Captive Fox
    Part One


      by Bluebonnet





*Disclaimer:* Yeah, right, they're mine--NOT!

*Rating:* NC-17, although not in this part.

*Keywords:* Sex and discipline, need I say more?

*Spoilers:* Who knows? Who even cares?

*Summary:* In a land where women rule and men are chattel, young Fox
Mulder is about to become Lady Dana Scully's most prized possession...



Lady Dana Scully gazed around her, surveying the wedding preparations
with satisfaction. All was in readiness. Tomorrow afternoon, she would
take a groom.

She'd had her eye on young Fox Mulder ever since she had returned from
war--she'd been in the village one day, on her way home from a day of
working in her mother's clinic, when a commotion behind her had drawn
her attention. Turning her horse, Thunder, around, she'd been confronted
with a man, obviously of the nobility but still a male, surrounded by
six or seven of the seediest women in the village. The young man was
sitting astride a fine-looking mare, and the expression on his face was
one of carefully controlled terror.

"Ladies, please, I must return home now," he said, and Lady Dana could
hear the trembling in his voice that he tried to hide.

"Not yet, sweetie," one of the women giggled, running her hand
suggestively up his thigh. "Stay and play a bit."

"Please!" the poor young man begged desperately, trying unsuccessfully
to elude the women. "My mother will be looking for me!"

"Your mother didn't keep too well an eye on you, now did she?" asked
another woman saucily. "And now here you are, all alone, all ready to be
our plaything for the evening."

The women were about to pull Fox from his horse, and Dana had no
illusions about what would happen next. The poor man would be the
unwilling entertainment for the night in a nearby pub, and his life
would be completely ruined.

"Here now!" she called, clapping her hands together sharply. "Leave the
boy alone."

"Aww, my lady," grumbled one of the women, but Lady Dana was well known
in the village, and well feared.

The moment the groping hands had removed themselves from his body, Fox
had set Samantha to a dead run--the boy was gone without even a 'thank
you' to Lady Dana for saving his virtue.

Shaking her head in exasperation, she questioned one of the women.
"Sally, who is that young man?"

"Why my lady, that's Lord Fox Mulder," Sally replied. "Didn't you
recognize him?"

"I've been away for many years," Dana replied, staring in the direction
the beautiful young man had disappeared. "He has grown up."

"Indeed he has, my lady," Sally agreed, turning back toward the pub she
managed. "A fine looking lad he turned out to be."

Dana had returned to her home and immediately begun making inquiries
about the Mulder son. He was available, she learned to her satisfaction,
and had been kept completely innocent. She had known him as a child, but
since they had reached their teens, they had not come into contact. Lady
Dana had been sent to school, and then to a military academy, as was the
tradition in the Scully family, and young Fox had apparently been kept
quite sheltered by his mother. He obviously hadn't lost the adventurous
streak she remembered in him from childhood, though, she thought
happily. It would make him an interesting husband.

Soon after, she asked Lady Teena for her son's hand in marriage, and was
accepted. Now the wedding preparations were well underway, and soon she
would take the shy young virgin Fox to her bed. He was completely
unspoiled, and tonight he would belong to her. She smiled in anticipation.

She turned when she felt a presence behind her, and beheld her mother's
new husband. Lord Walter had been left alone and unprotected when his
wife had died six months ago, and Maggie Scully, who had often turned an
appreciative eye toward Lord Walter in the past, had offered him a way
out of his dilemma. Lady Maggie's proposal of marriage had been an
answer to Walter's prayers--he'd been close to desperation after Lady
Sharon had died, for his own mother was dead, and he had no daughters to
care for him. Lady Sharon had died suddenly, and had not left him a free
agent in her Last Requests--thus, his life belonged to the Queen. He was
desperately afraid of being summoned to court, perhaps given in marriage
to one of the London nobility, and never seeing the town where he had
spent his entire life again. When Lady Maggie came to him, two weeks
after Lady Sharon's death, and asked him to be her husband, he had
fallen at her feet in gratitude. They had been married the very next
day, and Lord Walter was quite happy with the way his life had turned out.

Dana liked her new step-father. He was an obedient and loyal husband to
her mother, just as a man should be.

"All should be ready by tomorrow afternoon, Lady Dana," Walter said,
bowing his head deferentially in her direction. "Young Fox is a lucky man."

Dana smiled. "Thank you, Walter. I consider myself quite lucky as well--
Fox is the finest young man in these parts."

"He is a credit to his mother, and he'll be a credit to you as your
husband," Lord Walter agreed.

"Are we speaking of my new son?" asked Lady Maggie, coming up to slide a
hand possessively over Walter's behind, so attractive in his snug
breeches. She grinned at his blush, and pinched him lightly. Walter
didn't care for the tight trousers she made him wear, but Lady Maggie
insisted. 'I like to see your shapely bottom displayed for my
enjoyment,' she had told him, and with a sigh, he had obeyed. It was,
after all, his Lady's right to choose his clothing.

"Yes, My Lady," Walter murmured, submitting to his wife's attentions
gracefully. Lady Maggie seemed to enjoy caressing his buttocks, and it
was his duty and his pleasure to allow her liberties with his person.
Lady Maggie was much more... physical in her attentions to him than Lady
Sharon had been, and after Walter had gotten over his initial shock at
the situation, he found himself almost enjoying it. Inwardly, he was
disturbed at his reaction--his own father had told him that sex was a
husband's duty, to be borne as often as his wife demanded it, but that
it was not a particularly enjoyable task. Sex with Lady Sharon hadn't
been repulsive, but to Walter's gratitude, it had not often been
required. Lady Maggie was a different story--she could exhaust him in
their bed at night and then require his attentions again in the morning.
He felt well used...and well loved.

"Walter," Lady Maggie said seriously when her husband's face had
returned to its normal color. "I'd like you to have a word with the boy.
With his own father dead, I'm sure he's had nobody to give him manly
advice. Perhaps just a little talk from you to ease his apprehension."

Walter nodded agreement. "Of course, Lady Maggie," he replied. "I'll
assure young Fox that he has nothing to fear in the hands of a woman
with Lady Dana's experience.

"Very good. Leave us now, Walter. I have important business matters to
discuss with my daughter."

Lord Walter bowed to the ladies and took his leave. He knew exactly what
he ought to tell Fox--he should pass on the advice his own father had
given him upon his marriage to Lady Sharon. The only problem was--since
he'd become Lady Maggie's husband, the advice didn't seem to ring true
any longer.



Fox reigned Samantha to a halt and surveyed the countryside. The Mulder
lands overlooked a charming valley, into which was nestled the village
of Azure, and on the other side of the valley, climbing the gently
rolling hills, sat the estate of Lady Dana Scully.

Lady Scully had come home recently from the army, and Fox had not seen
her since he was a child. She was living in the Scully Mansion now, with
Lady Maggie and Maggie's new husband, Lord Walter Scully. Lady Maggie
and Lord Walter had only been married six months, and Fox had heard that
Lady Maggie had her new husband well in hand already.

Not long after she'd returned from battle, Lady Dana had begun to cast
her eyes about the village for a suitable husband, and although he'd
tried all his life to remain unobtrusive, she had immediately set upon
Fox and had asked his mother for his hand in marriage. To his
consternation, Lady Teena had agreed, and tomorrow the shy Fox Mulder
would become Fox William Scully, Lord Scully the Younger, and he would
move across the valley to reside at the Scully estate.

The Mulder lands would belong to Lady Dana upon his mother's death, as
he had no sister to inherit, and men were not allowed to own property
except in very special circumstances. His cousin Jake, for instance,
owned the lands his wife, Lady Iris, had left to him. She had stipulated
in her Last Requests that Jake be made a free agent after her death,
that he be allowed to live out his life on her properties as if they
were his own. A woman could leave her husband with that bit of
assurance, if she was of a mind, and if she was of the nobility, but it
all still existed at the Queen's whim. Should a ranking Lady of the
nobility ask for Jake's hand in marriage, it was up to the Queen to
decide if Jake became the Lady's husband or if he retained his freedom.
If Jake was married again, his first wife's property would then belong
to his new wife, to be passed on to any daughters they might have. Since
Jake and Lady Iris had had no children, it was in the Queen's best
interest to allow Jake to remain free; upon his death, all Lady Iris'
properties reverted to the Crown.

Lady Teena had impressed upon Fox the importance of marrying well since
he was a young boy. He had been guarded and sheltered, and had remained
pure and untouched, unlike the boys from the village, some of whom had
surrendered their virginity at shockingly young ages. Fox knew his
mother had been sorely disappointed to never have been given a daughter
by her husband, Lord William Mulder, who had died lo these five years
earlier, and now it was Fox's responsibility to see to it that the
Mulder lands at least stayed within Lady Teena's bloodline. He must
marry and give his wife daughters. It was expected. It was what a man
did, what men were bred for and taught from the time they were able to
understand the language.

Lady Dana had been a medic in the army, tending to the women who were
wounded in battle, and had seen a bit of combat herself, if the rumors
were to be believed. Now she had joined with her mother's clinic in the
village, where the name 'Scully' was synonymous with excellent medical
care in these parts, and had been for generations. Fox thought the
tending of those in distress sounded like a wonderful occupation, but
men were not allowed to work. A man must spend his days keeping his
lady's house, supervising her servants, overseeing her meals and the
running of the household, and raising his lady's children, but he must
never work. For a man to work, unless it was a situation of dire
necessity, was a disgrace upon the man's family name. The Mulder name
had stood proudly in the Azure region for hundreds of years. Fox simply
could not be the first to sully it, so, with a sigh, he gave up any
ideas he had about interesting work outside his lady's home.

His father had taught Fox how to manage a large estate, beginning when
he was very small and training him well into his teenage years. Once
Lord William had died, Fox had stepped into his shoes and continued the
tradition of a well run Mulder household. Lady Teena, who had no great
ambitions, and whose 'occupation' consisted of simply /being/ Lady Teena
Mulder, had done her part to gently mold and shape her son during his
formative years. She believed men should be seen and not heard, and as a
result, Fox could usually be counted upon to remain quiet and at the
background of things, demure and proper as men were expected to be. He
had a wild streak in him, though, and sometimes Fox simply couldn't
resist giving in to the impulses that raged through his blood.

"You have a bit of your grandmother in you, Fox," Lady Teena would say,
smiling fondly when she was forced to punish him for some misdeed. "She
was an adventurer too. But it is unbecoming behavior in a man, my dear,
and you must learn to curb your adventuresome side if you ever hope to
make a good match."

Fox would nod, apologetically accepting his well-deserved punishment,
and would remain quiet and sober for the rest of the day. By all outward
appearances, he was reflecting upon his behavior and how he might
improve it in the future, but in reality, Fox was fuming. Why must a man
be such a fool, he asked himself repeatedly, but no answer was
forthcoming. Indeed, there did not seem to /be/ an answer; it was simply
the way of a woman's world. Men existed to serve women, to be taken and
protected by them, and to give them daughters.

Even the female servants of an estate ranked above the male members of
the family, and Lady Teena had had to speak sharply to a few of her
servants on occasion, when they would become a little too frisky where
Fox was concerned. Groping a man was one thing, she told them, and
certainly to be understood and forgiven, but to take things to a level
that would deprive Fox of his virginity before marriage simply would not
be tolerated, and would be punished with the highest penalty allowed.
Lady Teena intended her son to go to his marriage bed pure.

And he would, he reflected. Since Lord William's death, he had been a
virtual prisoner at the Mulder estate, rarely allowed to leave their
lands even to venture down into the village. Lady Teena had kept him so
well protected, he thought ruefully, that he might as well have taken
his vows to the Church. His reverie was interrupted by the sound of
hoofbeats behind him, and jerking himself back to reality, Fox nudged
Samantha. Perhaps if he rode off in the opposite direction from the
approaching horse, he could escape detection.

"Fox!" He stopped when he heard his name spoken sharply, and gave a
small sigh. His mother had found him.

"How many times have I told you not to ride about the grounds without a
female escort?" she scolded him as she drew near. "With your marriage to
Lady Dana but one day away, we must guard your virtue with increased
vigilance."

"Yes, Mother," he muttered, dropping his head in shame. He knew he
wasn't supposed to ride alone, but sometimes he just needed to take
Samantha and feel the wind on his face, without benefit of conversation
with another human being. Sometimes he needed to pretend that he had a
modicum of freedom, especially now, when the loss of what little he had
was imminent. "I'm sorry. I was just..."

Lady Teena smiled at her son, so shy and uneducated in the ways of the
world. "I know, my dear, but you must think of your safety at all times.
Unescorted men are an invitation to some of the seedier women of the
land, and here you sit in plain sight of the village upon Samantha's back."

"Samantha would protect me from any bad women who might threaten,
Mother," Fox laughed, patting his horse's neck, but Lady Teena was not
amused.

"You must come back to the house at once, Fox," she told him. "Lord
Walter Scully has arrived, and has asked to speak with you."

Fox looked surprised. "What does Lord Walter wish with me, Mother?" he
asked curiously, turning Samantha toward home. "I do not know him well."

Lady Teena grinned. "I believe he wishes to have a word with you before
your marriage, man to man, since your own father is not here to give you
advice," she answered. "Lord Walter has the look of a man tasked with a
chore he would put behind him rather quickly!"

Fox swallowed hard and followed his mother back toward the Mulder
stables. Manly advice. He had heard bits and pieces of what was expected
in a marriage bed, of course--all children did--but he had no idea how
much of it was accurate, or how much information he might be missing. He
shuddered. The little that he thought he knew of lovemaking was not
pleasant, at least for men. His own father had often told him that
lovemaking was his husbandly duty, that he was to serve his wife in any
way and as often as she pleased, and that his own thoughts and feelings
on the matter were unimportant.

"It's what we were made for, Fox," his father would tell him, patting
his shoulder gently. "We keep houses and estates, and raise the
children, and we leave the decisions to the women. Your only concern, as
a husband, should be in pleasing your wife and in giving her daughters."

"But Father, what if I am only able to provide my wife with sons?" he
had asked, confused, for were not sons as desirable as daughters? Did it
not require both someone's son /and/ someone's daughter to produce
another daughter? Lord William had smiled at his naive son, and sighed.
How to explain the ways of an illogical world to a boy as
straightforward as Fox?

"You will provide both sons and daughters, I hope, Fox," he answered at
last. "Daughters to carry on your wife's name, and to inherit her
estate, and sons to bring you much pleasure as you have brought me. You
have been the joy of my life, Fox. I only wish it was a fairer world I
could leave you, but such is the way of men in a woman's world. This
will never change. It's our lot to endure."

"Yes, Father," Fox had replied, but he was left with the uncomfortable
feeling that there was much about marriage Lord William had neglected to
tell him. Now, it seemed Lord Scully would step in to fill the gaps in
his knowledge.

"Lord Scully," he greeted the older man, stepping into the parlor where
his visitor awaited.

"Ah, young Fox." Walter Scully turned from the window, where he had been
surveying the Mulder gardens, and surveyed the shy young man before him.
He smiled. Dana had chosen well.

"My mother says you wish to speak to me?" Fox gestured to a chair and
his guest seated himself.

"I wanted--that is, Lady Maggie has asked me to have a talk with you,
Fox. Before your marriage tomorrow."

Fox gave a wry smile. "The talk my father should have had with me?"

"Well...yes. Tell me, Fox, are you apprehensive about your wedding night?"

"No," Fox lied. "Not at all."

Lord Walter pretended to believe the boy. "Really? I was. Both times."

Fox looked startled. "Both times, Sir?"

Walter nodded. "Oh yes. One woman's lovemaking can be quite different
from another, and I was also kept pure before my marriage to Lady Sharon."

The young man before him blushed at the frankness of his speech, and
Walter softened.

"Lady Dana is a skilled lover, I'm told," he said earnestly. "She will
be kind and gentle with you, Fox."

"I--I lied, Sir. I am afraid," Fox admitted. "I don't know what to do,
what's expected of me. And I'm afraid of the pain."

Lord Walter put both hands on Fox's shoulders and met the boy's elusive
gaze.

"The pain, Fox, is nothing to fear, I promise you. As for the
rest...well, I'll pass on the advice my father gave to me."

"What is that, Sir?"

Lord Walter got a faraway look in his eyes. "Lie there and think of
England, Fox."

"But--"

"Not to worry, my boy. Lady Dana will treat you gently. She is much
looking forward to bedding you."

"Yes, Sir," whispered Fox, staring fixedly at his shoes. The
conversation was simply too embarrassing to be borne!

"Very well, then. I must return home--there are many preparations to
oversee before tomorrow afternoon." Lord Walter stopped at the door of
the parlor and gave Fox one last, friendly smile. "I'll look forward to
having another man in the family, Fox. I've felt somewhat outnumbered
since my marriage to Lady Maggie."

Fox felt his heart sink a little further. Lady Maggie was well known for
having the randiest female servants in the district. It was difficult
enough for a man as shy as himself to endure the stares, whispers, and
touching from his mother's servants, but what would the Scully servants
do to him?

Fox shuddered delicately. It could be worse. It could be Lady Diana.

He was about to leave the parlor when his mother entered the room, and
he bowed respectfully to her.

"Did Walter reassure you, Fox?" Lady Teena asked gently, and Fox shrugged.

"I'm not sure what he was trying to tell me, Mother," he said frankly.

"Well," Lady Teena told him, seating herself on a convenient loveseat,
"you must trust your wife to take care of you. And now, Fox--drop your
breeches and get over my knee."

Fox gaped. "What? But why, Mother?"

She glared at him sternly. "You know you are expressly forbidden to ride
out without an escort, Fox, and yet you deliberately disobeyed me. You
took chances with your safety on the very day before I am to deliver you
safely into Lady Dana's hands, pure and untouched. Had some women from
the village happened to see you, all our plans might have come to naught."

Fox licked his lips nervously, glancing around as if wondering about the
feasibility of an escape, and then sighed. He had never escaped his
mother when she was bent on punishing him. There was no reason to
believe he could today. Besides, he thought angrily, should he manage to
elude Lady Teena, every female servant on the estate would aid in
locating him and gleefully dragging him back to his mother, hoping to
witness his punishment for themselves.

"I hate being a man, Mother," he grumbled, hastily lowering his breeches
and arranging himself over her thighs.

"I know, Son, but it is the way of the world," she said, before bringing
her bare hand down sharply upon his upturned bottom.

"Ow! Mother, please!" Fox yelped, surprised at the ferocity of the smack.

"Don't 'Mother, please' me, young man," Lady Teena told him, smacking
him again and yet again. "You will /not/ place yourself in danger again,
Fox. Is that clear?"

She had only delivered half a dozen blows to his unprotected backside,
but Fox already felt as if his skin had caught fire. A no-nonsense
woman, was Lady Teena, always getting right down to business.

"Yes, ma'am, I--I promise!" he cried, his breath hitching as he bit back
a sob. "I won't disobey you again!"

She rained another dozen smacks upon his sensitive flesh before allowing
him to slip off her legs and kneel beside her on the floor.

"I'm sure you won't, my son," she dimpled, "but come tomorrow, it's Lady
Dana you'll be disobeying on occasion. You'll be lucky if she doesn't
take her strap to you, unless you learn to control these wild impulses
of yours."

Fox was suddenly overcome with dread, and threw himself against his
mother's knees, wrapping his arms around her legs tightly.

"Mother, I beg of you--don't force me to marry Lady Dana," he pleaded.

"Now Fox," she said gently, brushing the tears from his face, "you have
always known the day would come when you would leave my protection and
go to become a husband. Indeed, you are far older than most men when
they are married, my dear."

"But why do I have to marry at all?" he bargained desperately. "I'll
stay here with you forever, Mother. I can take care of you."

She laughed. "A man take care of a woman? It's absurd, Fox. Besides, you
are young, and beautiful, and many women would seek your hand in
marriage. It is a fine match with Lady Scully--I had to turn away
several other suitors because I felt they would be inappropriate wives
for you, but Lady Scully is the perfect match."

"What other suitors, Mother?" he asked, hoping the respectful tone in
his voice would gain him an answer rather than further punishment; Lady
Teena did not like to be questioned.

Her face darkened for a second, then cleared. Perhaps the boy did
deserve to know--it might make him more appreciative of his current
situation.

"Lady Diana Fowley, for one," she said carelessly, and smiled inwardly
at his shudder. "She offered me much gold for your hand, and was quite
disappointed when I refused."

Fox lay his head weakly against her legs. "Thank you, Mother," he said
gratefully. "Thank you for not giving me to Lady Fowley. She's quite
frightening."

She smoothed his hair tenderly. "Indeed she is, Fox. You have had a
gentle upbringing, and I fear Lady Fowley will treat her husband badly.
She has a reputation for being quite cruel to her servants."

Fox nodded soberly. He knew about Lady Diana's cruelty to her servants
better than anyone suspected. He still felt cold chills when he thought
of poor Isaac, shivering in the rain when Fox had found him, naked, a
collar around his neck, a chain attaching him to a stake in the ground
as if he was a dog.

Fox had ridden Samantha out that day, farther than every before, and had
not realized he'd wandered onto Fowley lands until he came upon the poor
man, trapped and miserable. The man had surveyed him warily as he
slipped from Samantha's back, but had merely lain in the dirt, too weak
to move.

"I won't hurt you, Sir," Fox said, and smiled at the look the captive
gave him; he was obviously a servant, and had probably never been
addressed as 'Sir' in his entire life. Fox had been taught impeccable
manners by his father, and being the kind soul he was, they came
naturally to him, no matter the station of the person to whom he was
speaking.

"How did you come to be here?" Fox asked, and the man took several deep
breaths before answering.

"I displeased my mistress."

"You must have angered her greatly, to find yourself in such a position."

The man shrugged, saying nothing, his eyes averted.

"Who is your mistress?"

"Lady--Lady Diana Fowley," the prisoner told Fox, glancing about nervously.

Fox did the same, at the unexpected answer, and realized that he had
ridden much farther than he'd realized. This spot of land didn't look
familiar at all, and he felt fear when he realized he was upon Fowley
property. He'd known of Lady Fowley all his life, and the stories about
her cruelty were legendary.

"What did you do?" Fox asked curiously, examining the collar which held
the poor man. It was of the finest leather, but had obviously not been
well cared for, and was worn in places.

"I--I dropped my lady's supper tray," the man admitted, shamed. "It was
an accident," he added quickly. "I tripped. I'm not the most graceful of
men."

Fox smiled. "This punishment seems excessive," he observed. "How long
are you to remain here?"

The man stared at Fox, as if wondering at his stupidity, and then
realized that Fox was a member of the nobility. Being a man, no doubt he
had been punished before, but he wouldn't understand the severity with
which a male servant was disciplined.

"They left me here," he said at last. "I'm to stay here."

"For how long?" Fox asked again.

The man sighed. "Are you really that stupid? Until I die!"

Fox's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Punishment by starvation for
simply dropping a tray?

"How long have you been here?"

The man closed his eyes weakly. "I don't know," he said at last. "Days.
The rain started this afternoon--I'm hoping this will be my last day,
but I still feel some strength. I'm afraid I'll last several days longer."

"You'll last considerably longer than that," Fox said determinedly, and
cast his eyes about for a suitable tool. Cursing the law that forbade
males to carry weapons, he at last located a sharp stone beneath a tree.
Coming back to his new friend, he located the weakest spot in the
leather collar and began sawing at it with the rock.

The man stared at him in disbelief. "Do you realize what you're doing?"
he demanded quietly. "If you're caught--"

"If I'm caught, Lady Fowley could demand that I take your place," Fox
finished for him. "Don't worry, my mother is a kind Lady--she would
never let that happen."

"But you'd still be punished."

"Severely," Fox agreed. "Maybe even publicly. But I will be able to
observe my reflection in the looking glass each morning. That I could
not do, were I to leave you here to die. Can you walk, do you think?" he
asked, helping the now freed man to his feet.

The man clutched Fox's arm tightly and took a few careful steps toward
Samantha. "I think so," he said gratefully. "But not far."

Fox removed his cloak and wrapped it around the shivering man, then
helped him climb upon Samantha's back. He mounted behind the man, and
quickly urged Sam onward. He wanted to put as much distance between Lady
Fowley and himself as possible.

"What is your name?" Fox asked when they had at last escaped the Fowley
lands and were on his own territory again.

"Isaac," the man told him.

"I am Fox Mulder."

The man's back stiffened, and Fox held him steadily to prevent him
falling off the horse. "You're the one!" he exclaimed.

"The one?"

"Lady Fowley asked for your hand in marriage, and your mother refused
her. She's been in a nasty temper ever since. We had all learned to hate
you," Isaac admitted with a small smile.

"How odd that you should hate me, since I had no say in the matter.
Indeed, I did not know that Lady Fowley had asked for me, but I am quite
relieved my mother denied her. I have heard many tales about her
cruelty, and now I see they are true."

Isaac nodded soberly. "You are right to fear her, Lord Mulder."

Fox smiled. "Please, call me Fox. Nobody calls me Lord Mulder. Besides,
I am only a man--we are largely in the same situation. I was only lucky
enough to be the son of a Lady instead of a worker. I am still chattel."

"Where will you take me?"

"I'm taking you to a deserted stable on our lands. I'm sorry for the
poor accommodations," he apologized, "but you won't be detected there.
I'll have our groom, Langly, feed you and care for you until you are
well. Then, you must leave these parts. If Lady Fowley ever finds you,
you will be sentenced to death."

"And if she finds out about your hand in freeing me--"

"She won't find out," Fox said positively. "You needn't trouble yourself
further on that account."

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the stable, and Fox helped
Isaac down from Samantha's back. He settled the weakened man upon a pile
of old, musty straw, again apologizing for the surroundings.

"I will send Langly to tend to you immediately," he said. "And now, I
must return home. I will be in trouble already, for I'm not allowed to
ride out alone," he grinned.

"My Lor--Fox--your cloak," Isaac said, still shivering with the
luxurious cloak wrapped around his naked body. "You must take it."

Fox shook his head. "Keep it," he said. "You are in far worse need of it
than I."

"I--I cannot thank you," Isaac began, and Fox smiled again.

"If ever you come upon me, naked and chained, feel free to assist me,"
he told the man jovially. Then, taking his leave, he rode back toward
the Mulder mansion. He had to see to Samantha, inform Langly of their
new guest, and then face the music with his mother. Riding out alone,
and without his cloak, getting caught in a rainstorm--she was going to
be furious.

And she had been, he remembered now. His backside had suffered much over
that incident, but Fox had accepted his punishment gracefully,
comforting himself with the knowledge that he had saved a life. It was
the first truly meaningful thing he had done in all his years, and he
felt curiously wonderful, even as he kicked and screamed beneath his
mother's punishing hand.

"Enough talk of the Lady Fowley," Lady Teena said tenderly now,
observing the fear that crossed her son's face at the mention of that
Lady's name. "You should spend the rest of this evening in quiet
reflection, Son. You are about to become a husband. Your duties will be
great, but I and your father have prepared you well for them."

Fox nodded, rising to his feet and taking his leave of his mother.

'Think of England', he mused as he climbed the stairs toward his
bedroom. 'I shall lie quietly and think of England while my new wife
takes my virginity.'

He shuddered again. He only hoped Lady Dana would be a kind mistress. He
never wanted to find himself chained, naked in the rain.

End chapter 1


Fox stopped, halfway down the stairs on the way to his doom, and
listened. Two of the Mulder family's male servants were in the hallway
below the landing, and it was the sound of his own name that had given
Fox pause.

Fox disliked these two men, largely because they were well-known to be
loose with their favors. His mother had warned him against associating
with men of their ilk, lest he be branded with a reputation, and Fox had
heeded her well. Now, knowing he was the object of their speculation, he
felt his face flame.

"That Lord Fox isn't man enough for my Lady Dana," boasted the first, a
man named Tom Colton, who was a groundskeeper for the Mulder estate. Fox
had never gotten along with Tom, disliking the other man's sneering ways
and condescending manner. "She's a wild woman, is her ladyship,"
continued Colton. She likes a man who knows what's what."

"But he'll be married to her after today," commented the other servant,
Jerry Lamana. "Do you think she'll be interested in bedding a cur like
you with someone as lovely as Fox warming her bed?"

Colton laughed. "Oh, he's pretty all right, but he'll not know what to
do or how to please her. Mark my words, Jerry my boy, Lady Dana will be
calling for my services soon enough."

Fox trembled with fury at the conversation below, but kept his peace,
remaining still and quiet on the stairs.

"She is lovely, is Lady Dana," Jerry mused. "Fox and I have been friends
all our lives. He's always shared his things with me. Perhaps I should
let the Lady Dana know that I'm available."

Colton laughed again and slapped Jerry on the back. "Of course you're
available, lad," he crowed. "You're a man! It's our lot in life to
please the women, eh?"

The two servants carried their laughter outside, and Fox fumed. So
Colton thought that Lady Dana would continue bedding him even after her
marriage, did he? And Jerry--as long as Fox could remember, Jerry had
helped himself to Fox's things, always with the excuse, 'I knew you
wouldn't mind.' Fox had minded, all right, but he had been too polite
and gracious to mention it. Sharing his wife, though--it simply wasn't
to be borne!

Of course, Fox knew that should Lady Dana desire to take a lover, nobody
would think less of her. A woman could indulge herself in all manner of
indiscretions and still be well-regarded socially, but should a man be
found in the bed of a woman who was not his wife, he'd be lucky to
escape with life and limb intact.

A lady had complete authority over her son or her husband, legally able
to do anything she wished with him short of murder. Even that was
sometimes brushed beneath the carpet, as Fox well knew--there had been
cases where a husband had died under mysterious circumstances, the
flimsiest of alibis and excuses offered by the lady, and no action was
taken. No lady of the nobility was ever going to go to prison for the
killing of a mere man. It was simply unthinkable. That was why Lady
Diana was able to treat her servants so poorly and nothing was done to
stop her. Fox pitied the poor man who ended up as Lord Fowley.

He shivered when he remembered how Colton had described Lady Dana. 'A
wild woman.' How wild was she, exactly? And how wild would she be with
him, an inexperienced virgin? Would she be gentle and patient, or
callous and uncaring of his apprehension? He remembered her as a kind
person, but that had been in childhood. Perhaps her time in the army had
changed her, hardened her.

Fox was suddenly gripped with incredible panic, and the only thought on
his mind was escape. The carriage was waiting in the drive, to take him
and his mother to the Scully estate, to change his life forever. Once he
belonged to Lady Dana, she could do as she wished with him--beat him,
starve him, rape him, or lock him in the cellar for the rest of his life.

Glancing around nervously, Fox forged ahead, acting without planning, as
he was occasionally wont to do. If he could make it to the stables and
saddle up Samantha without being seen, perhaps he could elude everyone
for a few hours--long enough to get away. But where would he go?

He made certain the back hall was clear of servants, and slipped out the
service door. It was nearer the stables, and he couldn't go out the
front door--the carriage was there. He made his way carefully to the
stables, and slipped into Samantha's stall. Hastily, being as quiet as
he could, he saddled her and climbed upon her back. He urged Samantha
out to the stable yard, and was just about to make what he thought was a
clean escape down the road when a voice behind him halted his progress.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Fox pulled on the reigns and Samantha stopped. He sighed and closed his
eyes briefly in defeat. It was Langly, the groom.

Fox turned to face the man with the long blond locks, who stood glaring
at him, arms crossed sternly over his chest.

"I'm going for a ride to calm my nerves," Fox told him steadily, heart
beating rapidly in his chest, hoping against hope that Langly didn't
realize the wedding was less than two hours away.

But Langly did realize, and he shook his head, grinning. "Fox, you'll be
the death of me. Don't you realize the carriage is already waiting?"

Fox cast a quick glance toward the front of the mansion, then turned
back to Langly. "Please, Langly," he implored. "Can't you just pretend
you didn't see me?"

Langly shook his head stubbornly. "I'm afraid not, Fox. If Lady Teena
questions me--"

"Tell her I hit you on the head and stole Samantha!" Fox interrupted
eagerly. "Tell her anything you like, only please let me go--I have to
get away!"

Langly knew he should agree, but he had always had trouble denying Lord
Fox anything--those beautiful hazel eyes could coax him into any manner
of bad decisions.

"All right," he sighed at last, "but if your mother questions me, I'm
going to tell her you ran away."

"Just don't tell her where I've gone," Fox said, clicking his tongue at
Samantha to get her moving.

"Where /are/ you going?"

"Don't know yet," called Fox over his shoulder, and moments later he had
disappeared around a bend in the road.

Langly shook his head and went back into the stables. There was going to
be hell to pay over this, he could feel it in his bones.



Dana paced angrily back and forth in the great hall of the Scully
estate. The weddings guests were all assembled, the banquet was
prepared, the vicar was present--the only thing missing was the groom.
Lady Teena should have arrived half an hour ago with Fox, but so far
there had been no word nor sign of them. Vicar White, an understanding
woman, had tried to placate Dana by reminding her that Fox was a shy
young virgin, and that he had probably needed a little extra coaxing to
entice him to the wedding.

"Coaxing be damned!" Dana growled at last. "What that boy needs is some
firm discipline!"

Lord Walter, seeing his own wife's dark face, cast quickly about his
mind for a solution. Lady Maggie was usually kind and fair, but she was
not above taking out her anger on his backside at times, and he had no
desire to go to bed sore tonight because of her fury at Fox.

"Perhaps I should ride over and see what is keeping them?" he asked Lady
Maggie, and she nodded curtly. Lord Walter left the hall, already
planning the revenge he would take upon Fox, should he suffer for the
boy's actions. The Scully estate was equipped with a very secure set of
stocks, as he already had discovered to his chagrin.

He'd just reached the front steps when Lady Teena's carriage pulled to a
stop, and he smiled. Here they were now, and only half an hour late--not
bad for a shy bridegroom, really, and perfectly understandable. His
smile faded when Lady Teena, looking grim, emerged alone.

"My--my Lady," he said questioningly, "Where is Lord Fox?"

"You know as much about his whereabouts as do I, Walter," Lady Teena
said in a voice that was calmly furious.

"Teena, what has happened?" asked Maggie from behind them, and Teena
sighed.

"My son has taken flight, I'm afraid, Maggie," she confessed. "It seems
he was more frightened of his impending marriage than I had guessed."

"If he isn't now, he will be when I find him," Lady Dana promised
darkly, and Maggie smiled. She had no doubts of her daughter's ability
to control Fox, once he was legally bound to her.

"The boy must have ridden toward London," Teena surmised. "He took his
horse, and Langly, the groom, insists Fox hit him over the head and
knocked him silly in order to steal Samantha, but he's lying. Fox would
no more hit Langly on the head than he would hit me."

"Walter, disperse the wedding guests," Lady Maggie ordered, turning to
her husband. "Give them our apologies and send them on their way.
There's no telling when we'll find the boy. Lady Teena and I will ride
north toward London to look for him. I only hope we find him before he
gets captured by a band of highway women. A man as pretty as Fox, out on
his own...we must hurry. Dana, are you coming?"

"You go on ahead, Mother," Dana replied, chewing her lip thoughtfully.
"I have another idea where Fox might have gone."

Leaving Walter to bid her guests goodbye, Dana saddled Thunder and
headed south. Fox wouldn't go to London alone--he didn't know a soul
there. He did, however, know someone in the next village to the south.
His cousin Jake. She remembered Jake from their childhood, an attractive
boy, almost as pretty as Fox, and they shared many of the same features.
The boys had always been close friends. Naturally, Fox would flee to
Jake for help. He had nowhere else to go.



Fox rode south, knowing they would expect him to go north to London, and
kept Samantha off the well-traveled road. He watched the sun sink lower
and lower in the sky, and with it sank his stomach as well, for in his
heart, Fox knew his escape was only temporary; Lady Dana was not a woman
to be thwarted, and sooner or later they would find him.

At first, Fox was able to keep his doubts at bay, but as the afternoon
waned, so did his confidence. What was he thinking, running away from
home and leaving Lady Dana standing at the alter like this? She was a
good, kind woman, and powerful enough to protect him from anyone who
might want to harm him. He was acting like a fool.

His own mother had told him that Lady Diana had asked for his hand--he
had seen for himself how that particular lady treated her servants when
she was angry. He should be on his knees thanking Lady Teena for
arranging such a wonderful match for him, and instead he was running
away like the most ungrateful of sons. He should be flogged.

Indeed, he thought ruefully, he probably would be, for now his
conscience had gotten involved, and he found he had no choice but to
turn back. He would ride Samantha directly to the Scully estate, beg
Lady Dana's forgiveness for deserting her this afternoon, and pray that
she would still accept him as her husband. Never one to hesitate once
his mind was made up, Fox turned Samantha around and started toward his
village.

He hadn't gone far when he heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching from
the south. Urging Samantha deeper into the forest, Fox rode a little
faster--he didn't want to be heard, but neither did he wish to be
overtaken. A man traveling alone could never be too careful.

His heart began pounding wildly in his chest when he heard female voices
drawing nearer. There had to be several of them--three or four at least.
Crossing his fingers, Fox made Samantha go still faster, hoping to reach
the Scully land before the women discovered his presence.

His hopes were dashed in the next instant when he found himself
surrounded by six of them. With a sinking heart, he recognized the
symbol they wore on their shoulders-- they were Lady Fowley's servants.

"Well what have we here?" asked one of the women, her eyes twinkling
mischievously. "It looks like a stray Fox, out all alone."

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me--" Fox began, but got no further.

Ignoring his protests, the women dismounted and, grabbing at Fox
eagerly, pulled him from Samantha's back. He struggled against the hands
that gripped his legs and arms, but was hopelessly outnumbered. He did
manage to wriggle partially away from them once, but they grabbed his
legs and began dragging him into the forest.

"Help!" Fox yelled, but the sound was muffled when he ended up with a
mouthful of dirt and leaves. Tears came to his eyes as his arms, face
and chest scraped across the ground.

At last, they stopped dragging him and dropped his legs. Fox immediately
scrambled to his feet, but the women were too fast for him. They hauled
him up and slammed him against the trunk of a large tree, holding him in
place while one of the women wound a long rope around the trunk, tying
him in place. When the knots were secured, Fox was helplessly
restrained--he tried pulling free but could make no headway. Despairing,
he sagged against the tree, blinking back tears of fright.



Dana rode quickly along the south road out of the village, watching for
any signs of Fox along the way. She had gone about five miles when she
was taken aback at the sight of a horse running madly in the opposite
direction. It had lost its rider somewhere along the way, and from the
brief glimpse Dana caught, she was almost certain it was Fox's horse,
Samantha. Her face darkened as she rode on, planning just how she was
going to punish her wayward groom when he was safely under her control.
Dana didn't enjoy being made to look a fool, and Fox would suffer for
ditching her at the altar. She would make certain of it. And if the
little fool had gotten himself into trouble...she shook her head angrily
and rode on.

She was nearing the Fowley land, and Dana imagined she could smell the
stench in the air. Glory, but she hated Diana Fowley. The woman was
absolutely evil, cruel to servants and equals alike. One day, Dana
ambitioned, she was going to kill Diana. But not today. Today she had to
find her soon-to-be-chastened, soon-to-be-husband and drag him home.

Her attention was captured by noises off to the right, and Dana pulled
Thunder to a stop and listened. Laughter. Female laughter. Her lips
pressed grimly together, she continued in the direction of the voices,
hoping Fox was still in one piece when she arrived. She moved faster
when she heard Fox pleading desperately.

"Don't do that! Let me go! Lady Dana will never let you get away with
this!"

So, the little idiot had managed to find trouble after all; she should
have guessed he would. Fox had been a trouble magnet when they were
children, and obviously he had not changed. She'd rescue him, all
right--then she'd make him sorry.

"But Lady Dana isn't here," one of the women reminded him, and Dana's
eyes narrowed when she saw the woman in question pulling Fox's ripped
shirt aside so she could fondle his chest. "We're going to have a bit of
fun with you ourselves, then take you on to Lady Fowley. She's had her
eye on you for a long time."

Fox had been tied to a tree, and six women surrounded him, all taking
liberties with his person in ways that would have made any
well-protected man like Fox blush in mortification. His hair was mussed
and his shirt ruined, but his breeches were still fastened, she noted
with satisfaction. They obviously hadn't been tormenting him for long.
Her Fox was still a virgin, if a little roughed up and frightened.

Dana raised her pistol into the air and fired one shot, and seven heads
jerked toward her. The identical look of surprise on six female faces
was comical, but it was the expression of sheer relief on Fox's
countenance that touched her heart. He was so beautiful, and so achingly
innocent still.

"Ladies, I see you found my missing groom," Dana said easily. "Thank you
for detaining him for me. You may leave us now."

The Fowley servants, all unarmed and none of them stupid, quickly
mounted their horses and vacated the area, leaving Fox at Lady Dana's
mercy.

She climbed down from Thunder's back and approached him slowly, and Fox
closed his eyes fearfully, willing his breathing to resume. At last,
when she said nothing, he opened them and gave her a pleading hazel gaze.

Her expression was amused. "Did they hurt you?" she asked solicitously.

He shook his head.

"Good." She walked around the tree, inspecting him, but did not release
him. "I don't suppose you have an explanation for this?" she asked when
she again stood before him.

Fox shook his head again, knowing that any excuse he offered would
likely make his situation worse.

"Where's your horse?"

"She ran," Fox said disgustedly. "She's probably back home eating her
supper by now."

"Exactly where you ought to be."

He closed his eyes again, resting his head against the tree, and
wondered if she would kill him nor or marry him first, just to make it
pseudo-legal.

"I'm not such a bad person, you know."

Her words startled him, and his eyes flew open again. "I know," he
muttered, staring at the ground.

"I can't understand why you would want to run away from me. I've never
been unkind to you. Were you really that afraid of marriage, Fox?"

"I wasn't afraid!" he protested proudly, but his pride faltered when she
leaned close and spoke to him in a low, husky voice that sent a tingle
throughout his body.

"You're already in more trouble than you can imagine," she informed him
softly. "Don't compound your punishment by lying to me now."

He kept up the pretense a moment longer, then dropped his head in shame.
"I'm sorry, Lady Dana," he whispered. "I lied to you. I was afraid, but
I was also angry."

"Angry at me?" she questioned, cocking her eyebrow at him in a way that
he found strangely endearing.

"I know you've been having affairs with lots of men," he told her
defiantly.

She looked even more amused at his statement. "Define 'lots'."

"Well..." He paused, but she waited patiently. "Tom Colton," he finally
burst out. "And Jerry Lamana. Two of my family's own servants, Lady
Dana! And they expect to continue serving you whenever you wish their
company, even after we're married! I know it isn't fashionable for women
to be faithful to their husbands, but I would hope you would at least
show me the respect--"

"Hush!" Dana thundered, and Fox clamped his luscious lips shut
immediately. "I've never taken Jerry Lamana, nor would I. The man is a
weasel. As for Tom..." She placed her hands on either side of his head
and forced him to look her in the eyes. "I did have Tom once. It was...
less than memorable. Besides, Tom is too aggressive for my tastes. I do
the pursuing in a relationship--I don't want a man pursuing me. It's
unseemly."

He gazed down at her honest blue eyes and knew she was telling the truth.

"What about the others?" he asked in a small voice. "Will you-- have
other lovers after we're married?"

She considered his question. "I will if I choose, for it's a wife's
prerogative to do so," she told him firmly. "On the other hand, I expect
to keep myself quite busy with you," she added, her eyes twinkling. "I
doubt I'll have time for other men. Now--would you like me to release
you from the tree?"

"Please," he said gratefully.

Dana pulled out her dagger and sliced through the ropes that bound him,
and moments later Fox was free. He rubbed the circulation back into his
arms while he stared at the forest around them.

"It's getting dark," he observed.

"Indeed it is."

"It's a long walk back home."

"And by all rights, I should make you walk it," she told him icily. "I
should tie a rope about your neck, attach it to my saddle, and force you
to walk every step of the way home."

He shuddered, and his lower lip trembled a bit. Dana softened at the
sight. She had plans for that lip, that tongue, that entire wonderful
mouth, and she didn't want Fox to be too exhausted to please her in
their marriage bed, so she relented. Removing Thunder's saddle, she
placed it on the ground at the base of the tree.

"I'll send a servant to fetch it," she told him. "We'll ride home
bareback. Now, up with you."

He made as if to throw his leg over the horse's back, and she stopped him.

"Not like that. You're riding in front of me, with your bottom well
within my reach."

Fox glared at her, but in the end he really had no choice. He managed to
climb onto the horse's back and situate himself to her satisfaction, and
tried not to wince in anticipation when Dana mounted behind him. His
head and arms hung down on one side of the horse and his long legs on
the other, leaving his defenseless bottom directly in her line of fire.

Dana surveyed the shapely behind, encased in tight tan breeches, and
smiled. Marriage was going to be fun. She landed a hard smack on each of
the well-rounded cheeks, and was rewarded with a satisfying yelp from
her future husband.

"You should thank me, Fox," she said mildly as they started toward home.
"I saved you from a fate worse than death."

She was right, damn it! he fumed, and mumbled, "Thank you, Lady Dana.
Hey! Stop that!" he yelled as her smacks grew harder.

"I couldn't hear you, Fox."

"I said thank you, damn it!" he groused, and nearly fell off the horse
as he squirmed to avoid another slap to his buttocks.

"Whoa, Thunder," Dana called, and the big gelding paused obediently,
waiting patiently while Dana yanked Fox's arms up behind his back and
bound his wrists together with a piece of rope she'd salvaged from the
tree. "I had a feeling this might come in handy," she commented,
flicking the reigns to start Thunder moving again.

Fox groaned, feeling the soreness in his arms returning now that they
were tied again, but said nothing more. The ache in his arms was nothing
compared to the stinging in his bottom that grew worse with every step,
and they were still several miles from home. He was in no position to
argue.

By the time they approached the Scully mansion, Fox was sniffing back
tears, hanging limply across Thunder.

"Please Dana, no more," he whimpered as her hand struck his behind yet
again. She had dealt out a firm spanking all the way home, not too hard,
but never pausing either, and by now Fox felt as if his buttocks had
surely caught fire.

His face flamed with embarrassment as they rode up the carriageway on
Thunder's back, his punished bottom upturned for all to see. At least he
was still clothed, he thought gratefully. Had it been his mother
spanking him, his backside would have been bared, regardless of who was
in attendance. Lady Dana had at least done him the kindness of allowing
him to remain covered.

"I see you found him," Lady Maggie remarked calmly as Dana pulled
Thunder to a halt.

"Diana Fowley's servants had captured him," Dana reported, feeling anger
surge back into her at the memory of what might have happened to Fox.
"They would have undoubtedly turned him over to the Lady Fowley once
they'd had their fun."

"Oh, Fox, are you all right?" Lady Teena asked anxiously, examining her
son, who still lay sprawled over Thunder's back.

"He is," Dana answered for him. "For now. Mother is the vicar still here?"

"Oh yes, I had her wait," Maggie smiled. "I knew when Teena and I found
no trace of Fox on the road to London, that you would be bringing him
back. Fox," she walked around the horse to face her disobedient
son-in-law. "You were very naughty to worry us all this way, and to
place yourself in danger. I do hope my daughter takes a firm hand with
you once you're married."

"Speaking of marriage, let's get the deed done," Dana interrupted,
stalking toward the house. "Walter, would you see to Fox?"

Lord Walter helped Fox down from the horse, and they both turned when
Dana's voice floated back to them, "And don't untie him!"

Walter, who had been about to free Fox's hands, dropped them instead and
took Fox by the arm. Ignoring the younger man's pleading looks, he
ushered Fox inside and into the small salon where the vicar waited.

"Ah, Lord Fox," Vicar White smiled. "I'm so happy that you were found
unharmed. Shall we proceed, then?"

She performed the marriage ceremony quickly, ignoring the fact that the
groom was filthy and still had his hands tied behind his back, and
within a few minutes, Fox Mulder had ceased being his mother's property
and had become Fox Mulder Scully, husband and chattel of Lady Dana. As
soon as the marriage was completed and the papers all signed, Dana
excused herself and Fox.

"Fox has had a long day," she offered. "I'm certain he'd like a bath,
and a rest."

Lady Maggie and Lady Teena smiled at one another, and Fox glanced
desperately toward Lord Walter as his new wife pulled him from the room.

"England," mouthed Walter in his direction, and Fox shuddered.

He was certain his lady and mistress was about to punish him severely
for running away and endangering himself this afternoon, and then she
was going to take his virginity. He didn't know which he feared most.

Lady Dana marched her husband up the stairs, giving him a light shove
each time he appeared to be slowing, and long before Fox was prepared,
they had reached the upper floor. At the top of the stairs she turned
left, and they walked down a long corridor and through a set of massive
double wooden doors.

"This is the East Wing," Dana informed him as she closed the doors,
effectively cutting him off from his mother, Lady Maggie, Lord Walter,
and any servants who might be inclined to come to his rescue. Fox
swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to pay attention to what Lady
Dana was saying.

"This is our part of the mansion. Mother and Lord Walter occupy the West
Wing. We all take our meals together as a family, downstairs. As my
husband, you will naturally be expected to take over the running of my
household. Tomorrow I'll take you around the estate and introduce you to
all the servants."

"Yes, my lady," Fox whispered, following as she led the way to an
enormous bed chamber.

A tub of steaming water sat in the center of the floor, but Fox could
barely tear his eyes from the huge bed that dominated the room. He
swallowed again, trying to quell his fear. By the time this night was
through, he would no longer be a virgin. How badly would she hurt him?
He sighed. He wouldn't know until it happened, and there was nothing he
could do about it anyway; his hands were still bound behind his back.

He glanced toward his wife, who had moved toward the tub, and blushed
when he realized she was quite unselfconsciously shedding her clothes.
Naked, she stepped into the tub of water and relaxed against it, closing
her eyes.

"You certainly led me a merry chase today," she commented lazily.

"I'm sorry, Lady Dana. I shouldn't have run." Fox tried to insert just
enough contrition into his voice that Dana wouldn't open her eyes and
see him edging slowly toward the door.

"You certainly shouldn't have," she agreed, grabbing a cloth and
beginning to scrub her skin clean. "If you ever run away from me again,
I'll take my crop to your backside."

Fox didn't respond, just moved a little closer to the chamber door and
possible freedom.

Quickly finishing her bath, Dana stood and reached for the drying towel
that a servant had laid out on a nearby chair. She dried her body and
then threw the towel over her head to rub at her hair.

As soon as Dana's face was hidden by the towel, Fox lunged for the door,
scrabbling for the doorknob blindly behind his back. He managed to get
hold of the knob and twisted it frantically, realizing too late that she
had locked them in the bed chamber. Fox froze, watching fearfully as his
wife tossed the towel aside and approached him, anger darkening her
features.

She was still naked, and he couldn't help staring at her raw beauty as
she drew near. He felt his blush creeping up from his neck until it
reached his hairline, but still was unable to tear his eyes from her
naked form.

"Did I not inform you, only moments ago, of what would happen to you
should you try to run again?" she questioned silkily.

His mouth dropped open and he felt his stomach turn to water.
"I--I--uh--" he managed before she grabbed him by the rope that bound
his wrists and flung him to the bed.

Fox tried desperately to wriggle away from her, but Dana planted herself
firmly on his legs, and before he knew what had happened she had tied
one of his ankles to a bedpost with her scarf. Then she rose and,
opening a closet, withdrew three more long, colorful scarves. Fox buried
his face in the coverlet while she proceeded to tie his other ankle to
the bed, then cut the rope that bound his wrists and followed suit with
them. Soon he was spread-eagled on the bed, face down, awaiting whatever
punishment she chose to inflict upon him. He could already anticipate
the burning in his still-stinging backside.

Dana climbed upon him, straddling his hips, and Fox glanced around to
see what she was doing. His face drained when she withdrew her dagger,
and he was unable to suppress his gasp of fear.

She smiled mirthlessly and, pulling his ruined shirt from his breeches,
sliced away at the fabric until it was nothing but rags. She tossed the
remnants of cloth aside and then disposed of his breeches in the same
manner. He now lay before her clad in nothing but his riding boots. He
buried his face again, trying to ignore his feelings of shame.

"What did I say I would do to you if you ran again, Fox?" she demanded
gently, twining her fingers in his silky hair and turning his face to hers.

Fox clenched his eyes tightly shut. "You said you'd take your crop to me."

"So I did," she agreed. "And you had already earned yourself one
punishment for running away and leaving me waiting for you at the altar.
You're not off to a very good beginning, are you, my dear?"

"My lady--" he began desperately, but she interrupted.

"I think, under the circumstances, you should simply call me 'Dana,' she
told him calmly. "After all, Fox, you belong to me now. I'm your wife.
In a few minutes, I'm going to punish you for your wrongdoings. Then you
are going to get into the tub and wash the day's grime off yourself.
After that, you will come to my bed and I will take your virginity. This
is still our wedding night, even though you've been dreadfully naughty."

She climbed off the bed and began roaming about the room. Fox tracked
her with his eyes as far as he could, but lost sight of her behind a
dressing screen.

"Lady--Dana?" he said tremulously.

She poked her head around the screen. "Yes, Fox?"

"Please--I'm sorry for trying to run. I'm really sorry for standing you
up today. I promise I'll never do anything like that again."

She smiled at him. "I know you won't."

"Does that mean you won't punish me?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed out loud at that. "No, Fox," she informed him brightly,
returning from the other side of the screen with a nasty looking crop in
her hand. "It means that by the time I've finished punishing you, you'll
never think about running away from me again."

Before he had time to protest, the crop fell on his bare ass and Fox
screamed. It felt like a streak of fire had branded his skin. Lady Teena
had been fondest of using her bare hand, and no punishment she had meted
out to him had ever hurt this badly. He had gravely underestimated his
new Lady.

The crop made a swishing sound through the air and fell again, hitting
him directly beneath the first mark.

"Oh, please!" he cried, chocking back sobs. "Please, Dana, I promise to
be good!"

"Oh, you'll be good, all right," she said grimly, laying a third welt
beneath the previous two.

Fox twisted and squirmed, tugging with all his might at the scarves, but
Dana had tied him tightly and he was helpless. Her crop fell again and
again on his unprotected skin, and soon he was a sobbing wreck.

"Are you going to run away again?" she demanded, laying strokes four and
five on his tender thighs.

"No! No! I swear it!" he promised fervently. "Please, please stop!"

"Are you ever going to keep me waiting again?"

"Oh! OW! No, never!"

"Are you ever going to ride off without an escort again?" she continued,
landing the hardest stroke of all right across the crease at the top of
his thighs.

He screamed again, jerking madly to try and escape her punishing crop.
"No! Please! Please no more..." He dissolved into helpless cries of
agony, and Dana felt her heart melt. He was just so cute, this husband
of hers, especially sobbing his heart out into the coverlet while his
lovely backside glowed with the marks of her ownership.

She sat beside him on the bed, petting his silken back and caressing his
sweat-soaked hair. "Shh...there, now, it's all over," she murmured
soothingly. "You earned that punishment well, but you've paid the price
now. It's all right."

Fox cried until he had no more tears left, then he simply lay there,
exhausted, and let her stroke him up and down his back. Occasionally her
had would roam lightly over his buttocks and he would wince.

Dana saw, and smiled. Her lovely new possession would not soon forget
this punishment, of that she was certain.

Fox came back to awareness when he realized she was loosening the
scarves that tied him. He opened his eyes and glanced at her warily.

"Into the bath with you," she said tenderly. "Wash yourself quickly and
then return to me. I wish to make love to my new husband."

He obeyed, hissing in pain as his burning bottom met the cooling water.
Hastily, Fox scrubbed away the dirt that he had accumulated during his
adventure, and within in minutes presented himself before his wife, a
drying towel wrapped securely around his waist. She reached out one
hand, with an evil smile, and flicked it away. Fox felt his face burn
again.

"Lie on the bed on your back," she instructed, and he sighed when she
began fastening him to the bed with the scarves again.

"Please Dana, no more," he whimpered softly as she completed her task.

"Shh, darling, no more punishment tonight, just pleasure," she promised,
dousing the lantern.

"Pleasure?" he asked, feeling his panic already beginning to rise as she
slipped into bed beside him in the darkened room. "There's no pleasure
for a man in lovemaking."

She lay beside him, and he heard her laugh softly as her hands began
roaming over his chest. He felt his nipples tighten, and was aware of a
not-unpleasant ache between his legs.

"I know that's what you've been told," she informed him gently. "The man
is supposed to lie quietly while his lady takes her pleasure, and he is
to hide his own discomfort."

"Isn't that true?" he asked, turning wide eyes to her in the moonlight.

She shook her head, smiling so broadly he could see her teeth gleaming
in the darkness. "No, my love. Not always. Not for us, I hope. I would
like you to gain as much pleasure from our lovemaking as I."

"But I thought--" He stopped, feeling his face flame for what had to be
the thousandth time that day.

"What did you think?"

"I thought--that is, I was told--that sex was just for making babies.
That once you'd gained seed from me and gotten with child, you would--"

She laughed out loud. "That I would leave you alone?"

He nodded, ashamed.

"Fox, my beautiful, beautiful Fox. Sex is for making babies, but it is
also for pleasure between a woman and a man. Pleasure for /both/
parties. I hope to have you father many of my children, but more than
that, I very much want you to crave my touch and my lovemaking."

He was silent for a long moment, and then she heard a whispered, "I
don't see how that's possible."

"Lie there, darling, and let me show you."

'England,' he thought frantically as she began to kiss his chest and
belly. 'England. What the hell am I supposed to /think/ about England?
It's where I live, where I'll always live. Big deal. What is thinking
about England supposed to do for me oh my God what is she doing?'

Her mouth had found his sex, and as Fox twisted and writhed against his
bonds, in pleasure this time rather than in pain, Dana licked and sucked
and coaxed him to a hardness he'd never before believed possible.

"Please... Dana... please... I need..."

"What do you need, Fox?" she asked impishly, raising her head to stare
at his luminous eyes.

"I--I--" Fox didn't know what he needed, but he knew if he didn't
receive it soon, he'd die.

Like most gently reared men, he'd never experienced the completion of
his arousal before. In the past, whenever inappropriate thoughts had led
him anywhere near this state, he'd managed to calm his fire with a cold
bath or a run around the Mulder properties. It had never occurred to him
to wonder what would happen if these steps weren't taken. He had always
feared such a thing, knowing that failure to calm his burgeoning manhood
was bound to bring about the pain that men felt when they lost their
virginity.

His thrashing grew more intense as the tightness in his groin increased,
and when she swallowed him whole again, Fox felt a tension invade his
entire body, and then he was screaming her name, and fluid was leaking
from him into her mouth, and he was bucking up, pushing upwards into
her, completely without his senses.

As Fox gradually floated back down to awareness, he slowly realized that
his wife was cleaning him off, lapping eagerly at the fluid that had
escaped from his sex.

"What... what happened?" he asked groggily.

"You reached your man's release," she told him in a satisfied voice.
"Did it hurt?"

He shook his head in wonderment. "It was the most incredible thing I've
ever felt," he told her seriously. "But what is all this...?"

"That's your seed."

"My seed? I had no idea it would be so messy."

She laughed again. "Don't worry about it, dear. I'll clean you all up."

"Are you pregnant now, Dana?" he asked sleepily as he felt her releasing
the scarves that bound him.

She chuckled to herself at his innocence. Fox had so much to learn, and
she would delight in teaching him every wonderful thing about her body
and his own.

"No, Fox, for me to get pregnant, you must spill your seed inside me."

"But I did, in your mouth," he argued, clearly puzzled.

"You must spill it in my womb, in my woman's sex," she told him. "Now go
to sleep. Tomorrow, I'll let you experience that pleasure again, and
I'll teach you how to pleasure me as well."

Fox snuggled obediently into her arms and was soon fast asleep.

END Chapter 2


Fox was awakened very early in the morning by an odd sensation between
his legs. It felt like feathers caressing him, and he giggled before
opening his eyes. When he did, he saw wisps of Dana's red hair tickling
his sex.

"What are you doing?" he giggled again. "That tickles!"

"I'm playing with my new toy," she told him smugly. "I rather like your
body, Fox. You're quite beautiful."

Fox was embarrassed at her praise, but felt himself growing more
aroused, and for a moment he was frightened. Would she take him into her
woman's sex this time? Would this be the pain that boys were warned
about when they lost their virginity? But it hadn't hurt last night, it
had been wonderful. His toes tingled when he remembered the sensation.
Maybe spilling his seed into Dana's mouth didn't count as losing his
virginity. Maybe that hurdle was still to be jumped.

"Dana?" he asked tremulously, reaching down to gently push her away from
himself. "When is it going to hurt me? Can't we just get it over with?"

She laughed aloud, and he felt his face flush with anger. She was
actually laughing at his fear! Humiliated, he turned on his side, facing
away from her, and closed his eyes. He opened them again with a loud
yelp when her hand smacked his bottom.

"What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing at the red mark she'd left on
his cheek.

"General insolence," she replied, rising from the bed and pulling the
bell to summon a servant. "I won't tolerate this attitude from you, Fox,
especially not in the morning. I want you sunny and cheerful in my bed
when I awaken every day. It's a husband's job to please his wife."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes on the floor. A familiar sense of
failure crept in. "I guess I haven't done my job very well so far, have I?"

Dana softened at his wistful tone. "You've done all right," she said,
ruffling his hair. "The first time is always frightening for a man, but
I promise you, Fox, the fear of pain is merely something fathers pass on
to keep their sons pure until their marriage. I'm not going to hurt
you." She grinned impishly. "Well, not in that way, at least. But I will
spank your bottom if you're not suitably covered by the time the bath
water arrives. I don't want the servants gawking at you whilst you're in
my bed chamber."

She tossed him a robe, which he donned quickly, hoping to avoid further
punishment, and was covered in the nick of time. He was still tying the
sash around himself when a knock sounded.

"Enter," called Dana, and the door opened to reveal six servants lugging
huge buckets of steaming water.

Fox felt their curious eyes upon him, and kept his own gaze fixed
studiously on his bare feet until they left. So intent was he on
ignoring everyone else in the room that he didn't realize Dana had
approached him until she was tugging at the sash, and his robe fell to
the floor.

He gasped and tried to turn away, but Dana was too quick for him. She
soon had him pinned against the wall, her hands running up and down the
length of his chest. He felt his breathing grow heavy as his sex began
to awaken and press into her belly.

"Dana... I... really think we should... get in the bath..." he panted,
trying desperately to avoid the probing fingers that were drifting
lower, lower and twining in the hair surrounding his manhood. He winced
as she tugged at the sensitive hairs, and she smiled.

"You're right," she agreed, wrapping her fingers firmly around his sex
and beginning to back toward the tub. He had no choice but to follow, as
she had the most sensitive part of his body held captive.

She helped him climb into the tub, and then he was horrified to see that
she climbed in with him. He had never shared a bath with anyone in his
life, and certainly not a woman!

"There's not really room--" he began, but she stopped him by devouring
his mouth with her own.

Fox had never been kissed like this--oh, he'd been kissed before, of
course. A few stolen pecks behind the barn with one of the housemaids,
and then there had been the little girl who lived on the neighboring
property when they were both kids, but he'd never felt his head swim and
his body go weak the way it was right now. Her kiss was hypnotic.

"Please... Dana..." he moaned, and she smiled against his lips.

Suddenly, without speaking a word, she shifted position, and he felt her
raise herself a little and grasp his sex, and then she was--oh goodness,
she /wasn't/--she was--she was /sitting/ on him--no, she was slipping
him inside herself... this simply couldn't be, it simply wasn't done, it
was horrible, it was... it was... wonderful...

Fox felt his dizziness increase as his manhood was engulfed by her
smooth woman's flesh. Dana was moving up and down, stimulating nerve
endings he hadn't known he possessed, and he cried out his pleasure as
she increased her pace.

"Oh please, please," he whimpered, not knowing what he was pleading for,
not knowing exactly what was happening, but only knowing it had to be
the most incredible sensation of his life, this couldn't possibly be
legal, this thing that felt so good, and then she was leaning forward,
kissing him, her tongue darting into his mouth and claiming him
possessively.

Without warning, she drew away from his mouth, threw her head back and
emitted an animal sound of pure pleasure. At the same time, Fox felt his
seed begin to spill from his body into hers. He pushed against her over
and over again, convulsing in the throes of his pleasure, until he was
completely spent. Breathlessly, he collapsed against the back of the tub
while she lay softly on his chest, her head nestled beneath his chin. He
felt her kiss on his shoulder, and sighed contentedly. Being married
wasn't so bad. Not bad at all. A bit embarrassing, perhaps, but
blissful, nonetheless.

"Fox, wake up." He opened his eyes to find her patting his cheek, the
water grown quite cold in the tub. He shivered.

"You fell asleep," she smiled, "and I decided to let you have a little
nap. "You must be exhausted after last night and this morning."

Fox averted his eyes, discomfited at her reference to their lovemaking
activities, and climbed from the tub. He glanced at himself, still
sticky with the remnants of their passion, and bit his lip. He didn't
want to complain, but he certainly didn't relish the thought of getting
dressed while still covered with the evidence of being taken so thoroughly.

She seemed to read his mind. "It's all right, I've already rung for more
water," she told him, and laughed when he darted beneath the covers at
the knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, and the same six servants entered, bearing more
water.

Fox buried his flaming face in his hands, knowing all the servants were
aware of what had happened, knowing that while their eyes were on their
task, their smirks were directed at him. After behaving so wantonly,
giving himself up completely to his new wife's sexual demands and
enjoying her attentions like a backstreet slut, he now had to be stared
at by the servants, people he knew for a fact gossiped outrageously. His
humiliation was complete.

When the servants had at last departed, Dana ordered Fox into the bath
while she stepped behind the screen to dress. Emerging a few minutes
later, she was surprised to find him still huddled in their bed.

"Do you refuse to obey me already, husband?" she inquired curiously.
"Was my crop on your backside not enough persuasion?"

"They all know," he muttered stubbornly, his eyes trained on his
clenched hands. "They were all laughing at me."

"Know what? That I made a man of you last night, and again this morning?
That I made you moan and scream with pleasure at my touch?"

He bit down sharply on his lower lip, but gave no answer. She crossed to
the bed and lifted his chin with her fingers.

"Are you ashamed of being my husband, Fox?"

He shook his head wordlessly. He wasn't ashamed, but how could he
explain to Dana his feelings--that it seemed impossible to face the
servants, direct them in their household tasks, when all of them knew
what had happened to him last night.

"What happened between us is perfectly natural," she continued. "Of
course they know. Every person who knew we were to be married yesterday
knows that today, you belong to me completely. They all knew that last
night I would take you to my bed and teach you about becoming a man. You
surely were aware of this, Fox."

"I was so... so... shameless!" he whispered, casting his eyes down
again. It was too difficult to look her in the eyes after he'd screamed
out his abandon in her arms.

"You were beautiful," she told him firmly, "and very pleasing to me.
That should be all you think of."

"Yes, my lady." He squared his shoulders, reminded of his duty. He was
being silly. Every man who had ever married had gone through
this--losing virginity did not kill a man. Indeed, Fox could now testify
that it was not painful in the least.

"Now, climb into that tub and wash yourself, and then present yourself
to me for your punishment."

Startled, his head jerked up and two pleading hazel eyes met hers.
"Pun-punishment, my lady? But why? What have I done?"

"Disobeying and arguing," she informed him. "I intend for us to go
riding this morning, and I don't like to be kept waiting. After your
actions of yesterday, I'd think you would be more careful not to anger
me, Fox. Now, if you're not finished with your bath and leaning over
this bed in ten minutes, I'm going to add five extra strokes for every
minute you're late."

Fox was out of the bed in a flash, racing across the room in such a
hurry that his foot tangled in the sheet and he tripped. He righted
himself hurriedly and slipped into the tub, reaching for the washing
cloth and cleaning himself faster than he ever had before. He didn't
know how many strokes Dana intended to give him for his disobedience,
but he was certain that he didn't want any extras added.

Dana kept her eyes trained on the clock on the mantle, and was pleased
when Fox presented himself to her in just under the allotted ten minutes.

"Very well done," she said approvingly. "Now, bend over here," she
instructed, pushing him down over the footrail of the bed. It was a high
bed, and the footrail was the perfect height for Fox to lean over while
being punished. It put his shapely bottom well within her reach.

His nose pressed into the rumpled coverlet, Fox awaited his discipline
with a small sigh. He closed his eyes while she positioned him to her
satisfaction, and then held his breath. He hoped she wasn't using the
crop this time.

"Ouch!" he yelled when the first blow hit. She was only using her bare
hand, but in his haste he hadn't dried himself adequately, and the sting
of her palm on his still-wet buttocks was incredible.

There was no pausing between blows this time, no quizzing him about
future behavior. His mistress was merely punishing him for his
disobedience and general attitude this morning, and Fox soon lost count
as smack after smack hit his sensitive bottom.

"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Oh, please stop..." he wept, but she
continued on and on. His feet danced but he dared not rise from the
position in which she had placed him.

After several steady minutes of spanking, during which Fox swore to
himself that he would not beg her to stop, he finally broke down. "I'll
be good, please Dana, I promise I'll be good!" he wailed, clutching
desperately at the coverlet with his fists.

At last she stopped, rubbing her hands soothingly over his tortured
flesh, and he buried his face in the covers to hide his sobs.

"There, now," she murmured. "You'll learn, my sweet Fox. You'll learn to
obey me."

Giving one last light smack that took him by surprise and elicited
another yelp, she bade him dress and join her at breakfast.

Once he was alone, Fox surveyed his damaged behind in the looking glass.
The welts from last night's punishment were still faintly visible, and
his entire bottom was a frightening scarlet color from this most recent
spanking. With a shudder, he reached for his clothes and began to dress.
He certainly didn't want to give his wife reason to be displeased with
him again so soon. He had no doubt that her words were true--he would
lean to obey her quickly. He had been married less than twenty-four
hours and already he had been punished severely on two occasions. If she
was going to be this unbending as a wife, he would learn to obey or she
would end up killing him, he reflected.

He winced as his breeches aggravated his sore behind with every step he
took. And he was supposed to go riding after this? Maybe she would let
him ride face down over her horse again--at least his bottom wouldn't be
slapped against a hard saddle that way. On the other hand, she might
decide to spank him further, simply for her own amusement.

A man's lot in life, he mused in frustration--there was no way to win.

Fox ate breakfast quickly, not wanting to sit in the dining room chairs
any longer than was absolutely necessary--they had no cushions, and the
hard wood was torture on his sore bottom. As soon as his lady beckoned,
Fox bobbed up from his chair, ignoring her satisfied smile, and followed
her out the back door toward the stables.

He stopped short when they reached the back courtyard of the mansion. A
construction project was taking place, and Fox paled when he realized
just what was being built.

"Should be ready by this evening, my lady," called one of the workers
cheerfully, and Dana nodded.

"For you," she smiled, and Fox shot her a sour look, for there, next to
what he was certain was a perfectly adequate stocks, another was
currently being constructed.

"I--I--" he stammered, and she took his hand, leading him gently toward
the stables.

"Behave yourself, and you will never end up there," she promised him. "I
only use the stocks as a particularly harsh punishment, although I do
believe Mother is rather fond of them. Walter is quite well acquainted
with his own."

"Wonderful," Fox muttered under his breath, and she turned back to him
with a warning look.

"What did you say?"

"N-nothing, my lady," he replied hastily. "Are you certain we must ride?
I don't have my horse, and I haven't ridden anyone except Samantha in
years. Perhaps I could walk..."

She laughed as they disappeared into the stables.



"Why do I have to wear these?" he scowled, staring at the high heeled
boots she presented to him.

