The Mercenary's Claim Page 5

  Kirsten laughed at that idea. “I suppose not.”

  “And this house, all your own, with no mother to tell you what to do or how to do it.”

  “I miss Mutti,” Kirsten confessed plaintively.

  “Please, Kirsten. After all the times I’ve heard you complain about your mother!”

  “I didn’t know what I was talking about. What a ninny I was.”

  Frena gave her a strange look. “I suppose we all wish for what we don’t have, or what someone else has. For example, I’d trade places with you any day. A handsome young husband like Gustav!”

  “How would you know he’s handsome? You’ve never seen him.”

  “I have! Mother pointed him out to me through the window once, two years ago when he was visiting our falconer. Mother says he knows everyone, and my, he was handsome. I can only pray I get a man half as good-looking. You know the eligible bachelors around here! I’ll be lucky if I’m not given away to some old guild master as a payment for a debt. It’s my sister who has the only chance of being somebody in the world, and I wouldn’t trade places with her. Looks like father is giving her to the old count.”

  “Oh, my,” Kirsten breathed. “That does give one pause.”

  “It does indeed. Don’t tell me you haven’t been counting your lucky stars!”

  Kirsten looked around doubtfully. “This manor, Frena! Look! No wall, no moat, no decent town for miles. And,” she leaned forward as if afraid someone might overhear, “no proper servants.”

  “Oh,” gasped Frena. “I didn’t realize. But how do you manage?”

  Just then, Frena’s maid knocked on the door. “Time for my lady’s wash and rest. There’s a poppet. Come along.”

  Frena rolled her eyes as she rose. “Maybe you manage quite well. I think I could manage without these interruptions. See you at dinner.”

  While she refreshed herself and took a little rest, Kirsten thought about everything her cousin had said. Is it possible that Frena is right? Is it possible that Gustav brought her here just to convince me that my new situation isn’t so bad? But no, that’s not sensible. Gustav doesn’t care what I think. Does he? The way he looked at me last night has me wondering. Still he couldn’t have known what Frena would say. Sounds like Frena has thought this all through.

  * * *

  In her bedroom that evening, Kirsten prepared with extra care, brushing her long hair slowly and donning her most clinging nightgown. She had noticed that Gustav was always particularly attentive when she wore this gown; its neckline was low and fitted, its lace soft and fine. When she was sure his eyes were on her, she turned to him with a soft smile. “I wanted to thank you,” she murmured in a low tone. “It’s wonderful to have Frena here with me.”

  Gustav gave her that jovial smile. “You’ve done well these past weeks. I thought it would serve as a treat for you and a test for me, to see if I’m fit for society yet. I didn’t do too badly, did I?”

  Kirsten found to her surprise that she was a bit disappointed when he didn’t pick up on her hint that she was interested in an amorous encounter. She tried again. “You did quite well.” Crossing to him, she stood behind his chair and reached over to tentatively rub his shoulders.

  “Though I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned that man’s arm I cut off in the battle. Ouch! Watch that left shoulder. I’ve a blasted great bruise there from training last week. Wern nearly knocked my head off with a blunted lance.”

  Kirsten jerked her hands back. “Sorry!”

  Gustav stood up and strode over to the chest to get his nightshirt. “Hop into bed, there’s a girl. The night is chill. I don’t want to feel like I’m handling a snowball when I fondle you.”

  “Ugh!” Kirsten growled under her breath. She jumped up onto the high bed and pulled the curtains closed behind her in a curt manner.

  He pulled open the curtains and slid under the sheets and blankets beside her. When he reached for her to pull her towards him, she tried to turn away from him but he firmly positioned her and began the caresses she had come to expect and almost freely enjoy. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt your shoulder?” she asked sarcastically. She expected that he would draw back at her rebuke.

  Instead, he laughed. “How? You never touch me when I do this. Come, girl, let’s not pretend. We both want an heir. You’ve made it clear you want nothing more from me, but you do want that, as do I, so let’s get down to business, shall we?”

