Chapter 7 #2
She sniffed and stomped off. “Don’t forget to conduct yourself as the lady you are. I do not wish to disgrace you further by reddening your backside. And take note that I prefer to deal with disobedience and tantrums in the spot they happen.”
Her outraged squeal was almost too adorable to hold in his laughter.
He succeeded though because he needed her safe and that was no laughing matter to him.
Her protection was everything and Lady Lilliana needed to learn how to be obedient, or her future would be filled with humbling moments as his lessons were taught to her.
By the time she was ready to leave, she was in a mood, and an eagle eye was what was needed.
He was glad he had decided not to rely on a footman to keep her in sight.
She was going to be a trial today. Besides, he had every intention of following through with her lesson if she continued to defy him recklessly.
They used two stable horses to go into town. Lilli was pleasant enough, having pushed back her Little one to the recesses of her being. Her Little darling appeared more often now, and he missed her when she was gone.
Lilli was accommodating during their search and when she asked if they could stop in at the pub for refreshment, he agreed.
He should have known she was not as compliant as she appeared for when he returned with their drinks, she was gone.
The woman next to him smiled, displaying her decaying teeth.
He swallowed his dislike and asked, “Did you see where my companion went?”
The woman shrugged. “Maybe the privy. But I’m more woman that that bit of muslin.”
He wanted to show his anger at the reference. Lilli was not meant to gratify his manly needs, yet, but it didn’t matter. She had gone again. He took a long drink of his ale and went in search of his errant girl. This time he would teach her the lesson she had been begging for.
She hadn’t gone far. He asked those standing outside which way she had gone and they all pointed in one direction. He quickened his pace and found her speaking to the storekeeper that had been gone when they had wandered past.
“Lady Lilliana, it is time to go.” He sounded calm and easy going, but he knew his girl would understand the iron running through his words.
“But he knows Father.”
“Does he indeed?” His interest peaked, he inquired further. “And when was the last time you saw Her Ladyship’s father?”
“Not long ago.”
“I see. And what name did he go by?”
“Beg pardon, milord?”
Lilli whispered as though on stage, “It’s Your Grace. He is a duke.”
The man hesitated for the first time. “Apologies, Your Grace. What name? Why, Edmund. Lord Edmund."
” I see. And where does he live?”
“Nowhere that I know, Your Grace. He just wanders in every month or two and fills his supplies. He isn’t fine like the two of you are.”
“How long has he been coming into the village?”
“Oh, long as I have had this shop, at least. That were fifteen years ago.”
Lilli deflated. “Oh. That is too long to be my father. Thank you for your kindness, sir.”
Oliver grunted and tossed the shopkeeper a tarnished silver coin that glinted briefly in the late afternoon sunlight. “Thank you, sir. You have been most helpful. I bid you a good day.”
With a firm grip that brooked no argument, Oliver seized the worn leather halter of Lilli’s chestnut mare. His jaw clenched as he led her horse away from the dusty shop front, the cobblestones uneven beneath their feet.
“Lilliana, that was utterly unacceptable,” he said, his deep voice carrying a note of restrained anger.
Her delicate chin lifted defiantly, green eyes flashing like emeralds. “What, going back to ask about my father? I don’t think so since I am here just for that reason. It doesn’t matter now, surely. I have not found him, and it is likely he is dead or long gone from England.”
Oliver’s heart constricted painfully in his chest as he gazed at his darling’s flushed cheeks and trembling lower lip, but he hardened himself against her distress.
He would not tolerate such willful disobedience, or he would never keep her within the confines of societal expectations—hell, his own expectations, which were far less stringent than most.
“I understand your devastation,” he said, voice softening slightly as he guided her through the narrow, winding street, “but going off on your own is unacceptable for your reputation at the very least, deadly at the worst, with plenty of perilous ground in between. You are done now. We are going home. But first,” his voice dropped to a husky whisper that only she could hear, “I am putting your naughty, disobedient self over my eager lap to smack some sense into you.”
Her porcelain skin blanched. “You will not!”
Oliver laughed, the sound rich and confident in the cool air. “I absolutely am. The grace you are receiving from me is that I am not spanking you right here in the streets of the village as I would like.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Her voice quavered despite her bold words. “I shall not speak to you until you have shown yourself sensible.”
Oliver continued to smile, watching the way her riding habit clung to her slender form as she attempted to maintain her dignity.
His Little darling was showing herself again.
For a woman who was extremely responsible within the confines of her home, she was definitely not that away from it—in his company, anyway.
Perhaps she felt comfortable enough with him to let loose her inhibitions.
Regardless, that woman is going to get what she has been begging for since I became acquainted with her.
True to her word, Lilli remained silent as Oliver escorted her up the creaking wooden stairs to their small room at the inn. The key turned in the lock with a decisive click. “It is time for you to answer for your actions, little one.”
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating with fear. “I will scream.”
“Then I shall go down to the innkeeper and explain that you have been disobedient.” He stepped closer, the scent of her lavender perfume filling his senses. “Any screaming will be because you are getting your arse well and truly smacked.”
The horror that washed over her lovely face, draining the last bit of color from her cheeks, was all the reaction Oliver could have hoped for. “Please, Oliver,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she twisted her gloved hands together, “you cannot. I shall be mortified.”
He reached out to stroke her flushed cheek with his thumb. “Then you will take your correction like a lady who knows she has done wrong and has earned the smacks. And you will call me Daddy during the punishment.”