Dana sighed patiently. She'd arranged a ball to present Fox as her
husband to all their friends and neighbors, and their guests would be
arriving in less than one hour. Now Fox was being difficult.

"Because, I like you in them," she countered firmly. "They make you even
taller, and the taller a man is, the more attractive a woman finds him."

"I thought you didn't like other women looking at me," he objected,
still staring at her with crossed arms, refusing to accept the boots.

"You're wrong. I enjoy other women looking at you. I am the envy of the
village because you belong to me--I want them all to see how beautiful
my husband is, and how desirable. And how /obedient/," she stressed,
shoving the boots at him.

Swallowing hard at the look in her eye, Fox accepted the boots, sitting
reluctantly in a chair to slip them on.

"It's bad enough I have to wear pants so tight I can barely breathe," he
grumbled. "And this shirt is cut so low it leaves nothing to the
imagination. I feel like a whore."

He stopped when he felt her presence beside him, felt his breathing
suddenly become labored. He kept his eyes down, working more quickly at
donning the boots.

"You are not a whore, you are Lord Scully the Younger, and everyone in
the region knows you have had an excellent upbringing. There is nothing
about your clothing that is inappropriate, Fox. It is common for a
married man to wear clothing that is more revealing, and pleasing to his
Lady. You will dress as I command," she stated calmly. "You belong to
me, and you will obey me. If I hear one word of complaint out of your
pretty lips tonight, I'll turn you over my knee and give the guests a
show you'll never forget."

He felt his face pale at her words. "You--you wouldn't really--would
you?" he gasped, and she smiled.

"Don't tempt me. I've put up with your temper and your insolence for a
week of marriage, and as I recall, you have not yet completed an entire
day without having your pretty backside punished. I'm quite sure other
husbands don't give their wives this much trouble. I doubt very much if
Walter gives Mother such difficulty."

Fox made a 'hmph' sound behind her back as he tugged on the boots.
Walter had been punished just the day before, and Dana well knew it.
Lady Maggie, who was a doctor of some renown in the land, had come home
from visiting a patient to find her husband preparing to go riding alone.

Both Walter and Fox knew it wasn't safe for a man to be away from his
home without his wife or some other female escort, and just as at the
Mulder estate, riding out alone was forbidden, but Walter had apparently
been sneaking off on his own quite often, of late. He'd told Fox he just
enjoyed the time for quiet reflection, but after having been locked,
naked, in the stocks for the afternoon and receiving twenty lashes from
Lady Maggie's switch, Fox thought it too high a price to pay for
reflection. Fox had received ten lashes from Lady Dana for his
complicity in the matter, but had been grateful that he hadn't been
required to spend the rest of the day on display for all the servant
girls who chanced to happen by. He shuddered at the memory of what poor
Walter had been forced to endure.

The female servants always seemed to know when a man was being punished
in the stocks behind the mansion, and managed to find many reasons to
visit--some of them were even bold enough to stroke their hands over the
punished flesh of the unfortunate man, and Fox had shivered when he saw
one particularly nervy maid grope poor Walter all over before Lady
Maggie had laughingly ordered her to move along.

When Lady Maggie had finally released her husband and led him,
thoroughly chastened, into their bed chamber, Fox knew Walter's days of
"quiet reflection" were at an end.

He stood up, wobbling a bit in the boots before he regained his balance,
and waited while Dana examined him critically. He towered above her, and
she looked him up and down with a gleam in her eyes. Fox sighed,
reasonably certain his clothing wasn't going to survive the night--the
minute Dana got him to their chamber after the party, she was bound to
rip his garments right off him. She seemed to enjoy doing that. He had
gone through at least four shirts since becoming her husband, and had
only managed to save his best pair of breeches by disrobing more quickly
than she could strip him.

"You will deplete your fortune paying for my replacement clothing," he
had teased, and she'd laughed happily.

"Perhaps I won't replace it at all," she had returned, a wicked sparkle
in her eye. "Perhaps I prefer you unclothed."

His face had lost its mirth then, for he was assailed with a vision of
poor Isaac, Lady Fowley's servant who had been stripped and chained,
left to die in the rain. Dana thinking he had been embarrassed by her
playful comment, had merely changed the subject, and Fox had quickly put
Isaac out of his mind. The man was safe now.

"You look beautiful, Fox," Dana said approvingly, giving him a final
inspection. "Now remember, you know most of these people, but don't let
the strangers intimidate you. I know you are shy, but all you have to do
is smile and look nice, and you do that very well. I will take care of
the conversation."

He graced her with a curve of his pretty lips at the compliment,
accompanied by one of his attractive blushes, and she grinned. He was so
timid, her Fox. She smacked him playfully on his tightly clad behind.
"Let's go, Sweetheart."

They entered the ballroom a short time later, and Fox was relieved to
see Lord Walter already in attendance. He felt as if the older man was a
kindred spirit--they were both newly married, even if Walter had been
married before, and both were Scully husbands; the Scully women had a
reputation for fiery tempers that was more than justified.

"Hello, Fox," Walter greeted him when they approached. "Lady Dana," he
bowed politely.

"Walter, what is the matter with you?" Fox asked curiously, noting the
way the elder Lord Scully's face was flushed and he seemed to be
squirming in his breeches. He was perversely happy to see the other man
wearing boots as uncomfortable as his own.

Walter's face flushed even more, and Lady Maggie laughed. "My
disobedient little husband had a taste of my hairbrush before he dressed
for the party, Fox," she informed the group, and Fox winced as he heard
a servant giggle as she passed by. He hated the way everyone in the
house was privy every time he or Walter received a punishment.

Walter gasped as Maggie rubbed his backside, the wool pants rough on his
already sore skin. He had made the mistake of arguing with her over the
boots, pitching them across the room and flatly refusing to wear them.

"I'm tall enough," he had declared, and seconds later found himself face
down on the bed, his breeches being yanked down to encircle his knees.

"All husbands are the same height when lying on a bed about to be
punished," Lady Maggie had declared, swiftly grabbing up her wooden
hairbrush. "And you, my dear, seem to be particularly slow to learn that
I will not be crossed!"

"Ow!" he yelled, instinctively grabbing for the brass rails of their
bed. "Maggie, please! I didn't mean it!"

"You will address me as 'my lady' when you are being punished," she
informed him.

"Yes, my lady!" He clutched the brass tightly, refusing to allow his
hands to drift down to cover his bottom. He had made that error several
times when they had first been married, and soon found that it only
gained him a more severe spanking, accompanied by an evening spent with
his hands tied to the bed.

After several more hard smacks, observing the bright red color that his
bottom had taken on, Maggie stopped.

Walter breathed a sigh of relief, happy that she had not kept on until
he was crying--he didn't want to greet their party guests with a
tell-tale red face and damp eyes. It would simply be too humiliating.

"Now, finish getting dressed," Maggie had ordered, and Walter had meekly
obeyed.

"Please, Maggie," he whispered now, wincing as her hand tortured his
sore backside, and she smiled indulgently.

"Dana, our guests are beginning to arrive. Fox, Walter... all you two
have to do is stand around and look pretty." Maggie started for the
front entrance, fully expecting her family to follow, and they did, her
daughter striding along with confident steps and the two men bringing up
the rear more carefully.

"I see you had to wear the boots, too," Fox whispered, and Walter nodded
miserably.

"I hate them. "I'm always afraid I'm going to fall and break my neck,
but Maggie insisted."

Fox smirked. "Is that why she warmed your backside?" he grinned, and
Walter answered him with a scowl.

Suddenly, Fox froze in his tracks, his face a mask of sheer terror.
Walter followed his gaze and was shocked and annoyed to see Lady Diana
Fowley entering the great hall. He hadn't realized that Lady had been
invited to the party.

Fox felt a comforting squeeze on his hand and looked down to see his
wife giving him a reassuring nod.

"Why did you invite her?" he hissed into her ear, and gulped when he saw
Dana's face darken momentarily.

"I had to, in order to be polite," she informed him. "You have nothing
to fear from her as long as you stay by my side. I'll protect you. You
will not question my judgement, Fox."

"Yes, my lady," he murmured, chastened, and privately resolved to stick
by Dana's side like glue all night long. He didn't want Lady Diana to
have any chance to get near him--she'd proven herself completely
unscrupulous in the past, and now that Fox was no longer a virgin, he
wouldn't put it past her to go as far as rape, if she got the chance.

"Ah, here's the newest Lord Scully." Diana's voice was low and sultry as
she moved down the receiving line, and Fox kept his face carefully
neutral when she reached up to touch his cheek and then trailed her
fingers down the open neck of his shirt. His face flamed when he
realized the shirt was cut almost to his navel--he felt practically
naked, and his skin crawled under Diana's touch.

"Congratulations, Dana dear," Diana purred. "He /is/ lovely. You did
quite well for yourself."

"Thank you, Diana," Lady Dana replied dryly. "Perhaps you should take a
husband of your own. Then perhaps you would find yourself less inclined
to touch another Lady's property."

Diana ignored Dana's jibe. She looked Fox up and down deliberately,
smiling when his flush deepened. "How fortunate for you to have captured
such a beautiful, passionate creature. I do envy you, Dana."

At last she moved on, and Fox wilted visibly. Dana took his trembling
hand in hers and made him look her in the eyes.

"She won't touch you again, I promise. I shouldn't have let her take
such liberties with you, but I didn't want to cause a scene, and after
all, she didn't hurt you."

"I feel like the loosest of men, trussed up in these clothes and paraded
in front of everyone like this," he whispered, near tears. "Can't you
tell everyone I don't feel well, or something? I hate social occasions
anyway, and now I feel filthy! Please, Dana, can't I just--"

Dana gave him a warning glance and turned to greet the next of their
guests, but Fox was not mollified. He stood silently beside her while
the rest of the guests arrived, speaking only when directly addressed,
and then answering in short, surly responses. He could feel the anger
coming off his wife in waves, but was too far gone in his own discomfort
to care. After all, she'd only been joking about spanking him in front
of everyone, hadn't she?

When the last of the guests had appeared to arrive, and the big front
doors were swung closed, Dana turned to Fox with blood in her eye.

"Come with me," she commanded coldly, and turned to stalk toward the
library.

He stared after her for a few seconds, frozen in place, until Lady
Maggie gave him a gentle shove.

"You'd better do as she says, Fox," she warned him. "My daughter is not
to be trifled with. I'm surprised you haven't learned that yet."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered, quickly making his way toward the door through
which his wife had disappeared.

He entered the library, his heart in his throat, and looked around
warily for his wife, then jumped when the heavy door slammed shut behind
him. He turned just in time to see her twisting the key in the lock, and
swallowed hard. She appeared prepared to kill.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he began contritely, but she interrupted him.

"Save your abject apologies, Fox. I am not interested in your excuses
for treating our guests so rudely. Get over here." Dana sat down on a
massive sofa and patted her knees. "I warned you this was going to
happen if you didn't mend your attitude."

"But Dana... we have guests out there..." he whispered, gesturing toward
the door in horror.

"Exactly," she agreed. "And if you don't want them to get an eyeful
while you get your bottom blistered, you'd better get over here. Now!"

He scurried to her side at the rough command, and closed his eyes
helplessly while she unfastened his breeches and lowered them. She
pulled him down over her knees and he braced himself against the floor.

Dana rubbed her hand appreciatively over his smooth buttocks, then
raised it above her head and brought it down sharply right in the middle.

Fox bit his lip to keep from crying out, mindful of the party going on
in the next room. He kicked and squirmed over the lap beneath him, but
knew better than to try and escape his punishment--that would only lead
to something worse, and he had no desire to further enrage his wife.

Finally, when silent tears were rolling down his face and he sagged
bonelessly against her, Dana took pity on Fox and relented. She pulled
him against her for a comforting hug and kiss, and then helped him to
stand.

"Adjust your clothing and meet me in the great hall," she instructed,
dropping another kiss on his deliciously bared chest. "And don't keep me
waiting, Fox," she warned.

"No, ma'am," he promised instantly. "I'll be right there." He swiped at
the tear marks on his face for a minute, and finally gave up. Everyone
would know what had just happened to him anyway, there was no point in
trying to hide it.

Fox gasped in pain when the wool breeches scraped across his reddened
behind, and he surveyed his erect sex with a humiliated glare. Everyone
would be able to see that, too, with the tight pants he was wearing.
Nothing at all would be left to the imagination, he realized shamefully.

Finally, stifling a heavy sigh, he started for the door. With every step
the wool of his breeches rubbed his bottom uncomfortably, and he knew he
was going to be reminded of this spanking for the rest of the night.

He was just about to emerge into the party when the door was thrown open
unexpectedly. To his horror, he saw Lady Diana Fowley standing in the
doorway, eyeing him hungrily.

"Well what have we here?" she said with a wicked grin. "A Fox in a cage,
with no one around to protect him."

Fox swallowed hard and took a step backward. Diana shut the door behind
her and locked it, slipping the key into her pocket.

"Lady Fowley, I need to get back to the party," he said, trying hard to
keep his voice from quavering. He feared Diana, and had always known she
was an unscrupulous sort. "My lady is waiting for me."

"Not just yet," she smirked, taking a threatening step toward him. "You
and I have a little business to finish first. You see, when my servants
captured you last week, they were supposed to bring you straight to me.
I know you, Fox, I knew you would try to run, and I knew you'd go to
your cousin Jake's estate--knew you'd run right into my arms, so to
speak. If my servants had obeyed me, you'd be my husband now, not
Dana's. They've been suitably punished, and now I intend to have my turn
with you; your pretty flesh will be mine before I'm done. All of it."

"Lady Fowley, please," Fox began, backing up as far as he could and
feeling pure fear invade him when his back hit the wall. There was
nowhere else to go, and Lady Diana was advancing quickly.

Diana gave another evil smile, and pulled a small whip from her pocket,
uncoiling it as she approached him.



In the great hall, Walter watched curiously as Lady Diana entered the
library from which Dana had recently emerged. Fox was still inside.

"My lady--" he began, turning to Maggie, but stopped when he realized
she was deeply in conversation with Dana and another doctor from the
next village over. The three women were discussing the merits of
performing certain types of surgery, and Walter didn't like to interrupt.

"Lady Maggie," he whispered, touching her arm to gain her attention, but
she merely gave him a sidelong look and he clamped his mouth shut.
Maggie didn't like to be disturbed while conversing with other women,
certainly not with the affairs of a simple male.

Desperately, he glanced toward the library door again. It had not
opened. He crossed the few steps toward the door and quietly turned the
knob, confirming his fears--Lady Diana had locked herself inside with
poor Fox. He stood in agonized indecision for a few moments, then made a
hasty choice. He couldn't disturb Lady Maggie, but he simply could not
bring himself to leave Fox at Lady Fowley's mercy--the woman would tear
that poor, innocent boy to pieces.

He crept up beside his wife, trying once more and failing to gain her
attention. At least, not knowing what else to do, Walter unobtrusively
slipped his hand into the pocket of Lady Maggie's suit, feeling relief
when his fingers closed over the skeleton key he knew she carried. This
key would open any door on the estate, and it never left Maggie's
possession. Just as carefully, he removed his hand, bringing the key
with it, and started back toward the library, unnoticed by the ladies.



"You're very insolent, Fox," Lady Fowley commented, flicking the whip
through the air and watching with satisfaction as he cringed. "Insolent
boys deserve to be punished. If you were my husband, I'd keep you naked
and chained to my bed."

Fox winced again at the memory of Isaac, and wondered briefly if that
poor man had been forced to share Lady Diana's bed before he had fallen
out of favor.

"A man's only function is to provide his wife pleasure, and to give her
daughters," Diana continued. "Lady Dana gives you far too much liberty."

"I--I--" Fox was so terrified, and so focused on the whip, that he
didn't see Walter sneaking up behind Diana, a heavy vase clutched in his
hands, until Walter brought the vase down with all his force on Diana's
head.

Lady Fowley crumpled to the ground, an expression of surprise still on
her face, and Walter grabbed his almost incoherent son-in-law.

"Let's go before they find us!" he hissed, jerking Fox away from the
wall and dragging him toward the door.

"But--what--how did you get in here?" Fox demanded, stepping over Diana
carefully, half afraid she would wake up and grab him. "The door was
locked!"

"Lady Maggie has a skeleton key," Walter explained quickly. "I slipped
it from her pocket when she was preoccupied. If we're lucky, I can
return it before she notices."

Their hopes of a speedy escape were dashed when the door, which had been
partially closed after Walter entered, swung suddenly open. The party
noises had gone completely silent, and every guest in the house had his
or her eyes squarely on the two Lord Scullys. Walter and Fox had eyes
only for their mistresses, who stood before them wearing identical
expressions of fury.

"Looks like your luck has run out, boys," commented Maggie Scully,
lightly slapping at her thigh with a riding crop.

Fox noted with distress that Dana held the same crop she'd whipped him
with on their wedding night.

"Please--we can explain," Walter began, but stopped when his wife gave
him a withering look.

"I've had just about enough of your explanations, Walter," she informed
him coldly. "I think an evening in the stocks might be just what the two
of you need."

End chapter 3



"My lady, no, please not the stocks again!" gasped Lord Walter,
struggling as he was led away by two of the Scully family's largest
servants.

"Walter, you struck a guest!" Maggie scolded as her daughter bent over
Lady Fowley. "Such behavior can hardly go unpunished!"

"But--"

"Not another word," Maggie said firmly. "Away with you both. Dana and I
will tend to you after we've seen to our guests."

Fox submitted numbly as his arm was taken by one of the largest of the
female servants and he was escorted to the back courtyard along with
Walter. He shuddered as they approached the stocks, the new wood of the
restraint Dana had had built especially for him gleaming in the
starlight. Walter's more familiar, more used stocks were
weather-roughened and worn, but still secure, and Fox watched as the
servant escorting Walter placed his head and arms in the proper spaces,
Walter offering no resistance. He shuddered as the heavy piece of wood
came down, trapping Walter in the device, and the sound of the lock
clicking shut almost made him faint in terror. Briefly, he debated
shaking off the arm that held him and making a run for his freedom, but
common sense told him what a foolish endeavor that would be. He couldn't
escape, he would only be dragged back here, and then his punishment
would be compounded. Very likely he would be whipped for his defiance,
and the thought of being brutally punished in front of Lady Fowley was
enough to make him swallow his fear and stand his ground.

The stocks stood side by side, and once Walter had been securely locked
in the other device, the servant moved to the new one and lifted the
top. The iron hinges squealed as the were forced to work for the first
time since their installation, and Fox winced at the sound.

How long would the Ladies make them stand here, helpless and at the
mercy of any who might come to take their merriment, before releasing
them, and what type of punishment awaited at the end of this evening,
which suddenly stretched out endless before him. And why, Fox thought
rebelliously, were he and Walter being punished at all? They had done
nothing wrong. Walter had merely attempted to assist Fox when he had
been cornered by someone bent upon doing him harm. It wasn't fair that
they should suffer while the Lady in question went her merry way, but it
was the way of an unfair world that she should do so.

Once the heavy board had come down over his neck and wrists, Fox
experimentally tried to tug his hand through the opening and found that
it wouldn't budge. It was clear to him that an evil woman had designed
these stocks, she had done her job admirably well.

The servants disappeared back inside the mansion, and the two hapless
men were left alone.

"Great," Walter grumbled. "Thanks a lot, Fox. I spent hours here
yesterday, and now it looks as if I'll be sleeping on my feet."

"At least you're not naked this time, Walter," Fox pointed out, but
Walter didn't seem comforted by this thought.

"Not yet," he returned. "But wait until the servants have a break in
their duties."

At Fox's shudder, Walter pressed on. "You've never been in this position
before, have you?"

Fox shook his head. "We didn't have these torture devices at the Mulder
estate," he said proudly.

Walter ignored the boy's youthful ignorance. "Well we had them at the
Skinner estate, and Lady Sharon was quite fond of using them if she felt
the occasion warranted. She was never one to punish me in anger, and so
she would often lock me in the stocks for hours on end whilst she
debated the most appropriate way to make me pay for my sins."

"Has--has Lady Maggie done this to you often?"

"On occasion," Walter said quietly, "although Lady Maggie is more apt to
simply beat me and get the punishment over."

Fox squirmed again, uselessly striving for his freedom, and Walter smiled.

"You'll only hurt yourself, my boy," he advised. "Best not to struggle
against it--the wood is strong and the locks are secure."

"It isn't fair!" Fox burst out. "Why are they doing this to us? Lady
Dana didn't even take the time to hear our reasons--she doesn't even
know what Lady Fowley was planning--"

"They had no choice, lad," Walter interrupted before Fox could get
himself worked into a real anger. "We injured a Lady of the nobility,
and we did it in front of all the guests. If we had not been immediately
dealt with, the word would have spread throughout the land by morning
that the Scully women have no control of their men. They would be ruined
socially, and their patients would lose confidence in their ability to
heal."

"You injured a Lady of the nobility," Fox reminded him.

"And saved your pretty hide!"

"Perhaps," Fox admitted grudgingly, "but I still feel this is
unwarranted. I saw how the servants treated you yesterday while you were
trapped here." He stopped, suddenly realizing that there was nobody
around to protect them, should any servant or guest make her way to the
back courtyard and attempt to take her pleasure with them.

Walter saw his consternation and sighed. "I know how you feel, Fox," he
said gently. "But the servants know how far is /too/ far, and they won't
cross that line. You won't care for what they do to you, because you are
still young and quite innocent, despite your recent marriage, but your
virtue will remain intact, I promise you that."

"How far /is/ too far?" he demanded desperately.

"You will not spill your seed," Walter told him quietly. "All else is
permitted."

Fox bit back a groan, knowing how torturous it could be when Dana teased
his manhood and refused to allow him his release. Would it be like that
all evening, then? Parties such as the one going on inside could last
for hours, as he well knew, and it had only begun.

"I'd rather just be whipped," he muttered at the ground. "Wouldn't you?"

"Lady Maggie isn't going to whip me for this," Walter responded serenely.

"How do you know?"

"Because," the older man told him with a sidelong look, "Lady Maggie
never lets circumstances delay her in delivering a punishment. Had she
intended to whip me, it would be occurring even as we speak."

"But maybe later she'll--"

"I have no doubt that she'll allow the guests to believe that. They will
feel that a harsh punishment is warranted, and Lady Maggie will send
them all away tonight with the assurance that it shall be meted out
immediately upon their departure. Then she will release me and take me
to her bed. I might suffer some mild form of punishment, for I did steal
the key from her pocket, but it will not be severe. Lady Maggie never
punishes me without hearing my side of a story first. Does your Lady
Dana?" he asked curiously.

"I--I don't know," Fox told him. "There hasn't been an occasion for her
to hear my side of a story yet--she's always been present and seen my
disobedience for herself."

Walter chuckled. "I believe Maggie has raised the girl well--do not be
afraid, Fox. I doubt she will be overly harsh with you."

They fell silent, and inside, the guests continued to party and dance,
the two misbehaving husbands soon forgotten in the merriment. The
servants in the kitchen had imbibed their share of wine, and as Walter
had warned, and the night grew late, several of them wandered outside in
search of cooler air. The two Lord Scullys were captive to their amusement.

"Ooh, lookee here, Sarah," cooed one of the scullery maids, her breath
reeking of wine as she leaned close to Walter. "Here's two naughty men
caught in the act." Walter winced and turned his head away, but she
grabbed his face and planted a wet kiss upon his lips.

"And fine looking men they are, too," answered the one called Sarah,
sidling up behind Fox and caressing his bottom with her hands.

He gasped as the wool of his trousers rubbed against his still sore
buttocks, and tried to twist away from her, but there was nowhere he
could go.

"Leave us alone," Walter commanded in his best Lord-of-the-Manor voice,
once the maid had released his lips, but the women only laughed.

"Now why would My Lady leave you here, if she didn't intend us to take
our fun with you?" the first woman asked saucily She ducked beneath the
stocks and sidled around behind Walter, slipping her hands around his
waist to grope at his sex. He tried to elude her, but like Fox, was
trapped and at her mercy.

Fox, meanwhile, had attracted the attention of several more of the
servants who had made their way outside. Ignoring his protests, Sarah
unfastened his pants and peeled them down his legs. Soon Fox found
himself the subject of much unwanted attention.

"Stop that!" he moaned as one of the women caressed his bare manhood,
bringing it to reluctant arousal. "Let me go!"

"Now my lord Fox, we'll not hurt ye," Sarah assured him. "It's part of
the punishment of being in the stocks, to have the servants play with
your body. And such a pretty body it is, too," she giggled, sliding her
hands beneath his shirt to caress his nipples.

Fox was nearly incoherent with embarrassment. He had been fondled by
servants during his lifetime, naturally--all men endured that, whether
servants or of the nobility--but to be held helpless while three of them
took their pleasure in caressing his most intimate parts...it was too
much to bear.

"Get away from me!" he screeched, kicking out in a desperate attempt to
dislodge the female who was kissing her way up his bare inner thigh.
"Lady Dana will be furious!"

Another of the servants, one Fox knew as Melinda, gave a musical laugh
before engulfing his sex in her mouth. Involuntarily, he arched toward
her, feeling the tears begin to course down his cheeks. Melinda had him
in her mouth, Sarah was fondling his buttocks, and the servant who had
been kissing his legs now was busily unfastening his shirt. 'At least
you're not naked,' he had told Walter, but he was wrong. He glanced over
to see that Walter was in as humiliating a predicament as himself, his
breeches completely removed and his shirt open to reveal his entire
chest. Walter had been caressed to a state of arousal as well, and one
of the women leaned against his back, pressing herself into his buttocks
while she stroked his sex slowly, up and down, her fingers circling the
tip with each movement.

Walter seemed resigned to their fate, but poor Fox, having been so
recently relieved of his virginity, was near catatonic with the
humiliation of it all, when to his relief, his wife's voice rang out
across the yard.

"Away from him, you wenches. Can't you see my poor Lord is horribly
embarrassed? Leave him be. He isn't to be subject to your randy
attentions tonight."

There was no anger in Dana's voice, only amusement, a fact which was not
lost on Fox. She came to stand before her errant husband, a stern
expression on her face. Fox stood before her helplessly, his head and
arms locked in the stocks and his breeches down around his ankles, his
face a mask of humiliated rage. Dana suspected he had never been in such
a position in his entire life.

Anger warred with embarrassment within him, and at last, in spite of
Walter's whispered asides to him to shut up, anger won out.

"Let me out of here!" he demanded of his wife, who merely cocked her
head to one side and allowed him to speak his piece. "What kind of wife
are you, to have her husband on display before the servants? Have you no
respect for me at all? They were /touching/ me, Dana! You promised me
nobody but you would touch me tonight, and now here I am, locked in
these damn stocks for the amusement of every serving wench in your employ!"

"Stop right there," she commanded softly, and Fox did, suddenly
realizing he'd been yelling at his lady in front of all the servants and
more than a few party guests who had come to see what all the commotion
was about.

"First of all," she reminded him coldly, "you are my husband, and I can
do as I please with you. If I choose to strip you naked and parade you
through the streets of the village, I will do so, and there is none who
will naysay me."

Fox closed his eyes in agony and shuddered at the image of himself being
walked through the streets of the village where he had lived his entire
life, naked and humiliated, hearing the taunts and jeers of the many
women who would be watching.

"Secondly," Dana continued, "you are correct. I did promise you nobody
would touch you, but that was before you were instrumental in giving one
of our guests a concussion! Poor Lady Fowley is still stunned."

"My Lady," Walter interrupted quickly, "I can explain--"

"Save your explanations for my mother, Walter. I do believe she has a
horse whip with your name on it."

Walter blanched, but said nothing more. Lady Maggie had never been so
cruel as to whip him with anything more harsh than a switch, and despite
his assurances to Fox that Maggie believed in prompt punishment, he was
uncertain.. She must be very, very angry with him. He only prayed she
would allow him to tell her what had happened before she whipped the
skin off his back.

"So--what have you to say for yourself?" Dana asked, stepping closer to
Fox and awaiting his answer.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, sniffing back a few tears.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he told her contritely. "I didn't strike Lady Fowley,
but Walter was only trying to help me. It was my fault."

"How was it your fault?" asked Lady Maggie, who had approached silently
while Dana was speaking. "What did you do to entice Lady Fowley, Fox?"

"I--I--entice, my lady?" Fox was clearly confused, and Dana could see
that he had no idea of what her mother was speaking.

"I doubt Fox enticed her intentionally, Mother," she cut in. "He's so
beautiful, women are just naturally attracted to him. It's no wonder
Lady Fowley lost control of herself. A woman can't be expected to keep
her lust in reign with a man as beautiful as Fox in the vicinity."

Fox ground his teeth together, but said nothing. As if it was his fault
that women considered him beautiful! Given the choice, he'd plant a huge
wart right on the tip of his nose just to avoid any further, unwanted
attentions. Besides, he wasn't beautiful anyway. Women were blind, that
was all.

"I must agree with you, my dear," Maggie replied. "Perhaps in the
future, you should be more careful with the clothing you allow Fox to
wear. It might save him a good deal of grief. And now you," she
continued, turning to her own husband. "I would hear your story now."

Earnestly, Walter explained that he'd seen Lady Fowley enter the library
after Dana had left Fox alone there, had suspected the woman's motives
were less than honorable, and had slipped the skeleton key out of his
wife's pocket while she was distracted, discussing business with another
doctor friend.

"Did it never occur to you to simply call the situation to my attention,
or to Dana's?" Maggie scolded. "We are both perfectly capable of taking
care of our men."

"I tried, but you were too busy to listen!"

"You will address me in a tone of respect!" she thundered, and her
husband moderated his speech immediately.

"I am sorry, my lady," Walter answered, head hung low. "I know you will
take care of us. I simply didn't think--I knew Lady Fowley had her eye
on Fox, and that she would take liberties with him if he was left
unprotected, and you and Lady Dana were so busy with your important
conversations--I thought it best not to trouble you for such a trivial
matter."

"I see. Well, boys, I think for now, the two of you will stay right
here. You're not likely to get into any more trouble that way.
Sarah--replace his clothing, and all of you ladies leave the men alone.
Walter, Fox--Dana and I will be back to tell you what we have decided
after the last of our guests have departed."

Maggie strode toward the house, and Walter heaved a huge sigh of relief.
Apparently he'd been correct in his first assumption--she wasn't going
to whip him after all, for if that had been her intention, he had no
doubt that he would be in the midst of his punishment right now.

Dana waited until the party guests had followed her mother back inside,
then stepped closer to Fox, stroking his hair.

"Are you all right, sweetling?" she asked, planting a soft kiss on his
lips.

He sniffed again, and she wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Dana, I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble," he
quavered.

"I know you didn't, Fox. You're still so innocent, you simply didn't
realize what might happen. I'll have to teach you all about the ways of
women, so that you can avoid situations like this one in the future."

"Yes ma'am," he whispered dejectedly.

"I'll be back later. Be good, boys," she called as she disappeared into
the house.

"Now what?" Fox asked when they were alone.

"Well, I don't know what Lady Dana has in store for you, but I do
believe I'm in for some pleasure tonight."

Fox turned his head to stare at Walter in amazement. "Pleasure?" he
asked in a disbelieving voice. "Lady Maggie punishes you with pleasure?"

Walter smiled mysteriously. "Sometimes she does, my boy. Sometimes she
does, but tonight will simply be pleasure--no punishment."

Walter didn't seem inclined to explain further, so Fox let the matter
drop. After a while, though, he grew bored, and decided to ask Walter a
question that had been bothering him.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?" asked Walter, almost asleep on his feet.

"Did it ever really hurt you?"

Walter was jolted awake by the oddness of the question. "Did what ever
hurt?" he evaded.

Fox blushed in the darkness. "You know..." he said at last.

Walter gave a small laugh. "No, it never hurt. That's a lie, I think,
that fathers tell their sons."

"I won't tell mine that," Fox said positively, and Walter smiled. Fox
would do anything he had to do in order to keep his sons pure until
their marriages. All men did.

"It wasn't always as pleasant as it is with Lady Maggie, though," Walter
continued. "She's a very experienced lover, and she knows exactly how to
please a man."

"But...I though men were supposed to please women!" Fox objected.

"Oh, we are, Fox. It's our primary function, in addition to giving a
woman a daughter to whom she may pass on her name and lands. But a man
can gain pleasure as well. Haven't you felt pleasure when Lady Dana has
taken you?"

Fox was simply too embarrassed to respond, but Walter understood.

"I see you have," he smirked.

"But you said Lady Maggie would punish you with pleasure--I don't
understand..."

"In that case, I'll ask Maggie to have a talk with Lady Dana. It's
certainly something every man should experience."

"No, don't!" Fox pleaded, panicked, but Walter had a gleam in his eye
that told Fox he would be learning all about punishment by pleasure, and
much sooner than he wished.



At last, when the moon was dipping low in the sky and daylight surely
could not be many hours away, the Ladies returned to the rear courtyard
to confront the men.

Walter had fallen asleep, slumped against the large bracing pole that
was the stocks' main support, but Fox had been too nervous to allow
himself that escape. He had been terrified that the servants would
return, unbeknownst to his lady, and every time a screech of laughter
had emanated from the kitchen he had shuddered. The servants were
growing more intoxicated, as were the guests.

Finally, though, Fox had been able to discern the welcome sound of
carriages departing and guests taking their leave, and after an eternity
of this, the rear door opened and two shapes approached.

"My--my lady?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Fox, it is I," she answered, patting his face soothingly. "Have
you been molested again?"

"No ma'am," he whispered, watching as she released the lock that held
him trapped.

"Good," she told him with satisfaction, and helped him straighten up,
mindful of the ache in his back and legs, for he had been standing here
for hours.

"Wake up, Walter," Maggie murmured, and her husband opened sleepy eyes
to find that he was freed at last.

"Maggie?"

"Come with me, dear," she said gently, placing his arm around her
shoulders and helping him gain his balance. "Let's get you both to bed."

Fox followed Dana to their chamber, moving slowly, mindful of his sore
muscles, and when they arrived he sank gratefully to the bed.

"We need to get you undressed," Dana said, tugging at the hated boots,
and Fox closed his eyes wearily.

"Can't I just sleep in my clothes?" he begged, reveling in the softness
of the coverlet.

"I want you naked, my dear," she told him wickedly, and he groaned.

"Do you not desire me?" she asked, sliding his breeches down his legs
and discarding them carelessly. "Has my husband grown tired of my
lovemaking already?"

"Not tired of...that," he whispered, still too shy to say the word.
"Just tired."

"Poor sweet--it has been a long night for you. I have a special treat
for you, though, if you can awaken long enough to enjoy it."

Fox opened one eye, his innate curiosity refusing to allow him to slip
into the slumber for which his body longed.

"A treat, my lady?" He watched as she removed his shirt, then stood at
the foot of the bed and stripped off her own clothing. He had to admit,
no matter how shy he might be about seeing her unclothed, that his wife
was lovely. He felt a stirring between his legs and sighed. He wondered
briefly if he could plead a headache and be allowed to go to sleep, but
if his lady wished him to pleasure her tonight, it was no more than his
duty. Besides...her talk of a treat for him was intriguing.

"Yes, Fox," Dana told him, climbing into bed beside him and dousing the
lantern. "Tonight I will show you a new way in which we can both gain
much pleasure."

His sex twitched in response to her words, and he knew that going to
sleep now was out of the question. He must needs learn more of this new
method of pleasure of which she spoke.

"What do you wish, my lady?"

Dana turned on her side and gently stroked his face, admiring the way
the moonlight through the window fell on his skin, turning it a deep
honey color, his eyes dark pools in the depths of their shadow.

"I wish to lie on my back tonight."

Fox was confused. "To lie on your back--to sleep?"

She shook her head.

"You mean...while we...?"

"Yes."

He hesitated for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was aghast. "Do
you mean that you wish for me to be.../atop/ you, my lady?"

"Yes."

"But..but...my weight may be too much for you," he sputtered, anxiously
casting around his mind for an excuse, for surely what she was
suggesting was highly improper.

Dana laughed. "Fox, I am a woman, and you are only a man. You will not
hurt me, I promise you. Now come, do as I say."

She tugged at his arm, pulling him into the position she desired, and he
could feel his face turning red even in the darkness.

"This doesn't seem...it isn't quite...natural," he stammered, and she
laughed again as she positioned his manhood above her woman's sex.

"It's quite natural, I assure you," she whispered fiercely as she
grasped his buttocks and thrust him quickly inside her.

"Oh...oh my," he breathed, moving back and forth at her urging, quickly
learning the rhythm she wished and doing his best to please her.

He felt such a feeling of...of /power/ in this position, he realized,
marveling at how small her body was beneath his.

"Do you like that, my lady?" he asked in a teasing voice, stopping his
movement without warning. "Shall I continue?"

"Continue, or I will punish you in ways which you cannot imagine," she
hissed, but he pinned her body to the bed with his larger one and
laughed softly.

"Fox, I am warning you," she said through clenched teeth. "You have no
idea at what you are playing."

"I know that I am in control of you, my lady," he laughed, nibbling at
her ear, lapping at her with his tongue. "For the first time ever. I do
appreciate this treat you gave me."

He moved his hips slowly, tormenting her with the movements, forcing her
to reach her fulfillment slowly until at last she threw back her head
and emitted that animal sound that he had come to love. She tightened
her legs around his hips, pulling him tightly into her, and soon he
followed her into ecstasy, screaming out his man's release before
collapsing, panting, on top of her.

"Did you enjoy that, my sweet?" she asked, kissing the top of his head.

"Oh yes, my lady," he gasped when he'd recovered sufficiently. "It was
simply marvelous. Thank you."

"Don't thank me too soon," she said mysteriously, and turned on her
side, pulling him into her arms to her preferred sleeping position.

"What do you mean?" he asked, raising his head to look at her with wide
eyes. "You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Oh no, Fox, not angry," she answered softly, but her lips curved in a
smile as he settled back against her chest.

'Just you wait until morning, my shy Fox,' she thought wickedly. 'You
will learn never to trifle with me.'



Fox awakened in the morning and stretched--at least he tried to stretch.
He quickly discovered that his arms and legs were bound tightly to the
bedposts, as they'd been the morning after their wedding.

"Dana?" he asked, raising his head the few inches that were allowed. She
was just rising from the bath, and he flushed when he realized that he
must have been in this very position when the servants brought the bath
water.

"Don't worry, darling," she said, amused, reading his thoughts. "I
covered you."

She approached him, carrying the soap and a wet washing cloth, a drying
towel slung over her shoulder.

"What--what are you doing?" he demanded, tugging furiously at the knots
that held him captive.

"Why, I'm washing you," she said innocently, soaping the cloth and
scrubbing at his face and neck. "I want you to be clean for your
punishment."

"My punishment? What have I--oh," he finished softly.

She looked directly into his beautiful eyes, green in the morning sunlight.

"You will never, /never/ attempt to control me again, Fox, is that
understood?"

"Uh...yes, ma'am," he said, watching her hands as they crept lower and
lower with the cloth. She washed every part of his body except his sex,
and by the time she finally stroked over it with the now cooling cloth,
he was writhing. He gasped when the cold cloth touched his hardening
manhood and she laughed.

"Oh, Fox, it's just beginning," she said, and he swallowed hard at the
gleam in her eyes.

"What are you going to do to me?" he managed as she quickly rubbed him dry.

"A trick my mother taught me," she replied. She rose from the bed and
deposited the towel and washing cloth beside the tub, then pulled on her
robe. Reaching up, she pulled the bell to summon the servants, and then
pulled the coverlet over his naked form.

"It's called 'punishment by pleasure,' she whispered in an evil tone,
leaning close to his ear, and was rewarded with a shiver from her
still-so-innocent husband.

The servants arrived almost immediately, removing all traces of their
bath, and Fox felt a chill invade him when she ordered them not to
disturb her before lunchtime. She twisted the key in the lock and turned
back to him, a predatory smile upon her face.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he bargained desperately, but he was much too late to
save himself. As she approached the bed again, she slowly, so slowly it
was killing him, slipped the robe down her lovely shoulders, revealing
her breasts inch by luscious inch, until at last she allowed the maroon
silk to puddle to the floor, leaving her completely naked before him.

His manhood, which had lost a bit of its enthusiasm while the servants
were in attendance, rose to attention again, and he tugged at the
scarves with which she'd tied him. Warily, Fox watched as Dana
approached her dressing table and opened a drawer. She withdrew a long
piece of narrow blue ribbon, and he wondered, as she climbed up beside
him on the big bed, what she could possibly plan to do with that scrap.
He soon found out, to his chagrin, just exactly what her plan involved.

Dana slipped the ribbon beneath his waist, drawing it up on either side
of his belly. She tied it around his waist, leaving one long end and one
short, then she took the long end and wound it firmly around the base of
his rod. He stared down at her hands in disbelief as she wound the
ribbon around his sac, around his manhood twice more, then drew the long
end up and tied it to the ribbon at his waist.

He shifted and felt the tugging in his most private of parts. It didn't
hurt--in fact, it wasn't really even uncomfortable--but he was quite
certain it would inhibit the spilling of his seed, and as she stretched
out beside him on the bed, so close he could feel her warmth and smell
her scent but not touching him, not even a whisper of skin-on-skin--he
realized that was her intention.

"First," she began in a low voice that went straight to his bound sex,
"I'm going to kiss you all over. I'm going to start with your forehead,
placing tiny, feather kisses upon your eyes, your cheeks, your nose.
I'll probe your ear with my tongue until you are nearly screaming with
the sensation. I'll nip at your earlobes, one after another, back and
forth, until they are reddened with my marks."

She turned on her side and began trailing her fingers softly up and down
her chest between her breasts, not touching them, but making him ache to
do so.

"I'll trace my tongue along your neck, lapping at your chin, sucking at
the dimple there, biting your lips until they are swollen with need.
I'll claim your mouth slowly, plunging my tongue in as far as it will
go, possessing every inch of your lips, your tongue--you'll try to wrest
control from me, but you will fail."

He gasped, realizing he had forgotten to breathe.

"After that, I'll lap at the hollow at the base of your neck. Perhaps
I'll pour some wine there and lick it off until my thirst for you is
slaked. My fingers will trace softly down your chest, flicking over your
nipples until they are hardened and craving my attention. I'll suck at
each of them in turn until you are crying out your need for me.

"Your soft belly will be next. My tongue will slide across it, making
you squirm, making you wriggle, but you cannot escape me. You'll be
breathing heavily by then, think that I'm coming nearer your sex, that
you'll gain relief soon.

"You'll be wrong."

He groaned aloud.

"I'll tease my tongue into your navel, in and out, in and out, mimicking
the movements of your sex in mine, until you are finally begging me to
take you. You /will/ beg me, Fox," she informed him, and he had no doubt
that she was correct.

"Your entire attention will be focused on your sex as I move my mouth
lower and lower, nuzzling the hair that surrounds it--and then I'll pass
it by."

He shuddered.

"I'll lick and suck and nip at the insides of your thighs until they are
trembling with desire for me. It will take me forever to make my way
down your lovely legs, and I will take my time, savoring every inch of
your lovely flesh.

"I'll suck on each of your toes in turn, and by then, you'll be bucking,
desperate for my touch on your rod."

He was desperate for that already. Her words had inflamed him, and he
felt as if the only thing keeping him from spilling his seed at those
words alone was the ribbon.

"When I'm finished with your toes, I'll lick the bottoms of your feet,
and you'll try to jerk away, but you'll be held captive. My captive, to
do with as I wish."

She still had not touched him, only her voice caressed him as she
continued describing the erotic tortures she planned to inflict upon
him. He moaned deep in his throat, his eyes tightly closed.

"I'll make my way back up your legs," she told him huskily, "slowly,
drawing out the torture, until at last you are ready to promise me
anything. When you reach that state, and only then, I'll allow you a
slight touch on your sex."

He breathed a sigh of relief, and bit back another groan at her next
sentence.

"I'll caress it with my hair, letting the long strands wisp over it,
applying no pressure, giving no satisfaction, only tormenting you further.

"At last, when you are certain you can't live another minute without my
touch--I'll gently place my fingertips on you."

He made a small noise of relief and she smiled again.

"I'll stroke you lightly, up and down, my touch almost as soft as my
hair on your skin, and when you feel you are almost at your release,
when you're certain that the punishment is over at last--I'll stop."

"No!" he bit out. "Dana, please!"

"I'll bring you to that point over and over again, as many times as I
desire, and you will have no choice but to endure. You are helplessly
bound, and there is nothing you can do but wait until I choose to give
you your fulfillment. Perhaps I shall choose not to allow you your man's
release at all."

"Please..." he begged hoarsely. "I'm sorry, please, oh please Dana
please stop please let me--"

She continued as if he had not spoken. "And you will never, never try to
take advantage of me again."

He tugged furiously at the scarves, so roughly that she knew he would
have bruises on his wrists and ankles later.

"I won't I'm sorry I'll never do it again oh please my lady please let
me please..."

"Let you what?"

"I want--I want--"

At last, showing mercy for her poor bound possession, she began at his
forehead, her lips and teeth doing exactly as she'd promised.

Once he realized that she fully intended to put him through the reality
of the torture now that she'd told him about it, he writhed even more
furiously, but it was all for naught. Dana gave him every second of
punishment that she could, drawing out his torment for as long as she
was able, and then, at last, when he was begging incoherently and
verbally throwing himself upon her mercy--she released his manhood and
allowed him to experience his fulfillment. But only after she'd taken
hers from him first.

It was only fair, she reasoned. After all, she was the mistress.

He was only a man.

End chapter 4



Fox fell into a sound sleep after crying out his release in Dana's arms,
and she lay atop him for a time, smiling happily. She was quite pleased
with her marriage, and teaching Fox the ways of a woman with a man was
even more fun than she'd expected. He was always shocked, and yet always
so responsive to her lovemaking. Even now, after she'd spent the last
hour torturing him, he slept with a smile curving his lips and a
contended expression upon his pretty face. She was certain Fox didn't
find marriage to be /too/ repulsive.

At last, glancing toward the clock and realizing that the servants would
be arriving with lunch at any moment, Dana rose and donned her robe. She
had just finished removing the scarves that still bound her husband to
the bed and covering his naked form when the knock at the door signaled
the arrival of their meal.

"Bring more bath water," she ordered when the lunch tray had been
deposited on a table. "And wipe that smirk off your face, Sarah. Fox is
shy enough about lovemaking still, without you ladies teasing him about
it. Last night in the stocks was terribly difficult for him."

"Yes, my lady," Sarah responded demurely, and retreated to ring for more
bath water.

By the time the smell of food woke Fox, the tub had been once again
refilled with steaming water, and Dana was just climbing from its
depths. She wrapped the drying towel around herself and smiled at him.

"Get yourself bathed and dressed, Fox," she ordered gently, "and then
we'll eat. I have a surprise for you this afternoon."

"A surprise?" he questioned, eyeing her suspiciously, and bit his lip in
consternation when she laughed at him.

"Yes, a surprise. A nice one. Now obey me, or I'll have to take my
hairbrush to that pretty backside of yours."

Fox climbed out of bed immediately, slipping into the warm bath water
and giving a sigh of bliss. He relaxed for a few minutes, allowing the
heat to soak into his sore muscles, but when Dana emerged from behind
the screen, fully dressed, he hurried through his washing.

The smell of the food when she uncovered the tray reminded Fox that he
was quite hungry, and he dressed quickly and took his place beside her.

"Allow me to serve you, my lady?" he requested, and Dana nodded her thanks.

When he reached to place her plate before her, the sleeve of his shirt
pulled back to reveal the bruised flesh of his wrists. Dana captured his
hand in hers and lifted the injured wrist to her mouth, planting soft
kisses there.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you, my sweet," she said, with just a
hint of apology in her tone. "I hadn't anticipated your extreme reaction."

He took his seat and reached for a piece of bread. "Do not worry, my
lady. I bruise easily, but the bruises don't last long, and rarely do
they cause me pain."

They ate in silence for a few moments, and he finally found the courage
to broach a subject they'd been avoiding.

"I--I want to thank you for what you did last night," he told her
sincerely.

She took a long drink of wine from her trencher, then said, "What,
specifically, are you thanking me for?"

"For saving me from a lot worse punishment," he admitted. "I had time to
think about it, standing there in those stocks for all those hours. You
could have allowed Lady Fowley to name a punishment, you could have let
the party guests watch, but instead, you gave us our privacy during a
humiliating ordeal. I appreciate that."

Dana put down her bread and took his hand again.

"Fox, I didn't want to punish you at all. I was wrong, and so was
Mother, for not paying attention to Walter when he tried to gain our
assistance. The only reason you were put in the stocks is to give the
appearance of a harsh punishment to follow--our guests are none the wiser."

"I know. Walter said as much. But all the same, I thank you. Lady
Fowley...frightens me."

"You will do your best to avoid her in the future," Dana ordered, "and I
will see to it that she does not touch you again. That woman is a viper."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, finish your lunch, and let us see about that surprise."

Fox finished his meal, more eagerly now that his conscience had been
cleared, and as soon as they were done, Dana rose to her feet and left
the chamber. Fox followed closely, wondering what this new surprise
could be, and hoping it was not as unpleasant as the stocks.

They entered the Scully stables, and Fox spotted his surprise at once,
running to the stall occupied by the newest addition.

"Samantha!" he crowed happily, nuzzling the horse's head and allowing
her to do the same with him. "I missed you, my beautiful darling," he
crooned.

"Langly brought her over early this morning," Dana told Fox, enjoying
the reunion taking place. "I do believe she missed you, as well. Saddle
up, Fox," she said, leading Thunder from his own stall. "I'm sure
Samantha craves having you ride her. Perhaps we'll find a quiet spot and
you can ride me."

Fox was speechless at her reference to their lovemaking, and the wanton
way in which he had behaved. He continued to be amazed at his own
reaction to his beautiful wife, completely unprepared for the many ways
in which she insisted upon using his body and yet averse to none of
them, not really--not deep in his heart.

"My lady enjoys embarrassing me," he murmured as he placed a saddle on
Samantha's back.

"Indeed I do, Fox," she smiled. "I like to see your pretty face turn red
at my words. It's quite attractive. I'm also very pleased that you are
so pure and innocent, my darling, but you are a man now, and you must
learn to pleasure me in any way that I desire. Soon you'll grow used to
our activities, and you'll no longer feel shame."

"Not shame," he corrected as he mounted his horse and followed Dana out
of the barn. "Just..."

She gave him an understand look. "I know, it isn't considered proper for
a young man to know about such things. But you're married now, Fox, and
it's not only proper, it's expected. Lady Teena has sheltered you even
more than I suspected."

"After Father died, I was almost a prisoner on our estate," he confirmed
quietly. "Father gave me Samantha on the day she was born, and she has
been my truest friend. Haven't you, darling?" he cooed at the horse, and
Dana smiled.

"For the past five years, I've seen little of society. I never had a
Season in London, for Mother always intended to choose my wife, so I'm
quite uneducated in the ways of women. Father always told me..." He
stopped and shivered in the chilly afternoon air.

"What did your father tell you?"

Fox sighed. "He said that women would try to take advantage of me
because I was pretty. He said if I wasn't careful, I would be ruined,
and no woman would want me for marriage. I guess I believed a little too
deeply in his words."

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "it's true that some women feel that
way--they want their husband completely untouched or they don't want him
at all. I would have wanted you in any case, my Fox."

He glanced at her, startled. "Is that true?"

"Of course."

"Then," he teased, "I could have been bedded by many women and still
become Lord Scully?"

Dana's eyes narrowed. "But you've only been bedded by me, and so help
me, Fox, it had better be that way until I die. If I ever thought you
were with another woman--"

She let the threat hang, but Fox shivered again. He had seen enough of
his wife's temper to know that he never, /never/ wanted to cross her in
that manner. Besides, the thought of any other woman touching him the
way Dana did was slightly repulsive and more than a little frightening.

Their peaceful conversation was interrupted a moment later, and Fox
paled--it was the woman who could cause him to quake in his high-heeled
boots.

"Good afternoon, Lady Dana," called Diana Fowley's voice behind them.
"Fox, you're looking particularly lovely today."

"Thank you, my lady," mumbled Fox, edging Samantha closer to Thunder.

"You seem fully recovered, Diana," Dana observed coolly. "I'm glad to
see that knock on the head didn't rattle your brains further."

Diana's eyes narrowed briefly. "I do hope Lord Walter was suitably
punished for that, as well as Fox. You're sitting entirely too easily
for my taste, Sweet One."

Fox remained silent, his eyes on his saddle, hoping Dana would remember
her promise not to allow Diana to touch him again. Samantha whinnied and
nuzzled Thunder's neck. She didn't care for Lady Fowley either.

"Fox has been punished to my satisfaction," Dana replied.

"What a fine mare," Diana said, eyeing Samantha admiringly. "Lady Dana,
I do hope you'll consider selling her to me!"

Fox gasped, completely taken aback. Diana knew how much Samantha meant
to him, she had known his family for years. Fox had been with Angelfire
when she'd birthed Samantha, and he'd raised her and loved her all her
life. Surely Dana wouldn't sell his horse!

"I'll consider it," Dana answered evenly. "But I doubt you'll gain
satisfaction. Fox's horse is not for sale."

He slumped in the saddle with relief.

"But she isn't Fox's horse," Lady Fowley objected. A man cannot legally
own property. As your husband, any property that came with him from his
mother is now yours to dispose of as you see fit."

"Exactly," Dana agreed. "And I see fit to allow Fox to keep Samantha for
as long as he wishes. Good afternoon, Lady Fowley. Fox, come along."

Fox obeyed gratefully, following his wife as she rode away from Lady
Fowley, but he could feel the other woman's eyes on them until they
rounded a corner and were safe from her sight.

"Thank you, my lady," he whispered, obvious relief on his face, and she
turned to him in surprise.

"I want you to be happy with me, Fox," she told him earnestly. "It's
clear to me how much you and Samantha care for one another. I would
never take her away from you."

He nodded, patting the horse's neck comfortingly. "It's all right,
Sammy," he told her. "We have a good, kind mistress who will take good
care of us."

Dana smiled, urging Thunder on to a trot. "Come now, Fox. I know of a
clearing nearby where you can thank me properly."

"You mean...out in the open?" he asked, aghast.

"That's right."

"But my lady--someone might see us!"

Her laughter floated back to him on the wind. "Fox, if anyone sees us,
they will go discreetly on their way and leave us be. And besides,
anyone who saw me enjoying you would only envy me, and think what a
lucky woman I am to possess such a beautiful husband."

He sighed, and trotted after her. He had no choice, really--if he
refused her, she would only punish him, and then she would take him
anyway. And besides, his wife's attentions to his person were more
welcome than he felt comfortable admitting yet. He wondered if she would
allow him to be atop her again.



Fox crept carefully from the bed, slipping slowly from beneath the
possessive arm Lady Dana had flung over him. It was still an hour until
sunup, and with any luck he would be back in bed beside his wife before
she noticed his absence. Now, if he could only elude the servants. The
serving men weren't so bad, but the damned wenches were a step above him
in rank simply by virtue of their gender, and they never let him forget
it. He'd complained to Dana, feeling used and abused on more than one
occasion, but she had only patted his cheek and told him not to worry
his pretty head about it--the servant women might tease him a little,
but they knew where to draw the line.

Fox wasn't so sure, but he had no choice but to trust his wife, and to
be sure, none of the women had done anything more than grope him. He was
used to submitting to that--his mother's servants had done the same
thing. It wasn't unusual for him to find one of the male servants
surrounded by the women, after working hours were done, being teased and
tormented mercilessly. Usually the man would be taken away to the
servants quarters, probably to be the entertainment for the evening,
although Fox was never sure about that.

He'd questioned Jerry Lamana about it once, when they were younger, but
Jerry had merely shrugged and stated that it was the lot of a male
servant to be at the whim of the females. Sometimes the mistress of the
house would take a male servant to her bed--at times it would be the
man's only function to warm the mistress' bed--but he was fairly certain
Lady Teena had never done so. Not on a regular basis, anyway. As to Lady
Dana--well, she hadn't done so yet, but Fox was troubled by the idea
that she might. He wanted to be the only man in his lady's bed.

Fox crept carefully down the stairs, avoiding the step that always
creaked, and ducked into an empty room on the first floor when he heard
two of the servants approaching. It was part of the kitchen staff, on
their way to begin preparing breakfast for the family and staff, and Fox
breathed a sigh of relief that he had approved the week's menus with the
cook the day before. He need not concern himself further unless his
assistance was required in meal preparation, or a decision concerning
the kitchen had to be made.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, until the coast was clear,
and then slipped quietly out the door and ran for the stables. He needed
to ride Samantha. He needed to hold onto her neck, and smell her horsey
smell, and remind himself that not /everything/ in his world had gone
topsy-turvy in the past week.

He entered the barn happily, threw open the door to Samantha's
stall--and froze. It was empty. Samantha was gone.

Chewing thoughtfully on his lip, Fox glanced around quickly to see if
anyone was about. Could it be that one of the stable hands had merely
taken her out for some exercise? No, it was much too early for that.
They wouldn't begin working until sunup, and the entire barn was quiet.

Immediately, his mind jumped to what he considered the most logical
conclusion. It had to be Lady Diana. She had wanted to buy Samantha, and
when Dana had refused, Lady Fowley had stolen her! Poor Samantha--Fox
was afraid to think how she would be treated in Lady Fowley's care. He
had to get her back!

He bolted into the stable yard and bit back a cry of surprise when he
nearly ran smack into Walter.

Walter had been roaming the grounds when he had seen Fox sneak into the
stables. He was fairly certain Lady Dana wouldn't approve of her young
husband skulking about the property alone, especially before the sun
arose, and if Fox intended what Walter suspected...well, Walter knew
from sad experience what happened to Scully men who went riding without
protection.

"Fox, what are you doing?" he hissed quietly, grabbing the younger man
by the wrists to steady him.

"Let me go," Fox insisted, twisting away. "She's taken Samantha!"

"Who?" Walter demanded, clutching at Fox's arm when he tried to run.
"What are you talking about?"

Fox sighed impatiently. "Lady Fowley. She wanted to buy Samantha and
Dana wouldn't sell her and now she's /stolen/ her!"

Walter stared into the barn, at Samantha's empty stall, and then gave
Fox a little shake to calm him.

"You need to report this to Lady Dana at once," he began, but Fox was
already shaking his head vigorously.

"I haven't time, I must find Samantha!" he insisted. "I have to bring
her back. Besides," he added, almost as an afterthought, "what are /you/
doing out here alone?"

"It's my quiet time," Walter admitted. "Since Lady Maggie caught me
about to go riding alone, I haven't dared venture that again. I've taken
to walking the grounds in the early morning before anyone else arises."

Fox's eyes narrowed. "Lady Maggie would be furious if she knew," he
remarked slyly.

"She doesn't know. And you'd better not tell her, or I'll--"

"If you keep my secret, I promise to keep yours," Fox bargained. "I have
to go after Samantha. If anyone asks about me, create a plausible lie."

"You can't go to the Fowley land alone!" Walter objected, shocked at the
suggestion. "What would Lady Diana do if she found you? Fox...you might
be..." Walter couldn't even finish the sentence, the image was so horrible.

"I don't care," Fox tossed recklessly over his shoulder as he jogged
down the carriageway. "I have to rescue Samantha."

Walter stared after Fox, then looked helplessly up at the windows to
Lady Maggie's chamber. If she chanced to awaken and glance outside to
see her husband wandering the grounds in the dark, without an
escort...he shuddered. On the other hand, he simply couldn't let the boy
confront Lady Fowley alone. He should go after Fox, and drag him back
home if need be. That's what Lady Maggie would expect of him. Nodding to
himself, he set off after Fox. He had to get the younger Lord Scully
back home before the women discovered that they were both alone in their
beds.



Elizabeth squinted, staring down the road at the two figures
disappearing in the opposite direction. It was still somewhat dark, but
if she didn't know better, she would swear it was the two Lord Scullys,
tearing off down the road on foot, alone.

Shaking her head, she clucked at Samantha, giving the mare a bit more rein.

"It wasn't nice of you to go running back to Lady Teena's estate," she
scolded. "You're a Scully woman now. You live here."

Samantha nickered at her and followed obediently.

Elizabeth took another look down the road, barely able to discern the
dim figures now, and would have soon forgotten all about it had she not
heard a voice call, "Hurry up, Walter! You're lagging!"

It was definitely Lord Fox, Elizabeth thought with a sigh. Lady Dana
certainly had her hands full with that one. It was almost enough to make
Elizabeth glad she'd never taken a husband.

She led Samantha into the stable yard and turned her over to one of the
lads that tended the horses, then made her way toward the mansion. She
had no idea where the Lord Scully's were bound, but they were headed for
Fowley land. Lady Dana would be displeased. Greatly displeased.



Dana awakened, reaching for Fox in the big bed, planning to ravish him
this morning until he begged for mercy. One of the most satisfying
things about marriage was always having a man warming her bed when she
desired. Oh, Dana could have taken any number of servant men to her bed,
and had, on occasion, but she preferred the stability of making love
frequently with the same man, and she had never found one who pleased
her over a long period of time. Until Fox. She couldn't imagine ever
growing tired of him. He was so full of passion and sweet enthusiasm
that at times he took her breath away.

Her arms did not find that which they were seeking, and after groping
around the warm bed for several moments, Dana opened her eyes. Peering
through the gloom, she was surprised to find herself alone. Her jaw
clenching in anger, she rose swiftly from the bed and lit the lantern.
Fox's clothing, which she had tossed about the chamber the previous
evening in her haste to get him naked, was missing. Swallowing her
anger, Dana donned her robe. She told herself that Fox was merely
conscientious, that he had left their bed early to supervise the
servants in the morning meal preparation, but Dana knew that her husband
had arranged all the menus just the day before. Perhaps there was some
crisis, then, which had called him from his bed. Unlikely, she told
herself. Any crisis would have been called to /her/ attention, and she
would have delegated the handling of it to Fox had it concerned the
household. The only other answer, she fumed silently as she flung open
the chamber door, was that he had run away. She strode down the corridor
and tugged furiously on the door leading to the stairwell, nearly
ripping it off its hinges, and stopped short when she met her mother
just emerging from her own wing of the mansion.

"Have you seen Walter?" asked Lady Maggie, noting the rage on her
daughter's face.

"No, but I'll bet when I locate Fox, the two are together!" she
retorted, tugging angrily at the belt to her robe.

"Lady Dana--oh, Lady Maggie!" Elizabeth stopped at the top of the
stairs, surprised to see the two Ladies of the household in the
stairwell in their nightclothes.

"Yes, Elizabeth, what is it?" Dana asked impatiently.

"It's Lord Fox, my lady, and Lord Walter."

"Have you seen them?" Maggie demanded.

"Yes, my lady, I believe so. You see, Samantha slipped out of her stall
last night and made her way back to Lady Mulder's estate. I noticed her
missing early this morning, and guessing what had happened, I rode over
to fetch her. We were almost home when I saw two figures running down
the road away from me. At first I didn't believe it was them, but then I
heard Lord Fox's voice, and I knew I'd better let you know. My lady,
they had no escort, and they were headed toward the Fowley estate!"

"They were on foot?" asked Dana harshly, and her mother placed a calming
hand on her arm.

"Yes, my lady, and running for all they was worth."

"Very well. Thank you, Elizabeth. Dana, dress quickly. We must retrieve
them before they are spotted by Diana's people."

The two women sped back to their respective chambers, donning their
clothing as quickly as they could, and met in the stable yard. Dana
swung herself up on Thunder's back, and as Maggie mounted Hurricane, she
wondered at the coil of rope Dana had hung on her saddle.

Shaking her head in frustration, she followed Dana down the carriage
drive toward the road. Fox seemed a magnet for trouble, and her own
usually well-behaved Walter was able to get into more scrapes with the
boy around.

"Dana, you must take a firmer hand with that boy," she commented as they
turned their horses toward the Fowley land.

"Oh, I plan to, Mother. I plan to."



"Can you see her?" hissed Walter, and Fox shook his head. They were
within sight of the Fowley stables, just off the road hidden in some
brush, but so far all their spying had yielded no sign of Samantha.

So intent were the men upon their task that they were oblivious to the
sound of hoofbeats approaching.

"Maybe she's not in the stables," Fox whispered grimly. "Maybe Lady
Fowley has her somewhere else, somewhere horrible...maybe--"

"Maybe I'll whip your ass all the way home," cracked a voice behind him,
and Fox felt his legs turn to jelly.

Slowly, dreading what he knew he would see, Fox turned to face his
furious mistress. She glowered down at him from Thunder's back, and
directly behind her was Lady Maggie.

"My--my lady," Fox stammered, his mouth suddenly dry. "We were just--we
were--"

Lady Maggie ignored him, having eyes only for her own husband.

"Walter," she said in a warning tone that he had come to know too well.

Walter heaved an audible sigh, and gave himself up to his wife. He had
learned, from months of experience, that fighting her was useless. She
pulled him up, none too gently, and settled him in front of her on
Hurricane's back. Then, sparing neither word nor glance for Fox, Maggie
flicked the reins and rode away grimly.

Fox was left alone to Dana's mercies.

"Do you have an explanation for why I awakened to find you gone, my
sweet, and had to learn from Elizabeth, the stable girl, that she had
seen you and Lord Walter racing down the road on foot, toward Lady
Fowley's property? Could there possibly /be/ an explanation for that?"
She tried to keep her voice carefully neutral, but it was impossible to
erase all the fury from her tone.

"I--uh--my lady--I--" Fox gasped for breath, completely undone at the
sight of his lady's face. She was going to kill him. No question. She
was going to kill him this time. Would she do it quickly and mercifully,
or would she torture him for days first? Either way, it was all over now.

He closed his eyes tightly and said in a rush, "Samantha was missing and
I know Lady Fowley took her and I'm sorry Dana but I needed to help
Samantha and we have to get her back before Lady Fowley--"

"Enough!" roared Dana, and Fox clamped his lips shut.

"Samantha," Dana told him carefully, "is at home eating her breakfast.
It seemed she got a little confused about where home /is/ now, and
managed to slip out of her stall last night and make her way back to
your mother's estate. Elizabeth, expecting this behavior from a horse,
went to bring her back. What she did /not/ expect was to see you and
Lord Walter running down the road in the other direction, straight into
danger, without any kind of female escort!" Her voice had risen steadily
toward the end of her tirade, until she was actually yelling at him.

Fox remained speechless, knowing nothing he could say would make the
situation better, while Dana calmed herself. When she had regained some
control, she climbed down from her horse. Fox trembled as she approached
him, but knew running would only compound his trouble. Dana reached up
with both hands and ripped the shirt he was wearing straight down the
front, exposing his chest to the cool morning air. She continued tugging
at the fabric until it was in rags, and discarded them without another
thought.

"My lady--what--?" he gaped, but she ignored his protests. Next, she
withdrew a short length of rope from her saddlebag, and tied his wrists
together behind his back. Fox sighed, submitting to her, wondering what
else she had in store for him. The morning air was chilly on his skin,
and with an embarrassed flush, he prayed no one would ride by and see
him half naked, tied in such an undignified position. It was permissible
for a man to show his chest, indeed, some ladies even required it of
their husbands, but Fox had never been comfortable displaying his body
in that manner, and had been grateful that Lady Dana allowed him to
remain fully dressed--at least when others were around. Now he felt
exposed and humiliated, and more than a little frightened. She was going
to kill him.

"All right," Dana finally said in that silky voice he'd learned to fear,
"I'm giving you a choice, Fox. You may ride home, bare ass upturned over
Thunder's back within my easy reach, or you may walk home with a rope
around your neck, tied to my saddle, your chest bared for all who might
pass to enjoy. Either way, you still face a harsh punishment when we
arrive home."

It was several miles back to the Scully estate, and Fox's feet were
already beginning to ache inside his boots. He hadn't given a thought to
it when he'd set off after Samantha, but now he realized why they were
called /riding/ boots and not /walking/ boots. On the other hand, Lady
Dana was probably going to whip him raw when she got him home, and did
he really want to face that with an already sore bottom? He chewed his
lip indecisively for a moment, and finally muttered, "I'll walk."

"Do I hear insolence?" she demanded warningly.

"I'm sorry, my lady," he responded, more clearly this time. "I meant no
insolence, I swear it."

His lady fastened a loop around his neck without another word, tying it
loosely enough so as not to strangle him, with a knot that wouldn't
tighten as he walked, and then climbed astride Thunder. She tied the
other end of his leash around her saddle, and started Thunder off in a
brisk walk.

Fox was almost trotting to keep up, and with his hands tied behind his
back, keeping his balance was a challenge. He stumbled a time or two,
and Dana was forced to slow Thunder so as not to lose Fox.

He plodded along, ignoring the ache in his feet, his head bowed in
shame. He was relieve that Samantha was safe, and fearful of what Dana
was going to do to him when she got him safely back upon the Scully
lands. He shuddered as a mental picture of Isaac, chained in the rain,
invaded his memory. Dana would never do that to him. She was stern and
strict, but also kind and tender. She would punish him severely, but
surely she would never subject him to days of torture, ending in certain
death. Nobody was that cruel except Lady Fowley.

Fox wished Dana would yell at him, or scold him, or at least drop a word
in his direction, but she sat in stone silence, her back rigid and her
face set. Once or twice, he had glanced up at her and tried to work up
the courage to speak, but the anger flashing in her eyes kept him
silent. At least, at this early hour, it was unlikely that anyone else
would happen along to witness his humiliation, he thought, and then
groaned inwardly as hoofbeats sounded behind them, rapidly approaching.

Dana heard them also, and with an almost inaudible sigh, pulled Thunder
to a stop. Fox silently implored her to hide him in the woods, but she
glared at him and waited for the mysterious rider to appear. His head
dropped lower, his chin positively grinding into his chest, when he
realized the woman approaching was none other than Lady Diana herself.
Closing his eyes, Fox willed the ground to open up and swallow him. That
she should see him in this state of undress, so obviously enduring a
punishment...it was too awful to contemplate.

"So, the rumors were true," Lady Fowley called merrily, drawing her
horse to a stop beside them. "My servants informed me there was a stray
Fox loose upon my property this morning. I thought I should give the
matter my personal attention."

"He is not on your property at all, Lady Fowley," Dana said evenly.

Diana raked her eyes up and down Fox's fine physique appreciatively. He
refused to open his eyes, but he could feel her stare, and he blushed
even redder than before.

"I do enjoy your method of punishment, Lady Scully," Diana remarked.
"Trespassing--"

"Fox was not trespassing," Dana interrupted smoothly. "Indeed, he never
left the public road. He is being punished for riding out without an
escort, not for entering your lands."

"Well," Diana said after a few moments, still scrutinizing the
barely-clad man with a rope about his neck. "Perhaps you should keep him
on a shorter leash, Dana. There are those about who would spirit your
Fox away, given the chance."

"Indeed," said Dana tightly. "You will excuse us." She urged Thunder
onward and Fox was forced to open his eyes in order to retain his
balance, but he refused to lift them from the dirt road. He could feel
Lady Fowley, still sitting astride her horse in the middle of the road,
staring at them as they walked on.

With a sigh, he made his aching feet take another step, and another and
another. Farther from Lady Fowley and her evil, and yet nearer home and
his punishment. Fox felt well and truly trapped.

By the time they reached the Scully stable yard, all Fox wanted to do
was fall into bed and sleep for a week, but it was not to be. There was
still his punishment to get through. He expected to be tied to the
whipping post and beaten mercilessly, but instead, Dana walked him over
to a tree with low-hanging branches, and there she pulled Thunder to a
halt.

