Under the Lash (15 page)

But the two of them were bound together now, and she wanted to do what she could to help her daughter come to terms with her new life and be as happy as she could with her new husband. She felt strongly that they both needed to put behind them whatever it was that had happened between them on the ship and move forward with their lives.

“I know that what you saw between Gregorio and me sent you running away from us, and I will never forgive myself for being the catalyst that launched you on your...misadventure. But I want you to know how glad I am to have you back, and that I’ll do anything I can to help you and Anjel have as happy a life as Gregorio and I do.”

Feeling extremely uncomfortable with the subject matter, Cassie had smiled wanly, saying, “Thank you, Mother. We appreciate that you and Gregorio have offered us rooms in the mansion. You two have been wonderful.”

“I have wanted to talk to you since that night, Cassie, and now that you’re a married woman, well, I hope you can understand somewhat and put into perspective what it was that you saw on that awful night.”

Blushing at least as furiously as Anjel used to delight in making her, Cassie’s answer was decidedly strangled by her embarrassment. “Yes, Mama.”

“Because we do love each other so very deeply. I don’t want you to doubt that. Gregorio has made me nearly as happy as your father did all those years, and I am so blessed to have found him, and I don’t want you worrying that he’s abusive or that he beats me.”

It was Cassie’s turn to clear her throat nervously. “I understand, Mama. I do. Much more so than I prefer to talk about, really.” That was about far as Cassie was willing to discuss with her mother about either matter – the fact that Gregorio disciplined Lysette or that Anjel had done the same thing to her.

Lysette leaned over and patted Cassie’s hand. “Thank you, dear. I appreciate your understanding.”

And now here was her husband, standing directly in front of her, blocking out nearly the entirety of her line of sight except for him, looking for all he was worth as if he wanted to practice some of that same type of discipline around which she and her mother had skirted so delicately right this very moment, although he hadn’t so much as touched her – in any intimate way – since she’d gotten sick.

Come to think of it, she did remember that he had said something about how he thought that riding was too strenuous for her to take back up until she was more fully recovered, but she had much preferred to consider what he’d said to be a suggestion rather than an order, and so when she awoke this morning and saw that it was yet another gorgeous day, she decided that she wanted to go for a ride.

“Yes, I believe you did say something to me about that a few days ago,” she answered, her tone carefully bland. “But I asked the doctor at his last visit and he said that if I was feeling strong enough, and I am, that it would be fine as long as I stopped when I got tired.”

That was apparently not the answer Anjel wanted to hear, and she could see him clench his jaws in anger. Even after all these weeks without him having laid a hand on her, the sight made her take a small step back from him, despite the fact that she was inwardly cursing her own cowardice.

Although he didn’t like the fear he saw in her eyes, he nonetheless took a step closer to her, bringing her in full contact with his achingly ready body. There hadn’t been a minute in the past four weeks that he hadn’t wanted her with everything that was in him, but he had vowed to himself that he would stay away from her. Anjel had turned over her care to her mother and his uncle’s doctor, although he often stole into her room at night to watch over her for long moments, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was still getting better. But he was careful never to let her see him doing that.

He visited her like clockwork once a day, for a somewhat stiffly polite tea, and that was the extent of his interaction with her. But he’d never missed an opportunity to catch a glimpse of her once she began venturing out of her room, and he made sure that she had everything she needed or wanted, gleaning that information from long conversations with Lysette, whom he had come to adore almost as much as his uncle did.

And almost as much as he had come to adore Cassie, although he was prepared never to let her see it. He felt unworthy around her, and it was a feeling he was completely unfamiliar with. He wasn’t at all sure what he should say to her or do with her – beyond what his baser instincts continued to demand he do, every second of every day. But he had – thus far – refused to assert his husbandly rights, nor had he taken up the firm disciplinary stance he had maintained with her on the ship, using her illness as an excuse to avoid both intimate behaviors.

Yet every night, alone in his room, his body tortured him in his dreams with thoughts of what he wanted to do to and with her, so much so that he rarely slept well any more, and his temper was much the worse for it.

His uncle thought he was crazy to have so much guilt about what he had done, especially since, in the older man’s eyes, he had made full restitution by marrying her, and she was now his to do with as he pleased – short of taking his fists to her, of course. But Anjel wasn’t at all sure that that bill would ever be paid in full, and he was having a difficult time picturing himself as a husband to her, considering what had already transpired between them.

His uncle knew of his predilections; they had been discussing the subject since Anjel had become a man, since it was Gregorio’s bent, also. And that was another count on which he couldn’t understand his nephew’s thinking: Cassie was his wife. He was supposed to keep her in check, and provide the necessary motivation for good behavior. Gregorio was of a mind that wives needed consistent discipline, even if they hadn’t put a foot wrong. He confided that he spanked Lysette at least once a week, even if she hadn’t done anything he considered worthy of a spanking. He believed that knowing there would always be a spanking coming regularly reduced the number of individual disciplinary sessions she earned during the week, because she knew she was going to be paddled good and hard even if she behaved perfectly, and didn’t want to add to it.

Suddenly, though, Anjel could stand it no longer, and reached out to take Cassie’s hand. He kept the length of his strides short in deference to her condition, but, damn and blast, if she was healthy enough to ride, then she was healthy enough to learn to obey her husband when he told her
not
to ride. He didn’t give a tinker’s damn what the doctor said.

Although she pulled and tugged as discreetly as she could, Cassie quickly discovered that she could not reclaim her hand from his. She even tried to just slip out of her riding glove, but that hadn’t worked either; he merely grabbed a hold of her elbow instead. She began to suspect that even an out and out tantrum wouldn’t do it. If she knew him – and she did, unfortunately – if she tried to throw herself on the ground screaming like a child, he would simply lean down, pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, without so much as missing a step, too, she’d bet.

