Part 11 (1/2)
He heard the words, though. The rain of blows halted. A soft step approached and his breath came loudly. ”Please?” he asked. ”Would you have me stop it? Do you think you've been punished enough?”
She sobbed and had to clear her throat before she could talk. ”Not my will in this, but yours, my lord.””Ah.” That one word held both surprise and recognition, but recognition of what, she couldn't guess.
'Ten more,” he said. ”But these will be harder. You'll not be able to keep from screaming, so I'm going to stop your mouth. You'll not be able to beg me stop, so I ask you now to say yea or nay to this.”
Her breath clotted in her chest as sheer, raw terror poured waves of ice down her spine and along her limbs. She wished she could see his face. Wished she could touch him or ask him to give her some rea.s.surance, some comfort. But that was not for her, not now.
”I agree, my lord.”For a moment, all was quiet, save for the sound of his breathing and hers. Odd, that his seemed almost as ragged and stretched as her own. Then he moved. Footsteps crossed the room and came back.”Open your mouth,” he ordered.When she did so, a piece of silk was pushed in, and another tied around her head to hold it in place. Bizarrely, it occurred to her to wonder where he'd found so much silk in such a short time.
”Get ready.”She braced herself. But when the leather struck her back, nothing could have readied her to receive it. It was liquid anguish, poured over her and set ablaze. She groaned in agony, but the fabric in her mouth smothered the sound. The bed must have been built solidly and the knots in the silk bonds securely tied. Her wild struggles would have torn
them apart otherwise.
Two more strikes across her shoulders felt as though they raked skin from the bone. The fiery burn sent her into a frenzied writhing accompanied by a wild sobbing that leaked past the fabric gag as small squeals.
The fourth stroke, hard across the already raw and burning flesh of her bottom, took her beyond any control. Her scream would have shaken the keep had it not been contained by the fabric. Likewise, she would certainly have begged, pleaded, even ordered him to end it. The fifth likewise felt as though it flayed strips from her derriere.
The next two went across her thighs and burned as though a torch had been laid on
them. Pain had her thras.h.i.+ng mindlessly, screaming and praying for it to end.But she had to endure three more sizzling, rending strokes on her bottom before it was over. By then she had screamed herself out and sunk into exhaustion. The last lash almost didn't register, as though her ability to feel pain was so full, it could no longer function. A strange, floaty sensation had taken hold by then.
She heard, but didn't comprehend, the small clatter as the leather strap was flung against the wall. When Sir Thomas removed the bonds from her wrists and ankles, she would have collapsed to the floor if he hadn't held her. Her legs had no strength. He held her against his chest as he pushed the sodden blindfold from her eyes with his free hand. She blinked once or twice then stared into his blue eyes, riveted by the depths of love, concern, and compa.s.sion there.
”Juliana?” he asked after he'd removed the silk binding her mouth and pulled the soggy fabric out.
The one word held a world of meaning. Was she all right? Could she hear him? Was she overwhelmed? Did she hate him? Want him to leave her? With all the pain, it still brought another hurt to hear the fear in his voice.
She sought to rea.s.sure him in the same way. ”Thomas. Thank you.” She snuggled against him. It comforted her and soothed her aches to feel the warmth of his skin, the clasp of his arms as he held her against him.
He carried her around the bed and settled her carefully on her side. ”'Tis done now,” he said. ”The lies and the deception are behind us. You've paid for it in full and from now it is forgiven and forgotten between us.”
The fiery burn of welts across her back, bottom and thighs still ached fiercely, but she nonetheless felt relieved of a burden on her spirit. Not all was removed, but for the moment, her befogged mind could deal with only the one issue. Sir Thomas forgave her and would put it behind them.
She reached out and took his right hand, pulling it in toward her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and holding it there with all her remaining strength. Then she drew it to her mouth and kissed it.
”You should rest now,” he said. I'll make your excuses at dinner. Will you need some of the pain tincture to help you to sleep?”She couldn't help staring at his face, and especially his eyes-so blue, so bright, so full of love and concern. It was a salve more effective than any she knew. ”Nay, Sir Thomas, I'll take no medication. I'll rest now, but I beg you wake me at the dinner warning bell if I do not so on my own.””You needn't, my love. 'Twill be difficult for you to sit.”She smiled at him. ”But I must. Half the household will have guessed why we're closeted in my quarters. They need rea.s.surance that I'm neither badly injured nor devastated in spirit.” She sighed. ”I believe I will require a pillow, however.”He laughed gently, and it did her heart good to see it. ”If you insist, I'll sneak in early and set pillows on your chair.”