She reached down and untied the rope that bound his wrists, then told
him to raise his arms above his head. He did so eagerly, happy to be
able to change position, but moments later regretted his cooperation.
She tied his wrists together again, this time over a branch, so that he
was standing with his arms suspended above his head, helpless once more.

Finally, she cut the rope around his neck, and he took a deep breath.

"Wait there, Fox," she commanded. Slipping from Thunder's back, she
handed the reins to a stable girl and stalked off toward the kitchen.

"As if I had a choice," he grumbled to himself, but under his breath.
The last thing he wanted was to add to his wife's fury. He couldn't
imagine why she was making for the kitchen--surely she didn't keep a
whip in there! But as time crept onward, Fox decided she had not gone to
fetch a whip at all. Perhaps she intended to merely leave him here, tied
to this tree, until he dropped from sheer exhaustion. What seemed like
forever passed before she returned, and what looked like a basting
brush. Fox eyed her with trepidation as she approached.

"Are you going to whip me, my lady?" he asked weakly. If it had not been
for the rope holding him upright, Fox was certain he would have collapse
to the ground in a heap by now from fright and fatigue.

"No," she answered shortly, and to his surprise she dipped the basting
brush into the contents of the bowl. He peered over his shoulder and saw
what appeared to be nothing but plain water. He screeched a moment later
when Dana began liberally coating his torso with the cold water.

"What /is/ that?" he demanded, squirming in a fruitless attempt to elude
the tormenting brush, which she was now stroking up and down his belly.
"Stop, it tickles!"

"Sugar water," she replied calmly, ignoring his pleas for her to stop
torturing him. Fox jerked and struggled when she applied the sugar water
to his back, howling piteously when she reached the most sensitive parts
of his naked torso.

"No, no, not there, please not there!" he begged as she began to dab
large quantities of the sugar water in his sensitive armpits. "Oh, stop,
damn it, Dana!"

She glared at him. "Your language is quite unbecoming a man, Fox. I'll
thank you to stop using words of that nature, else I shall have to gag
you."

"I'm sorry, my lady, but please.../please stop/..." he whimpered as she
painted his ribs with the water.

When she finally finished, Fox was dripping with the sugar water,
hanging limply from the tree, panting heavily.

"All right," he moaned, "I'm sorry. I've learned my lesson, I swear.
Won't you please let me down now?"

"Oh, that wasn't your punishment," his wife told him cheerfully, turning
to whistle for Thunder. "That was only the preparation. Since Thunder
had to put himself out in order to rescue you this morning, I think it
only fair that he benefit from your discipline."

"What--what do you mean?" he asked fearfully, but she only gave him a
cold smile.

Seconds later, Thunder trotted obediently to her side, Dana allowed him
lick the sugar water from the brush. "Thunder simply adores sugar
water," she commented mildly, and after gaining the horse's interest,
she directed his eager tongue to Fox. Thunder soon found the
disobedient, sugar coated man to be quite to his liking.

"No! No, not that, my lady, please!" he begged tearfully, but Dana
stepped back and let Thunder do his work.

The rough tongue slurped hungrily at Fox's sensitive skin, and Fox
positively howled with laughter as the horse tickled his back, ribs,
belly, and underarms with his tongue. "Please! Oh please make him stop!"
Several servants had made their way outside, attracted by the commotion,
and Fox found himself begging any and all of them for mercy, but none
was forthcoming. The men turned away with sympathetic grimaces on their
faces, while the women stayed to watch, enjoying the spectacle of their
lady putting her husband in his place.

Thunder didn't seem to have a plan of attack--he would allow his tongue
to slurp across Fox's belly one moment, slip around to his sensitive
lower back the next, and then work its way up his ribs to lap and the
sugar water that dripped from the man's armpits.

Tears of rage, frustration and exhaustion ran down his cheeks, and Fox
struggled for all he was worth until his energy finally gave out. Then
he simply hung there, gasping for breath between his sobs of tortured
laughter, while the horse lapped the last of the sugar water from his
body. After Thunder had given a final lick and trotted back toward his
stall, a satisfied look on his face, Dana called two of the larger
female servants.

"Cut him down," she ordered, "and take him upstairs. Bathe him and put
him to bed. I'll deal with him later. Fox..." She grasped his chin to
make certain he heard her. "Wait for me in our bed. If I come to our
chamber and find you anywhere /except/ in our bed, I'll make you sorry,
am I understood?"

"Yes, my lady," he murmured, and leaning heavily on the arms of the
servants, he was escorted away.

Upstairs, Fox hadn't the energy to even be embarrassed as he was
stripped, washed, and put to bed naked by the servants. A couple of them
couldn't resist the urge to caress his most private places, but he was
too exhausted to even protest, and once they left him alone, Fox curled
beneath the covers and fell into a sound sleep.



Walter listened to Fox's screams coming from the stable yard and grasped
the arms of the chair tightly. He was uncertain which of the two
punishments he would rather endure. Lady Maggie had marched him up the
stairs to their chamber in ominous silence, and the moment they were
inside with the door secured she had turned on him.

"Remove your clothing, Walter. Every scrap of it."

Walter swallowed hard and reached for his shirt, slowly drawing it over
his head. It was rare that Lady Maggie made him strip off completely
when he was being punished, and her command to do so now did not bode well.

He had removed his boots, and drawn his breeches down with agonizing
slowness, but Maggie had waited patiently, her eyes icy stones. When at
last he stood before her naked, she pointed to the chair, and he sighed.
He hated bending over the back of the padded chair while she punished
him, and she well knew it. He always felt like a small child, and having
the blood rushing to his head seemed to make the punishment seem more
severe, somehow.

Wordless, he assumed the position, belly against the chair back, hands
clutching the velvet-covered arms, bottom well turned up to meet its fate.

He expected the hairbrush, and was unpleasantly surprised when the first
stroke of the strap landed across his behind. "Ow!" he yelled,
tightening his grip on the chair convulsively. This was going to be bad.

He was correct. The strap fell and fell, seeming never to stop, while
Lady Maggie lectured him about leaving their chamber before sunup,
walking about the estate unescorted, stealing of on wild adventures with
that young scamp her daughter had married, endangering himself by
walking onto the property of a known enemy...the list went on and on,
and so did the strokes of the strap, until Walter's feet were dancing on
the floor as he tried reflexively to elude the punishing blows.

"Please Maggie!" he begged over and ver again, but she was deaf to his
promises to do better, to never steal out of their bed again, to stop
allowing Fox to lead him into trouble.

When he had long since lost count of the stokes, and his previously
white bottom was a nice shade of scarlet, Maggie stopped at last, and
Walter sobbed his relief into the chair cushions.

"You can stay there for a while," she told him firmly when he began to
rise from the chair. "I'll enjoy looking at your red behind while I eat
my breakfast."

Lord Walter blushed as he heard the chamber door open and the servants
enter with a tray for his wife. He tried to ignore their giggles at his
predicament, comforting himself with the plan he was forming. This was
all Fox's fault, and he swore to himself to get revenge on the boy if it
was the last thing he did.

End part 5



Dana glanced fondly at her sleeping husband. His wrists had new bruises
over the old ones, and he had moaned in his sleep periodically during
the night. She was certain his muscles must be sore, and his feet had
blisters from walking so many miles in his riding boots. All the same,
he was adorable, his long lashes curling down to touch his cheek, his
wavy brown hair falling haphazardly over his forehead, and his muscular
arms sprawled out on her bed. She'd intended to make love to him the
night before, but when she'd reached for him, he had moaned piteously in
his sleep, and she'd not had the heart to wake him.

She thought of waking him with a kiss and taking him immediately,
staring for a few longing seconds at the bulge between his legs that the
sheet barely concealed, and then smothered a sigh. It was her right to
do so, but it would be unkind. He had suffered greatly the day before,
and lovemaking would be less than pleasurable for him this morning.

With a sigh of frustration, she climbed from the bed and rang for the
bathwater. She would have him immediately after breakfast, she vowed
silently. When the servants had filled the tub to her satisfaction she
requested a tray for Fox.

"Just for Lord Fox, my lady?" questioned Sarah, and Dana nodded. Sarah
was normally a parlor maid, but she had been doubling as Dana's chamber
maid since Reginald, a servant Dana had known all her life, had died
several months earlier.

"Yes, Sarah. Lord Fox will remain in bed today. I shall eat downstairs
with Mother and Walter, and then I must attend a patient in the village."

Fox stirred at the sound of their voices, and when Sarah had left the
room and Dana slipped into the bathwater, he forced himself to sit.

"Ohhh," he groaned as his muscles rebelled.

"You should lie down," she advised, hastily cleaning herself. "How do
you feel this morning?"

"I hurt," he told her petulantly. "Everywhere."

"I am not surprised," she said dryly. She finished her bath and rose
from the tub, reaching for the drying towel, and told him, "Get into the
tub now and clean yourself. Make haste, for Sarah will return shortly
with your breakfast."

He winced as he placed his weight on his blistered feet, and sank
gratefully into the warm water. "Am I confined to my room then?" he
asked carefully. "Is my punishment not completed?"

She touched his cheek lightly before going behind the screen to dress.
"Your punishment is over, sweeting, but today you must recover. I would
that you remain abed for this entire day."

"But I don't need to do that," he objected, and she gave him a dark look
around the edge of the screen. Fox sighed resignedly and finished his
bath. If Dana told him to remain abed, he would have to do so. He was in
no mood to face further punishment.

"It is my responsibility to see to it that you are cared for," she said,
emerging from behind the screen. "You must recover from your ordeal.
Your feet must heal, and your muscles are sore."

He hadn't realized quite how sore until he rose from the bath and
stretched. He truly /did/ ache everywhere, he realized with irritation.
He even had a nasty headache, and his stomach felt unsettled.

Fox slipped into a nightshirt, feeling the soft fabric swirl around his
skin, and Dana watched with a gleam in her eye. She didn't intend Fox
should wear the shirt for more than a few minutes, but his next words
spoiled her plans for a leisurely romp in her bed after breakfast.

"I don't believe breakfast will be required, my lady," he said, making
his way slowly back to bed. With every step he took, his nausea increased.

"Nonsense, Fox," she said briskly. "You must eat. You slept through
supper last night."

"Yes ma'am," he responded softly, climbing gratefully beneath the covers
and curling into a ball. He wanted to obey her, he truly did, but Fox
knew that any morsel he tried to put into his stomach right now was only
going to re-emerge soon.

Sarah entered the room with his tray but moments later, and Fox gasped
at the way his illness increased with the smell of the food.

"Are you sickening, Fox?" Dana asked, placing a concerned hand upon his
forehead. "You feel warm."

"I--I'm--" he gulped, his face taking on a decided greenish tint, and he
bolted from the bed, managing to reach the chamber pot before heaving
the bile of his empty stomach into it.

"Sarah, take the food away," Dana ordered, pouring a drink of cool water
for him. She washed his face, then helped him climb back into bed,
shivering beneath the covers.

"Have you been feeling ill?" she inquired, beginning a routine
examination. His skin felt feverish, and his face was flushed from the
exertion of emptying his stomach, but other than that he appeared
normal. His pulse was only slightly elevated, his heartbeat strong and
healthy, and there were no marks or bruises upon him except those at his
wrists.

"No, not until I rose from the bath," he answered. "And I feel fine now,
just a bit tired."

Sarah quietly removed the soiled chamber pot while Dana covered her
husband carefully and kissed his forehead. Reaching for a cloth and some
cool water, she bathed his face of sweat. Fox closed his eyes, breathing
slowly under her ministrations, and snuggled down further into the covers.

"I wish I could stay with you, sweeting, but I'm afraid there is a
patient I simply must attend this morning. I shall send Mother to check
on you later," she told him. "Ring for a servant if you need any
assistance, and other than that, you are to stay right here, do you
understand me, Fox?"

"Yes, my lady, only please--no more food."

She smiled indulgently. "We shall discuss the condition of your stomach
when lunch time arrives. Until then, I think more sleep might be the
cure you need."

He nodded and snuggled beneath the coverlet, already beginning to feel
drowsy, and she departed, closing the door carefully behind her.

When Dana slipped into her seat at the breakfast table, Maggie and
Walter were already halfway through their meal.

"Is Fox ill?" Maggie asked her. "Sarah said he was sickening."

"He is not well. A touch of some stomach ailment, I believe," Dana
replied. "I must attend Lady Rogers this morning--will you look in on
Fox later, Mother?"

The conversation was interrupted when Roberta, the butler, entered the
room.

"Excuse me, Lady Dana," she ventured. "There is a young man here seeking
employment. I asked him to wait."

"What kind of work does he do, Roberta?" Dana asked, reaching for
another muffin.

"He says he is an upstairs maid, my lady. Melvin has already met with him."

Melvin, the housekeeper, was very exacting in his standards, Dana knew.
If Melvin approved the prospective maid, her own interview would be
merely a formality.

"We are in need of more help in the upper regions of the house," Maggie
commented. "Sarah has been doing double duty for far too long. Will you
interview him?"

"I will," Dana told her, "but I refuse to take him on unless he agrees
to my terms."

Maggie smiled fondly at her daughter. "You are far too rigid, my dear,"
she remarked kindly, and Dana threw her a look of annoyance.

"Nonetheless, Mother, I am in charge of the estate," she reminded, and
Maggie nodded.

By all rights, the Scully estate should have been passed on to the
eldest daughter, Melissa, but Melissa had joined the military at a young
age, moving quickly up through the ranks until she had, at the
unprecedented age of thirty-four, become a General in command of the
Queen's Guard. She was quite wealthy in her own right, and had urged her
mother to leave the family estate to her younger sister instead.

"I can't manage it from London," she'd insisted, "and Dana is happy
here. Let her have it, to pass on to her daughters. I have my own wealth."

Maggie concurred, and, although Dana would not fully inherit Scully
Manor until her mother's death, the management of the vast estate had
been turned over to her several years earlier. Since then, Dana had
shown herself to be as competent an estate manager as she was a healer.

Hastily finishing her breakfast, Dana entered the salon where the young
man in question awaited. She stopped short, admiring the vision before
her. He wasn't as pretty as her Fox, but very nearly. His green eyes
glowed beneath his chestnut hair, and the lines of his face were
well-defined and attractive. He stood almost as tall as Fox, and his
form was pleasing in every way. His shirt was partially open, revealing
a chest that begged to be fondled. For a moment, Dana almost considered
taking the boy to her bed, but Fox was quite satisfying, and she was not
yet ready to supplement his favors with another.

"I am Alex Krycek, my lady," he said, bowing deferentially to her. "Your
housekeeper said you might have need of my services."

"You are an upstairs maid?"

"Yes ma'am. I have a letter of reference from my previous employer." He
handed her a scrap of paper, and she read its contents quickly. The Lady
who had written the reference was not an acquaintance of Dana's, but was
well known in London by reputation as an honest and trustworthy person.

"This is satisfactory," she said, handing the paper back to him.
"However, I think you should know that I only employ lifetime contracts."

His eyes widened a bit, but he said nothing. A male servant was required
to sign a contract to remain in the employ of a Lady for a certain
number of years, that number to be agreed upon by the employer and
prospective servant. During the time a man was contracted, he was
treated as the property of the Lady, and she was expected to provide for
all his needs in exchange for his service. A contract could be as many
years as both desired, but a very few employers required lifetime
commitments from their servants. Thus, if Alex signed a contract with
Lady Dana, he would essentially belong to her for the rest of his life.
She could use him, work him in any capacity she chose, even marry him
off if it was her desire. A lifetime contract was an enormous decision.

Alex narrowed his eyes, considering--the Scully family had a reputation
for treating their servants well. Besides, if his endeavor was to
succeed, he really had no choice. He must be employed by Lady Dana, no
matter the cost. And, he reminded himself, if his plan came to fruition,
he would soon be warming the Lady's bed on a regular basis, and his life
would be comfortable--as comfortable as a man could reasonably expect.

"The Scully estate is a desirable employer," Dana continued. "We take
very good care of our servants, and you'll find they're all quite happy.
I'm not of a mind to hire a man, get him well trained, then have him
leave me to go to one of my neighbors. If you feel this commitment is
not to your liking, please seek employment elsewhere."

"No, my lady," he said quickly. "It's quite satisfactory. Indeed, it
would be an honor to be taken under contract by one so esteemed in the
region."

She looked him up and down carefully for a minute, and Alex stood
straight and tall beneath her scrutiny.

"Remove your shirt," she ordered.

Alex looked startled. "My lady?" he questioned hesitantly.

"I wish to see if you bear any marks of displeasure from previous
employers."

Alex opened his mouth as if to protest, but seeing her unbending
expression, quickly obeyed. He stood silently, head bowed, while she
prowled around him, examining his smooth flesh carefully. His back bore
no marks or scars of any kind, and the muscles in his chest and arms
were firm and strong.

"Very well," she said at last. "You may begin at once. You will be
caring for the East Wing, where my husband and I live. Melvin will show
you to your room and get you started."

"Roberta," she called, and the butler entered the room immediately.
"Draw up a contract. Do you read or write?" she asked, turning back to
Alex. The slave shook his head, wide-eyed at the prospect of a man being
so educated. "Place your mark upon the contract, then," she told him.
"Roberta will show you where."

"Thank you, my lady," he said, flashing her a toothy smile that very
nearly caused her to forget her resolve to let Fox be this morning.
Indeed, a romp in bed with her beautiful husband was just what she
needed to take her mind off her lust, but Fox was unwell, and there
simply wasn't time. With a sigh, she started for the village, leaving
Alex in Roberta's care.

When Dana arrived at Lady Rogers' home, she found that her patient had
worsened, and she spend the rest of the morning and most of the
afternoon easing that woman's final hours. Toward early evening, Lady
Rogers at last passed to the great beyond, and Dana spoke a few
comforting words to her husband before taking her leave, weary and sad.
Lady Rogers had been a lifelong resident of the village, and had lived
fifty-seven good years. She would be missed. Luckily, Lord Rogers had
several daughters to care for him. He would not be left to fend for
himself, as poor Walter had been when Lady Sharon had died.

All the same, his devastation at the loss of his wife had shaken Dana.

"Why should I live?" he implored, tears streaming down his face.

"There now," she comforted him. "You have three fine daughters. They
will care for you."

Lord Rogers shook his head, his grief overwhelming. "Without Ann, my
life is nothing," he whispered, staring at the room where his wife's
lifeless body lay.

Dana, unknowing of what to say in such a situation, although she had
faced death on many occasion, crept silently from the house and took her
leave. What must it be like, she wondered, to have your husband adore
you? True, Fox cared for her--at least she believed he did--but the
complete devotion Lord Rogers showed to Lady Ann had been a revelation
to Dana. She wondered how she had failed to notice it in the past, and
how many other couples felt the same.

Not many, she decided at length. A man must love his lady wife, that was
expected, but for a woman to feel anything more than fond affection for
her husband was, in Dana's opinion, a sign of weakness. Scully women
were never weak.

Lost in thought as she rode slowly toward home, Dana was surprised to
meet Lady Teena, returning home herself from a visit to a friend nearby.

"How is my son," Teena asked, smiling. "Have you taken him well in hand?"

"Indeed I have, my lady," Dana replied. "He is quite spirited."

Teena looked amused. "Oh yes, Fox always did find himself in trouble
more often than the average boy. You look tired, Dana, are you quite well?"

"I am well, thank you. I have just come from Lady Rogers' deathbed."

Teena nodded soberly. "I knew Ann did not have many days remaining. I
saw her just yesterday. Poor Franklin. He loved her so."

Dana sighed. "It is the most difficult part of being a healer, watching
the families left behind. Speaking of such, I must hurry home and see to
Fox."

"Oh dear, is he ill?"

"He was a bit unsettled this morning. Mother has been caring for him
today."

"Well, give the boy my love, and tell your dear mother that she must
come to visit me soon," Teena told her, flicking the reins and moving on.



Fox lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling in boredom. His muscles were
still a bit stiff and sore, but his stomach felt fine. He had not been
ill since Sarah had removed the breakfast tray early that morning, and
he was certain it had been merely a passing ailment. He wanted to get
out of bed, perhaps go for a walk around the grounds, but Dana had
ordered him to remain where he was, and Maggie had popped in several
times to check on him. He didn't dare risk her wrath if he was caught
disobeying Dana.

He had counted the decorative spots on the ceiling at least twice when
there was a light tap at the door.

"Yes?" he called, and the door opened to reveal Sarah, followed closely
by a very handsome young man.

Fox stared at the new arrival uncertainly, suddenly feeling rumpled and
unattractive. Alex was quite pretty--no, he was much more than 'quite
pretty'--he was stunning, Fox realized with a bolt of pure jealousy. The
man stood tall, maybe taller than Fox, and his body was well filled out
in all the right places. His eyes were a deep green, and his hair fell
across his forehead enticingly. Fox sniffed the air surreptitiously,
wondering if Sarah had managed to removed all smell of his sickness from
the room.

"My lord Fox," Sarah reported, "this is your new chamber maid, Alex.
He'll be taking care of the East Wing starting today."

"Lord Fox," Alex said politely, inclining his head slightly in Fox's
direction. "I am sorry you are ill."

"I'm fine," Fox muttered, then remembered his manners. "Welcome to the
Scully estate, Alex," he said formally. "Melvin, the housekeeper, will
instruct you in what your duties will entail."

"I have already spoken to Melvin," Alex assured him, and there was
something of a glint in his eye that made Fox uncomfortable. "He tells
me I may spend a good deal of my time in this chamber...both day and
night," he added in a low voice meant only for Fox.

Fox was taken aback at the outright suggestion that Alex might spend
nights in Dana's chamber, so taken aback that he could not think of a
thing to say. Several retorts crossed his mind, but he knew that any
snide comment he made in front of Sarah would find its way back to Dana,
and he did not want his backside to answer for it later. Instead, he
curtly dismissed the two servants, telling Sarah he wished not to be
disturbed for the rest of the day, and slid down beneath the covers
again. He thought he heard soft, mocking male laughter from the corridor
just as the door closed.

Fox lay in his bed for another half hour, fuming, wondering why he felt
so threatened by the presence of another attractive man in the
household. Surely Dana would not throw him out of her bed so soon. On
the other hand, if he was too sick to perform his husbandly duties,
perhaps she would seek her pleasure elsewhere.

He must become well, Fox decided, as quickly as possible. He pulled
himself to a sitting position, clutching at the night stand when his
balance threatened to leave him, and waited for the wave of dizziness to
abate. When at last he felt somewhat recovered, he rose on shaky legs
and made his way to the window. Fresh air, he decided, would go a long
way toward helping his recovery.

Fox opened the window and drew in deep gulps of the outside air, but the
breeze was blowing from the wrong direction, and none of the cleansing
air would enter the room. Finally, feeling braver on his feet, he made
up his mind. He would go outside for a walk. Just a short one, he told
himself. He wouldn't leave the main courtyard. Surely Dana wouldn't mind
if he took a tiny little walk around the yard, just to get some of his
strength back.

Having reached a decision, Fox dressed quickly and left the room at
once, glancing quickly up and down the corridor to make certain he was
not observed. As he allowed the chamber door to close silently behind
him, he could hear Melvin's voice coming from a few rooms down, rising
and falling in cadence as he explained the housekeeping duties to Alex.
As Fox listened, the younger man's musical laughter rang out, and Fox
tightened his jaw jealously. The new maid even had an attractive laugh!
Feeling a bit like a limp dishrag, Fox crept down the hall and through
the massive doors that separated the East Wing from the rest of the house.

Silently he slipped down the stairs, glaring at the young cook's
assistant who spotted him. The boy, no more than fourteen, gave Fox a
look of sheer terror and scuttled toward the kitchen. Satisfied that his
flight would not be reported, Fox confidently opened the front door.

If he hadn't been glancing hurriedly over his shoulder, he would have
seen the tall, beautiful woman who stood on the front steps, ready to
enter the mansion, but instead Fox, intent upon avoiding discovery, ran
headlong into her.

"Oh!" he gasped when he collided with her firm body. Her hands went
immediately to his waist, steadying him, and he blushed at the intimacy
of her touch even as he realized without it he would have fallen.

"I'm--I'm sorry, I--" Fox gazed at the vision of loveliness before him
and swallowed hard. She was nearly as tall as him, with a solidly built,
strong body, which the military style uniform she wore emphasized to
perfection. Her hair was a bit darker than Dana's--almost brown with red
highlights. Her eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen, and Fox
stared into them, completely at sea for a few moments.

The lady in question stared back at him, a small smile hovering around
her lips, and then gave him a slight bow. She released him and stepped
back, and he began to breathe normally again.

"You must be Fox," she said in a voice that was soft and yet strong all
at once. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers
gallantly, and Fox shivered.

"Welcome to the Scully family," she said, looking him up and down with
amusement. "I am Lady Melissa, Dana's older sister."

Melissa! Fox barely remembered Melissa from when they were children. She
was at least ten years older than Dana, and had left home to join the
army almost before he was old enough to be aware of what the army was.
He had a vague recollection of a tall, gangly teenager, teasing him and
Dana mercilessly.

"You don't remember me," she commented, and Fox fought for a modicum of
composure.

"Of course I remember you, my lady," he answered shyly. "You used to
pull my hair!"

She threw back her head and laughed heartily, and Fox thought her
laughter the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, certainly much more
so than that uppity maid Dana had hired. Her laugh was honest, true and
open, and Fox felt himself responding in kind.

"I did indeed," she replied. "You would become quite furious with me!
And now you are my sister's husband. You have grown up to be quite a
beautiful man, Fox."

Fox lowered his gaze, embarrassed, but Melissa pressed on.

"Where are you sneaking off to in such a hurry?" she asked in a
conspiratorial tone. "I saw you glancing behind to make certain you
weren't being followed."

Fox stared into her eyes, worried at first that she might betray him,
and relaxed when he saw nothing but calm amusement in them.

"I wanted some fresh air," he confessed. "I was a bit ill this morning,
and Dana told me to remain in bed, but the room was quite stuffy..."

"And you were bored and thought you could get away with a walk around
the grounds without being detected," she finished for him, and he
nodded, giving her a shy smile.

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"Now why would I do that?" she asked, offering him her arm. "Allow me to
act as your escort, Lord Fox?"

"My--my pleasure," he stammered, accepting her assistance gratefully.
"I'm afraid I'm still a bit weak on my feet."

"We'll go slowly," she promised, and, allowing him to lean on her as
they traversed the grounds, she soon had him in stitches with talk of
their younger days.

"I remember Dana was always quite jealous of you," she commented. "She
nearly chopped off Elizabeth Knight's arms when she learned Elizabeth
had kissed you!"

Fox blushed. "We were only children then," he murmured. "I couldn't have
been more than seven."

"Ah, but my little sister has had her eye on you for years," Melissa
told him. "Somehow I always knew she would have you if she could."

"Do you think she could ever..." Fox began, and stopped, feeling foolish
asking this great lady such a question. Of course Dana would never fall
in love with him. Ladies simply cared for their husbands--they didn't
love them. A husband was something to be shown off and petted, used for
pleasure, someone to raise the children and keep the house, but a woman
didn't fall in love. It simply wasn't like a Lady.

Melissa waiting for him to finish his unasked question, but instead, he
gasped and clutched at her arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned.

"I think perhaps I've overdone," he replied, his face going a bit green.
"I'm afraid I'm going to be sick again."

"I'll help you upstairs," she told him, slipping her arm around his
waist for support. He took another step and then stumbled, and with a
shake of her head, Melissa swung him up into her arms, carrying him
easily toward the house. Fox buried his face against her shoulder,
uncomfortable at the feeling of her breasts pressing into his side, yet
too ill to protest.

Dana, riding Thunder quickly up the drive, saw a man who closely
resembled her husband walking on the arm of a very attractive woman. Her
eyes narrowed angrily when she realized it /was/ her husband. 'Damn it!
What the hell is he doing out of bed!' she raged inwardly. 'Is he
/incapable/ of following my orders?'

Hurrying Thunder into the stable, she handed his reigns over to a
servant and strode purposefully toward the house, slapping her crop
angrily against her thigh. Fox would learn to obey her, she vowed, if it
took the rest of his life. Oh, he might be too ill to punish tonight,
but he would most certainly be recovered within a day or two, and then
he would feel her displeasure.

She bounded up the stairs, tossing her cloak and gloves aside
carelessly, and threw open the door to her bed chamber. Her eyes took in
the scene all at once, and Dana felt her stomach tighten.

"Melissa," she stated flatly.

Her sister looked around at Dana from where she sat on the bed beside
Fox. Fox lay on his back, his shirt pulled up to reveal his bared
stomach, and as Melissa spoke her hands continued a slow, circular
stroking motion on his skin.

"Hello, Dana," she greeted her sister. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"We didn't expect you," Dana said tersely. "What are you doing?" She
forced herself to remain calm, even though her oh-so-modest husband was
lying in her bed, his eyes closed, allowing a strange woman to touch him
intimately.

"Fox became ill again, so I am helping ease his discomfort," Melissa
replied calmly, continuing her attentions.

Dana watched for another few seconds, and finally could stand no more.
She strode over to the bed and jerked her husband's shirt down to cover
him. Fox, who had slipped into a state of near unconsciousness, started
into complete wakefulness.

"My--my lady--" he stammered, and she glowered down at him.

"You disobeyed me," she said in a deadly tone. "You were instructed not
to leave your bed."

"He needed fresh air, Dana," Melissa interjected, but Dana ignored her.

"I'll be the judge of what he needs," Dana replied, with more than a
touch of arrogance. "Such activity could have only worsened the
situation. If he needed fresh air, he should have opened the window."

Melissa rose, giving Fox an encouraging smile, and left the room. It was
better to let Dana go ahead and vent her anger. She knew Dana wouldn't
actually punish Fox now, not in his condition, but her sister had always
been headstrong and Melissa had never been able to teach her patience.

"Well...I'll see you at dinner," she said quietly before closing the door.

Dana gave an icy nod and waited while her sister left the room. Then she
drew the curtain, dimming the brightness, and lay down carefully beside
Fox. He opened one eye and observed her. His pale face was beautiful in
the dim light, and Dana felt herself softening toward him. After all,
she reminded herself, Fox was still inexperienced in the ways of women,
and he had been ill. He was not entirely to blame for the situation with
Melissa.

"How are you, sweeting?" she asked, softly caressing his cheek.

"Better now, I think," he whispered, grateful that her anger appeared to
have dissipated for the moment. "Lady Maggie kept forcing me to drink
her potions, but they wouldn't stay down. I just wanted to be left
alone. And then later, I felt better, but I needed some air, and the
window wasn't sufficient--I just wanted to take a quick walk around the
grounds and I would have gone right back to bed, but I met Melissa--I'm
sorry I disobeyed you, my lady."

"Mother was only trying to help you, Fox," Dana sighed. "But I know how
you feel. When I was young, and would fall ill, she would do the same to
me."

She thought she saw the ghost of a smile.

"As for your disobedience..."

He glanced up at her hopefully.

"We'll deal with that later."

She ignored his sigh, and went behind the screen to change. "I hired a
new maid this morning, have you met him?" she called to him.

"Yes. The little tramp," he added under his breath.

"Well, anyway," she said absently, missing the slight note of jealousy
in his voice, "what's important is that you fulfill your duties as my
husband. He'll be an upstairs maid, and will care for this wing,
including our chamber, so you'd best meet with him as soon as you are
feeling up to the task, and inform him of any duties Melvin may have
neglected to mention."

"Yes, my lady," he replied grudgingly, and pulled himself to a sitting
position, leaning against the massive headboard. His nausea seemed all
but diminished at this point, since Lady Melissa's intervention, and he
savored the relief. Fox was rarely sick, and being forced to take to his
bed due to illness was unbearable.

Dana emerged from behind the dressing screen wearing a long, flowing
silk robe in a shade of midnight blue that caused her eyes to glow, and
Fox swallowed hungrily at the sight. He hoped she would climb into the
bed and take him at once, but instead, she sat down before her mirror
and began stroking through her long, red hair with her hairbrush.
Mesmerized, he watched the bristles slide through her hair, separating
each strand, and he could almost feel it slip between his fingers, soft
as a kitten's fur.

"What is it, Fox?" she asked, continuing to run the brush through her hair.

"I--I want--" He seemed at a loss for words, but Dana was determined to
make him say the words. It was long since time Fox got over his shyness
about lovemaking, in her opinion.

"What do you want?"

Rising from the bed, he crossed to where she sat and took the brush from
her fingers.

"May I, my lady?" he requested, and she nodded. He began to brush her
hair, gently stroking the bristles from her scalp to the end of the long
red strands over and over. Dana leaned back, eyes closed, her expression
blissful, and Fox tended to her hair happily. The softness of the wisps
between his fingers, combined with the faint scent of the soap she used
to clean her hair, made a hunger begin to grow in him with which he had
only recently become familiar. He made a noise deep in his throat, and
Dana opened her eyes, looking up and smiling at the naked desire she saw
on her husband's face.

"What do you want?" she asked again, softly this time.

He bit his lip, knowing she wanted him to voice his desire, feeling lust
and embarrassment warring within him. "I want you to.."

She waited, perfectly still, for him to finish.

"Make love to me, Dana. Please."

His eyes were clenched tightly shut, but he had at last spoken the
phrase she wished to hear, and Dana took the hairbrush from his limp
fingers and rose from her chair. Fox opened his eyes as she turned to
him, slowly allowing her robe to slip over her shoulders and fall to the
floor.

"It is the first time you've spoken of your desire for me," she said
softly, laying her hand lightly on his cheek, and he nestled his face
into her palm. "I am quite pleased."

He turned his face to nestle his lips against her fingers, and she
stroked tenderly over their fullness. Her hand slid up to caress the
back of his neck, and then he felt himself pulled down, down, to drown
in her lips, her eyes, her sweetness.

Dimly, Fox realized she was leading him toward their bed, and when she
lay down on her back and pulled him over her, he smiled. He loved when
she took him like this--the feeling of power and control, while he knew
it to be false, was heady and exciting.

"Now, Fox," she whispered in his ear, and without further delay he
plunged his throbbing manhood deep within her softness, stroking in and
out at her command, slower, then faster, harder, deeper, until he was
moaning with his own need. Just when he was certain he would not be able
to prevent spilling his seed for another second, she threw back her head
and made that animal growl that he adored, and moments later he clutched
her to himself as he reached his own state of bliss.

Afterwards, as he lay panting with exertion beside her, she stroked his
flesh up and down, her soft fingers sending chills up and down his spine.

"You are so lovely, my Fox," Dana whispered to him. "I've wanted you for
this entire day."

"As have I, my lady," he replied sleepily, a bashful grin on his face,
and Dana smiled before kissing his lips tenderly.

"Sleep now," she instructed. "Unless you wish food?"

He shook his head, almost asleep already.

"I'll be upstairs late," she told him. "I must write up some notes
before I retire."



Quietly, she rose from the bed and cleaned herself, then dressed and
left the room, turning the lamp down to a mere glimmer. Fox lay
innocently sleeping, his face so boyish in the dim light that she shook
her head wonderingly. He was such a contradiction, this husband of
hers--shy and modest, completely proper, and yet willing to be as wild
as she desired in her bed. He was truly a prize, she decided, making her
way downstairs to the dining room, and she would not let Melissa or
anyone else take his attentions from her.

When Dana entered the dining room, the rest of the family was already at
table, and Maggie gave her a sly smile as she slid into her seat.

"I was afraid you wouldn't be joining us, my dear," Maggie remarked
blandly, her eyes on her plate. "How is Fox this evening?"

"Tired," Dana said shortly, reaching for a slice of bread. "He is
sleeping and does not require a meal."

"He must eat," Melissa put in. "He will need to maintain his strength to
keep up with you, little sister."

Dana stared at her, feeling the old jealousy trying to rear its head and
consciously suppressing it.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from the head of the Queen's
Guard?" she asked, politely ignoring her sister's innuendo.

"I was due a leave," Melissa informed her, sprinkling salt on her
potatoes. "I was sorry to have missed your wedding, Sister, and yours,
Mother. When the opportunity arose, I felt it was time to return home
for a visit, in order to meet the new men in the family."

She smiled disarmingly at Walter, who blushed becomingly and dropped his
gaze to his lap.

"I must say, you have both done quite well for yourselves," Melissa
continued. "Both Walter and Fox are quite lovely and charming."

"Yes," Maggie replied with a fond glance at her husband. "Walter pleases
me greatly. He is an excellent host, and keeps the estate accounts as
competently as any woman."

Walter's blush deepened at her praise. "Thank you, my lady," he
whispered, wishing the attention of the women would become focused
somewhere other than on himself.

Maggie, as if reading her husband's mind, switched the conversation
immediately.

"How is Lady Rogers?" she asked Dana, and Dana shook her head sadly.

"She did not last the afternoon," Dana reported. "I was quite saddened,
as were her daughters."

"And her husband?" Melissa asked casually. "How did Lord Rogers take the
loss?"

"He was upset, as can be imagined," Dana said. "However, he has three
good daughters who will care for him. He need not fear abandonment."

"It is not the fear of abandonment that causes Lord Rogers' grief,"
Melissa said gently. "I have met both Lady and Lord Rogers frequently.
Franklin adored his wife."

"As is appropriate," Dana replied. "A man should love his wife, he
should be devoted to her needs and her comfort."

"And how must a wife view her husband?" Melissa asked, curious as to
Dana's opinion on this controversial topic.

"A husband is a possession," Dana told her plainly. "He should strive to
make himself as attractive and as agreeable as possible, in order to
reflect well upon his wife. He should be available whenever she wishes
him, and make himself unobtrusive when she does not. In short, dear
sister, husbands should be seen and not heard."

Melissa shook her head slowly. She had seen much of the world in her
travels with the Queen, and was wiser in the ways of different cultures
than Dana. Dana, while she had traveled a good bit in the military, had
largely been in a protected environment, full of dominant and strong
women who thought of men as little more than providers of their
entertainment.

"There are some societies where men and women are considered equally
important," Melissa informed them.

"Those societies must be on the verge of collapse!" Dana snorted
derisively.

"Indeed, no, they work quite well. And this will truly gall you, Sister,
but I have even seen cultures where the /men/ are the rulers and
providers, and women the subservient ones."

Dana stared, disbelieving.

"Can such a society exist for long?" asked Maggie. "Men have not the
knowledge or the emotional fortitude to run the world. They are meant
for raising children and pleasing women."

"The people of Godanza, in the heart of Africa, have lived that way for
generations," Melissa responded. "I have seen them myself. The men run
the town, and the women are the ones who keep the homes and raise the
children. It's really quite interesting."

"It sounds appalling," Dana growled, throwing down her napkin and rising
to her feet. "If you will excuse me, Mother, Melissa, I'm really quite
fatigued."

"Of course, daughter," Maggie answered. "It has been a difficult day for
you. Is Fox quite over his illness?"

"Quite," Dana told her, nodding to Melissa and taking her leave.

Walking toward the stairs, she gritted her teeth as she heard her sister
ask brightly, "So, Walter, what do you think of a society where men are
dominant?"

She was unable to hear his answer, but gave another angry snort when
both her mother and sister burst out in laughter. Men in charge! The
very idea was ludicrous. Dana half-believed that Melissa made up these
wild stories out of her imagination, in order to take advantage of her
mother and sister's lack of world experience.

Melissa had always been the shining sun of the Scully family, she
reflected, shoving open the doors to the East Wing, and she had always
been but a dim star on the horizon compared to her sister. Dana had
traveled the continent in the army, but Melissa had actually mingled
with the people of the world, learning their cultures and languages.
While Dana was successful in her chosen profession, Melissa was one of
only three Generals responsible for the Queen's Guard--one of the
highest, most prestigious positions in the entire land. And while Dana
had always considered herself adequately smart and adequately pretty,
Melissa was brilliant and beautiful.

Dana made her way to the salon in the East Wing, and spent several hours
writing her notes on Lady Rogers' case, as well as a few others she had
neglected recently. She had been spending entirely too much time
concentrating on her delectable new toy, she reflected, and not enough
time attending to business.

Her thoughts drifted back to the image of Fox lying in her bed, his
soft, smooth skin bared to Melissa's lingering touch, and she felt
herself growing angry all over again.

With a muttered curse, Dana rose and poured herself a tumbler of drink,
downing half of it in one gulp and refilling it immediately. She
returned to her desk, forcing her mind to focus on her notes, and was at
last able to complete them in something resembling a satisfactory
manner. It had taken much longer than it should have, due to her current
state of mind, and that fact angered her further.

Dana's mood darkened as she approached their bed chamber. It was nearing
ten o'clock, and she wasn't drunk, but she was certainly seeing things
more clearly, she told herself.

Fox had been laughing and clutching Melissa's arm earlier in the day,
and then, as modest as he was, he had bared his flesh for Melissa to
touch with her hands. It was unlike Fox, but apparently her sister's
magic worked with all manner of men. Certainly Walter had become a
blithering fool when her attention was focused on him.

She threw open the chamber door, not even trying for silence, and Fox
sat up quickly in bed at her entrance.

Dana stared at Fox, looking beautiful and desirable in her bed, an
expression of wariness on his lovely face.

"Did--did you enjoy your supper, my lady?" he asked tentatively, hoping
to dispel her unexpected mood with pleasant conversation.

"No," she said shortly. "Melissa was relating foolish nonsense of men
dominating women."

Fox looked disbelieving. "I should not like to dominate you, my lady."

"That is good, husband, because you certainly never will," she replied
firmly, eyeing his luscious form and feeling her arousal stir again.

Fox could see the desire in her eyes, and a slight fear shook him. He
didn't know what he had done to bring on her sudden anger, but he was
afraid if she took him now, feeling as she did, she would hurt him.

"Would you like a--a bath?" he asked, trying to mask the desperation he
felt. "I could put in some of the soothing oils you prefer. You could
relax..."

He trailed off as she continued to stare at him, and then swallowed hard
as she began to approach, stripping off her clothing as she moved.

"A bath is not what I had in mind," she said pointedly, moving beside
him and seating herself on the bed.

Fox gripped the coverlet tightly, willing himself not to move away from
her like a frightened virgin, feeling his heart pound in his chest as
she drew nearer.

"Dana?" he asked tremulously before she pounced upon him, seizing his
face between her hands and kissing him roughly, possessively, pressing
her body against his until he could feel her heat through his night shirt.

When at last she released his bruised and swollen lips, Fox was
breathless. Dana pushed him back so that he was lying on the bed, and in
the next instant had secured his wrists above his head with her
stockings, tying them tightly to the bed post. She threw the coverlet
aside and tugged on his legs until he was lying across the bed at an
angle, his nightshirt pushed up almost to his waist. Fox felt the color
creep up his face as Dana took in the sight of him, starting at his toes
and working her way slowly up his body until her eyes came to rest on
his face.

"You are mine," she said forcefully. "No other woman will ever have you."

"No, my lady," he whispered, mesmerized by the look in her deep blue eyes.

"I intend to take you now," she informed him, "and make it last for
hours. You will not find your release for a long time tonight, my love,
so prepare yourself. Should you allow your seed to spill before I say
you may, it will go very badly for you."

Fox nodded, his gaze still locked with hers, as slowly, slowly, she bent
toward him, running her tongue across his neck, lapping at the hollow
there, nibbling and biting his ears, chin, shoulders. He shivered
beneath her assault, feeling himself grow impossibly hard as she rubbed
her hips against his groin. Before long he was panting with the desire
for her to take him, and with the effort of holding back his release.

Dana took him slowly, kissing his body up and down, not gently this
time, not as a tender lover but as a wife bent on expressing her
domination over her husband. She didn't hurt him, but the torture she
put him through caused him to cry out his frustration again and again,
and when she finally sheathed him, slipping him inside her moistness, he
nearly cried in relief.

"Hold yourself!" she commanded, and he nodded again, biting his lip, his
brow furrowed with the concentration of giving her as much pleasure as
he was able while still denying his own.

She rode him hard and fast, and soon he found himself whimpering his
need, begging her in almost incoherent sentences to please allow him to
come, please allow him to find his release, please put him out of this
torment, and at last she clenched her muscles tightly around him and he
knew he could hold back no longer, and with a relief so great he cried
out with it, he lost himself in her, hearing her whispered, "Now!" and
obeying immediately, thrusting upwards into her sweet body again and
again and again until he was completely drained, both of his seed and
his energy.

He had barely come back to his senses when she climbed off him, reaching
for a washing cloth and dipping it into the water in the basin.

"That was very satisfying to me," she said calmly, cleaning herself and
straightening her clothing while he looked on, still panting for breath.
"You have served me well, Fox."

Fox tried hard to ignore his disappointment at her words, comforting
himself with the notion that it was simply her manner of speaking, that
she did care for him in some way, at least. It was difficult not to feel
like a mere object when she spoke thusly, but truly, she could not think
of him as merely a body to warm her bed, not after the tenderness with
which she'd treated him over the last few days. Dana was simply spirited
and commanding, certainly fine qualities for a woman to have. After all,
he couldn't expect tender kisses and loving words every single time she
took him.

Suppressing a small sigh, he tugged at the stocking that still held his
wrists bound, feeling the numbness that came of being tied for too long
beginning to set in.

"Hold still," Dana ordered, approaching him with another cloth, and he
lay there silently as she cleaned him off and pulled his nightshirt back
to his knees. "You look almost modest again," she said with a cold
smile, cocking her head to one side. "No one would know that earlier
this afternoon, you had revealed your body to my sister."

He gasped at her accusation. "But my lady, she was only--"

"I know what Melissa was doing," Dana interrupted smoothly. "She claims
her massages calm the belly, but in truth she only wanted to get her
hands on your pretty white flesh, and you allowed it, even with all your
virginal modesty. I have just demonstrated to you who is your mistress,
and I will do so as often as necessary until I know that you believe it
without a doubt."

"I wish no mistress but you, my lady!" he declared, tears beginning to
form in his wide eyes. "In truth, I would never dishonor you. Lady
Melissa told me she could help, and I--I--"

"You allowed her to touch you intimately."

He flushed, closing his eyes in shame at the memory.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Fox's eyes flew open, his neck
arching to look up at his still bound wrists.

"My lady, please," he beseeched. "I beg of you, release me. I do not
wish to be seen like this by the servants."

For a moment, he thought she would deny his request in order to further
punish him, but after a second her eyes softened almost imperceptibly,
and she untied the stocking with a flourish. Dana missed the look of
gratitude on her husband's face as she turned away to answer the door.

"My lady?"

She stared up at Alex Krycek.

"Yes?" she replied brusquely. "You should be abed, Alex."

"Will you be requiring my...services this evening?" he asked, and there
was no mistaking the suggestion in his tone. His shirt was open to the
waist, revealing a strong, well defined chest, and Dana felt desire wash
over her, even after her recent lovemaking with Fox.

"Perhaps another time," she told him, even as her mind returned to the
man that waited in her bed. Alex was beautiful, but Fox was even more
so, and she found his modesty and bashfulness preferable to the
overtures of the new maid. "You may retire."

"Yes, my lady," he said, and she was certain she heard blatant seduction
in his voice. "Some other night."

Before she could close the door fully, a firestorm erupted behind her
and Fox flew to the door, dodging her completely, and taking a swing at
an unsuspecting Alex.

He'd overheard the conversation, and on the heels of Dana's treatment of
him, it was simply more than he could bear. With a sound he later
realized shamefully had sounded almost like a growl of pure rage, he
knocked the hapless maid to the floor in a heap. Alex, taken by
surprise, did not try to defend himself at first, as Fox landed blow
after blow of his fists on the man's face and stomach.

Dimly, through his fury, Fox was aware of his Lady calling to him to
leave off, and of the sound of running footsteps approaching, but he was
beyond reason. He pummeled the pretty man mercilessly, receiving a few
good knocks from Alex's fists as well, but strengthened by his anger,
Fox had his opponent at a disadvantage.

Almost before the brawl had begun, Fox felt strong hands grasping him
and lifting him off Alex. Struggling furiously, completely out of
control, he continued throwing curses at the younger man while kicking
uselessly at the one who held him.

He did not calm himself until he realized Dana was standing before him,
a tiny package of redheaded rage. At last, her words began to sink
through his consciousness, and he perceived that he was in enormous
trouble.

"Fox Scully, you will STOP this disgrace this instant!" she thundered,
holding up one fist to his chin, and although he was fairly certain she
wouldn't actually throw a punch at him, Fox ceased his struggles
immediately. Gradually, taking in the scene, he realized that Walter was
the one holding him so firmly captive. Lady Maggie stood behind Dana,
and the corridor suddenly seemed full of servants. Apparently the entire
household had been summoned by the brawl.

"How dare you shame me in this manner?" Dana continued, disregarding the
presence of the others until her mother spoke.

"Daughter, what is this about?" demanded Maggie sternly. "We were ready
to retire for the evening when suddenly there appeared to be complete
mayhem!"

His eyes still spitting fire at Alex, Fox continued to glare at Alex,
his chest heaving with his panting breaths.

Dana stared at him for a long moment, ignoring her family, and the crowd
fell completely silent, except for the cooing sounds a couple of the
female servants were making over Alex as they tended his injuries.
Finally, stepping closer to him, she spoke.

"If you are going to act like a wild animal, you shall be treated as
one," she said deliberately. His eyes widened in fear as he looked at
her for the first time, and realized just what he had done. He felt the
breath leave his body all at once when she continued, "Roberta, Sarah,
take him to the dungeon and put a collar around his neck. Shackle him to
one of the rings in the wall. We shall see how this wild Fox takes to
being chained up like a dog."

His eyes could only see Isaac, naked and dying in the rain, as he numbly
allowed the servants to lead him away. Vaguely, still horrified at his
own behavior, he was aware of voices behind him, and he flinched when
Dana shouted again.

"Silence! I will not be told in my own home how I should deal with my
husband!"

"What have I done?" he moaned quietly to himself, his head bowed in
abject shame.

"Don't worry, my lord Fox," whispered Sarah as she and Roberta, flanked
by two more servants, led him down the stairs. "It isn't /really/ a
dungeon. Well, it used to be, years ago, but now it's merely an empty
room down cellar. All the torture devices are gone now."

Fox didn't know whether to be relieved or not--after all, Dana hadn't
mentioned torturing him, but she was more furious than he had ever seen
her. He wondered how long she would leave him chained in the dungeon.
Surely--surely she wouldn't leave him there to die, as Lady Fowley had
done with Isaac? Dana was angry, but she wasn't needlessly cruel. If she
was tired of him, and wished to take another to her bed, she would
simply have him relegated to another area of the mansion.

His eyes filled with tears at the sharp pain through his heart. The
thought of the new maid in his lady's bed was more painful than the idea
of being chained up like Isaac. And why? He had to ask himself what he
had been thinking, attacking Alex like that. After all, even if he did
not like the idea, it was his lady's privilege to take any man she wished.

Directly behind his confusion came anger, at himself, Alex and even
Dana. She had practically raped him to stake her claim, simply because
Lady Melissa had tried to help him, and yet when another man offered
himself to her, Fox was expected to sit idly by and do nothing? It was
not to be borne!

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and tried
desperately to block out the image of Dana, her head thrown back in that
animal way of hers, riding Alex with the tenderness and enthusiasm with
which she had taken him. She wouldn't. She simply wouldn't. Would she?

He barely noticed their descent, until they stood before a heavy iron
door. They had come down to a seldom-used area of the cellar, far from
the places where wine and food were stored, and Fox shivered. It was
very dark, and the smell was of mold and mustiness.

He watched, transfixed, as Roberta inserted a large key into the door,
turning it with some difficulty, and flinched at the creaking sound the
hinges made when the door was swung open.

The room was smaller than their bedchamber, and Fox could see, through
the dim light cast by the servants' torches, that there were iron rings
embedded in the walls at various intervals. One wall had rusty manacles
in four positions, and he shuddered as he realized that men must have
been fastened there, hanging uncomfortably, their feet well off the
floor, while untold tortures were inflicted upon their bodies. He could
almost feel the iron biting into his wrists as he imagined himself
there, perhaps being whipped, or possibly subjected to the hot coals or
branding irons that so many used to endure, back when torture of
disobedient men was a common occurrence. He realized, with a detached
clarity, that his father had possibly been subjected to it, and most
definitely his grandfathers. The practice was not that long in the past.

He barely noticed Sarah approaching him with the steel collar until she
slipped it around his neck, fastening it securely with a large lock. It
was heavy, and the reality of his situation was suddenly brought home to
him when a chain was attached to one of the rings, then to his collar.
He was an animal, chained away to be forgotten while his lady took
someone younger and prettier to amuse her.

"Please--please don't leave me here!" he begged, feeling the tears
beginning to slip down his face, but the servants ignored him,
retreating, their eyes downcast, for they, too, were shocked and
uncomfortable with the situation. None of them could remember a time
when a man had been imprisoned in the Scully dungeon, but they had all
heard tales of the old days.

"Please! Not in the dark! I can't stand the dark!" He fell to his knees
in desperation, and Roberta, the last to leave, turned back at his
pleading. The raw terror in his voice touched her, and with a glance at
the door to be sure they were alone, she placed the torch she carried in
a sconce on the wall.

"I don't know how long it will burn," she whispered, "but I'll bring
another when I come with your supper."

"I'm not hungry."

"But you have had nothing all day. Although it is quite late, my lady
will insist that you have a meal," she laughed. "I'm certain of it."

He nodded gratefully, and tried not to lose what remained of his
composure as the door clanged shut and the key scraped in the lock. So
he was to be fed, at least. How long would Dana leave him here? Would
one night be a sufficient punishment in her eyes, or--

He gasped aloud at the thought that she might never release him at all.
Perhaps the rest of his life was to be spent in this damp, cold room,
dependent upon the meals and whatever light he could beg from the
servants. He supposed he was lucky Dana hadn't simply given him over to
the servants, to be their resident toy, but who would stop them if they
chose to take advantage while he was here, helpless, and out of sight
and hearing of the rest of the household? Dana didn't want her sister
touching him, or another woman taking him to her bed, and yet she
tolerated the servants groping and touching him--indeed, when he'd been
in the stocks one particularly bold kitchen maid had even taken him in
her mouth!

It was all too confusing, and Fox slowly leaned back against the cold
wall, shivering as the chill penetrated his thin clothing. He was still
in the night clothes he'd been wearing, never having felt well enough to
bathe and dress that day. His feet were bare, and he shivered,
envisioning rats and spiders, wondering what type of creepy-crawlies
shared this dungeon with him.

Hopelessly, he pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around
them, and prayed that Dana would not forget he existed.



"Alex, you deserve to be flogged!"

"But--my lady--" His eyes widened in fear.

"I have no intention of taking you or anyone else to my bed," Dana
raged, "and you had no right to suggest as much. You forget your place.
You will endeavor to remember it in future."

"Yes, my lady," he whispered. "I am sorry."

"Clean my chamber immediately," she said coldly. "Perhaps, if you do a
satisfactory job, I shall forget to order that you be punished for your
insolence."

"Yes, my lady," Alex replied, humbled, and waited behind as Lady Dana
left the room, followed closely by Lady Maggie, Lady Melissa and Walter.
When he was alone, he glared about the room, which was in a terrible
mess. It was his job to clean it up, never mind the fact that Fox had
been the cause of most of the disarray.

"Never mind," he told himself as he righted a chair and began picking up
scattered articles from the table. "I will get my own on Lord Fox Scully
in due time. And meanwhile, I'll do my best to work my way into his
lady's good graces. And her bed."



"Dana, I do believe you were a bit harsh on Fox," Melissa objected as
they entered an upstairs salon. "He is Lord Scully the Younger, after
all, and is deserving of respect for his position. The servant was quite
forward."

"That is beside the point, Sister," Dana argued. "I will not have my
husband act in such a manner." Her eyes still flashed with anger,
although her manner was calm, and she noted with some amusement that
Walter kept his own head down, his attention focused firmly on his feet.

Feeling a bit of mischievousness, she questioned, "What do you think,
Walter? Was I too stern with Fox?"

He gulped and raised his head, carefully concealed panic in his eyes.
With Lady Dana's current state of mind, he feared one mis-step might
land him in the dungeon next to Fox. He only prayed that Maggie would
intervene in such an instance.

"I would not wish anyone to be in such a situation, my lady," he
answered at last, his tone conveying quiet dignity. "Fox, however, is
yours to do with as you please."

"Excellent response," Dana commented, ignoring the feeling of guilt that
nagged at her conscience. She refused to allow her mother and sister to
see the concern she was feeling for poor Fox, all alone down there in
that dark, cold dungeon. The last thing Dana wanted was to appear weak
in front of Melissa.

She wondered with a pang of compassion if Fox feared the darkness,
realizing how little she truly knew about her husband. Already she
regretted her hasty actions, but to withdraw the punishment now would
lessen her stature in the eyes of her family, the servants, and worst of
all, Fox himself. She could, however, reduce the length of his sentence
down below. After all, she had told no one that her initial intention
had been to leave him there for at least a week. Now--well, perhaps
three days would be sufficient.



Once Alex had completed restoring her chamber to rights, Dana dismissed
him curtly and paced the bedroom floor, wondering at herself and her
harshness. It was unlike her to be so cruel, meting out a punishment far
in excess of what had actually been earned. It puzzled her, that she had
reacted so strongly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another knock at the door, this one
tentative and soft. Dana swore angrily under her breath, convinced that
if it was another servant offering himself to her, she would have the
silly ass flogged at once.

Instead, she was taken aback to see her step-father standing outside her
chamber, his face calm and impassive.

"Yes, Walter?"

"My lady, I should like your permission to go to Fox," he said gravely.
"I'm certain he must be overly frightened, and if you would permit me, I
should like to reassure him."

She stared at him, surprised at his unexpected show of compassion toward
her husband, and quickly realized that it would be a way of softening
the blow to poor Fox without appearing to capitulate.

"Does Mother know you are here?" she asked suspiciously.

Walter looked shocked at her question. "But of course, my lady!"

"Yes, you may go to him," she allowed at last. "But you are not to
release him."

"Thank you, my lady," he replied quietly, and turned to go.

"Walter," she said hurriedly, holding out her hand for him to wait.
Opening a chest beside the bed, she withdrew an old but comfortable
quilt. "Give him this. I'm certain he's cold."

He stared at her for a moment, as if not believing her generosity, then
took the quilt with a smile. "Thank you, my lady," he said again, and
turned to go.

"Walter."

He turned back, and she stood indecisively for a moment, then pushed on.
"You needn't mention the quilt came from me."

He inclined his head gracefully and left her.

Later, climbing into her bed, missing his strong arms and the sweetness
of his company, she reconsidered. Three days was also three nights, and
she had no wish to spend three nights alone. Since she had no desire for
any other man at this time, she told herself, perhaps one night would be
enough to get the message through to Fox that she was not to be trifled
with. Yes, he was a bright young man. Surely one night in the dungeon
would be sufficient. She was of half a mind to go and get him now,
telling him that she wished his company, but quickly rejected the idea.
He did deserve punishment, and to appear weak was a crime of the largest
magnitude in the eyes of a Scully woman. Fox would remain downstairs
tonight, and she would release him just after lunch.

Or maybe breakfast.



Fox expected Sarah would be the one to bring his supper, but instead,
Walter appeared carrying a small loaf of bread and a trencher of water,
a quilt flung over his shoulder.

He gazed up at Walter with wide, hurt eyes when he opened the door, and
Walter's glance immediately went to the torch in the sconce, burned
almost to nothingness by now.

"Please don't take it away," he implored, hugging his knees tightly to
himself.

"Of course I won't," Walter replied, settling the quilt around the
younger man's shoulders.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, accepting the bread and water. "Have
you an idea when I am to be released?"

Walter shook his head. "I do not know. Lady Dana is fearsome angry."

"She was right to anger," Fox said softly. "I should not have attacked
the new maid."

Walter's jaw tightened momentarily. "A decent man whould not have baited
you so. And Dana was too harsh, but that is her right as your lady."

Fox nodded, eyes downcast, and Walter raised an eyebrow.

"Why did you attack him?" he asked curiously.

Fox flushed, chewing a mouthful of bread. "I was...taken aback," he
finally confessed. "And he offered himself to Dana without shame or
hesitation! He was very attractive, and I--I feared my lady would find
his company preferable to mine."

"Some would say he did nothing wrong," Walter observed.

"And what do you say, Walter?"

Walter sighed. "As difficult as it may be for you to accept, Fox, many
people would agree that he was right to offer his services to Lady Dana
while you are ailing."

"Perhaps," Fox argued, rebellion flashing in his eyes, "but he was rude
to do it so blatantly, and in my very presence. I may be only a man,
Walter, but I am still Lord Scully, and as such outrank a mere male
servant in status."

"It was unkind," Walter agreed, "and Lady Melissa said as much. However,
it is your lady's decision to take another man to her bed, not yours.
Perhaps when you're better, she would like to have two such pretty men
in her bed at once."

Fox stared at Walter, horror in his eyes, and the older Lord Scully's
impish grin faded. "Fear not, Fox. I was merely teasing you. I think
Lady Dana is more caring of your feelings than you suspect."

With that, Walter took his leave, and Fox swallowed another few bites of
the bread before his appetite fled. He snuggled gratefully into the warm
quilt, wondering if Dana knew Walter had brought it to him. He hoped
Walter didn't suffer for his kindness.

He leaned against the wall, taking deep, slow breaths, and occasionally
sipping a bit of the water, as his mind continued to replay the events
of the evening. Eventually, remembering his own behavior, Fox grew hot
with shame.

He had acted like a common, ragged street urchin, he realized with
remorse, not a well-bred man of the nobility. He had shamed both his
wife and his mother with his actions. As unfair as the world might be,
it was most assuredly his lady's right to take her pleasure with Alex
Krycek if she chose. Fox was at a loss as to why his heart felt rent in
two at the idea of Dana lying naked in Alex's arms, her soft hair
caressing his stomach, her mouth wrapped around his manhood, pleasuring
him in ways that made Fox scream with passion.

Tortured by the images in his imagination, Fox curled into as tight a
ball as he could manage, cradling his head in the crook of one arm, and
finally, shivering, fell into a troubled sleep.



"I wish to die now," Fox moaned, squinting when the door opened and
Sarah's torch lit the now pitch-black room. The torch from the previous
evening had long since burnt out, but Fox had been unaware, deep in his
nightmares, and it was the nausea that had jarred him awake.

His sickness had returned during the night, exacerbated by the musty
smell of the dungeon. He had retched a time or two but his stomach had
been completely empty by then, and nothing had emerged but a few drops
of bile. Exhausted by the effort, Fox had collapsed, resting his cheek
against the cold floor, and had been almost uncaring when the door swung
open.

Sarah carried a tray with a real breakfast this time, not just bread and
water, and she expected Lord Fox to be pleased. His reaction surprised her.

"Take it away!" he begged, covering his nose to block out the smell of
the tasty porridge. "Please. I wish no food."

Smiling sympathetically at his condition, Sarah deposited the porridge
outside the door, then replaced the torch and helped Fox to a sitting
position.

"There now, my lord, you're not going to die," she soothed, rubbing his
trembling hands.

"I just want to feel well again, and to get warm," he complained. "And I
want out of here," he added petulantly.

"Well, my lady is fond of you," she comforted. "I would not be surprised
if this is your last day in the dungeon."

"Fond of me?" he asked eagerly, showing more animation than she
expected. "Do--do you really believe she is?"

Sarah smiled again. "Of course she is, my lord. Who could know you and
not care for you?"

He stared at her uncertainly. "You don't mean that you--"

"Oh no, of course not," she laughed. "Although naturally, as Lord
Scully, I have a duty to see to your well-being."

"Thank you," he replied faintly.

"There, now, what is the matter?"

Fox fidgeted for a moment, twisting his fingers together nervously,
before finally blurting out his worst fear.

"Did my lady take that--that man to her bed last night?" he demanded
anxiously. "Please, Sarah, tell me the truth!"

It was Sara's turn to stare. "Why my lord Fox," she breathed. "One might
think you've fallen in love with her!"

"That is nonsense!" he snapped. "We barely know one another. And
besides, how could I love someone who would imprison me in this dungeon
for no more crime than correcting a servant? A male one, at that!"

He was so absorbed in his denial that he barely heard Natalie reassuring
him that it was perfectly normal that he should fall in love with his
lady, that it was to be expected, that it was an honor to Lady Dana to
have her husband care for her.

At last, offering him the food once more and being soundly refused,
Sarah took her leave and Fox was able to examine his own feelings more
closely. At first he firmly denied to himself that what he felt for his
lady wife was any more than mere affection, and gratitude that she had,
for the most part, been kind to him.

After all, she had protected him from Lady Fowley, she had refused to
take Samantha away from him, and she had ways of making him scream with
pleasure that caused him to blush at the thought, even here alone in
this dungeon room.

On the other hand, her voice was pure sweetness to him--at least when it
was not raised in anger. Her smile was more effective than sunshine at
brightening his day. Her skin was as soft as the finest silk, and her
laughter--

Fox sighed, and buried his head in his hands. Could it be true, then?
Had he fallen in love with his wife, a woman who felt nothing more than
desire and fondness for him, and who, at this moment, was furiously
angry with him?

He felt shame wash over him yet again at the memory of his behavior. In
spite of his protests to Walter and Sarah, Fox knew his actions bespoke
a childhood spent in the gutter, not the gentle rearing and teaching
which he had known. If he had voiced his objections to Dana, alone in
the privacy of their chamber, perhaps she would have reassured him that
she would never abandon him, never banish him from her bed in favor of a
prettier man. Instead, he had spent the night here, tormented by the
images of Alex in her bed, pleasing her. Alex was probably no virgin, he
thought sadly. He would know a multitude of ways to please a lady, ways
which would make Fox cringe with embarrassment.

But what could he do? Had he burned his bridges behind him? Would Dana
ever forgive him his impulsive behavior?

Raising his head proudly, Fox stared straight ahead. He was Fox Mulder
Scully, Lord Scully the Younger, and until his lady removed him from her
household, he had a position to maintain.

He would change his ways, he vowed. He would put aside the reckless ways
that had been a part of his character since boyhood and become a model
husband. His conduct would be above reproach in every way,
starting--well, starting when Dana let him out of this prison.

And then maybe, if he was good enough, perhaps she would learn to care
for him as more than a simple possession. He didn't dare hope that she
would come to love him, but perhaps she would regard him in greater esteem.

The answer was plain. He would simply have to be perfect.

End chapter 6



After Sarah had taken away the wretched breakfast he'd fallen asleep
again, huddled against the cold wall, wrapped in the quilt, but was
jarred into wakefulness when the door creaked open. Fox squinted in the
dimness, but even without sufficient light he was able to make out
Dana's familiar form.

Silently he awaited her condemnation. Had she come to gloat at his
position? To tell him that his incarceration was permanent? Or did she
intend to describe to him in great detail everything she had done with
Alex Krycek the night before? Whatever she did, Fox knew he must control
his reactions very carefully. If he ever wanted to see the light of day
again, he must win her approval so that she would release him from this
dungeon, and if he ever hoped to gain her affection, he must prove to
her that no man could serve her needs better than he.

"Well, Fox," she asked in a voice that he was unable to read. "Did your
night spent below fulfill its purpose?"

Fox wasn't certain what the purpose of sending him to this prison had
been, other than to serve as a release for her anger, but he knew what
he must do. He moved away from the wall, into a kneeling position, his
head respectfully bowed.

"My lady," he whispered. "Please allow me to beg your forgiveness for my
actions."

It was the last thing she'd expected to hear from him, and Dana was
momentarily taken aback. Quickly regaining her composure, she knelt
beside him, stroking her hands through the dark hair that covered his
bowed head. He chanced a glance up at her touch, then dropped his eyes
again in contrition.

"It is forgotten, Fox," she told him gently, raising his chin so he was
forced to meet her gaze.

He closed his eyes to escape her look, but opened them again when she
kissed him softly on the lips. "My lady?" he questioned, and she gave
him a tender smile.

"I do not wish to be forced to punish you this harshly again. I would
appreciate it if you would strive to moderate your behavior in the
future, as is appropriate for a man of your position."

He nodded miserably. "I will not disgrace you again, my lady, I give my
word."

"Sarah says you were sick again before breakfast," she replied, changing
the subject abruptly.

"I am well enough now," he told her eagerly, hoping that her altered
tone meant he was truly forgiven. "I haven't been ill in hours."

"Are you certain?" she asked, examining him in the dim light with a
critical eye. "You are not making light of your sickness, in order to
gain my approval? I do not enjoy being lied to, Fox."

"No, my lady, I am much better, I swear it."

"I am glad to hear it," she replied, her voice softening. I missed you
last night, sweeting. Perhaps in the future, you will also manage to
keep yourself in my bed where you belong."

He smiled wanly. She'd missed him, truly? "Does my lady intend to
release me?" he asked hopefully.

"Indeed I do." Reaching into her pocket, Dana withdrew a large key,
which she then fitted into the lock of his collar. The steel band fell
from his neck to the floor with a clatter, and Fox shuddered at the
coldness of the sound. He never wanted to feel such a thing around his
neck again.

"Thank you, Dana," he said quietly, and she smiled again.

Dana helped Fox to his feet and led him carefully up the stairs, mindful
of his balance on the treacherous stone steps. They made their way to
their chamber, and Fox was grateful that they completed the journey
without meeting up with any of the servants. To have them view his
release was almost as bad has having them witness his incarceration. He
simply wished the matter to be forgotten as quickly as possible. It was
truly the most humiliating punishment he had ever been forced to endure.

She assisted him in removing the now-filthy nightshirt in which he'd
slept, then settled him in the tub, which was still filled with
comfortably warm water, and rang for a meal. Fox cleaned himself in
haste, hoping to be fully dressed by the time their chamber was invaded
by the staff, but he was just rinsing the soap from his hair when the
knock sounded at the door. He sank shyly into the deep tub, praying the
servants would disperse immediately.

"Alex, why are you bringing the tray?" he heard Lady Dana ask, and
clenched his jaw, suppressing his immediate flash of anger. Perfect, he
must be a perfect husband, he reminded himself anxiously.

"Sarah was busy with a crisis in the kitchen, my lady," Alex replied,
setting the tray down on a small table.

"A crisis?" Fox popped his head over the top of the tub to ask. Any
kitchen crisis was his domain, one that the perfect husband would deal
with instantly, in order not to trouble his lady. "What kind of crisis?"

"Ah..it was nothing, Lord Fox," Alex stammered, surprised at seeing his
attacker naked in the bathing tub. "I would have summoned Lord Walter,
since you were...unavailable...but it appeared Lady Maggie had need of
him at the time. It has been dealt with to the satisfaction of Natalie,
the chef. No doubt she will give you all the details when you come
downstairs."

"Fox will not be coming down today, he must remain in bed to recover
fully from his illness," Dana interceded.

"My lady, I'm fine."

"Do not naysay me, husband."

Fox dropped his eyes in defeat. He had displeased her again. "I am
sorry, my lady."

"Perhaps you would like to take this opportunity to apologize to Alex
for your behavior yesterday?" she continued, and Fox sighed quietly,
knowing it wasn't really a request.

"I am sorry for striking you, Alex," he said, mustering as much
sincerity as his stomach would allow. "It was quite ill-bred of me."

"Think nothing of it," Alex told him, giving Lord Scully a little smile.
"Many times noblemen are bored with their lives, and highly strung. I
wish only to serve."

Fox bit his tongue at the "bored noblemen" remark, not wanting to
further irritate Dana. He had no intention of allowing Alex's brand of
"service," but for the sake of his marriage he must present a pleasant
front, so he nodded politely and waited while the young maid took his
leave. When he thought his wife could not see, he shot a face, sticking
out his tongue at the retreating man's back much as he had done when
still a child. Dana snickered and he flushed, wondering miserably if he
was about to be punished yet again.

