Page 61 of Desire and Discipline
What is happening?
Samuel blinked in confusion, hanging back behind the gentlemen he’d followed in, so Catherine did not see him immediately. Which had not been his original plan. He’d wanted her to see him, to know he was there, to be aware of his presence… but now, he wanted to know what was going on. This was not what he’d expected to see. A small, niggling suspicion stirred in his chest—one he was not yet ready to acknowledge.
She was entirely focused on Kent, as if the audience was not present.
“Your Grace, would you like to tell everyone what you’re doing here this evening?” Her voice lilted up at the end, as though it was a question, but her tone made it more of a command.
The man sighed heavily and lifted his head. Grief and guilt etched the man’s face, making it clear why his bearing was so heavy.
“I was supposed to be on that trip. I should not be here right now.” No one needed to ask what trip he meant. “I was supposed to be… there.”
Dead. He meant that he was supposed to be dead.
Catherine shook her head.
“You are exactly where you are supposed to be,” she said gently but firmly.
“But if I’d been there, maybe I could have prevented…” He wrung his hands in front of him.
“Or you would be dead, too. We have no way of knowing what happened.” Still gentle but even firmer in her tone. Rumors were running rife through theton,but nothing had been confirmed. The Crown had announced it was investigating, of course, but so far, there had been no official announcements or conclusions, which meant the theories became wilder with every passing day.
“I just need to feel something.” The fervor with which he said the words struck something in Samuel’s soul. He could practically feel the emotions emanating from the grieving man, the desire to scream and cry and the utter inability to do so.
It was how Samuel had felt when Catherine chose to bow to her parents’ wishes.
“Now that, I can certainly help with,” Catherine said, reaching out to rub the man’s shoulder. A small dart of jealousy struck Samuel, but considering the man’s emotional state he could hardly begrudge him the offered comfort. “Hands on the desk.”
Kent moved forward, bending at the waist to place his hands on the desk that was just off to the side of where he and Catherine were standing. The suspicion in Samuel’s chest was growing and blooming as he watched, making him feel increasingly uneasy.
He knew where this was going.
He just could not believe it.
But he could not deny what he was seeing when Catherine got into place behind Kent and lifted the tawse, swinging it to land across Kent’s buttocks.
The sound of leather against Kent cracked through the room, making Samuel’s body jerk at the impact, as if he was the one receiving it.
Kent groaned, the sound caught somewhere between pained and relieved. As if it hurt him, but he was also getting exactly what he needed. Catherine paused for a moment, reaching out to run her hand over his lower back. Her expression was one of both concern and confidence, and something about the entire scene caused something new to stir inside Samuel. Something he had never felt before, and he was not sure what to call it.
Then she stepped back, and the tawse came down again.
And again.
And again.
Kent groaned each time, panting between the blows, hanging his head until he finally cried out and began to actually cry. A murmur went through the audience, full of sympathy and concern. Catherine paused again, stepping forward and putting her hand on Kent’s lower back, bending down to his face.
They exchanged some words, far too low for Samuel to hear. Some of those closest to them might have been able to discern what was being said, but if they did, none of their expressions changed. After a moment, Catherine nodded and stepped back. Lifted the tawse again.
One of the gentlemen in front of Samuel sighed, leaning toward his compatriot. Despite their low tones, he was close enough to overhear their conversation again.
“She is so good.” The man sighed again, a heartfelt expression of longing and regret. “I was hoping to engage her this evening.”
“Kent needs it more.”
“I know. Perhaps next time.”
Their words confirmed the suspicion that had bloomed in Samuel, making his heart sink. This was not a one-time thing for Catherine. She was not looking for a man to put her over his knee for discipline. Or for punishment. She was the one who meted it out.