  “Down to business? Is that all I am to you? A vessel to bear you a child?” She tried to look into his face, but it was simply too dark to see.

  “Do you want to be more?” he asked, sounding truly astonished. “I know, as much as you coach and correct me, I’m not a nobleman. Never will be worthy of you. I know that. But you’re making the best of a bad situation, as am I. Now, don’t do that!”

  She had started to cry. “What do you care?”

  “I won’t bed a crying woman! Even a commoner has his pride.” He stormed out of the room. Kirsten could hear him mutter under his breath as he left, “I’ll wager Wern doesn’t have to listen to tears and sobs from Neslin.”

  After a few minutes, Kirsten heard a tentative knock at the door. Her heart clenched as she assumed it was Gustav, returned to storm at her to lie back quietly and do her duty, or even worse, to take out his anger on her backside. She stuck her head out of the bed curtains and heard Frena’s voice. “Kirsten? Is everything all right? My maid just heard Sir Gustav storming down the hall in a temper.” She slipped in the door, carrying a lit candle in a holder.

  “Oh, Frena!” Kirsten sobbed. “What’s going on? I was trying to be nice to him and he completely ignored me. Then when he wanted me, I tried to repulse him and he didn’t care. Just continued on as if I hadn’t a feeling or idea that counted for that!” She snapped her fingers to show her disdain.

  “Well, do you care for him? You can’t expect him to care for you if you won’t meet him halfway.”

  “He cares enough when I displease him. He gets so angry he hits me.”

  “Hits you?”

  “On my bottom! He spanks me.”

  “Oh, well, that doesn’t count as hitting, but it does show he cares. When did he do that? Tonight?”

  “No, back at my father’s home and once soon after we got here.”

  “And not since then? Oh, dear. Perhaps you haven’t provoked him since.”

  Kirsten sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I never provoke him. He overreacts. Except of course when I want him to. Then he doesn’t react at all.”

  “I see.”

  Kirsten was afraid Frena did see, all too well. “He said something about Wern and Neslin. I don’t know what he meant.”

  “Men say a lot of things, especially when they’ve just left a bedroom in anger. And women say things they don’t mean, too, especially when they’re in a family way. Could you be with child?”

  “It’s possible,” answered Kirsten contemplatively.

  “He pleases you then, at least a little, I would bet.”

  “He pleases me,” Kirsten admitted grudgingly.

  “Do you please him?”

  “I suppose I do.”

  “It’s not that hard to please a man, from what I hear. Did he say anything else?”

  “First he said something about me only wanting an heir and how we shouldn’t pretend I wanted anything else. Then he said he would never be worthy of me. That part’s true. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

  Frena looked disapproving. “Perhaps not, but a man has his pride, Kirsten. You can’t let him think that you think that he’s beneath you.”

  “But he is!”

  This time, Frena’s look was more incredulous. “Are you so sure? I’m not. And from your tears, I think you’re not sure either. There’s nothing wrong with being in love with your husband.”

  There was a long pause before Kirsten whispered, “There is if he’ll never love me.”

  “Sounds like you haven’t given him
much of a reason to try.”

  Kirsten cried all the harder, until Frena took her in a kindly hug. “What am I to do?”

  “First of all, don’t take on so! You’ll be no prettier tomorrow if your eyes are swollen and red from crying. And then, well… give him a reason to look at you. That’s the first step.”

  “But how?”

  “From what you said, it sounds like he thinks you want a business arrangement, nothing more. If you show him some kindness, make an effort to please him, surely he’ll respond.”

  Kirsten looked doubtful. “I tried tonight. He just complained I hurt his shoulder.” She put her lips out in a pout.

  “And avoid that look at all costs,” Frena teased. “It makes your eyes look small. Smile. Be light-hearted, like he is. And don’t touch his shoulder. Just make sure you purr when he touches you. A man likes that, or so my mother says.”