"I do not believe you are sincere in your apology, but it was quite
nicely done," she told him with wry amusement. "Now, put on a nightshirt
and come to the table. I wish to see you eat a decent meal. Sarah says
you have eaten nothing since yesterday."

"I had some bread last night."

She shook her head quickly. "Three small bites of bread does not
constitute a meal, Fox. I realize you are still feeling ill, but you
must take in enough nourishment to sustain your body."

He picked at the cheese on the tray, managing a few small bites, but his
appetite was gone. Fox wondered if Dana would take him to her bed this
morning, or if she would simply leave him to go about his daily duties.
He refused to admit to himself how much he /*wanted*/ her to make love
to him. That was simply too embarrassing to acknowledge.

"Tell me, Fox, why did you attack Alex like that?"

The question startled him, and he prayed the look in his eyes hadn't
revealed his feelings before he was able to guard them.

"I--I am not certain, my lady," he lied. "It was as you said. I was not
myself."

"There was nothing more to it than that?" she asked with a twinkle in
her eye. Reaching out a hand, she stroked his long, elegant fingers
resting on the table. "You were not jealous at his offer to warm my bed
while you are ill?"

Fox put down his slice of bread and cheese, feeling suddenly desolate.
He thought he'd banished those images, but here they were again, as
large as life.

"I should not like to see you take another to your bed," he said at
last, staring at the fingers which caressed his own. "It is my place, as
your husband, to share that intimacy with you."

"And is it not my right as a Lady of the Nobility to take a lover if I
choose?"

Fox swallowed the suddenly huge lump in his throat and blinked back his
tears. "Indeed, it is your right, my lady," he said formally. "Perhaps
if you choose to do so, you would be good enough to inform me in
advance, so that I may seek out another chamber on that night?"

"I shall do that which pleases me," she said gruffly. "And you, my
little Fox, will remain in my chamber and in my bed, where you belong."

"Did you?" Fox could have kicked himself for not holding back the words,
but they were out before he was even aware he was thinking them.

"Did I what?"

His hands clenched tightly in his lap, he waited until his breathing was
under control to ask tightly, "Did you take him to your bed last night?"

She regarded him coolly for a moment, then rose deliberately from her
chair.

"Your place is not to question my behavior," she told him arrogantly.

Fox bit back an angry retort as she made for the chamber door, leaving
him sitting with his still uneaten meal before him. Reminding himself
that if he ever hoped to win her affection he must be perfect, he placed
his hands demurely in his lap and studied the tabletop silently.

Throwing open the door, she turned. "We are having guests come to stay
with us," she informed him casually. "Lady Suzanne Modeski and her
husband John. They will remain here for a week."

Fox stared at her for a moment, startled at the abrupt change in
subject, his eyes wide at the implications of her announcement.
Instantly, out of simple habit, he began mentally threshing over all the
preparations that must be made.

"When will they arrive?" he asked, his thoughts already busy with menu
plans and sleeping arrangements. "Have you an idea how many servants
they will bring?"

"The will be here in two days time." She waved her hand dismissively as
she exited the room. "As to sleeping arrangements, Lady Suzanne prefers
the Blue Chamber for herself and John. You will have to arrange for the
servants once they arrive, as I have no idea as to their numbers."

She turned to go, then swung back again. "Preparing for their visit
should allow you to occupy your time properly, rather than in concerning
yourself with things that are none of your business."

She was gone before he could protest, and he stared after her in shock.
Two days? Only forty-eight hours to prepare for a week of entertaining?
Hastily he dressed, intending to make his way down the stairs and begin
at once. He was halfway down the corridor of the East Wing before he
remembered her command to remain abed today. He sighed heavily and
turned back toward their chamber. The perfect husband would obey his
wife in all things, he reminded himself sternly, regardless of how
inconvenient her orders might be. The perfect husband would also make
certain his lady's home was in excellent condition to receive guests.
Fox pondered the dilemma for a few moments. How was he to prepare for
guests when he was trapped in his bedchamber?

With a silent curse, he turned at last and trudged back to the chamber.
He was uncertain how the tasks would be accomplished, but he knew he
could not risk bringing her wrath down upon him again so soon. He
supposed he could go over the menus with Natalie from his bed, and there
was no reason, he mused, why he couldn't ask Walter to direct the
servants today. He simply must be well enough tomorrow to be allowed
downstairs, though, he thought mutinously. Dana couldn't expect him to
do all the preparations from his bed.

Fuming, Fox undressed and slipped back into his nightshirt. He jerked
angrily at the bell cord before climbing obediently into bed. He had no
wish to see the uppity maid yet again, but he knew there was no choice
if he was to remain in the bed chamber all day.



"Enter," he called, settling himself against the large headboard with a
pillow for padding.

"You rang for me, my lord?" asked Alex a bit sullenly, poking his head
into the room. He glanced around, as if searching for Dana, and when he
did not see her, entered the room fully.

Fox swallowed his dislike of the man and reminded himself that he had a
position to maintain. He must not disgrace Dana further.

"Send Natalie to me as soon as her luncheon preparations are under
control," he ordered Alex. "And bring me some writing paper and a pen."

Alex nodded and disappeared, returning shortly with several sheets of
paper, a pen and a lap-desk. Fox thanked him absently, his mind full of
possible menus and preparations that must be made. He waved an offhanded
dismissal to Alex, already beginning to scribble down notes, but called
to the servant just before he made his escape.

"Alex, tell Lord Walter I would like to see him, if he has a free
moment," Fox instructed, not even looking up from his papers.

"Just you wait, my fine lord," Alex muttered under his breath, seething
quietly as he left the room. "Not long now until I have you firmly
beneath my thumb."

By the time Walter arrived, Fox had made a list of tasks that needed to
be accomplished that day, and another list of things to be done on the
morrow, provided he was able to supervise. Walter had his own duties on
the estate, and could not put them on hold indefinitely simply because
Fox was unable to fulfill his role.

"Alex said you wished to see me?" Walter asked, after he was bidden
enter the room.

"Yes, Walter, please sit down," Fox said, indicating a chair, and Walter
realized with quiet satisfaction that very little remained of the beaten
man he had seen in the dungeon the night before.

"My lady has informed me that we are to have guests--a Lady Modeski and
her husband..." Fox cast desperately about his memory for the name of
Lord Modeski.

"John," Walter supplied helpfully.

"Yes," Fox agreed, relieved. "Do you know them?"

"I have met them--they visited when Lady Maggie and I were married. They
are very nice people. You will like John, I believe. He is near your
age, with a well-defined sense of humor. The relationship between the
two of them is...odd."

Fox perked up, his curiosity aroused. "Odd?" he questioned. "Odd how?"

Walter sat in silence for a few moments, wondering how best to explain
the unusual camaraderie between John and Lady Suzanne.

"She...treats him differently," he offered at last. "Almost as an equal.
And the servants are never allowed to touch John, not even in jest."

Fox's jaw dropped and he stared at Walter as if the other man had gone
mad. "An equal?" he asked skeptically. "A husband? How can that be?"

Walter shrugged. "I do believe the lady is in love with her husband," he
commented.

Fox felt his heart soar at the words. A lady could love her husband,
then! Surely, in that case, it was possible for Dana to someday come to
genuinely care, perhaps even to love him as well. He would do all in his
power to make it so, he vowed silently, and with renewed determination,
turned his attention to the task at hand.

"Lady Dana insists that I remain in bed this day to recover from my
illness," he told Walter, and Walter nodded, suddenly understanding.
"They are to arrive in two days' time."

Walter raised a surprised eyebrow at the shortness of time. "We haven't
a moment to lose in preparation!"

"Exactly," Fox agreed. "I have written out a list of things the servants
should accomplish today, but I am unable to assist or supervise. Do you
think perhaps you could..."

"Say no more, Fox," Walter nodded, taking papers the younger man
offered. "The estate's accounts are in excellent condition, and now that
you are here as Lady Dana's husband, I have little to do in the way of
running the household. I can devote my attention to preparations for our
guests for the next two days. Just keep me informed as to what you would
like me to do."

"Thank you, Walter," Fox said gratefully, clutching at his friend's hand
for a moment. "And...thank you also for coming to me last night. I do
hope you didn't get into any trouble?"

Walter laughed. "Indeed no. I requested permission from both Lady Maggie
and Lady Dana before I came to you."

Fox's eyes widened. "Did she know you brought me bread, and a quilt?" he
questioned.

Walter hesitated, remembering Dana's direction not to tell Fox she had
sent the quilt. "She knew," he said at last.

The smile on Fox's face could have lit up an entire room, and Walter
wondered once again if there was more to their relationship than he was
seeing.

"In any instance, I thank you. And now, let us prepare for our guests."

Walter nodded and left the chamber, pondering the odd behavior of the
younger Lord Scully. Could it be he had come to care for his lady
already? It would be unusual for a man to fall in love with his wife so
quickly, but Walter had learned enough already to know that Fox never
did things by halves.

He smiled as this opinion was reinforced by the sight of Natalie
entering the East Wing, a book of the Scully family's favorite recipes
tucked under her arm. Natalie nodded pleasantly at him before tapping at
the Mistress' bedchamber door. Fox might remain abed today, but he would
most certainly not be resting, Walter told himself with a quiet laugh.



Dana entered the mansion wearily, dropping her riding gloves and crop to
the floor, barely noticing when Ethan, one of the house boys, scurried
to put them away. It had been a hellish day, compounded by the
inadequacy of the notes she had written up for her cases on the night
Fox had earned his harsh punishment. Rubbing her eyes in exhaustion, she
swore never to combine brandy and work again.

Grumpily, Dana decided to blame the entire situation on Melissa. She had
brought home that barrel of Josephine brandy from France, after all.
Melissa knew that Dana had fallen in love with the expensive liquor
during her army days, and she always brought some as a gift for her
sister. For a hateful second, she wondered how long they would be forced
to extend Melissa their hospitality, and was instantly filled with
guilt. Melissa was a good sister, she reminded herself. It was not her
fault that she was attracted to Fox--any woman would be.

Just as she let the thought go, forcing herself to take deep, calming
breaths, the object of her irritation entered the great hall.

"Dana," Melissa smiled. "It's good to see you. Sit down, you look tired.
I'll ring for refreshment for you."

"No, thank you," Dana replied evenly, training her gaze firmly on her
sister's left shoulder. "I must take myself upstairs and see to my
husband. Is he perhaps well enough to join the family for dinner?"

"I have not seen Fox today."

"Not at all?" Dana asked, attempting to mask her irritability with
teasing. "No idle strolls in the garden?" She had seen the tender
gallantry with which her sister had treated Fox, as well as his
predictable response to it, and found it difficult to believe that
Melissa had stayed away from him for an entire day.

"He has remained in his bed throughout the day, as you ordered, Sister,"
Melissa answered in a slightly puzzled voice. "Indeed, I do not believe
he has done anything at all today that would try your patience in the
least."

Dana ignored the twinkling in Melissa's eyes, and with a curt nod, took
her leave. Fox was willful and spirited--at least he was most of the
time. It seemed too much to accept that he had remained abed as she had
commanded. Indeed, she almost hoped he had not. Although Dana hated to
admit it to herself, she secretly cherished the battle of wills in which
they engaged, and found disciplining her beautiful husband exciting in
the extreme. She had always been bored with the perfectly behaved men
that mothers paraded before eligible women. To find herself married to
such a man would have been unbearable.

She made her way to the East Wing quickly, pushing open the heavy doors
and striding determinedly toward her chamber, when she was accosted from
the salon by the voice of her newest employee.

"My lady Dana," Alex called to her, and the familiarity with which he
used her name grated on her already frayed nerves.

"Yes, Alex, what is it?" she asked brusquely.

"I understand poor Lord Fox is still ailing," he said with just the hint
of a smile playing about his lovely mouth as he licked his lips
suggestively. "I wanted to remind you that I am available for any
extra...services you might require of me."

Two pairs of eyes stared at one another for a long moment, one green and
inviting, one icy blue, until Dana moved to pull the cord that summoned
a servant from downstairs. Just for good measure, to demonstrate her
displeasure, she gave it an extra tug, and within seconds several pairs
of feet were heard clattering down the corridor.

"My lady, is something wrong?" Sarah asked anxiously, peering into the
salon, flanked by Roberta and Alice, the butler's assistant.

"Yes," Dana replied tersely. "Young Alex has earned himself a most
severe punishment for overstepping his place yet again. Take him
downstairs to the whipping post and give him ten lashes with a switch,
Sarah. Then you ladies may take your will of him for the evening. Make
certain that he is well used before and behind. See that he does not
have any further desire to make impertinent suggestions to me."

"What?" gasped Alex, panicking at the eagerness the three female
servants displayed. They immediately accosted him, dragging him forcibly
from the room. "You can't do this!" he cried desperately, jerking away
from the hands that clutched him and falling to his knees.

Dana roughly grasped a fistful of his hair and forced him to look up at
her.

"You signed a lifetime contract with me, Alex," she reminded him evenly.
"Indeed I can do this, and much worse, should I so choose. I advise you
not to try my patience further."

She released his hair and her eyes sought out Sarah.

"On your way outside, arrange for bath water to be brought to me," she
ordered casually

Ignoring Alex's further protests as he was hauled toward the stairs,
Dana entered her bed chamber. Her husband lay stretched out on the bed,
his chest slowly rising and falling as he slept, his hand still loosely
holding a pen, papers scattered beside him. She crept closer, and saw
that he had been working on the week's menu plans, no doubt in
anticipation of their guests. Smiling with affection, pleased at his
devotion to running her household, she carefully removed the pen from
his hand, trying not to disturb him, but Fox awakened at her touch.

"My lady," he whispered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I missed you."

She smiled wider, and he blushed, embarrassed at his forward manner of
speech, and yet held her gaze steadily, for his words had been sincere.

"I missed you as well, my Fox," she said softly, caressing his smooth
cheek. "My day has been long and tiring."

He placed his hand upon the one stroking his face, relishing her touch
after the many hours apart.

"If my lady will allow me to get out of bed, I will order you a relaxing
bath," he offered, eyes downcast shyly.

"How are you feeling?" she inquired. "Your color seems to have returned."

"I do believe I am fully recovered," he told her. "I have not sickened
again today, and I am dreadfully tired of looking at the ceiling!"

"But you have been looking at other things as well," she contradicted,
picking up the quill and lightly tickling his nose with it.

"I--wanted to make certain all was in readiness for Lady and Lord
Modeski," he told her earnestly. "I followed your command and remained
abed, I swear it, Dana!"

"So I have heard," she smiled. "And that is why I shall reward you now.
I should like that bath, and later, after supper, I will take you for a
walk in the gardens."

"Oh yes, my lady, please!" he agreed, sliding to the edge of the bed in
preparation to rise. As he did so, the hem of his nightshirt slipped up,
revealing a well-defined hip, and Dana felt her lust stir in spite of
her fatigue.

Before Fox could stand, she placed her hands on his shoulders and
claimed him with a deep, thorough kiss that went on and on. His fingers,
of their own accord, slid up her arms and caressed her back, and she was
dimly aware, through her passion, that it was the first time Fox had
touched her without asking permission. She smiled to herself as she
continued to plunder his mouth. While no proper noblewoman wanted a
husband who took liberties, somehow she found herself enjoying the warm
touch of his hands on her back. She decided she would allow it without
reprimand.

Fox had lost himself in her scent and her kiss, but suddenly remembered
the expected behavior from a perfect husband, and guiltily dropped his
hands.

"Why did you stop?" she asked gently. "I liked what you were doing. It
was quite pleasing. You may touch me again, Fox."

Looking as if she had handed him a great gift, he returned his hands
almost reverently to her back, caressing her neck, shoulders, and
sliding his fingers through her hair while she nipped playfully at his
lips, throat and ears, then returned to deeply kissing his mouth until
they were both panting with need.

Regretfully, knowing she was in no condition to give him the attention
she wanted to devote to his lovely body, she rose and backed away, and
he groaned in frustration.

"We'll finish this later, sweeting, when I am able to take you
properly," she promised, giving his behind an affectionate pat. "For
now, I must relax and restore my good humor."

"My lady seems in good enough spirits," he teased, but she shook her
head slightly.

"It is all because of taking your sweet mouth, I assure you, husband.
Before I entered the room, I was in a foul temper indeed."

"Was I responsible for your temper?" he asked anxiously, and she
laughed, moving behind the screen to begin disrobing.

"Not at all, for a change," she called. "It was actually one of the
servants."

Fox straightened, feeling guilty that he had been in his bed rather than
attending to the servants, as his position dictated.

"Who has displeased you, my lady?" he asked immediately. "I will--"

"I have already dealt with the matter, Fox, you needn't concern
yourself," she replied, returning to him dressed in the midnight blue
robe that he found so attractive.

He moistened his lips unconsciously, taking in the sight of her, looking
slightly rumpled and totally delectable, and was disappointed when the
servants knocked at the door. 'Later,' she had said, and he intended to
do all in his power to be certain she kept that promise.



"What is happening?" Maggie demanded, hearing the ruckus as Alex was
dragged downstairs by Sarah, Roberta and Alice, soon to be joined by
several of the other servants. "Roberta, explain!"

"Lady Dana has given us a treat, my lady," Roberta informed her, letting
go her grip on Alex's arm and finding it instantly replaced by another
eager female. "The new servant is to be punished, and then he is ours
for the evening."

Lady Maggie raised an eyebrow, in a remarkable imitation of her youngest
daughter. "What did he do to earn such a punishment?"

"My lady, I did nothing wrong!" Alex cried, struggling against the hands
that held him captive. "Please, make them release me!"

"He offered himself to Lady Dana again," Sarah replied, ignoring Alex's
struggles and pleas.

Lady Maggie sighed. "Dana was quite specific in that regard, Alex," she
answered him. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do for you."

Any further protest he made was drowned out by the giggling, squealing
females as they dragged him out the door toward the rear courtyard.

Alex struggled fruitlessly as the women stripped him naked.

"Bind his hands behind his back," Roberta commanded, and another maid
instantly obeyed. Alex continued to plead and fight as her next orders
were quickly issued:

"Sarah, go to the stable and ask Miss Phoebe for the salve she uses on
the ponies, and that gaited whip Lady Dana carries when she rides her
saddle horse. Bessie, go to my chamber and fetch the black leather case
in the trunk at the foot of my bed. Amanda, fetch me some of the small
clothing pins we use when hanging up my lady's lingerie."

Alex's heart raced as he remembered some of the stories he'd already
heard about Roberta--the stories of her sexual antics were legendary on
the Scully estate. She was a big woman, strong and competent, who had
already had three husbands, plus numerous lovers. He bit his lip in
fear, wondering what was to become of him, and if he would emerge alive
from the ordeal.

"Throw him down on his back over that wide bench," Roberta ordered the
three women holding him, and they hastened to obey. Only one of them,
the youngest, Mary Ellen, questioned.

"But Lady Dana said he was to be lashed and punished, ma'am," she
objected respectfully. Mary Ellen did not want to disobey Lady Dana, but
she certainly did not want to attain less-than-favored status with
Roberta, who informally commanded all the servants on the estate.

At Mary Ellen's concern, Roberta threw back her head and laughed
heartily. "Oh, he will be, my dear. He'll never forget this night. And
he'll think long and hard before he offends a lady of the Nobility
again. Watch and learn, so that you may discipline other impertinent men
when necessary."

By this time, Sarah had returned carrying a small jar and a short
carriage whip. Roberta unscrewed the top and sniffed the pungent mixture
as Bessie emerged from the servant's quarters.

"Excellent, my dears. Now mind you, follow my directions very carefully.
Sarah and Nancy, you grab his feet and pull them back over his
shoulders. Spread him out. I want to see that fine ass and that arrogant
cock for myself."

Alex was pinned helplessly as his legs were pressed up against his chest
and held there by two very determined women. His bare bottom was exposed
to the butler's lustful gaze and roaming hands as he begged for sympathy.

"The first thing to do," Roberta instructed those women gathered around,
"is to make sure that his pretty manhood is up and ready to service us
as often as we wish it this evening. Mary Ellen, you start sucking on
it, and Rachel, I want that ribbon from your blouse."

Mary Ellen immediately picked up the rather large, although still limp
penis, and began licking and nibbling. Alex moaned as he felt his
arousal begin.

"Now, you let me know when he's good and hard," Roberta told her. "He's
not to have his release tonight and spoil our fun."

Alex bit his lip hard, willing himself to remain silent as Mary Ellen
sucked him deeply into her warm mouth. As she nipped at the underside of
his penis, he felt the first trickle of pre-come emerge from the
engorged head.

"I believe he's ready, Miss Roberta," Mary Ellen said, a little in awe
at the results of her efforts. Roberta nodded in satisfaction. He was
certainly a fine size for a man, and should bring a great deal of
pleasure this evening.

"The next step is to secure his manhood," Roberta continued. "You tie a
ribbon, or a strip of leather, around the base of this big, fine cock,
then slip some extra loops around his balls. He'll be staying hard and
pleasurable for hours." If any of the women were surprised by her crude
language, it did not show on their faces. They gave her their rapt
attention, as if they were listening to an important lecture at University.

Alex moaned again as he heard her unsnap the leather case. "Now this,
ladies, is one of the finest implements you will ever find for
disciplining a stubborn man."

He heard the giggles as she continued, "Note that it begins narrow, and
is nice and wide in the middle. Plus, it has this little hand pull on
the end. He cannot push it out, if you insert it proper like."

At that, Alex began swearing and struggling against his captors like a
man possessed--he was unable to see what Roberta held in her hand, but
he knew what it had to be.

"You girls hold him down nice and tight, now. To make it more effective,
I'm going to rub a little of this tail set ginger on it, and on his
tight little hole, as well. 'Tis that salve we use on those hackney
ponies to make them carry their tails up and step lively when they pull
my lady's carriage. Little extra things like this make all the
difference when teaching a man to behave."

Her large fingers smeared his rectum with that evil mixture, and Alex
screamed his rage as he felt the huge implement pressed against his most
private area.

"There, now the ginger salve stings enough that he will open his cute
little hole up to rid himself of it. When he does, all you do is push
the plug in. Here, Nancy, you try it," commanded Roberta, quietly
slipping out of her cotton under drawers.

After a few tentative thrusts, Nancy pushed hard against his sphincter.
The burning salve made Alex sob as his asshole dilated to expel it. He
thrust up hard with his pelvis as the offending implement slid all the
way in. Moments later, he heard Roberta laugh as she lowered herself
onto his weeping manhood.

"You see, my dears, he will keep bucking like that, and every time he
does, the ginger will sting more, and the plug will rub his pleasure
spot. Now, lower his legs and let me ride him."

Her wet womanhood engulfed him, and as he thrust up into her again and
again, Roberta reached back and twisted the plug in his behind. He
screamed aloud as it raked across the spot that increased his sensation,
and arched until only his shoulders and heels touched the bench. Roberta
cried out her woman's pleasure and dismounted with a chuckle.

"Not bad for a first time, my boy," she informed him, reaching up to
pull hard on his nipples. "Now, you'll pleasure Sarah while I whip your
ass."

Alex began to curse again, but Roberta reached for the small pins used
to hold clothing to a drying-line. "I think you need an additional
reminder of your place on this estate," she snapped, and clasped the
little pins to his sensitive nipples. "There, now. Two little extra
remembrances of this night, and what happens when you offend Lady Dana.
And for every time you swear at me, I'll open them up and snap them
closed again."

Alex shut his mouth in mid-curse at her threat. Without further ado,
Rachel and Bessie picked him up from the bench, and Sarah immediately
pulled up her skirts and lay down upon it. Alex felt the ropes binding
his hands together cut into his flesh as he struggled against them. The
two women lay him carefully between Sarah's widely spread legs, but he
was determined to remain still in order to deny them any more pleasure.
That is, he was determined until he felt the first stroke of the lash
bite across his buttocks.

It stung like a hundred angry wasps, and he thrust forward to escape the
pain, only to find himself pushing into Sarah's eager womanhood. He
heard the women laugh as he tried to twist away, only to receive a
second stroke that hit the torture device Roberta had inserted into his
bottom.

"Goddess!" he gasped. "No more, please!"

His pleading earned him no mercy as Roberta continued her task.

Lady Dana ordered ten lashes, and ten it shall be," she replied,
striping him yet again with the lash. "Now you hush up and keep moving,
boy. You've got four or five more women to pleasure this evening. I'm
sure Lady Dana won't mind if we give you a few extra, in order to keep
things lively."

As the butler applied more of the hated salve and twisted the device in
his burning buttocks again, Alex swore to himself that Fox Mulder Scully
would pay for this evening, in ways he never imagined.



"My lady, what is that ruckus?" Fox asked curiously, hearing the voices
rise and fall from outside the mansion. He left Dana in the tub, where
he'd been massaging her shoulders with scented oil, and peered out the
window, but their chamber faced north and the sound seemed to be coming
from slightly to the east, out of sight. With a start, he realized it
emanated from the copse of trees that surrounded the rear courtyard.

"Is something happening?" he queried, returning to his task, and Dana,
who had been enjoying her husband's attentiveness, relaxed against his
strong hands as they once again began to soothe her tired muscles.

"No doubt it is the new servant, receiving his punishment," she said
carelessly. The hands on her shoulders stilled for a moment, and Dana
glanced up at him. "Fox?"

"Alex is being punished?" he asked in a carefully neutral tone. "Was it
he who offended you?"

"Yes," she said shortly. "He offered himself to me yet again. I find his
brashness tiresome."

Fox smirked to himself even as he felt a twinge of pity for Alex--it was
obvious the irritating servant was being whipped. "What is the nature of
his punishment, my lady?" he asked curiously.

"He has been turned over to Roberta for a sound lashing and correction.
No doubt she will teach him better manners." She gave a sly grin. Dana
knew exactly what type of "instruction" Roberta would give to Alex, and
she felt he deserved every bit of it. After all, it was partly his fault
that Fox had spent a night in the dungeon, she decided, conveniently
forgetting that it was largely her own temper that had deprived her
husband of his freedom for the night.

He paused again, feeling his face drain a bit, his delight in Alex's
punishment suddenly tempered by his realization that Roberta could be
quite strict. "What will they do to him, my lady?" he asked with forced
lightness.

She studied him, not fooled by his attempt at being casual. "Roberta
uses very effective methods of Discipline, Fox. Alex is stubborn--he
would never change his impertinent ways if he were merely sent to bed
without his supper. Some men simply require more correction than others."

He dried his hands absently as he pondered her words. Was he one of the
men she felt required "more correction"?

"Alex will emerge exhausted, but unscathed," she reassured him,
mistaking his silence for concern over the servant. "You need not worry
on his account."

"It is not Alex for whom I worry," he murmured to himself, turning away
in the hope that she would not read the fear on his face.

Dana caught his softly-uttered words, and immediately went to him,
clasping his face between her hands tenderly.

"I will never give /*you*/ to the servants, Fox. Is that what you fear?"

He nodded slowly, staring down into her clear blue eyes. "My lady is
sometimes...severe," he whispered, dropping his eyes to the floor, "and
I am often badly behaved. I am afraid that I will someday anger you to
the point that--"

"No other woman will ever have you," she told him fiercely, her grip on
his face tightening a bit. "Have I not demonstrated that to you
sufficiently on previous occasions?"

Remembering her anger at Melissa's touching him, and the ferocity of her
lovemaking that night, he smiled, comforted somewhat by her obvious
possessiveness.

"You have, my lady," he agreed, nodding as much as he was able with his
cheeks still held between her strong hands.

"Good. I would that you remember that, sweeting." She reached up and
kissed him again, then released his face with a tender pat. "Now dress
yourself. You shall take supper with the family tonight."

Hastily, eager to escape the chamber after such a long confinement, Fox
obeyed, slipping into the despised high boots he knew she liked and
fastening his breeches snugly about his hips. His shirt, which was
tucked inside the breeches, was opened to mid-chest, and Dana released
two more of the fasteners before nodding her approval. She rubbed his
nipples teasingly, and he sucked in a breath of surprised pleasure. Dana
dropped a promising kiss right in the center of his chest before
stepping away. He had a beautiful stomach, and she enjoyed seeing his
manly flesh displayed for her pleasure. It was proper, now that he was
married, but Fox still blushed modestly at the amount of his skin that
was revealed.

Following behind her, two respectful steps to the rear, Fox followed his
lady downstairs and into the dining room, teetering slightly on the
heels which he had despaired of ever growing comfortable with. Melissa
was already there, staring pensively out a window at the beautiful
gardens below, and she turned to them with a smile when they entered.

"Fox, you are looking quite lovely tonight," she told him, pulling out a
chair for the young man to seat himself. "Sister, you should be proud."

"I am quite proud of my husband, Melissa," Dana replied, with a slight
emphasis. "Perhaps you should consider finding one of your own."

"I have thought about it, you know," Melissa confided. Dana seated
herself at the head of the table, and Fox took his place on her right
side. Melissa seated herself on Dana's left, across from her
brother-in-law, and reached for a goblet of wine.

"Thought about what?" asked Maggie as she entered the dining room,
trailed by Walter. She sat at the other end of the table, Walter at her
right, next to Melissa.

"Taking a husband," Melissa replied. "I would like have Lady
Gainsborough add another dashing, handsome husband's portrait to the
family gallery. If there are any such men left in the county, now that
my mother and sister have had their pick," she added, winking
mischievously at both Fox and Walter. Both men dropped their eyes in
unison, embarrassed at her gallant attentions.

"Come, Mother, Dana," Melissa teased. "These two pretty fellows blush
entirely too easily when a woman praises them. Perhaps you do not tell
them often enough that they are pleasing to you."

"My lady voices her pleasure with me often," Fox offered quickly, and
Dana smiled.

"As does Fox," she replied, lifting her goblet in a silent toast to him,
and Fox looked on, bewildered, as the women exploded in laughter. He
glanced at Walter, who stared at his lap, his lips pressed tightly
together, and vowed to ask him later what had been so funny. Fox hated
being so un-worldly, and he knew the laughter was probably at his
expense. Irritated, he stabbed at a string bean with his fork.

"Do not be upset, sweeting," Dana said, stroking the back of his hand.
"I find your innocence a total delight."

She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers tenderly, and Fox
could only stare, a slightly glazed look in his eye. It was what Melissa
had done upon their meeting, and he had been impressed with her
gallantry, but the touch of Dana's lips on his flesh gave him a tingle
that he felt throughout his body. He wished she would kiss him again,
indeed, he wished she would invent a reason to hurry him upstairs this
instant and take him to her bed, but instead, she merely gave a secret
smile and lay his hand gently back on the table.

Fox released his breath at last, modestly swallowing his desire, and
flushed again when he caught amusement in Melissa's eyes. Was everyone
at this table bound and determined to laugh at him throughout the meal?
Ignoring the rest of them, he began to consume his food absently, his
thoughts still occupied with images of Dana's sweet body beneath his,
her whispered endearments in his ear, her legs wrapped firmly around his
body. Realizing that his manhood was growing uncomfortably firm, and
that his breeches were rather revealing, Fox took a long drink of water
from his tumbler and forced himself to think of other things.

He hoped they could make their escape as soon as the meal was completed,
but Lady Maggie suggested an evening of cards in the parlor, and Melissa
excused herself, announcing that she must write some letters. Smothering
a sigh, Fox followed Dana to the salon and took his place across from
her, forcing himself to concentrate on the cards in his hand rather than
his wife's luscious lips and delectable form.

He thought the evening would never end.

At last, when the clock was near to striking ten, Dana announced that
she was tired. She stacked the cards neatly in the center of the table
and stood, nodding goodnight to her mother.

"Fox," she said, holding out her hand to him, "Come. Let us take a walk
in the gardens before retiring."

"Yes, my lady," he replied, trying not to sound too eager. A walk in the
gardens, and then...bed? He hoped so. Politely bidding Lady Maggie and
Walter a good night, he followed as Dana led him from the room.

"Walter, stop stifling those yawns," he heard Maggie say behind him as
she rang for a tea tray. "Surely you can remain awake long enough to
allow me to best you at a game of chess."

Dana laughed as they let themselves outside. "Poor Walter," she said
sympathetically. "When Mother gets involved in her games, time has no
meaning for her."

She wrapped her cloak around her husband's shoulders, mindful of his
bared chest, and led him toward the path through the garden. Leaning
against his broad chest for a moment, she happily inhaling his scent.

"I have wanted you all evening," she whispered.

"My lady has delighted in tormenting me," he replied with shy amusement.

She laughed again. "Come, let us find a bit of privacy and I shall
torment you all the more," she promised, and Fox gulped as she led him
deeper into the gardens. Surely she didn't mean to take him outside again?

Feeling her determined tug on his hand, he was afraid she intended
exactly that, and as they approached a particularly well-hidden gazebo,
he became convinced.

She stopped, before entering the gazebo, and stared up at the clear
night sky.

"The stars are beautiful tonight," she observed. "This is my favorite
kind of night, when the air is still and only slightly cool, and one can
see beyond the moon in the darkness."

"I sometimes look up at them and wonder..." he began, and trailed off,
embarrassed at revealing one of his deepest secrets to his practical wife.

"Wonder?" she prompted, and he glanced down at her, expecting to see
derision but finding only kindness and curiosity.

"Wonder if there are people out there somewhere, just like us," he
confessed.

She regarded him for a moment, finding no trace of teasing in his tone
or demeanor, and considered. "I suppose it is possible," she conceded at
last, "however, I find it very unlikely. And even if there are other
worlds out there with people inhabiting them, we shall never learn of
them. Our Goddess planted us on the ground, and on the ground we shall
stay."

"Perhaps, my lady," he said softly, admiring the way the stars twinkled
in her eyes. "I sometimes dream of flying through the sky like the most
free of birds. To soar, unfettered, unobstructed, uncatchable."

"But you are catchable, my Fox," she said in a low, husky voice.
"Indeed, I have captured you well."

His arousal, which he had managed to suppress during the long, tedious
evening, sprang back to life at her words, and he touched her arms,
grasping them with his hands almost reverently.

"My lady," he breathed, sliding his fingers up to entwine in her silky
hair. "Please--allow me--" He got no further, simply lowering his head
until his mouth met hers. What began as a sweet kiss soon became a
passionate embrace, as both of them gave vent to the urges that had been
kept carefully banked for the past few hours.

Fox took liberties he had never before dared, allowing his mouth to
leave her lips and travel down her throat and shoulders, as she often
did with him, stroking his fingers across her soft breasts and enjoying
the sudden gasp of arousal his actions elicited from her. She pressed
against him tightly, and his hardness ground into her softness until he
feared he would scream with frustration.

"Inside, now," she growled, shoving him toward the gazebo, and he obeyed
instantly, allowing her to pull him over to a bench where they sank
down, lost in their passion. She then proceeded to drive him absolutely
wild with her mouth, kissing, licking and nipping at his burning flesh
until he could stand no more.

"Dana, please," he groaned, feeling as if he would burst out of his
breeches if she did not release him soon.

Instead, she pushed him gently off the bench and to his knees, placing
her heels upon his shoulders. She was wearing a long skirt tonight,
rather than the loose trousers that were her usual attire, and with both
hands, she raised the fabric to her waist, revealing her soft woman's
flesh to him in the moonlight. Her scent was intoxicating, and Fox
inhaled deeply, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in her at once.

"I will teach you a new way to please me tonight, husband," she said
hoarsely, and he nodded, grasping at her legs eagerly.

"Anything, my lady," he begged. "Just tell me what you wish of me."

"I should like you to pleasure me with your mouth, as I have done with
you in the past," she told him, and his jaw dropped in amazement.

"Is that--is that /*done?*/" he asked incredulously, and she almost
laughed, biting back her mirth at the last moment. Somehow, Dana sensed
Fox had had enough of being laughed at for one evening.

"Indeed it is," she told her seriously. "It will bring me much pleasure,
Fox. And afterwards, I shall allow you to come inside me."

Hesitantly, uncertainly, Fox lowered his face to her inviting warmth,
reaching out his tongue and softly touching the pink flesh that was
Dana. He expected to be repulsed, but instead, to his surprise, found
the entire experience quite to his liking, and before long he threw
himself into his new task with characteristic enthusiasm. Dana wriggled
beneath his ministrations, and he drew back, concerned.

"Am I hurting you, my lady?" he asked.

"No," she whispered fiercely. "Continue!"

He obeyed at once, lowering his tongue to lap at her again, feeling the
contours of her body with his lips, tracing the folds of her sweetness
and occasionally dipping his tongue inside her. His hands caressed her
hips while he continued nuzzling at her until he felt her muscles
tighten, then latched his mouth onto a particularly sensitive part of
her and suckled enthusiastically. Moments later she threw back her head
and screamed her pleasure, her heels digging into his shoulders and her
fingers clutching at his arms, holding him in place, thrashing and
moaning and ordering him not to stop, not to stop, not to dare stop.

Finally, when Fox feared his very tongue would fall out of his mouth
with fatigue, she relaxed and tugged gently at his hair.

"Did I please you, my lady?" he asked anxiously, and she graced him with
one of her most dazzling smiles.

"Did I not voice my pleasure with you sufficiently, Fox?" she asked
innocently, and laughed aloud as the full meaning of the dinnertime
laughter dawned on his handsome face. "You did indeed, sweeting, and now
it is your turn. Should you like to be atop me this time?"

His eyes lit up, for lying over her and sinking his manhood into her
softness was greatly pleasurable to him, but Fox found his curiosity
aroused as well.

"Perhaps," he said carefully, "I could come into you as you sit here on
the bench?" The words were hesitant, unsure, but he felt reassured when
Dana smiled again.

"An excellent plan," she said enthusiastically.

Fox wasted no time in plunging his rod into her, sinking in to the hilt
at once. She cried out her pleasure again, and he whimpered, almost
overwhelmed with the sensation of having her all around him, still
tasting her on his lips, feeling her and smelling her sweet scent and
just /*having*/ her beneath him.

"Take whatever pace suits you, sweeting," she whispered, and, feeling
overwhelmed with gratitude at her generosity, he set a slow pace that
made her moan with pleasure, nearly driving himself insane in the
process. He was proud of the fact that he held himself back long enough
to drive that screaming, spasming pleasure from her yet again before he
at last found his own release. Thrusting into her fiercely until his
seed was fully spilled, he collapsed to the bench beside her, panting
for breath.

"You will be the death of me, my lady," he whispered, and she laughed, a
sound he had already come to love.

"You are young, healthy and virile, Fox," she replied, teasing his bare
chest with her tongue as she snuggled against him. "I expect you to
pleasure me often, just as I intend to pleasure you."

"Well," he said teasingly, "a husband's work is never done, and he must
do as his lady commands. Ouch!"

She nipped again at his flesh, suckling the spot at the base of his neck
that she seemed to find so enticing.

"Be still," she commanded. "Or I'll find something else to nibble on."

She tormented him with her lips and tongue until he was almost
whimpering, amazed that he wanted her again so quickly. She pushed him
gently to the floor, then raised her skirt again and positioned herself
above him, plunging his manhood into her and riding him wildly, her
fingernails digging into the white flesh of his forearms as she took him
hungrily. Very soon this time, she cried out her pleasure, and he found
that he had still more seed to spill within her. Fox collapsed against
the floor of the gazebo, breathing heavily, feeling as if he simply must
slip into a faint at any moment, so lightheaded was he from her attentions.

"That was delightful, sweeting," she announced, climbing off his lap and
shaking out her skirts. "You please me very well." Dana smoothed her
hair down with her hands, and straightened the bodice of her gown, while
Fox sat up and stared in amazement.

"Now I know why ladies sometimes wear skirts," he murmured. "It must be
a great convenience when one intends to make use of a man repeatedly."

She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips, stroking some
semblance of order to his own hair with her tender fingers.

"I do hope you felt I was doing more than simply making use of your
body, Fox."

He stared up at her luminescent eyes, her hair that was golden in the
moonlight, and a surge of emotion washed over him the likes of which he
had never known.

"Dana," he said softly, taking her hands in his. "Do you think--you
could ever--I mean--"

He bit his lip in agitation, dropping his eyes to her shoes, and she
prompted, "Could I what, Fox?"

"Is it possible, my lady, that you could ever come to care for me?" He
said the words all in a rush, clenching his eyes tightly against her
answer. He opened them again when she stroked his face tenderly, and
gazed up at her, full of hope.

"My dear, sweet Fox," she said slowly. "I do care for you, a great deal.
I have been quite fond of you ever since we were children. I thought you
knew that."

"I did, my lady--I do. But one is fond of candy. What I mean is, could
you ever /*really*/ care for me?"

She smiled in amusement. "Fox, are you asking if I could fall in love
with you?"

"Is it so ridiculous a notion?" he asked, dropping a kiss on the hands
he still held. "Am I so unlovable?"

"You know that you are not--all who know you find you attractive and
amusing. Certainly I enjoy your company--in or out of bed," she added
mischievously. "But Fox, what you are asking...falling in
love--/*really*/ in love--only makes a lady weak. I know. I have friends
who have made that mistake."

"Lady Modeski?"

She nodded. "Suzanne was a fine officer. I served under her command for
several years, until she met John. We were involved in the most secret
of missions, some I am not free to speak of even to this day. Once John
came into her life, however, I lost a good commander, and almost lost a
good friend."

"How did you almost lose her friendship?" he inquired curiously,
straightening his own clothing and rising to his feet. Dana slipped his
arm through hers and began to lead him back toward the house.

"She was in love with John from the beginning," she mused, almost as if
she were talking to herself. "We could all see it, and we teased her
about it unmercifully. That didn't seem to bother her, but the night
John came to our barracks to visit her and she was not there..."

Her voice trailed off, and Fox swallowed a sudden lump of fear. He could
guess what had happened, and his thoughts turned to Alex, at the mercy
of the servants at this very moment.

"We didn't hurt him," she continued after a moment. "We teased him a
little, groped him a lot, and removed most of his clothing. We had all
been drinking that night, you see. Poor John was as frightened as you
were on our marriage night, Fox, and yet, we did not know he was a
virgin. We thought surely, at his age...and John was not of the
Nobility. His mother was a chef in a London restaurant."

"My lady, you didn't--"

"Well, the one thing about that night on which I can remember without
feeling shame is that no, /*I*/ did not. But they did."

Fox remained silent, horrified at the revelation.

"As I said, John wasn't hurt--not physically anyway. They were quite
gentle with him, but...when he left our barracks, he was no longer
pure," she said, raising a serious face to his. "And Suzanne..."

She shook her head.

"She was angry?"

"Furious. Livid. We were given punishment duties of which I shall not
tell your tender ears. Suffice to say we were all humiliated and
exhausted. But the worst part...the worst part was when she had John
address us all. He was terrified to face us, poor man, but Suzanne stood
beside him while he told us that we had ruined him. Of course he was
quite proper about it, not ungentlemanly at all, but we knew what he was
really saying. It was soon after that Suzanne left the service to marry
him."

She kicked absently at a pebble under her foot, still lost in her memories.

"Suzanne was cold and hostile to all of us after that, except for myself
and two others who had not participated in the rape. John told her we
had tried to help him, and we did, but..."

He waited for a moment, then prompted gently, "But what, Dana?"

"Sometimes I wonder if I tried hard enough to protect John," she sighed.
"It is one of the reasons I am so adamant about your protection, Fox. I
refuse to be responsible for the rape of an innocent man again."

"But Alex..." he said in a low voice, afraid of angering her.

"Alex earned his punishment, Fox," she reminded him sternly. "And I
assure you, Alex was no virgin before tonight."

"How do you know?" he asked curiously, wondering just exactly how one
ascertained if a man was pure, since there appeared to be no outward sign.

She gave a snort of derision. "A lady knows, Fox, believe me."

He mulled over her words for a time. "You were not responsible--" he
began at last, but Dana cut him off.

"It is the job of a Lady of the Nobility to protect the weaker gender,"
she insisted. "Had I truly made an attempt, I and the other ladies who
held back, perhaps we could have saved John from his fate. If he had
been a man of the Nobility, perhaps we would have tried harder..."

"I do not believe that of you, my lady," he defended staunchly. "You
would not first ascertain a man's station in life before running to his
assistance. You are a kind woman."

She gave him a small smile, pulling him again toward the house.
"Perhaps," she said softly. "I was much younger then."

Her mood seemed questionable, and they walked in silence for a few more
minutes before Fox found the courage to voice his next question.

"My lady, there is one thing I don't understand. Why do you say that
loving him made Lady Modeski weak? I find it an admirable quality that
she would stand beside the poor, dishonored man."

"Ah, but Fox, you did not know Suzanne before. It was not the first time
we had taken a man as a plaything for the evening, although it was the
first and only time the man was not a willing participant. Suzanne was
always the ringleader in such activities. She would often recruit
several men if we were camped near a town, to be our entertainment. She
never cared for their desires until John. Then she went soft."

"And softness is not a good thing in a soldier," he stated flatly.

"It is not. Nor in a wife. Come," she replied, slipping her arm around
his waist again. "Let us forget this unpleasantness and return to our
chamber."

"Oh, my lady..." he began with a slight groan, and she laughed outright.

"Do not worry, Fox. Our play this evening has tired even me. I plan on
doing nothing more than sleeping in my bed chamber, but I wish to do so
with a beautiful fox cub in my arms tonight."

"I wish that as well," he responded eagerly as they entered the mansion.

They had just reached the top of the stairs when voices from below
drifted upwards.

"I am amazed, Walter, truly," Lady Maggie was saying as she and her
husband mounted the staircase. "Who would have believed a man could
outsmart me at chess?"

Placing her finger conspiratorially over her lips, Dana pulled Fox into
the darkest corner of the hall, and they both suppressed their giggles
as they eavesdropped.

"I am certain it was a chance occurrence," Walter replied blandly as he
followed his wife upstairs.

"Are you?" Lady Maggie asked suspiciously, stopping to look back at him.

He tried to hide his smile, but was unable to keep his satisfaction a
secret.

"I must confess, my lady, that chess is one of my strong points," he
allowed with a shy smile. "I learned from Lady Sharon's mother, and it
appears I have somewhat of a gift for the game."

"And Lady Sharon, did she play as well?" Maggie asked as they continued
their upward trek.

Walter groaned, gripping his head in mock pain. "She played, my lady,
but she should not have. She was hopeless at the game, I fear."

Maggie laughed.

"The worst part was that she was forever gambling on her games, and
never learned to stay away from chess. I saw Lady Sharon lose many a
gold piece to opponents. On one evening, when she had imbibed a
particular amount of brandy, she lost a diamond necklace that had been a
family heirloom. Her mother was furious."

He smiled fondly as he held the door to the West Wing open for his wife
to enter, and Dana and Fox, still hiding silently in the opposite corner
of the room, clutched at each other as they held back shouts of
laughter. The idea of the very proper Lady Sharon getting drunk and
losing at games was hysterical, for they both remembered her as a
somewhat prim, quite reserved lady.

When the door to the West Wing closed behind her mother and Walter, Dana
grabbed Fox by the hand and dragged him toward the East Wing.

"Come, husband," she ordered with mock severity. "I wish to determine
whether you are able to beat me at chess!"

"And if I win, my lady?" he teased, following her eagerly.

"If you win, I will take you into town with me next week, after our
guests leave, so that you may visit the shops and enjoy yourself."

Lord Scully's eyes sparkled at the prospect, for he had rarely been
allowed into town before his marriage, and since joining the Scully
household, had simply been too busy for such pleasures.

"And if you should manage to best me?" he inquired as they entered their
chamber.

"Punishment by pleasure."

The door closing stifled his groan.



"Perhaps I could be of assistance?"

Fox started at the unexpected voice behind him, then smiled gratefully
at Walter. He had been busy all day, supervising and assisting with the
cleaning of the mansion from top to bottom, and he was exhausted. His
stomach growled loudly, for he'd had no time to stop for lunch, and Fox
was surprised to realize it was already half past four.

"Thank you," he breathed, handing the dusting cloth to Walter and
sinking slowly into a chair. Normally, he would not be doing such menial
work himself, but with the shortness of time, every pair of available
hands was needed. He groaned, grateful Dana only required the heeled
boots for dinner and formal occasions, and slipped off the comfortable
shoes he was wearing today. Fox rubbed his aching feet while Walter took
up his chore.

"Who thought it was a good idea to have eight thousand porcelain
knickknacks in this room?" he groused, staring around the chamber
gloomily. "We shall never be ready in time."

"We shall be ready," Walter replied calmly, taking up a small ceramic
vase and dusting it thoroughly.

"Lord Fox?" came Alex's voice at the door, and both men turned.

"I've finished scrubbing the floors in all the upstairs chambers. What
would you like me to do next?"

"Take the carpets from downstairs outside and begin beating them," Fox
ordered promptly. "Take Sarah and Ellis to help you. They are both very
strong, and can handle the heavy carpets easily."

Alex gave a sullen nod, moving rather stiffly as he exited the room, and
Walter bit back his laughter when he saw the face Fox made toward the
man. So Fox was still jealous of the young maid, was he?

"You've nothing to fear from him, you know," Walter told him as they
pulled down the curtains for airing. "Lady Dana would not give him a
second glance."

"Why wouldn't she?" Fox demanded petulantly, tugging at the heavy fabric
and almost ripping it before Walter managed to unhook it from the
curtain rod. "He's beautiful."

"He is," Walter agreed. "But he is also forward and loose. Dana prefers
modest men who know their place."

Fox looked disbelieving, and Walter continued. "I believe she is quite
taken with your company," he said, feeling sudden compassion toward his
son-in-law. "Fear not, young Fox. She will not be taking that one to her
bed."

"How do you know?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I am older than you, and have been married far longer. I have
seen the look a woman gets in her eye when she wants to bed a man, and
Lady Dana does not have that look for the new servant."

"But the night I was downstairs..." Fox said hesitantly, rubbing at a
spot of dust on the bureau.

"Lady Dana slept alone," Walter told him firmly.

The hopeful look on the younger man's face went straight to Walter's heart.

"Are you certain?" he asked eagerly.

"I am," Walter said positively. "I heard some of the servants discussing
the fun they'd had with Alex that night. They kept him much too busy to
warm Lady Dana's bed."

Fox, his heart singing, went about the rest of his chores with a feeling
of light cheerfulness.



He entered the kitchen to check on the evening meal, and when the smell
of food cooking hit his nostrils, realized how long it had been since he
had eaten. Grateful that he was no longer feeling ill, he sank down on
one of the benches at which the servants took their meals and asked
Natalie to bring him some soup. He tugged off the cloth he'd wrapped
around his hair to keep the dust out, and slipped his filthy apron over
his head, tossing both to the bench beside him.

"My lady says you are to eat a proper supper with her, in the dining
room, Lord Fox," Natalie contradicted. "She is awaiting you now."

Fox glanced down at his grimy clothing, swiped at his sweaty face, and
lamented the fact that his hair was a mess and he most certainly smelled
rather ripe. He debated the possibility of sneaking upstairs for a bath,
but knew that Dana would never tolerate being kept waiting. A perfect
husband would not keep his lady waiting, anyway, he chided himself. A
perfect husband would present himself at his lady's table, appropriately
groomed and ready to attend to her needs. With a sigh, he realized
perfection was a goal which he would be long in attaining, but he must
keep trying in order to win her affections.

Quickly, Fox slipped outside to the pump, managed to wash his face and
clean away some of the sweat-smell that clung to him, and returned to
face the family at table. Dana smiled when he entered the room, seeming
not to notice his disarray.

"Ah, Fox," she greeted him. "I am glad to see you looking well."

"Thank you, my lady," he murmured, sliding into his chair. "Please
forgive my appearance. I had not realized it was so near supper time."

She examined him critically, saying, "You do look as if you could use a
bath," and then proceeded to discuss patients she had seen that day with
her mother, for the most part ignoring her husband.

Fox sat beside her, shoving food around his plate and occasionally
taking a bite, but his appetite had gone with her words. She had not
seen him all day, and all she could do was criticize his appearance? He
didn't even want to be at this table--he would much prefer to be soaking
in a tub of jasmine scented water just now, but she had demanded his
presence.

He caught Walter's eye, and the older man gave a slight smile. "Do not
let it bother you," he said softly, and Fox nodded, swallowing the lump
that had appeared in his throat again. Of course Dana wished to discuss
business with her mother. She was an important healer in the village,
and Lady Maggie had many more years at the practice of medicine behind
her. Dana simply wished to take advantage of her mother's expertise.

Yawning tiredly, Fox began pulling apart the slice of bread that lay
beside his plate.

"So, what did you do all day, Fox?" Dana asked pleasantly, when she had
finished her meal and pushed her chair back from the table. "Did you
manage to keep busy?"

Fox choked back his retort, angered at her inference that his job
consisted of so little work that he must search for things to keep
himself occupied. Perfection, he reminded himself.

"I have been preparing the house for your guests, my lady," he said
demurely, eyes on his plate. "It is quite a task. I don't believe some
of the chambers have been cleaned properly in twenty years. I simply
wanted everything to look nice for your guests."

Dana shrugged. "But surely the house was clean enough?" she teased. "It
was hardly necessary to go so far as dusting the attics and polishing
the weathervane."

Clearing his throat, Walter cut in, "I believe Fox has been quite
industriously supervising and assisting with a thorough cleaning of the
mansion, my lady. He has not even stopped for a meal. Because he was ill
abed yesterday, he has had much more work than usual to accomplish today."

Dana took notice for the first time of the weary slump to her husband's
shoulders, the limpness of his hair and the lines of fatigue on his face.

"Fox, we have servants to clean the manor," she said gently. "There is
no need for you to work yourself so hard."

Fox took a deep breath before replying, "I realize that, my lady. It was
the shortness of time that presented a problem. Every pair of hands was
necessary, including mine. And Walter has assisted in many ways as well,
which I thank you for allowing, Lady Maggie," he added, giving a nod of
deference to his mother-in-law.

"Indeed, Fox, the two of you have accomplished a great deal in the past
two days," Lady Maggie responded with an affectionate smile. "Dana and I
will be quite proud to have you at our sides when our guests arrive."

Fox nodded gratefully, closing his eyes just for a moment, and felt the
conversation melt into a blur around him. What seemed as if it could
only be seconds later he felt Dana's strong hands pulling him to his feet.

"You are asleep in your chair, sweeting," she laughed. "Come, let's get
you into bed. You must be fresh and pretty when Lady Suzanne arrives
tomorrow."

He allowed Dana to lead him to their chamber, still half-asleep, and sat
on the side of the bed while she washed some of the dirt from his hands
and face with water from the basin next to the bed. He fell back wearily
to the pillow, giving a deep sigh of relief, and Dana kissed him soundly
on the lips.

"Rest now, Fox," she instructed. "You may have a proper bath in the
morning. Get as much sleep as you can, for tomorrow night I intend to
take you quite thoroughly."

His eyes flew open as she left the chamber, wondering uncomfortably how
he was supposed to get to sleep with /*that*/ thought in his mind. He
felt his manhood stir to life as he realized she'd neglected to put a
nightshirt on him. Climbing out of bed, Fox intended to rectify the
oversight, until a thought stopped him. Perhaps she'd intended him to
sleep in the nude, as she often did? One thing he had learned about his
wife was that she rarely did anything by mistake. A perfect husband
would not dress himself if his wife wished him naked. Hesitantly, he
fingered a clean nightshirt for a moment, then slammed the dresser
drawer and slipped back into bed. If Dana wished him dressed, she would
tell him so, he decided sleepily.

He recalled her final words, and resolutely rolled onto his stomach,
forcing himself to call to mind all manner of unpleasant thoughts in
order to banish the image of her lovely body possessing his. He had
almost accomplished the task, drifting slowly into much-needed sleep,
when there came a knock at the door.

"Enter," he called sleepily, raising his head in curiosity. Who could be
wanting him now? Surely the entire mansion was in readiness for the
company that would arrive in the morning.

Fox sighed in resignation when Alex slipped through the chamber door.
Groaning inwardly, he wondered what he had forgotten to do, and why the
servant he most detested had been sent to remind him.

"Yes, Alex, what is it?" he asked wearily.

"We need to have a talk, my lord Fox," Alex replied, his sneering
expression conveying none of the respect the words should contain.

Fox frowned. "I dislike your tone," he said evenly, gripping the
coverlet to contain his anger.

"You shall dislike much more than my tone by the time I am finished,"
Alex replied, throwing the latch to lock them inside the chamber.

Fox's eyes widened, but he refused to allow the servant to see his
sudden flicker of fear. The entire family was downstairs, out of earshot
should Alex attempt to harm him, but surely there were other servants
nearby. His eyes rested momentarily on the bell cord. It was two feet
from the bed. He could make it before Alex reached him if he must.

"Don't consider calling for help," Alex told him coldly. "I assure you,
my lord, you do not want the rest of the household to witness what I
have to say."

"Why should I wish to listen to anything--"

"You will listen," Alex interrupted, reaching the bed in three quick
strides. He grasped Lord Scully's left arm without warning and twisted
it behind his back, holding him in place. "You will listen to all I have
to say, and when I am finished, you will do exactly as I tell you. If
you call for help, I will reveal my story to the entire household.
Surely you wish to hear it before you allow that to happen?"

Fox closed his mouth and nodded once, sullenly, then waited for the
servant to continue.

"I know your secret, Fox," Alex whispered harshly. "I worked with Isaac
Tremont in London, and he told me all about how you helped him escape
from Lady Diana Fowley."

Fox stared back at Alex, too stunned to even protest, all the breath
suddenly leaving his body. It couldn't be! Surely the man was lying! And
yet, if he did not know the truth, how would he ever connect Isaac's
name to his? Isaac must have-- Fox clenched his jaw in fury. He had
sworn Isaac to secrecy about his part in aiding the poor servant's
escape, and Isaac had vowed to protect him. If Alex knew, how many
others did as well?

"I see I have managed to render you speechless," Alex continued with wry
amusement. "Did you truly believe you would never be found out?"

"I had thought that the man I saved was trustworthy," Fox replied
bitterly. "Obviously I was mistaken."

"Isaac is trustworthy, Fox. He is also very, very grateful. He confided
in me, late one night, about a gentleman of the Nobility who had helped
him escape from a lady who held a five year contract for him. The Lady
in question had left him to die. Isaac didn't give any names at first,
but..." Alex shrugged.

Furious, Fox tried to punch at Alex with his free arm, but the servant
grasped him around the waist, squeezing his arms so tightly against his
body that he could scarcely breathe. "What did you do to him?" Fox
demanded, fearing Isaac had been made to suffer further because of his
own actions.

Alex smiled, and there was nothing but ice in his expression. "I got him
drunk," he said simply. "I convinced him I was his friend. I convinced
him I was /*your*/ friend. He told me everything I needed to know. I
only had five months left on my contract, and when it was up I came
here. Luckily for me, your Lady was quite eager to hire a young, pretty
upstairs maid, but had she not been so eager, I had another card to play."

"How do I know /*you*/ are not lying?" Fox spat angrily. "You have no
proof of your accusation. My lady will believe the word of her husband
over that of a mere servant."

Alex gave a short laugh. "Do you think I never considered that
possibility?" he smirked. "I have a letter from Isaac, addressed to you,
recounting his gratitude to you for all you did to help him. He's quite
thorough with the details of your assistance, and begs that your Lady
employ me now. He knew I would be looking for a new employer in this
region, and wished to help his friend."

"You? A letter? You, who cannot read or write?" Lord Scully's derisive
tone only angered Alex further.

"Yes, I who cannot read or write, but who knows how to survive, how to
bribe those with more learning but less intelligence than myself, and
how to make their arrogance work in my favor," he hissed. "I know
exactly what the letter says, I have committed it to memory. I'll allow
you to see it if you wish. There is another copy in existence, left in
the hands of a trusted friend, one who has instructions to deliver the
letter to Lady Fowley in the event of my untimely death or disappearance."

He sat quietly for a moment, but Fox seemed unable or unwilling to respond.

"So you see, dear Fox--you belong to me. You will do as I say, or I will
see you delivered into her hands immediately, and there will be nothing
your fine Lady can do to save you. The law is clearly on the side of
Lady Fowley."

Fox struggled angrily at Alex's words, but he was unable to escape the
servant's iron grip.

"What do you want of me?" he demanded, his chest heaving.

Alex looked thoughtful, gazing down at the beautiful man beneath him,
and Fox felt pure terror pierce his heart. He had heard of men who
preferred to lie with other men, but had never felt any such urges
himself. The thought that Alex might demand to use his body sickened and
terrified him.

Alex seemed to perceive his thoughts, for he gave a short bark of laughter.

"Not that, Fox," he whispered softly, running his free hand down his
captive's cheek gently. "Although if I thought you would be willing..."

Fox shuddered.

"I'm not a rapist," Alex went on coldly. "However, I am not above
extortion. I can use you, Fox, for many things. I can improve my life
immeasurably with your cooperation. Should you choose to be difficult
about the situation...well, Fox, if the idea of lying beneath me is
horrifying to you, picture yourself at Lady Fowley's mercy. She would
have the right to claim you for a period of four and one half years, the
length of time left to Isaac's contract when he escaped her. Do you
believe she would pass up the chance to do so?"

Fox didn't answer, but he knew Alex saw the defeat in his eyes.

"What shall I do?" he asked dully, suddenly feeling as dead as winter
inside.

Alex appeared to consider, but Fox had a suspicion that he had planned
every move before coming to his chamber.

"For now," the servant told him carefully, "I want you to step forward
and take the responsibility anytime I am to be punished."

Fox swallowed hard, remembering the whipping Alex had so recently
received, not to mention what came after.

"The--the respons--"

"The responsibility /*and*/ the punishment," Alex told him quietly.

"But I--"

"Do not look so desperate. I have no doubt that Lady Dana will deal much
less harshly with you than with me. I am certain she would not give you
to the servants for an evening of their pleasure."

Fox did not miss the bitterness beneath the words, and his kind heart
softened for a moment.

"I am sorry that happened to you," he said sincerely. "I would not wish
to see anyone suffer such a punishment."

Alex's face darkened. "What do you know of what happened to me?" he
demanded. "Have you ever been forced to pleasure woman after woman,
denied your own release, while your bottom is whipped and you have a--"
He stopped suddenly, surprised at the sudden guilt that crossed the
other man's face. He had not expected Lord Scully to have a conscience.

"If you value your freedom, it will not happen again," he continued
quietly. "Do we have a bargain, or shall I contact Lady Fowley?"

Fox met his challenging stare for a few seconds before closing his eyes
in surrender.

"We have a bargain," he answered faintly.

"Good." Alex stood, releasing Lord Scully's wrists, and Fox merely lay
upon the bed, wanting to accost the servant but fearing to make the
attempt. If he should try and fail...

"Do not consider revealing this conversation to your Lady," Alex warned,
"or my friend will go directly to Lady Fowley. You cannot escape me,
Fox. There is no use in trying."

Fox nodded dumbly, waiting until Alex released the latch and left the
room, and then curled up into as tiny a ball as he could manage in the
center of the bed, fighting back his tears of anger and fear. With one
fist, he pounded the pillow in frustration. He had been trying so hard
to be perfect, and had almost begun to believe his plan had a chance of
success. In spite of her words, Fox had begun to believe that she might
truly care for him, just a bit, and hoped her caring would grow into
something more. He had been so happy with Dana, and now this...this
/*maid*/ was threatening it all. And yet, what choice did he have but to
agree to Alex's demands?

Fox had no doubt that if he told Dana the entire story, she would have
Alex killed, and he knew he could never live with the guilt that would
bring. He also knew that she would punish him severely, but maybe she
would not send him away. Besides, if he told her, and she dispensed with
Alex, there was the other person, whose name was unknown to him, who
would immediately reveal his secret. It was simply too dangerous to risk.

Burying his face in his hands, Fox prayed silently, begging the Goddess
for Her help--surely there could be no assistance from any other source.

End chapter 7



Fox lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the tightness in his
gut. He was torn between wanting to tell Dana everything, and the fear
that, if his actions were revealed, even to her, he would end up in the
hands of Lady Fowley. Fox knew very little about the law, but he did
know that in this case, Lady Fowley would have a valid claim on him to
replace the four years and six months of Isaac's contract that he had,
essentially, stolen from her by freeing the poor man. The one thing he
did not know was whether Dana, with her power and influence in the
village, could get him out of the trap in which he now found himself.

Also, if Dana knew about the situation, not only would she in all
likelihood lose any affection she had for him, she might also decide to
murder Alex in order to protect her family's good name. Then, assuming
Alex was telling the truth about his friend who had a copy of the
letter, Fox would still be found out. She might even go so far as to
challenge Lady Diana to a duel, and Fox shuddered at the implications of
that. He wouldn't want to live if he were the cause of her injury or
death. And should Dana lose, not only would Fox belong to Diana for the
rest of Isaac's contract length, but there was little chance that Diana
would let him go at the end of it. She would probably convince the Queen
to let her keep Fox, or even marry him, and he would be in her clutches
forever. Besides, after years in Lady Fowley's clutches, he would be
disgraced, ruined in decent society. Dana would never take back a soiled
man as her husband, or even as a lover.

He tossed and turned for hours, until at last the chamber door opened
and he saw Dana's small form enter the room. She tried to creep quietly
inside so as not to wake him, and Fox closed his eyes, pretending to
sleep, but she was able to tell by the rhythm of his breathing that he
was awake.

"Fox, are you not resting?" she asked quietly, setting the candle holder
on a table and snuffing the light.

"I--I was, my lady," he said apologetically. "A--a dream woke me."

She took his chin and studied his face in the moonlight.

"You are lying, sweeting," she stated calmly, and slipped out of her
clothes, dropping them carelessly to the floor. Sliding into the bed
beside him, she pulled him close, and Fox gasped when he realized she
was completely naked.

Her hands wandered down to cup his manhood, and he squirmed, feeling
himself growing hard against her fingers. Slowly, Dana traced one
fingernail gently up and down his shaft until he moaned with need.

"Do not worry," she yawned. "I am far too tired to take advantage of you
tonight, my dear."

He'd been certain she intended to make love to him, and turned to face
her, astonished.

"But I dislike being lied to, Fox," she said silkily, in answer to his
questioning look. "You are fortunate I am too weary to take my hand to
your backside. Now, sleep. You need to get your rest as well, for we
must greet our guests soon after we break our fast."

"Yes, my lady," he mumbled, burying his face in her shoulder as she put
her arms around him.

"Fox," she asked, drawing back when she felt the wetness of his tears on
her skin. "What is wrong, sweeting?"

"Nothing, Dana," he told her peevishly, swiping angrily at the wetness
of his eyes. "I'm just tired."

She ignored his tone, settling his head back to her shoulder and
stroking her fingers through his hair. Poor dear, she thought, he was
exhausted.

"I feel I must owe you an apology," she said hesitantly.

Fox raised his head and stared at her for a minute, utter surprise on
his face.

"Well don't appear so taken aback!" she laughed softly, pulling his head
down once again. "I am able to apologize, on those rare occasions when I
am in the wrong."

"What is my lady apologizing for?" he queried curiously.

She gave a small sigh, putting aside her teasing for the moment. "I
truly did not intend you would work so hard to prepare for Suzanne's
visit," she said, her voice almost contrite. "I am not learned in the
ways of a man's work, and I am sorry for leaving you so little time."

He said nothing, merely relishing the feel of her fingers in his hair.

"You are still angry with me."

"No, my lady, not angry," he corrected quickly. "Although I did feel as
if you believed my work to be unimportant, or so easy that I must search
for ways to occupy my time."

"Well, as I said, I was wrong," she answered grumpily, giving a little
swat to his bottom, and he yelped, unprepared. "Let us not dwell upon
the past. You shall be much busier when our children arrive."

"Children?"

His astonished look made her laugh again. "Yes, Fox, children. Did you
think we would never have children?"

"I--hadn't given it any thought at all, my lady. When shall we have them?"

She laughed once more, and he gave her a look of consternation. How he
hated being found so amusing!

"Do not fret, sweeting," she said, dropping a kiss atop his head. "I
find you refreshingly unspoiled, and totally delightful. As to the
children," she continued slyly, "I suspect you shall know that before I."

"But /*how*/ will I know?" he persisted.

"You will know, Fox, when the time arrives. Now, hush your chatter and
go to sleep. When you are unable to awaken in the morning, I shall
punish you severely for your slothfulness," she teased.

Fox quieted immediately, listening as her breathing slowed and settled
into its nighttime rhythm, but he knew he would have no trouble waking
in the morning. In truth, he did not sleep a wink that night, for as
soon as he was left alone with his thoughts, he began to toss and turn
and fret once more.

His mind played out every possible scenario to its logical end, and with
a growing sense of terror, Fox realized how well and truly trapped he
was. The one thing he knew for certain was that he wanted to see the
letter Alex claimed to carry. If the servant could produce no such
letter, Fox had made up his mind to tell the entire story to Dana
immediately. Surely she would have a solution.

By the time dawn arrived, Fox was tense and irritable, his head aching
and his entire body sore from lying abed for hours without really
resting. As soon as Dana began to stir, he crawled out of bed and rang
for their bathwater.

"I want to see that letter!" Fox hissed at Alex as the servant poured
steaming water into the tub.

Alex just smiled and gave a slight nod. He'd expected Lord Scully to
demand to see proof of his claims, in fact, he'd been surprised when the
request wasn't made the night before, but he supposed Fox had been too
stunned to think of it.



By the time she was awakened enough to be aware, Fox was already
dressed. He'd hesitated momentarily--would a perfect husband bathe
before his wife?--and then decided he did not care. He was tired of
being the perfect husband anyway, and it seemed she would never be more
than "fond" of him. He felt dirty after his conversations with Alex last
night and this morning, and longed to wash the smell of fear and sweat
from his body. Besides, he reminded himself as he quickly bathed, she
would not be happy with him if he kept her waiting, and there was much
to do this morning.

"I take back what I said about your probable difficulty arising," she
said dryly, watching as he prowled the room restlessly, picking up items
and putting them back down, tidying areas that were already perfectly
neat, the muscles in his back so tense she could make out the knots
beneath his clothing.

"I had no trouble," he said shortly. "However, if my lady does not pull
herself from the bed soon, she will be greeting our guests in a shocking
state."

Dana regarded him coolly, taking note of his blush at her scrutiny,
before sliding deliberately from beneath the coverlet and strolling,
still naked, to the tub.

"This water is cold," she informed him brusquely. "Have more brought."

"If my lady had only--" he began, but bit back his retort.

"If I had what?"

"Nothing, Dana," he murmured, tugging on the bell rope.

He blocked the door when Alex arrived, so as to prevent the maid seeing
his wife without her clothing, and gave the order for additional bath
water. Why, he wondered irritably, did Dana insist upon parading around
in such a casual state of undress?

As soon as the door was safely shut, he approached her with her midnight
blue robe.

"Perhaps my lady would like to--"

"My lady would not," she interrupted curtly. "This is my house, and my
chamber, Fox. I shall do as I like, and you will accustom yourself to
that fact."

"But, Dana, Alex..." he pleaded desperately.

"Alex will see what he cannot have, and his envy of you will only grow,"
she retorted, never suspecting how her words would increase his fear.
"He is a servant, Fox, a mere maid. You are Lord Scully. You must drop
this wretched rivalry with him."

"It isn't a rivalry, my lady," he answered sullenly, again holding out
her robe. "I only wish you to get dressed."

He realized he had overstepped his bounds when she glared at him, but
before she could take action, the servants bearing water rapped at the
door.

Fox opened the door a crack and ordered them to leave the buckets there.
He dismissed them sharply, and turned back to see an amused smile on his
wife's face. He waited until the servants had departed, then struggled
with the buckets, dumping each of them into the tub while she watched
silently.

