by Geraldine Hillis
"Excuse me, Milady, but the master wishes to see you in his study."
The Lady Alice frowned. It was seldom her father summoned her to the study, except for disciplinary purposes, and though she searched her mind, she could think of nothing she had done recently which would warrant punishment. "Did he say what he wanted of me, Jarvis?" she asked the impassive butler.
"No, madam, merely that he wished to see you," he replied evenly.
She scowled, making her pretty features quite unattractive. "Oh, well," she sighed. "I suppose I'd better see what he wants." And she made her way ungraciously to the study. As she neared the door, however, her bravado began to wear thin. Interviews with Papa could be painful affairs, and it was with a quickly beating heart that she tapped gently and entered at her father's command.
With a feeling of some relief she saw that Sir David did not look angry. She curtseyed respectfully. "You sent for me, Papa?"
"Yes, my dear." He rose and came towards her, taking both her hands in his. "I have good news for you, Alice. Lord Richard Carmichael has recently returned from his travels in Europe, and has expressed his wish to meet with you at the earliest opportunity."
She gazed at him in astonishment. "Lord Richard? You mean ...?"
"Yes, Alice. The man to whom you have been promised since you were a little girl. Now, isn't that exciting?"
Though he clearly expected her to greet the news with rapture, she could not bring herself to do so. "But, Papa ... surely after all these years ... he cannot still expect to honour that agreement! It was so long ago, and really, I have no wish to marry at this time."
Sir David frowned. "Alice, you are nineteen years old. It is high time you were wed, and Richard is a fine man. Of course, if he should prove distasteful to you, you mother and I would not force you to accept any proposal he may make, and ..."
"Distasteful! Of course I shall find him distasteful! He is old!"
"Nonsense, Alice. He is thirty-six ... hardly in his dotage yet." He swept aside her objections. "Lord Richard will dine with us tonight. You will go now to your room and begin to prepare. I shall send your maid to assist you. And Alice," he added warningly, "you will be on you best behaviour. I will not tolerate the slightest impertinence or rudeness from you this evening. Do you understand?"
Defeated for the moment, she muttered a quick, "Yes, sir," and with the slightest of curtseys, hastened from the room. Sir David leaned back in his chair and sighed. She had never been a docile girl. She was given to temper, obstinacy and fits of sullenness, and he wondered if perhaps it would be Richard who might decide that the long promised marriage would not, after all, take place.
When Alice reached her room, she found her maid, Susan, already in attendance. A bath had been drawn, and Susan was busily searching through the wardrobe for a suitable gown. "Oh Milady, isn't it exciting? I hear Lord Richard's ever so handsome, and mighty rich too. You'll make a lovely bride, Milady ... now what shall you wear tonight? The blue satin just sets off your eyes so nicely, but the saffron goes so well with ..."
"Susan! Will you stop that infernal chattering and just leave me alone! I do not care which gown you lay out, for I shall not be joining the others for dinner! Now go!"
"But ... Milady ... Sir David said ..." began the startled girl.
Alice's temper flared. "I am not interested in what Sir David said," she yelled. "Just get out!" She lifted a phial of perfume from the dressing table and threw it violently towards Susan, who ran out with a frightened shriek, slamming the door, just as the glass shattered against it.
Alice sank down upon her bed, and began to weep tears of anger and frustration. How dare they? How dare he? She would not allow them to decide her future as though she were a piece of property to be disposed of on a whim. Crossing to her wardrobe, she threw gowns of lace and silk, satin and velvet, to the floor until she unearthed her riding habit. She changed quickly. For a moment she listened carefully at the door, and, hearing no movement, slipped out into the hallway. Furtively, she crept along the passage to the back stairway, down to the garden door, seldom used at this time of day, and out into the early evening air. Now for the stables!
She had almost reached her goal when a hand gripped her wrist. She gasped and tried to pull away, but was unable to do so. Twisting herself round furiously to see who it was who handled her so ungently, she found herself looking up into the eyes of a man who could only be ... Lord Richard Carmichael!
Lord Richard bowed, but did not release his hold. "Why, Lady Alice," he said smoothly, "how you've grown since I last saw you. You can only have been ... nine or ten? And what a lovely young lady you have become. Perhaps you have forgotten that we are to dine together this evening?" He smiled. "No matter. I'm so glad I ... er ... caught you. Allow me to escort you back to the house." He turned and began to stride purposefully towards the front door, dragging a speechless Alice behind him.
Jarvis answered the bell, and if he was surprised to see the esteemed guest in possession of the young Lady of the house, he did not show it. Gravely he relieved Lord Richard of hat and cloak, and announced his arrival to the master and mistress.
As Richard approached the drawing room, Alice regained some of her powers of speech. "Let me go!" she said in an urgent whisper. "Unhand me at once! I shall scream!"
