To Disappear (21 page)

Lydia stared at him in shock as a lump of emotion rose in her throat. She had lost track of the number of times she had wished for his approval, and now here he was bestowing it upon her after a particularly difficult scene. Tears filled her eyes again. She wanted to press her face against his broad chest and sob, but he still appeared too foreboding for such an emotional display. She swallowed hard, wishing he would never take his protective arm from her shoulders.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘I’ve so… thank you.’

Kruin nodded. ‘You are not required to stay at the party unless you want to. You may return to your room if you like.’

Relief rose in Lydia like a tidal wave. Although she still wanted to ask him for permission to assuage her sensual excitement, she couldn’t find the courage to ask, especially not after he had actually praised her performance.

‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll go.’ She left the room, feeling as if her soul had suddenly sprouted wings.

Lydia rested her head against the back of the overstuffed chair and gazed out the window. The sun had risen halfway over the horizon, creating a reddish-gold sheen over the gardens. The Chinese lanterns swayed in a gentle breeze as the delicate paper covers captured the morning light. Several articles of clothing lay strewn over the garden’s flagstone paths – a flimsy skirt, a man’s crumpled white shirt, a lacy piece of lingerie. Lydia thought they were like mementos of the previous evening’s libidinous activities.

She shifted, wincing as her sore bottom chafed against the chair. She had massaged a healing cream into her skin after returning to her room last night, then fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She had woken before dawn, taken a long hot shower, and had been sitting in the window chair for the last hour. Although she was still emotionally and physically exhausted, she was unable to sleep any longer. Her bottom continued to burn, but alone in the quiet of her room she didn’t mind the discomfort terribly much.

In fact, she was currently rather enjoying the stinging sensation caused by the pressure of the chair, for it reminded her that not only had she successfully endured Preston’s collective punishment, but that she’d done well enough to earn Kruin’s approval too, the thought made the welts on her bottom feel like medals of honor.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, breaking into her thoughts, and she unfolded herself from the plush chair by the window, tugging her bathrobe more closely around her body as she went to open it.

‘Good morning.’ Gabriel stood on the landing, his eyes brilliantly green in the light of the rising sun. He wore jeans and a blue, chambray shirt that looked deliciously soft and faded from many washes. ‘Your door was locked.’

‘Yes, I locked it last night.’

‘You’re never to lock your door here,’ Gabriel said, with a hint of steel as he entered the room. ‘You should know that by now.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized. ‘With so many people in the house, I was nervous.’

‘Don’t do it again.’

‘No, I won’t.’

Gabriel went to the closet and removed a floral cotton dress, which he tossed onto the bed. ‘So did you enjoy yourself last night?’

‘Not particularly.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘Not even the slightest bit?’

Lydia thought of Kruin. ‘Well, there was some good to it, but overall, I found it quite unpleasant.’ She couldn’t prevent herself from adding, ‘I’m sure you don’t feel the same way, though.’

He didn’t respond, gesturing for her to remove her robe and dress. Lydia obeyed, appreciating the looseness of the lightweight material all the more after her confining costume last night.

‘So how did you spend your evening?’ Gabriel asked.

She shrugged and went to the dressing table. ‘Conversing, a bit of dancing, although that dress and corset made it difficult to move. I tried some of the food. And of course Preston subjected me to one of his little scenarios. In front of a group of people, no less.’

Gabriel frowned slightly. ‘What did he do?’

Lydia grasped the folds of her dress and pulled it up over her hips to show him her bruised buttocks. Despite the delivery by several different people, the pattern of welts was lovely and uniform, each red mark spread evenly across her cheeks and modulated by the stripes of her pale skin.

At any other time she would have been hesitant and shy about revealing the evidence of her punishment to him, but this morning she wanted him to see what she had endured while he’d been so engrossed with his willing Cleopatra.

Gabriel looked at her welts for a moment without response, and then Lydia let the dress fall again to cover herself. She reached for her brush and began stroking it through her hair.

‘Kruin was there,’ she remarked. ‘Didn’t he tell you what happened?’

‘I haven’t seen him yet,’ Gabriel said. ‘How did you do?’

‘It hurt like hell. But I did everything right. Even Kruin said I did well.’