When she stepped into the tub, he took the empty buckets and set them
outside the door again, closing it carefully in order to avoid giving in
to the urge to slam it so hard as to make the rafters shake. She watched
him, and when he turned, she was actually laughing at him. Laughing!

"That display of jealousy was touching, but hardly necessary, my sweet,"
she said, a tinge of sarcasm coloring her words, and Fox finally felt
his temper snap.

"Is it your intention to humiliate me at every turn?" he demanded
angrily. "Must I endure the gossip of the servants, as well as their
groping hands, when they say that you are taking your pleasures with
those other than your husband? Must you shame me--"

"Silence!" roared Dana, and Fox stepped back, as if moved by the very
force of her anger. "I have told you before, Fox Scully, and I will only
say it once more--I will not have my behavior dictated to me by any man,
certainly not my husband! You have proven to be headstrong, thoughtless
of your own safety, and largely lacking in self-control. Your behavior
has warranted severe punishment on more than one occasion. Do not force
me to discipline you before breakfast."

She stood up in the tub, reaching for the drying cloth, and ignoring his
fury, said, "Wear the black shirt I bought for you last week. I like the
way it displays your chest and belly. I wish to be the envy of my
friends, when they see you."

Her arrogant words, the casualness of her tone, and the lack of concern
for his feelings, all combined to cause him to suddenly lose control, in
a way he never had even dreamed of before in his life. Completely out of
his mind, uncaring of the consequences, indeed, not even considering
that there would /*be*/ consequences, he raced toward her with a roar of
rage.

"I am not a whore!" he yelled, grabbing her around the waist with one
strong arm and throwing her to the bed. She landed on her back, bouncing
a time or two, and was so stunned by his action that she didn't even try
to defend herself. Fox threw open the drawer of the dressing table where
she kept her scarves and, working quickly, flipped her onto her stomach,
tying her wrists to the bedposts as she had so often done with him.

"Fox, are you bewitched? Release me at once!" she demanded, but he
ignored her.

"You treat me like a common man from the streets of London," he panted,
yanking her ankles apart and fastening them to the bed posts. "You never
give a care to how I am feeling, you always simply force your will upon
me. How does it feel, Dana? How does it feel to be used as nothing more
than an object for pleasure?"

"Fox, I have /*never*/--" Her protest was cut off in mid sentence when
he jammed another of the scarves in her mouth, tying it tightly behind
her head.

She twisted her head around and glared up at him with all the fury she
could muster, jerking at the scarves that held her captive, but he was
not deterred.

"Let's see how you like a little punishment, Lady Dana Scully," he
gloated, climbing onto his knees beside her and raising his hand above
his head.

"One. For treating me like a common whore!" he said firmly, bringing his
hand down upon her white buttocks, and she flinched. He stared at the
red handprint her skin and smiled a smile of pure delight.

"Two. For allowing the servants to touch me as they would any cheap
trollop!" Another mark joined the first, and he rubbed his hands over
them, feeling the heat emanating from her bottom.

"Three, for consigning me to that vile dungeon!" The third stroke was
harder than the previous two, and Dana screamed behind her gag.

"Mphh uhkn bssstd!" she yelled, and he laughed.

"What's that you say, my dear?" he asked saucily, pretending to listen.
"You want me to take you until you beg for mercy? Why yes, Dana, I
believe I can accommodate you."

Rising, he quickly stripped off his clothes, then climbed onto the bed
behind her. He reached beneath her hips and lifted them roughly,
bringing her ass up to his face, kissing the red marks while his fingers
probed her womanly flesh. He grinned even wider when he felt the
moisture there.

"I think my lady enjoys this," he gloated, rubbing her sensitive nub
while she ground herself against his hand. "I think my lady enjoys this
very much!" He continued stroking her, watching as her movements against
him grew more and more frantic, and just as it seemed she was about to
reach her release, he pulled away. She screamed in frustration.

"Punishment by pleasure, isn't that what you called it?" he asked,
sliding his hands under her twisting form to cup her breasts. He pinched
and tweaked at them until her nipples were rigid and her head turned
frantically from side to side. A steady stream of unintelligible words
came from behind the gag, but he ignored them all.

"I'm going to take you now, Dana," he whispered into her ear, biting the
lobe of it sharply, and she gasped as he pulled her bottom up and slid
swiftly into her, impaling her upon his rod until she could feel his
sacs pressing against her woman's parts.

She moaned, pushing against him again, and he laughed. "Is this what you
want?" he taunted, moving his hips back and forth a couple of times,
teasing her. When he stilled, she bucked beneath him in an attempt to
make him move.

"You like it fast, don't you, sweeting?" he asked, deliberately using
the pet name she had given him. "Fast and hard?"

She nodded, moaning again, her eyes closed in anticipation of promised
ecstasy.

"Well, not today," he told her, beginning to slide back and forth in
maddeningly slow, maddeningly deep strokes. She groaned and he slowed
even more, squeezing her breasts while she ground her hips against him.

"No," he said firmly, releasing her breasts and swatting her bottom
again. Then he took a firm grasp on her hips, holding her in place. "Not
this time. This time /*I'm*/ making the rules."

She twisted her hands in a futile attempt to free them, begging
incoherently behind the gag while he proceeded to take her
ever-so-slowly, building her so deliberately to a release that she
thought she would die. At last, when she thought it would never end,
that she would never find that sweet completion she so desperately
sought, she felt his hands slide around to brush lightly across her
womanhood.

His touch sent her screaming in paroxysms of pleasure, and as her inner
muscles gripped his manhood, he pressed fully into her, crying out his
own release.

When his seed was spent, he collapsed gently across her back, mindful of
his greater weight, then rolled to one side so she could breathe. A
silly smile still adorning his lips, he turned his head, looked into her
eyes and froze. It was only then that he truly realized the magnitude of
what he had done.

"Dear sweet Goddess!" he breathed, his face turning pasty white as he
stared at his wife, trussed up and gagged, his seed spilling from her,
the red marks of his hand still plainly visible on her buttocks. "Oh my
lady..." It was more a moan of distress than any coherent sentence that
emerged from his mouth as he quickly released her, gently untangling the
scarf from her hair and pulling it from her mouth.

Fox watched as his mistress sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing at her
wrists, and winced when he saw the angry red marks caused by her
struggle. She stared at him wordlessly, and he dropped to his knees, his
eyes fixed firmly on the floor. He had never lost control of himself in
this manner before in his entire life, and Fox couldn't even imagine
what the punishment would be. If she sent him to the dungeon for one
night simply for attacking a servant, what would she do to him for
assaulting her? For daring to tie her to the bed, and /*spank*/ her as
if she were a disobedient child--and then to tease and torment her,
taking his pleasure from her roughly, ignoring her protests--

He closed his eyes in agony. He would be in that dungeon for the rest of
his life, if she even allowed him to live. She might take her sword and
run him through, but no, he decided on the heels of that thought, Dana
would not kill him so quickly. No, she would want him to suffer, in
order to pay for the way he had dared treat her.

"Fox," she said, and her voice sounded odd. He thought it must be the
blood rushing to his brain, the pounding in his ears that made it seem
so. "Bend over the bed in your usual position."

Scrambling up on shaky legs, he obeyed quickly, wondering how severely
she would whip him before sending him below. He bit back a sob--things
had been going so well until the day before, until Alex and his threats.
Up until then, Fox had truly believed he had a chance at a happy life,
but now, it was clear that his only possible future was one of misery.

She slowly pulled open a drawer of her dressing table and withdrew a
vicious looking cane, cut to the length of his forearm. Fox paled when
he saw the instrument--his mother had owned one similar.

He opened his mouth to beg for mercy, and found that his voice refused
to function. Wetting his lips, swallowing hard, he managed, "My lady,
please forgive me--"

Her face bland, without expression, she approached him slowly.

"Dana, please, I did not sleep well, I am not myself," he continued to
babble, but she ignored him.

"One, for daring to use your strength so unwisely," she said, and the
cane landed across his buttocks sharply.

"AHH!" he cried, squirming as if to escape, but she placed her hand
firmly on the small of his back and held him in place.

"Two, for your appalling language." The second stroke landed just below
the first, and he screamed as it burned a line of fire across his skin.
The pain was more intense than anything he'd felt at her hand before,
and he was certain flesh must have been ripped away.

To his surprise, she tossed the cane to the bed, tugging him up until he
was standing before her, tears wetting his face, his eyes still full of
terror.

"Three," she announced gently, "for pleasuring me in such a way as I
have never known before. You have truly surprised me, my dear, and a
little astonishment in a marriage is sometimes a good thing."

Then, to his utter amazement, she pulled his head down and bestowed a
passionate kiss upon his lips. He moaned again, this time not in pain or
fear, and she pulled away to look at him. He felt intense and utter
relief to see her teasing expression.

"You will tell me where you came upon such an idea," she commanded, and
he blushed.

"I--was not myself--" he stammered, but she shook her head.

"I know why you lost control of yourself," she cut in, "but I want to
know where you learned of such a...technique."

He flushed even redder, and stared at the floor, while she waited
patiently for his answer.

"My lady has a well-stocked library," he offered at last, grinding one
toe into the rug, and she broke out in peals of laughter.

"I can see that I shall have to inventory the books there," she gasped
through her mirth. "Perhaps I shall give you some specific volumes to
read."

He said nothing, confused at her reaction--shouldn't she be ordering the
servants to chain him downstairs at this very moment?

Dana returned the cane to its place, then calmly lowered herself into
the now cooled tub and quickly bathed again. She beckoned him over and
used the washing cloth to clean the evidence of their passion from his
body. He closed his eyes and gripped the side of the tub while she
attended to his still-sensitive manhood, wishing she would decide to
skip breakfast altogether and take him back to her bed.

"Wash your face, Fox," she told him gently, rising from the tub yet
again, "and let us go down to breakfast. I expect you to sit on your
chair and eat a good meal. If you do not, I shall warm your bottom again."

"Yes, my lady," he said quickly, hurrying to do her bidding and then
dress himself. Somehow, he thought, she seemed to have forgotten that he
had overpowered her, tied her up and taken her without her permission.
He sent up a quick prayer that she would not soon remember, and followed
her from the room



Lord Walter was been brushing Maggie's hair when the piercing shriek had
echoed through the mansion, and they exchanged a knowing look in the
dressing table mirror.

"Young Fox is quite headstrong," Maggie remarked, taking up a comb and
handing it to Walter to arrange in her hair. "Dana must punish him
frequently."

"He will adjust, my lady, as did I," Walter answered calmly, fastening
his wife's hair up into the style she preferred of a morning. "He is
very young."

She smiled, her one dimple showing. He found it wildly attractive, and
fought back an urge to kiss it, thinking as he restrained himself that
Maggie did not care for forward men any more than did her youngest
daughter.

"Were you ever that young, Walter?" she asked, donning a bracelet and
matching earrings. She had seen his desire in his eyes, and wished
briefly that he would be more spontaneous, but she supposed, with an
inward sigh, that Lady Sharon had eliminated any urges he might have had
in that direction. Lady Sharon had been exceedingly proper and
old-fashioned.

"Oh yes, my lady, indeed," he replied, standing back to admire her.
"Lady Sharon punished me quite often when we were first married. It was
perhaps a year before I learned to do as she expected."

'Blast her soul for breaking him while she was about it, too!' Maggie
thought with a tinge of anger.

"Was she a difficult taskmistress?" she inquired, waiting for him to
fall into place behind her.

"I wouldn't say she was that, my lady," he answered honestly. "She was
simply rather...unyielding at times. Quite unexpected was her behavior.
I remember once..."

He shook his head, as if to rid himself of the memory. The expression on
his face indicated it had not been particularly pleasant.

"Yes?" Maggie prompted with a smile.

"I am afraid I forget the story, my lady. Tell me, when do we expect
Lady Modeski to arrive?"

"You fool me not, husband," Maggie remarked, smiling into his soft brown
eyes as she gently patted his cheek. "I will hear this story of yours,
perhaps in our chamber this evening, where I may persuade you properly
if need be. Lady Modeski arrives before noon."

Walter nodded obediently, and stifled a sigh as she made her way
downstairs ahead of him. He wished he could take back his words, but now
that Maggie knew there was a story to be heard, she would be relentless
until her desire to know was satisfied.

"But I am grateful you do not share Lady Sharon's fondness for
gambling," he murmured as they entered the dining room, and she shot him
a look that said he would be telling her everything, and very soon.

Soon after they seated themselves, Dana and Fox appeared, and Walter
gazed sympathetically at the young man as he slid carefully into his
chair. His head was bowed and his face flushed, a sure indication that
he had been chastised severely by his lady only recently. Dana, on the
other hand, looked fresh and remarkably happy.

"You are looking well, daughter," Maggie observed. "And Fox, you appear
quite lovely as well. I do believe black is your color."

He glanced swiftly down at the black shirt and breeches that Dana had
told him to wear, flushing at the compliment.

"Thank you, my lady," he said softly, casting a sidelong look at his wife.

"Fox does not care for black, he says it makes him look as if he is to
attend a funeral, but I believe it is his best color," Dana said with a
wink at the man beside her, who blushed even more deeply.

"Good morning," Melissa sang happily, entering the room last.

A chorus of greetings rose from the table as Melissa approached, and
when she reached her chair, she stopped, staring at Fox as if enthralled.

"Sister?" asked Dana a bit testily, waiting for Melissa to take her seat.

"I am sorry," Melissa smiled, seating herself quickly. "I was so taken
aback by this ravishing creature before me that I completely forgot
where I was."

This level of praise was simply too much for Fox, who didn't see why
women complimented him anyway. He knew that he was passably pretty, but
certainly no more so than any other man, and far from the "ravishing"
his sister-in-law had described him as. Besides, he could tell that her
praise of him made Dana angry.

"Please," he murmured quietly to his wife, "may I excuse myself?"

"No, Fox," she answered gently, nodding toward his still-full plate.
"Eat your breakfast."

He held back a sigh and nodded obediently, giving Melissa a quick smile
of thanks for her kind words. The sooner he finished his meal, the
sooner he could leave this uncomfortable situation. He ate as much as he
was able, and when he sent an imploring look Dana's way, she glanced at
his plate again, looked into his beautiful eyes, and gave him a nod of
dismissal. He hadn't eaten everything, but she recognized that he had
had a difficult morning--poor Fox, she thought, taking another bite of
ham, he had expected the worst kind of punishment after what he had
done. It wouldn't do to let him take advantage of her in that way too
often, but she was pleased to see him showing a little more spontaneity.
She wondered exactly which book he had found which had given him such
ideas.

"My ladies, Walter, please excuse me," Fox said, rising gratefully. "I
must attend to some last minute details before our guests arrive." Fox
hastily made his exit, breathing deeply as he exited the dining room. He
didn't know why Melissa insisted upon saying such things to him--he
suspected it was simply to tease her younger sister, but he hated being
a pawn in their rivalry, no matter how good-natured the intent.

Maggie and Walter excused themselves a few moments later, and Dana and
Melissa were left alone at the breakfast table. Dana signaled for more
tea to be poured into her cup, then sipped at the hot liquid carefully.
Melissa drank her own, studying her sister over the rim of her cup. Dana
was irritated with her, she could tell, and Melissa experienced a spark
of regret at her earlier words.

"Sister, I would apologize to you," she said softly.

Dana's eyes flew to Melissa's face. "Apologize?" she asked gruffly. "Why?"

"Your husband is a beautiful man, indeed, one of the most beautiful I
have ever seen, and I enjoy showering him with compliments, but I assure
you, Dana, I do not look upon him with lust. I would not attempt to take
him from you, even if his heart was not firmly in your hands."

Dana said nothing, and Melissa could see the suspicion still shadowing
her eyes.

"Come, Dana, let us be friends as we used to be," Melissa offered,
holding out her hand with a smile. "I promise not to praise your
beautiful Fox again if it makes you uncomfortable. You know I always did
enjoy teasing you both as children."

"You did indeed," Dana agreed, slowly taking the hand that was offered.
"And I fear the Scully temper is greater in myself than in you. My
apologies as well, Missy. I have not been a very good hostess during
your visit here."

Melissa's smile deepened when her sister used the affectionate name from
their childhood. "You have not called me that in years," she said in a
voice slightly choked.

Dana, fearing her sister was about to give in to a wave of useless
emotion, briskly shoved back her chair and stood.

"I shall find you a man as attractive as Fox," she announced with an
impish grin. "Then you will find your head turned in other directions
than his."

Melissa laughed aloud at her plan. "Your scheme is admirable, but as for
finding a man as beautiful as Fox..." she lifted her cup in toast to her
sister. "I wish you luck."

Dana squeezed her hand again and left the room, and Melissa stared after
her thoughtfully. She had appeared to be at least partially serious, and
Melissa wondered if Fox had managed to make his way more deeply into her
sister's heart than Dana was able to acknowledge. She also wondered if
she would have prospective husbands paraded before her at an alarming
rate now. Dana rarely failed at something to which she put her mind.



Fox roamed the lower floors, making certain that all was in readiness.
He entered a small parlor where the family often took tea and frowned.
Dust was accumulated on the furniture, and books lay in disarray on one
of the small tables. He had ordered Alex to clean this very room only
yesterday. Obviously the maid had felt his orders not worth following.
Moving decisively to the bell cord, he gave it an angry tug. A houseboy
quickly appeared.

"Yes, my lord?" the young lad asked, eyes downcast timidly.

Fox studied him carefully. He was young, perhaps fourteen but small for
his age, with golden hair and delicate features. He was quite lovely,
and Fox was suddenly grateful that Dana required lifetime contracts from
her servants. If this child chanced to find himself employed by some of
the less honorable women, he would end up being nothing more than a toy
to warm their beds, Fox was certain. Even on this estate, the women were
especially lusty, although they did not appear to interest themselves in
children.

He wondered if the boy was a virgin, and if so, how he could possibly
protect the child from being ravished by the female servants. He
resolved to look into the matter further when he had more time--right
now he must see to the arrival of Dana's guests.

"Your name--it is Aja, is it not?" he asked the boy kindly.

"Yes, my lord."

"Aja, you may look at me when I speak to you."

Aja raised clear, piercing blue eyes to stare up at him.

"I would that you summon Alex, the maid, to this room immediately," Fox
told him. "Then you may go into the kitchen and tell Natalie that I
ordered you to eat at least three of the pastries she baked this morning."

Aja's face lit up in a happy smile, and almost before his enthusiastic,
"Yes, my lord!" was out of his mouth, he was gone.

Fox smiled at the boy's hasty departure, then continued to pace as he
waited for Alex to appear. He wanted to castigate the maid severely for
his lax attention to his duties, but did not dare. However, a maid who
simply didn't work was not to be endured. Surely, even Alex could
understand that.

"Yes?" Alex asked insolently from the doorway, his approach so silent
Fox did not hear his footsteps.

"I told you to clean this room yesterday," Fox replied, hiding his
surprise at the sudden appearance. "It has not been straightened, nor
dusted. See to it now."

"Certainly." Alex crossed to a small knick-knack shelf and picked up a
green painted pottery elephant, examining it closely before lifting it
high above his head.

Fox gasped when he realized the servant's intent, but before he could
utter a word, the elephant lay shattered upon the floor.

"You--" Fox began, but Alex held out a hand and made a shushing motion.

"Remember our agreement," he smirked as footsteps approached.

The entire family, who had been gathered in the main salon, had heard
the noise and come to investigate its cause. When Dana saw the shattered
elephant, she gave a miserable sigh.

"It is the elephant you brought me from Africa," she said sadly to her
sister. "I adored it."

Fox felt his heart sink at her words. It couldn't be some useless piece
of bric-a-brac, oh no, it had to be a cherished item, one that was, in
all likelihood, irreplaceable.

"What happened?" she demanded, looking up at the two men, one face
guilty, the other smug.

Alex glanced expectantly at Fox, and Fox swallowed hard.

"It--it was my fault, my lady," he offered at last. "Alex was
cleaning--" At the servant's glare, he changed his sentence. "Alex was
doing a bit of last minute dusting and I'm afraid I clumsily bumped into
him. I made him drop the elephant. I am sorry." He stared at his hands,
waiting for her to spill her wrath upon him, but instead, she merely
shook her head sadly.

"Tis no matter," she told her husband with a small smile. "I enjoyed it
for a time, but it was merely a piece of pottery. There are other
possessions which I hold in far greater value."

Dana did not see Alex's eyes narrow quickly in anger, but Fox did.

"But my lady, it was my own stupidity that broke your treasure," he
insisted with an uneasy glance at the servant. "Surely some punishment
is in order?"

She stared up at Fox, puzzled. "Am I to understand that you are asking
me to punish you, Fox?" she asked, her voice colored with disbelief.

Fox felt trapped. Surely there was only one answer the perfect husband
could give, and yet it would not satisfy Alex. Perhaps the next
"accident" Alex caused would not be so minor as this one. With an inward
sigh, Fox answered at last.

"It should be as you wish it, my lady."

"Exactly, my husband," she agreed. "And what I wish is for Alex to clean
up this mess, then attend to his duties upstairs. Fox, our guests will
be here any minute. We must prepare to greet them."

She turned and left the room, followed by Walter and Maggie, who had
silently observed the entire scene. Fox followed, still uncertain, but
Melissa crossed her arms and leaned casually against the wall. After a
few second's hesitation, Alex shrugged his shoulders and knelt to scoop
up the pieces of the broken elephant.

"You seem upset, Alex," she observed as he scraped the pieces angrily
into one hand. "Are you concerned that your job is in jeopardy because
of an accident?"

"No, my lady," he answered dutifully. "I am sorrowful that Lord Fox has
caused Lady Dana to lose a treasured possession."

"Indeed." She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "I trust that, now
you realize what a clumsy oaf Lord Fox is, you will be all the more
careful that accidents do not happen in his presence. Fox has a tendency
to accept blame for things of which he bears no guilt."

Alex's head jerked up in surprise, and he saw the knowing look in her
eyes. He paused as he licked his suddenly dry lips. "I should not like
to have my lord bear the blame for my mistakes," he told her, an
expression of careful honesty on his beautiful face.

Melissa smiled coldly. "I shall remember that. I would that you remember
it as well." With that, she turned on her heel and left the room,
leaving a shaken but still fuming Alex to finish cleaning up the results
of his efforts.



"They have arrived!" Dana cried excitedly, as soon as the sound of
carriage wheels coming up the drive could be heard.

She took Fox by the hand and pulled him toward the front door. "Roberta,
I shall greet them myself," she told the butler, who bowed politely and
stood aside. "Suzanne is my dearest friend," she told Fox, her eyes on
the approaching carriages.

Fox was nervously counting servants--there appeared to be two carriages,
one bearing Lady and Lord Modeski, with two male servants riding atop,
and another with luggage and several other servants of both sexes.
Abreast of the carriages, riding the tallest mounts he had seen in his
life, were four very large women, well armed and dangerous-looking.

"Guards," Dana told him, seeing his curious look. "Suzanne must travel
dangerous roads between her home and mine. She always brings along
several trusted guards in order to protect John's safety."

"I imagine he must feel very secure in her care," Fox remarked, and Dana
glanced at him curiously. Was that envy she heard in his wistful words?
It had not occurred to her before that Fox might feel insecure.

"No one is allowed to trifle with John," she told him seriously, pushing
the thought of his security to the back of her mind for the moment. She
would consider it later, when she could be alone. "No one." She turned
back to Roberta.

"Roberta, did you make the servants aware of the special nature of these
particular guests?" she inquired.

"Yes, my lady. All have been informed that Lord Modeski is not to be
touched or molested in any way. Dire consequences has been promised,
should that restriction be broken by any."

Dana nodded her satisfaction as the first carriage drew to a halt before
them.

"Dana!" called a tall, blond woman, emerging almost before the wheels
had stopped turning. "It is good to see you!"

The two women embraced briefly, then Suzanne turned to the carriage and
held out her hand. A man's delicately white arm emerged, grasping the
hand nervously, then John Modeski shyly exited the carriage.

Fox studied the man who had endured the horrible ordeal of which Dana
had told. He was tall, thin, with light brown hair that framed his face
in a short beard. He was well dressed, and appeared comfortable in the
same boots that Fox lamented the wearing of on a regular basis. He stood
beside his wife, his bearing naturally graceful and poised, his hand
still clutching Suzanne's tightly.

"This is Fox," Dana said, taking his arm gently and urging him forward.

"Fox," Suzanne said warmly, taking his hand and squeezing it quickly.
"How lovely to meet you. I am sorry I was unable to attend your
wedding," she went on, turning back to Dana. "John's mother was quite
ill, and we were in attendance to her."

"Is she recovered?" Dana asked, concern shadowing her face. Suzanne had
told her John was very close to his mother.

"She is perfectly well now, thank you, my lady," John replied, stepping
forward at last. He seemed to have overcome his shyness, at least for
the moment.

"Fox, this is my husband, John Modeski."

"Welcome to Scully Manor, Lord John," Fox said, bowing formally.

John laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners pleasantly.

"Just call me John, please," he said, looping his arm companionably
through Fox's. "Nobody calls me Lord John except the servants. How I
hate it. I am not used to having a title, even yet."

"Suzanne, my sister Melissa is visiting. I don't believe you have met her."

Suzanne shook Melissa's hand warmly. "It is an honor to make the
acquaintance of one who holds so high a position in our Queen's guard."

"And it is my honor to meet the woman who saved my sister's life in
France," Melissa responded seriously. "Dana has told me the story."

Suzanne laughed. "It is true, the Frenchwoman's sword was swift, but
luckily, mine was swifter."

"'T'was skill, not luck," Dana objected as they entered the salon. All
traces of the broken elephant had been removed, she noted with
satisfaction as they took their seats.

"It was no more than any good commander would do to preserve her
fiercest warrior," Suzanne said. "And Dana had already become my friend."

Roberta entered then, bearing a tray of refreshments, and the
conversation flowed freely. Fox listened, fascinated, as the women
recounted stories of their battles in France, and Melissa even threw in
a few tales of her own travels. Fox was mesmerized by her description of
the places she had visited.

"Is it true that there are societies where men rule, my lady?" he asked
her curiously, and listened raptly while she described the village of
Godanza to him. His eyes grew wide with wonder at her description of the
men going off to hunt while the women remained behind, tending the homes
and caring for the children.

"Retain no peculiar ideas from this, Husband," Dana said in a voice
soft, yet firm, meant only for his ears. "If such societies were
successful, they would not be limited to deepest Africa."

He blushed slightly, dropping his eyes to his lap. "I would never
presume to think I could rule you, my lady," he said with a tiny smile.

"He is quite lovely, Dana," Suzanne said from across the room. "And he
blushes most becomingly. One wonders what words you whisper in his ear
to produce such a fine hue on his face."

Fox blushed even deeper at her words, but stared up at Lady and Lord
Modeski in surprise when John responded, "Suzanne, do stop. You
embarrass Fox. No doubt he is unused to your type of teasing."

"No doubt he is very used to it, having been married to Dana for all
these weeks!" Suzanne retorted, gazing laughingly at her husband.

Fox was astounded at the easy conversation between the two of them, at
the liberties John took freely with his wife--he grasped her hand
frequently, and even kissed her on the cheek a time or two during their
conversation. He had never seen a man behave thusly toward his wife.
Then he remembered his own earlier behavior, and felt a tightening in
his stomach. Had she truly forgiven him, or was the remainder of his
punishment to come after their guests departed? After all, Lady Modeski
had expected to meet Lord Scully the Younger--it wouldn't do for Dana to
have him banished to the dungeon. Perhaps she was only waiting a week
before sending him there.

He sought out Walter's gaze, and saw the older man give a slight nod at
his confusion. It was as Walter said, then; Suzanne did regard John as
an equal. The thought simply boggled the mind.

When Roberta returned to collect the tray, Fox motioned her over.

"Were there adequate accommodations for all the servants?" he inquired
quietly.

"Don't you worry, my lord," she grinned, running her eyes seductively
down his bared chest toward his groin. "They've all been taken care of."

Fox drew back reflexively, biting his lip in consternation when he saw
Dana frown at him. It was a harmless glance, he told himself, and it was
expected that he ignore it as beneath his notice. After all, Roberta was
the highest ranking servant on the estate, and he was a mere man. At
least she hadn't touched him. That, in front of their guests, would have
been too humiliating to endure.

His glance happened upon John, after Roberta withdrew from the salon,
and he was astonished to see that the man looked positively ill. His
eyes were huge, and he was staring at Roberta's retreating form as if
she were a viper about to strike. As he watched, Suzanne put a calming
arm around her husband's shoulders.

Dana, seeing his reaction to Roberta's lustful examination of Fox,
leaned forward intently. "John, the servants have been given the usual
orders. You will not be touched while you are here, and should anyone
take unwelcome liberties with you, you are to report it to Suzanne
immediately, so it can be dealt with. You are a guest here, and I will
not have you made uncomfortable."

"Thank you, my lady," John whispered, his hands clenched tightly
together in his lap. He looked pleadingly at Suzanne, and she stood,
holding out her hand to him.

"Dana, if you will excuse us, I believe John would like a rest before
luncheon."

"Of course," Dana replied, rising as well. "You are in the blue chamber,
as usual. Roberta will see to your luggage."

"Lady Maggie, Melissa, gentlemen, thank you for your company," Suzanne
bowed. "We look forward to a long, friendly visit."

So saying, the Modeskis left the room, John clutching his wife's hand
tightly, her arm encircling him protectively.

"Roberta."

Roberta turned her thoughts from the luggage to her mistress' voice.

"Return to me when you are finished settling Lady Modeski in her
chamber. I wish to speak with you."

"My lady, if you will excuse me, I should see that the luncheon
preparations are under control," Fox said, and Dana nodded.

He made his way quickly to the kitchen, wondering what she wanted to say
to Roberta. He knew he would never find out unless he managed to
overhear the servants speaking of it, for if Dana had intended him to
know, she would have commanded him to remain.

He entered the kitchen to find Natalie calmly stirring a pot of stew
while three of her assistants tormented Alex. The hapless maid was
backed against a wall, his breeches unfastened, his hardened manhood
jutting out as the women took turns caressing it, and his bared chest.
His protests went unheeded, and Fox had no doubt that the man would end
up on his back servicing the women very shortly.

"Leave him be!" he said sharply, and the women turned to him.

"Ah, my lord Fox," one of them cooed, leaving Alex, but allowing her
gaze to rake over Fox until it rested pointedly on the bulge his manhood
made in his tight breeches. "You've a lovely body, but unfortunately, my
lady forbids us taking our satisfaction with you."

"Just to look at him is satisfaction enough," said another, reaching to
pull his shirt open a bit further. He backed away at her touch.

They had often indulged themselves with a grope of his person here and
there, and occasionally he had been set upon by more than one of them,
usually when they were somewhat in their cups, but never had he felt so
entirely assaulted, and he put it down to the sleepless night and
unusual morning he had spent. With a flash of empathy, Fox thought he
felt a tiny inkling of what John must have suffered.

Just as he feared they would transfer their attentions from Alex to him,
he heard Roberta's welcome voice call out loudly.

"Leave off him," she ordered, clapping her hands together to get the
womens' attention. "I has new orders from Lady Dana."

The servants backed away at the mention of Lady Scully's name, for none
wished to earn her wrath.

"Lady Dana has told me that it makes Lord Modeski uncomfortable to see
our attentions to Lord Fox. Therefore, while Lady Suzanne and her
husband are visiting, neither Lord Fox nor Lord Walter is to be touched."

There was a slight ripple of protest, to which Natalie responded, a
mischievous twinkle in her eye, "Never mind, me girls. I believe a
certain blue-eyed upstairs maid is still available for our attentions
and pleasures whenever we wish it."

"That is quite true," Roberta agreed, "but for now, you all have duties
to attend."

The women returned to their tasks, happily discussing what they intended
to do to Alex when they were released from their chores that evening,
and Fox groaned. He was certain that he would pay for any unwanted
attentions the servants forced Alex to endure.

"Lord Fox, my lady wishes your presence in her chamber," Roberta said
formally, withdrawing from the kitchen at once.

"All is in readiness here," Natalie said in response to his enquiring
look. "Go to your lady."

Fox obeyed quickly, praying that the servants would obey Dana's order
that he was not to be touched while John was visiting. He wondered if he
could persuade Lady Modeski to make Scully Manor her permanent home.



"Fox, what is wrong?" Dana inquired when he entered the bedchamber. "You
look upset."

Fox approached the chair where she sat, falling to one knee before her
and taking her hand in both of his. He kissed her palm before looking up
into her concerned face.

"My lady, I beg you grant me leave to ask a favor of you."

She smiled, smoothing his hair with her free hand. "Of course, you may
always ask favors of me," she said gently. She cupped his chin and
asked, "What is it you desire, sweeting?"

He seemed hesitant to speak, now that he was before her, biting his lip
nervously until she raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

"My lady, the servants...the women...I hate it when they look at
me--sometimes they even touch me!" he suddenly said all in a rush.

"You appear to have enjoyed their caresses in the past," she said,
reminded of his arousal on the evening he spent trapped in the stocks.

He flushed bright red at her observation. "Indeed, I do not," he replied
haltingly. "My weak man's body betrays me, but I wish no hands to caress
me save yours. When they touch me, I feel...cheap and dirty," he
finished, his bravado dying a quick death, the last word coming in
almost a whisper.

She smiled slightly. "Like a whore?"

He bit his lip at her reference to their morning conversation, and Dana
took pity on him.

"It is a common practice, Fox," she reminded him gently. "It is the way
of the world which our Goddess has created."

He shook his head, staring at the hand he still held between his two
larger ones. "I do not believe our Goddess holds men in lesser esteem
than women, else She would not have made us necessary to the creation of
daughters." He raised his eyes to hers, a bit afraid of the forward way
in which he had spoken, and yet unwilling to back down from the words.
"I have never grown resigned to it, nor has any man of my acquaintance."

She raised both eyebrows at that revelation. "Does Walter share your view?"

"I--we have not discussed it, my lady, but I feel certain he does.
Walter is a modest man, and to be treated as a plaything by those whose
rank should be beneath the Nobility, but is not simply by virtue of
their gender...it does make one feel like a common whore." He spoke
simply, honestly, and Dana found herself contemplating what it must be
like to be a man. She imagined the situation reversed, that men were the
dominant sex and that she, a woman, was considered a mere plaything,
available to all the male servants with her husband's blessing as long
as they did not cross a particular line. She remembered the way he had
taken her that morning, the excitement she had felt when he had tied her
to their bed, her rush of at his unexpected, incredibly forward
behavior, and then the pleasure she had experienced at his hands.

How would it have been, she wondered, if it had not been Fox, but a man,
or perhaps several men, uncaring of her feelings, taking their pleasure
with her not because she was who she was, but simply because she was
female, a vessel into which they could spill their seed. She shuddered,
shaking off the vision, and stared at the man who still knelt at her
feet with renewed respect.

"Fox, I am sorry that you have endured this," she said seriously. "I
truly had not thought--" She broke off, running an agitated hand through
her auburn locks. She shook her head at her own stupidity.

"I owe you an apology, yet again," she told him with a rueful grin. "I
have treated you as no more than a common street man, simply because
most women do so and that is how I was raised." She raked her hand
through her hair again, and Fox considered that it would need a good
brushing before they met their guests for supper. "By the Goddess, I
begin to see your side of it," she continued, anger at herself deepening
her voice. "I do not wish you to feel uncomfortable in your own home. I
will speak to the servants at once."

"My lady, thank you!" he said, nearly overcome with relief. He kissed
her hand again, over and over. "You have my devotion for all of my
life!" he told her fervently.

She laughed aloud at that. "But I would have had that anyway, would I
not? At any rate, I cannot speak for my mother, but I will discuss the
matter with her this afternoon. Perhaps she will wish to include Walter
in this plan, and perhaps she will not. I can only command how you are
treated."

"I will do anything you wish to thank you," he said. "I cannot express
the relief I feel. Walter and I were both quite envious of John." His
face was serious, but his eyes were twinkling, and she laughed again.

"Get up now," she told him. "Suzanne and John are resting from their
journey, but they will arise soon. We are to dress for dinner tonight."

Fox thought of the hated boots, but said nothing. They were a small
price to pay for the freedom she had just granted him. Squaring his
shoulders, he resolved to wear any outfit she chose for him without
complaint.

"And now, sweeting, I have a gift for you."

His eyes lit up. "A gift, my lady? What kind of gift?" He was on his
feet in a flash--Fox loved surprises.

"Do not thank me too quickly," she smiled, withdrawing a small jeweler's
box from a drawer. "Part of the gift you will enjoy, but part of it will
require some bravery on your part. However, you will look lovely, and I
wish you to wear these things as a sign that you are mine."

He took the box, glancing at her hesitantly before removing the lid.
Inside, gleaming in shiny gold, was a ring, shaped into the Scully
family crest--the head of a lion, the body forming an 'S' and the tail
ending in a sword. Nestled beside it was a gold earring, bearing the
same symbol, smaller, but just as beautiful. He stood there, uncertain,
while she removed the ring from the box.

"I should have given you this at our wedding, but I was having it
prepared, and the jeweler took ill. She has only just recovered enough
to finish the ring this week."

She slipped it onto his right hand, on the traditional finger of
marking, and Fox gazed at it proudly. Most husbands didn't have a
marriage ring, indeed, it was usually only the very wealthy who wore
them, and this symbol that he was a part of the Scully family was one he
knew he would treasure always.

"I will give it to our eldest daughter when she takes a husband," he
whispered reverently, caressing the band around his finger.

"I think that would be a lovely gesture," she replied, taking his hand
in hers and kissing the finger the band encircled. "And now, the other
part of the gift."

Fox swallowed hard. An earring in the left ear was a common male
adornment, but he had never worn one, indeed, he had been grateful when
his mother did not insist upon having his ear pierced.

"Will it--will it hurt badly?" he asked, his voice small and frightened.

"It will hurt quite badly for a moment," she replied honestly. "I will
pierce the hole myself, and after the earring is safely in your ear, I
will rub it with some medicine that will take the pain away."

His face went quite white as she led him over to the bed, pushing him
down until he was lying on it, leaning over him.

"You must trust me," she said, her voice firm, and he nodded shakily.
"You will endure this, because I wish it. I am your mistress, Fox, and I
command you in all things."

In spite of his fear, Fox felt himself growing aroused at her words. He
loved it when Dana became forceful with him, reminding him of his own
natural male submissiveness and her dominance over him.

"When will you do it, my lady?" he asked breathlessly.

"I will do it now," she told him. "And once we are finished, I will
reward you for your bravery."

He nodded again, his mouth suddenly too dry to answer, and watched while
she rose and collected two of her scarves. He sighed and closed his eyes
as she approached him with them.

"I'm going to tie your wrists very tightly, Fox, because I don't want
you to move while I'm piercing you--you might hurt yourself."

"Yes, my lady."

He kept his eyes closed while she completed her task, not opening them
even while he heard her rummaging through her medical valise and setting
items upon the night-table next to the bed. He slitted them open when he
felt the bed dip as she sat beside him, and opened them fully when her
unexpected kiss landed on his nose.

"You are brave and strong, Fox. In a few moments it will all be over,
and you will be well marked with my symbol."

She took his left earlobe between her fingers, pinching it to get the
blood flowing, then he felt her rub an odd-smelling lotion on it.

"This will cleanse the ear so that you do not get an illness from the
puncture," she told him at his curious look. "I should not like to lose
you to a fever now."

He watched as she reached for something on the night-table, and clenched
his eyes tightly shut again, turning his face away, when he saw the
large needle she picked up. He felt her turn his head back into
position, then place something beneath his ear lobe. A moment later he
felt the prick of the needle against his flesh, and he sucked in his
breath.

"I shall do this quickly, Fox," Dana said, intent upon her task. "There
is no need to draw out the agony."

So saying, she plunged the needle through his ear into the cork beneath
it. She held him, expecting the jerk that might have bungled the job had
she been less experienced, and almost before the tears began to fall
from his eyes, she was rubbing the soothing salve on the wound.

"There now, darling," she said soothingly. "It is all over now, and you
will look more beautiful than ever with my mark on your ear and your
finger."

Dana quickly inserted the earring through the newly created hole in her
husband's earlobe, dousing it liberally with the medication that would
wash away both the blood and the pain.

She allowed him to lie there, gently stroking his hair and face, until
his breathing returned to normal and the color crept back into his face.
He closed his eyes, enjoying her attentions, and soon felt her hand
leave his face and travel downward. He couldn't help smiling as her hand
cupped his manhood, growing larger within his breeches.

"How feel you now, sweeting?" she asked mischievously, leaning forward
so her hair tickled his face.

"My lady promised me a reward, I believe," he whispered shyly, too
embarrassed to open his eyes and yet hoping against hope that she would
take him now, while he was still bound and at her mercy. He tugged
experimentally at the scarves and found that he could not loosen them
even a fraction of an inch.

Dana saw his shy hope, read his mind, and proceeded to slowly unfasten
his shirt until his chest and stomach were completely bared. Then,
bending to take one of his sensitive nipples in her mouth, she teased
and tormented him with her tongue and teeth until she thought he would
burst out of his breeches with need. He moaned, arching up toward her,
and she took his other nipple, giving it the same treatment. She moved
back and forth, lavishing attention on first one, then the other, until
Fox was whimpering, writhing uncontrollably on the bed, pleading with
her incoherently to take him, bring him to his release.

With a wicked smile, she released his nipple and began slowly kissing
her way down his stomach, lapping eagerly at the indention on his belly
until his pleading turned to all-out begging. He promised her anything,
everything, his eternal devotion, if she would only bring him
satisfaction, and finally, deciding that he had endured enough torment,
she released his breeches and took his member into her mouth, stroking
up and down slowly with her tongue, nibbling lightly with her teeth,
until at last he arched against her, screamed out her name, and
shuddered his passion into her warm, moist mouth.

Fox lay in a daze, feeling light-headed and dizzy, while she cleaned him
with a damp washing cloth and straightened his clothing. She untied the
scarves, kissing each wrist in turn as she placed his arms gently beside
him on the bed.

"I fear you shall have bruises again," she observed, and he shrugged
lightly.

"I do not mind the bruises, when they are accompanied by such pleasure,"
he whispered shyly. "My lady, please..."

"What, Fox?" she whispered in return.

"Please kiss me."

She did, quite thoroughly, and before they left the chamber, he had
given her as much pleasure as she had given him, perhaps more.



They entered the dining room, Fox walking behind Dana as usual, and
Suzanne, seeing the couple, gave an audible gasp. Fox had been dressed
carefully by Dana, wearing a shirt of black silk, which she had allowed
him to button to mid-chest, much to his delight. His hips were encased
in a matching pair of black breeches, the boots on his feet were
polished to perfection, and the earring glittered in his ear. When he
raised his right hand self-consciously to brush back his hair, the
marriage ring glimmered in the lamplight. He was positively stunning,
and Suzanne crossed to take his hand, raising it to her lips and kissing
it reverently.

"Fox, you are an absolute vision," she remarked. "Dana, I am almost
envious of you!"

Dana smiled when John, pretending jealousy at his wife's attention to
Fox, moved to her side and slipped his arm about her waist.

"What say you, Dana," John jested. "Shall we exchange spouses for the
evening?"

Fox appeared shocked, unable to determine as yet if his new friend was
joking or not, but Dana threw back her head and laughed loudly.

"I should not like to face your lady after having dared to touch you,
John," she told him with a wink at her former Captain. "She is much
larger than I, and quite ferocious when crossed."

Suzanne, having released Fox's hand, grabbed John and jerked him
playfully against her body, staring into his eyes with a smouldering
intensity.

Fox tossed Dana a pleading look and she shook her head, taking his hand
to lead him toward the table. "Nay, Fox, be not afraid. Suzanne only
teases. She would no sooner give John over to another woman than I would
relinquish you."

"I am happy to hear it, my lady," he said, joining in the fun now that
he had been reassured. "They appear well-matched."

"Indeed, John is my match, my mate for life," Suzanne said softly, still
staring into her husband's eyes, and she leaned forward, bestowing a
kiss upon his lips that, while appearing chaste to observers, bespoke of
much passion to come later. John gave a small, secret smile as he twined
his fingers in Suzanne's, and the two of them approached the dinner
table together.

"Mother has asked that we excuse her and Walter this evening," Dana
announced when the four of them were seated. "I believe she wished to
spend some time alone with him. Melissa has gone into to town to visit a
friend, as she must depart for London on the morrow."

"It is like old times," Suzanne remarked, "with the addition of your
lovely husband, Dana. Come, let us regale him with stories of our
conquests, that he may understand what a fierce warrior he has married."
As she spoke, her eyes twinkled merrily.

Dana laughed again, and Fox watched her happily, aware that there had
not been many occasions for such gaiety since their marriage. As for
himself, he had been so upset by Alex's recent revelation that he had
been more quiet and withdrawn than usual, but he had been doing his best
to be the perfect husband he had resolved to be. Now that Dana had
forbidden the servants to molest him, he felt more confident in
searching for a solution to the Alex problem. In any case, there was
nothing to be done about it tonight, so Fox squared his shoulders and
set himself to enjoy his dinner.

Both couples sniffed appreciatively at the bowls of steaming rabbit stew
that were placed before them, and Fox picked up his spoon eagerly. It
was one of his favorite meal beginnings.

He took a large spoonful of the soup, instantly spitting it back into
his bowl, grabbing at his goblet of water while Dana watched him in
surprise.

"Fox?" she questioned, confusion evident, but her query was answered
immediately when Suzanne took a bite of the stew.

"Pepper! Goddess, that's hot!" Suzanne gasped, grabbing at her own
goblet which had been filled with wine.

John and Dana put down their spoons in tandem, each turning to their
respective spouses to assist them in recovering. Fox, his eyes
streaming, coughed a few times, feeling Dana's pat on his back, then
pulled himself together.

"If my lady will excuse me," he murmured, "I shall discover what caused
such a grievous error with the dinner preparations."

Dana merely nodded, seeing that he was all right and turning her
attention to Suzanne.

"I don't understand it," she was saying as he quickly left the room.
"Natalie is an excellent chef."



"Natalie, I am in need of your assistance," Fox called, entering the
kitchen. The servants, most of them seated at the long trestle table
where they took their meals, looked up in surprise when Lord Scully the
Younger entered.

"Yes, Lord Fox, what is the trouble?" Natalie asked, emerging from a
side room bearing a tray of breads left over from the day before. She
set it at one end of the servants' table, then gave him her full attention.

"Has anyone here tasted the rabbit stew?" he asked quietly, not wishing
to broadcast the problem to the entire staff. He needn't have
worried--they were intent upon getting their fair share of the bread
making its way down the table.

"No, my lord, that was reserved for Lady Dana and her guests alone,"
Natalie told him. "Is something wrong?"

In answer, he picked up a spoon and scooped up a bit of the stew,
holding it out for her to try. Almost as soon as her mouth closed around
it, she was spitting the vile mixture out into a bucket used for washing
pots and plates.

"What happened to it?" she demanded, staring into the stew pot as if the
answers lay therein.

"Did you follow the recipe I gave you exactly?"

Natalie shook her head. "I didn't prepare the stew, Elan did. It seemed
a simple enough dish, and I am attempting to train him to be my
assistant. Perhaps he is too stupid to follow a simple recipe," she said
darkly, turning to stare at poor Elan.

Elan, hearing his name spoken, rose and approached the two. "My lord
Fox, is there something wrong?" he queried uncertainly.

Fox gave him a taste of the stew, watching as his reaction matched
Natalie's.

"But--I don't understand!" he exclaimed. "I followed the instructions
you gave me to the letter, I swear it!"

"May I see the recipe?" asked Fox calmly, holding out his hand. He could
feel his gut curling, but kept his face carefully neutral. Elan quickly
retrieved the scrap of paper, written in Fox's own perfect hand, and
after taking a look, Fox immediately spied the problem.

"Look at this," he whispered, turning his back so the other servants
couldn't overhear. "Someone has changed the pepper measurement. It is
now four times what it should be!"

Elan felt his face drain. "I--I thought--that you had done it, my lord,"
he gasped.

Fox looked at him then, taking note of his fear, and put a comforting
hand upon his shoulder.

"Do not worry, Elan, it was a simple mistake," he reassured. "You will
not be punished, if that is your fear."

"But indeed, he should be!" Natalie glowered, for she felt that anything
that emerged from her kitchen reflected upon her, no matter who had done
the actual preparation.

"Nay, Natalie, he shall not be," Fox said firmly. "If I must speak to my
lady to prevent it, I shall. It was a simple mistake, most likely mine
own. I was ill abed when these menus and recipes were prepared, you
recall. It is quite conceivable that I simply wrote the amount
incorrectly."

Natalie took the paper, gazing at it thoughtfully for a moment. "I do
not believe that is what happened," she said at last, "but neither is
that Elan's handwriting. He is perhaps a dolt when it comes to measuring
peppers, but he did nothing with malicious intent."

"I am certain of it," Fox declared. "Serve the rest of the meal, and we
will simply forget the stew. Elan, think nothing more of this, it was
not your fault."

"Thank you, my lord Fox," Elan breathed gratefully, hurrying to empty
the rest of the offending stew into a garbage pail. Not even the animals
would eat such slop, he reflected as he took the stew pot outside to
rinse it at the pump.

Fox returned to the dining room, making light of the incident, and the
rest of the meal passed pleasantly, but he noticed Dana giving him odd
looks throughout.



Walter stared apprehensively at his wife as she closed the bedchamber
door quietly. She had excused them from the evening's socialization,
saying she wished only to spend a quiet evening with her husband,
leaving the younger people to entertain one another. Thus was the
privilege of age, she had smiled before taking his hand in a firm grasp
and leading him up the stairs after the two of them had shared an
intimate, early dinner.

Now, she was eyeing him speculatively, and he sighed. He had a choice,
he knew. He could either tell her now what she wished to know, escaping
the methods she planned to use in forcing the secret from him and enjoy
a good quiet night's rest, or he could hold out as long as he was able,
enduring the Goddess knew what until he finally revealed the story, but
enjoying the inevitable end result of her interrogation.

"Now Walter," she said patiently. "You know that I dislike secrets. You
are aware that you cannot simply dangle a juicy tidbit before me, as you
did earlier today, and expect me to simply disregard it. Indeed, I have
dwelt upon little else for the entire afternoon."

"Yes, my lady, I realize that," he nodded, his eyes downcast.

She removed her tunic, then her trousers, standing before him in nothing
more than the undergarment she favored beneath her casual clothing--a
concoction of lace and white silk that made his eyes widen and his
manhood take notice. Cursing his weakness, he bit his lip. He truly did
not wish to tell the story, for it had been a humiliating incident in
his life, and yet...as his wife, did she not deserve to know?

"Will you reveal the details now?" she asked, approaching him slowly,
"or must I persuade you further?"

"How will my lady go about persuading me?" he asked cautiously,
breathing heavily as he stared down into her lovely eyes.

She smiled coyly. "You must make your decision first," she informed him.
"Speak now, or speak later--you know I will not be deterred, Walter."

"I--" He took a deep breath, truly intending to reveal the story, and
found he could not release the words. "I'm sorry, my lady," he said
softly. "It is something of which I cannot speak."

It was her turn to sigh. "Very well, Walter. Undress and come to bed. It
is early yet, I know, but we are both gaining in years, and shall enjoy
the extra time for sleep."

So saying, she crawled beneath the coverlet while he stared at her, his
eyes wide with surprise--rarely did Maggie give up a quest so easily,
and he had not expected it this evening.

"Extinguish the candles, will you dear?" she yawned, turning on her side
and tucking the coverlet beneath her chin, and, still reeling in
astonishment at her apparent surrender, he did so.

He slipped quickly into his nightshirt, thanking the Goddess that Maggie
had decided to be merciful. But then, the moment he climbed into bed
beside her, he knew he had severely underestimated his wife.

"Now," she said briskly, snapping the metal armband around his right
wrist, hauling his arms above his head, and placing the matching band on
his left wrist. She hooked them together with a short chain she threaded
around the wooden headboard, and sat back to survey her handiwork in the
moonlight.

"Maggie, my lady--"

"You will not deny me what I wish to know, Walter," she interrupted, her
tender voice edged with the steel that reminded him that Maggie was,
after all, the matriarch of the Scully women.

"Will you torture me, then, until I break my promise and tell you?" he
asked sarcastically, jerking at the chain that held him captive, and
instantly regretted his words.

"I shall do nothing of the sort," she replied, reaching to re-light the
candles, then drawing the draperies carefully closed so that no
inquisitive person could possibly see into their chamber. "I merely wish
to have you inform me of the effectiveness of certain new...implements
my daughter brought me from London."

"Im--implements?" he stammered, watching wide-eyed as she crossed to a
drawer and removed a small bag. He stared as she withdrew several items,
laying them on the table beside the bed.

The first item she took up was a wicked-looking paddle, and Walter
swallowed hard when he recognized it. Such devices were designed
specifically with the punishment of wayward men in mind, and Lady Sharon
had owned one similar to this.

Walter was grateful he was lying on his back as Maggie approached him.
Her gentle smile would have been reassuring had it not been for the
instrument she carried.

"My lady, please..." he began as she drew near, but she merely shook her
head.

"Walter, a husband must trust his wife with all his secrets," she said
tenderly. "I expect you to do so with me, willingly or not."

She lay the paddle on the bed, reaching for the hem of his nightshirt,
and quickly slid it up to reveal his bare thigh. Then she retrieved the
paddle, and a moment later he yelped loudly as she rolled him onto his
side and swatted his hip with it.

"My lady!" he gasped, tugging reflexively at his bonds as he squirmed to
take his hip out of her reach. "That is simply vicious!"

"Vicious," she repeated thoughtfully, gazing at the paddle. "Thank you,
Walter. And now..." She assessed the implements remaining on the table,
picking up a particularly nasty looking cane.

His eyes widened with fear as she studied him, and she smiled again.
"Should you wish to avoid this trial, I shall listen to you," she
suggested, but he remained silent, closing his eyes and turning his head
away from the threatening cane.

"Very well," she continued, and he bit his lip as she quickly rolled him
onto his other side. Then as he choked back his scream, Maggie quickly
marked his other hip with a stripe of the cane.

"My lady, please," he begged, tears forming in his eyes as he chanced a
look up at her, hoping to find mercy. "It was a very long time ago, and
I have never told anyone of it. My lady would be bored and embarrassed."

"I should prefer to make that decision," she answered, replacing the
cane and taking up the last object. He had been unable to see what the
third implement was, and when she brought it into view, he began to
struggle wildly, already feeling his skin crawl.

"Not that!" he gasped, his eyes pleading with her as he attempted to
wriggle away from her. "My lady, I beg of you, not that!"

Maggie laughed, shaking her head in amusement at her husband. He could
endure the paddle and the cane, but a mere feather caused him to break
down and beg.

"You may end this at any time, Walter," she commented, stroking the tip
of the feather along the sole of his left foot and watching with
interest as he jerked it away.

She lay the feather down and retrieved two more bands, fitting them
quickly around his ankles, threading yet another chain through the bed's
footboard, and soon Walter was stretched helplessly on the bed, eyeing
the feather with horror.

She picked it up again, stroking it slowly up his leg toward his
awakening manhood, and he whimpered when the tip of it found his
sensitive sacs, probing at them gently.

"My lady, please, I beg of you--" he began again, but broke off with a
sharply indrawn breath when the feather began tickling the very tip of
his rod.

"As I remember, you said that Lady Sharon gambled..." Maggie prompted,
mercilessly attacking his most sensitive areas while he squirmed in a
fruitless effort to elude the torment.

"She--lost frequently--" he managed between barks of tortured laughter.
"Chess was not--her best game--"

"Lady Sharon lost a game of chess...that's hardly shameful." The feather
slipped beneath his nightshirt to stroke across his flat belly and then
further upwards, finding his sensitive nipples. His manhood stood
completely erect now, and he groaned as she leaned forward, blowing air
softly across it. He hungered for the feel of her sweet mouth around
him, but knew that pleasure would be denied him until he gave her what
she wanted.

"But she...she lost to Lady Selah Withers," he panted. "Maggie, please!"

"And the wager, Walter?" she questioned silkily, returning the feather
to his rod, stroking it slowly up the length of him, circling the tip,
and then teasing it back down until she found his sacs again. Walter
groaned, straining against his chains, his body covered with a fine
sheen of sweat, but he could not elude her.

"The wager--was--" She leaned over him again, and now instead of the
feather torturing him, it was the silky strands of her hair, touching
him with a touch that was barely there, tormenting him with a desire
greater than he had ever known. He could smell the soap she washed her
hair with, and the scent went straight to his groin, making an
uncomfortable situation even more desperate.

"Yes? The wager was...?"

"Me!" he gasped, arching up toward her mouth, moaning in frustration
when he did not find it. "The wager was me!"

She sat back, the game forgotten, staring at him in horrified shock.

"Do you mean to tell me," she questioned in a tightly controlled voice,
"that Lady Sharon actually wagered ownership of you on a game of chess?"

"Well...no, not ownership..." He was extremely upset by the memories
that came flooding back, but she was not about to allow him to stop now.

"What, then?"

"One night," he replied at last, turning his head away from her, as if
ashamed to allow her to see him, now that he had told her the story. She
grasped him by the chin and forced him to look in her eyes.

"She wagered a night with her husband, and she lost," she repeated, as
if to confirm the appalling truth to herself. Such wild wagers among the
younger nobility were not unheard of at court, or in London perhaps, but
were highly unusual here in the country. And no decent, true and
honorable lady would ever do such a thing to a poor defenseless man,
regardless of the game.

He nodded.

"And Lady Withers, what did she do?"

He bit his lip again, and flushed dark red, so dark she could clearly
see his discomfiture even in the candlelight. His eyes roamed about the
room--he was clearly embarrassed that she knew what had happened.

"She...took you?"

"Yes, my lady," he whispered, feeling the gut-wrenching shame even after
all these years. They had been very young when Lady Sharon had gambled
his favors away so foolishly, but he had never forgotten the feeling as
Lady Withers had led him away from his wife, to spend the night in her
chamber. When he had been returned to Lady Sharon, he had fallen upon
his knees, sobbing his humiliation into her lap, and had begged her
never to do such a thing again. She had gently stroked his hair, making
light of the incident, but she had never offered up her husband as a
wager in a game again--at least not so far as he knew. If she had done
so, she had not lost.

"Walter, you are my most precious possession," Maggie whispered, gently
releasing his wrists from the chain that held them. "I would never do
such a thing to you, never." She gathered him into her arms to comfort
him, and carefully stroked his back. "While I live, you need not worry
that I would ever suffer another woman to touch you."

"Thank you, my lady. It was--not an experience I soon forgot," he said
in a low voice.

"Indeed, you have not forgotten it yet," she observed, taking one of his
trembling hands in hers and bringing it to her lips for a comforting
kiss. "I should think the shame of such an event would never be forgotten."

"Perhaps my lady could remove the bitterness of the memory, at least for
tonight?" he suggested, glancing down at his still erect manhood.

Maggie smiled. "Indeed, my sweet Bear, I shall give it my best effort,"
she replied, reaching for him, and as she positioned herself above him
and slid his silken shaft into the depths of her womanhood, all thoughts
of Lady Sharon and her gambling losses were driven far from his mind.



Later that evening, after the meal had been cleared away, after Suzanne
and John had beaten them soundly at cards and all had retired to their
chambers, Dana stared at Fox in the mirror as she brushed out her hair.

He sat on the bed, removing his boots gratefully, flexing his feet in
their newfound freedom.

"Fox?" she said softly, and he rose and crossed to her, silently taking
the brush and beginning to stroke it through her hair. It had become a
nightly ritual, one he cherished.

When he made no sound, she continued. "Such a mistake is unlike you."

Fox shrugged, keeping his eyes downcast. "It is as I said, my lady. I
was ill, and not clear in my thinking. I am sorry for ruining your dinner."

She placed a hand gently upon his hip, stroking almost absently over his
pleasingly curved buttocks, enjoying the little sigh of pleasure he gave
at her touch.

"The dinner was not ruined, indeed, everything else was prepared to
perfection. You are a fine husband, Fox, and I am pleased with the way
you run my home."

He smiled, coloring a little at her praise.

"I merely question whether the mistake was truly yours. You are far too
kindhearted, Fox. I can picture you taking the blame for Elan in order
to save him from punishment."

"My lady, I assure you, the mistake was not Elan's," he answered
truthfully as he stared at her reflection in the mirror. Fox put down
the hairbrush, twining his fingers through her silky hair and pulling
her head back so that he could drop a kiss upon her lips. Dana allowed
him this liberty for a moment before her arms reached up to clasp around
his neck, taking command of him and of the kiss, deepening it until he
was nearly gasping against her.

"You have pleased me greatly this day, husband," she whispered against
his mouth. "Should you like to be atop me tonight?"

Mindful of his perfect-husband vow, Fox answered, "I wish only what you
wish, my lady."

She pulled away, standing to glare at him, her hands on her hips
menacingly. "And if I say I wish my wild, untamed Fox to return, what
say you then?" she demanded.

"I--I--what?" he asked, confused at her sudden change.

She gave an aggravated sigh. "Fox, you are entirely too malleable these
days. Ever since I made you spend that damned night in the dungeon, you
have been much too obedient for my tastes. Are you so afraid I might
send you back there?"

He stared at the floor, his hands clenched at his sides. "I am only
trying to be a good husband, my lady," he said tightly. "I have no wish
to displease you in any manner."

"And I have no wish to be married to a stranger!"

His head shot up and she caught the look of hurt on his face before he
masked it. "Am I to understand that you wish me to disobey you on
occasion?" he asked, deliberately leaving off the respectful 'my lady'
with which he normally addressed her.

Her face softened, but he was beyond reassurance in his hurt. "I only
wish you to be the man you are," she said gently. "Shy and mischievous
and wild and reserved and always coming up with a plan to drive me
berserk. I miss that about you. Had I wished for a perfect husband, I
should have found a silly, boring man raised in a convent."

He remained silent, unmollified, for her words had cut deeply. It was
simply too confusing. He had been trying so hard not to disgrace her, to
earn her affection, and now she was telling him she preferred him
flawed! What did she require of him?

Seeing that he was still angry, Dana approached him slowly, her eyes
promising much. She took him by the hand, looking up and down his entire
body with pride. He was beautiful, this husband of hers, never more
beautiful than when in the throes of passion, and that was how she
wanted to see him now.

"Come, Fox," she bid him gently. "If you are to be the perfect husband,
you must do as your lady commands."

"What is it you wish of me?" he asked stiffly, unwillingly allowing her
to pull him toward the bed.

"I wish you to make me scream with pleasure," she said seriously. "And
then I wish to do the same to you. I wish to hold you in my arms as we
fall asleep, and when we wake in the morning, I wish to find the untamed
Fox I married in my bed."

"My lady enjoys punishing me," he accused.

"It is the taming of you that I enjoy," she corrected, falling backwards
suddenly onto the bed, pulling him down atop her. "There are many
methods to employ when taming such a wild one as you, sweeting, and I
plan to enjoy them all. Now, I have offered to allow you to be atop me
tonight. If you do not wish it, I could always retrieve my scarves and
ribbon from the drawer and punish you with pleasure for your insolence.
I have not yet forgiven you for beating me at chess."

He laughed then, he simply couldn't help himself, remembering her
astonishment when he had checkmated her queen. She had glowered at him,
accusing him of using manly wiles to distract her thinking, then she had
taken him to bed and made slow, passionate love to him until the wee
hours of the morning. He had smiled all the next day.

"May I kiss you, my lady?" he asked, his face inches from hers, and she
smiled, happy to see his good humor restored.

"You may do as you wish," she whispered, and he lowered his mouth to
hers, taking her lips in a claiming kiss that was reminiscent of the way
she took his, teaching her what he had learned from her, and soon she
screamed her pleasure, and much more, for Fox had a passionate nature
beneath his shyness, one which she treasured above all other things.

It was going to be an interesting life...

End Chapter 8



Melissa took her leave the next morning, amid hugs and promises to write
often, for the sisters truly loved one another, in spite of their
differences.

"You must busy yourself finding a husband for me, Little Sister" she
told Dana teasingly. "One as fine as your Fox Cub would be most
delightful."

"Perhaps I shall, Elder Sister," Dana said, and Melissa saw a glint of
determination in her sister's blue eyes. With a hint of concern, she
wondered what plots Dana was busily hatching. Shaking her head slightly,
she hugged her mother, kissed the hands of Fox, Walter and John, and
bowed to Suzanne, telling her again what an honor it had been to make
her acquaintance.

After she had mounted her horse and ridden away, flanked on either side
by her military attachés and hounds, the family went back inside.

"It seems so quiet when she leaves," Maggie sighed. "I remember when the
four of you were children, Dana. Always screaming, fighting, laughing,
and very, very noisy. I remember once when you got your brother William
down and sat upon him, twisting his arms behind his back until he gave
you whatever it was you wanted from him. The two of you never got along
well."

"William was forever trying to rule me, Mother," Dana said firmly. "He
forgot that I was a woman and he merely a man, in his eagerness to point
out his greater number of years."

"Things were quite exciting when I first married your father, as well,"
Maggie revealed, smiling in fond remembrance. "He was inclined to try
and make decisions unsuited to his gender, and husbandly status. It did
not take me long to disabuse him of the notion that a small woman is a
weak woman. He truly thought his superior size made him my equal, the
silly man."

"How did you convince him otherwise, my lady?" asked Walter curiously.

Maggie's smile grew wider. "I simply introduced him the wife's best
friend, or as some call it, the rack," she said blithely, continuing
toward the salon.

Walter stopped short. "The--rack, my lady?" he asked, his mouth suddenly
dry.

Fox ventured, "I have read of such a torture device used in the previous
century. It was quite severe."

"This rack is meant for quite a different purpose, Fox," Maggie told him
gaily. "Reminiscent of your punishment with Thunder and the sugar water."

Fox blanched. "You mean..."

"The disobedient male is spread upon the rack, naked, tied tightly to
its corners, and then set upon by those who are to punish him," Dana
clarified. "They may use feathers, small twigs, their hands, or any
other device they choose."

"Please," Walter said, licking his lips nervously, "tell me this device
was destroyed in a flood, or chopped into firewood long ago, or has
perhaps collapsed to the ground, rotten with age and disuse."

"Indeed no," Maggie replied wickedly. "It is kept indoors, and is in
pristine condition. Although I must say, I never had to use it more than
once."

"Where?" both men asked at once.

"In Mother's hidden play room, of course," Dana answered, barely
containing her mirth at the husbands' consternation.

"A hidden PLAY room?" Walter demanded, while Fox merely gaped.

Suzanne could hold back no longer, and burst into guffaws of mirth,
wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. John, who had suspected all
along that Maggie and Dana were teasing their husbands, simply smiled
peacefully, content in the knowledge that his wife would never punish
him so severely.

Fox buried his face in his hands while Dana rubbed his back soothingly.
"There now, sweeting," she comforted, "we were only having a bit of fun
with you and Walter. The two of you take things so seriously sometimes."

"I--if you will excuse me, I must check on the luncheon preparations,"
he babbled, rising and bowing to the ladies before absenting himself
quickly from the room.

"Dana, that was unkind of you," Suzanne scolded, but Dana simply shrugged.

"He sometimes takes liberties," she answered nonchalantly, "and I enjoy
keeping him off-balance."

"I should say you do that very well," her friend replied with a giggle.
"He hasn't grown accustomed to those boots yet."

"But I do like the way his firm little bottom wiggles when he walks in
them," Dana answered solemnly, and Walter blushed while all three women
laughed until they were nearly ill.



The week passed quickly, days spent visiting, reliving old times,
telling the men of their past together, meals were taken without mishap,
and in the ensuing quiet fun, Fox almost forgot about Alex and his
threat. Now that the servants were forbidden to touch him or Walter,
they turned their attentions more forcefully to the male servants, and
as Alex was the prettiest and most desired prize of them all, he
received more than his share of their attentions.

Fox and John took long walks in the garden, sometimes accompanied by
Walter, and the three men grew to be fast friends.

On their last evening, Dana suggested the ladies go into town to visit
her friend Jeanne, who ran a gambling saloon and pleasure retreat.

Fox, intrigued at the idea of such a business, begged to be allowed to
accompany them, but Dana was firm in her refusal. "It is a rough place
after dark," she declared. "No decent man would be seen there, and your
beauty would certainly endanger you."

"You could protect me, my lady, as you always do," he pleaded, but Dana
was adamant.

"Hard and vulgar women will be there, along with men of uncertain
reputation," she replied. "It would not do for me to have to defend your
honor in a violent manner while I am entertaining guests. You and Walter
will stay at home with John. I trust the three of you will find a
satisfactory way to pass the time."

"Oh yes," John said, coming up behind Fox and taking his friend's arm.
"Do stay with me, Fox. I wish to obtain your fascinating recipe for
rabbit stew."

Fox rolled his eyes, then laughed with good-natured grace. Dana gave him
a quick goodbye pat on his behind, and the three women departed,
admonishing the men to behave themselves.

As soon as the door closed behind them, John rubbed his hands together
mischievously. "They will have their fun, and now we shall have ours as
well," he declared, and Fox and Walter stared at him suspiciously.

"Come to my chamber," John told them. "I have a bottle of brandy."

"Brandy? Real brandy?" Fox questioned, his eyes lighting up a bit at the
illicit suggestion. Men of polite society were allowed to drink liquor
only on rare occasions, and then only a very small portion. He had never
tasted brandy in his entire life. Both his mother and Dana had been very
strict with him about strong spirits. Left to his wife's direction, he
thought mutinously, he would probably never have the excitement of
tasting good French brandy on his tongue.

They followed John upstairs to the Blue Chamber, where he quickly passed
out small goblets which he filled with a dark amber liquid. Fox,
unsuspecting, took a large swallow, and both John and Walter clapped him
on the back while he coughed and sputtered. "Sweet Goddess, it burns!"
he gasped, and John laughed.

"Sip it slowly," he instructed, and the three men did just that, Fox a
rapt pupil to John's superior knowledge of all things sophisticated and
intoxicating.

The night wore on, and goblets were refilled several times, until at
last John picked up the brandy bottle and shook it sadly.

"'S'allgone," he mourned, and Walter made a 'tut-tut' sound with his
tongue.

"Guess we hafta go to bed," he slurred, setting down his goblet, but Fox
was not ready to give up his good time so soon.

He rose, steadied himself against the bedpost, then put his finger over
his lips. "Shhh," he said in an exaggerated whisper. "I'll b'ri'back."

He left the room, only occasionally reaching out to steady himself
against the wall, and Walter and John stared at each other solemnly as
they waited for his return. It was only a few minutes before he
reappeared, clutching a small cut-glass decanter carefully in both hands.

"Here sh'is," he said brightly, setting it down in the middle of the
table, and John unsteadily poured them all another drink from Dana's
prized hoard of rare Empress Josephine Brandy.

The laughter grew louder, the jokes grew sillier, and the decanter grew
emptier as the night wore on. Alex, hearing the ruckus, poked his head
through the door, saw the three men growing drunker and drunker, and
smiled as he silently withdrew. Lord Fox would most surely be punished
for this little misdeed.

Alex had grown greatly tired of being the plaything of the servants
night after night, although they did allow him some pleasure of release.
He had taken to sleeping in a corner of the attic, and had thus far not
been discovered. As he climbed the stairs, he heard the laughter from
the three men in the Blue Chamber growing more raucous, and sneered to
himself. "Soon, Lord Fox," he murmured. "Very soon."



