Chapter 4


"My lady, no, please not the stocks again!" gasped Lord
Walter, struggling as he was led away by two of the Scully
family's largest servants.

"Walter, you struck a guest!" Maggie scolded as her daughter
bent over Lady Fowley.  "Such behavior can hardly go
unpunished!"

"But--"

"Not another word," Maggie said firmly.  "Away with you
both.  Dana and I will tend to you after we've seen to our
guests."

Fox submitted numbly as his arm was taken by one of the
largest of the female servants and he was escorted to the
back courtyard along with Walter.  He shuddered as they
approached the stocks, the new wood of the restraint Dana
had ordered built especially for him gleaming in the starlight.
Walter's more familiar, more used stocks were
weather-roughened and worn, but still secure, and Fox
watched as the servant escorting Walter placed his head and
arms in the proper spaces, Walter offering no resistance.
He shuddered as the heavy piece of wood came down, trapping
Walter in the device, and the sound of the lock clicking
shut almost made him faint in terror.  Briefly, he debated
shaking off the arm that held him and making a run for his
freedom, but common sense told him what a foolish endeavor
that would be.  He couldn't escape, he would only be dragged
back here, and then his punishment would be compounded.
Very likely he would be whipped for his defiance, and the
thought of being brutally punished in front of Lady Fowley
was enough to make him swallow his fear and stand his
ground.

The stocks stood side by side, and once Walter had been
securely locked in the other device, the servant moved to the
new one and lifted the top.  The iron hinges squealed as the
were forced to work for the first time since their
installation, and Fox winced at the sound.

How long would the Ladies make them stand here, helpless and
at the mercy of any who might come to take their merriment,
before releasing them, and what type of punishment awaited
at the end of this evening, which suddenly stretched out
endless before him.  And why, Fox thought rebelliously, were
he and Walter being punished at all?  They had done nothing
wrong.  Walter had merely attempted to assist Fox when he
had been cornered by someone bent upon doing him harm.  It
wasn't fair that they should suffer while the Lady in
question went her merry way, but it was the way of an unfair
world that she should do so.

Once the heavy board had come down over his neck and wrists,
Fox experimentally tried to tug his hand through the opening
and found that it wouldn't budge.  It was clear to him that
an evil woman had designed these stocks, she had done her
job admirably well.

The servants disappeared back inside the mansion, and the
two hapless men were left alone.

"Great," Walter grumbled.  "Thanks a lot, Fox.  I spent
hours here yesterday, and now it looks as if I'll be
sleeping on my feet."

"At least you're not naked this time, Walter," Fox pointed
out, but Walter didn't seem comforted by this thought.

"Not yet," he returned.  "But wait until the servants have
a break in their duties."

At Fox's shudder, Walter pressed on.  "You've never been in
this position before, have you?"

Fox shook his head.  "We didn't have these torture devices
at the Mulder estate," he said proudly.

Walter ignored the boy's youthful ignorance.  "Well we had
them at the Skinner estate, and Lady Sharon was quite fond
of using them if she felt the occasion warranted.  She was
never one to punish me in anger, and so she would often lock
me in the stocks for hours on end whilst she debated the
most appropriate way to make me pay for my sins."

"Has--has Lady Maggie done this to you often?"

"On occasion," Walter said quietly, "although Lady Maggie is
more apt to simply beat me and get the punishment over."

Fox squirmed again, uselessly striving for his freedom, and
Walter smiled.

"You'll only hurt yourself, my boy," he advised.  "Best not
to struggle against it--the wood is strong and the locks are
secure."

"It isn't fair!" Fox burst out.  "Why are they doing this to
us?  Lady Dana didn't even take the time to hear our
reasons--she doesn't even know what Lady Fowley was
planning--"

"They had no choice, lad," Walter interrupted before Fox
could get himself worked into a real anger.  "We injured a
Lady of the nobility, and we did it in front of all the
guests.  If we had not been immediately dealt with, the word
would have spread throughout the land by morning that the
Scully women have no control of their men. They would be
ruined socially, and their patients would lose confidence in
their ability to heal."

"You injured a Lady of the nobility," Fox reminded him.

"And saved your pretty hide!"

"Perhaps," Fox admitted grudgingly, "but I still feel this
is unwarranted.  I saw how the servants treated you
yesterday while you were trapped here."  He stopped,
suddenly realizing that there was nobody around to protect
them, should any servant or guest make her way to the back
courtyard and attempt to take her pleasure with them.

Walter saw his consternation and sighed.  "I know how you
feel, Fox," he said gently.  "But the servants know how far
is *too* far, and they won't cross that line.  You won't
care for what they do to you, because you are still young
and quite innocent, despite your recent marriage, but your
virtue will remain intact, I promise you that."

"How far *is* too far?" he demanded desperately.

"You will not spill your seed," Walter told him quietly.
"All else is permitted."

Fox bit back a groan, knowing how torturous it could be when
Dana teased his manhood and refused to allow him his
release.  Would it be like that all evening, then?  Parties
such as the one going on inside could last for hours, as he
well knew, and it had only begun.

"I'd rather just be whipped," he muttered at the ground.
"Wouldn't you?"

"Lady Maggie isn't going to whip me for this," Walter
responded serenely.

"How do you know?"

"Because," the older man told him with a sidelong look,
"Lady Maggie never lets circumstances delay her in
delivering a punishment.  Had she intended to whip me, it
would be occurring even as we speak."

"But maybe later she'll--"

"I have no doubt that she'll allow the guests to believe
that.  They will feel that a harsh punishment is warranted,
and Lady Maggie will send them all away tonight with the
assurance that it shall be meted out immediately upon their
departure.  Then she will release me and take me to her
bed.  I might suffer some mild form of punishment, for I did
steal the key from her pocket, but it will not be severe.
Lady Maggie never punishes me without hearing my side of a
story first.  Does your Lady Dana?" he asked curiously.