”I would appreciate it. Will you lie with me a while? You surely are in need of a rest yourself, and it would comfort me to have your arms around me.”His smile was like suns.h.i.+ne after a storm. ”Aye, if it won't pain you.” He walked around the bed and lay down behind her. She was too exhausted and sore to roll or turn to look at him, and though it caused some pain in her back when he slid an arm under her neck, she nonetheless relished the joy of his touch enough to ignore the discomfort.
Chapter Fourteen.
Thomas roused to the sound of the dinner bell clanging. Beside him, Juliana stirred as well. A knock on the door followed hard on the warning bell. ”My lady?” Avice called. ”Would you have me help you dress for dinner?”
”Nay, thank you,” Juliana called, without moving. ”I can see to it myself.””As you will, my lady.”Thomas withdrew and rolled over to get out of bed. He turned when he heard Juliana groan softly as she tried to push herself up. Aching muscles and sore skin defeated her
first effort to rise.”Stay there for a few minutes,” Thomas told her. ”I'm going to put the pillows in place. Then I'll return and help you.”
Fortunately no one stopped him or questioned him when he took a pair of pillows from his quarters, noting that Ralf and the servant a.s.signed to care for him both dozed peacefully. He took the pillows to the great hall, slid them onto her seat, and pushed the
chair far enough under the table to hide its cus.h.i.+oning.
Juliana had waited for his return. With his a.s.sistance, she was able to rise and stand. But when she turned, he sucked in a harsh breath. Had he truly been so hard on her? The evidence stood out sharply on her skin, the marks of the strap a clear map of how hard and how often his belt had lashed her. Her shoulders bore red stripes darkening to bruises in spots, while her bottom was still fiery, the skin grated, with blackish bruises
beginning to show. One spot on her left thigh sported a large, heavy black mark where the end of the strap had dug in several times.”Are you certain you won't change your mind and stay here? 'Twill not be comfortable sitting on that, even with pillows.””My reasons haven't changed, nor has the necessity. I can bear this.”He suspected she regretted that resolve before midway through dinner, despite the riotous cheers and laughter that marked the meal as the most cheerful one since the night the traveling company had stopped by. But the smiles of the people in the hall and their obvious satisfaction in seeing her at ease and reconciled with Sir Thomas surely compensated for her discomfort. It sent odd streaks of longing into his heart and his groin. All here knew how much they cared for each other, and they just as clearly approved. Yet he couldn't promise either them or her that there would be any future for them, less the one they envisioned and hoped for. As joyous an occasion as it was, he could still see Juliana's relief when all had finished eating. He wasted no time in standing to retire. Perhaps a few realized that the hand he extended to help the lady rise was as much a necessity as a courtesy.
”There should be a bath waiting for us,” he said, as they walked the corridor. ”I asked for it when I went to put the pillows out. 'Twill do your bruises good to soak out some of the soreness.”
The tub sat in front of the fire with two servants pouring buckets of hot water into it. Another pair came in just behind them to add to it. Steam rose from the surface. When a third group of servants had come and gone, Thomas told them it was enough, barred the door, and helped her out of her clothes. He had to suppress the urge to whip himself when he saw how much he'd hurt her. She felt so fragile and delicate as he lifted her over the edge and into the tub that he couldn't believe he'd beaten her so cruelly. No matter that she wanted it, had practically forced him to do it. He'd been harsh with her.
She sank down in the tub, then stopped when the water stung the places on her bottom and thighs where the skin had been grated by the strap. But after a minute she lowered herself the rest of the way. Relief showed on her face as the heat of the water worked its way into her body and loosened tight muscles.
Thomas let her soak for a few minutes, then picked up a washcloth and soaped it. She kept her eyes shut as he ran the cloth over her shoulders and arms. Another pang knifed into him when he found a bruise on her arm in the shape of the end of the belt.
Juliana's eyes opened. She watched him for a moment, then shocked him when she said, ”Won't you join me in the tub, Sir Thomas? 'Twill be a tight fit, but I believe there's room enough.”
He dropped the wash cloth in his astonishment, but a grin he couldn't suppress spread across his face. He shed his clothes before she could change her mind and climbed in with her. His added bulk pushed the water level almost to the top of the tub, and some splashed out as he lowered himself in, facing her. With s.p.a.ce tight, he had to sit with his knees bent, legs positioned outside hers.
They attempted to wash each other, but ended up using the lather from the soap to draw designs on each other's chests. He couldn't keep his hands from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the sweetest such mounds he'd ever seen or felt. The delicate nipples responded so avidly to his touch, beading into hard pebbles and forcing breathless gasps from her.