The three women arrived home in good spirits, having come away from the
village with a goodly amount of winnings for the evening. Maggie had
insisted they limit themselves to one tankard of ale apiece, and in
doing so, they had retained their wits while their opponents had slowly
lost theirs as the evening wore on and the drink flowed more freely.

"Lady Maggie, I do enjoy a good mug of ale, or two or three, and I adore
gaming," Suzanne commented as they entered the mansion, "but I must say,
your method of separating the two has admirable results."

"Indeed," Maggie agreed. "My own mother always taught me--either plan to
drink or game, but never both at the same time. It is a very simple
lesson, and one that few women stop to consider, since drinking and
gaming seem to go hand in hand." She thought of Lady Sharon, having
wagered Walter away for an evening, and wondered if that woman had
imbibed heavily before the bet had been placed. She could not fathom any
other reason for Lady Sharon to take such a chance with a prize like
Walter, and it had obviously hurt him deeply. If Lady Sharon was not
already cold in the ground, Maggie vowed, she would have taken great
delight in beating her senseless for such a foolish action.

"There is another benefit to remaining sober, Mother," Dana added,
casting her glance upward as they began to climb the stairs.

"And what is that, Daughter?" questioned Maggie with a knowledgeable
glance.

Dana smiled wickedly. "I shall not be too impaired to show my husband
just how much I have missed his company this evening," she grinned, and
the other ladies chortled in agreement.

Lady Maggie entered the massive doors that led to the West Wing while
Dana and Suzanne departed in the opposite direction, calling goodnights
and making plans to meet quite early for breakfast.

As soon as Dana pushed open the doors to the East Wing, they could hear
the laughter coming from the end of the corridor. All the rooms were
dark except for the Blue Chamber, where light much too bright to emanate
from simple candles spilled from the open doorway. It was from there
that the noise originated.

The fireplace had been lit, and in the warm summer weather, the heat in
the room was almost unbearable. Fox stood unsteadily with his back to
the hearth, Dana's battle sword clutched between his hands. Walter
snored softly in the armchair while John, who had taken Suzanne's sword
from its sheath, was waging an excellent duel with his own shadow, which
flickered against the wall.

"Fox, I believe you're being attacked!" he shouted, throwing a feather
pillow toward his friend. Fox raised Dana's sword and swung clumsily at
the pillow, slicing it open with a lucky aim before it could land in the
fire, scattering feathers about to join the ones from the pillow John
had already murdered.

The women stared, scandalized at the scene before them, for several
seconds before they were noticed.

"Oh dear," Fox said clearly, staring wide-eyed at his wife and her
companion. "I t'ink 'm in trouble."

"Yesss, none left...all gone," agreed John mournfully as he took another
lunge at his shadow, slicing dangerously near where Fox stood.

Dana's eyes fell on the crystal decanter in the center of the table, and
she sighed. It was the last of the brandy Melissa had brought her from
France. She had been hoarding the precious liquid, allowing herself only
a tiny bit every few weeks, for it was far superior to the brandy that
could be purchased in the village. Now it was gone, and she stared into
the glazed eyes of her husband.

"Maggie?" Walter questioned, starting awake suddenly and eyeing the
empty doorway.

"You, stay where you are," Dana commanded, shoving a sleepy Walter back
into his chair.

Suzanne quickly relieved John of her sword, responding with irritation
to his silly smile as she helped him over to sit on the bed.

"I have a bit of a sickness," he confided to her in a loud whisper. "Do
you think we could be expecting a child at last?"

"I doubt it," Suzanne corrected, placing her hand over his mouth and
glancing worriedly at Fox--she wasn't certain how much her friend's
husband knew of pregnancy yet, but now definitely wasn't the time to
discuss such matters.

"Oh," John replied, disappointed, and Suzanne reached down to tug at his
boots.

"You need to get into bed," was all she said as she began to undress him
slowly. He sat there limply while she removed his shirt and slipped a
nightshirt over his head.

"Fox Mulder Scully, come with me," Dana ordered brusquely, snatching her
sword from his hands and turning on her heel to stride out of the room.
She glanced back a moment later, furious to discover that he was not
following, and found him clinging to the wall for support.

"I'm sorry, m' lady. The floor in this room 's quite uneven," he
explained to her seriously in response to her angry glare. "I canno'
understand why I have never noticed it b'fore."

Dana took his arm, pulling him against her so she could help support
him. "Come to bed," she commanded. "We shall discuss your behavior in
the morning."

"Yes, Dana. I 'pologize for the uneven floor," he called over his
shoulder to Suzanne and John as Dana pulled him from the room.

Just as they entered the corridor, Maggie appeared, her face tight with
concern. "Have you seen Walter? He isn't in bed, and he certainly should
be, at this hour," she asked before stopping short to stare at her
obviously inebriated son-in-law. "Well, I begin to understand," she
answered herself in a voice that was full of exasperation.

Dana jerked her head toward Suzanne's chamber, and Maggie entered to
find Walter leaning over the table, having fallen fast asleep again.

"Walter Scully, wake up," she said sternly, shaking his shoulder. He
raised his head slowly and stared at her with bloodshot eyes.

"Maggie?"

"Yes, it's Maggie, and you, husband, are in a great deal of trouble."

Walter cooperated as his wife pulled him to his feet and dragged him by
a firm grip on his ear back toward their bedchamber. When they entered
the corridor, he glared at Fox, who surely had instigated this disaster.

"Sorry 'bout the uneven floor," Fox apologized again as Dana shoved him
inside their chamber and shut the door. "I shall request that it be
r'paired immed--immed--t'morrow," he told Dana as she led him toward
their bed.

"I suspect you will find it has righted itself by morning," she told him
firmly, tugging his clothing from his body.

When he was naked, she covered him carefully, noting with a smile of
fond exasperation that he was already asleep, then disrobed and climbed
into bed beside him. She pulled him into her arms, and found that before
she could say a word, Fox was snoring soundly.

It was no matter, she told herself. Tomorrow was soon enough for him to
face the music.



When morning arrived, Fox rolled over slowly, groaning as the bright
sunlight hit his eyes. He closed them hastily, wincing at the daggers of
pain slicing through his head.

"What's happening to me?" he muttered, swallowing hard in an attempt to
lubricate his dry mouth. His tongue felt swollen, and he was certain his
words were slurred. He enunciated very carefully so as to be understood.
"Dana? I think I'm dying."

"You are not dying, Fox," his wife replied from the doorway of their
chamber, "but you will wish you had once I have finished with you. This
is a lesson I do not plan to repeat."

"Lesson, my lady?" he whispered, clutching at his aching head in a
desperate attempt to drive out the pain. "What did I do?"

"What did you do?" she echoed in disbelief. She crossed to him and sat
carefully on the side of the bed, placing the mug she carried on the
bedside table. "You, Walter and John drank your way through my last
decanter of French brandy, among other things."

He slitted his eyes open carefully. "Are you certain, my lady? I don't
recall doing such a thing." Fox suddenly remembered Alex and his threat.
Surely the servant had done this, and he was expected to take the
punishment! Still feeling somewhat uninhibited from the alcohol level in
his body, he muttered, "No. Alex did this to us. I know he did."

Dana stared. "Alex? That trollop?" she demanded carefully. "What has he
to do with anything?"

"He's--" Fox stopped short, suddenly realizing what he had said. "Never
mind, my lady."

"Never mind indeed," she retorted. "I am uncertain for what you are
attempting to blame Alex--the condition in which you find yourself now
or the fact that my brandy is gone."

"My lady...I don't feel very well," he announced suddenly, hoping for
enough sympathy to take her mind off his stupid blunder.

"I'm not surprised," Dana commented. "Here." She slipped her arm beneath
his head and gently raised it, ignoring his protests, then brought the
mug to his lips. "Drink this potion. It will cure both the headache and
the sickness."

He obediently took a sip, grimacing at the vile taste, and swallowed the
rest reluctantly when Dana did not seem inclined to pull it away.

"That is disgusting," he complained, and she smiled in anticipation.

"I agree, but it is most effective."

He lay still in the bed for several minutes, feeling his illness grow
until at last, he bolted from the bed toward the chamber pot and emptied
his stomach of its contents.

"I thought you said it would help me!" he protested weakly when at last
he collapsed to the floor.

"It did," she replied calmly. "It is a most efficacious purge. Do you
not feel better?"

He tried his best to glare at her, but his look was more imploring than
ferocious. Reaching down, Dana helped him to his feet and got him back
into bed.

"My head still hurts," he moaned, snuggling beneath the coverlet.

In response, Dana drew the curtains over the windows and wet a washing
cloth, placing it gently upon his brow. She sat beside him on the bed
and stroked her fingers soothingly through his hair, over and over,
until she felt him begin to relax.

Eventually, he fell into a light sleep, and Dana quietly left the room.
She descended to the dining room and found her mother and Suzanne
already there, just beginning their breakfast.

"Good morning," she greeted them as she slipped into her chair and
waited to be served.

"How is Fox?" both women asked at once, and then laughed.

"Sleeping, after having expelled the contents of his stomach quite
violently," she replied.

"Only once?" Maggie inquired with a slight smile, and Dana nodded. "Then
he was lucky. Walter was repeatedly ill throughout the night. He is also
sleeping, at last, and I thought it would be a good time to feed myself.
Certainly he would not tolerate the smell of food well this morning."

"John was ill all night as well," Suzanne reported.

"They will suffer more when the physical results of their folly are
past," Maggie said grimly, and Dana nodded agreement.

"You'll punish them, then?" asked Suzanne.

Dana stared. "Of course! Surely even you must agree that discipline is
warranted after such an action?"

Suzanne smiled fondly, thinking of the sleeping man in her bed. "I
believe the result of the folly to be its own punishment. All three men
have learned a lesson, I expect."

"Really, Suzanne, a lesson like this one requires reinforcement," Maggie
put in. "I know this from my own experience as a wife. Men are the
weaker sex, and easily tempted. It is the duty of a Lady to correct her
husband when necessary, and improve upon his behavior."

"Perhaps," Suzanne replied quietly. "However, I consider John to be an
adult, and responsible for his own actions."

Maggie nodded, smiling slightly. "I know you do, my dear," she said
gently. "You must deal with your husband as you see fit. However," she
announced, rising and placing her napkin beside her plate, "Walter is
old enough to have known better, and as such requires a much more
forceful hand. If you ladies will excuse me, I'd best see to him. I
don't want him to awaken alone while he is still ill."

Dana glanced at her mother's retreating back in amusement. Awaken alone
indeed; it was clear that Lady Maggie held very tender feelings for her
husband, no matter how strict a disciplinarian she might be.

"So you really won't punish John in any way for last night's debacle?"
Dana asked, turning back to her friend and sipping at her tea.

Suzanne shook her head, smiling. "You knew that I would not. How long
have we been friends, Dana?"

"Long enough for me to know I should never question you," Dana replied
with an answering smile. Both women finished their breakfast quickly,
hurrying upstairs to see to their husbands.

Because of John's condition, the Modeskis were forced to delay their
departure until late afternoon, when he at last felt well enough to travel.

"I am sorry, my lady," he told Suzanne sincerely as they drove away
slowly in the carriage, the driver mindful of his Lordship's delicate
stomach. "I did not mean for this to happen."

"My dear," Suzanne said gently, placing a tender kiss upon his forehead,
"the next time you wish to indulge in spirits, perhaps you should make
certain there is a more experienced drinker beside you. I would be an
excellent choice."

He nodded, settling gratefully into her arms, and was soon lulled to
sleep by the motion of the carriage.



After their friends had disappeared down the drive, Fox turned slowly to
his wife.

"My lady," he said in a quavering voice, "what will be my punishment?"

"Hmmm," she said, pretending to consider. "Perhaps Mother and I should
discuss this. After all, you and Walter are both equally guilty in this
indiscretion."

"I quite agree," Maggie said from behind them. "Walter, go upstairs to
our bedchamber and wait for me. You will remain there throughout the
supper hour, and afterwards, I shall inform you of what your punishment
shall consist."

"My lady--please--not the--not the rack!" Walter stammered, his brown
eyes desperate behind his spectacles. "I beg of you, please--"

"Walter, upstairs. Now. Dana and I shall decide together what the two of
you deserve. Now go," Maggie answered firmly.

Fox, after a confirming glance at Dana and a small sigh, followed Walter
up the stairs.

"What do you think they'll...?" Walter asked quietly as they neared the
landing.

"Well, I don't believe such a rack really exists," Fox said staunchly,
despite his personal doubts, as he turned toward the East Wing. "I think
it was an invention Lady Maggie dreamed up to frighten you."

"But how can you be sure?" Walter fretted.

"Boys! To your rooms!" called Dana from below, and both men scurried
toward their respective chambers immediately.

Walter sat, staring blankly at the wall, his hands clenched tightly in
his lap, while Fox paced the length and breadth of his chamber as the
ladies enjoyed a leisurely supper.

"How long should we let them stew?" Dana inquired as she sipped at the
wine in her goblet.

"At least another two hours," Maggie replied. "If I know Walter, he will
be busily tying his stomach up into frantic knots as he waits."

Dana giggled. "Fox will be wearing tread marks in our floor," she
confided. "Poor dears. What shall their punishment be?"

"Well..." Maggie mused. "The dungeon?"

Dana shuddered. "I do not believe I could bear to send Fox there again.
In truth, Mother, I acted in anger that night, and haste makes regret.
Punishment should not be undertaken in the heat of the moment."

Maggie smiled. "I have no wish to banish Walter to that place either.
Surely, though, you must agree this misdeed warrants more than a simple
purge?"

"I do," Dana mused. "But there is a more effective choice. Tell me,
Mother, what punishment does Walter fear most?"

"Why, the rack, of course, that silly boy," Maggie laughed. "Did you not
hear the trembling in his voice when he inquired of it?"

"Then perhaps you should give him Lady Maggie's version of the rack in
the privacy of your chamber."

Maggie wrinkled her brow, staring thoughtfully into space for a minute.
"Walter does hate being tickled more than anything," she commented.
"Yes, that might be quite effective." Raising an eyebrow at her
daughter, she went on, "And Fox?"

"Punishment by pleasure," Dana said promptly. "And tonight, I am not
inclined to allow him to find his release."

"Quite right. Well," said Maggie briskly, rising from the table with a
determined air, "it seems we are decided. And now, in the interest of
effective discipline, may I interest you in a game of chess?"

Dana readily agreed, and after several rounds at which the women were
almost evenly matched, Maggie taking the miniature tournament by one
game, the women headed up to confront their men.



"Walter?" Maggie inquired as she entered their chamber. "Have you been
thinking over your misdeed with Dana's brandy?"

Walter nodded miserably, his eyes fixed on his wife, hoping for her
mercy this evening. "I am sorry, my lady. I am older than both Fox and
John, and should have been more responsible," he began, but she held up
a hand to silence him.

"I have no doubt of your repentance, my dear," she said quietly.
"However, actions such as yours cannot go unpunished."

He said nothing, knowing she was correct but reluctant to agree to his
own doom. Perhaps, he told himself, if he was properly penitent, he
could avoid some horrible punishment. Truly, Walter told himself, the
illness he had suffered the night before had been its own foul consequence.

"My lady," be implored, sliding off the chair and sinking to his knees
before her, "please, I beg of you, show me mercy."

Maggie stared down at the man at her feet, and her hands went
involuntarily to caress the nearly bald head. He was so precious, this
husband of hers, and he had been horribly ill-used by his previous wife.
Would it be so bad, truly, to allow him to escape punishment just this
once? Would anyone know, or care, that she had failed to discipline her
husband for his misbehavior?

"Walter," she sighed at last. "I am entirely too soft-hearted where you
are concerned."

Walter took her hands in his own and began covering them with light
kisses. "Does this mean I shall receive your mercy?" he asked between
tender caresses.

Maggie smiled warmly down at him. "Not mercy, perhaps, but leniency."

Walter froze, still holding her hands. "Leniency?" he echoed faintly.

She nodded firmly. "I shall give you a choice. You may either spend the
morning with Thunder and the sugar water, or you may remove your
clothing now, lean over the bed and receive six strokes of my paddle."

He swallowed hard. The new paddle was vicious, but surely six quick
strokes was preferable to becoming a breakfast treat for that damned
horse. Besides, after his spanking, Maggie was almost certain to take
him to bed and love him senseless. It was her way.

"My lady is most fair," he said softly, gazing up at her with adoration
he could not conceal, even now when about to receive discipline at her
hand. "I should prefer the paddle to the sugar water."

"I thought you would," she said kindly. "Remove your clothing at once,
and bend over the bed."

Walter obeyed immediately, burying his face in the coverlet as he lay
across the foot rail of the bed, his bare bottom exposed to the room.
Occasionally it would quiver in anticipation, an action Maggie found
utterly delightful.

She took her time removing her own clothing, dressing in a soft robe,
brushing her hair out slowly, then removing the paddle from the drawer
and approaching him.

Walter, who had heard the drawer open and knew that his pain was only
moments away, tensed up nervously, but Maggie stroked his back with
long, soft caresses, whispering endearments to him until he began to relax.

"Now, only six, my dear," she comforted as she stood back and prepared
to administer his discipline. "I expect you to count them for me."

"Yes, my lady," he replied, his voice muffled by the coverlet, but his
sharp shriek penetrated the manor house when the first stroke of the
paddle landed upon his upturned bottom.

"Count, Walter," she reminded, and he gasped out the number desperately,
clutching at the coverlet with his fists, determined not to scream again.

The second stroke fell just above the first, leaving a line of fire in
its wake, and Walter choked back a sob as he counted. "Two!"

"Three!" he gasped after the next one, and Maggie stopped to caress his
back some more.

"You are doing superbly, my Bear," she soothed. "I'm quite proud of you.
You are halfway finished."

He nodded, wiping his tears on the coverlet as he prepared himself for
the next stroke.

"F-four!" He gritted his teeth, holding back a scream by sheer force of
will, and Maggie watched him proudly. He was strong, this husband of
hers, and worthy of the Scully name.

The next stroke fell across his thighs, and seemed to drive all the
breath from his body. Maggie waited patiently while he gasped for air,
muttering, "Five," before she delivered the final stroke across the
fleshiest part of the beautiful bottom before her.

"Six," he sobbed, covering his face with his hands to hide the hated
tears that he was no longer able to hold back.

Maggie returned the paddle to its place, then doused the candle and
slipped off the robe she wore.

"There, now," she murmured, helping him climb beneath the coverlet and
keeping the fabric carefully away from his sore backside. "It is over,
and you are my brave Bear. Come, let me hold you now."

Walter snuggled gratefully into Maggie's comforting arms, then found his
entire body growing as warm as his bottom when she began to nip and kiss
her way toward his rapidly awakening manhood.

"Maggie!" he gasped as she took him entirely into her mouth, and she
drew back, giving him a reproving glare in the moonlight.

"Be quiet, Walter," she said with mock severity. "You are mine, and I
wish to entertain myself with you."

"Yes, my lady," he said obediently, a huge smile settling on his face as
she took him inside her mouth again.

Walter hoped it would be a very long night.



Fox, on the other hand, was praying to the Goddess that She would allow
the night to end quickly. Dana, after tormenting him with nothing more
than her words and the tip of a plume pen for what seemed like hours,
had played with his body unmercifully ever since. She had already taken
her pleasure of him twice, and Fox felt certain he would explode
inwardly if she did not allow him his release soon. Biting his lip
firmly, Fox vowed to bravely endure the rest of his punishment, even if
it lasted all night.



Fox rose from the bathing tub, wrapping a drying towel about his waist,
and glanced at his wife as she patted the bed beside her.

"Come here," she instructed, "and lie down."

He approached her warily, confused at her command, and gave a small gasp
when she grabbed the towel and whisked it away. She grinned wickedly as
she indicated the bed, and he lay upon it as she ordered, wondering if
she was about to tie him down again.

"Please, my lady, I--"

"Hush!" she ordered, reaching for his limp manhood. She took it in her
skillful hands, ignoring his moans, and soon had it standing proudly
erect. "You shall not reach your release even yet," she told him firmly,
and began winding the ribbon around him again.

"Dana...please..." he begged, but she finished her task resolutely. She
bound the ribbon more loosely about him this morning, but still tightly
enough that he knew he would maintain at least a partial state of
arousal for some time.

"If you behave yourself this morning, I shall reward you after luncheon.
Now come, Fox, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise, my lady?" he asked eagerly, the ribbon all but forgotten in
his child-like delight.

To his immense relief, she handed him a pair of loose breeches to wear,
instead of the tightly cut ones she normally preferred, which would have
revealed his excited state to all. His shirt also hung loosely, cut
almost to the waist, but flowing freely around his hips, falling just
below his buttocks in length. At least in these clothes, he could
maintain some privacy.

Fox found his muscles were stiff and sore from the night's activities,
but her talk of a surprise motivated him to hasten. "What is it?" he
continued as they left their chamber and started downstairs.

"Today I shall take you into the village," she answered pleasantly. "You
did win our chess match ten days ago, remember, and I promised you this."

Fox, who had forgotten her promise in the ensuing bustle of guests, not
to mention Alex's threats, gave a happy smile in return.



"Poor sweet Samantha, I've neglected you lately, haven't I?" Fox
crooned, allowing the mare to nuzzle against his neck. "I shall give you
more attention in the future, my darling."

"I should like to have your portrait painted," Dana told him, staring
down at the two of them from astride Thunder's back. "You with Samantha.
It is a beautiful sight, to see the two of you together."

"Must I, my lady?" he asked, swinging up onto Samantha's back. "I detest
having my portrait done. Standing still for hours posing for an artist
must be the most boring thing I've ever had the misfortune to do."

"We shall see," she commented mildly as they started toward the village.
"Perhaps I shall describe the pose I wish, and have Lady Gainesborough
do it from her imagination. She is quite talented."

Fox sighed inwardly with relief and they rode toward the village in
companionable silence.



Jeanne, Dana's friend, was the most fascinating individual Fox had ever
had the good fortune to meet. She was a large woman, quite buxom, full
of good cheer, very motherly, and she wrapped Fox in an embrace upon
being introduced to him.

"I'm so happy to meet ye, Lord Scully," she cooed, giving him an extra
squeeze for good measure before releasing him. "Dana, he's fair skin and
bones! Have ye not been feeding this boy?"

"I feed him, Jeanne," Dana laughed, embracing the older woman fondly.

"Ah, then you're workin' it off him, are ye? Too much pleasure, is it,
young man?" She slapped Fox heartily on the back and gave him a bawdy
wink, and he blushed. Even one as innocent as he could not mistake her
meaning.

"Have you customers now, Jeanne?" Dana asked, and Jeanne shook her head.

"Not now, my dear, they won't be in before lunch, most likely. Your Fox
looks like a curious sort."

She smiled at the young Lord Scully, who was trying desperately to peek
inside the doors of the saloon.

'Azure Tavern,' proclaimed the sign above his head, and then in smaller
letters, 'Ale and Gaming.' Fox was dying to see the inside of a gaming
saloon. He was fascinated at the idea of a business making a livelihood
from games of chance.

"Inside with ye, young Fox," Jeanne urged, shooing him toward the door.
"My husband, Richard, is behind the bar. He'll show ye around to your
heart's content. Go on, now."

Fox glanced anxiously at Dana and, receiving an encouraging nod from
her, disappeared immediately through the door. Once inside the dim
building, he stopped short, his eyes wide as saucers, taking in his
surroundings.

The room was much larger than it had seemed from the outside, and dart
boards lined one wall. Behind the throwing area sat two billiards
tables, and dotting the rest of the room, small tables for other games
of chance. The tables containing dice, cards and chess boards were
small, with room to seat four people, but toward the back were three
others, longer tables, slightly taller, with no chairs, which Fox found
quite puzzling. Across the back wall, spanning nearly the entire width
of the room, was a long counter with wooden stools lining it, and behind
the counter stood a man, leaning on one elbow, carefully writing in a
ledger.

"Hullo?" asked the man in surprise when he saw Fox staring curiously
around. "Can I help you, son?"

"My name is Fox, Lord Scully the Younger," Fox said, approaching the
counter and holding out his hand for the older man to clasp in greeting.

"You're Lady Dana's husband?" he asked, his face lighting up with a
bright smile. "Welcome, my boy, welcome!"

"My lady wife is outside," Fox explained, and Richard nodded. "She
promised me I could visit," he went on eagerly. "It's quite interesting."

"Well, my boy, decent young men like yourself are usually not to be
found in places like this. It simply ain't proper."

"I don't care if it's proper, it's quite fascinating," Fox answered,
looking around curiously. "Besides, you seem a decent man, and you're
here."

"Ah, but I'm not of the Nobility," Richard clarified, and Fox shrugged.

"Our Goddess created us all, did She not?" he asked, and Richard
immediately decided the boy was of excellent quality.

"What are those large tables for?" Fox asked curiously.

Richard's face clouded, and he ignored the question. "Let me show you
how some of the games of chance work," he invited. "Do you play dice?"

Fox shook his head, watching in wonder as Richard opened a small box
containing several sets of ivory dice.

"The simplest way is to roll for an agreed upon number," he told Fox,
shaking a pair of the dice loosely in his hand. "For instance, if we
determine the number of our game to be ten, each of us would roll, and
whichever rolled a number closest to ten without going over would be the
winner."

"What would they win?" Fox asked curiously, and Richard laughed.

"I've seen just about everything wagered in my day, son," he boasted.
"Anything from tankards of ale to a man."

Fox's brow furrowed. "A man?" he repeated in disbelief. "You
mean...for...?"

Richard nodded.

"What kind of a lady would wager her man?" Fox demanded, angry at the
injustice of such a suggestion. Certainly a lady had a legal right to do
such a thing, but still...it was just...wrong.

"The kind of men being wagered are not strangers to such doings, Fox,"
Richard explained kindly. "Nor are the ladies who are wagering them."

Fox shook his head in disbelief. Such a lifestyle was incomprehensible
to him, with his sheltered upbringing.

"Do the customers only wager against one another?" he asked.

"Oh no, most often times they wager against the house," Richard replied.
"We have special..er, people who work here. Their jobs are to run the
games of chance."

"But how do you stay in business?" Fox was astonished that a saloon
could keep from going broke, with all the talented gamers in the land.

Richard gave a secretive smile. "We have our little tricks," he confided.

Before Fox could ask more questions, Dana entered the room.

"Fox, we must be going if we are to visit the shops," she called. "I
wish to buy you a new shirt to replace the one that was torn last night."

Fox blushed again as he remembered how his shirt was torn, but he bowed
to Richard and thanked him for the tour.

"Come back any time your lady allows," Richard told him, giving him
another friendly hand clasp before they departed.



They spent the rest of the morning touring the shops in the village,
where Dana bought Fox several outfits of clothing and another earring to
change for the one he wore.

"I love it, my lady," he said, staring at the small diamond she
presented him with, "but my favorite will always be the one with the
Scully symbol."

"As it should be," she replied, raising his right hand to her lips and
gently kissing the finger that bore her marriage ring. "And now, let us
head for home. I am growing quite hungry."

"Perhaps we could have lunch at the saloon?" he suggested eagerly, but
Dana shook her head.

"I know you would enjoy that," she told him, "but at this time of day
there is likely to be a large crowd of the village women there. I should
not like to be called upon to defend your honor. Some of them are rather
forward, even with a Lady present."

Fox nodded demurely, swallowing his disappointment. Dana had been kind
to him this day, which he did not feel he deserved after keeping his
secret from her, and he did not wish to trouble her further.

"Let us go home, have some luncheon, and then perhaps a nice long nap in
our bed," she said, giving him a wicked smile, and Fox nodded eagerly.

"My lady, will you allow me--that is--may I--" he asked breathlessly as
they rode toward home.

She laughed at his discomfiture. "I intend to make you scream with
pleasure, sweeting," she assured him, and he ducked his head to hide his
reddened face, even as he smiled in anticipation.

They were riding through the forest, up the long hill that led to Scully
Manor, when a flock of starlings, startled by the noise they made,
alighted from a tree and ascended to the skies. Fox watched them fly, a
look of sheer pleasure on his face that took Dana's breath away. His
graceful neck beckoned her as he leaned his head back to watch the
winged creatures, and Dana felt her hunger for him suddenly grow
unbearable.

"Follow me," she commanded brusquely, turning Thunder off the well-worn
path and heading into the forest.

Fox, confused but unafraid, obeyed immediately, and after a good ten
minutes' ride, they came to a small clearing, the ground lined with soft
moss and the sunlight barely peeking through the trees which formed a
canopy overhead.

Dana slid off Thunder's back and tethered him lightly to a nearby bush,
and Fox followed suit with Samantha. His eager eyes took in the clearing
with delight.

"It's beautiful here, my lady," he whispered.

She was unable to tear her eyes from her husband's fine form, oblivious
to the natural wonder of the clearing.

"You are beautiful, sweeting," she said huskily.

Fox glanced at her, surprised by her tone, and felt himself begin to
grow warm at the way her eyes raked him up and down, the way her tongue
darted out to moisten her red lips.

"Dana?" he asked uncertainly, his natural shyness momentarily shadowing
his desire for her.

"We are on Scully land, Fox. No one would dare trespass. We shall remain
unobserved." As she spoke, she reached up and ran her finger slowly down
the bare skin revealed by his shirt, and he shivered. She smiled
seductively, hooked her fingers in the fabric and began to unfasten the
few barriers between herself and his naked chest.

His breathing grew noticeably heavier as she removed his shirt, pulling
it slowly down his shoulders and slipping it off him, dropping it
carelessly to the ground. He felt himself growing impossibly hard inside
his breeches, and hoped she would not torture him with a long wait
before satisfying him--the previous night had been deliciously terrible.

In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, Fox grasped her roughly by the
arms and pulled her to him for a passionate kiss, one which left both of
them reeling by the time he finally released her.

"Remove my clothing," she ordered, a strange glint in her eye, and Fox
grasped the tunic she wore and yanked it roughly over her head,
revealing her golden breasts in the early afternoon sun.

"You are beautiful as well, my lady," he murmured, pulling her to him
again as he nuzzled her soft skin with his mouth, taking one rosy nipple
between his lips and teasing it until he heard her gasp.

He drew back, afraid he had overstepped himself, and heard her say
breathlessly, "Continue!"

He complied, kissing her breasts, stroking them with his tongue, until
she began to moan. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she hooked her leg behind his
knees and brought him to the ground, cushioning his fall as much as
possible, and was soon straddling him. He pressed himself against her
almost involuntarily, completely overcome with need for her.

Dana pinned his wrists to the ground beside his head and ravaged his
mouth with a kiss that left him dizzy. When she finally released his
lips, her tongue worked its way down until she found his own nipples,
stroking over them repeatedly until he thought he would lose his mind in
a frenzy of lust. At last, he could endure her teasing no longer, and
exerting all his strength, he rolled her over until he was the one
sitting atop her. She gazed up at him with eyes glazed over by desire.

"A temporary exchange of power in a marriage might be a good thing," she
whispered huskily, and that was the only permission he required.

Reaching his hands to the fastener that held her trousers together, he
quickly rid her of them, holding her down with his superior size as he
proceeded to drive her simply wild with his tongue, lips, teeth, hands,
while his lower body ground suggestively against hers. Dana wrapped her
legs around him, holding him against her tightly, while she closed her
eyes, threw back her head and began emitting small mewling sounds--she
seemed beyond coherent speech at that point.

"Do you want me to take you, my lady?" he asked, his voice slightly
taunting as his manhood, still trapped in his breeches, tormented her
naked woman's flesh. "Do you wish me to drive my rod inside you, impale
you with my manhood, make you scream your pleasure to the forest?"

"Yes!" she panted. "Take me, Fox, take me now, or I shall surely make
you regret it!"

He halted his movements immediately. "Ah, but Dana, we have exchanged
power," he teased. "I am in command of you now. You are my lady, to do
with as I please, and right now, I please to kiss you."

He lowered his mouth to hers, plundering it as thoroughly as she had
ever done to his, nipping lightly at her lips before plunging his tongue
deep inside, claiming her, setting his mark upon her as she had done so
often with him. His hands reached up to stroke her breasts lightly, then
he pinched her nipples and she bucked against him in frantic desire.

He released her breasts and slowly stroked his fingers down her flesh,
tickling her gently, until he reached her woman's mound. He began
caressing her lightly, and soon she was struggling in earnest, desperate
not to free herself from him, but to release him from his breeches and
take him inside her.

He laughed lazily, pulling her hands away, and held her wrists together
as he kissed his way down her belly toward her female flesh. Dana gasped
aloud as his mouth found her, his tongue stroking her slowly at first,
lightly, then with more speed and pressure, occasionally dipping inside
her, then returning to find the nub of her desire again and again. She
writhed frantically on the soft moss that was their bed, at once
attempting to pull away from the tormenting mouth and drive herself
further into it, until at last she found her screaming, shattering
release, clutching at thin air while his hands still held hers, bucking
against him until she was simply exhausted, light-headed, and completely
satisfied.

He allowed her to catch her breath while he quickly removed his
breeches, tugging at the knot that bound the ribbon around him until his
manhood was freed, and then he was back, atop her yet again, this time
ready to take his own pleasure. He forced her legs above her head,
throwing them over his strong shoulders, and drove into her in one long
stroke, enjoying the wail of pleasure she emitted almost as much as the
feel of her silken flesh around him.

It had been his intention to torment her further, taking her slowly
until she begged for release, but he found that once he was inside her,
he could no longer hold back. He drove into her repeatedly, thrusting
deeply, hearing her small cries that nearly drove him cross-eyed with
lust, until at last he plowed into her, crying out his pleasure to the
forest as his seed spilled deep within her.

He lay atop her for long minutes, both of them relishing the languid
aftermath of their lovemaking, before Dana at last moved beneath him.

"Perhaps we should be getting home, my love," she whispered. "Mother
will be concerned."

He stiffened at her words. /*My love*/? Had she truly addressed him as
her love? He pulled away, gazing at her curiously, but Dana seemed
unruffled by the incident, casually pulling on her clothing and helping
him into his.

It had been a slip of the tongue, he decided as they rode toward home,
and he had to fight to keep down the grin of satisfaction when she
settled herself carefully on Thunder's back. He had taken her roughly,
mercilessly, and she had seemed to enjoy it as much as he. She had
simply been overcome by their passion, unaware of the words which had
crossed her lips. It meant nothing.

Still, Fox couldn't hide the glow of delight that surrounded him as they
made their way home.



"Fox, I am afraid I have some bad news."

Fox looked up from the breakfast he'd been pretending to eat and stared
at his wife. "My lady?" he asked uncertainly.

"Mother and I must travel to London for a few days. There is a
conference of Healers to take place, and both of us have been asked to
make speeches." She caressed his hand lightly. "I shall miss you, little
one."

He couldn't help smiling at her endearment, for he was far bigger than
she. "Must you go?" he asked plaintively.

She sighed. "I am afraid so," she told him. "I shall only be gone four
days. You will be glad to have a break from me."

"I shall miss you terribly." His face was forlorn, and Dana rose from
her seat, holding out her hand to him.

"Then let us go upstairs, and I shall give you something to tide you
over until I return," she said wickedly, causing him to turn quite red,
and glance around to make certain they were truly alone.

Holding back tears as he wved goodbye to her and her mother, he
reflected that he would remember their most recent lovemaking for a very
long time. Coming on the heels of their romp in the forest a few weeks
earlier, Dana had once again allowed him to tie her hands above her head
and drive her quite mad with pleasure. He had even swatted her bottom a
few times, lightly, of course, and she hadn't seemed to mind.

Of course, he told himself, it wasn't the same as when she punished him,
but then, it was not a husband's place to correct his wife.

He sighed as he and Walter turned back to the house. It was going to be
a long four days.



It was as if Alex had waited for a chance to torment him, Fox reflected
when the servant left his chamber. With Dana and Lady Maggie away, the
maid had become even more forward in his behavior, and had arrived this
morning bearing both fresh bathwater for Lord Fox, and the infamous letter.

Fox had read it over carefully, his face growing more and more pale,
because it appeared to be exactly what Alex claimed-- a complete
revelation of his guilt.

When he finished reading, Fox had quickly lit a candle and burned the
offending piece of parchment, while Alex looked on in amusement.

"I have another copy, you know," he reminded Lord Scully. "I had a
friend produce several for me--as insurance. You cannot destroy them all."

"Perhaps I shall destroy you instead," Fox said darkly, and Alex laughed
aloud.

"You may do so if you wish, my lord, but it would be your doom. My
friend will take his own copy of the letter to Lady Fowley immediately
upon my demise."

Fox had waited for Alex to leave his chamber, sinking into the bath
water anxiously, his mind racing desperately for a way to save himself.
Perhaps if he was able to search the servant's quarters, he could locate
any other copies of the letter Alex might have in his possession. He
felt certain the he and Walter together could force the maid to tell
them the name of this so-called friend, and perhaps that threat could be
eliminated as well.

He loved Dana, he accepted that now without denial. And he would not let
anyone threaten his life with her, certainly not an upstairs maid with
beautiful blue eyes and the morals of a gutter rat.

Later that evening, after making certain Walter was abed, Fox crept from
the Manor and made stealthily for the servants' quarters in the rear.
The shed where Alex and the other men slept was nearer the Manor house
than the women's quarters, and he should be safe, he told himself, if he
remained as silent as a mouse. Besides, Dana had given the order that he
was not to be touched, and the servants surely would not disobey her.
She could be as ferocious in the punishment of a deserving female
servant as with a male, he knew. He did not wish to test their loyalty,
however, should they possibly be in their cups this evening.

Carefully drawing open the door of the shed, Fox winced when he heard
the hinges creak. He listened carefully for a minute, then after
detecting no sound, continued. There were three male servants fast
asleep in their bunks, while the fourth bed remained empty. Fox had
heard Sarah and Roberta complaining that Alex was no longer to be found
of a night, and wondered where the little tramp was sleeping. Not alone,
probably, he thought with disgust as he carefully felt all around Alex's
bunk. Surely the letter must be here somewhere!

Quickly and silently, Fox searched the vicinity of the trunk as well as
the chest where Alex kept his things. He found nothing more interesting
there than several changes of clothes and a few paltry pieces of silver,
no doubt hoarded carefully over the years. With a small sighing of
exasperation, Fox quietly crept out of the shed, leaving the door
slightly ajar to avoid the creak, and made his way back to the Manor house.

He held his breath as he climbed the stairs, praying he would not be so
unfortunate as to make a sound, and with a smile of triumph reached his
chamber unaccosted. His smile faded when he entered the room, only to
come face to face with a thoroughly furious Walter.

"Uh--W-Walter--"

"Where have you been?"

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Fox asked carelessly, sitting down and
kicking off his shoes, hoping to brazen out the incident. His forced
nonchalance disappeared a moment later when Walter jerked him up by the
arm, pulling him close until they were nose-to-nose.

"I asked you a question," Walter ground out, "and I expect an answer."

"You aren't my wife," Fox replied flippantly. "You aren't even my father."

Walter, who was determined not to allow Fox to cause trouble for him
again, threw the younger man gently over the foot of the bed, placing a
large hand in the middle of his back to prevent him rising.

"Walter!" Fox yelped, astonished at this turn of events. "What do you
think you're doing?"

"I may not be your father, but with both our Ladies away, I am the
authority here," Walter replied firmly. "I am Lord Scully the /*Elder*/,
Fox. That means it is my job to protect you and make certain you do not
find mischief while Dana is absent. Now, I shall ask only once
more--where have you been?"

"None of your--ouch! Stop that!" Fox twisted his head around to glare at
Walter, shocked at the heavy swat that had just been landed upon his
upturned bottom.

"Where did you go?"

"I went--ouch!--downstairs for a cup of water!"

"You're lying," Walter responded calmly, raining several more swats on
the defenseless bottom beneath his hand. "Your water pitcher is
completely full."

Fox squirmed as his father-in-law continued spanking him, his stomach
sinking as he realized that he was not going to be able to escape the
elder man's superior size and strength.

"I just took a walk outside!" Fox gasped, his hands flailing wildly in
an attempt to protect his rapidly warming behind.

"Unescorted?"

"Oh! Yes, unescorted!"

Walter stopped for a moment, and Fox dared hope he was finished, but his
heart pounded wildly at the next words.

"You know, Fox, I once swore a vow to myself that I would get even with
you for all the punishments I endured because of you," he said
conversationally. "I was never punished so frequently as I have been
since you joined the family. Finally, however, I decided it was simply
in your nature, and as long as you didn't take me along with you on too
many escapades, you could be forgiven for your impulsiveness. You were
young, I told myself, and would soon learn."

He landed another stinging swat and Fox yelped.

"It seems, however, that you have not learned a thing."

"I--I--would you just /*stop*/ for a minute, so I can think!"

"I suggest you tell me the truth, Fox," Walter prompted. "You are not a
skillful liar. You were no more simply walking the grounds than you were
seeking out Alex for an evening of friendly gaming."

"Oh, all right!" Fox exclaimed. "Let me up, and I'll tell you
everything. But you have to swear, Walter, not to mention a word of this
to anyone."

Walter stood back, allowing Fox to rise, and stared at the disheveled
young man thoughtfully. Fox didn't look like a man who'd simply gone for
a stroll in the moonlight--he had a desperate look about him, as if he'd
had one chance at something and had failed.

Taking a seat in an armchair, Walter gestured toward its opposite,
waiting while Fox settled himself gingerly. "Tell me," he demanded, "and
perhaps I shall forget to mention to your lady that you were wandering
about the grounds alone after dark."



Fox spent most of the next three days in his chamber, telling himself
that the illness he felt was simply loneliness for his wife, and concern
over having revealed a dangerous secret to one even so trusted as
Walter. The older man had promised to ponder the problem, but his first
advice, to confide in Lady Dana and allow her to address the matter, was
not one Fox felt he could tolerate. He didn't think Walter would betray
him to Dana or to Lady Maggie, but how could he be completely certain?
An underlying nausea was with him round the clock, and Fox lay fretfully
in his bed, counting the minutes until Dana was to return.

At last the day arrived, and he rose from his bed to bathe, dressing in
his most becoming clothing, ignoring the feeling of dizziness that
plagued him. This afternoon, he reminded himself, with the first hint of
a smile in days, this afternoon she would be home.

He paused as he heard a loud rapping at the front door knocker, but did
not move to leave his chamber. Most likely it was only a traveling
peddler, and Roberta would soon send her on her way.

Downstairs, Walter, who had been going over the estate's account
ledgers, looked up when Roberta entered the room, followed by a fine
Lady whom he recognized, although he had not seen her in years.

"Lady Amanda," he greeted cordially, if without much warmth. Lady Amanda
Rutherford had been one of Lady Sharon's frequent opponents in the
games, besting his wife more often than he cared to remember.

"Walter, my dear," Lady Amanda greeted, her eyes glittering as she
raised his hand to her lips.

Walter hid his aversion, drawing back his fingers as quickly as was
discreet, and signaled to Roberta to have refreshments brought.

"What brings you to Scully Manor, my lady?" he asked, taking his seat
once she had settled herself comfortably.

"You, Walter," she smiled. "I understand you are Lord Scully the Elder
now."

"Yes, my lady, that is my honor, and I am quite happy with the situation."

"I am sorry to hear that."

He started at her unexpected phrase. "S--sorry, my lady?" he stammered.

She nodded in a bare semblance of commiseration. "I'm afraid so, Walter.
You see, on the last occasion Lady Sharon and I had to wager with one
another, I was the clear winner. She wrote me a promissory note, to be
delivered upon at the time of her death. I should have collected my
winnings earlier, but I have been abroad. I only recently returned to
England and learned of Lady Sharon's untimely demise."

She handed him a scrolled parchment, which he unrolled and scanned
hastily, his face growing white as he read the words.

"But, my lady, this cannot be!" he sputtered, raising fearful eyes to her.

"I am afraid it is all in order," she corrected. "You will recognize
Lady Sharon's signature."

He looked at the bottom of the page, unable to deny that the boldly
scrawled, 'Sharon Skinner' written there was indeed in his late wife's
hand.

"But I don't understand," he said in a hollow voice, feeling suddenly as
if the entire world was falling away and leaving him at the end of a
very long tunnel. "This says--it says I belong...to you."

End chapter 9



"Indeed it does," Lady Amanda agreed. "Would you have me believe you
knew nothing of this?"

Walter shook his head, his eyes stunned behind his gold-rimmed
spectacles. "No--I--how can this be?" he asked helplessly.

Lady Rutherford tittered in mock sympathy. "Well, my dear, it's really
quite plain. Lady Sharon never could resist a good wager, even when she
was short on funds. I'd already won a priceless family heirloom from her
that night, but she refused to give in. All her cash was gone, and I
never wager on credit. You were the only thing of value she had left to
gamble."

"But I--I--" The idea was so horrible that Walter was unable to
formulate a coherent sentence.

"I wanted to take you immediately, but she insisted that a marriage
dissolution would ruin your good name. I had to admit she was correct,
so being the kind and generous woman I am, I agreed to this solution.
That upon Lady Sharon's death, if you and I were still alive, you would
belong to me, along with your entire dowry."

Walter said nothing, still in shock at this new nightmare of his late
wife's uncaring depravity.

"You should be grateful, my dear. I only delayed collecting my winnings
because I wanted to protect your reputation. Truly, when I rode off with
this paper that evening, I thought never to collect my winnings. I was
terribly saddened to hear of Lady Sharon's untimely demise, and yet, how
fortunate for me that I am able to enjoy you while you are still young
and beautiful. I should have been terribly disappointed to have
inherited the responsibility of a weak old man."

"Hello," came a soft voice at the door, and Walter turned to see Fox
smiling politely at their guest. He had been summoned from his chamber
by Roberta, who considered it her responsibility to listen in on
conversations between the men of the household and uninvited female
guests. Her frantic pleading that "Lord Walter is in terrible trouble,
ye must /*hurry*/ my lord!" had sped him on his way, in spite of an
uncertain stomach. He'd received a brief explanation of the situation as
they quickly made their way downstairs, and now Fox held out his hand to
Lady Amanda, outwardly charming while inwardly quaking.

"And who might this tasty morsel be?" inquired Lady Amanda saucily,
rising to take his hand and bring it to her lips in a delicate caress.

"I am Lord Scully the Younger, Lady Dana's husband," Fox replied, hiding
his revulsion at the woman's touch. "My wife is absent, but should be
returning shortly, along with Lady Maggie. Please allow me to offer you
the hospitality of Scully Manor."

Precisely on cue, Sarah entered the room with a tray laden with tea and
scones, setting it down before Fox with a flourish. She backed out of
the room, her eyes wide as saucers, for news of Lady Amanda's supposed
claim on Lord Scully the Elder had spread through the servants like
wildfire.

"Thank you, Sarah," said Fox formally. "Prepare the Green Chamber for
our guest and see to her servants. I'm sure you must be quite fatigued,"
he smiled, turning back to Lady Amanda.

"I have traveled some distance," she confessed with a self-satisfied smirk.

"And I understand you bring troubling news. May I?" He held out his
hand, and Amanda gave him the scroll.

"How very interesting. You read, I presume, as does Walter?" she asked,
her patronizing tone setting his teeth on edge, but he merely nodded.

"Oh yes, my lady, my mother felt it quite necessary for me to be
educated, as it was expected that I would one day manage a large estate
such as this." He stopped talking then, reading over the words on the
parchment carefully.

Fox had hoped to find a loophole that would free Walter from this
woman's absurd claim, but the contract was plainly written, and signed
by both parties. Lady Sharon Skinner had lost a round of cards to Lady
Amanda Rutherford, the wager being marriage to Lord Walter Skinner, Lady
Amanda to take possession of Lord Walter and his dowry upon Lady
Sharon's death. Fox noted grimly that at least Lady Sharon had
stipulated that Lady Amanda was to marry Walter, thus preventing him
being shamed before the entire world as a mere concubine.

"This is beyond my simple understanding, I fear," he observed, playing
the brainless-husband role, as she appeared to expect. He handed her
back the scroll. "Perhaps you would care to rest from your journey after
you have had your tea. Lady Maggie and Lady Dana should be arriving home
before supper, and then you may discuss this matter with Walter's wife."

"Indeed, Lord Fox, you seem quite sensible, for a man. I believe I shall
do exactly that."

Fox poured a cup of tea for the lady, and she made small talk with him
while she consumed two of Natalie's tasty scones, then took her leave to
freshen up in her chamber. Walter said nothing, still being too stunned
to make conversation, but merely sat quietly, occasionally wringing his
hands in consternation.

Fox placed a friendly hand on Walter's shoulder as he rang for Sarah to
clear away the tea things. Neither he nor Walter had felt like taking
tea, although Fox had made a pretense of it for propriety's sake.

"I don't--I can't believe she would do this..." Walter muttered after
Sarah had left the room.

"Don't worry, Walter. Maggie will think of something." He squared his
shoulders. "And if she can't...I will."

Walter shook his head, still lost, and buried his face in his hands.
"This is why Sharon made no provision for me in her will," he murmured
from behind his fingers. "But Lady Rutherford, I can not bear the
thought of her. . . Oh sweet Goddess, Fox, what am I to do?"

"For now, you must try to remain calm." Fox heard a noise outside and
listened carefully for a moment before smiling broadly in relief. "I do
believe our ladies have returned."

Both men bolted from the room, racing for the carriage drive, and
greeted the women eagerly as they alighted from the carriage.

"My lady!" Fox exclaimed as Dana wrapped him in her arms. "I have missed
you so!"

"I longed for you every night," she whispered wickedly into his ear,
enjoying the way his beautiful face turned crimson.

"Why Walter, whatever is the matter?" Maggie asked, examining her
husband's pale face critically. "Are you ailing?"

"No, my lady, I--Lady Rutherford--" Walter could speak no further, so
Fox quickly explained the situation to the women.

"I had her taken to the Green Chamber," he concluded. "I did not know
what else to do."

"You were quite right to delay the issue until I returned, Fox," Maggie
praised. "I shall see this person and her parchment for myself at
supper, and then we shall decide what to do." She put a comforting hand
on Walter's cheek, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Do not worry, my
sweet Bear. No one shall take you from me." When he still appeared
troubled, she grasped his chin firmly and said with more forcefulness,
"You will endeavor to trust me in this matter, Walter."

"Yes, my lady," he answered obediently, following her into the house
with a heavy heart.

"I wish to freshen up before greeting our guest, Mother," Dana said
determinedly, leading Fox by the arm up the stairs and toward their wing
of the mansion.

Maggie smiled knowingly and took Walter by the hand. "As do I, my
daughter," she answered, giving him a meaningful glance.

He licked his lips nervously as they passed through the door to the West
Wing. As much as he adored his lady, the events of the afternoon had
driven all thoughts of desire from his mind. "Maggie, I..."

She nodded. "I understand, Walter, how upset you are, but you will rest
beside me and we shall talk. I have missed your company."

Talking was the last thing Dana had on her mind, and their chamber door
had barely closed behind them when she turned to Fox and ripped his
shirt forcefully from his body.

"But my lady, Walter is extremely worried..." he gasped, partly
scandalized and partly inflamed by her behavior. His breeches soon
followed, landing in tatters on the floor beside his useless shirt, and
before he could say another word she had launched herself at him,
pushing him backwards onto the bed and straddling him.

"Later, Fox," she responded somewhat breathlessly. "Mother will handle
the situation. Right now, I would handle you."

Her mouth took his hungrily, and he could feel the wetness of her
through her trousers as she pressed against him. He stroked her womanly
area with his fingers, enjoying the scent of her desire, then gasped
when she took him in her hand. He had already been aroused by her kiss,
indeed, by her very presence, but her soft touch was almost more than he
could bear after four days alone.

"Dana--I--" he stammered, and she tugged at her trousers hastily.

"Don't you dare, not without me," she commanded, and he held onto his
seed with only a hair's-breadth of control.

"Please, my lady, I cannot wait much longer!" he whispered, and then
moaned in pleasure as she sheathed herself on his rod.

Satisfaction was not long in arriving for either of them, and he groaned
into her mouth as he spilled his seed inside her body, enjoying that
animal growl she made seconds later that meant she had found her womanly
pleasure. She collapsed atop him, exhausted, and they lay there,
embracing one another for long moments before she climbed off him and
rang for bath water.

"I am grimy from my journey," she observed, her nose wrinkling in
distaste as she glanced down at herself.

"I did not mind, my lady," he said shyly, covering himself with the
sheets when the servants rapped upon the door.

They sated themselves again, this time in a more leisurely manner while
in the bathing tub, and by the time they rose from the water, it had
grown quite cold.

"Now, tell me of this situation with Walter," she said as she donned her
evening wear, and Fox related all he knew of Lady Amanda and her
shameful claim.

"It appears genuine, Dana," he said soberly, smoothing his tunic down
over his breeches. "I had hoped to find a flaw in the agreement, but
upon reading it I could detect nothing out of order."

"Mother will never let Walter go," she said as they prepared to leave
their chamber, and Fox had to agree. However, he wondered, what choice
would Lady Maggie have if the matter went before a Judge?



The polite conversation at supper that evening was a thin mask over the
barely restrained tension and hostility. At last, Lady Rutherford could
tolerate it no longer.

"Loathe as I am to bring up this unpleasant topic, Lady Maggie, it must
be discussed. An agreement must be reached on this matter."

"I agree that we must, Lady Amanda, but I cannot and will not allow you
to take Walter. We are legally wedded, by consent of the Queen. You were
unavailable to object to our marriage, and cannot do so after the fact."

"And yet, were we to go before a Judge, are you absolutely certain Her
Ladyship would not find my prior claim on Walter to take precedence over
yours?" Amanda asked silkily, sipping at her wine. "Your marriage could
simply be annulled by the court. Of course, the resulting gossip would
fascinate polite society for quite some time. Rather embarrassing for
the very proper Scully matriarch, to have married a man who was already
spoken for."

Walter, who had been shoving the food around on his plate during the
entire meal, made a strangled noise at her words, and Maggie put a
comforting hand over his. Her mouth tightened when she noted the
trembling in his fingers.

"It matters not to me what a Judge would declare, or the tongue-wagging
of idle gossips," Maggie said firmly. "Walter belongs to me, and I will
not give him up."

Amanda stared around the table thoughtfully for a few minutes, while the
Scully family remained silent. "Well then," she said at last, setting
down her goblet with a small 'thump'. "It would appear we have only one
option available to us."

"So it would seem," Maggie agreed evenly as Walter's head shot up, his
face full of fear.

Fox glanced from one woman to the other, confused, but Dana's warning
squeeze to his hand told him not to ask questions.

"Dawn?" Lady Amanda asked, rising from her chair regally.

"Dawn."

"Pistols or swords?"

Lady Maggie inclined her head slightly, for she was equally proficient
with both weapons. "Your choice," she said with a humorless smile.

"Pistols."

"Pistols at dawn, then. Have you a second? My daughter will naturally
act in my stead, should it be necessary."

Dana nodded agreement.

"I have a very talented servant who will take my place, should I be
unable to duel. I have trained her myself."

Duel! Fox stared at Dana, open-mouthed, and she gave him a warning
glance that forbade him to speak. With effort, he swallowed his
questions, observing Walter's pasty white face with concern. The older
man appeared about to faint.

"Perhaps I should take Walter upstairs to rest, Lady Maggie?" he
offered. "Such conversation is extremely upsetting to gentlemen."

Maggie nodded. "I believe you should, Fox, thank you."

Walter allowed himself to be led from the room, and spoke not a word as
Fox guided him to his chamber and settled him upon the large bed. The
younger man placed a candle on the bedside table and took a seat in a
nearby chair.

"Fox, you must help me!" Walter pleaded hoarsely, his eyes desperate in
the candle's glow. "It would be bad enough to belong to Lady Amanda, to
never see Maggie again, but if Maggie should be killed or injured...I
could not endure it!"

He buried his face in shaking hands, and Fox bit his lip thoughtfully. A
plan was beginning to formulate in his mind. It was risky, but then,
could it be more risky than freeing Isaac had been? And surely this was
almost as important--Walter's life would be ruined, should Lady Amanda
emerge the victor, and Lady Maggie might well be dead. At last he sat
forward decisively.

"I have an idea, Walter, but I'm afraid it's rather dangerous for both
of us. If the ladies come upstairs early, you must think of a story to
explain my absence."

"Where are you going?"

"To the tavern." He ignored Walter's shocked gasp. "There is no other
choice, if we wish to prevent this duel. However, should I be
discovered, both of us will probably spend the rest of our lives in the
dungeon--if you are able to remain with Lady Maggie at all."

The sober way the words were spoken shook Walter to his core. "We are
Scully men," he answered staunchly. "We will not be fail. Go, take care,
and return with haste, Fox."

Fox nodded and slipped out the window, carefully making his way down the
large oak tree that grew just outside. Once, on his journey down, he
almost lost his grip, but wrapping his arms firmly around the branches
and praying to the Goddess for Her assistance, he was able to make it
safely to the ground.

He wanted to take Samantha, but knew if he tried to remove her from the
stables the servants would inform Dana of his defection. Instead he sped
quietly through the forest on foot, grateful that Dana insisted he wear
dark clothing, mindful not to twist his ankle in the damnable boots.
Within thirty minutes he stood outside the back door of the Azure Tavern.

Raucous laughter came from within, and an occasional male cry of
outraged laughter would emanate from the windows, but Fox had no time
for propriety. Steeling himself, he slipped through the door, dodging
past the serving men, shielding his eyes from their state of
undress--for indeed, they wore very short, tight breeches and no shirts
at all!--and made for the bar.

Sure enough, Richard was there, serving ale to the lusty women who had
come to relieve the stress of jobs and families with drink and gaming.
Fox watched as Richard expertly dodged several hands that reached for
him as he made his way down the bar.

"Psst! Richard!" he hissed, blushing wildly when one of the women
spotted him.

"Jeanne, is it a new serving boy you have?" she demanded, her eyes
sliding up and down his shapely form. "Why is he so overdressed?"

Richard immediately pushed him back into the rear regions of the tavern,
demanding, "Lord Fox! What on earth are ye doing here? Blessed hell,
your lady will have your head and mine as well!"

"Richard, I need your help. Believe me, I would not have come had the
situation not been desperate."

"There'd be one for the tables!" commented a female croupier as she
passed Fox, caressing his soft bottom intimately.

He jerked away from her, staring in confusion, for her comment had made
no sense to him at all.

"One for the tables?" he inquired of Richard, but Richard just shook his
head angrily.

"Tell me why a man of your station has crept from the safety of your
home and come to a place such as this alone at night, Lord Fox," Richard
demanded, so Fox explained the situation to him hastily, for the
speculative eyes of the croupier who had molested him still rested upon
him thoughtfully.

"I know this Lady Rutherford of which ye speak--she has gamed here
before, and she be a terrible hard woman. Aye, 'tis a horrible event for
the Scullys, but how can I help you, lad?" Richard asked.

"I need one of the tricks of which you hinted, Richard," Fox explained.
"Lady Amanda adores wagering. Perhaps if I can entice her to gamble
ownership of Walter on a roll of the dice, this duel need not take place."

Richard's face lit up with understanding. "Ah, so it's cheating that's
on your mind!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "You've come to the right
place, my boy."

He opened a nearby cupboard and withdrew a small box containing a shiny
set of dice. Four polished cubes met Fox's eager eyes.

"These are for her," he instructed, placing one pair in Lord Scully's
left hand. "And these," he continued, dropping the other pair in Fox's
right hand, "are for you to use. You must be very careful when you
switch them. Should you be discovered cheating, I canna imagine what
will happen to ye. Choose ten as the number to match."

"But what if she insists upon another number?" Fox asked, confused.

"You make sure you choose ten!" Richard ordered. "Unless you want to see
your friend taken away by that woman tomorrow morning."

Fox nodded, thanked Richard quickly, and slipped out the way he had
come, breathing prayers all the way home that he would not be
discovered. He climbed the tree, entering the manor the same way he had
left, and found Walter still lying abed, his hands clenched tightly
together in fear.

"I was afraid you had been captured," he hissed when he saw Fox. "What
took you so long?"

"I was as quick as I could be," Fox answered. "And I was successful.
Tonight at midnight, after all the ladies are abed, we will knock on
Lady Amanda's door and challenge her to a throw of the dice for you."

"Will it work?" Walter asked, staring in awe at the four small cubes Fox
held.

"It must," his friend replied grimly.



"How is Walter?" Dana asked, entering their chamber some time later. She
and Maggie had done their best to make civil conversation with Lady
Amanda after supper, but it had been difficult, with the knowledge of
what dawn would bring hanging over them all. At last Lady Amanda had
excused herself, pleading a long journey, and Dana and Maggie had
breathed a sigh of relief once she was gone. They had sat together in
the salon for a long while after that, attempting to design a plan
superior to the duel, but were unable to come up with even a single
idea. At last, they had departed for their chambers, unwillingly
determined to prepare for morning.

"I left him sleeping," Fox lied, sitting up in the bed when she
approached. "He was understandably distraught."

"You needn't worry about Walter, Fox," Dana said, sitting next to him
and tracing her finger up his bare chest. "Mother will not allow him to
be lost."

"Have--have you come up with a plan to save him?" he asked, his breath
catching at her touch. In spite of his concern for Walter, he wanted his
wife, wanted her badly.

Dana shook her head as her lips followed her finger. "It shall be
pistols at dawn," she whispered. "Let us not speak of it further. Walter
will remain with Mother."

"Yes, my lady," he murmured into her mouth as she claimed his lips.
Moments later he felt the familiar tug on his wrist as she fastened her
scarf around it, and before long he was bound tightly to the four
corners of the bed.

Dana was pleased to see that Fox had slipped into bed naked--it was much
more efficient that way, she reflected as she lowered her head to him
with an impish grin and took him into her mouth. For a very long time,
as long as she felt they could both withstand, Dana proceeded to drive
her husband completely wild until at last, she lowered herself onto him
and took her pleasure, giving him his so thoroughly that he felt certain
he would faint from the sheer delight of her.

When they were both exhausted, she collapsed across him, snuggling
against his strong chest, and closed her eyes. Her breathing soon grew
regular and slow.

Fox stared down at Dana's copper head resting against him, tugging at
the scarves which still held him tightly bound to the bed. Occasionally
she would leave him in this position all night, taking him thoroughly
again in the morning before releasing him and bathing away the ache in
his muscles with the hot bath water. If she left him tied tonight...

"Dana," he whispered, moving slightly in the hope of waking her.

"Mmmm," she muttered, snuggling more firmly against him.

"Dana, my lady, please wake up!" he begged, more forcefully this time,
and she raised her head to stare at him.

"Whatever is the matter, Fox?"

"I was wondering, my lady, if you would...well...please untie me."

She smiled, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "And if I wish to take
you again in the morning, my sweet, what then? I like having you bound,
at my mercy, and I know you enjoy it as well."

"Yes, but my lady, it--it makes me so sore...I'm afraid I might not be
able to please you properly."

"You have had no trouble in the past," she observed, tracing her
fingernail across his full, lush lips.

"Please, Dana," he whispered, allowing his tongue to dart out and lick
her fingers briefly. "I wish to put my arms around you."

"I shall put mine around you instead," she returned, slipping her arms
carefully around his chest, holding him tightly to her. "Now sleep, Fox.
No more talk."

"Yes, my lady," he said, hiding his quiet desperation. As soon as she
was lightly snoring, he began twisting his wrists in an attempt to free
them, but at last gave up in defeat; Dana possessed an excellent command
of knots, and he would not be free until she released him. Closing his
eyes, he began to pray again.



Walter, who had crept from his own bed when Lady Maggie dropped off,
paced the salon nervously, glancing at the clock on the wall every few
minutes. Fox had said midnight, and now it was fifteen past and the
younger man had yet to arrive. Finally, knowing every second that ticked
past brought them closer to dawn, Walter set his jaw firmly and made for
the East Wing. Perhaps Fox had been unable to elude Dana.

He rapped quietly upon their chamber door, and when no answer was
forthcoming, opened it carefully. His eyes widened when the candle he
carried revealed poor Fox, tied securely to the four corners of the bed,
Dana sprawled out atop him, sleeping soundly.

He stifled his grin of amusement at the look of pure desperation Fox
shot his way.

"Where are the dice?" he whispered softly.

"In the left and right pockets of my breeches," Fox answered, barely
daring to make a sound. "You must use the ones in the right pocket.
Choose number ten."

Walter nodded, asking no more questions. He retrieved the dice, being
careful not to mix up the two pair. Then he crept silently from the room
leaving Fox trapped, agitated, and feeling as if he must certainly go
insane at being left out of his own desperate plan.

Walter made his way to the Green Chamber and knocked boldly upon the
door. It opened a moment later to reveal a fully dressed Lady
Amanda--apparently she had been unable to find slumber either.

"Well, Walter, are you so eager for me to take you?" she asked slowly,
her eyes lighting up at the sight of the beautiful man at her chamber
door. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Lady Amanda," he cooed in his most charming voice, "I should like to
discuss the situation with you, if it pleases you."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid there's nothing to discuss. I won your
fine body and your dowry, now I am here to collect my winnings."

"Surely a man who is willing would be far more pleasant, my lady. I
would like to give you the chance to win me all over again," Walter told
her, and was gratified to see her eyes light up with interest.

"What did you have in mind?"

"A simple game of dice between us, my lady. Uncomplicated enough for a
mere man to understand and yet as exciting as any wager. One roll of the
dice to determine my fate." Walter was galled at the words he uttered,
but told himself firmly that if women insisted upon thinking of men as
simple dolts, men must learn to use that fact to their advantage.

"If I win, you go with me willingly? But if you win, you stay with Maggie?"

Walter nodded. "No duel at dawn. Since I am the prize in this wager, I
feel it only fair that I be given a chance to play for myself, so to
speak."

She stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before answering, "Very
well, Walter. You do realize I am quite an experienced gamer, do you not?"

"Oh yes, my lady, you are one of the best. Perhaps I may learn from your
expertise."

She grinned and gestured him into her chamber. Walter swallowed hard
when the door closed behind them, but Lady Rutherford only drew a small
table to the center of the room and indicated that he should take a seat
before it.

"There is one other thing, my lady," he said hesitantly as she reached
into her valise to withdraw her personal set of dice.

Lady Amanda paused, looking over her shoulder. "Yes, my dear Walter?"

"I should like the contract in writing before we begin."

She gazed at him for a few silent moments. The entire situation was
quite ridiculous--the very idea of a gentleman coming to her chamber
alone at night, and with this preposterous proposal! She was not such a
fool as to believe this man had nothing up his sleeve. If he thought he
could take the best of Lady Amanda Rutherford, however, he was sorely
mistaken. She would allow him his folly, and when he was safely in her
power she would teach him that no man ever challenged a Rutherford woman
without experiencing severe regret.

"A contract it shall be," she agreed at last. Amanda quickly withdrew a
piece of parchment and scrawled details of the bargain across it with a
large quill, signing it with a flourish. Walter added his signature and
the game was on.

"Who shall determine our number?" she asked, her mouth twitching in
amusement.

Walter pretended to consider carefully. "Since my virtue is at stake, I
believe I should have that right," he said at last. "After all, should
you win, I shall be ruined and my lady disgraced."

Amanda smiled. "Very well. What shall it be?"

"Um...sev--no, ten. Ten has always been my lucky number."

"Ten it shall be. You will not object, of course, if I use my lucky pair
of dice?"

He watched as she held out the two cubes she'd withdrawn from her
valise. Could they be as full of trickery as the pair he carried in his
pocket, he wondered? Fighting back a wave of panic, he nodded, and held
his breath as she prepared to roll.

She took her set of dice into her fist, raised it to her mouth and
murmured a quiet chant to the small cubes before rolling them across the
table. Walter almost felt his heart burst within him when her score
revealed itself--NINE. It was too close--if Fox was incorrect by even
one number...

She smiled wolfishly at Walter, who attempted to look as if he was on
the verge of fainting. "Your turn, my dear," she said brightly.

Walter withdrew the dice from his right pocket. "I presume you have no
objections if I use my lady's own lucky dice?" he questioned, and Lady
Amanda smiled with indulgent amusement while she shook her head. It was
obvious there was cheating about to occur, she thought. A shame Walter
did not realize the uselessness of the document he had signed.

Walter rattled the dice around in his hand for what seemed like forever
before finally letting them fly across the tabletop, and when the number
ten came up, felt his knees go weak with relief.

Lady Amanda nodded, having expected this outcome. "So, you are the
winner," she commented mildly. "And yet, you are still the loser,
Walter. What a pity for you that an agreement made with a mere male
isn't legally binding."

"What!" he gasped, staring at her in betrayed horror. "But--you signed
your name--"

"Besides," she sneered, "do you truly believe I did not realize this
game was set up from the beginning? Where did you obtain the loaded
dice, Walter? Do they really belong to Lady Maggie? I had not thought
her capable of such clever tactics, however dishonest."

"You speak of dishonesty, and yet you willingly entered into a contract
you had no intention of honoring," came a voice from behind them, and
Walter almost did faint when he realized his wife was present.

Amanda swung around to face the woman in her doorway. "A contract with a
male means nothing," she said with an air of dismissal. "No court in the
land would uphold it. It is not binding."

"Perhaps not legally, Lady Amanda, but it is morally binding," Maggie
answered. "The commandments given by our Goddess do not stipulate that
lying to males is excusable. Indeed, to take advantage of a man, who has
less of an understanding of such matters, must be a truly greater sin."

Amanda handed over the paper angrily, as if to prove her point. "It
isn't legal, Lady Maggie, and you know it. It isn't worth the paper it's
written upon."

Maggie took the precious parchment into her possession eagerly--she
would not have been surprised had Amanda tried to destroy it. "It is
worth a great deal more than you realize," she admonished. "For if you
refuse to abide by this agreement, an agreement made in good faith with
a poor man who knew no better, I shall make it known throughout the
entire Queendom that you are a liar and a cheat, and hold no honor. My
word, as an honest woman, is known and valued. You will soon find you
are no longer able to live from your winnings, because no one in the
land will wager with you!"

"He cheated!" Amanda retorted, pointing at Walter accusingly. "He was
using trick dice."

"Walter, give me the dice," Maggie ordered, holding out her hand, and
Walter, praying a silent plea to the Goddess that the quick switch he'd
made wouldn't be discovered, handed her the dice he'd withdrawn from his
left pocket. Maggie examined them carefully, then handed them to Amanda.
There was no denying they were simply an ordinary pair of dice.

Amanda turned them over and over, examining them, then glared angrily at
Maggie, but it was plain to see that the Scully woman meant what she
said. Finally, deciding that her only option was to retreat with
dignity, she said, "Very well, Lady Maggie. You have won. You will, of
course, excuse me if I refuse your further hospitality. I shall take my
servants and depart within the hour."

"I believe that to be advisable," Maggie agreed, and motioning to her
husband, she ushered him down the corridor into their chamber.

"Walter, take a seat. It may be the last time you are able to do so for
some days," she ordered in a steely voice as she tugged at the bell cord.

Mariah arrived shortly, and Maggie instructed her, "See to Lady
Rutherford's departure. She will not be staying the night after all."
Then she turned back to her trembling husband.

"You will tell me the entire story of this debacle from beginning to
end, leaving out nothing," Maggie ordered, and Walter shivered at her
tone. He avoided her gaze for a moment before sighing heavily.



Dana was awakened by a sharp rapping at her chamber door. Raising her
head to stare curiously at the door--for it must be the middle of the
night--she called, "Who is there?"

"It is I, Daughter," Maggie replied forcefully. "We must speak at once."

"What is it?" muttered Fox as Dana climbed off him.