"I--I don't know," Fox told him.  "There hasn't been an
occasion for her to hear my side of a story yet--she's
always been present and seen my disobedience for herself."

Walter chuckled.  "I believe Maggie has raised the girl
well--do not be afraid, Fox.  I doubt she will be overly
harsh with you."

They fell silent, and inside, the guests continued to party
and dance, the two misbehaving husbands soon forgotten in
the merriment.  The servants in the kitchen had imbibed
their share of wine, and as Walter had warned, and the night
grew late, several of them wandered outside in search of
cooler air. The two Lord Scullys were captive to their
amusement.

"Ooh, lookee here, Sarah," cooed one of the scullery maids,
her breath reeking of wine as she leaned close to Walter.
"Here's two naughty men caught in the act."  Walter winced
and turned his head away, but she grabbed his face and
planted a wet kiss upon his lips.

"And fine looking men they are, too," answered the one
called Sarah, sidling up behind Fox and caressing his bottom
with her hands.

He gasped as the wool of his trousers rubbed against his
still sore buttocks, and tried to twist away from her, but
there was nowhere he could go.

"Leave us alone," Walter commanded in his best
Lord-of-the-Manor voice, once the maid had released his
lips, but the women only laughed.

"Now why would My Lady leave you here, if she didn't intend
us to take our fun with you?" the first woman asked saucily
She ducked beneath the stocks and sidled around behind
Walter, slipping her hands around his waist to grope at his
sex.  He tried to elude her, but like Fox, was trapped and
at her mercy.

Fox, meanwhile, had attracted the attention of several more
of the servants who had made their way outside.  Ignoring
his protests, Sarah unfastened his pants and peeled them down
his legs.  Soon Fox found himself the subject of much
unwanted attention.

"Stop that!" he moaned as one of the women caressed his bare
manhood, bringing it to reluctant arousal.  "Let me go!"

"Now my lord Fox, we'll not hurt ye," Sarah assured him.
"It's part of the punishment of being in the stocks, to have
the servants play with your body.  And such a pretty body it
is, too," she giggled, sliding her hands beneath his shirt
to caress his nipples.

Fox was nearly incoherent with embarrassment.  He had been
fondled by servants during his lifetime, naturally--all men
endured that, whether servants or of the nobility--but to be
held helpless while three of them took their pleasure in
caressing his most intimate parts...it was too much to bear.

"Get away from me!" he screeched, kicking out in a desperate
attempt to dislodge the female who was kissing her way up
his bare inner thigh.  "Lady Dana will be furious!"

Another of the servants, one Fox knew as Melinda, gave a
musical laugh before engulfing his sex in her mouth.
Involuntarily, he arched toward her, feeling the tears begin
to course down his cheeks.  Melinda had him in her mouth,
Sarah was fondling his buttocks, and the servant who had
been kissing his legs now was busily unfastening his shirt.
'At least you're not naked,' he had told Walter, but he was
wrong.  He glanced over to see that Walter was in as
humiliating a predicament as himself, his breeches
completely removed and his shirt open to reveal his entire
chest.  Walter had been caressed to a state of arousal as
well, and one of the women leaned against his back, pressing
herself into his buttocks while she stroked his sex slowly,
up and down, her fingers circling the tip with each
movement.

Walter seemed resigned to their fate, but poor Fox, having
been so recently relieved of his virginity, was near
catatonic with the humiliation of it all, when to his
relief, his wife's voice rang out across the yard.

"Away from him, you wenches.  Can't you see my poor Lord is
horribly embarrassed?  Leave him be.  He isn't to be subject
to your randy attentions tonight."

There was no anger in Dana's voice, only amusement, a fact
which was not lost on Fox.  She came to stand before her
errant husband, a stern expression on her face.  Fox stood
before her helplessly, his head and arms locked in the
stocks and his breeches down around his ankles, his face a
mask of humiliated rage.  Dana suspected he had never been
in such a position in his entire life.

Anger warred with embarrassment within him, and at last, in
spite of Walter's whispered asides to him to shut up, anger
won out.

"Let me out of here!" he demanded of his wife, who merely
cocked her head to one side and allowed him to speak his
piece.  "What kind of wife are you, to have her husband on
display before the servants?    Have you no respect for me
at all?  They were *touching* me, Dana!  You promised me
nobody but you would touch me tonight, and now here I am,
locked in these damn stocks for the amusement of every
serving wench in your employ!"

"Stop right there," she commanded softly, and Fox did,
suddenly realizing he'd been yelling at his lady in front of
all the servants and more than a few party guests who had
come to see what all the commotion was about.

"First of all," she reminded him coldly, "you are my
husband, and I can do as I please with you.  If I choose to
strip you naked and parade you through the streets of the
village, I will do so, and there is none who will naysay
me."

Fox closed his eyes in agony and shuddered at the image of
himself being walked through the streets of the village
where he had lived his entire life, naked and humiliated,
hearing the taunts and jeers of the many women who would be
watching.

"Secondly," Dana continued, "you are correct.  I did promise
you nobody would touch you, but that was before you were
instrumental in giving one of our guests a concussion!  Poor
Lady Fowley is still stunned."

"My Lady," Walter interrupted quickly, "I can explain--"

"Save your explanations for my mother, Walter.  I do believe
she has a horse whip with your name on it."

Walter blanched, but said nothing more.  Lady Maggie had
never been so cruel as to whip him with anything more harsh
than a switch, and despite his assurances to Fox that Maggie
believed in prompt punishment, he was uncertain..  She must
be very, very angry with him.  He only prayed she would
allow him to tell her what had happened before she whipped
the skin off his back.

