Read Online Under A Duke's Hand by Annabel Joseph - Free Book Online Page B

duck had lodged itself
in her throat.
    Her husband turned back to her as the
innkeeper scuttled away. “If you’re certain you’re completely finished, darling,” he said with daunting
emphasis, “then let us retire upstairs.”

Chapter
Five: Discipline
     
     
     
    Aidan felt rather proud to have made it one
full day of marriage before spanking his wife. In this, of course,
he outlasted his friend Townsend, who had spanked his wife on their
wedding night, before he even bedded the woman.
    Ah, well. Disorderly wives craved orderly
consequences. Acting out was a plea to be taken in hand.
Guinevere’s stunt with the tiny piece of duck was funny, yes. He
might have laughed, but there was nothing amusing about a power
struggle within a marriage. By nature, he must lead and she must
follow. He must rule and she must obey. He must discipline, and she
must bend and take it. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t earned.
    While the inn staff assembled the necessary
birch rod, Aidan’s valet freshened him up, scraping away stubble,
applying cologne, and offering a somber-hued dressing gown that was
perfect for the occasion. The man was excellent at reading his
moods.
    Aidan dismissed the servant for the night,
and passed through to the adjoining chamber. He found his wife in a
chair by the fire, still dressed in her traveling clothes. He
regarded her a moment, then crossed to stand by the mantel.
    “I brought a lady’s maid on the journey
specifically for your use,” he said. “She would have helped you
dress for bed.”
    “I can dress myself.”
    “Her name is Pascale. She’s French, and came
highly recommended from the Duchess of Winningham’s service.”
    He received no thanks for procuring this most
desirable of servants, the French lady’s maid, who must now be
stewing in the servants’ chambers. He received nothing but a
vitriolic stare.
    “Why are you so angry?” he asked. “What have
I done to you, to make you dislike me with such fervor?”
    “What have you done?” She got to her feet,
her hands in fists. “You questioned my virtue, repeatedly, when you
were the one dallying with village girls a mere day before we were
to meet.”
    “One village girl, who happened to be you, so
I don’t see how that counts.”
    “You’ve also sneered at my family and their
hospitality, forced me to perform unnatural acts in your traveling
coach—”
    “I don’t know if I forced you, darling.”
    “—criticized my table manners, and humiliated
me before the innkeeper by asking for a birch rod to be delivered
to my room.”
    “What else was I to do? I needed one.”
    As if on cue, a knock came at the door. Aidan
opened it and accepted the fresh birch from a blushing maidservant.
He inspected the bundle of slim, straight withes, then tapped it
against his palm to test its mettle.
    “Undress,” he said to his wife. “Let’s get
this unpleasantness over with.”
    She stared at him. “You don’t really mean you
are going to... I thought you only meant to...to threaten me.”
    “I never threaten, Guinevere. I decide upon
consequences, and then I act. Now, will you undress, or shall I do
it for you?”
    She answered with a bit less bravado. “I
don’t want to undress. I don’t want you to punish me. I haven’t
been birched since I was a child.”
    “That probably explains the extent of your
willfulness. As I said, I’ll train it out of you.”
    When it became apparent she wouldn’t undress
on her own, he crossed to her and turned her about, and began
working at her laces. One good thing about his lustful
bachelorhood: he was very quick at managing ladies’ clothing. He
unlaced her bodice and pulled her heavy, voluminous gown over her
head, disregarding her half-hearted attempts to impede him. He
stripped off her petticoats next, and her underthings, her shift
and stockings.
    “You will tear them,” she said, as he bent to
tug the latter off her kicking legs.
    “I’ll buy you more. Better ones, befitting