"Shh, sweeting, it is only Mother." She spread the sheet over his naked
body and pulled on her robe before throwing open the door. "Mother, what
in the world--"

"Dana," Maggie said, striding into the room dragging Walter behind her,
"it seems our husbands are simply incapable of behaving themselves for
any length of time."

Dana glanced sharply at Fox, who had awakened completely by now and was
staring at her with eyes widened by apprehension. She sighed lightly,
knotting the sash of her robe at her waist, and turned back to Maggie.

"What have they done now?"

Maggie quickly related the story Walter had told her, and as she spoke
Dana's face grew red with shock and outrage. She whirled back to Fox,
who looked as if he would like to sink into the bed and disappear.
Carefully, she took two steps toward him before Maggie's voice stopped her.

"Remember your own words of wisdom, Daughter," Maggie cautioned. "Take
care in the heat of the moment."

"You are quite right, Mother," Dana agreed at last, surveying her
helpless prey with her arms crossed over her chest. "I believe we should
discuss it in the morning. Has Lady Rutherford departed?"

"She is safely off Scully land by now."

"Good. Now that bit of unpleasantness is behind us, we can decide what
to do with men who so foolishly endanger themselves, and who stupidly
take it upon themselves to actually try and protect women."

"We shall do so indeed, but over breakfast. Right now, we all require
sleep. Walter, come along."

So saying, Maggie turned and strode down the corridor toward her own
wing. Walter, after a guilty look at Fox, and seeing the dangerous
expression on his step-daughter's face, followed immediately.

"So," Dana said thoughtfully, approaching her husband with slow,
measured steps. "Let us consider your crimes, shall we, sweeting?"

"My-my lady, I-"

"You lied to me," she interrupted, holding up one finger. "You said you
were taking Walter upstairs to rest when you had every intention of
putting this ridiculous, dangerous plan into motion." Another finger
joined the first as she went on, "You left the house without permission,
under cover of darkness and without an escort."

He bit his lip nervously as she continued.

"You went into the village alone, when you knew that the commonest of
the population would be out and about, and that a beautiful man such as
yourself would be simply too tempting for them to resist." Three fingers
were now raised, and a fourth flew up. "You went, of all places, to a
gaming saloon, where beautiful men are the stakes wagered on a regular
basis, with no one to protect you should you come to harm." Now Dana
added her thumb, leaving her hand opened wide, finishing, "You
encouraged Walter to visit Lady Rutherford alone, a scandal in itself,
and gave him the means to cheat at a game of chance, which you had
obtained through your illicit visit to the tavern." She stared at her
open palm, itching to punish her disobedient husband's backside, and Fox
winced.

"I--may I at least--" He stopped, uncertain how to begin to explain to
his wife why the plan had seemed logical and a good idea at the time.

Dana waited for a moment, curious as to what explanation he might
concoct, but when he gave up, she sat next to him on the bed and began
untying the scarves that held him.

"My lady?" he asked in confusion.

"You will rest tonight, Fox," she commanded, removing her robe and
slipping into bed next to him. She snuffed the candle and pulled him
into her arms, holding him tightly, for the very thought of what might
have happened to him in the village chilled her blood. "I shall deal
with you tomorrow."

Fox lay in her embrace, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, and
wondered how much of the nausea he was feeling was due to nervousness,
and how much due to the strange illness that seemed to have struck him
recently.

It was hours before he slept.



When Dana met her mother for breakfast, both women showed signs of a
restless night.

"I don't believe I slept an hour," Dana confided, sipping at the strong
coffee she had ordered served. "The very thought of what might have
befallen Fox--or Walter, going to that woman's chamber alone..." She
shuddered.

Maggie nodded sympathetically. "I know," she agreed. "Walter was so
concerned about the coming punishment that he tossed and turned all
night. Poor dear, it is simply one thing after another with him, it seems."

"Well, Mother, if it is any consolation, during that long and sleepless
night I believe I was able to devise the perfect plan for disciplining
our wayward men."

Maggie raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I believe," Dana said with a wicked grin, "that their fate should
depend upon a roll of the dice."

"Pardon me?" Maggie asked, startled at the statement, but as Dana
quickly outlined her plan, Maggie's smile grew until it matched that of
her mischievous daughter, both in size and wickedness.

"I do believe we should feed the darlings their breakfast and get
started right away," she said, and Dana nodded agreement. Both women
rose from the table and headed eagerly upstairs.

"Dana, can't I please get up now?" Fox begged when she entered the room.
He had been kneeling before the fireplace where she'd left him, his
hands resting upon his head, completely naked, and he was both tired and
humiliated. At least, he thought thankfully, Alex would not arrive to
clean the chamber before he was summoned.

"Oh yes, Fox, you may get up. In fact, I wish you to bathe and dress
immediately. Then you will eat breakfast, and we will proceed with your
punishment."

Dana rang for a tray for Fox, and while he bathed in the still-warm
water in the tub, Dana pulled out the clothing she intended him to wear.
He tried to hide his grimace of disgust when a pair of extremely tight
breeches landed on the bed, soon joined by the most revealing shirt he
possessed. She lay the hated high-heeled boots beside the clothing and
waited for him to complete his bath. Fox washed himself hastily, knowing
that to keep her waiting would only increase her anger, and soon he
stood before her, still naked, while she patted his skin with the drying
towel.

"Now, you will get dressed," she ordered, and holding back his
objections, Fox quickly donned the clothing she'd chosen. His meal
arrived, and he choked down as much as he could before pushing back from
the table to indicate he was finished.

"Come with me," Dana said then, and left the chamber without a backward
glance. He followed, wondering to what doom she was leading him, but
realizing there was no escape.

They joined Maggie and Walter in the salon of the West Wing, and Fox saw
that Walter was dressed equally uncomfortably, and was standing in a
corner looking miserable.

"Fox, that corner is for you," Dana instructed, pointing to the opposite
wall, and he obeyed without protest, watching in surprise as Maggie and
Dana took their seats at the small table and produced a deck of cards.

"High card wins?" Dana asked, shuffling the deck, and Maggie nodded.
"Perhaps we should explain the rules to the boys, Mother. They are as
yet unacquainted with this sort of gaming."

"Quite so. Gentlemen, pay attention." Fox and Walter both turned to her,
eyes wide, and waited while she smiled at them.

"Since you both wished to wager your future on a game of chance, Dana
and I have decided that your punishment should fittingly rest on the
same. She and I will each draw a card in turn, and whoever has the
highest card will order her husband to remove an article of his
clothing. When you are both quite deliciously naked, we will proceed."

Fox blushed furiously, glancing at the door to the salon, and felt
weak-kneed with relief when he realized his wife had bolted it behind
her. At least no servants would be witness to this humiliation.

He and Walter stared at the ladies as they each reached into the deck
and drew a card.

"Four," Dana revealed, holding hers aloft for everyone to see.

"Seven," Maggie answered. "Walter, remove your left boot."

He stood, unbelieving for a moment, before slowly bending over and
pulling the boot from his foot while bracing himself against the wall.
When he had set it aside, and was once again standing erect, the ladies
drew again.

"Walter, your right boot."

He obeyed.

On the next draw Dana was the winner, and she turned to Fox with a
delighted smile. "Remove your shirt, Fox."

"My shirt!" he objected. "But my lady, Walter had only to remove a boot!"

She rose, giving him a threatening glare, and he immediately pulled the
shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. In truth, he thought
bitterly, there was not much more of him revealed now than before, the
shirt was that immodest.

Walter's shirt was the next to go, and then his breeches, and soon he
stood in the corner wearing only his undergarment, his entire body red
with embarrassment.

"Fox, left boot."

"Fox, right boot."

"Walter, your undergarment, please."

"Fox, your breeches."

At last, both men were naked, their eyes averted from one another, and
Fox breathed a sigh of relief, for surely it was over now, and the
ladies would allow them to dress.

Instead, Maggie rose and picked up a small case she'd hidden behind a
sofa, placing it on the table. Fox heard Walter's gasp, but did not
understand the reason for it until the contents of the case were revealed.

Several vicious-looking implements of discipline were contained in the
case, and Maggie took them all and lay them carefully on the sofa. Then
she crooked her finger at Walter, who reluctantly approached.

"Bend over this chair here," she instructed, pushing him down so that
his head rested comfortably on the cushion, his bare backside within
easy reach. "Fox, that chair is for you."

At a look from Dana, Fox took his place over the corresponding chair.
Both men, if they raised their heads, had a splendid view of the sofa
which held a strap, a cane, a grooved paddle, and a feather. Fox
swallowed hard, wondering what nasty surprise Dana had in store for them
now, for it was obvious that a simple, straightforward spanking was not
to be.

"Our next game of chance involves your favorite gambling implement, the
dice," Dana announced brightly, reaching for the pair Maggie had placed
in the center of the small table.

"First, I shall roll one die. If I get a one, you will be punished with
the paddle. A two is for the strap. A three means the cane, and a four
means the feather. A five will earn you punishment with the bare hand."

"My lady--what does a six mean?" Fox asked, attempting to hide the
quaver in his voice, and she smiled broadly.

"Six is your lucky number," she said blandly.

"Then," Maggie continued, "we will roll both dice at once, and the
number rolled determines how many strokes you will receive with the
chosen implement. Isn't this fun, boys?"

Neither man deigned to answer her, and she did not seem to expect a
response. "Dana, you go first. After all, the entire plan was hatched by
Fox, so he deserves the place of honor."

"Absolutely, Mother," Dana agreed, shaking a single die in her hand and
letting it roll across the table.

Fox watched it fearfully, praying for a six, but instead she rolled a
three. The cane! First thing, he must endure that vicious cane! He
begged the Goddess to allow her next roll to be low, and to his
gratitude, she came up with a three.

"Three strokes with the cane," she said, grabbing it up and coming
around behind him. "I expect any man who is brave enough to venture
alone at night into a rough tavern in the village to be brave enough to
endure almost any punishment," she warned before the first stroke fell
upon his unprotected flesh.

Fox screeched into the chair cushion, clutching at the fabric wildly,
and held on for dear life while she delivered the strokes. He sniffed
back a few tears that stung his eyelids, glad of the short reprieve, and
watched while Dana returned the cane to its place.

"Our turn, Walter dear," said Maggie gaily, catching up a die, and had
to bite back her laughter at his expression when she rolled a four.

"I'd really rather have the cane," he muttered weakly, but she took her
second roll with pleasure.

"Now, Walter, we mustn't cheat, as you did with Lady Rutherford. Going
to her chamber alone, a libertine like that, to try and trick her with
loaded dice! Why, she might have taken all manner of liberties with you,
had I not arrived in the nick of time," she scolded, winking at him when
she produced a seven.

"How will you do strokes with the feather, Mother?" Dana asked
curiously, and Maggie told her to just watch.

She stood behind her trembling husband, bent over, and started at his
ankles, drawing the feather slowly up one leg, across one smooth
buttock, up his back, across his shoulders, and down the other side
until at last she reached his opposite ankle. Walter, who had bit his
lip hard and clenched his eyes shut against the tender agony, made a
strangled sound when she began her second journey with the feather. By
the time she had finished the seventh pass over his body he was
writhing, pleading with her for her mercy, and completely undone. Maggie
set the feather aside with satisfaction and motioned for her daughter to
take a turn.

They played the game for over an hour, both men experiencing every
implement of discipline at least once, and by the time they considered
their men suitably punished, Walter and Fox were exhausted and
thoroughly chastened. Both were sporting very red backsides as well, and
Maggie informed them both that they were to remain in their chambers for
the rest of the day.

Getting back into his chamber without being seen by the servants was
easy for Walter, for it was only two doors down the corridor, but Fox
practically ran through the house to get to his room before he could be
spotted. Dana followed more slowly, carrying the clothing he had
discarded earlier, and waved gaily to her mother as she departed.

When she entered their bedchamber, she was surprised to see Fox on his
knees just inside the door, his face quite green.

"I--my lady, I am not well," he said inadequately, just before losing
his breakfast all over the expensive Aubusson carpet.

"Oh dear," Dana said, opening the door and calling to the servant she'd
just passed in the corridor. "Mariah, send Alex up with cleaning
supplies. Lord Fox is ill."

"Come now, sweeting, let me help you into bed. I did not realize my
creative method of discipline had sickened you."

"It wasn't...it wasn't that, my lady," he told her weakly as she pulled
him into her arms, holding the mug of water Mariah brought to his lips.
"I've been feeling ill for several days. I must have caught a sickness."

"And why did you not tell me you were unwell?" she demanded, settling
him gently in the bed and covering his nakedness with the sheet.

"It did not seem important, compared to what Walter was faced with."

She shook her head in exasperation, but said nothing. It was so like
kind-hearted Fox to forget his own woes in the face of another's trouble.

Maggie arrived a few moments later, having been summoned by the ruckus,
and her daughter explained what had happened.

"Fox believes he has caught a sickness," Dana commented, glancing up at
her mother knowingly.

"Indeed, perhaps it is that," Maggie agreed. "We shall find out soon
enough."

Fox lay abed while the women bustled around him and Alex arrived to
grudgingly clean the carpet. He shut his eyes, curling up into a ball,
and wondered why he didn't feel any better after emptying his stomach.
He always had before.

"Alex, send Aja with some broth for Lord Fox," Dana ordered carelessly
when he had finished and turned to go. "Oh, and Alex?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"No more sleeping in the attic for you."

She did not see the look of pure venom he shot her, so intent was she
upon Fox, but it was not lost upon Maggie. Lady Maggie followed the
servant into the corridor, grabbing him by the ear and jerking him
around to face her.

"I suggest you do not anger my daughter further, Alex," she advised
grimly. "She will not be inclined to be lenient with you a second time."

Alex stared at the woman before him in shock. Lenient? It had been the
most horrible punishment he'd ever had the misfortune to endure, he
almost retorted, but instead, he wisely bit back his words with a
muttered, "Yes, my lady," and fled for the kitchen.

Fox had barely begun to sip the broth Aja brought when he bolted to the
chamber pot, vomiting it up violently.

"What is wrong with me?" he moaned, leaning his head wearily against the
side of the bed while Dana bathed his forehead with cool water.

"Well," she confided, "I am not yet certain, but I believe there is a
good chance we are with child."

"We?"

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"But Dana, women are the ones who have babies--why would /*I*/ be sick?"

She furrowed her brow thoughtfully--it had not occurred to her that Fox
would be so completely uninformed in the ways of childbearing.

"Do you not know of the mystical bond that is formed between a woman and
a man when they are to have a child?" she asked, and sighed when he
shook his head in confusion. She helped him climb back into bed, then
sat gently beside him, stroking through his hair with soothing fingers.

"Women are the ones who actually carry the children, because we are the
stronger sex," she explained. "It takes a woman to endure the
inconvenience of having her body grow large and unwieldy during
pregnancy. However..." She bit her lip, unsure how to explain to him the
uncomfortable role men were required to play in childbearing. "The
father of the child is sometimes ill for the first few months of the
pregnancy."

He stared up at her in disbelief. "Months? /*Months*/? I'm going to feel
this way for /*months*/?" he demanded.

"There is no way to predict exactly how long it will last, Fox, and
every babe is different. It could be that the worst is behind you already."

Fox considered his still unsettled stomach and covered his face with his
hands. "Sweet Goddess!" he whispered. "I cannot bear it!"

"You can, and you will," Dana assured him, "just as other
fathers-to-be." She smiled. "If it is any consolation, I will be the one
suffering pain when the actual delivery of the child occurs. Again, it
is something men are too weak to endure, so our Goddess has given the
job to women."

"Dana?"

"Yes, sweeting?"

"I do not wish to have a child."

She laughed at his plaintive words. "Whether you wish it or not, I
believe we are to be blessed with either a daughter or a son in a very
few months."

"Perhaps I shall make certain this is the only child we have."

She smiled with amused indulgence. "And how will you do that?"

"Perhaps I shall withdraw from you before I spill my seed in the
future," he said sleepily, closing his eyes, enjoying the comfort of her
stroking fingers in his hair.

She laughed again. "I am afraid you could no more do that than I could
stop taking my pleasure of you," she informed him. "It is in the nature
of men and women to create children. And just think, Fox, I will have
daughters to carry on my name, and you will have sons to teach all the
manly arts to. We shall be often blessed with children, I know it is true."

"How often?"

"Oh...perhaps once a year. Perhaps once every two years."

He groaned again, and she laughed tenderly. "Sleep now, my sweet Fox.
When you awaken, I shall know for certain if we are to have a child."



Exhausted from his near sleepless night, his punishment and his illness,
he slept straight through until the next day, and when he awakened she
greeted him with a smile as sunny as the morning. Fox, who felt as if he
had been trapped on a runaway carriage for several days, frowned sourly
at her before accepting the tiny sips of broth she forced upon him.

"Mother has examined me, and it was as I suspected," she told him
joyfully. "I am with child."

He nodded, his head falling weakly to the pillow. "When?" he whispered.

"She will be born in early spring."

Even through his illness, Fox was irritated at her words, and raised one
eyebrow questioningly. "She? What if we are to have a son, my lady?"

Dana shook her head, refusing to allow his mood to spoil her joy. "That
is with the Goddess, true," she conceded. "I suppose it is possible our
first child could be a boy. In that case, we shall simply have to try
again for a daughter right away."

He grimaced. "No, no, I'm certain my lady is correct. It is a daughter
you carry. We shall not need to have another child for years--perhaps
never, in fact."

She brushed the damp hair back from his forehead tenderly. "I must go
down to breakfast, if you can spare my company," she told him. "Alex
will be available, should you require assistance, and I have a light
schedule of patients to see this morning. I will be home shortly after
luncheon, unless an emergency arises."

He made another face. "My lady..." It was as if he wanted to speak, but
was reluctant to do so.

"What is it, sweeting?" she asked softly. "Are you sickening again?"

He shook his head briefly. "No, but Dana...Alex..." Fox bit his lip,
unable to voice his concern, because truly Dana did not know of all the
trouble between her husband and the upstart maid.

"I know you dislike him, Fox, but attending to your needs is part of his
duties. If he is insolent to you, inform me and he will be punished."

"No! I mean, no, my lady, I'm certain he will not act rudely again, it's
just...I was wondering..."

"Do not be afraid to speak to me, Fox."

He gazed up at her from beneath his long eyelashes, mustering as much of
a smile as he possibly could. "I meant to ask you...but of course, I
have no right to request favors from my lady, not after my recent
behavior. Indeed, I deserve much punishment, and my lady is most
generous--"

"Fox, do you think me idiotic?"

He was taken aback at her words. "No, my lady, of course not!"

"Then why, pray tell, are you speaking to me as if I had no more
intelligence than a silly school boy?"

His mouth dropped open, then closed again without forming a word.

"Masculine wiles do not become you, Fox--at least not those which you do
not employ on a regular basis. By the Goddess, I believe if I let you go
on, you would be batting your eyelashes at me within minutes."

Fox, who had considered doing that very thing, had the good grace to blush.

"If you desire something of me, by all means, ask it. I will either
grant your request or refuse it, but do us both the credit of not
playing the part of a feather-headed ingenue. It does not suit you."

"I am sorry, my lady," he said sincerely, looking up into her deep blue
eyes. "I should not have acted in such a manner."

She smiled. "Quite so. Now, tell me what it is you are so reluctant to
ask."

He sighed, plucking nervously at the sheets with his fingers. "You know
that I dislike Alex, and he returns the feeling with enthusiasm. If it
please my lady, I would like to take the boy, Aja, and train him to be
my personal maid."

She said nothing, only looked thoughtful, and he continued in a rush, "I
have given the matter much consideration--he could sleep in the small
chamber at the end of the corridor, it isn't in use, and is too tiny for
guests, and that would place him nearby in case I needed him, and it
makes sense, especially now that I am so ill--"

"And Aja is young enough to still be a virgin, and this would remove him
from the reach of the servants and place him under your protection," she
finished for him, and he stared at her, open-mouthed. She laughed aloud
at his expression.

"Did you believe I did not discern your true motive, Fox Scully?" she
asked, amused, and he smiled with good grace.

"I should learn that my lady knows all that is in my mind," he allowed
at last. "The boy is young, innocent, and has no mother or older sisters
to protect him. I should hate to see him end up..."

She took his chin between her fingers and studied his face carefully,
seeing only clear honesty in his eyes, before giving him an indulgent
smile. "Very well, Fox, if it would please you, you may take Aja as your
personal maid. However, Natalie has him working in the kitchen this week
while her assistant is visiting his ailing mother, so for now, I'm
afraid you will still be forced to deal with Alex."

His beaming face lit up the room. "Thank you, my lady, thank you!" He
raised her hand to his lips and kissed it fervently, and she smoothed
back his hair one last time.

"I must go, then," she said briskly, rising to her feet. "But remember,
my husband, no matter how you dislike him, Alex is here to serve you. If
you require his assistance, you will ring for him, do you understand?"

He nodded. "Yes, Dana."

"I shall send Walter to check on you after breakfast."

"Yes, my lady."



"Fox, what on earth--?" Dana stared about her, at the chamber that was
still in disarray, wrinkled her nose at the ghastly smell, and strode
over to throw open a window forcefully. "Where is Alex?"

"I--never rang for him, my lady," he told her in a low voice, pulling
himself to a sitting position on the bed.

She gaped at him in disbelief for a moment before giving the bell cord a
sharp tug.

"Please, Dana, that's not necessary," he said, scrambling to stand up
before grabbing at the bedside table for balance. "I'm quite well, I can
straighten the room myself."

Dana simply stared. "Fox, have you gone quite mad?" she demanded.
"Firstly, you are not well, you are barely able to stand upon your own
feet. Secondly, it is not your responsibility to clean our chamber, and
if you are feeling so much better, I have other activities I would
involve you in."

He blushed at her wicked innuendo, sinking to a chair when Alex entered
the chamber.

"Clean this room immediately," Dana ordered. "The bed wants changing as
well. When you are finished, report to me in the downstairs salon. I
wish to reassess your employment contract."

"Y-yes, my lady," Alex stammered, eyes wide, and began to fly about the
room immediately, setting it to rights.

Dana left the chamber, and Fox buried his face in his hands as Alex went
about his duties, restoring the room to its former pristine state. When
the movements became quiet, Fox risked a glance up and gasped in horror.
The maid was standing before Dana's dresser, going through her jewelry
chest.

"Alex, have you taken leave of your senses? Leave those things alone!"
Fox commanded, and Alex turned to him with an insolent smile. Fox
watched as the maid slipped a golden neck band into the pocket of his
breeches.

"Put that back!" he ordered in a fiercely low voice, but Alex only
strolled to the door of the chamber.

"If I am to be released from my contract, I shall not go empty-handed,"
he informed Fox. "And if you say anything to anyone..." He left the
threat hanging, but Fox knew, and fumed helplessly as the maid
disappeared down the corridor.



"Alex, your behavior and performance have been completely
unsatisfactory," Dana said briskly when the maid entered the salon.

Alex stared at the floor, the picture of abject penitence.

"You are rude, disobedient, disrespectful, and you have neglected your
duties. Is there anything you would like to offer in your own defense
before I tear up your contract and send you on your way?"

His eyes shimmered with tears when he raised them to her face, and his
voice contained just the right amount of pleading.

"My lady, I beg of you, please give me another chance to prove my
loyalty to you. I swear to you, I shall not disappoint you again."

She rose and walked around him, looking him up and down critically. "Why
should I do so?" she demanded at last.

His shoulders slumped and he appeared ready to cry. "My lady, when I
first came to you for employment...I lied to you."

"Lied?"

He nodded shamefully. "I--I said I was an upstairs maid, but in truth, I
have never...you see my lady, I needed employment so badly, and I had
already spoken to Melvin...he said it was the only position available..."

"I see," she said at last. "And what kind of work are you able to
competently do, Alex?"

"I warmed my last lady's bed."

"You shall not be warming mine."

He nodded. "You will dissolve our contract, then?" he asked softly.

Dana leaned against the door, looking him up and down slowly again. He
blushed beneath her scrutiny, but did not flinch.

"Perhaps not," she replied at length. "Tell me, Alex, are you able to
make yourself useful in the kitchen?" Then, pretending to reconsider,
she mused, "No, that would never do. You would poison us all."

He said nothing.

"How badly do you wish to remain in my employ?"

"Oh, my lady, I would do anything you require!" he answered fervently.
"I do not know what I shall do if you release me from my contract
without a reference. Please give me a chance to prove my loyalty to you."

"Very well. Come with me, Alex. From now on, you will be working with
the livestock."

"The-the stables, my lady?" he clarified as he trotted after her.

"No, you shall go nowhere near my prize horses, Alex. You will be
working under the direct supervision of Gena, mucking out the pens where
the pigs and sheep reside."

She ignored his expression of horrified disbelief, stalking toward the
barns, hauling the shocked man behind her. Before Alex knew what had
happened he was handed a shovel by Gena, a woman large enough to easily
challenge Roberta in a wrestling match, with a wicked sense of humor and
a ready crop if he slowed in his work, and instructed to clean all the
pigpens before suppertime.



"So, Aja, do you think you will be able to handle the duties of my
personal maid?" Fox asked seriously, putting his hands on the boy's
shoulders and looking him in the eye. Aja glanced around the bedchamber,
thinking of all the things Lord Fox had told him the position involved,
then nodded soberly.

"Yes, my lord, I know I can do it."

Fox smiled widely. "Excellent," he said. "Go and fetch your things. You
will be sleeping in a chamber down the corridor from me."

Aja looked stunned. "You mean--I am no longer to live in the servants'
quarters?"

"Oh no, Aja, I need you near me at all times, especially now, when I am
not feeling well."

"Yes, Lord Fox!" Aja agreed eagerly. "I shall return at once!"

The boy scampered down the stairs quickly, racing for the shed where he
slept with the other male servants, gathering up his meager belongings
with haste. He wrapped everything in a thin shirt and left the shed, his
eyes intent upon the back door of the manor house, when he heard a voice
call from the nearby trees.

"Boy! Come over here!"

Aja looked around warily, but upon seeing the friendly face that peered
at him from behind a shrub, he approached without fear.

"Yes?" he asked, examining the man, who was dirty and tired, and looked
as if he hadn't had a full meal in days.

"What is your name?"

"Aja."

"Well, Aja, I need you to deliver a message to your lord for me."

Aja cocked his head curiously. "Which lord, Sir? There are two here at
Scully manor."

"Lord Fox. I need you to bring him to me."

"And why would you be needing Lord Fox, may I ask, Sir?"

The man shifted impatiently from one foot to another. "Please, Aja, just
tell him to come to me. Tell him it's urgent that I speak to him."

Aja nodded in understanding--Lord Fox was one for odd associates, all
upon the estate knew that. "What name may I give him?" he asked,
preparing to leave, for he had told Lord Fox he would return quickly.

The man's eyes flickered toward the house--would Fox remember him?
Softly he answered the boy.

"Isaac. Isaac Tremont."

End chapter 10



"Aja--I was afraid you had forgotten your way," Fox smiled when the boy
returned. "Come, I will show you to your new chamber."

"Lord Fox, wait, a man--" Aja began, out of breath, and Fox paused, his
brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"A man?" he asked, his hand on the chamber door.

"Hiding outside, my lord, in the trees behind the servants quarters. He
asked for you."

Fox swallowed hard and stared at Aja for a moment before asking, "Did he
give a name?"

"He said his name was Isaac Tremont, my lord."

Fox felt the room begin to go black, and reached for the wall for
support. Aja, seeing his master about to faint, wrapped his arms around
Lord Scully's waist and eased him to a chair.

"My lord, are you all right?" he asked anxiously, patting the older
man's face gently until Fox opened his eyes. "Place your head between
your knees."

"I am all right, Aja," he whispered after regaining his bearings. "I was
just suddenly quite dizzy."

Aja smiled knowingly. "Lady Dana is to have a babe," he said confidently.

Fox grinned affectionately at him. "What do you know of such things, my
boy?"

The servant shrugged and replied with a smile, "I have seen it happen
before."

Fox shook his head a bit, rising to a standing position with Aja's
assistance, and allowed the boy to help him to his bed. "You are
entirely too knowledgeable about certain matters for a child, Aja."

"Well, I cannot unlearn what I have learned," Aja pointed out, removing
his master's boots and pulling a sheet over him.

Fox smiled. "That is quite true, I'm afraid. Well, since I am unable to
show it to you, your chamber is the small one at the end of the
corridor. Put your things there, then go and tell this man to wait for
me. I will see him later, when I am recovered a bit."

"Yes, my lord."

"And Aja?"

"Yes, Lord Fox?" The boy turned back to his new master.

"Tell no one of this man."

Aja nodded and disappeared from the room, while Fox stared at the
ceiling in fear. What did Isaac want, and why was he back in Azure?
Surely he must know the danger to both of them, should he be discovered.
Gnawing on his lip thoughtfully, Fox began to hatch a plan.



"Aja, I require your assistance," Fox said when the young man had
answered his ring.

"Of course, my lord," Aja smiled, quite happy with his new position. His
first day of duties had been relatively light, he had never had so fine
a room as he now called his own, and Lord Fox was very kind.

"I must meet with Mr. Tremont, and I do not wish anyone to be bothered
about it, so my lady does not need to discover that I have left this
chamber. Can you distract her, should she come upstairs before I have
returned?" He gazed at the boy, who returned his look with a confident
smile.

"Of course I can do that, Lord Fox. How much time will you require?" Aja
had the look of a scamp about him, which Fox found quite endearing.

"Not long. I will return as swiftly as I am able." Fox picked up the
piece of parchment upon which he had written a letter, rolled it
carefully and stuck it in his pocket. Then he left the chamber, creeping
carefully down the stairs and out the back entrance, breathing a sigh of
relief when he did not encounter either servants or family members.

He had gone upstairs directly after supper, Dana insisting he rest, as
she said he appeared quite peaked. She, Maggie and Walter had remained
in the salon, the ladies no doubt playing one of their eternal games of
chess while Walter read to himself, and it seemed the perfect time for
Fox to talk with Isaac.

Making his way across the yard in the twilight, he approached the clump
of trees where Aja had said the man would be waiting.

"Isaac?" he called in a loud whisper, and immediately received his answer.

"Here, my lord."

Glancing over his shoulder one last time, Fox slipped behind the shrub
and saw Isaac. The poor man was dressed in rags, and his face was thin
and drawn. Fox made a mental note to have Aja bring him some food.

"Isaac, what are you doing here?" Fox asked urgently. "Do you not
realize the danger? You are a dead man if Lady Fowley discovers you!"

"I know, my lord, but I felt I had no choice," Isaac replied. "I believe
that a man I know as Alex Krycek is employed here at Scully Manor, and I
had to warn you of him. Then I learned in the village that you are now
Lord Scully the Younger, and that makes the danger greater still."

"But--"

"My lord, I promised you I would never reveal what you had done for me,
but I did. I thought Alex was my trustworthy friend, and our Lady had
provided the servants with a barrel of ale as a Christmas gift. I am
unused to spirits, but Alex kept filling my mug--he may have even added
something to it, I cannot be sure, and I...I am afraid I told him the
entire story. When his contract was up, he told me he was coming to
Azure to seek employment. He offered to carry a letter to you thanking
you for what you had done, and swore to deliver it safely. I did not
know until later he could not be trusted--the other servants had tales
to tell of him that filled me with terror. He is a traitor and a thief.
I had to warn you."

"He has been using the letter to blackmail me," Fox said grimly.

Isaac stared at him in appalled horror. "My most humble apologies, my
lord--I will do what I must in order to rectify the situation. I will go
to Lady Fowley at once and--"

"You will do nothing of the sort!" Fox retorted. "I did not save you
only to have you throw your life away for me now. Here." He thrust the
parchment into Isaac's hands. "You must travel to the next village to
the north, called Webster. There you will inquire as to the estate of
Lord Jake Winters. Give this letter to Lord Winters and tell him I sent
you. He will take care of you."

Isaac looked at the parchment in his hands, then at Fox, his eyes
shining with gratitude. "I do not deserve such kindness," he choked.

"Nonsense," Fox said briskly. "You did not deserve Lady Fowley's
cruelty, or Alex Krycek's deception. Now, wait here a bit. I shall have
my maid return with some food for you--you look half-starved. Then you
must make haste. You must be far gone from this region by morning."

Isaac nodded and sank back into the trees, while Fox carefully made his
way into the house. He was relieved to hear the sound of his wife's
voice drift from the salon, and climbed the stairs as silently as a
ghost. When he entered his chamber, Aja was waiting for him.

"All clear, my lord," he said brightly, and Fox nodded, feeling
weariness and nausea begin to overtake him again, now that his mission
was completed.

"Aja, help me undress and get into bed," he instructed. "Then you must
go to the kitchen and tell Natalie I said to give you the leftover meat
pies and scones from tea. You may eat one, if you are hungry, but take
the rest to Isaac. Do not allow yourself to be seen. Can you do that?"

He grasped the boy's arm and looked into his eyes urgently, and Aja knew
this was very important to Lord Fox.

"All us boys know how to get on the good side of Cook," he replied
staunchly, and once his master was settled abed, made his way downstairs
to obey his orders. He simply smiled and thanked Natalie when she
commented on how much a growing boy could eat, then slipped outside and
gave the leftovers to Isaac, bidding him haste and the company of the
Goddess.

To Lord Scully's great relief, his wife did not discover that he had
left their chamber that evening, and he prayed that Isaac had managed to
reach safety. The note he had written to his cousin was vague, but Jake
would understand, Fox told himself. They had been as close as brothers
while children, and were still dear friends although they did not often
visit.



Several days later, the family was at supper, where Dana was doing her
best to tempt Fox with tasty morsels of chicken and pastry, when the
great knocker at the front door resounded through the lower floor of the
manor. They all looked at each other, somewhat surprised, for the hour
for callers was past.

Roberta, who had answered the knock, threw open the dining room door
with a flourish and stood aside to admit their visitor.

Dana gave a small shriek of delight as she rose from the table.
"Melissa!" She stood back to look at her sister after embracing her in a
fierce hug. "What are you doing here? We did not think to see you again
so soon!"

Lady Maggie, upon hearing their voices, joined them quickly. She flashed
a fond smile at the sight of her two daughters' loving greeting of one
another.

"Mother!" Melissa greeted, receiving the same warm welcome from Lady
Maggie. "I am happy to see you looking so well."

Maggie gave a short laugh. "Of course I am well, my dear. Walter keeps
me young. What a pleasant surprise your visit is--you are just in time
for supper. Roberta, bring some champagne."

"I have exciting news," Melissa confided, slipping her arms through
theirs and walking toward the table. "I have been given a promotion."

"A promotion!" Dana exclaimed. "You were already a General of the
Queen's Guard."

"Yes, well now I am Commanding General of the Guard," Melissa told her
modestly. "I was given a week leave before I am to assume my new duties."

"You will be in charge of the entire Queen's Guard?" Dana asked,
impressed, for it was truly one of the highest and most prestigious
positions in the land.

"I am afraid so, Sister," she replied, her eyes dancing. "If any harm
should befall our country or our Queen, you will know who is at fault!"

"Nonsense," Maggie chided as she resumed her place beside Walter. "Set
another place for Lady Melissa," she instructed a servant, who bowed and
left the room immediately.

"Walter, Fox," Melissa greeted the men, who smiled at her shyly. "How
lovely to see you both."

"Welcome, and congratulations, Lady Melissa," Fox ventured, sipping at
his water. "We always enjoy your company."

"Dana, I had occasion to visit France last month, and I brought you a
decanter of brandy to replace what these naughty boys imbibed," she
teased, for Melissa had found great amusement in reading her mother's
account of the husbands' folly.

"Thank you, Sister," Dana replied, her face glowing. "I am afraid it
will be some months before I am able to enjoy it. You see, I have a bit
of news of my own." Melissa raised an eyebrow and Dana continued, "Fox
and I are to have a child."

Melissa jumped from her chair to embrace her sister, then came around to
take her brother-in-law's hand and kiss it lightly. "My congratulations
to you both," she told them, highly pleased at the announcement.

"I, for one, fail to see why you must deny yourself brandy simply
because you are with child," Maggie observed, sipping at the wine in her
goblet. "I never did so, and all of my children were strong and healthy,
even the boys."

"I know, Mother, but I truly believe that if one would not give brandy
to a small child, one should not give it to a babe that is only
beginning to form. Perhaps it would not harm the child, but neither
shall my abstinence. Besides," she dimpled, "mayhap it is a male babe I
carry, in which case he should not have spirits at all."

"I absolutely forbid it," Maggie announced sternly, but with a twinkle
in her eye. "Scully women always bear a daughter first."

The conversation and laughter continued while the family enjoyed their
happy reunion, and once they had retired to the salon, Maggie and
Melissa enjoyed a tiny bit of the precious brandy at Dana's insistence.

"Well, Sister," Melissa teased, sipping slowly at the dark liquid. "Have
you managed to locate a husband for me?"

Dana smiled as if she held a very great secret and replied blandly,
"Perhaps I have. I will know on the morrow."

"Whatever do you mean, Dana?" asked Fox curiously, but she refused to
clarify, only shaking her head at him, and challenged her sister to a
game of chess.



After breakfast the next morning, Dana and Maggie departed for the
village, for they both had patients to see that day. Walter was working
at his accounts, and Fox had taken to his bed again. Melissa decided a
walk in the beautiful Scully gardens would be just the thing after the
hustle and bustle of London.

She was admiring some particularly fine rosebushes when she heard the
sound of a horse approaching. Turning to see who was visiting them, she
discovered to her great surprise, that the rider was a man, accompanied
by only one female, a huge, brawny woman with a face that would have
frightened most men. A small valise was strapped to his saddle, and he
was not followed by a carriage bearing luggage. His clothing was dusty,
as if he had traveled a good distance, but his face was the most
entrancing she had seen in her life.

He saw her, reigned in his horse, and looked her up and down with an
expression of appreciation that was quite improper for a man. "Well," he
said at length. "You are not Lady Dana."

"Nor are you Lord Fox, although you look enough like him to be his
twin," she retorted, wondering at the cheeky behavior of this rascal,
and where his wife or chaperone might be.

He gave her a dazzling smile, dismounted, and extended a hand, which she
accepted with amusement, kissing the fingers lightly before letting go.

"I am Lord Jake Winters, his cousin, my lady," he replied.

Her face lit up with recognition. "Jake, you impudent scamp! I have not
seen you since you were a very small child! You did not have such a look
of Fox, back then. Now, I must confess, your beauty surpasses even his,
and I had thought him the handsomest man in the land."

Fox would have blushed prettily at such a compliment, but Jake merely
smiled, as if accepting her words as his due. "And you, my lady, have
eyes like the bluest ocean, in spite of that dull military uniform," he
answered, looking deeply into them. "We must become better acquainted
whilst I am here."

"Indeed. And do you always speak so to Ladies not of your acquaintance?"
she said, challenged but fascinated by his forward behavior, for she had
never seen a gentleman behave thusly.

"Only those as lovely as you," he replied with a smile. "And yet, we are
acquainted--you remember I used to play with Fox and Dana both when we
were children."

They stared at one another silently for a few moments before the large
woman cleared her throat pointedly and Jake seemed to return to reality.

"This is Brunhilda, my watchdog," he announced testily. "If you will
excuse me, I must take my horse to the stable. Am I too late for luncheon?"

"It is an hour away."

"Excellent. I am famished from my travels."

"I will make certain a place is set for you. But Lord Winters, did you
not bring other servants to accompany you?" she called.

"I never travel with them," he shouted back. "Annoying creatures,
servants."

She watched him disappear toward the stables, a smile tugging at the
corners of her mouth, before turning to the large woman.

"Brunhilda?" she questioned with one eyebrow raised. The woman threw
back her head and laughed heartily, and Melissa thought she saw a bit of
kindness in spite of the hard face.

"My name is Dorothy, my lady. Lord Winters detests having a female
escort, but Her Royal Highness insists. I am the only concession he
makes; he refuses to travel with servants."

"He is unmarried?" Melissa asked curiously, her eyes drawn to the man
who was now leading his horse into the stables. He made a fine figure,
one she could scarcely look away from, and Melissa wondered briefly if
this was a joke Dana had planned in advance, or if the coincidence of
Jake's arrival was real. "Has he truly no servants?"

"His lordship does fer himself," Dorothy answered. "Oh, he has servants
and the like at home, but he's a wandering soul, is Lord Jake. Hates
living in the country. His lady wife died a few years ago, and she left
him a Free Agent. Now, as a ward of Her Majesty, he travels as much as
he is able."

"Really," murmured Melissa speculatively. "Thus the Queen's direction. I
wonder how he'd take to London."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and strode inside, thoughts of
the delectable Lord Winters intruding on her former peace of mind in a
most alarming way. A more forward, impudent creature she could not
imagine. He might make this visit even more interesting than anticipated.



"Jake!" Dana greeted him happily when she arrived home shortly after
luncheon. Lord Winters grabbed her 'round the waist and swung her in a
circle before setting her back on her feet.

"My lady!" he smiled, kissing her cheek. "I am delighted to see you. You
are looking radiant."

"Brash rascal!" she replied as she brushed her hair back from her face.
"We are to have a child, Jake." His face took on a knowing expression.

"Ah, that is why my cousin is not feeling his best?"

"He is having a rather bad day," she confided. "He is resting in our
chamber at present. I did not tell him of your visit, for I wished to
surprise him. You may go up and see him, if you like. Surely he is awake
by now."

"Thank you, Lady Dana," he replied, caressing her cheek lightly. "I am
very happy to hear your news. In which chamber shall I find Fox?"

"Roberta will take you there," she said, gesturing toward the butler,
who nodded slightly, a befitting courtesy for a man, and led Jake away.

"So, that is your Fox cub's cousin," observed Melissa, who had entered
the hall to greet her sister. She watched Jake thoughtfully as he
climbed the stairs, enjoying the way his tan breeches stretched across
his firm buttocks. "A very attractive man, but certainly out of the
ordinary. And did you plan this, Little Sister, or did he simply drop
into your hands like a ripe plum?"

Dana smiled broadly. "It was all the doing of the Goddess," she
insisted. "I received a communication from Jake yesterday telling me he
planned to come immediately for a visit, for he had a sudden urge to see
his cousin. When you asked me about a husband after supper last night,
it was all I could do to keep the secret."

"He is very odd," Melissa said, still staring at the spot Jake had
vacated. "Quite forward and cheeky, and seemingly not possessed of the
usual male behaviors and apprehensions. We had an interesting discussion
over luncheon. He has no women in his family at all? I am truly
surprised that a ward of the Crown is allowed to travel unaccompanied
except for one groom."

Dana nodded. "Dorothy. He pretends to hate her, but she's kind enough,
and he must have some protection. He is a widow. His wife died quite
tragically four years ago. In truth, Melissa, she killed herself."

Melissa frowned. "That must have been devastating for him. What made her
do such a thing?"

"Indeed it was, for he adored her. Her healer had discovered a canker of
the womanly parts. She had not much time left, and would have gone in
pain. Instead, she took matters into her own hands."

Dana was almost certain she heard Melissa mutter an expletive under her
breath, but let the matter slide.

"However," she continued, "Lady Iris did do him the favor of leaving him
a Free Agent in her Last Requests. Because he has no children, the Queen
has not seen fit to allow any Lady to claim him in marriage."

"His holdings?"

"Quite vast."

"Perhaps Her Highness would make an exception for her new Commanding
General. Especially if I assured her that Lord Winters' lands mean
nothing to me."

"My thoughts exactly," Dana agreed, slipping her arm through her
sister's and leading her into the library. "And now, Melissa, tell me
all the news of London. We have scarcely had an opportunity to converse
since you arrived."



"Fox? May I come in?" Jake asked softly after rapping on the chamber
door. The young boy who had admitted him was just finishing the chore of
straightening the room. He stared at Jake as if he'd seen a ghost, and
Jake smiled. It was not the first time he had encountered such a reaction.

"Jake!" Fox cried in disbelief, holding out his hand toward his cousin.
"Is it really you?"

"Indeed, Cousin," he replied, coming forward and clasping the hand that
was offered. "I am pleased to hear your news, although I wish you did
not have to feel so ill."

Fox smiled weakly. "I am growing used to it," he allowed. "This is Aja,
my maid. He is of much assistance to me."

"Greetings, Aja," Jake nodded. "I am Lord Jake Winters, your master's
wayward cousin. You are not seeing double, I assure you."

"Aja, if you are quite finished, I shall not be needing you again until
after supper," Fox said. "Please tell Lady Dana that I do not wish
anything save some clear broth."

"Yes, my lord," Aja replied, bowing to the two men and backing out of
the room.

Once the chamber door was safely closed, Jake quickly turned to Fox.

"Fox, what scheme have you afoot here?" he demanded gently. "I received
a man three days ago who bore a rather troubling letter from you.
Although your note was written in general terms, I received the distinct
impression that you were in a great deal of trouble."

"Did you take Isaac in?" Fox asked anxiously, and Jake nodded.

"I did, because you requested it. The man is an excellent worker, but
has yet to regain his full strength."

"I believe he traveled here from London with no food at all," Fox observed.

Jake smiled warmly. "But you sent him to me well-laden, I am guessing."

"Leftover scones and meat pies were all I could manage without arousing
suspicion," Fox said regretfully. "I do hope it was enough for the poor
man."

"I suspect he considered it manna from the Goddess!" Jake retorted,
seating himself gently on the bed so as not to disturb his cousin. "Now,
Fox, no more dodging about. An explanation, if you please."

Fox hastily told Jake the entire story, beginning with him finding Isaac
chained in the rain, left to die, and ending with the man's unexpected
appearance a few days earlier at Scully Manor.

Jake's face darkened when Fox told him of Alex's blackmail, and inwardly
he vowed to protect his cousin from this traitor, for truly, Fox was
more like a brother to him than a mere cousin, and Jake had no other
siblings.

"I know what you are thinking, Cousin, but we simply cannot kill him,"
Fox warned. "He claims there is someone else who possesses a copy of the
letter, and I have no choice but to believe him."

"We shall see," Jake replied thoughtfully.

The cousins were interrupted by a knock at the door, and a moment later
it swung open to reveal Melissa, carrying a mug of warm broth for Fox.
Jake scrambled quickly to his feet while both men raised their eyebrows
in tandem at the sight of a Lady doing a servant's job. Melissa merely
smiled and ignored their confusion.

"Fox, I am happy to see you looking better than this morning," she told
him, handing him the mug. "Dana insists you drink all of this, naturally."

"Of course," he said wryly, raising the mug to his lips and taking a
tentative sip.

"I am also to inform Lord Winters that tea awaits us," she continued as
she reached firmly for Jake's hand. "Shall I summon Aja to sit with you,
Fox?"

Fox looked from Jake to Melissa, noted the way they seemed transfixed
upon each other, and gave a little snort which went unnoticed. "No thank
you, my lady, I am quite content," he replied.

"May I?" Melissa asked, offering Jake her arm, and nodding goodbye to
his cousin, Jake accepted it immediately.

He stared at their retreating backs in wonder. It was obvious even to
one as inexperienced as he that Jake and Melissa found one another
captivating. "Indeed, I should not be surprised if Lady Melissa
petitions Her Highness for Jake within the month!" he muttered to
himself. With a light sigh, he wondered if Melissa would ever tell Jake
she loved him.



"Will you walk with me in the garden, Lady Melissa?" Jake offered after
supper, extending his arm with a saucy smile, and he did not flinch when
Melissa raked her eyes up and down his enticing body suggestively.

"Unchaperoned?" she questioned, and he threw back his head and laughed
in delight.

"Do you plan to take advantage of me, my lady?" he asked, his white
teeth flashing as he grinned at her.

"I do not make it a practice to take advantage of helpless men, but
then, you strike me as far from helpless."

He gave a light snort of amusement. "Well then, perhaps I can protect
the Queen's Commanding General, and we shall both be quite safe."

Melissa was outraged and enchanted by him, but she was also intrigued.
She had never known a man such as Lord Jake--part gentleman and part
coquette--and she found the difference scandalously pleasing. She
ignored the arm he had quite improperly offered her, instead firmly
taking his hand and placing it through her own arm. As they strolled
through the french doors to the terrace, she thought there was a quite
interesting challenge in his eyes.

"Tell me of your wife," she said bluntly as they made their way among
the shrubs and flowers.

Jake was silent for a moment. "You attack issues quite directly," he
observed at last.

"Indeed, I received the impression you preferred plain speaking," she
retorted. "No other gentleman of my acquaintance has ever been so forward."

"Does my behavior displease you, my lady?" Jake asked softly.

"I find it quite...challenging." She grinned. "Dana becomes perturbed
with me because I often have no time for the niceties of life. Tell me
of Lady Iris."

"She was lovely. I worshiped her. She got sick. She killed herself."
They walked on a few more steps before he continued, "At least she did
me the courtesy of leaving me a Free Agent in her Last Requests. I
discovered after her death that she had also been keeping a lover for
many months."

"That must have hurt you deeply."

"It did," he said shortly.

They had reached the end of the gardens, completely shielded from any
inquisitive eyes, and she seated herself upon a convenient bench,
pulling him down beside her.

"Is that why you behave like an undisciplined brat?" she asked
curiously. "Do you think to scare off a Lady with your improper
behavior, so that you do not run the risk of being caught up in a
marriage again?"

He looked at her with a somewhat worried expression for a moment, then
glanced away. "It is not marriage I fear, my lady," he replied soberly,
his eyes fixed on a distant point. "I will not be hurt like that again."

She took his chin gently in her hand and forced him to look at her.

"I do not hurt innocents," she whispered softly just before her lips
claimed his.



Fox watched uneasily while Dana dug through her jewelry chest--he was
not certain she was searching for the neck band Alex had stolen, but
every time she had approached the chest his heart had pounded heavily
and his breathing had become labored. Until tonight, however, she had
not seemed to miss the trinket. His luck had run out, he found in the
next moment when she turned irritated eyes to him.

"I am unable to locate the golden neck band Mother gave me for my last
Name Day," she replied. "Do you think Aja could have misplaced it?"

Fox swallowed hard, remembering Alex arrogantly tucking the neck band
into his pocket and daring him to speak of it. "I do not believe he has
been near your jewelry chest, my lady."

She frowned and turned back to the chest, searching some more, and Fox
came up behind her. She had chosen to wear a gown this evening rather
than her usual trousers, and it left her shoulders bare and gave an
excellent view of her lovely breasts. Glancing down into the chest, he
picked up another neck band and placed it against her skin.

"Gold is lovely on you," he whispered as his lips nuzzled her shoulders,
"but my lady would be stunning in rubies tonight."

She met his eyes in the mirror and smiled. She allowed him to fasten the
ruby neck band about her throat, and her smile grew broader when his
hands lingered over her breasts before sliding down to encircle her waist.

"There is something on your mind, Fox?" she asked, her voice teasing.

"I was wondering," he replied between soft kisses to the back of her
neck, "if my lady was wearing an undergarment beneath her skirt."

She laughed, both delighted and surprised at his unusually forward
behavior, and playfully slapped his hands away.

"I fear your cousin Jake is a bad influence upon you. You will contain
yourself, Husband," she instructed with a teasing smile. "There will be
plenty of time for other activities after our guests have departed.
Indeed, I intend to take you quite thoroughly tonight, my love."

He stood back, his heart jumping at her use of that term of endearment
again, and waited while she straightened his tunic.

"Come now, Fox Cub," she said, striding purposefully toward the door.
"Our guests will be arriving at any moment."

Fox allowed his eyes to drop to the jewelry chest once again, and he
gently closed the lid, giving a small sigh before he turned to follow
her. Steadfastly, he clamped down on the wave of guilt that threatened
to consume him. Perhaps, he thought, if he contrived to sneak into the
village he could visit the jeweler. If the woman was willing, he would
trade his diamond earring for a gold neck band identical to the one Alex
had taken. Of course, he would then have to tell Dana he had lost the
earring, but that was preferable to admitting that he had stood by while
Alex stole it.

Shaking his head quickly as if to banish the unpleasant thoughts, he
descended the stairs behind his wife, determined to at least give the
appearance of enjoying the party.



"We shall be late to the party," Melissa panted, dizzy from the kisses
Jake had bestowed upon her. They had made their way to the secluded
gazebo at the back of the gardens, and had barely entered when he had
pulled her roughly to him in a most welcome, although inappropriately
forward, manner.

"What care we for parties?" he whispered, nibbling at her earlobe, and
Melissa had to agree. He was pressed firmly against her, and she could
feel his manhood straining at his breeches.

"You are most improper, Lord Winters," she gasped as his hands found her
breasts, slipping beneath her military tunic to fondle her bare skin.

"Indeed, I am."

"I should punish you for such impertinent behavior," she warned.

He grinned down at her. "Perhaps you could do that later, my lady. In
the privacy of your chamber."

His wanton behavior was suddenly too much for her, and Melissa grasped
his head firmly, raking her fingers roughly through his hair while her
mouth ravaged his.

"I have no wish to dishonor a gentleman," she murmured, raising her lips
a fraction of an inch, staring into his deep hazel eyes.

"But the gentleman wishes to be dishonored, my lady," he insisted
huskily. He slipped his hands inside her trousers, cupping her bottom
while his mouth found hers again, and Melissa knew there was no turning
back.

Carefully, slowly, not releasing his lips, she lowered him to the floor
of the gazebo. It would be fast, she knew, and rough, and with a little
luck, immensely satisfying for them both. Her fingers found the laces of
his breeches and she unfastened them with trembling fingers, shoving the
offending fabric out of the way and feasting her eyes upon his erect
rod. It was splendid, smooth and hard and ready for her.

Melissa took one more glance into his eyes, seeking his permission to
continue, and saw only welcome desire and raging need there. Hastily she
unfastened her trousers and kicked them aside, and he moaned as she
lowered herself onto his shaft.

"Oh, Goddess!" he groaned when she began to move. Any further
exclamations he might have made were silenced when her lips descended
upon his once again.

He reached for her breasts and she slammed his wrists against the floor,
pinning him there in a practiced army move. Jake grinned against her
mouth--at last, he told himself, a woman who would take charge. Not like
Lady Iris, who had been soft and sweet and gentle at all times. Jake
found his baser nature craved the roughness Melissa was showing him, and
he met her movements with his own enthusiastic thrusts upward. His head
grew quite dizzy from her kisses, and he knew his release was not far off.

"Ready..please..." he moaned into her mouth, "can't...wait..."

Melissa kissed a trail of fire down his cheek and collarbone before
fastening her teeth firmly in his shoulder.

"You will wait until I tell you, boy, or I shall take a strap to you,"
came the gruff reply. Moments later, her body tensed, her grip on his
wrists tightened, and she quivered around his manhood as she found her
own fulfillment.

He gasped in response, reaching his release with a sudden intensity that
shocked him, for he had never felt such pleasure before. She continued
her movements until they were both sated and exhausted, and only then
did she raise her head to look at him.

"I suppose I shall be forced to marry you now," she commented lazily, a
smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"You needn't feel that's necessary," he objected, suddenly concerned as
he saw his freedom slipping away. He had to regain control of the
situation, and commented quickly, "You are not my first lover. Indeed,
it is only because of my wealth that I am still held in regard at all."

She stole another kiss from him. "Hush now. Rest assured, Jake, I hold
you in great regard, and do nothing under compulsion" she informed him.
"I care not about your lovers. They are in the past. You are a
delightful change from the men I have had paraded before me as suitable
husbands. Her Highness seems determined that her Guard be comprised of
family woman."

"You are a rather delightful change yourself," he admitted. "You are the
first woman who has not treated me as if I were a delicate flower."

She grinned, standing and hauling him to his feet. They both dressed
quickly, straightening each others' clothing and hair as best they
could. "I see nothing delicate in a man who insists upon traveling the
countryside with only one guard," she replied, giving his bottom a swat,
but her eyes glowed as she took his chin in her hand and kissed him once
again. "Indeed, I think you quite brave, if reckless."

He stared into her face, stunned and a little frightened at what he saw
there--could this woman truly be considering petitioning the Queen for him?

"Melissa, I--"

"Let us not speak further," she interrupted. "We shall be scandalously
late, and I shall be forced to wed you immediately if we do not make an
appearance very shortly."

She led him away by the hand, and he followed slowly, wondering if
marriage to her would be tolerable. Most certainly she was the most
exciting lover he had known, but ladies, he had found, tended to change
when a man became their husband. Lady Iris had certainly become more
protective of him, almost suffocatingly so, after they were wed. He
didn't think he could bear it if Melissa were to do so.

Sighing to himself, he decided to speak to her quite frankly about it
after the party--she had said she found his candor delightful; he would
put that statement to the test.



It was a small gathering this time, unlike the huge ball they had thrown
to celebrate their marriage, and Dana and Maggie had arranged it for the
dual purpose of announcing Melissa's promotion and Dana's pregnancy.
Melissa had insisted that Jake remain until she could escort him home,
declaring that it was unsafe for any man to travel alone, especially one
as beautiful as he. Fox noted his independent cousin's acquiescence with
some amusement. His eyes sought out the couple, who were already
beginning to dance to the music provided by the quartet Dana had hired.

There was no doubt in his mind that they had strong feelings for one
another, for they were enjoying a spirited argument as they danced. Fox
gnawed his lip as he wondered if they had consummated their passion.
Surely not, he thought. Jake might pretend to be a tart, but he had been
raised a gentleman. He would not compromise his virtue. Would he?

His eyes left Jake and Melissa, then narrowed in disgust when they
rested upon Alex. The former maid had been called upon to serve this
evening, tonight he was dressed like the trollop he was. A thin white
shirt, its short sleeves revealing the maid's strong biceps, and open to
provide a glimpse of his bare chest, disappeared into the almost
indecently tight breeches. The breeches themselves were extremely short,
barely covering his bottom, and showed off his lovely legs to
perfection. A pair of boots with frivolously high heels completed the
ensemble.

Fox, who was fervently thankful that his nausea seemed to have passed at
last, surveyed his own clothing with satisfaction. Dana was much less
inclined to dress him like a man of the evening now that she was
expecting their child. He wondered if she viewed him differently now
that he was to be a father, but at least her appetite for him was still
insatiable.

Lady Fowley was not a guest tonight, as the gathering was intimate and
she certainly did not qualify as a family friend, so Fox felt certain he
would be able to complete this party without disgracing himself. He
still blushed with shame and anger when he remembered the trouble he and
Walter had found at the last Scully ball.

Lady Maggie's attitude toward Walter seemed to have undergone a subtle
change as well, he observed as he watched the two of them stroll across
the dance floor holding hands. Obviously, nearly losing her husband to
another woman had reaffirmed the value of him in her eyes.

They greeted their guests warmly, and once all had arrived, the party
got underway. The quartet provided excellent music, and Dana whirled Fox
onto the dance floor immediately.

"This is the first opportunity we have had to dance since our marriage,"
she smiled up at him, and he gave her an embarrassed grin.

"I did not give you a chance at our last party," he admitted, and she
laughed aloud, resting her head on his chest.

"No trouble tonight, please, Fox. I find myself extremely satisfied with
my life," she told him.

He gazed down at the top of her head, astounded at such a confession
from his proud wife, and pulled her closer while the music continued to
play.

He managed to avoid Alex for most of the evening, although he did
occasionally catch a glimpse of the hapless maid as he made his way
through the crowd with a large tray, serving the guests drink and
refreshments. He knew Alex must be enduring a good deal of groping
tonight, as blatantly sexual as was his appearance, but Fox found he did
not care--it was no more than Alex deserved, and thus far the maid had
not approached Dana at all.

Although his sickness seemed past, his weakness was not completely gone,
and after an hour of dancing Fox begged Dana to allow him to sit and rest.

"I will have someone bring you a cup of punch," she said tenderly,
caressing his face. "I simply must mix with our guests, I'm afraid--I
have been neglecting them in favor of your delightful company. Will you
be quite all right here?"

He nodded, relishing the comfort of the small sofa where she had
deposited him, and worked at catching his breath while he watched her
disappear into the crowd. No sooner was Dana out of sight than he was
greeted with the unwelcome vision of Alex standing before him.

"Enjoying yourself, Lord Scully?" Alex sneered, and Fox simply glared at
him in disgust.

"Go away, Alex," he ordered. "I have no wish to talk to you tonight."

Instead, Alex leaned closer in order to speak without being overheard.

"I am not going to remain here," he countered. "Your lady's assignment
with the livestock has sealed that decision. I am going to the
Colonies--I hear men and women are equally esteemed over there."

Fox gave a snort of amusement. "How are you to reach the Colonies?" he
asked. "Besides, you signed a lifetime contract with my lady--you cannot
dissolve it, only she has that power."

"I know I cannot dissolve my contract, you fool," Alex hissed. "Why do
you think I must leave England? I'm running away. Now. Tonight. And you,
my fine Lord Scully, are going to give me the means."

Fox stared into the cold blue eyes uncertainly. "What nonsense are you
talking?" he asked at last.

Alex took another quick glance around and leaned even closer. "Lady Dana
keeps a purse filled with gold coins in the bottom drawer of her chest,"
he explained quickly. "You will go upstairs and fetch it for me. By the
time she discovers it missing, I shall be on a ship bound for the
Colonies, and she will be none the wiser."

Fox felt the blood drain from his face at the suggestion. "Do you
mean--you wish me to /*steal*/ from my lady?" he demanded in a whisper.

Alex gave a mirthless smile. "Is that any worse than watching me steal
from her, and doing nothing?" he asked carelessly. "I would remind you
of a certainly letter that old biddy over there, or better yet, Lady
Fowley, would be most interested to receive."

Fox glanced over at Lady Sparlane, Chief Judge in the village of Azure,
who was a guest at their party. Alex could present his letter to Dana
before Her Ladyship and Fox would be arrested immediately. Feeling his
heart sink at the words, Fox realized he had no choice. If he did this
ghastly deed, perhaps he would be rid of Alex forever, but if he refused...

"Very well, Alex," he said at length. "But you must realize--I am only
doing this out of the fervent desire to never see you again."

Alex smiled again, leaning back with a satisfied expression, knowing
he'd won. "I care nothing for your motivation, Lord Fox," he answered.
"Only bring me that gold."

Fox glanced around quickly, hoping to find his wife occupied, for if he
was discovered leaving the party for his chamber, she would assume he
was ill again and would not allow him to be alone. Finding her involved
in a quite animated discussion with her mother and Lady Krewes, he
slipped out of the ballroom quietly and raced up the stairs.

Once in his chamber, Fox glanced around again hurriedly before kneeling
in front of Dana's chest. He knew she kept the purse of gold there, for
she had shown it to him before she and Maggie left for London, telling
him he was free to use it should any emergency arise.

Sliding his hand beneath the various garments she kept in the drawer, he
felt around until his fingers met the velvet pouch. The amount of coins
inside had been increased since Dana had told him of it, for it was
fatter than it had been before. Fox knew it would buy a passage to the
Colonies easily, and probably set Alex up as a merchant or businessman
in the new world if he so desired.

Fox withdrew the pouch, hefting its weight, and stared at it for a
moment. His lady trusted him, and he was about to betray her. He had
kept the neck band a secret from her, although it had cost him some of
his self respect and a good deal of sleep, but this--this was a much
greater crime. Suspicion might fall upon Alex once he disappeared, but
until then, Fox knew she would blame Aja. She had been half-suspicious
the boy had taken her neck-band. If she found her purse of gold missing...

With a heavy sigh, Fox returned the pouch to its place and shut the
drawer carefully. He stood, brushing out his breeches and smoothing his
tunic, and then--oddly, he thought later--examined his reflection in the
mirror. He brushed aside a strand of hair that would not remain in place
and twisted his earring so the Scully family symbol was upright.

It would be a difficult thing, he knew, but Fox had at last reached the
end of his endurance. He remembered telling Isaac how he valued the
ability to view himself in a looking glass, but he had never realized
how costly maintaining that ability could be.

With head held high, Fox left the chamber for the last time, shutting
the door firmly behind him, and made his way toward Dana with
single-minded determination.

Alex watched as Fox descended the stairs, observing his firmly clenched
jaw, and knew at once that his plan had failed. He had known Lord Scully
was honest to a fault, but had hoped his threats would be enough to
persuade that man to commit the act. It was apparent now that he had
pushed Fox too hard. Muttering quite un-gentlemanly curses, Alex
disappeared as quickly as he was able.



As Fox approached, the music suddenly went quiet, and he looked around
in confusion. Had they already discovered his crime, he wondered
helplessly? Before he could open his mouth and blurt out his confession
he saw Lady Melissa lead his cousin to the center of the dance floor and
address the assembly.

"As some of you already know, the Queen has bestowed upon me the honor
of making me Commanding General of her Guard," she announced. The hall
immediately broke into cheers and applause. Melissa acknowledged it with
a smile, then raised her hand. "Her Gracious Majesty desires that those
women who serve her at this level also have loving families, to remind
them daily of the importance of a strong and peaceful Queendom." She
then fell gracefully to one knee before a stunned Jake.

"Therefore, Lord Winters," she said clearly, her voice ringing
throughout the hall, "It would give me great honor if you would allow me
to petition Her Highness the Queen for your hand in marriage."

A general gasp of delight went up through the crowd, and Jake beamed
down at Melissa as she slowly kissed his hand, her eyes twinkling. He
seemed overcome with emotion, unable to speak, but his suddenly shy
smile spoke volumes. When he nodded, Melissa rose to her feet and swept
him into a fierce, possessive embrace.

"Fox, I...I am betrothed!" Jake called, a little dazed by the sudden
turn of events, when he caught sight of his cousin standing at the edge
of the crowd.

Fox nodded, trying to smile encouragingly, while Dana held up her own
hand for silence. The crowd quieted again, wondering what further news
the Scully clan had to share.

She smiled warmly at Fox, holding out her hand, and he had no choice but
to go to her. She slipped her arm about his waist before announcing
joyfully to the assembled guests, "Lord Scully and I are to have a
child. She...or /*he*/," she continued with a grin of concession at her
husband, "will be born in early spring."

Another wave of joy ran through the crowd, and Fox turned to Dana, no
longer attempting to mask his misery.

"Fox, whatever is wrong?" she demanded, seeing the agony on his face.
"Are you ill again?"

"No, my lady," he said, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. "You
see, I also have an announcement to make--not a very happy one, I fear."

Dana's eyes narrowed as she waited for him to continue.

He looked around, his eyes falling upon Her Ladyship. "Lady Sparlane, I
regret that I must make a confession of serious wrong-doing to you. When
I am done..." He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to continue
breathing. "When I am done, I fear you will have no choice but to arrest
me."

He ignored Dana's outraged exclamation, focusing on Lady Sparlane as she
approached him slowly.

"Young man, whatever you have to say to me shall be said in private.
Come with me into the library, away from these people," she ordered
firmly. "Everyone else shall remain here."

Fox followed obediently, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor so he did
not have to see the expressions of shock and disappointment on the faces
of his neighbors and family members.

"Now," she suggested once they had seated themselves in front of the
fireplace, "tell me what you have done, Lord Fox." Her voice and face
were gentle, and Fox found himself pouring out the story to her.

"I know what I did was against the law of the land," he said in
conclusion, his head bowed in shame, "but I could not allow the servant
to die. It would have been a great sin against the Goddess, and that, I
would not do."

In the large ballroom, the guests began babbling furiously, while Dana
stared at the closed library door in disbelief. Whatever trouble Fox had
found, she was his wife and it was her right to know about it and try to
protect him from it. Lady Maggie looked on with a stern expression.
Melissa watched sympathetically, her arm safely around Jake's shoulders,
but there was nothing to be done.

"I commend your honesty, Lord Scully," Her Ladyship said formally,
rising when he had finished his tale, "but in light of your confession,
I am afraid I have no choice but to arrest you immediately, pending an
investigation into the matter."

She opened the door to the anxious Scully family, holding up a hand to
ward off any protest they might make. "This is a matter for the Crown.
Lord Scully will be safe in my care while the matter is investigated,"
she assured them. "Since this issue also concerns Lady Diana Fowley, I
will have a message sent to her at once telling her of this development.
We will convene in my courtroom at half-past nine tomorrow morning."

With that, she took Fox by the arm and led him from the room. He walked
beside her without a backward glance, for he knew if he saw his wife's
beautiful face, he would throw himself at her feet and beg her
forgiveness before the entire congregation, and that he simply could not
bear.

When they reached Her Ladyship's carriage, her servants assisting him
inside, Lady Sparlane looked him over carefully. "By rights, I should
have your hands bound, Lord Scully, in order to prevent you attempting
to escape. Will you give me your word that will not be necessary?"

He shook his head, his eyes fixed firmly on the hands clenched tightly
in his lap. "My promise before the Goddess, Your Ladyship," he
whispered. "I shall not run away from you."

"Depart," she instructed her driver, and Fox felt the carriage begin to
move down the drive, taking him away from all he loved.

He buried his face in his hands and fought to hold back the tears.



"Where is Alex?" demanded Walter after a few moments of stunned silence
had filled the room.

"Alex?" asked Maggie furiously. "What has he to do with this?"

"He was serving," Dana replied, still staring at the door through which
her husband had disappeared. "He must be in the kitchen."

"We must find him quickly, my daughter, for he holds the key to this
matter," Walter announced. Quickly he related the barest details of what
Fox had told him of Alex's blackmail.

Maggie glared at him with barely held fury, but immediately commanded
the servants to find the missing maid. A thorough search of the house
soon revealed Alex's absence, and Melissa, in her element, took charge
at once.

"Roberta, summon the most proficient riders among the servants, and
saddle as many horses as possible," she ordered. Then, addressing the
assembled guests, "Ladies, I require your assistance. This treacherous
servant, who has dared to plot against Lord Scully, has obviously fled.
He is probably on foot, and must be found at once. All who would join me
in the search, step forward."

Immediately there was a surge toward Melissa, and she gave their friends
a grateful smile.

"Excellent. We will split into four groups, each taking one of the roads
out of town. Although my guess is that slut has headed back toward London."

Jake stepped close to Melissa as the women quickly made for their horses.

"I would join you, my lady," he told her, his eyes sparkling at the
thrill of the chase. "Indeed, 'tis my cousin Alex has wronged," he
concluded in grim determination.

She shook her head firmly. "No, Jake, it is too dangerous. I will not
hear of it. You will remain safely here with Walter."

"But--"

She held up her hand, silencing his protest. "I said NO. We are
affianced now, and as a ward of the Queen, you are doubly my
responsibility. You will do as I say."

With that, Melissa strode out of the room, followed by Dana and Maggie,
preparing to assemble the Ladies and the servants to begin the search
for Alex. She did not see the angry glare he fixed on her back as she
departed.

"Come, Jake," Walter suggested. "Let us go into the salon, and Sarah
will serve us some coffee. I shall tell you the entire tale as Fox
related it to me."

"No, Walter," Jake replied with determination. "I shall not be cast
aside while my cousin is in need."

Walter's eyes widened. "You will disobey Lady Melissa?"

Jake smiled grimly. "She is not my wife as yet, Walter, and I have never
had great success with obedience. Fox and Dana can both attest to that."

Jake left Walter, making his way silently toward the courtyard near the
stables, and once all the Ladies had departed he saddled his horse and
rode off--in quite a different direction.



Long before Fox was ready, the carriage drew to a halt in front of the
village jailhouse. Lady Sparlane exited the carriage, holding out her
hand gallantly to assist him, and he alighted beside her, gazing about
the darkened street and shivering. The village was frightening in the
dark, the only light emanating from the tavern down the road, where
cries of laughter, anger and outrage echoed from the open doorway. He
remembered the night he had come here alone as if it had been a dream.
He had been unafraid then, his mind concerned only with Walter's
predicament, but now he realized how foolish he had been.