"So--what have you to say for yourself?" Dana asked,
stepping closer to Fox and awaiting his answer.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, sniffing back a few
tears.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he told her contritely.  "I didn't strike
Lady Fowley, but Walter was only trying to help me.  It was
my fault."

"How was it your fault?" asked Lady Maggie, who had
approached silently while Dana was speaking.  "What did you
do to entice Lady Fowley, Fox?"

"I--I--entice, my lady?"  Fox was clearly confused, and Dana
could see that he had no idea of what her mother was
speaking.

"I doubt Fox enticed her intentionally, Mother," she cut in.
"He's so beautiful, women are just naturally attracted to
him.  It's no wonder Lady Fowley lost control of herself.  A
woman can't be expected to keep her lust in reign with a
man as beautiful as Fox in the vicinity."

Fox ground his teeth together, but said nothing.  As if it
was his fault that women considered him beautiful!  Given
the choice, he'd plant a huge wart right on the tip of his
nose just to avoid any further, unwanted attentions.
Besides, he wasn't beautiful anyway.  Women were blind, that
was all.

"I must agree with you, my dear," Maggie replied.  "Perhaps
in the future, you should be more careful with the clothing
you allow Fox to wear.  It might save him a good deal of
grief.  And now you," she continued, turning to her own
husband.  "I would hear your story now."

Earnestly, Walter explained that he'd seen Lady Fowley enter
the library after Dana had left Fox alone there, had
suspected the woman's motives were less than honorable, and
had slipped the skeleton key out of his wife's pocket while
she was distracted, discussing business with another doctor
friend.

"Did it never occur to you to simply call the situation to
my attention, or to Dana's?" Maggie scolded.  "We are both
perfectly capable of taking care of our men."

"I tried, but you were too busy to listen!"

"You will address me in a tone of respect!" she thundered,
and her husband moderated his speech immediately.

"I am sorry, my lady," Walter answered, head hung low.  "I
know you will take care of us.  I simply didn't think--I
knew Lady Fowley had her eye on Fox, and that she would take
liberties with him if he was left unprotected, and you and
Lady Dana were so busy with your important conversations--I
thought it best not to trouble you for such a trivial
matter."

"I see.  Well, boys, I think for now, the two of you will
stay right here.  You're not likely to get into any more
trouble that way.  Sarah--replace his clothing, and all of
you ladies leave the men alone.  Walter, Fox--Dana and I
will be back to tell you what we have decided after the last
of our guests have departed."

Maggie strode toward the house, and Walter heaved a huge
sigh of relief.  Apparently he'd been correct in his first
assumption--she wasn't going to whip him after all, for if
that had been her intention, he had no doubt that he would
be in the midst of his punishment right now.

Dana waited until the party guests had followed her mother
back inside, then stepped closer to Fox, stroking his hair.

"Are you all right, sweeting?" she asked, planting a soft
kiss on his lips.

He sniffed again, and she wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Dana, I didn't mean to cause you so much
trouble," he quavered.

"I know you didn't, Fox. You're still so innocent, you
simply didn't realize what might happen.  I'll have to teach
you all about the ways of women, so that you can avoid
situations like this one in the future."

"Yes ma'am," he whispered dejectedly.

"I'll be back later.  Be good, boys," she called as she
disappeared into the house.

"Now what?" Fox asked when they were alone.

"Well, I don't know what Lady Dana has in store for you, but
I do believe I'm in for some pleasure tonight."

Fox turned his head to stare at Walter in amazement.
"Pleasure?" he asked in a disbelieving voice.  "Lady Maggie
punishes you with pleasure?"

Walter smiled mysteriously.  "Sometimes she does, my boy.
Sometimes she does, but tonight will simply be pleasure--no
punishment."

Walter didn't seem inclined to explain further, so Fox let
the matter drop.  After a while, though, he grew bored, and
decided to ask Walter a question that had been bothering
him.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?" asked Walter, almost asleep on his feet.

"Did it ever really hurt you?"

Walter was jolted awake by the oddness of the question. "Did
what ever hurt?" he evaded.

Fox blushed in the darkness.  "You know..." he said at last.

Walter gave a small laugh.  "No, it never hurt.  That's a
lie, I think, that fathers tell their sons."

"I won't tell mine that," Fox said positively, and Walter
smiled.  Fox would do anything he had to do in order to keep
his sons pure until their marriages.  All men did.

"It wasn't always as pleasant as it is with Lady Maggie,
though," Walter continued.  "She's a very experienced lover,
and she knows exactly how to please a man."

"But...I though men were supposed to please women!" Fox
objected.

"Oh, we are, Fox.  It's our primary function, in addition to
giving a woman a daughter to whom she may pass on her name
and lands. But a man can gain pleasure as well.  Haven't you
felt pleasure when Lady Dana has taken you?"

Fox was simply too embarrassed to respond, but Walter
understood.

"I see you have," he smirked.

"But you said Lady Maggie would punish you with pleasure--I
don't understand..."

"In that case, I'll ask Maggie to have a talk with Lady
Dana.  It's certainly something every man should
experience."

"No, don't!" Fox pleaded, panicked, but Walter had a gleam
in his eye that told Fox he would be learning all about
punishment by pleasure, and much sooner than he wished.

-----

At last, when the moon was dipping low in the sky and
daylight surely could not be many hours away, the Ladies
returned to the rear courtyard to confront the men.

Walter had fallen asleep, slumped against the large bracing
pole that was the stocks' main support, but Fox had been too
nervous to allow himself that escape.  He had been terrified
that the servants would return, unbeknownst to his lady, and
every time a screech of laughter had emanated from the
kitchen he had shuddered.  The servants were growing more
intoxicated, as were the guests.