He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Scream, Milady? Whatever for? Have I not saved you from the dangers of riding out alone? And at night too. You should be thanking me." And he entered to greet his host and hostess.
Sir David's furious glance swept over his daughter, and only his rigid self-control prevented a scene right there and then. "Good evening, Lord Richard," he said courteously. "Perhaps you and Lady Caroline would care to have a sherry before dinner. I have ... er ... one or two things to attend to." His tone brooked no defiance as he addressed Alice, though he did not raise his voice. "Your chamber ... now!"
Alice took one look at his angry expression and fled. Her father followed, leaving his guest and his wife to become reacquainted. He entered her room to find her standing nervously amid the debris of the scattered clothing and broken glass. "I have never been so disappointed in you in my life," he said sadly.
The bathtub still stood in front of the fireplace. "You will have your bath and be ready in your petticoats in fifteen minutes. Don't bother with your drawers ... you will not be requiring them just yet."
"But ..." Alice looked aghast. "The bathwater is cold now, Papa."
"That," he said, "is entirely your own fault. It wasn't cold when it was prepared for you. I shall send Susan to assist you." He left.
Even then, Alice considered defying her father, and simply locking the door. Common sense prevailed, however, and she knew she had gone much too far. Shivering before the dying embers of the fire, she stripped off her garments and plunged into the chilly water.
A gentle tap at the door announced the arrival of Susan, who entered a little apprehensively. She helped her young mistress with her ablutions, and Alice felt a twinge of guilt for her behaviour. "Susan ... I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier ... and for throwing things at you. Forgive me, please."
"Oh, Milady, there's nothing to forgive," she replied comfortingly. "'Tis natural you be nervous ... what with meeting your bridegroom and all. Now ... which gown shall it be?"
Alice, now in her petticoats, shrugged. "I don't know ... I'm not sure I shall be allowed dinner tonight. In any case, Sir David has ordered that I am not to be ... fully dressed just yet."
"Oh, I see." Susan glanced at her sympathetically, understanding the meaning of the master's instruction. She busied herself in bringing some order to the room, and was about to leave when Sir David entered, carrying a razor strop. "Beg pardon, Milord," she said, blushing. "I was just going to ..."
"I wish you to stay, Susan," he said. "Your mistress will require your further attention shortly, I believe." He turned his attention to Alice, as the maid bobbed her head and stood back against the wall. "Well, daughter," he continued, "have you anything to say for yourself?"
She drew a deep breath, knowing what she was about to endure, but unwilling to back down. "I ... I know I should not have tried to sneak off, Papa. But ..." Again her uncertain temper flickered. "I will not marry that man!"
With almost saintly patience, her father spoke calmly. "Alice, you are being forced into nothing. An arrangement was made many years ago, but it is not legally binding in any way. Should you dislike Lord Richard for any reason, or should he dislike you ... and that seems most likely ... then either party is free to end the alliance." His voice became stern. "You are not to be punished for not wishing to marry him, but rather for your flagrant disobedience and for leaving the house without permission. Now please take your position."
Father and daughter stared at each other for a long moment. It was Alice who dropped her gaze first. Without a word, she moved to face the end of the bed, and bent over the foot-board. Sir David nodded to Susan. "Prepare the Lady Alice, please."
Flushed with embarrassment, Susan stepped forward and lifted her mistress's petticoats above her waist, revealing her long, slender legs and smooth, white buttocks. They would not remain smooth and white for long, she knew. She stood back and averted her eyes as the master took his position and raised the strop.
CRACK! The leather sizzled across Alice's bottom, leaving a broad red welt. Before she had time to cry out, a second lash was burning its fire into her flesh ... and a third. THWACK! She moaned as the next stroke landed, harder than before, and on the next gave vent to an agonised shriek. The sixth bit into her, and she threw back her hand in a vain attempt to protect herself, only to find her wrist caught in a firm grip. "If you do that again, Alice," said her father quietly, "I shall call Jarvis to restrain you."
"I'm sorry, Papa ... I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Please don't ..." He released her, and she resumed her position, grasping the eiderdown tightly.
CRACK! Sir David applied this one right across her tender crease, causing her kick out and twist to one side. Thus placed, the eighth caught her around the right hip, and she screamed. Her creamy flesh was welted and bruised, but still the strapping did not stop. Again and again the strop fell ... now high over both cheeks, now low across her thighs, now crossing earlier stripes. There was no respite. Her whole body throbbed, and just as she was certain she could take no more, it stopped. She lay there weakly, sobbing convulsively.
Her father gave her a moment or two to recover, then touched her gently on the shoulder. "You have forty-five minutes, my dear. I shall expect you in the dining room, properly dressed and ready to comport yourself with dignity and civility. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered, then added with a hint of defiance, "but I still won't marry him!"
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.