm glow. She heard rustling as if someone were walking briskly over the rushes on the flagstone, and then around the corner appeared a woman Kirsten had not seen before. Tall and solid-looking, she had curly hair that hung down to her waist, tied back with a scarf. “This is Neslin, my wife. Neslin, this is Lady Kirsten, the new wife of Sir Gustav,” announced Wern.

“Sir Gustav, is it now? Well, there’s a wonder and no mistake. A house and a title and a wife. My, my! Welcome, my lady!” Neslin shook her head with a good-natured smile on her face. She made an awkward courtesy to Kirsten, but then went on about her work, not waiting to be dismissed as would have been proper.

Kirsten was shocked. “Where did she go?” she demanded of Wern. “And how came she here? I thought Gustav had no servants for the manor house.”

“Well, now, my lady, I wouldn’t say there were
no
servants, but I wouldn’t say Neslin’s
exactly
a servant, either. She’s my wife and is happy to help out here till you get settled and Gustav can collect himself some more suitable people. Gustav is quite a collector. He’ll have it taken care of soon enough, you’ll see. But my wife isn’t so suitable as she’s got her own family and house in the village to take care of.”

“That’s as may be, but I do not like her turning her back on me before she is dismissed. You will tell her so.” Cold and haughty, Kirsten turned away.

“As you wish, my lady.” Wern sounded doubtful and astoundingly, a bit amused. Kirsten wondered what it could mean, but had no way of asking without sounding silly, so she had to let it go.

“You will bring the trunks and chests up to my wardrobe room, make sure the bed is turned down in my sleeping chamber, then come get me when all is in readiness, for I wish to lie down before dinner. I’ll have the front room with the eastern exposure, of course.” With that she plopped herself down on a bench by the wall to wait.

“If that suits Gustav, I’ll see it done.” Wern gave her another hesitant look before departing. His comment gave Kirsten pause. Since the night he had spanked her, he had been too busy to pay her much mind at all. Kirsten wondered if that would continue or if he would now take an active interest in her.

Her questions were soon answered as a few minutes later, Gustav came bursting through the door carrying the front end of a large bed, another gift from her parents. “Come along, Kirsten! You can make the bed as soon as we set it in place.”

“Make the bed?” she said, unbelieving. “I saw that servant. You can’t fool me into doing all the work, as you led me to believe I would have to do.”

Not stopping, Gustav threw his next comments over his shoulder as he trudged ahead of the bed and the two men it took to support the back half. “You met Neslin, did you? Good, good, but she’s not
your
servant. She’s here to help with the cooking. We do have quite a few people to feed. She’s got six young ones herself, so she knows how to feed a large crew. Of course you can’t do everything yourself, but you will have to help out more than you’re used to. So, let’s begin as we mean to go on.”

Kirsten sat there, mutinous, fuming, not caring what he wanted.
He has married himself a noblewoman, not a peasant laborer. He’s made his bed; let him lie in it. He’ll just have to manage. He’s got other men in the mercenary army. Some of them have got to have wives. Let them come and do their duty by their lady.