Finally, though, Fox had been able to discern the welcome
sound of carriages departing and guests taking their leave,
and after an eternity of this, the rear door opened and two
shapes approached.

"My--my lady?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Fox, it is I," she answered, patting his face
soothingly.  "Have you been molested again?"

"No ma'am," he whispered, watching as she released the lock
that held him trapped.

"Good," she told him with satisfaction, and helped him
straighten up, mindful of the ache in his back and legs, for
he had been standing here for hours.

"Wake up, Walter," Maggie murmured, and her husband opened
sleepy eyes to find that he was freed at last.

"Maggie?"

"Come with me, dear," she said gently, placing his arm
around her shoulders and helping him gain his balance.
"Let's get you both to bed."

Fox followed Dana to their chamber, moving slowly, mindful
of his sore muscles, and when they arrived he sank
gratefully to the bed.

"We need to get you undressed," Dana said, tugging at the
hated boots, and Fox closed his eyes wearily.

"Can't I just sleep in my clothes?" he begged, reveling in
the softness of the coverlet.

"I want you naked, my dear," she told him wickedly, and he
groaned.

"Do you not desire me?" she asked, sliding his breeches down
his legs and discarding them carelessly.  "Has my husband
grown tired of my lovemaking already?"

"Not tired of...that," he whispered, still too shy to say
the word.  "Just tired."

"Poor sweet--it has been a long night for you.  I have a
special treat for you, though, if you can awaken long enough
to enjoy it."

Fox opened one eye, his innate curiosity refusing to allow
him to slip into the slumber for which his body longed.

"A treat, my lady?"  He watched as she removed his shirt,
then stood at the foot of the bed and stripped off her own
clothing.  He had to admit, no matter how shy he might be
about seeing her unclothed, that his wife was lovely.  He
felt a stirring between his legs and sighed.  He wondered
briefly if he could plead a headache and be allowed to go to
sleep, but if his lady wished him to pleasure her tonight,
it was no more than his duty.  Besides...her talk of a treat
for him was intriguing.

"Yes, Fox," Dana told him, climbing into bed beside him and
dousing the lantern.  "Tonight I will show you a new way in
which we can both gain much pleasure."

His sex twitched in response to her words, and he knew that
going to sleep now was out of the question.  He must needs
learn more of this new method of pleasure of which she
spoke.

"What do you wish, my lady?"

Dana turned on her side and gently stroked his face,
admiring the way the moonlight through the window fell on
his skin, turning it a deep honey color, his eyes dark pools
in the depths of their shadow.

"I wish to lie on my back tonight."

Fox was confused.  "To lie on your back--to sleep?"

She shook her head.

"You mean...while we...?"

"Yes."

He hesitated for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was
aghast.  "Do you mean that you wish for me to be...*atop*
you, my lady?"

"Yes."

"But..but...my weight may be too much for you," he
sputtered, anxiously casting around his mind for an excuse,
for surely what she was suggesting was highly improper.

Dana laughed.  "Fox, I am a woman, and you are only a man.
You will not hurt me, I promise you.  Now come, do as I
say."

She tugged at his arm, pulling him into the position she
desired, and he could feel his face turning red even in the
darkness.

"This doesn't seem...it isn't quite...natural," he
stammered, and she laughed again as she positioned his
manhood above her woman's sex.

"It's quite natural, I assure you," she whispered fiercely
as she grasped his buttocks and thrust him quickly inside
her.

"Oh...oh my," he breathed, moving back and forth at her
urging, quickly learning the rhythm she wished and doing his
best to please her.

He felt such a feeling of...of *power* in this position, he
realized, marveling at how small her body was beneath his.

"Do you like that, my lady?" he asked in a teasing voice,
stopping his movement without warning.  "Shall I continue?"

"Continue, or I will punish you in ways which you cannot
imagine," she hissed, but he pinned her body to the bed with
his larger one and laughed softly.

"Fox, I am warning you," she said through clenched teeth.
"You have no idea at what you are playing."

"I know that I am in control of you, my lady," he laughed,
nibbling at her ear, lapping at her with his tongue.  "For
the first time ever.  I do appreciate this treat you gave
me."

He moved his hips slowly, tormenting her with the movements,
forcing her to reach her fulfillment slowly until at last
she threw back her head and emitted that animal sound that
he had come to love.  She tightened her legs around his
hips, pulling him tightly into her, and soon he followed her
into ecstasy, screaming out his man's release before
collapsing, panting, on top of her.

"Did you enjoy that, my sweet?" she asked, kissing the top
of his head.

"Oh yes, my lady," he gasped when he'd recovered
sufficiently.  "It was simply marvelous.   Thank you."

"Don't thank me too soon," she said mysteriously, and turned
on her side, pulling him into her arms to her preferred
sleeping position.

"What do you mean?" he asked, raising his head to look at
her with wide eyes.  "You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Oh no, Fox, not angry," she answered softly, but her lips
curved in a smile as he settled back against her chest.

'Just you wait until morning, my shy Fox,' she thought
wickedly.  'You will learn never to trifle with me.'

-----

Fox awakened in the morning and stretched--at least he tried
to stretch.  He quickly discovered that his arms and legs
were bound tightly to the bedposts, as they'd been the
morning after their wedding.

"Dana?" he asked, raising his head the few inches that were
allowed.  She was just rising from the bath, and he flushed
when he realized that he must have been in this very
position when the servants brought the bathwater.

"Don't worry, darling," she said, amused, reading his
thoughts.  "I covered you."

She approached him, carrying the soap and a wet washing
cloth, a drying towel slung over her shoulder.

"What--what are you doing?" he demanded, tugging furiously
at the knots that held him captive.

"Why, I'm washing you," she said innocently, soaping the
cloth and scrubbing at his face and neck.  "I want you to be
clean for your punishment."