  “I’ll give it another try, I guess.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to praise his efforts in acting more like a nobleman,” Frena suggested. “You did criticize a good bit at dinner.”

  “I only told him the truth.”

  “Yes, well, sometimes the truth is like medicine: better doled out in little doses. Praise is more like bread: slice it thick and serve it liberally. At least that’s what mother says.”

  “Your mother surely knows a lot. Why doesn’t my mother know these things?”

  “She does. Who do you think my mother learned them from? You just weren’t listening. Good thing I’m here to remind you.” She laughed and hugged her cousin again. Talking late into the night, they fell asleep by the fire, where Gustav found them the next morning.

  Chapter Four

  The next few days were glorious with spring. Flowers outdid themselves to set the most blooms. Trees seemed to burst into leaf as if kindled with a green fire. The warm late spring breezes brought rain showers to wash away the leftover snow from the corners of the roof and courtyard. Gustav strode around the manor like a rooster in a granary, master of all the plenty he surveyed.

  Wern came rushing in one fine afternoon with a message in his hand. “Delivered just now from the battle at Rieberg. What does it say? Should I call Lady Frena?”

  “No need. I can read it myself, you know,” Gustav bragged. “Kirsten is a good teacher.”

  Wern looked impressed. “If you can learn from that picky little nag, all the more do I admire you!”

  “Nag? She’s not like that. Not any more. She’s been a different girl since Frena got here. Do you think she’s jealous and that’s why she’s changed? I can’t explain it, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll keep Frena here permanently.” He laughed heartily as he opened the parchment.

  Wern forced a chuckle that ended in a grunt. “What news?”

  “It’s over. Varin is on his way, victorious, of course. When he comes, I’ll go with him and the troops as far as Westfeld. I need to seek out a blacksmith. We’re ready for one in these parts, don’t you think? I’ll give him the rent of the new shop we built free for a year. By then, he’ll have enough clientele built up that we’ll get an excellent return on our investment.”

  “You make it sound like you’ve already got the man convinced, packed and on the wagon heading here.”

  “Do you doubt I can? After these last few days, I think I could convince the mountain to move here, if I put my mind to it.”

  “What’s gotten into you? Some spell or a new ale you’ve been hiding from me?”

  “It’s little Kirsten, of course. Your mistress has finally decided that your lord may have some potential. She’s been as friendly as a kitten since her cousin arrived. That was all it took, you know. Just a little kindness. You ought to try it. I’ve got her eating out of my hand.”

  “Neslin has no complaints to make. Not about me anyway.”

  Gustav frowned. “That’s the second time you’ve hinted that Kirsten hasn’t changed her ways. I know she’s working harder. And she’s as sweet as cream to me.”

  “To Neslin she’s more like curdled milk. I’ve had a job convincing her to stay in your kitchen.”

  Gustav’s frown turned into a scowl. “Is that so?”

  “It’s always been so.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I did tell you. You said there was nothing to be done and we all had to endure for the sake of the plan, so I did. But don’t expect me to go singing her praises. She hasn’t shown us the sunny side she’s shown her husband and cousin.”

  “I see. Hmmm…”

  * * *

  “You called me, my lord?” Kirsten said with a sly grin as she shut the door behind herself. “I’d have thought this morning would have worn my stallion out, but if he wants another gallop, far be it from me to refuse.” She ripped the scarf from her hair in a dramatic manner, letting her tresses swing free.

  “I called you in here, but not for a gallop.”

  Sudden apprehension gripped Kirsten’s mind. “Then why do you have your riding crop in your hand?”

  “I’ve been hearing things that please me very little, my dear wife.” Gustav’s voice took on a growl she could not remember hearing before.

  “Such as?”

  “You yelled at Wern in front of his family.”

  “He deserved it. He was cheeky.”

  “He’s used to treating me as an equal. I can’t just suddenly demand that he call me ‘sir’ because your father gave me a title. In the same way, you can’t expect him to treat you like a queen, especially when you provoke him.”

