Training Lady Townsend (Properly Spanked 1)

There was a knock, and then the sound of boots crossing her sitting room. Lord Townsend must have come directly from downstairs. She could hide here or go out to welcome him. If she hid here, he’d only come in to get her, so she decided to present herself to him instead.

“My lord,” she said in greeting.

“Aurelia.” He looked fresh and bright-eyed, his hair a bit windblown from being outdoors. He smelled faintly of horse, but more of his gentlemanly sandalwood scent. “I’ve been out to make some calls, and then into the village,” he said. “I brought you something. A gift.”

The rectangular parcel was for her, then. It was rather wonderful that he’d thought to bring her something, and the way he smiled...broadly and with pure delight. Before she could look more closely at her gift, he hid it behind his back.

“I should ask first if you are a squeamish sort. Do you like insects?”

Aurelia gaped at him. “No. Not very much.”

“But this one is special. Come and look.” He held it out, and she noted it wasn’t a box exactly, but a fine-mesh covered frame of polished wood. At first she thought it was empty inside, but then she saw a flutter of movement and discovered a sleek, very large grasshopper in one corner of the box.

“Oh,” she said, shocked. “It’s a cage for a bug.”

“A cage?” Her husband frowned. “It’s a habitat, not a cage. You see, the creature can move about and breathe through the mesh. You can put vegetation inside, such as wheat or barley. The shopkeeper assured me they love alfalfa. It’s meant to be a pet.”

“A grasshopper for a pet?” She peered in at the poor trapped creature. “Who would think of such a thing?”

He didn’t answer at first, only gave her a devilish look. “I keep a grasshopper for a pet. I find her rather diverting.”

Did he mean her? She felt laughter bubble up in her throat. She clamped her lips shut so the merriment wouldn’t escape, but one small giggle did anyway.

“I am not a grasshopper,” she said, trying to be sober, “at least not a real grasshopper like this one.” He had brought her a grasshopper as a gift! She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it. She took the cage and carried it closer to the window in the east corner of the room. They peered through the mesh together. She’d never seen a grasshopper so close up, that was certain. It was larger than she thought a grasshopper would be, with iridescent, patterned markings and delicate wings.

“Oh, they can fly,” she said. “I never realized. I thought they only hopped.”

Lord Townsend looked closer. “I’m not sure they can fly.”

“But it has wings, you see? And look at how strong the legs are fashioned. I suppose this one could hop quite far without using its wings at all. Oh, it’s a lovely thought, Townsend, but it shouldn’t be kept in a cage.”

His eyes widened above the mesh. “I believe that’s the first time you haven’t lorded me, Aurelia.”

She flushed. “Well, it’s the first time you’ve gotten me a gift.”

“I ought to have done it sooner then. If you don’t take care, you’ll be calling me Hunter soon, and acting like a fond wife.”

They stared at one another. When he smiled, how handsome he was! She didn’t know if she could ever bring herself to call him Hunter, and be so casual and intimate. As she considered the possibility, a green blur launched itself from the mesh enclosure.

Aurelia gasped. “Oh, look, the clasp’s fallen open. The grasshopper’s escaped the cage.”

“It’s not a cage,” he insisted, turning to look for the thing. “It’s a habitat.”

Then both of them dispensed arguing and set about to locate the creature. “Be careful where you step,” she said. “It would be horrible to crush it.”

“Where has it gone?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure it can jump great distances,” said Aurelia, remembering its thick legs. “And it has wings. What if it flies out of the room?”

“They can’t fly, for God’s sake. They’re called grasshoppers, not grassflyers.”

The escaped insect chose that moment to fly with a great buzzing racket across the length of the room. Lord Townsend ran after it, waving his arms.

“It’s going to go in my bed,” Aurelia shrieked. She and Townsend collided in their efforts to ward off the thing. Both of them fell, her husband guiding her atop him with a quick twist of his frame, so she was rescued from a hard crash to the floor.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He raised and lowered his head. “I’m fine, but the grasshopper’s gone silent. I fear I may have landed on our new friend.”