‘Really?’ He appeared rather impressed. ‘High praise, indeed.’

Lydia smiled slightly at the memory. ‘I thought so, too.’

He looked as if he wanted to ask her more about the incident, but then he merely nodded towards her sandals. ‘If you’re ready, breakfast is waiting.’

Lydia slipped into her comfortable, strappy footwear and followed him downstairs. The scents of crisp bacon, rich coffee and buttery croissants drifted from the kitchen, causing her stomach to rumble with hungry anticipation. But she stopped on the stairs when she heard unfamiliar voices emerging from the solarium. Gabriel turned to look at her.

‘Who is that?’ she asked.

‘Just a few of the guests from last night.’

‘What?’ Lydia stared at him in shock, her hand going to her throat.

‘Don’t worry,’ Gabriel said reassuringly. ‘They aren’t wearing masks, but believe me when I tell you they’re more worried about you knowing who they are than the other way around. None of them have any idea who you are.’

‘Gabriel, I can’t—’

‘Yes, you can,’ he interrupted. ‘And you will. After what you went through last night, you hardly have a reason to hesitate now. I imagine this is mild by comparison.’

‘Gabriel, nothing about this situation is mild,’ she said.

‘I know, but you’ve been handling it quite well so far, and you’ll continue to do so.’

He held out his hand, Lydia drew in a deep breath, and somewhat reassured by his words she slipped her fingers into his.

Six guests were gathered in the dining room, four men and two women who wore luxurious silken robes. They sat around the table in languid comfort, sipping dark, fragrant coffee and filling their plates from dishes set out on the sideboard.

There were platters of flaky pastries and bowls of juicy fruit – fat strawberries, cherries, and blueberries, savory melon slices, chunks of sweet pineapple. Crystal carafes of freshly squeezed orange juice were lined up, heated platters of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and thick, buttered toast rested beside them, along with dishes of crunchy granola and creamy yogurt.

Lydia stopped in the doorway. Preston and Kruin were eating at their usual places, and they both gave her brief nods of welcome. She saw Helen, divested of her Cleopatra costume and accoutrements. The folds of her robe were parted to reveal her cleavage, and she gave Lydia a smile that seemed to indicate more than a simple greeting.

Lydia wondered with another stab of jealousy if Helen had spent the entire night with Gabriel, but dismissing the thought she turned her attention to a man who was helping himself to a generous serving of eggs. His back was to her, but she recognized him immediately.

When he turned and saw her standing there, Wallace gave her an inscrutable smile. He wore a cotton robe that was barely closed by a straining cotton belt, revealing his plump, hairy stomach and skinny legs. She also caught an unfortunate glimpse of his limp penis dangling between his thighs.

‘Well, good morning, Lydia,’ Wallace said as he settled at the table. ‘You’re a pleasant sight to start the day.’

You’re not, Lydia wanted to retort, but suppressed the words just in time. Instead she muttered a greeting in return, including the other guests in her words as she went to pour herself a cup of coffee. She filled her plate with food and sat down next to Gabriel, trying not to wince as discomfort stabbed her caned flesh. To her relief none of the guests were paying either her or each other much attention, as they were engrossed either in their food or reading a newspaper. Furthermore, they all appeared rather exhausted from the previous night’s activities.

‘So Lydia, how are you this morning?’ Preston asked, pushing aside a section of the newspaper he was reading.

‘Fine, thank you,’ she answered.

‘And your luscious backside?’

Lydia blushed. ‘Sore,’ she said.

‘Hm, the cane has quite a different sensation, doesn’t it?’

Wallace, who was sitting diagonally from Lydia, glanced up from his plate with an intrigued expression. ‘When was she caned?’ he asked.

‘Last night,’ Preston explained. ‘We had a little display in the drawing room. Lydia has misbehaved in the past and required punishment.’

‘Why wasn’t I told of this?’ Wallace asked rather petulantly. ‘I’d have liked to see that.’

‘Perhaps you still will,’ Preston replied, giving Lydia a salacious wink.

Unease rose in her throat; surely he wouldn’t make such an exhibition of her again, and then she was relieved when Kruin spoke.

‘Not for some time, however,’ the big man said, and Preston looked as if he were about to protest, but a sharp glance from Gabriel made him close his mouth irritably. Lydia sent silent thanks to both Gabriel and Kruin.