  “He’s a servant.”

  “He’s my friend. He’s saved my life more than once.”

  “As was his duty.”

  “Granted. His duty is to me. You stay out of it. And then there’s the matter of the way you treat Neslin.”

  “What do you mean? I’m a fair and just mistress of this manor.”

  “Treating Neslin like the meanest peasant, from what I hear. I had a little talk with her earlier today. She told me a few things.”

  Kirsten tossed her scarf aside and reached for the door. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

  “Oh, yes, you do, my lady.”

  She glared daggers at him but could not pull the door one inch, because he was leaning against it, his face inches from hers. She could feel the anger coming off of him in waves. “Why are you taking her part against me? I’m your wife. You should be instructing her to be more careful and to work faster.”

  “Did you, or did you not,” he asked, ignoring her complaint, “call her a lazy cow?”

  “I may have.”

  “In front of her daughter?”

  “It’s possible. I don’t pay much attention to the brat.”

  “Ilse is as well-behaved and hard-working a girl as I’ve ever seen. Of all the dreck you’ve apparently given Neslin over the weeks, I do believe she would have put up with anything, without complaint, except the insult to her child.”

  “Why are you suddenly so angry? I treat them as I’ve always treated them. They are servants. That’s how servants are treated by nobles.”

  “Not in this house, they’re not!” So saying, Gustav snagged Kirsten up by the waist and hoisted her unceremoniously into the air. Pushing her skirts up over her waist, he applied the crop to her bare backside, five times on each cheek.

  Kirsten squealed, her bottom on fire as if she had sat on a pincushion and stayed there. “Ow! OW! OWW! Please, no! No!”

  He laid her over the edge of the bed, trapping her there with his strong left hand at the small of her back. Again he swung the crop, this time across her behind in long stripes that left pink lines in ranks up and down her from the tops of her thighs to the middle of her rounded bottom. “You may be teaching me how to be civil, but I’m going to teach you when to be civil. You will be polite to one and all, do you hear?”

  “Yes, ow, yes! Please stop! Pl-please!”

  “Are you going to be good?”

  “Yes, I promise!”


  “Are you sorry you were rude?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry!”

  “Prove it. Show me you’re sorry by obeying me now.” He paused for a moment.

  When her breathing returned to normal, she asked, “How? What do you want from me?”

  “Part your legs. Spread them wide. Wider. There.”

  It made her blush bright red with embarrassment to think of him seeing her most intimate parts. Even in their most intimate moments, the candle, if one burned at all, was placed far away so that they were in deepest shadow. Now, here in the sunlight, she lay with all her womanhood on display along with her now thoroughly reddened and throbbing backside. She turned her head away so she did not have to look into his eyes, but she knew better than to try to get away from him. He was too strong, too quick, and had an arm reach like a striking cobra.

  He used the head of the crop to rub her backside for a moment, as if inspecting his work. “Not nearly red enough yet,” he murmured, as if to himself. “Got to make more of an impression than this.” He put the crop down, and then returned to his work, this time with his hand, which on her already tender flesh felt like fire. In only a few minutes, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, unable to stay still.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she squealed. “Please, st-stop!”

  “Are you going to behave?”

  “Yes, yes, I promise.”

  He waited for a moment, his hand still on her back, pressing her into the soft mattress. When at last he released her, he said, “We’re not done. I just want to see my progress so far. Over by the mantel.”

  There was no fire in the grate on this fine spring day, but the light from the window fell across the room to illuminate the hearth where she stood, blushing bright red with shame. She had so wanted to please him, had been so proud of how close they had become the last few days. Now, he seemed to hate her.

  “Three more and we’re done.” He had the riding crop in his hand once more. “Count them out.”

  She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but she could guess. When the first stripe fell, she forced herself to say, “One.” The second fell beneath it, on the crease between her thigh and her buttock. She gasped. “Two.” The third stroke, hard, burning, fell above the others. “Three,” she said and stood there panting.