Page 10 of A Raven Reformed

“You’re nothing but an arrogant bully. Who delights in hurting me. And keeping me prisoner.”

The list of all his faults and everything he’d done wrong continued, and the pain he heard behind the words hurt far more than her fists ever could.

“I just want to go home!” She slammed both of her fists into his chest before wracking sobs overtook her.

Only then, did he finally move. He wrapped his arms gently around her, and when she didn’t attempt to flee, he let out a relieved sigh. Instead, after a moment, she rested her cheek against his chest, continuing to cry. He simply held her, his heart aching.

Eventually, her sobs faded to sniffles, but she didn’t leave his embrace.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“I know.” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “I know.”

He stepped back slowly, holding onto her shoulders until he was sure she was stable on her own feet. “Goodnight, Belle.” He retrieved his clothes from the chair and left her.

* * *

Belle stared at the door long after it had closed behind him. What had just happened? Her mind struggled to reconcile the beast who’d torn apart her whole world, who’d ripped her away from everything she’d ever known and made her his prisoner, with the man who’d just embraced her with such tenderness.

She settled into the plush armchair. How was that man, who’d simply held her while she’d cried, the same man who’d just a half hour before, thrown her across his lap and spanked her?

Oh, but that spanking was a conundrum all its own. The feelings it had stirred in her were beyond confusing. Sure it was humiliating and had stung a bit, but it had stirred something within her, and when he’d touched her gently to soothe her skin, she’d nearly moaned. A part of her had desperately wanted more. Even now as she conjured it in her mind, warmth began to blossom low in her belly. What could it possibly mean?

And another thing, what had he meant when he’d said he was the owner of a gaming hell?

ChapterFour

She was startled out of her thoughts by a roar that echoed through the house. What in heaven’s name was that?

Shouts continued as she tiptoed toward her husband’s study. The door was open, and light crept out into the hall.

“I know what I said before, Jones! And I appreciate you trying to stop me, but none of that matters now. I gave it up all those years ago for her. I needed to be sober in order to create a decent life for her. Instead, all I’ve managed to do is make her miserable, so what is the point?” Agony strained his voice.

“Please, my lord, don’t do this.” His valet sounded desperate.

There was a deep sigh, followed by a long, tension filled silence.

“I’m sorry, Jones, but you have three minutes. If you’re not back here with a bottle of brandy, you know where the door is.” Her husband’s quiet voice sounded tired and almost broken, but there was a finality to the statement. For some reason it made her heart ache. She wanted to beg him not to do whatever it was he was about to do.

There was another long pause before Jones answered in a resigned voice. “Very well.”

“No.” The whispered word slipped out, and she pressed her fingertips against her lips.

The valet’s brow was deeply furrowed when he came through the doorway. He turned the opposite direction from her, but as soon as he could no longer be seen by her husband, he spun around to face her, a finger to his lips, his eyes a desperate plea. He shook his head slowly, then waved his fingers in a shooing motion, before pressing his palms together as if in prayer. She understood the silent message. Jones was begging her to return to her own room and not make her presence known to her husband. He had certainly known him longer than she had, so Belle trusted his judgment.

With a dejected sigh, she nodded her assent. Jones mouthed the words ‘thank you’ before hurrying off in the other direction.

Belle wasn’t dressed for bed, but a chill was spreading through her body from the inside out, so she curled into a ball on her bed and pulled the blankets over her head. Somehow, for the second time in a month, her whole world was shifting. Except this time, it was inside her heart and mind. It had never occurred to her that Lord Dalinridge might have sacrificed… well, anything, ever. Let alone that he may have sacrificed something for her. The truth was, she’d never really thought of him as just a man. To her, he was a powerful beast who had plotted to destroy her happiness and had taken her prisoner. But that certainly wasn’t what she’d seen tonight.

The man who had been in her bedroom was kind and patient, and the one she’d heard in his study had sounded desperate, lashing out like a wounded animal. What did that mean? Why was he begging and threatening his valet for brandy? Did they keep it hidden from him? None of this made any sense, but she was afraid that her belligerent unwillingness to bend may have created a storm that they were all going to have to weather. Tomorrow she would try to do better. If she wanted to get answers to any of her questions, she was going to have to talk to her husband.

When Belle entered the dining room the following morning, she was disappointed that he didn’t occupy his seat at the head of the table. She chose some fruit and a piece of toast from the sideboard. Her stomach wasn't feeling up to anything heavy, but she would sit and eat just in case he eventually appeared.

As the footman pulled out her chair, the events that had taken place there the previous day flashed through her mind. Her cheeks instantly warmed at the memory. Why could she not stop thinking about it? And more to the point, why did she, increasingly, want him to spank her again? She shook herself and sat down. It was nonsense. Surely, no person of sound mind would have a desire for such things.

* * *

Michael groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. His head throbbed and every muscle in his body ached. His mouth tasted as if he’d been licking the floor of a stable. Nearly half of his body hung off the sofa he’d apparently slept on, and when he looked over the side, there was a chamber pot filled with the explanation for the foul taste in his mouth. He didn’t even remember retching.

---