‘Then how are we to entertain our guests this morning?’ Preston asked.

‘You can watch someone else,’ Helen suggested. She smiled at Lydia, her eyes sparking with a hint of excitement. ‘After all, Lydia isn’t the only one here who’s been naughty.’

Lydia glanced at Gabriel; he didn’t react at all to Helen’s comment, but Wallace gave a deep laugh.

‘My guess is that Lydia isn’t naughty on purpose, though,’ he said. ‘Unlike some people.’

Helen turned her smile on the older man. ‘How are you with a cane, Wallace?’ she asked.

‘Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll find out.’

‘I’ll look forward to that.’

‘And what about Lydia?’ Wallace remarked, turning his attention back to her. ‘Do you want to find out too?’

‘No, thank you,’ Lydia said shortly. She bit into a croissant and wished the old lecher would leave her alone the way the other male guests were doing.

‘You were right about her, Preston,’ Wallace said, his expression darkening slightly. ‘Not very friendly at all.’

‘Well, bear in mind that friendliness is hardly a prerequisite,’ Preston replied mildly. ‘And frankly, Lydia would be far less interesting if she were entirely gregarious and accommodating.’

‘Still, a measure of sociability is necessary,’ Wallace continued, his watery eyes never leaving her. ‘As is the knowledge that pain should be inflicted only at certain times.’

Lydia recognized that he was referring to her kneeing him in the groin, and met his gaze with a level one of her own. ‘Or when it’s deserved,’ she said.

He frowned, but didn’t respond. Lydia glanced to the end of the table, where a statuesque blonde woman was eyeing one of the men. She plucked a cherry from a bowl and slipped it between her ruby lips before leaning over to kiss him. The moistened cherry passed from her mouth into his, just as he began parting the folds of her robe to reveal her breasts.

Embarrassment rose in Lydia as it became clear that the lustful atmosphere of the previous night had extended to the morning. She looked down at her plate, wondering if she could excuse herself, but she still had no idea when it was appropriate for her to state her wishes.

‘So your punishment was deserved, was it?’ Wallace asked.

Lydia glanced back at him. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Last night. If pain should be dispensed when it’s deserved, then the pain of your caning must have been well deserved. What did you do to deserve it, Lydia?’

‘None of your business,’ she replied tartly, earning herself a glare from Kruin and a terse ‘Lydia!’ from Preston.

She blushed at being reprimanded in front of the guests, feeling several of them glance curiously at her. She didn’t care if they knew about her role in the house, which was all too evident, but she hoped none of them would recognize her from somewhere.

‘Go on, my dear,’ Preston urged. ‘Tell Wallace what you did.’

She thought briefly of telling Preston what Wallace had done to her, but she suspected it wouldn’t make a difference.

‘I slapped Preston,’ she finally said.

‘And?’ Preston asked.

She looked at him in confusion. ‘And?’

‘How else have you disobeyed us?’

Her blush of embarrassment deepened as she realized what he wanted her to confess, and her mind worked frantically trying to think of a way to phrase it with a minimum of humiliation. ‘I… I’ve succumbed to an orgasm.’

‘Rather uncontrollably, I might add,’ Preston said. ‘She comes like a cat in heat, entirely unable to control her pleasure.’

Lydia knew her cheeks were burnt crimson, and anger simmered at Preston’s continuing need to shame her, even though he had proven his authority time and time again. And after last night, she thought she deserved a small reprieve.

‘That must make it a joy to discipline her,’ Wallace mused.

‘It does,’ Gabriel agreed, giving her a smile before he took his plate and returned to the buffet.

Wallace stood and walked around the table, stopping right beside Lydia’s chair. Something feral lit in his pale eyes. ‘What kind of cane did you use on her?’ he asked Preston.

‘Rattan,’ Preston replied. ‘I prefer natural materials. And Lydia’s bottom is wonderful. It fairly springs back with each strike.’

‘Show me the welts,’ Wallace ordered.

Lydia disliked his expression. It was somehow vengeful, as if he wanted to retaliate for the way she had treated him. Her hand trembled as she took another sip of coffee, hoping that one of the other men might come to her rescue.