Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(105)

“Silence,” he said.

She let her head drop forward and complied. Geoffrey’s soft tap on her lips hadn’t hurt—not too badly. It was the least of her worries.

Geoffrey’s fingers moved across her cheek and lifted her face, turning it so that he could stare down at it. His thumb brushed across the sore cheek, the one the Countess had repeatedly slapped.

“Did you really have to mar her face?” His fingers gently turned Louisa to examine the bruise further. “I thought we had always been clear about leaving marks that show.”

“She won’t be the first wife who walked into a door.” The Countess stepped forward, the pistol still aimed at Geoffrey’s chest.

“That may be true, but it can cause people to ask questions, questions I don’t want to be bothered with.”

“You always were too concerned with what people thought.”

“And you were never concerned enough. Do you really want the count looking too closely at your activities?”

The Countess shivered, but then gathered herself. “That old fool will never realize—”

“That ‘old fool’ has organized armies and won battles. I would not underestimate your husband.”

“And besides, he is not here.” The Countess picked up the crop and held it out to Geoffrey. “And now I think we should progress.” The pistol did not waver in the least.

Geoffrey took the crop, his long fingers wrapping tight about the handle. He let the tip drop, tapping it against his boot.

The Countess smiled. Louisa felt her blood congeal.

Geoffrey stopped back, pausing only to lay one more comforting stroke along Louisa’s cheek.

“You haven’t even commented on how I saved all that virgin skin for you—there are only the slightest of marks on one leg. I know her face upsets you, but really, I had to enforce obedience some way. She did not understand her place at first.”

“No, Louisa would not have.”

What was that tone she heard in his voice? Louisa could not be sure. Was he still trying to comfort her, or did he actually believe she was too stubborn. God, she wished her head would clear, wished she could understand all the levels of the conversation that swirled about her.

“And yes, thank you for not already having her marked and bloody when I arrived.” Geoffrey’s tone was curiously flat.

“I did remember how much you liked to leave your own marks, so neat and precise.” The Countess moved back and Louisa lost sight of her.

A shiver ran along Louisa’s body as she felt the crop slowly skim across it. In other circumstances the touch might have been enjoyable, a slow, easy tease. This was not other circumstances; now all she could think was that it was a whip, a whip that might soon bite into her flesh. Her inner thigh still burned from the Countess’s single stroke.

She wanted to scream, to yell, but knew that upsetting the careful balance between Geoffrey and the Countess was risky. Did he have a plan? She could only pray, could only trust in God and her husband.

“Well …?” The Countess’s soft word seemed to fill the room.

Still nothing happened.

“Do I need to—”

“No,” Geoffrey answered. “Just give me a moment to anticipate.”

“A moment, but only a moment. I have been waiting for this all day—and I know I’ve said it before, but I truly can summon Jack in. He doesn’t share our tastes, but is more than able to complete any task asked of him with great strength and vigor.”

Nothing happened. It felt as if the room had frozen. Louisa could almost hear the ice forming.

And then she heard something else: a whistle, a shriek of air.

A scream left her lips even before the crop finished its descent.



Catching the stroke back, Geoffrey stared down at Louisa’s still smooth back. Her breaths were coming rapidly, her ribs rising and falling in quick sensation. He could feel the panic that filled her.

“She disobeyed you and screamed. I thought you could keep her silent,” the Countess said, stepping nearer. “You will have to punish her most severely.” The glee rang clear in her voice, the want dripping from her.

His stomach roiled in disgust. “I happen to like the occasional scream. It is thrilling to get such reaction before I even begin. And is there a problem with the noise? I would have thought the location safe, no matter what sounds left it.” His fingers tightened about the whip. Could he actually use it, even to save them both? He wasn’t sure. He knew Louisa’s cry of fear would stay with him always. His soul felt numb. If only he could fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness. This was not how he’d planned things. Why had he not considered that the Countess would have a gun?

He forced his mind to the here and now. What was happening outside this room was beyond his control. He would manage what could be controlled.

“Yes, the spot is safe,” the Countess answered. “Nobody sees or hears anything in this area.”

“Good. I was counting on that.”

“She does still need to be punished for that scream—and I do believe she’s enjoying the anticipation. Look how she glistens. Do you think it’s because you’re here, or is it simply my oil working its magic?”

Placing the tip of the crop upon his wife’s ass, he slowly allowed it to drop down. The Countess was right that Louisa was slick, but he was sure it had far more to do with the burn of the oil than anything else. He’d seen the terror in his wife’s eyes. She was not enjoying this. Not in the least.