A Proper Lord's Wife (Properly Spanked Legacy 2)

“Jane, watch out!”

It happened in seconds, but it seemed an hour that he stared at his wife’s delicate back and his stallion’s great hooves hovering just over top of it. She caught the snake with a panicked sob and stood, oblivious to Gallant’s right foreleg passing inches from her head. The horse twisted sideways as he pulled his wife to the stall’s door. She slipped out ahead of him with the snake held in a knot against her breast.

The entire stable had gathered to watch this drama play out. Now that she was safe again, a new uproar of chaos burst forth, with grooms yelling, the stable master coughing, and a lone stable boy crying where he stood. Jane cried too, cradling her snake. Her snake!

Townsend didn’t know where to begin unraveling his feelings. He reeled from anger, fear, shock, and a delayed sense of panic that burst forth in a furious scold.

“You brought a snake here?” he bellowed at Jane. “That is your pet?”

“His name is Mr. Cuddles.”

Her quietly reasonable response piqued him even more. She tutted at the creature, the cursed reptile that might have gotten her killed, checking it over for injury. When she was satisfied it was unscathed, she set it into a glass-faced box near the wood stove. As she closed and latched the box’s lid, he turned to his stable master.

“You knew my wife was bringing a snake? You built a cage for a snake?”

“Yes, my lord,” said the servant, abashed. “You said I was to follow the directions she sent.”

“He built it expertly well,” Jane said, taking his man’s defense. “It’s got the greenery, soil, and water I requested for the snake’s health. Now Mr. Cuddles will be safe and warm, and there will be no more danger from ill-behaved horses.”

“Ill-behaved horses? My horse is well behaved, my lady, when snakes aren’t being set free in his stall.”

“That was a mistake. Mr. Cuddles surprised that young man, and he dropped his enclosure.”

The stable boy cried harder, until one of the groomsmen led him away.

“Mr. Cuddles?” shouted Townsend, who couldn’t seem to control his temper. “You have a pet snake named Mr. Cuddles and you didn’t think to inform me of this before you brought it into my stables? Where is it from?” He peered into the enclosure. “Is it venomous?”

“Goodness no, my lord. He is a python regius from the grasslands of Africa. Well, from the Exeter Zoo.” She pushed back a lock of her orange-blond hair which had come undone in the fracas. “I adopted him when he was sickly and likely to die and nursed him back to health. He needed a home.”

Townsend glared at his wife. “His home is in the wild, not in Somerton’s stables.”

“He cannot be released into the wild, not unless I take him back to the African continent. He cannot survive England’s forest climate, especially not with his albino coloring.” Her lower lip trembled as she faced him. “Please, he’ll do no harm.”

“Only get you killed beneath the hooves of my goddamned stallion. Do you even realize what you did? Do you realize how close you came to disaster chasing that damned snake?”

He’d shouted curses at her twice now, because he didn’t know how to feel or how to take a full breath after watching his new wife almost get her head caved in by a panicked horse. She burst into tears, gripping the sides of her gown, now ruined with dirt and stains from grubbing about after her blasted African python. Mr. Cuddles? Of all the ridiculous, outrageous pets for a young woman to have. Did she cuddle the thing? He wanted to throw something.

“Go to the house,” he told her, modulating his voice with effort. “Go to your rooms now, as you ought to have done when you arrived, and change out of that muddied gown.”

“But my other pet—”

“There’s another?” He asked too loudly. He was still shouting. “Another snake?”

“No, my lord.” Her voice wavered as she took a step back. “Only a rabbit—a very small one—with a malformed foot.”

“A malformed rabbit.” He threw up his hands. “Of course.”

“That is all, my lord. All my pets, just those two. I ought to have told you about them. You see, I care for things, for miserable creatures that I find.”

“You care for them more than your own life? My horse could have snapped your spine or crushed your skull.”

“It was an accident,” she said, as if this might make everything that had happened—her near death—acceptable to him.

He could not bear to stay in the stable another moment. He turned on his heel to leave before he cursed at her again. “I will speak with you, Jane, as soon as your pets are settled,” he said over his shoulder. “You may await me in your rooms.”

He would not live this sort of life. He’d been married to her for less than two days and already felt his sanity slipping. He did not like chaos and uncontrolled situations, and having nightmares about pythons and trampled women. She must understand this was not acceptable.