"Lord Scully?" His reverie was interrupted by Her Ladyship's voice, and
she indicated that he should precede her into the building. Fox waited
while she unlocked the door, shivering again at the creak the hinges
made when it swung open, and allowed her to usher him inside.

Her Ladyship lit a lantern, and the flame illuminated the room eerily,
leaving the corners couched in shadow. Fox wrapped his arms about
himself and watched while Lady Sparlane took a large ring of keys off
the wall and unlocked the small cell nearest them.

"My lord, I apologize for the inadequate accommodations," she said
softly. "However, the law does not allow me--"

He shook his head gently. "It is of no matter, Your Ladyship. I knew the
potential consequences when I released the servant. Please, do what you
must."

She stood back to allow him to enter the cell, which he did after only a
second of hesitation. He had thought he would be terrified in this
situation, but now that it was upon him, Fox felt only numbness. He took
a seat upon the wooden bench that hung from the wall by stout chains and
examined his surroundings. There was a chipped chamber pot, a porcelain
basin meant to hold water, and the bench, which was apparently intended
to serve as a bed, although it held no pillow or blanket.

Lady Sparlane closed the door gently, seeing Lord Scully flinched
slightly at the clank of the bars, and locked it securely. Only then did
he raise his eyes to her.

"Please," he asked hoarsely. "If you would be so kind as to leave me the
lamp..."

Normally, given a common criminal, she would have taken it without
qualm, but Lady Sparlane was a kind woman as well as a wise one. She
knew Lord Scully was a man of some honor, and doubted he would cause her
any trouble as a prisoner. Besides, she told herself firmly, although
there was no doubt that his actions had been against the law, how could
she feel hostility toward a man who had acted in order to save a life?

"I shall leave the lantern burning," she told him gently. "I do not know
how long the oil will hold out."

He nodded absently, his eyes taking in the rough stone walls of the
cell. "Thank you, Your Ladyship."

Lady Sparlane quickly completed the records that were required of her,
and when she left the jailhouse, Lord Scully had curled into a small
ball on the bench, his eyes clenched tightly shut.

She did not believe he was sleeping.



"What shall we do?" Dana asked helplessly as they threw themselves into
various chairs in the larger downstairs salon. Sarah was serving strong
coffee and Natalie's tasty fruitcakes, and the women had returned from a
long night of luckless searching. "That trollop cannot have simply
vanished!"

"We will find him, Sister," Melissa comforted as she bit into a slice of
cake. "We will take a bit to refresh ourselves, then those of us who are
able will begin the search anew. You and Mother must ready yourselves to
appear before Her Ladyship this morning."

Dana nodded, still in a bit of shock at the recent turn of events.

Maggie sighed. "Take heart, dear friends. We are not yet defeated." She
examined her husband closely, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes
and the lines of weariness around his mouth. "You will eat, Walter, and
then you will go to bed. It is obvious you have not slept."

"Nor has my lady," he pointed out shyly, accepting the plate with
several slices of fruitcake she handed him.

"True, but I do not have as delicate a constitution as a man. Do not
disobey me, Walter. We have yet to discuss the matter of you keeping
this information from me, and I find I have little patience remaining."

"Yes, Maggie," he said meekly, quickly beginning to eat.

"Where is Jake?" Melissa asked curiously, looking around. She patted
Walter on the back when he began to choke on his scone. "Why, whatever
is the matter?" she asked him. "Are you quite well, Walter?"

He put down the plate he held in trembling fingers and turned to
Melissa, afraid to meet her eyes.

"I thought you knew, my lady," he said faintly. "Lord Winters went out."

Melissa smiled fondly. "A sunrise ride alone, no doubt? He will be the
death of me, with his lack of propriety."

"N-no, my lady, he...left last night," Walter corrected.

Melissa rose to her full height, staring at Walter in a most
intimidating manner. "Where did he go?" she asked carefully.

"He--ah--I believe he went to hunt for Alex."

All conversation in the room ceased when Melissa began to swear angrily,
in language learned from years in the army barracks. The ladies watched
for a moment, gathered from her furious expletives what had occurred,
and turned back to their breakfast. Lord Winters was a wild, foolish
boy, they told one another knowingly, but Lady Melissa would tame him.
He would soon be chastened, and sporting one very sore backside, that
was clear.

"I will find him," Melissa told her family with a deadly look in her
eye. "And then I will kill him." She left the room purposefully, and
Walter turned back to Maggie in fear.

"I--did not know how to stop him, my lady," he babbled. "I tried to talk
him out of it, but he would go, and nothing I said--"

"Enough, Walter," Maggie said gently, holding up a hand. "Melissa will
see to Jake. She is quite capable of handling a headstrong boy. You, my
Bear, are exhausted. Go upstairs to our chamber. I will come up shortly
to bathe and dress for the Court."

"Yes, Maggie."

With a small sigh, Walter did as he was told, climbing gratefully
between the sheets. His head was pounding with worry for both Fox and
Jake, and now he wondered if he was about to be punished for allowing
Jake to slip away, as well as keeping Fox's dreadful secret. Covering
his eyes against the morning sunlight that crept in through the windows,
he began to pray to the Goddess for their safety.



Lady Diana Fowley swept regally into the courtroom, followed by two of
her most loyal servants. She had been notified late the night before of
the unusual developments that had occurred, and her smile had grown wide
and calculating as she read the communication. Now, as she took her
place before the bench, she flashed a smile of pure malicious evil at Dana.

Dana, who had not slept, or indeed even gone to bed the night before,
glowered at her from across the room, barely feeling the restraining
hand Lady Maggie lay upon her arm.

"I swear to you, Mother, one day I will kill that woman," she growled
under her breath.

"Perhaps, but I don't believe a courtroom is the place to make such
threats," Maggie reminded her quietly. "Maintain your temper, Dana. If
you do not, I fear Fox will suffer for it."

At the mention of her poor husband's name, Dana closed her eyes and
swallowed hard. He had been so desolate when Her Ladyship had led him
away last night, and she had fought valiantly to hold back her tears
when she thought of him sitting in a cold, barren jail cell. She hoped
he had at least been made comfortable.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lady Sparlane entered the room, and
after taking her place behind her desk, Her Ladyship addressed them all.

"We are gathered here to examine the allegation that Lord Fox William
Scully, who at the time of the deed was known as Lord Fox William
Mulder, did release Isaac Tremont, a servant contracted to Lady Diana
Fowley for the space of five years, from a legally administered
punishment. Lord Mulder did assist him in escaping from his contract,
the result of which was to steal from Lady Fowley her servant's services
for the space of four years and six months. All evidence will be
examined and all available parties questioned before a decision as to
his guilt or innocence is made. Do any present have any objection to
these proceedings?"

She looked around the room, her gaze resting on Dana for a split second
longer than the others, before she continued, "Very well. I will begin
with Lady Diana Fowley. Lady Fowley, will you step forward and address
the Court."

Diana moved to the front of the room immediately, standing before Her
Ladyship and waiting for the questioning to begin. She felt no fear,
indeed she did not even feel apprehension. She had been within her legal
rights; she need only tell the truth of the matter. She knew she had
already won. While she answered Her Ladyship's questions, Diana was
already planning what she would do with Fox.

"Did you have a servant contracted to you by the name of Isaac Tremont,
Lady Fowley?"

"Yes, Your Ladyship."

"And what happened to him?"

"He disappeared from my employ two years ago. I have not seen or heard
from him since."

"Where was Mr. Tremont when he disappeared?"

"He was chained to a stake in the ground on my property," Diana answered
clearly. "He had behaved quite badly, and I was administering
discipline, as is my right."

"Quite so. Have you anything else to add? I must insist that you stick
to the facts."

"No, Your Ladyship."

"Very well. You may resume your seat. Lady Dana Scully, please step
forward and address the Court."

Dana waited until Diana had moved aside, giving her a threatening glare
as they passed one another, and took her place before Lady Sparlane.

"Lady Scully, what do you know about this situation?"

"Nothing, Your Ladyship," Dana answered honestly. "I was unaware that
any situation existed until last night, when Fox made his confession to
you. I know no more about the matter."

"There is nothing you would add that might prove his innocence?"

Dana's jaw tightened, and she steeled herself to give an answer. "No,
Your Ladyship, there is nothing."

"You may resume your seat."

Lady Sparlane turned to her assistant, who stood quietly at her side.
"Bring in the prisoner."

All eyes turned to the doorway behind Her Ladyship's desk when the
assistant returned with Fox. His hands were bound at his waist and his
eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. His appearance was disheveled, and
Dana longed to smooth the rumpled hair and kiss the lines of worry from
his brow.

"Lord Scully, you have been accused of a serious crime," Her Ladyship
began, when Dana rose to her feet.

"Your Ladyship, I beg your forgiveness, but if it please the Court, I
should like a word in private with my husband. I have had no chance to
discuss the situation with him since his arrest."

Lady Sparlane looked from Dana to Fox to Diana, and then nodded toward
the door.

"You may see him in my office, for the length of ten minutes only," she
replied, and Dana wasted no time in grabbing Fox by the arm and hauling
him through the door.

"Fox, what have you done?" she demanded in a fierce tone once they were
safely alone.

He hung his head, his eyes studying the chains that bound his wrists,
and waited for her wrath to fall upon him, but after her initial
question she was silent, awaiting his answer. At last he raised his
head, his expression unyielding.

"I did as I am accused, my lady, and I would do it again," he replied
softly. "Lady Diana had chained the servant outside, naked in the rain,
and left him to die for the heinous crime of spilling her supper tray. I
came upon him by accident, and although I knew the law of the land was
against me, the law of human decency dictated that I help him."

She blinked, taken somewhat aback at his words. "So you knew the
potential consequences of your actions when you freed the man," she
clarified, and he nodded. "And you never chose to share this important
fact with me?"

Her tone was dangerous, and he drew in his breath quickly. "It--it was
well before we were married, Dana, and in truth, I had all but forgotten
the incident until Alex began blackmailing me. I saw no reason to speak
of it."

She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorway, her face deeply
thoughtful, and Fox began to feel the familiar desperation return. When
she had brought him back here, he had hoped she could somehow save him,
but now he was afraid there was to be no escape. She remained silent,
and finally he could stand the suspense no longer.

"My lady, can you help me?" he asked hoarsely, almost afraid to face
her. "I know this is a situation of my own making, but I beg of you, if
you can, keep me out of Lady Fowley's hands. I will do anything you
require, I will act as your loyal servant for the rest of my days if you
can save me from her. I have no expectation of remaining as Lord Scully."

His words faded out at the end, and the last sentence was almost too
soft to be heard, but she did hear, and raised his face to look into hers.

"Fox, you are Lord Scully," she said firmly, "and Lord Scully you shall
remain. However," she added with a sigh, "I do not see any way to save
you from this unless..."

"Yes?" he prompted eagerly. "I shall do whatever you require, I give you
my word."

"It isn't what I require, Fox. It is a matter of what the law requires,"
she told him soberly. "If you tell the judge what you just told me, your
fate is sealed. Diana has every right to claim you as her servant for
the duration of Isaac's contract, and I have no doubt she will do so.
The only hope you have, I'm afraid, is to lie."

His eyes widened, but he said nothing.

"If you maintain your innocence to Her Ladyship, Diana has no proof of
your guilt. I might be able to obtain your freedom based solely upon my
reputation in the village as an honest woman."

"But if Alex turns up--"

"I will deal with that bastard, do not worry yourself about him," she
said firmly. "He will never trifle with you again, I assure you."

"So my only chance for freedom is to lie?"

"Yes."

"I understand," he said softly, his eyes fixed once again on his bonds.

"Shall we return to them?"

He nodded, and followed as she led the way back to the courtroom.

"Are you prepared to be questioned in this matter, Lord Scully?" asked
Lady Sparlane.

"I am."

"Then step forward and address the Court."

Fox took two steps forward, standing directly before Her Ladyship.

"Did you assist Isaac Tremont in escaping from Lady Fowley's contract?"

Fox held his breath for a moment, wondering if he could bring himself to
lie in court, and then sighed lightly. It was no use. He may be a magnet
for trouble, and he may not be the perfect husband, but Fox knew that
one thing he was simply unable to do was lie. He could not live with
himself if he did so.

"I did, Your Ladyship," he replied, raising his head to stare proudly
straight ahead. He could feel the anger and shock coming off Dana in
waves, and could feel Lady Fowley's triumph as well, but this had
nothing to do with either of them. It was between himself and his Goddess.

Her Ladyship was quiet for several moments, and at last he met her eyes.
They were sad, and sympathetic, and it struck Fox all at once that Lady
Sparlane did not want to give him over to Diana.

"I am afraid that, in light of your confession, I have no choice but to
award you to Lady Fowley, to serve out the remainder of the contract you
stole from her. Unless..."

He looked up eagerly at her words--could it be there was a way out for
him after all?

"If you know the location of the servant in question, and will reveal
his whereabouts, I will release you from jail back into the custody of
Lady Scully as soon as he is returned to Lady Fowley."

Betray Isaac and save himself. Fox moistened his lips with his tongue,
tempted for a moment, but only for a moment. Diana would torture him,
and rape him, to be sure, but he felt certain she would allow him to
live. There was no doubt that returning Isaac to her would be to condemn
the man to death. Surely he could endure a few years of Lady Fowley's
unwelcome attentions in order to save the life of an innocent man.

He squared his shoulders. "I understand, Your Ladyship," he said
proudly. "Unfortunately, I--cannot."

Lady Sparlane was silent for a long moment before standing solemnly
before them all.

"Then I fear I have no choice but to sentence you, Fox Mulder Scully, to
serve Lady Diana Fowley in any capacity she chooses, for the length of
four years and six months. Let the law be done."

End chapter 11



As the verdict was read, Lady Sparlane looked toward Dana, admiring the
stoic expression on the younger woman's face. Even now, when her world
was crumbling, Dana Scully was a true warrior with no mannish, she
reflected. "You may have a few moments with him, if you wish," she said,
and Dana nodded.

Fox followed his lady as she led him toward a private corner of the
courtroom, and when she turned to face him at last, he thought his heart
would break into pieces. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself
unable to form words.

"Fox," Dana said, her eyes shimmering with the barest hint of moisture,
"you knew the whereabouts of the servant, didn't you?" He said nothing,
but his face told the truth. "You knew the risk when you released him,
and you could have revealed his whereabouts and saved yourself, but you
did not. You have shown yourself to possess an honor I did not believe a
man could hold. I am very proud of you. You deserve to hear this from me
before you are taken away." She took a deep breath. "I had believed to
love a man made a woman weak. I now find I was quite wrong."

He stared, as if unable to believe he was hearing her words, but she
continued. "You have proven yourself worthy of my love in every way, and
I do not find that my feelings for you have weakened me one iota."

Tenderly she placed a hand on his cheek, caressing him lightly. "We
shall endure this, my darling, and when your time with Diana is over, I
will welcome you back with open arms. Do not ever doubt it. May you find
strength in that assurance, and in the knowledge that I shall do my
utmost to be worthy of your love."

"My lady, it is I--" his gasping reply was stopped by the sad shaking of
her head.

Trembling, Fox took her hands in his and raised them to his lips,
kissing them fervently, and then his eyes fell upon his marriage ring.
Surely it would not survive the years with Lady Fowley. She would
destroy it out of spite, if nothing else. Slowly, reluctantly, he
slipped it from his finger and placed it in the palm of his wife's hand,
closing her fist over it protectively.

"My lady...will you keep this safe for me?" he asked, fighting to keep
the tremor from his voice.

"I will indeed," she replied after a moment. "And I shall take great
pleasure in returning it to its proper place one day, sweeting."

The familiar endearment was nearly his undoing, and he felt a crushing
ache in his heart, curiously coupled with relief, when Diana's hand
closed around his arm.

"It is time to go, Fox," she said firmly. "You belong to me now."

Taking one last look into Dana's deep blue eyes, Fox turned away. Lady
Fowley had her servants place chains about his wrists, and Fox followed
her as she led him from the courtroom, his head held proudly high in the
manner befitting a true Scully.

He did not look back.



When Dana strode into the main hall of Scully Manor, most of the
servants were assembled, waiting to hear the news. They saw her
glowering face, the absence of Lord Fox, and even the dullest among them
was able to grasp the dire circumstance.

"Roberta! I wish you here this instant!" she yelled, and the butler
stepped forward at once.

"Yes, my lady?" she asked, her tone filled with more respect than was
her usual wont. Roberta had no desire the feel the lash upon her own
back, and with the mood her mistress was in, it was better to grovel now
than suffer later.

"I want that bastard Alex Krycek found," Dana stated calmly, the fury in
her eyes frightening. "I want him found and returned to me. The man
signed a lifetime contract, and by the Goddess, he shall feel every
moment of it until Fox is once again free."



Maggie entered her chamber, closing the door behind her softly. Walter,
who stood staring out the window, did not turn around. He knew what was
about to happen, had prayed Maggie would relent even while knowing she
would not, and had finally accepted his fate.

"If you are considering flinging yourself out that window, I would that
you discard the notion at once."

He turned to her, a half smile on his whitened face. "I fear even by
doing so I would not escape your wrath, my lady."

Maggie crossed to him slowly, her eyes locking with his. "What ever
possessed you to keep such a secret from me, Bear?"

Walter shook his head, as if in disbelief of his own actions. "I am not
certain, my lady," he told her truthfully. "I gave Fox my pledge that I
would not reveal his secret. In truth, I do not see what either you or
Dana could have done to protect him, especially so long after the deed
was done."

"I would have done all in my power to see that this servant was found. I
would have returned him to Lady Fowley."

Walter gazed at her, open-mouthed. "You would have condemned the man to
death, Maggie?" he asked in disbelief. "Is the life of a man of so
little worth to you?"

Her face darkened, and he took one tentative step back.

"The life of one man in particular is of great worth to my daughter,"
she said emphatically. "That life is in danger now, due to the reckless
behavior of both you and Fox. You, as the elder, should have known to
come straight to me, Walter."

As she spoke, she continued approaching him, and Walter continued
backward until he was pressed firmly against the heavy mahogany
wardrobe. His face was completely without color and his hands trembled a
bit, but his voice did not falter as he informed her, "You disappoint
me, my lady. I gave Fox my word. Would you have me violate his trust?
Perhaps I should have tried to persuade him to tell Dana, but I had not
thought you so heartless. Fox sacrificed his life for this man, and you
would have made all the torment he has suffered for naught."

"Let me be perfectly clear, Walter Scully," she replied, leaning so
close that he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. "I will do
anything that is required to protect my family. Had I been forced to
choose between Isaac and Fox, I should have chosen Fox without
hesitation. He is the father of my granddaughter. He will be responsible
for carrying on my family name, and his firstborn daughter will inherit
Scully Manor."

"Is Fox nothing more to you than breeding stock?" he inquired
sarcastically. "If that be the case, what good am I, as I am apparently
unable to father children? Why, pray tell, have you not replaced me with
a younger model, one who could impregnate you with more of the glorious
Scully daughters?"

Almost before he had finished speaking, Maggie's slapped him forcefully,
leaving a red mark across his face. He put his hand to the injury, but
did not flinch.

"Walter, I am not your equal. I am your wife, and you will afford me the
respect and obedience a husband is supposed to show his Lady and
Mistress. Before we proceed, I want to make certain you understand that
clearly. Must I explain the situation further?"

"No, my lady."

"Excellent. You will remove your clothing and bend over the chair. I
shall deliver your punishment to your bare bottom, and I shall not be
lenient with you this time, Walter. Your words have far overstepped the
mark of good taste."

"Maggie, I--"

"Afterwards, we shall further discuss the issue of Fox and his
foolishness."

She released him, and Walter got shakily to his feet. She pointed to the
hated chair, and with a small sigh of resignation, he went and stood
before it, disrobing slowly. Maggie watched, a glitter in her eye, as
her beautiful husband removed every stitch of his clothing before
lowering himself reluctantly over the back of the chair.

Maggie considered the tools of punishment she kept in their
chamber--there was the feather, which Walter detested, but that seemed
too light a punishment for the ill-advised words he had spoken. The cane
was tempting, but she was far too angry to use it wisely. The paddle
seemed too tame, and after a few seconds' consideration, she picked up
the stout leather strap. Walter bit his lip firmly when he saw what she
held in her hand; she had used the strap on him rarely, and it was
extremely painful. He clenched his fists against the fabric of the chair
and waited for the agony to begin.

"We shall address the issues singly," she announced before bringing the
strap down with a sharp /*crack*/ on his smooth, white flesh.

"Goddess!" he gasped, trying very hard to keep his legs still. Maggie
didn't like it when he wriggled too much during punishment, and it would
likely lead to very sore thighs as well as bottom. That was a situation
to be avoided if at all possible.

"Firstly, Walter, you are never, /*never*/ to keep secrets from me
again." Another slap of the belt emphasized her words, and he strangled
a groan. "Is that quite plain?"

"But I promised! My honor was at stake!"

"Had you not made such a foolish promise, there would have been no
threat to your honor."

"Yes, my lady!"

"Secondly, you will never address me in that tone again. You will speak
to me with respect at all times."

"Always, I swear it!" He flinched again when the third smack
criss-crossed the previous two. "Maggie, please!"

"Thirdly, you will never again make such foolish accusations against me.
Think you truly that I would merely allow a man to die without
intervening? I would have filed a petition with the court, claiming
Isaac's life was in danger under Lady Fowley's care, if necessary. Her
Ladyship would probably have allowed Isaac to break his contract in that
case. I would not merely have turned him over to Diana to torture and
kill."

As she lectured her husband, Maggie kept a steady rhythm with the strap,
and noted with satisfaction that his bottom was now a bright shade of
red. She tightened her grip on the strap. It would be much redder in hue
before she was finished teaching him this lesson.

"Those things understood, you must realize that nothing is of more
importance to me than this family. Had Dana and I been warned in advance
of the danger to Fox, perhaps we could have devised a plan to save him.
Instead, he is now in the hands of that foul woman, and will remain
there until we are able to free him in some way."

Walter was beginning to sob now. The sting of the strap was vicious and
his legs sagged a bit as he fought to endure the remainder of his
punishment.

"I do not think of Fox as mere 'breeding stock' at all. Indeed, I am
quite fond of the boy. As is my daughter. Do you not see that?"

"Yes! Yes, I do, my lady! Please, no more..."

She stopped for a moment, rubbing his sweaty back and giving him time to
catch his breath before continuing.

"We are almost finished, but there is one very important issue I have
yet to address. Can you guess what it is?"

Sobbing into the chair, he shook his head from side to side. Maggie
smiled fondly; doubtless all he could think of right now was the pain in
his bottom.

Punctuating her words with strokes of the strap, she continued,
"/*You*/, Walter, are a man, my husband, and your life is of the utmost
importance to me. Indeed, you are the most precious person of all to me.
Do you not know that?"

"I--I know--" he gasped through his tears.

Maggie pulled him slowly to his feet and embraced him warmly. "Then also
know that I love you more than my life, and let us have no more of this
foolishness. Now, you are quite exhausted, Bear. You will climb into our
bed and sleep. Do not argue with me."

Careful to keep the coverlet away from his sore bottom, Walter did as he
was told.



Earlier that morning, after leaving Scully Manor, Melissa sat astride
her horse in the middle of the road for several minutes, her eyes
narrowed in deep thought. Jake had been gone for hours already, and none
of the women who had joined in the search had seen him. They were all to
be trusted, but there were others in the village who were less noble,
who would not hesitate to take advantage of a man like Jake should he
fall into their hands. She knew that, although Jake pretended to be
carefree and disregarding of his own safety and modesty, in truth he was
as much in need of protection as any man--perhaps more so because of his
extreme beauty.

They had searched every road out of town for Alex and had found no
success. Melissa had been certain Alex would head for London, intending
to disappear into the throngs who crowded the gutters there, but had
finally been forced to admit her error. Had Alex made for London, they
would surely have found him, and had Jake followed their search parties,
one of them would surely have come across him on the return journey.

Now, she stared off to the northeast as a horrifying thought struck her.
Cursing her own stupidity, she urged her horse onward through the trees,
ignoring the trails and searching for any sign that a man had passed by
recently, either on horseback or on foot. Soon, she was rewarded when
she spotted a certain pattern of broken twigs, and when the trees gave
way to open fields, a clear evidence that someone had recently trampled
the tall grass. Jake had gone this way, damn his hide, and perhaps Alex
as well.

Melissa dug her heels into her horse's side, spurring him on to a
gallop, and made for the docks, fifteen miles from Azure. If Alex had
gone there, he would almost certainly be captured and raped, possibly
taken as a sea captain's personal maid and bed warmer. While it was no
more than the slut deserved, right now the Scullys needed him whole. If
Jake had gone there--Melissa shuddered at the possibilities, praying she
would find him alive. Traveling as quickly as she was able, she amused
herself with thoughts of how, once she found him, she would then proceed
to kill him.



The ride to Lady Fowley's estate was accomplished in near silence. Fox
sat staring stonily out the carriage window, ignoring the smirk of
satisfaction on the noblewoman's lips. She rested her hand gently on his
knee, giving a threatening squeeze when he attempted to draw away, but
other than that one familiarity made no move to molest him. Fox supposed
he should be grateful she did not intend to take him right here in the
carriage in broad daylight. According to the many stories he had heard,
coupled with what he had seen for himself, he knew there were not many
boundaries Lady Diana would not cross.

When they reached the Fowley carriage-drive at last, Fox breathed a
prayer of thanks to the Goddess that he seemed to be, in fact, quite
numb; it would have simply been too mortifying if his knees had shaken
as she assisted him from the carriage.

Diana kept her hand firmly on his left arm, while one of her servants
grasped his right, and he was led into the large house immediately. Fox
wanted to turn around and take one look back, to see if he could spot
the rooftop of Scully Manor through the trees, but he did not trust
himself to be able to endure such a sight. Instead, he allowed himself
to be drawn into the dark, cool receiving chamber without protest.

The Fowley servants crowded around in order to better view their
Mistress' new prize, and Fox kept his gaze fixed firmly on the stone
wall ahead of him. The servants' babbling was nothing more than
unintelligible noise to him until Lady Fowley's voice rang out above the
others.

"Take him to my chamber."

At Lady Diana's words, Fox felt a wave of despair wash over him. He had
not realized until just this moment how much at her mercy he truly was.
Praying that somewhere in her heart she had a shred of compassion, Fox
slowly lowered himself to his knees in an attitude of supplication.

"My lady, I will be your servant, I give you my word, happy to perform
the most menial of tasks, but please, I--," he stopped just before his
voice broke. Diana regarded him, amusement in her eyes, waiting for him
to finish.

"I have known no woman except my lady wife. Please, I beg your mercy. Do
not take me to your bed. Do not shame me in this manner."

"Dana has been far too soft on you," Diana replied, twining her fingers
in his hair and giving a tug so he was forced to look up at her. "I
should have you whipped for your insolence. You are not my servant, Fox,
you are my slave. How dare you even suggest that you could command me?"

He shook his head frantically, as if to deny her words, but she went on
before he could speak.

"You are, as you say, my servant for the next four and one half years.
During that time, your /*only*/ task will be to please me in my bed. I
require nothing else of you. I have plenty of servants to see to my
other needs. You, my beautiful wild Fox, will make your luscious body
available to me as often as I wish to make use of it."

His face blanched at her words, but he held her gaze proudly in spite of
the tears that wanted to surface. He was a Scully, he reminded himself
fiercely, and a Scully was never a coward.

Diana stared into the pooling hazel eyes for a few moments, lost in
their beauty, unable to believe that such a specimen was truly hers. She
would not keep him for long, she knew. Diana had no illusions that Lady
Scully would allow her to retain ownership of Lord Scully for the entire
four and one-half years. Dana would either find a pretext to kill her,
thus regaining Fox, or she would simply steal him and spirit him away
from the village. At any rate, Diana intended to gain as much enjoyment
from her new pet as possible before she lost him.

"Take him to my chamber at once," Diana ordered again, releasing her
grip on his hair. "Prepare him for me. I shall be upstairs when I am
ready."

There was nothing more Fox could say. It was obvious now that Diana did
/*not*/ possess a shred of compassion, but he should have known that, he
reminded himself as he meekly allowed the servants to lead him upstairs.
He was in this predicament because she possessed no compassion, and
because he had an abundance of it, perhaps more than he had of good sense.

He stifled a sudden urge to swing out at the servants guarding him and
run for his life. It was useless, that much was certain; his wrists were
still chained, and he would not get as far as the front door before
being set upon and dragged back. Fox had no doubt that punishment at
Lady Fowley's hands would be swift and severe. Instead of running, he
took care to observe his surroundings carefully as he ascended the
staircase, in order to better make use of any escape opportunity which
might present itself in the future.

The Fowley estate was built almost entirely of stone, and Fox shivered
in the dampness that seemed to permeate his garments. Unlike his
home--Scully Manor, he corrected himself, for it was no longer his
home--this place held no warm fires or inviting salons. The downstairs
was almost entirely made up of one large room, and the steps leading up
to the sleeping chambers were of old and chipped stone. Fox followed
carefully, attempting to avoid slipping on them, trying desperately not
to think about what was about to happen to him. When at last they
reached the top of the stairs, the servants led him to a room directly
opposite. When the door was swung open, he stopped in horror, stifling
his gasp at the sight.

The room was enormous, and appeared not so much a bedroom as a torture
chamber. One entire wall was hung with implements of discipline, hung on
hooks and stacked on shelves. There were whips and straps and canes of
every size, and those were the most innocuous of the items he saw. A set
of thumbscrews, a collar with spikes pointing inward, and a large
whipping bench caught his attention first, then his eyes wandered over
the various tools. Fox wondered why one woman had need of so many items
used for punishment. Being a servant on this estate must truly be the
depths of despair.

With a barely concealed shudder, Fox turned away from the wall of horror
only to find his eyes focused on the massive bed. Posts rose from each
corner all the way to the ceiling where they were securely fastened with
iron bolts. Strong manacles hung from each post, and Fox shivered again.

He started when the chamber door opened, and several more servants
entered the room bearing hot water. The tub was filled, and Fox sighed,
resigned to his fate. He only hoped they would leave him alone while he
bathed. His hopes were for nothing, for no sooner had they emptied the
last of the buckets of water into the tub and unfastened his chains than
they all reached for him at once, stripping his clothing from him
quickly and efficiently.

"No!" he cried out as he heard his shirt rip, and bit his lip at the
giggles that ensued.

"Not to worry, Fox," one of them smirked. "Lady Fowley isn't likely to
allow you clothing anyway."

He stared at her, shocked at the implication, and barely noticed when
they began pulling him toward the tub. Soon he was immersed in the
water, feeling several of the servants scrubbing at him all at the same
time. He yelped when one of them reached for his manhood, but the women
merely cleaned him methodically, then tugged him to his feet once more.
He was dried off with a large drying cloth, then led toward the bed.

At that point, Fox began to panic, but before he could formulate a plan
of escape, he was lying flat on his back on the bed, completely naked.
He heard the clank of metal, and moments later tugged at the collar that
had been locked around his neck.

He closed his eyes, seeing himself in Isaac's position again, and turned
on his side, pulled his knees protectively against his chest and buried
his head in his arms. Suddenly comprehending his nakedness, he grasped
at the coverlet and tugged it quickly over his trembling body.

As the servants exited the room, throwing jeers and crude innuendo his
way, he remembered Dana's face as he had been led away from her. With
rapidly increasing desperation, Fox begged the Goddess for Her
assistance as he fought valiantly to hold back his tears.

How cruel a joke She had played, giving him the love he craved just as
he was to be denied it.



Melissa shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun shimmering on the
ocean, focusing on the sight approaching--a man on horseback was leading
another man by a rope. Since they did not turn tail and run at the sight
of her, she could only presume the correct man had the correct man on
the end of the rope.

As they approached, she was able to see very clearly that Jake had tied
the rope securely around Alex's waist, trapping his arms at his sides,
then fastened it to his saddle. He trotted along at a pace that forced
Alex to jog, and the hapless prisoner appeared exhausted.

"Before I whip you within an inch of your life, tell me where you found
him," she commanded, her eyes roving up and down Jake, noting with
relief that he appeared unharmed. "Tell me you were not so foolish as to
approach the docks alone. Tell me you found him lying in a convenient
ditch, far from the waterfront."

"Actually, my lady, I discovered him slinking about the waterfront like
the sewer rat he is," he told her grimly. "I am afraid I was forced to
be quite rough with him in order to persuade him to return with me. He
apparently had plans to board a ship for the colonies, intending to pay
his way with this." Jake held up a gold neck band which Melissa
recognized immediately, for it was identical to the one her mother had
given her for her previous Name Day. Melissa nodded with sudden
understanding, then turned her attention back to Jake.

"You went to the docks," she clarified.

He nodded, still glaring at Alex with disgust.

"You went to the docks, where hard and ruthless women gather, with no
protection whatsoever, and attempted to apprehend a dangerous criminal."

"I /*did*/ apprehend him, Melissa," Jake pointed out.

"Alone and unescorted, without even your "Brunhilda" to watch over you.
Nobody to protect you should a bevy of seawomen spot you and decide you
would make an excellent plaything for their shore leave." As she spoke,
her face grew redder and redder and her voice deceptively calm.

"I wasn't without protection," he contradicted, withdrawing one of
Dana's pistols from his saddlebag. "I had this."

"I shall surely whip you until you are not able to sit for at least a
fortnight," she said mildly, but her eyes glinted in a way that made
Jake shiver inwardly.

He swallowed hard, but replied with a wicked grin, "I shall look forward
to it."

"So. You located this gutter rat after all. He will make an excellent
target." Melissa drew her own pistol and aimed it squarely at Alex's
forehead.

"Wait, Melissa," Jake said hastily. "I would that you did not kill him
just yet. I have an idea in which he may be of some use to us."

Melissa dismounted slowly, walking over to stand before Alex. Her eyes
took in his defiant glare as well as the slight cut on his lower lip.
"Did you do this?" she asked Jake, pointing to the cut, and he nodded.
"Excellent work."

Seconds later, the toe of Melissa's boot connected sharply with Alex's
groin, and he fell to his knees in agony, gasping for breath.

"Observe, Jake, another reason why men are the weaker sex. Your manly
parts are all on the outside, where they are vulnerable."

Ignoring Jake's wince, she helped him down from his horse, her tender
touch belying her angry glare, then tossed Alex across Jake's saddle.
She tied the rope firmly about the saddle so their prisoner did not slip
to the ground, then mounted her own steed and pulled her fiancé astride
in front of her.

"We will take him to Her Ladyship," she said brusquely. "Blackmail,
thievery and illegally defecting from his contract. I believe that
should take care of Alex for quite some time. I'm certain he will prove
very popular in prison. As we ride, you will tell me this idea of yours."

"Yes, my lady."

"You will also tell me what made you think to search the docks when I,
with all my military experience, believed Alex to be heading for London."

"Yes, my lady."

"Afterwards, I shall whip you soundly."

Jake only smiled.



Fox raised his head when the door opened, knowing it would be Diana but
hoping against hope it was not. He saw her sinister smile first, and
suppressed a shiver. Clutching the coverlet close around his neck, Fox
watched as she approached.

"You are lovely," she commented, stopping to look him over. "If only I
could see more than your nose and one eye, and that thatch of dark
hair..." So saying, Diana reached down and whipped away the coverlet
without warning. Fox curled into a ball, trying vainly to protect his
naked body from her eyes.

Once again, he fixed his gaze on a distant point, doing his best to
summon up the tender words Dana had spoken to him just before he was
taken away. If he could concentrate on her, on those sweet phrases,
perhaps he could survive this. After all, he told himself firmly, there
was no shame in what he had done to help Isaac. If Diana took him
against his will, could there possibly be shame in that either? There
was, after all, nothing he could do to prevent the situation from
occurring.

She lay a hand gently on his hip and Fox felt his stomach turn over,
suddenly overcome by the nausea that he had been certain was past.
Breathing evenly in order to control his stomach, Fox tried to make
himself go numb again. He was unsuccessful, and as her hand inched
toward his waist, his feeling of illness increased.

"My lady, please," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his hands
against his stomach.

"Yes, pretty one, you will please me," she purred, sitting beside him on
the bed. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his shoulder, then trailed
them down his arm toward his hands, still clenched over his protesting
stomach.

"I don't--I can't--my lady, I'm afraid I am quite ill!" he gasped.

She ignored him, her fingers sliding between his legs to grasp his limp
manhood, stroking it, attempting to coax a response from him. "You
belong to me now, Fox," she said firmly. "Pretending to be ill will not
save you."

The feel of her hands on his most intimate parts was too much for Fox,
and leaning over suddenly, he vomited noxious bile all over himself, the
bed, and Lady Diana. She screeched and jumped away from him as if she'd
been burned, staring at her ruined gown in fury.

"Blessed hell!" she cursed, ripping at the fabric in an attempt to rid
herself of the foul-smelling garment at once. "You damned useless male!"

Summoned by their lady's scream, the servants burst into the room.

"My lady, is everything all right?" asked one of them as they all
halted, staring in dismay at their soiled mistress and at Fox, who was
still retching, oblivious to his nudity at the moment.

"Take him to the north tower," Diana said coldly, holding out her arms
as her maid quickly removed the soiled gown. "He will be over his
illness soon enough, and then I shall teach him the manners he is so
sorely lacking!"

The servants obeyed immediately, unfastening the chain that held Fox to
the wall and jerking him roughly to his feet. He followed them
reluctantly, still trying to calm his nausea, too intent upon his
sickness to notice that he was being led through the entire house
completely unclothed.



Dana jumped to her feet when Melissa led Alex into the house like a
pony, ignoring when he stumbled tiredly and jerking him back to an
upright position with the rope.

"As you can see, the fugitive has been located," she commented mildly as
the family gathered around. "Dana, hold." She held out a hand to stop
her sister. "You cannot kill him."

"Pray tell me, why not?" Dana demanded, her eyes glittering with hatred
as she regarded her runaway servant, her eyes lovingly fingering the
hilt of the dagger at her waist. "My husband has been given over to that
vile woman because of this worthless guttersnipe."

Melissa nodded. It had been no more than she had expected--the law was
quite explicit on these matters. "Because Jake has come up with a plan,
a most excellent one, a plan devious enough to have been designed by a
woman. I think you will enjoy it. I had intended taking him to Her Honor
Lady Sparlane at once, but I believe Jake has devised a way we may save
Fox."



Fox shivered in the lonely tower room, watching through the single
window as the sun set. It had not been that many hours since he had been
taken from Dana, and yet it seemed forever since he had seen her face.
He shifted position, attempting to find a more comfortable spot to rest
his cramped legs, and wished she was there to wrap her strong arms
around him. His heart ached with the desire to be in his own bed, warm
and safe in the company of his lady, and he swallowed an enormous lump
in his throat as he willed away tears. He was done with crying, he told
himself staunchly. It could do him no good now.

Although, he congratulated himself wryly, vomiting on Lady Fowley had
engendered excellent results. It had not been his intention to avoid
rape by disgusting his would-be attacker, but the coincidence of nausea
and fear had combined admirably. Now, if only he could find a way to
escape before Lady Diana overcame her loathing and again desired to bed
him.

The collar around his neck was quite stout, and while the spikes did not
bite into his flesh, they pressed against it uncomfortably. He was
afraid to rest his head against either the wall or floor for fear of one
of them severing an artery. Instead, he propped his chin on his hands,
resting his arms on his knees, and studied the room. It was quite empty,
save for a few dust balls and the chain which held him captive.

He gave an experimental tug on the chain and for a moment thought he
felt it give. Rising to his feet, Fox examined the rusty iron ring
embedded in the wall. The dampness that enveloped the entire house
appeared to have weakened the bolts that held it, and as he tugged again
on the chain, he rejoiced quietly--there was definite movement, very
slight, but still enough to give him hope. Ignoring the cold and the
feeling of hunger that was beginning to gnaw quite enthusiastically at
his insides, Fox found the loosest of the bolts and began to work it
with his fingers.



Dana handed the hastily scrawled message to Fox's maid, Aja, and bid
him, "Take this to the Lady Fowley at once. Wait for a reply." He
scurried away and she turned to Sarah and Roberta. "Wash Alex
thoroughly. See that he is at his most attractive. Then bring him to me.
And Roberta?" Roberta waited. "Now is not the time to take your pleasure
of him. I want him fresh and rested for tonight."

"Yes, my lady." The two servants disappeared, dragging Alex between
them, and Maggie arched an eyebrow at her daughter.

"Will this plan work, do you think?" she asked.

Dana shook her head slowly. "I do not know, Mother, but I pray it will.
We have few other options, and as often as I have sworn to kill Diana,
it would be best if we can end this situation without bloodshed."

Maggie smiled and gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek. "You grow
wiser every day, my dear," she said approvingly. "And now, I must check
on Walter."

"I take it, from the noises I heard emanating from your chamber earlier
today, that you assisted him in seeing the error of his ways?"

"Oh yes, daughter, I punished him severely. Walter will learn not to
keep secrets from me if he learns nothing else."

"Where is Melissa?"

Maggie's eyes twinkled. "I believe she is in the process of teaching
Jake not to keep secrets from her."



"We will now discuss certain matters regarding your behavior, Jake."

Jake leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs, crossing them
at the ankles. He regarded her lazily from beneath his long lashes,
fully aware of his own beauty and the effect it had on ladies. They were
in the East Wing salon, where they had taken their tea in private, and
the entire upper floor was absent of family and servants at the moment.

"Certainly, Melissa," he acknowledged, feeling his irritation rise at
her autocratic manner. "Perhaps we may begin with why you chose to order
me about like a stable boy."

"I did nothing of the sort. I commanded you to remain here with Walter--"

"Which I told you I did not wish to do!"

"Which order you completely disregarded, with no thought to your own
safety or to my reputation--"

"How did I endanger your reputation? I was merely attempting to
apprehend Alex Krycek. I believe you are jealous because I found him
instead of you. You, the great Commanding General, could not guess that
the man would make immediately for the waterfront. Had the search been
left entirely in your hands, Alex might well be on his way to the
colonies even now!"

His anger had gotten the better of him, and he jumped to his feet,
towering over her as he practically yelled his last words into her face.

Melissa allowed Jake to finish venting his spleen before rising to her
feet, crossing to the door, and locking it securely. He watched her,
confused at her action but still too angry to realize he should be
concerned.

"Oh, now I suppose you shall give me that whipping you keep promising,"
he taunted sarcastically. "You are a woman of many words, Melissa, but I
see little action."

Before he knew what had happened, Jake found himself flat on his back on
the soft carpet, gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him
by Melissa's lightening fast attack. She straddled him carefully, one
knee poised above his manly parts, his wrists pinned firmly across his
chest. He struggled briefly, but she lowered her knee slightly and
finally Jake lay still. It was no use to fight her in this position; she
could cripple him easily if she chose, and while Jake did not think she
would, there was no arguing that for the moment he was helpless.

When he stared up at her, conquered yet not defeated, Melissa leaned
very slowly toward him, her lips approaching until they barely brushed
his. He shivered with a sudden wave of lust.

"I will show you all the action you are able to withstand," she growled
into his mouth before claiming it with an expertise that left him
breathless.

As she kissed him, her leg slowly straightened until she was lying fully
atop him. He could feel himself pressing into her heat and the sensation
only served to increase his torment.

"Melissa--" he gasped, and she raised her head a fraction of an inch.

"You will address me with the proper respect."

"You will never make me submit!" he whispered fiercely.

In response, she began dropping tiny, feather-light kisses all over his
face and neck, allowing her tongue to lap at his sensitive skin on
occasion, nibbling at his earlobes, until at last he was unable to bite
back a small whimper.

"Give up to me, Jake," she insisted softly. "We shall both be the
happier for it."

"Never." His single word was almost a moan, and he felt her satisfied
smile against his mouth with chagrin. He tried to shift his body beneath
her, to remove the enticing, tormenting feel of her against his manhood,
but she would not allow even that tiny victory.

"No," she said flatly, nestling herself more firmly against his
stiffened rod. "You belong to me, Jake, and before we leave this room,
you shall admit that fact."

"My lady..." It was clear he wanted to say more, but his eyes were
beginning to glaze over and his face was flushed.

She smiled. "That is an excellent beginning. Spread your legs a bit, my
dear."

Without thinking, he did as she commanded, and felt her settle more
firmly against him.

"Oh--Goddess!" he gasped, and she grinned wider.

"It is not the Goddess who will please you this day," she told him, her
kisses becoming more passionate as Jake became more acquiescent. "It is
I, your lady and mistress, I who will have every claim on you as soon as
Her Majesty approves the match."

He froze. A sudden, horrible thought struck him, sending a cold shaft of
terror straight to his stomach. "Mel--my lady, what if she does not?"

Melissa grabbed his chin, holding it firmly, and stared down into his
beautiful eyes. They gazed back at her, wide and afraid. "You will trust
me to take care of matters, Jake. Do you understand?"

He nodded slowly.

"Then do not worry about my petition for you. Her Majesty shall grant
it, I assure you."

Any answer he might have made was smothered by her lips, while her hands
went to work quickly stripping the clothing from his body. Soon, he
found he was quite naked beneath her, writhing with need and biting his
lip to keep from begging her to take him immediately. He could tell she
sensed his surrender, could feel her amusement, and it would have
angered him had he been able to summon any sense at all; instead he was
swept away on a cloud of pure desire.

His hands at last released from her grip, he slipped them beneath her
tunic, sliding upwards until he found her full, soft breasts. The feel
of them beneath his fingers only served to increase his frenzy. Melissa
pulled away only long enough to remove her boots and trousers, and
returned to him almost before he was aware she had been gone. Now the
heat of her arousal was pressed squarely against his manhood, and he
felt as if he must surely die in the next second.

"My lady...please..." he groaned against her shoulder, and she raised
herself as if to give him his prize, poised just above his straining
sex. He waited for her to sheath herself on his rod, and when she did
not, opened his eyes to see a slight smile twisting the corners of her
mouth.

"Tell me now that you belong to me," she commanded roughly.

"I--I--"

"Tell me."

"My lady..."

"Tell me you are mine, or I shall leave you in this state. Your need is
much more urgent than mine, I assure you."

His eyes widened, but he saw only deadly certainty on her face.

"You surely did not do this merely to torment me!" he managed.

"Indeed I did not. It is my wish to take you quite thoroughly, but you
are a wild young man, Jake. You must be tamed, and your first lesson is
to admit that I am your mistress, that you belong to me and no other. I
will not have a husband who attempts to rule."

Jake clamped his lips tightly shut, determined not to let the words pass
between them, but the feel of her against him was too much. At last, as
desperately as a drowning man striving for air, he gasped out, "You, my
lady! I belong to you!"

Instantly, she slid herself onto his waiting manhood, enveloping him
with her softness, and he felt raw tears of need and relief sting his
eyelids.

As if sensing that the lesson had been almost too much for him, she
brought them both quickly to their release, biting firmly into his
shoulder, marking him as her property as her muscles clenched around
him, milking the seed from his body. He threw back his head and screamed
in a mixture of pain and pleasure that was surely the most intense
sensation he had ever felt.

When at last she raised her body off his, holding out a hand to help him
to his feet, Jake felt completely drained. They were both covered in
sweat, and his clothing was thrown haphazardly about the room.

Melissa took his face tenderly in her hands and kissed him softly on the
lips. "You are a wonderful student, my little one, and I am proud to be
your teacher."

He smiled at her endearment, silly in a way, as he towered over her, and
yet somehow appropriate. "May I ask a question, teacher?" he queried,
looking at her coyly from beneath his lashes.

She smiled, as if amused by his attempt at coquetry, and nodded.

"When exactly /*are*/ you planning to whip me, my lady?" His impish grin
revealed his lack of belief that she would actually punish him
physically, but he shivered when she stroked a finger down his chest,
gently fondling him until her hand cupped his manly parts.

"Soon," she promised solemnly. "Very soon."



Dana looked Alex over approvingly as the servants brought him before
her. His still-naked body was completely clean, and she could tell from
the look about him that her orders concerning him as plaything had been
obeyed well. He glared at her, but there was no exhaustion or defeat in
his eyes; indeed, the steady challenge she saw there pleased her. If all
went according to plan, Diana would be intrigued by the beautiful young
man, and she would regain possession of her husband.

"Excellent," she said. "I have received word that Lady Fowley has
accepted my request and will meet with me in an hour at the tavern. He
will do quite nicely."

"Should we not clothe him, my lady?" asked Sarah cautiously, but Dana
shook her head.

"No, Sarah. Cover his manly parts only. He does not deserve the kindness
of garments, and my interests will better be served if he is nearly naked."

Alex did not struggle as a soft loincloth, which he filled quite nicely,
was wrapped about him and fastened; it was obvious he saw the addition
as desirable, if not all he could wish for.

"Bring him," Dana said when the task was completed, and she and Maggie
left the room, followed by the servants. They were joined by Melissa in
the hall. "Where is Jake?" Dana asked curiously.

Melissa gave her sister a wicked grin. "He is pacing Mother's chamber at
the moment. He wished to come with us, but was quickly persuaded to see
my way of things. Mother, I do hope you don't mind the addition to your
rooms for the evening. I thought he and Walter could be company for one
another."

Maggie shook her head fondly. "I fear they will not remain there for
long," she commented. "Jake is quite headstrong."

"Oh yes, Mother, they shall both remain there for as long as we wish."

"You locked them in?"

"I did."

Maggie smiled her approval while Dana grinned. "Unless you tied Jake to
the bed, Melissa, I've no doubt you will have a runaway on your hands. A
greater scamp I have not seen."

Melissa tapped her crop against her thigh pointedly. "Perhaps, Sister,
but I am an excellent hunter. No prey can elude me for long. Now, let us
rid ourselves of this swamp rat and bring Fox home." Turning to Alex,
she shook her crop threateningly in his face. "If you cause one speck of
trouble, I shall see to it that your pretty back pays the price for your
foolishness. Am I clear to you?"

He regarded her with insolence for a moment, but when Melissa showed no
sign of weakness or retreat, Alex swallowed hard, dropped his eyes and
nodded his head once.

"Very well. Let us take our leave."



Fox swung around, startled at the sudden sound of a key in the door, and
shoved the bolt guiltily back into the hole he had almost managed to
worked it from. He had spent the last few hours on his task, and now
standing in front of the iron ring, he prayed Diana would not discover
his attempt to escape her clutches.

To his surprise, Lady Fowley was not present--several servants entered
the room, one dragging a large bathing tub and the rest carrying buckets
of water. The last servant to enter the room held a fine suit of clothes.

"You must bathe and dress, Fox," one of the women informed him. "Lady
Fowley wishes it."

Terrified they would discover the loosened bolt, Fox backed up against
the wall. "Please, I am still unwell," he began, but one of them reached
for his collar, releasing it from his neck with a turn of a key.

"That's of no importance," she retorted. "Lady Diana ordered us to bathe
and dress you, and that's what we shall do. It will go easier for you if
you do not resist us."

Fox didn't resist--there was no point. He allowed them to clean the
remnants of his illness from him--which to his gratitude they did as
clinically as they had earlier in the day--and dress him in the fine
suit of clothing. It was similar to the clothes Dana had chosen for him
before she found out they were expecting a child--tight breeches and an
embarrassingly revealing shirt--but Fox was grateful for it.

When he had been clothed and groomed, they formed a tight circle around
him and led him toward the door.

"Where are we going?" he questioned, but his curiosity was ignored.
"Lady Diana really should hire servants with more conversational
skills," he muttered to himself.

One of the women glared at him as if she would like to box his ears but
didn't quite dare. "You'd best keep silent," she told him pointedly.
"You aren't a nobleman here, Fox, you're nothing more than a simple male
servant. If you wish your life to be at all bearable, you will keep your
sassy tongue behind your teeth."

Fox nodded soberly, afraid of the look in her eye, and followed without
comment. He was taken downstairs and was presented to Diana, who looked
him over carefully.

"Beautiful," she said at last, approaching him with still another
collar, a soft leather one this time.

Fox did not flinch as she fastened the collar about his neck and
attached a short lead to it. She ordered her servants to bind his hands
behind his back, which they did quickly. Then Diana turned on her heel
and strode out of the hall, leaving the servants to escort Fox to her
carriage.

"My lady, where are we going?" he asked tentatively when he had settled
himself on the seat beside her.

"I did not give you leave to speak," she chastised sharply.

Fearing punishment, Fox merely nodded and stared again out the carriage
window. Now, when he might have been able to endure the sight of Scully
Manor, it was far too dark to see that distance through the trees.



Jake paced the chamber restlessly, while Walter sat beside the lamp and
attempted to read. At last, unable to concentrate, he put down the book
and spoke to the younger man.

"Jake, do sit down. You shall wear a hole in the carpet."

Jake took a few more angry steps. "I wanted to go with them," he threw
over his shoulder at Walter. He watched from the window as the carriage
departed.

"I know."

"Melissa should have allowed it. Fox is my cousin. I wish to be of
assistance to him."

"Perhaps Lady Melissa felt you could be of the most assistance by
remaining behind and letting the women take care of such matters."
Walter spoke calmly, but his bottom was still quite sore from the
strapping Maggie had given him earlier. At the moment, Walter's only
desire was to avoid further punishment, and he had no intention of
allowing Jake to draw him into trouble. Instead, he tried to divert the
young man's attention. "Come, sit down, Jake. Let us have a game of chess."

Jake ignored him, staring purposefully at the tree growing outside the
window. As Walter watched, he flung open the sash and reached for the
nearest branch. Before Jake could even grasp the tree with one hand,
Walter ran to him and grabbed him around the waist from behind.

"You shall /*not*/," he objected fiercely. "I have already been the
recipient of one punishment due to that infernal tree. I shall ask my
lady to have it cut down!"

"Walter, let me go!" Jake struggled against Walter's restraining arms,
but Lord Scully the Elder was quite strong, and possessed bulk where
Jake was slight. Finally, he relaxed, and felt Walter's arms loosen a
bit from around him. "All right," he agreed testily. "Let me loose. I
shall not attempt to leave."

Walter studied Jake's face, the sincere expression in the hazel eyes
that were so like Fox's. Then he remembered his young son-in-law's
escapades as well as his recent lecture on family responsibility, and
made a quick decision.

"Indeed, you shall not," he announced, dragging Jake toward the large
bed. "I shall make certain of it."

Jake fought like a wildcat, but within a few moments Walter had his
wrists securely fastened to the large bed posts with two of Maggie's
scarves. He stepped back and regarded Jake with amusement as the angry
young man glared at him.

"Untie me at once!" Jake ordered. "If you do not, I shall call for my
servants."

Smoothly, Walter grabbed up yet another scarf and stuffed it into Jake's
mouth, wrapping it around his head and tying it firmly. "You shall do
nothing of the sort," he replied, giving Jake a satisfied grin. "I have
discovered the value of safeguarding the Scully men, as well as our
family name. And if you attempt to cause me any further trouble..." He
let the sentence hang, but he crossed to Maggie's bureau and withdrew
the cane she had used on him on occasion. Jake's eyes grew wide, but he
continued struggling and hissing insults at Walter from behind the gag.
Walter gave him one stroke on the side of his leg with the cane, simply
for emphasis, and Jake--quite shocked at the turn of events--decided
silence was his best choice.

Happy with the job he had done, Walter again settled himself in his
chair, taking up his book, and proceeded to read uninterrupted until his
wife returned.



When the carriage drew to a halt, Diana's servants quickly opened the
door and waited for their lady to exit. Then, reaching inside, two of
them grasped Fox by the arms and pulled him out, steadying him as he
struggled for balance. Diana took hold of his lead and gave a slight
tug, and Fox, being allowed no choice in the matter, followed.

His eyes grew wide as saucers when he realized they were about to enter
the Tavern. From the noises inside, the evening's activities were well
underway. Fox grew suddenly very afraid; he could think of no reason for
Diana to bring him to such a place unless she intended to wager him.

"My lady--" he said, turning imploring eyes to her, but her glare
stopped him.

"You will remain silent," she hissed. "If you speak again without my
permission, I shall gag you. Then I shall allow all my servants to take
a turn at punishing you when we return home. Is that understood?"

Subdued, Fox nodded, lowering his eyes to the ground and following as
she once again made to enter the tavern.

When the two of them stepped into the room, the noise diminished, then
fell off altogether. All eyes in the room were on Lord Scully, for the
news of his fate had spread throughout the village quickly. When Lady
Dana had arrived, with the barely-clad Alex Krycek in tow, gossip had
begun, but now that the two foes were face to face, everyone in the
tavern feared a duel was inevitable. Lady Maggie and Lady Melissa had
accompanied Lady Dana, and the sight of the three noblewomen, Alex
Krycek bound tightly and forced to kneel before them, was an
intimidating vision.

Diana, not at all intimidated, flanked by her faithful servants, merely
led the leashed Fox over to stand before Dana, forcing him to his knees
as well. He did not raise his head to look at his wife, keeping his eyes
fixed firmly on the rough wooden floor.

Diana's eyes went directly to Alex, taking in every inch of the lovely
servant with the utmost appreciation. She licked her lips hungrily when
she observed the bulge of his manhood beneath the loincloth. At last she
dragged her gaze from Alex to confront Dana.

"Well, Lady Scully, you asked for this meeting. I presume, based upon
the unconventional locale, that you wish to conduct a wager, in the
hopes of regaining your husband from me."

"Indeed, I do not."

All parties glanced down at Fox when he gave an involuntary gasp, but he
did not look up.

"Then why, pray tell, have you brought us all here?"

"Because I wish to offer you a trade, Lady Fowley. One which it would
greatly benefit you to accept."

Diana's gaze swept over Alex again. "A trade?"

Dana nodded. "This servant has signed a lifetime contract with me. I
will sign his contract over to you in exchange for my husband's freedom."

A lifetime! A lifetime with the luscious beauty at Dana's feet, or four
years and six months with the one at her own. Diana glanced back and
forth between the men for a few seconds. Fox still stared demurely at
the floor, while Alex kept his glittering eyes straight ahead, an
expression of something very near contempt marring his beautiful
features. How tempting, how exciting it would be to wipe that look from
his face, to bend such a creature to her will. And to have an entire
lifetime to accomplish the task... If she tired of him, she would merely
banish him to the fields. From Diana's perspective, it seemed an
excellent opportunity. However, she disliked allowing Lady Scully to win
so easily.

"You are forgetting, Dana, that the servant in question must agree to
such a transfer of his contract. I doubt your pretty toy would be
anxious to work for me once he understood that his sole duty would be to
warm my bed."

She leaned forward to ask Alex, "What say you to this proposition,
servant?"

"No." The single word was spoken very clearly, and none were surprised.

"Perhaps you will wish to reconsider, Alex, when I describe your future
duties to you," Dana told him in a dangerously silky voice.

He glanced up at her, barely masking the worry on his face, and she
continued.

"I intend that you spend every single night here at the tavern while Fox
is in Lady Fowley's hands. I shall rent you out to the tables and become
quite wealthy, for all the women will wish to have a chance at punishing
your pretty flesh or partaking of your manly charms. You will spend your
nights here, lying flat on your back pleasing the women, or lying on
your stomach while they turn your skin a lovely shade of scarlet with
their riding crops. Then, after you have had a minimal amount of sleep
and food, you will work the afternoon cleaning my barns and pig sties,
returning here to the tavern at night to continue pleasing the women of
the village.

"After Fox has finished his sentence and is returned to my care, I will
then have you arrested for thievery and blackmail. You will be sentenced
to at least twenty years in prison for your crimes, I've no doubt." She
leaned closer and whispered directly into his ear, "A beautiful man such
as yourself should prove quite popular with the lonely /*men*/ in prison."

Alex was unable to suppress his shudder. His eyes had drifted to the
long tables at one end of the tavern while she spoke, and his face had
paled.

Fox, who had never been able to discern the usefulness of the tables on
his own, blanched as well as the unmistakable meaning of his wife's
words sank in.

Alex tried to speak, finding no voice, and swallowed hard. Making
another attempt, he managed to croak out, "I--see the advantage to
agreeing, my lady."

Dana smiled in satisfaction. "I was certain you would." She straightened
up again and looked Diana square in the eye. "Well, Lady Fowley? Do you
agree to the trade?"

Diana appeared to consider, but in truth she was already decided. The
young Alex was lovely, more beautiful even than Fox, and taming him
should prove quite a satisfactory experience. Holding out her hand in a
gesture of agreement, if not goodwill, she replied, "Done."

Melissa immediately produced a parchment and pen, where she scrawled the
terms of the contract clearly. Dana and Diana both added their
signatures, Melissa signed below as witness, and Alex applied his mark
with only a bit of hesitation.

"Release him," Diana said brusquely to her servants, indicating Fox, her
mind already on her new possession. When the servants removed the collar
from Fox, Diana took great delight in attaching it to Alex's neck. She
caressed his cheek softly. "You belong to me now, pretty one," she
informed him. "I shall teach you my rules, and you will obey every one,
or you will become quite acquainted with my methods of discipline. I
assure you, you shall not enjoy them."

Without another word to the assembly, she tugged on the leash and turned
to leave the tavern.

"Fox."

He raised his head slowly, staring up into Dana's beautiful eyes,
scarcely able to believe the transaction which had just taken place.

"My...my lady."

She smiled and held out her hand to him. "My lord. Let us go home."



"My lady, it is quite improper that you be in my bed, as we are not yet
wed," Jake protested, for the sake of propriety's sake only. He had
answered a rap at his chamber door and been delighted to find Melissa
there.

"I am not in your bed, Jake," she corrected, striding confidently into
the room. "And rest assured that when we share a bed, it shall be
/*you*/ in /*my*/ bed, not the converse."

"If you did not come to take advantage of me, pray tell, why are you
here at this hour?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest and
grinning at her. "When you released me from Lady Maggie's chamber, you
spoke not a word. Were you so angry, really? Did you expect any less
from me?" He glanced at the clock, which read half-past ten, and was
certain she was only teasing him before taking him to bed. He felt
himself beginning to harden in anticipation.

"I am here to deliver your much-promised thrashing," she replied,
shutting the door and fastening the lock securely. "The one to which you
have been so looking forward. I have been quite displeased with your
behavior of late, and yes, I was extremely angry that Walter was forced
to restrain you tonight to keep you from disobeying me and endangering
yourself."

Seeing her determined face, Jake's assurance faltered a bit, but the
idea that she would truly punish him was absurd; Lady Iris had never
done so. She had treated him as if he were as delicate as a porcelain
doll. It had gotten quite tiresome after a time.

"I see," he smiled, standing his ground.

"Remove your night clothing."

"Gladly." He stripped himself to his bare skin immediately, knowing her
eyes were drawn to his stiffened manhood, hard and ready for her. He
hoped she would not wait long before finally taking him, but Melissa did
love the thrill of teasing.

"Lean over the end of the bed."

It seemed an odd request, but even though he had known several lovers,
Melissa was much more experienced than he. Jake seated himself on the
foot rail and lay on his back, allowing his legs to dangle over the end
of the bed. Melissa smiled.

"On your stomach, Jake."

"What--?"

"Do as I say. Now."

Seeing the uncompromising expression she wore, he obeyed immediately,
wondering how she intended to make love to him with his manly parts
buried against the coverlet.

Melissa approached his lovely, naked form slowly, savoring the view. She
stroked her hands over the warm flesh of his back and smiled when he
gave a quiver. Then she placed her palm firmly in the middle of his
back, holding him in place.

"Melissa?" he asked uncertainly.

"Address me properly, Jake."

"Surely you do not expect me to call you 'my lady' all the time, as Fox
does with Dana," he protested.

"Indeed I do. It is a term of respect, one which I deserve and which you
shall deliver."

"We shall see." She could not see his face, but she knew his lower lip
was protruding in a delightful pout.

"We certainly shall." Melissa reached under the belt of her trousers and
withdrew a small riding crop. Jake, with his eyes facing the opposite
wall, suspected nothing until the first stripe landed upon his upturned
bottom.

"Hey!" he yelled, squirming vainly beneath her hand. "Stop that!"

"I shall stop when I feel you have learned the first of the many lessons
I must teach you," she said calmly, landing another stroke on his flesh.

"Ouch! Melissa!"

"Address me properly."

It took six hard lashes before Jake gasped out the words she wished to
hear. "My lady!"

"Very well done. Now that you have learned that lesson, let us move on
to the next."

"The next?" he asked fearfully, trying without success to move his
vulnerable bottom out of her reach.

"Obedience, Jake. There are many things you must learn, for you are wild
and undisciplined, but respect and obedience are the primary things I
require of you. Follow those rules and the rest will fall into place
naturally."

"If you expect me to become a pansy like Fox--ouch!"

"I expect you to be yourself, Jake, with the added characteristics of
respect and obedience." She whipped his thighs a few times, ignoring his
protests.

"I am not an obedient man, therefore if you wish me to be
myself--ouch!--you cannot wish me to be obedient!" The last word came
out as a screech.

"Do not try to win an argument with false reasoning, Jake," she told him
as she continued to whip his now quite red behind. "Always remember that
I am the woman, and I am the one wielding the crop. You are in no
position to disagree."

Jake was fighting back tears by now, doing his best to hide them from
her, but Melissa saw and she was pleased. It gave her no pleasure to
hurt him, but it was her duty and her delight to instill the necessary
discipline in his character. The Commanding General of the Queen's Guard
could not have a hellion for a husband.

At last he was unable to stifle the sobs, and Melissa continued
punishing him until he lay limply against the bed and his defiance had
disappeared. Then she slipped the crop back under her belt and drew him
to a standing position.

She wiped the tears from his face and pulled him into an embrace.

"I hate you," he said, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "I shall
ask the Queen not to grant your petition."

"You shall do nothing of the sort, my dear," she replied, tenderly
kissing his still-damp face. "You love me, and I love you. We belong
together. However, I shall not tolerate disobedience or disregard for
your personal safety. Am I quite understood?"

He sniffed.

"Jake?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Now, let us get you into bed. You are tired."

"I'm not tired," he protested, a gleam of wickedness entering his eye as
she covered him. In spite of his raw, sore backside, he felt his desire
beginning to grow once more. "Please, my lady, do me the favor of
remaining until I fall asleep. You could lie here beside me and we could
engage in deep, meaningful conversation. Perhaps we could discuss
Shakespeare."

She saw the gleam and smiled at him with one of her own. "I am quite
fatigued from administering your punishment," she conceded. "Perhaps I
should rest a bit before venturing back to my chamber."

"Indeed, my lady," he answered, drawing her down until her lips met his.



Fox snuggled happily against his wife, hugging her tightly for the
hundredth time, still unable to believe he was safely at home. After a
warm reception from the servants, Walter, and a still angry Jake, she
had hurried him upstairs, where she had proceeded to make love to him
slowly and gently. Fox had felt his eyes nearly cross with pleasure as
he gained his release, and she had cried out her own at exactly the same
moment. Now she lay softly against him, almost asleep.

"Dana?"

"Mmm?" she rumbled drowsily.

"Did you mean what you said this morning?"

Her eyes opened, and she started into his but said nothing. It seemed
weeks ago that she had spoken those words to him, rather than mere hours.

"About...about loving me, I mean..." he finished hesitantly, carefully
studying her shoulder in order not to see the look of amusement that
must surely cross her face at his foolish question.

Instead of laughing, Dana put her fingers beneath his chin and forced
him to look at her squarely once more.

"Is it so important that I love you?" she asked.

He nodded mutely.

"Why?"

Fox took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh that shuddered
slightly. "Because, my lady, I love you," he replied honestly. "I had
intended to attempt to win your affection by becoming a perfect husband,
but I seem to have failed miserably in that endeavor. I am afraid I
cannot promise you perfect behavior at all times, my lady, but I assure
you, I shall attempt--"

He was cut off by her lips on his. The kiss began softly, then deepened
until he felt light-headed and dizzy with renewed desire for her. At
last she raised her head, looking into his bemused face with quiet delight.

"Such an admission is difficult for a woman like me, Fox," she conceded,
"but you may rest assured, I never say things I do not mean."

Fox gave a brilliant smile and stroked his fingers through her hair,
pulling her down for another kiss.

His hands ran gently down her body, coming to rest over her womb where
their child--their /*son*/, he told himself happily--grew inside her.
Thankfully, the nausea seemed to have completely passed, and after such
a stressful ordeal, Fox found himself looking forward to breakfast.

His thoughts of food were quickly interrupted when she commented mildly,
"Just because I cherish you does not mean you shall escape punishment
for keeping secrets from me, Fox."

His expression changed to one of apprehension immediately. "What--will
you do, my lady?" he asked falteringly.

She appeared to consider. "Perhaps you should spend the morning in the
stocks," she replied. "Indeed, perhaps I shall give Thunder a morning
treat."

"Dana, no, please--" he began, but was again cut off by her lips as they
took possession of his. He felt himself growing warm and hard, and noted
with relief that her womanly parts were moistened with desire.

Moments later, all coherent thought fled from his brain as she took him
again, quite thoroughly. His last thoughts before dropping into an
exhausted sleep were of the two of them spending long and happy years
together.



Epilogue:

"Where is Fox?" Dana asked, entering the house after a morning of
visiting patients. "I have a letter from Melissa. I thought he would
enjoy hearing how Jake is adjusting to London."

"He is upstairs with the children," Maggie replied, moving her rook to
another square. "Walter, I fail to see how you, a mere man, can
repeatedly best me at chess!"

"You must be off your game, Maggie," he commented mildly. "Indeed, I'm
certain it must be the rainy weather that causes my lady to play so
poorly, constantly putting her queen in checkmate."

She looked into his soft brown eyes and smiled. "Perhaps I am merely
blinded by your beauty, my Bear."

Walter returned her smile happily, and Dana shook her head before
leaving the room. Her mother and Walter had grown much closer since Lady
Rutherford's attempt to take him away. It was almost nauseating to see
one's parents acting in such a manner.

She climbed the stairs quickly and entered their chamber to find Fox
lying on their bed, stroking their son's back. Elizabeth, their
daughter, was just beginning to fuss a bit in her crib.

"She wants feeding," he told her.

Dana picked up Elizabeth and settled herself in the rocking chair,
bringing the baby's soft rosebud mouth to her breast.

"I have had a letter from Melissa. She and Jake are well, settling
happily into their marriage, and Jake is thrilled with life in London."

Fox grinned at her. "My cousin always hated the isolation of the
country," he told her. "I'm certain he will find unlimited mischief in
London. I, on the other hand, would wish nothing more than to remain
here with you and our children for the rest of my life."

"I cannot believe they are already six months old," she commented,
staring at Elizabeth's face in wonder. "Fox, as I said once before, I
find myself quite content with my life. Although you have certainly
added excitement to it," she continued, her eyes twinkling.

Fox caressed the soft hair of Elizabeth's twin brother, Douglas. "We
have been through much together, my beloved lady."

"Indeed we have. However, I have no doubt that I can meet any difficulty
life may send my way, as long as you are at my side until I go to meet
the Goddess."

He frowned at the thought. "And if I should meet Her first?"

She glared him sternly. "You shall not. I expressly forbid it."

"Yes, my lady." His expression was glum at the idea of life without her,
and she quickly amended her decree.

"We shall go together."

Fox smiled, his hand resting on the baby's back, and kissed his son's
soft cheek.

"Many, many years from now."

"Oh, indeed," she agreed. "I wish many more daughters from you first, Fox."

Still not forgetting how ill he had felt during the beginnings of Dana's
pregnancy, Fox shot her an irritated look, but she ignored him, prosing
onward, "Perhaps I shall try for triplets next time."

He buried his groan in the coverlet.

THE END