"My punishment?  What have I--oh," he finished softly.

She looked directly into his beautiful eyes, green in the
morning sunlight.

"You will never, *never* attempt to control me again, Fox,
is that understood?"

"Uh...yes, ma'am," he said, watching her hands as they crept
lower and lower with the cloth.  She washed every part of
his body except his sex, and by the time she finally stroked
over it with the now cooling cloth, he was writhing.  He
gasped when the cold cloth touched his hardening manhood and
she laughed.

"Oh, Fox, it's just beginning," she said, and he swallowed
hard at the gleam in her eyes.

"What are you going to do to me?" he managed as she quickly
rubbed him dry.

"A trick my mother taught me," she replied.  She rose from
the bed and deposited the towel and washing cloth beside the
tub, then pulled on her robe.  Reaching up, she pulled the
bell to summon the servants, and then pulled the coverlet
over his naked form.

"It's called 'punishment by pleasure,' she whispered in an
evil tone, leaning close to his ear, and was rewarded with a
shiver from her still-so-innocent husband.

The servants arrived almost immediately, removing all traces
of their bath, and Fox felt a chill invade him when she
ordered them not to disturb her before lunchtime.  She
twisted the key in the lock and turned back to him, a
predatory smile upon her face.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he bargained desperately, but he was much
too late to save himself.  As she approached the bed again,
she slowly, so slowly it was killing him, slipped the robe
down her lovely shoulders, revealing her breasts inch by
luscious inch, until at last she allowed the maroon silk to
puddle to the floor, leaving her completely naked before
him.

His manhood, which had lost a bit of its enthusiasm while
the servants were in attendance, rose to attention again,
and he tugged at the scarves with which she'd tied him.
Warily, Fox watched as Dana approached her dressing table
and opened a drawer.  She withdrew a long piece of narrow
blue ribbon, and he wondered, as she climbed up beside him
on the big bed, what she could possibly plan to do with that
scrap.  He soon found out, to his chagrin, just exactly what
her plan involved.

Dana slipped the ribbon beneath his waist, drawing it up on
either side of his belly.  She tied it around his waist,
leaving one long end and one short, then she took the long
end and wound it firmly around the base of his rod.  He
stared down at her hands in disbelief as she wound the
ribbon around his sac, around his manhood twice more, then
drew the long end up and tied it to the ribbon at his waist.

He shifted and felt the tugging in his most private of
parts.  It didn't hurt--in fact, it wasn't really even
uncomfortable--but he was quite certain it would inhibit the
spilling of his seed, and as she stretched out beside him on
the bed, so close he could feel her warmth and smell her
scent but not touching him, not even a whisper of
skin-on-skin--he realized that was her intention.

"First," she began in a low voice that went straight to his
bound sex, "I'm going to kiss you all over.  I'm going to
start with your forehead, placing tiny, feather kisses upon
your eyes, your cheeks, your nose.  I'll probe your ear with
my tongue until you are nearly screaming with the sensation.
I'll nip at your earlobes, one after another, back and
forth, until they are reddened with my marks."

She turned on her side and began trailing her fingers
softly up and down her chest between her breasts, not
touching them, but making him ache to do so.

"I'll trace my tongue along your neck, lapping at your chin,
sucking at the dimple there, biting your lips until they are
swollen with need.  I'll claim your mouth slowly, plunging
my tongue in as far as it will go, possessing every inch of
your lips, your tongue--you'll try to wrest control from me,
but you will fail."

He gasped, realizing he had forgotten to breathe.

"After that, I'll lap at the hollow at the base of your
neck.  Perhaps I'll pour some wine there and lick it off
until my thirst for you is slaked.  My fingers will trace
softly down your chest, flicking over your nipples until
they are hardened and craving my attention.  I'll suck at
each of them in turn until you are crying out your need for
me.

"Your soft belly will be next.  My tongue will slide across
it, making you squirm, making you wriggle, but you cannot
escape me.  You'll be breathing heavily by then, think that
I'm coming nearer your sex, that you'll gain relief soon.

"You'll be wrong."

He groaned aloud.

"I'll tease my tongue into your navel, in and out, in and
out, mimicking the movements of your sex in mine, until you
are finally begging me to take you.  You *will* beg me,
Fox," she informed him, and he had no doubt that she was
correct.

"Your entire attention will be focused on your sex as I move
my mouth lower and lower, nuzzling the hair that surrounds
it--and then I'll pass it by."

He shuddered.

"I'll lick and suck and nip at the insides of your thighs
until they are trembling with desire for me.  It will take
me forever to make my way down your lovely legs, and I will
take my time, savoring every inch of your lovely flesh.

"I'll suck on each of your toes in turn, and by then, you'll
be bucking, desperate for my touch on your rod."

He was desperate for that already.  Her words had inflamed
him, and he felt as if the only thing keeping him from
spilling his seed at those words alone was the ribbon.

"When I'm finished with your toes, I'll lick the bottoms of
your feet, and you'll try to jerk away, but you'll be held
captive.  My captive, to do with as I wish."

She still had not touched him, only her voice caressed him
as she continued describing the erotic tortures she planned
to inflict upon him.  He moaned deep in his throat, his eyes
tightly closed.

"I'll make my way back up your legs," she told him huskily,
"slowly, drawing out the torture, until at last you are
ready to promise me anything.  When you reach that state,
and only then, I'll allow you a slight touch on your sex."

He breathed a sigh of relief, and bit back another groan at
her next sentence.

"I'll caress it with my hair, letting the long strands wisp
over it, applying no pressure, giving no satisfaction, only
tormenting you further.

"At last, when you are certain you can't live another minute
without my touch--I'll gently place my fingertips on you."