“Oh, no.” Aurelia hoped it wasn’t so. “It’s terrible luck to kill a grasshopper in your home.”

“I’m going to turn over and you must look beneath me for the guts, my dear.”

She was about to protest that she couldn’t possibly do such a thing. To locate a smashed grasshopper beneath her husband? But then she realized he was laughing. He tumbled her up and over so he was in the superior position over her.

“You were teasing about smashing it,” she said, blushing.

“I haven’t smashed it, I’m sure. It’s too quick for us.”

“What will become of it, loose in the house?”

His laughing gaze turned tender. “Are you afraid for it, my love? How quickly you grow attached. We shall have to get you a proper pet. A kitten or puppy would be more cuddly than a grasshopper.”

She blinked, remembering long ago scolding and reprimands. “We always had pets at home, but I was never permitted to cuddle with them.”

“Nor sprawl about on the ground having picnics. I remember. But you are sprawled on the ground now, or on the floor anyway. What a naughty girl you are.” Her eyes widened as much at his tone as his provocative expression. “Speaking of naughty, how is your bottom today?”

“It’s very well,” she assured him, to no avail. He was already pushing her onto her stomach, right there on the floor, and pulling her skirts up. She tried in vain to resist him and push them back down. “What if a servant walks in?”

“Then they shall also see how your bottom is.” He put a hand on the small of her back to stop her squirming. “Let me look. You know where resistance will get you.”

Yes, she did know. She stopped fighting him and lay still. His fingers caressed her bottom cheeks while her stomach flip-flopped and her breasts pressed against the floor. She would not become aroused by this ignominious treatment. She would not.

After a few moments of lazy inspection, he made an approving sound. “No bruises, really. Nothing. You can take a good spanking, my dear, and barely show it the next day. Perhaps I’ll have to take advantage of that.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Her voice felt curiously tight in her throat.

“I’ll take your wishes into consideration,” he said, turning her back over. “But you know I’ll always do what I feel is best.”

“My mama wrote me today. She said respect within marriage can bring great dignity to both partners.”

“Ah, I agree with your mother.” A grin teased the corners of his mouth. “A respectful wife is a treasure indeed.”

Very well for him to be amused by her mother’s platitudes. She stuck her chin out. “I believe she meant that husbands too must show respect to their wives.”

“I’ll show you respect. After I show you a lot of other things.”

Her eyes widened as he moved his hips against her front. Why, he was blatantly aroused, the scoundrel, here, on the floor, in the middle of the day!

“Dignity between partners is no laughing matter,” she said in her most severe and prudent tone.

“Is it not?” And then her grinning husband commenced tickling her, running his fingers over her midsection and up to the sensitive underside of her arms. She couldn’t remember the last time such a thing had happened to her. She didn’t know whether to beg for mercy or laugh until she couldn’t breathe. In the end she did both, flailing

and pushing at him, and even kicking once or twice, but laughing and shrieking too, as loud as her lungs could manage. She heard him laughing too, deep chuckles teasing her ear.

“Please, stop,” she gasped when she could draw in air.

“I don’t want to stop. I enjoy the sound of your laughter, prim Lady Dormouse.”

The name had hurt her so many times, but now he was calling her that in good humor, with a twinkle in his eye. It was altogether different, and really, she wasn’t a mouse, not anymore. She’d been laughing as loudly as any street urchin, and yes, sprawling about on the floor, even kicking in a most unladylike fashion. The tickling had stopped. He stared down now with a look she recognized, the intent look that always preceded a very thorough kiss.

But as he bowed his head, the shrill chirp-chirp of a grasshopper sounded not a few feet from where they lay.

They both froze and looked over toward the sound. Her husband drew a soft breath. “I see it. I think I can trap it in the corner under the table.”

“You won’t hurt it, will you?”