Not that she was going to humiliate herself by doing anything so childish, whatever the provocation. He had to let go of her sometime, didn’t he?

But she would have done better remembering just how crafty he could be. Anjel had an idea that her complacency would evaporate the moment they were in her room, so as soon as they were behind that closed door, he lifted her into his arms, strode to her vanity to pick up the beautiful mahogany hairbrush he’d seen there when he’d visited her early on in her convalescence, and brought it with them to the edge of her bed, where he sat down and draped her over his thighs in exactly the position in which he wanted her.

Cassie, of course, immediately attempted to get up, but found herself more than amply pinned down by the simple act of him putting his left arm – with uncomfortable familiarity – across the small of her back, curving his fingers around her hip to add even more stability to his hold and discourage other routes of escape.

Her skirts were unceremoniously lifted onto her back, then quickly tamped down by his arm again, and after he’d divested her of her under things, one big tree trunk leg found its way over the both of hers, easily waylaying any kicking she might have thought she was going to do.

And he didn’t wait to see how she was going to react to all of this, either. He would, of course, keep an eye on her for any concerns involving her recent illness, but he didn’t think that there would be any since she claimed to be so fully recovered. Anjel started right in with the flat of his hand first, lecturing her in much the same manner as he had aboard ship, finding that – even though their roles had changed somewhat – the tone and cadence were much the same.

“I think that I have been much more than patient in waiting for you to feel better before I expected you to assume the role of my wife, but that, my dear, is at an end. Your end, as you might have guessed.” Her brush was bigger than the one he had used on her before and heavier, and it made quite an impact when he switched to it – not that his hand hadn’t already. Their rooms were in a wing of the house that his uncle never used, and there was absolutely no possibility that anyone would overhear them.

Luckily for Cassie, because he didn’t intend to skimp on his husbandly duties any longer, and he was rapidly decided that he liked the idea of using her own hairbrush on her. He was thinking that it might well become her weekly punishment implement, but he wasn’t quite sure yet whether he was willing to commit to that. More research needed to be done before the best selection was made. And he intended to do
a lot
of very thorough research.

“When I tell you that I don’t think you should be doing something – like horseback riding, or eating so many bon bons –” Her mother had brought her a large box of confections back from town, and she had quite overindulged in them, setting herself back a day or two with a terrible stomach ache, “then I expect you will obey me, just as I expected you to obey me when we were at sea. And the consequences will be the same if you decide not to. You’re going to be sitting very carefully whenever you disobey me, Cassie, I can promise you that, and I’m going to take a page from my uncle’s book and tell you that you’re going to get a spanking just like this – or maybe more so – once a week on Saturday nights, just before bedtime.”

Cassie wasn’t just moaning and crying – she was howling, because of the unyielding wooden implement that was tearing up her bottom but also in frustration from having him lay down the law to her so emphatically. At least when they had been on his ship, she had had a chance at escaping the implementation of his brand of strict discipline. But now she was married to him, and the law agreed that he could do pretty much anything he wanted to her.

There was nowhere to run away to – her mother and stepfather would return her immediately right back to her husband, as would any of the townspeople, and she had less than no interest in setting sail again under any circumstances. She was well and truly trapped, with a man who thoroughly enjoyed taking her to task for the least possible reason.

Anjel didn’t let up until he could see that she had surrendered totally to him. That took a while and he understood why. He could hear the anger in her cries, and knew how frustrated she felt. But he intended to be the authority in his marriage, and he wanted absolutely no doubt in her mind about that. So he continued to bring the back of that hairbrush down on her cringing backside until he thought she had learned the first of what he was sure was going to be a multitude of very important lessons during the course of their marriage.

Once he had finished, he did as was his habit and kept the brush easily accessible, in case the miscreant decided to rebel later on, and then he followed his instincts and undressed her down to her milky white skin, noting that she no longer had even so much as a bandage over the wound on her side. He had been right; she was going to have a scar, but Bones was a skilled surgeon, and he had done a very good sewing job on her, despite how rough it looked now. It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could have been, and he had to admit he considered it a badge of honor.

His beautiful wife was still sobbing, not really paying much attention to what he was doing, but she stopped when she realized that he had pressed his mouth over her wound.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a watery tone, surprised and curious at his actions.

Anjel settled himself on top of her, insinuating himself between her legs and nuzzling his way up to her neck. “I was trying to kiss it better. I tried it the night you were shot, too, but it didn’t help much, I’m sorry to say.”

That he had even tried had her heart melting towards him. It was insisting on doing that no matter how often her mind brought up all of the injustices he had done to her. It didn’t help that her mother kept listing all of his positive attributes, and any good thing she had heard he had done for her while she was sick, so much so that she wanted to scream at her mother to shut up about Anjel, but she didn’t.

She was horrified to realize that she didn’t because she wanted to know everything about him that she could. She had taken to talking to her new stepfather about him whenever he visited her, which was more frequently, she was unhappy to say, than her husband did, by far. She had long since apologized for the bratty attitude she had had towards him at first, and had now completely changed her thinking about him, partly because she could see just how happy her mother was. Gregorio was only too happy to regale his lovely stepdaughter with tales of Anjel’s misspent youth as she recovered, and even now they had a standing date for breakfast in the morning, as the two of them were early risers, unlike their spouses.

Finally, Anjel cupped her face with his hands, saying in a low, serious tone, “I know you wouldn’t have married me if you’d known it was happening, Cassie. But it really was the best course of action. What if you had been pregnant?”

Cassie nodded with what Anjel regarded as depressing reluctance. “I understand, and I appreciate that you did so.” When she said it out loud, she realized that she meant it. “A lot of men wouldn’t have, regardless of whom you discovered me to be.”