He made a small noise of relief and she smiled again.

"I'll stroke you lightly, up and down, my touch almost as
soft as my hair on your skin, and when you feel you are
almost at your release, when you're certain that the
punishment is over at last--I'll stop."

"No!" he bit out.  "Dana, please!"

"I'll bring you to that point over and over again, as many
times as I desire, and you will have no choice but to
endure.  You are helplessly bound, and there is nothing you
can do but wait until I choose to give you your fulfillment.
Perhaps I shall choose not to allow you your man's release
at all."

"Please..." he begged hoarsely.  "I'm sorry, please, oh
please Dana please stop please let me--"

She continued as if he had not spoken.  "And you will never,
never try to take advantage of me again."

He tugged furiously at the scarves, so roughly that she knew
he would have bruises on his wrists and ankles later.

"I won't I'm sorry I'll never do it again oh please my lady
please let me please..."

"Let you what?"

"I want--I want--"

At last, showing mercy for her poor bound possession, she
began at his forehead, her lips and teeth doing exactly as
she'd promised.

Once he realized that she fully intended to put him through
the reality of the torture now that she'd told him about it,
he writhed even more furiously, but it was all for naught.
Dana gave him every second of punishment that she could,
drawing out his torment for as long as she was able, and
then, at last, when he was begging incoherently and verbally
throwing himself upon her mercy--she released his manhood
and allowed him to experience his fulfillment.  But only
after she'd taken hers from him first.

It was only fair, she reasoned.  After all, she was the
mistress.

He was only a man.



Chapter 5



Fox fell into a sound sleep after crying out his release in
Dana's arms, and she lay atop him for a time, smiling
happily.  She was quite pleased with her marriage, and
teaching Fox the ways of a woman with a man was even more
fun than she'd expected.  He was always shocked, and yet
always so responsive to her lovemaking.  Even now, after
she'd spent the last hour torturing him, he slept with a
smile curving his lips and a contented expression upon his
pretty face.  She was certain Fox didn't find marriage to be
*too* repulsive.

At last, glancing toward the clock and realizing that the
servants would be arriving with lunch at any moment, Dana
rose and donned her robe.  She had just finished removing
the scarves that still bound her husband to the bed and
covering his naked form when the knock at the door signaled
the arrival of their meal.

"Bring more bath water," she ordered when the lunch tray had
been deposited on a table.  "And wipe that smirk off your
face, Sarah.  Fox is shy enough about lovemaking still,
without you ladies teasing him about it.  Last night in the
stocks was terribly difficult for him."

"Yes, my lady," Sarah responded demurely, and retreated to
ring for more bathwater.

By the time the smell of food woke Fox, the tub had been
once again refilled with steaming water, and Dana was just
climbing from its depths.  She wrapped the drying towel
around herself and smiled at him.

"Get yourself bathed and dressed, Fox," she ordered gently,
"and then we'll eat.  I have a surprise for you this
afternoon."

"A surprise?" he questioned, eyeing her suspiciously, and
bit his lip in consternation when she laughed at him.

"Yes, a surprise.  A nice one.  Now obey me, or I'll have to
take my hairbrush to that pretty backside of yours."

Fox climbed out of bed immediately, slipping into the warm
bath water and giving a sigh of bliss.  He relaxed for a few
minutes, allowing the heat to soak into his sore muscles,
but when Dana emerged from behind the screen, fully dressed,
he hurried through his washing.

The smell of the food when she uncovered the tray reminded
Fox that he was quite hungry, and he dressed quickly and
took his place beside her.

"Allow me to serve you, my lady?" he requested, and Dana
nodded her thanks.

When he reached to place her plate before her, the sleeve of
his shirt pulled back to reveal the bruised flesh of his
wrists.  Dana captured his hand in hers and lifted the
injured wrist to her mouth, planting soft kisses there.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you, my sweet," she said,
with just a hint of apology in her tone.  "I hadn't
anticipated your extreme reaction."

He took his seat and reached for a piece of bread.  "Do not
worry, my lady.  I bruise easily, but the bruises don't
last long, and rarely do they cause me pain."

They ate in silence for a few moments, and he finally found
the courage to broach a subject they'd been avoiding.

"I--I want to thank you for what you did last night," he
told her sincerely.

She took a long drink of wine from her trencher, then said,
"What, specifically, are you thanking me for?"

"For saving me from a lot worse punishment," he admitted.
"I had time to think about it, standing there in those
stocks for all those hours.  You could have allowed Lady
Fowley to name a punishment, you could have let the party
guests watch, but instead, you gave us our privacy during a
humiliating ordeal.  I appreciate that."

Dana put down her bread and took his hand again.

"Fox, I didn't want to punish you at all.  I was wrong, and
so was Mother, for not paying attention to Walter when he
tried to gain our assistance.  The only reason you were put
in the stocks is to give the appearance of a harsh
punishment to follow--our guests are none the wiser."

"I know.  Walter said as much.  But all the same, I thank
you.  Lady Fowley...frightens me."

"You will do your best to avoid her in the future," Dana
ordered, "and I will see to it that she does not touch you
again.  That woman is a viper."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, finish your lunch, and let us see about that
surprise."

Fox finished his meal, more eagerly now that his conscience
had been cleared, and as soon as they were done, Dana rose
to her feet and left the chamber.  Fox followed closely,
wondering what this new surprise could be, and hoping it was
not as unpleasant as the stocks.

They entered the Scully stables, and Fox spotted his
surprise at once, running to the stall occupied by the
newest addition.

"Samantha!" he crowed happily, nuzzling the horse's head and
allowing her to do the same with him.  "I missed you, my
beautiful darling," he crooned.

"Langly brought her over early this morning," Dana told Fox,
enjoying the reunion taking place.  "I do believe she missed
you, as well.  Saddle up, Fox," she said, leading Thunder
from his own stall.  "I'm sure Samantha craves having you
ride her.  Perhaps we'll find a quiet spot and you can ride
me."

Fox was speechless at her reference to their lovemaking, and
the wanton way in which he had behaved. He continued to be
amazed at his own reaction to his beautiful wife, completely
unprepared for the many ways in which she insisted upon
using his body and yet averse to none of them, not
really--not deep in his heart.

"My lady enjoys embarrassing me," he murmured as he placed a
saddle on Samantha's back.

"Indeed I do, Fox," she smiled.  "I like to see your pretty
face turn red at my words.  It's quite attractive.  I'm also
very pleased that you are so pure and innocent, my darling,
but you are a man now, and you must learn to pleasure me in
any way that I desire.  Soon you'll grow used to our
activities, and you'll no longer feel shame."

"Not shame," he corrected as he mounted his horse and
followed Dana out of the barn.  "Just..."

She gave him an understanding look.  "I know, it isn't
considered proper for a young man to know about such things.
But you're married now, Fox, and it's not only proper, it's
expected. Lady Teena has sheltered you even more than I
suspected."

"After Father died, I was almost a prisoner on our estate,"
he confirmed quietly.  "Father gave me Samantha on the day
she was born, and she has been my truest friend.  Haven't
you, darling?" he cooed at the horse, and Dana smiled.

"For the past five years, I've seen little of society. I
never had a Season in London, for Mother always intended to
choose my wife, so I'm quite uneducated in the ways of
women.  Father always told me..." He stopped and shivered in
the chilly afternoon air.

"What did your father tell you?"

Fox sighed.  "He said that women would try to take advantage
of me because I was pretty.  He said if I wasn't careful, I
would be ruined, and no woman would want me for marriage.  I
guess I believed a little too deeply in his words."

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "it's true that some women
feel that way--they want their husband completely untouched
or they don't want him at all.  I would have wanted you in
any case, my Fox."

He glanced at her, startled.  "Is that true?"

"Of course."

"Then," he teased, "I could have been bedded by many women
and still become Lord Scully?"

Dana's eyes narrowed.  "But you've only been bedded by me,
and so help me, Fox, it had better be that way until I die.
If I ever thought you were with another woman--"

She let the threat hang, but Fox shivered again.  He had
seen enough of his wife's temper to know that he never,
*never* wanted to cross her in that manner.  Besides, the
thought of any other woman touching him the way Dana did was
slightly repulsive and more than a little frightening.

Their peaceful conversation was interrupted a moment later,
and Fox paled--it was the woman who could cause him to quake
in his high-heeled boots.

"Good afternoon, Lady Dana," called Diana Fowley's voice
behind them. "Fox, you're looking particularly lovely
today."

"Thank you, my lady," mumbled Fox, edging Samantha closer to
Thunder.

"You seem fully recovered, Diana," Dana observed coolly.
"I'm glad to see that knock on the head didn't rattle your
brains further."

Diana's eyes narrowed briefly.  "I do hope Lord Walter was
suitably punished for that, as well as Fox.  You're sitting
entirely too easily for my taste, Sweet One."

Fox remained silent, his eyes on his saddle, hoping Dana
would remember her promise not to allow Diana to touch him
again.  Samantha whinnied and nuzzled Thunder's neck.  She
didn't care for Lady Fowley either.

"Fox has been punished to my satisfaction," Dana replied.

"What a fine mare," Diana said, eyeing Samantha admiringly.
"Lady Dana, I do hope you'll consider selling her to me!"

Fox gasped, completely taken aback.  Diana knew how much
Samantha meant to him, she had known his family for years.
Fox had been with Angelfire when she'd birthed Samantha, and
he'd raised her and loved her all her life.  Surely Dana
wouldn't sell his horse!

"I'll consider it," Dana answered evenly.  "But I doubt
you'll gain satisfaction.  Fox's horse is not for sale."

He slumped in the saddle with relief.

"But she isn't Fox's horse," Lady Fowley objected.  "A man
cannot legally own property.  As your husband, any property
that came with him from his mother is now yours to dispose
of as you see fit."

"Exactly," Dana agreed.  "And I see fit to allow Fox to keep
Samantha for as long as he wishes.  Good afternoon, Lady
Fowley.  Fox, come along."

Fox obeyed gratefully, following his wife as she rode away
from Lady Fowley, but he could feel the other woman's eyes
on them until they rounded a corner and were safe from her
sight.

"Thank you, my lady," he whispered, obvious relief on his
face, and she turned to him in surprise.

"I want you to be happy with me, Fox," she told him
earnestly.  "It's clear to me how much you and Samantha care
for one another.  I would never take her away from you."

He nodded, patting the horse's neck comfortingly.  "It's all
right, Sammy," he told her.  "We have a good, kind
mistress who will take good care of us."

Dana smiled, urging Thunder on to a trot.  "Come now, Fox. I
know of a clearing nearby where you can thank me properly."

"You mean...out in the open?" he asked, aghast.

"That's right."

"But my lady--someone might see us!"

Her laughter floated back to him on the wind.  "Fox, if
anyone sees us, they will go discreetly on their way and
leave us be.  And besides, anyone who saw me enjoying you
would only envy me, and think what a lucky woman I am to
possess such a beautiful husband."

He sighed, and trotted after her.  He had no choice,
really--if he refused her, she would only punish him, and
then she would take him anyway.  And besides, his wife's
attentions to his person were more welcome than he felt
comfortable admitting yet.  He wondered if she would allow
him to be atop her again.

-----

Fox crept carefully from the bed, slipping slowly from
beneath the possessive arm Lady Dana had flung over him.  It
was still an hour until sunup, and with any luck he would be
back in bed beside his wife before she noticed his absence.
Now, if he could only elude the servants.  The serving men
weren't so bad, but the damned wenches were a step above him
in rank simply by virtue of their gender, and they never let
him forget it.  He'd complained to Dana, feeling used and
abused on more than one occasion, but she had only patted
his cheek and told him not to worry his pretty head about
it--the servant women might tease him a little, but they
knew where to draw the line.

Fox wasn't so sure, but he had no choice but to trust his
wife, and to be sure, none of the women had done anything
more than grope him.  He was used to submitting to that--his
mother's servants had done the same thing.  It wasn't
unusual for him to find one of the male servants surrounded
by the women, after working hours were done, being teased
and tormented mercilessly.  Usually the man would be taken
away to the servants quarters, probably to be the
entertainment for the evening, although Fox was never sure
about that.

He'd questioned Jerry Lamana about it once, when they were
younger, but Jerry had merely shrugged and stated that it
was the lot of a male servant to be at the whim of the
females.  Sometimes the mistress of the house would take a
male servant to her bed--at times it would be the man's only
function to warm the mistress' bed--but he was fairly
certain Lady Teena had never done so.  Not on a regular
basis, anyway.  As to Lady Dana--well, she hadn't done so
yet, but Fox was troubled by the idea that she might.  He
wanted to be the only man in his lady's bed.

Fox crept carefully down the stairs, avoiding the step
that always creaked, and ducked into an empty room on the
first floor when he heard two of the servants approaching.
It was part of the kitchen staff, on their way to begin
preparing breakfast for the family and staff, and Fox
breathed a sigh of relief that he had approved the week's
menus with the cook the day before.  He need not concern
himself further unless his assistance was required in meal
preparation, or a decision concerning the kitchen had to be
made.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, until the coast
was clear, and then slipped quietly out the door and ran for
the stables.  He needed to ride Samantha.  He needed to hold
onto her neck, and smell her horsey smell, and remind
himself that not *everything* in his world had gone
topsy-turvy in the past week.

He entered the barn happily, threw open the door to
Samantha's stall--and froze.  It was empty.  Samantha was
gone.

Chewing thoughtfully on his lip, Fox glanced around quickly
to see if anyone was about.  Could it be that one of the
stable hands had merely taken her out for some exercise? No,
it was much too early for that.  They wouldn't begin working
until sunup, and the entire barn was quiet.

Immediately, his mind jumped to what he considered the most
logical conclusion.  It had to be Lady Diana.  She had
wanted to buy Samantha, and when Dana had refused, Lady
Fowley had stolen her!  Poor Samantha--Fox was afraid to
think how she would be treated in Lady Fowley's care.  He
had to get her back!

He bolted into the stable yard and bit back a cry of
surprise when he nearly ran smack into Walter.

Walter had been roaming the grounds when he had seen Fox
sneak into the stables.  He was fairly certain Lady Dana
wouldn't approve of her young husband skulking about the
property alone, especially before the sun arose, and if Fox
intended what Walter suspected...well, Walter knew from sad
experience what happened to Scully men who went riding
without protection.

"Fox, what are you doing?" he hissed quietly, grabbing the
younger man by the wrists to steady him.

"Let me go," Fox insisted, twisting away.  "She's taken
Samantha!"

"Who?" Walter demanded, clutching at Fox's arm when he tried
to run.  "What are you talking about?"

Fox sighed impatiently.  "Lady Fowley.  She wanted to buy
Samantha and Dana wouldn't sell her and now she's *stolen*
her!"

Walter stared into the barn, at Samantha's empty stall, and
then gave Fox a little shake to calm him.

"You need to report this to Lady Dana at once," he began,
but Fox was already shaking his head vigorously.

"I haven't time, I must find Samantha!" he insisted.  "I
have to bring her back.  Besides," he added, almost as an
afterthought, "what are *you* doing out here alone?"

"It's my quiet time," Walter admitted.  "Since Lady Maggie
caught me about to go riding alone, I haven't dared venture
that again.  I've taken to walking the grounds in the early
morning before anyone else arises."

Fox's eyes narrowed.  "Lady Maggie would be furious if she
knew," he remarked slyly.

"She doesn't know.  And you'd better not tell her, or
I'll--"

"If you keep my secret, I promise to keep yours," Fox
bargained.  "I have to go after Samantha.  If anyone asks
about me, create a plausible lie."

"You can't go to the Fowley land alone!" Walter objected,
shocked at the suggestion.  "What would Lady Diana do if she
found you?  Fox...you might be..."  Walter couldn't even
finish the sentence, the image was so horrible.

"I don't care," Fox tossed recklessly over his shoulder as
he jogged down the carriageway.  "I have to rescue
Samantha."

Walter stared after Fox, then looked helplessly up at the
windows to Lady Maggie's chamber.  If she chanced to awaken
and glance outside to see her husband wandering the grounds
in the dark, without an escort...he shuddered.  On the other
hand, he simply couldn't let the boy confront Lady Fowley
alone.  He should go after Fox, and drag him back home if
need be.  That's what Lady Maggie would expect of him.
Nodding to himself, he set off after Fox.  He had to get the
younger Lord Scully back home before the women discovered
that they were both alone in their beds.

-----

Elizabeth squinted, staring down the road at the two figures
disappearing in the opposite direction.  It was still
somewhat dark, but if she didn't know better, she would
swear it was the two Lord Scullys, tearing off down the road
on foot, alone.

Shaking her head, she clucked at Samantha, giving the mare a
bit more rein.

"It wasn't nice of you to go running back to Lady Teena's
estate," she scolded.  "You're a Scully woman now.  You live
here."

Samantha nickered at her and followed obediently.

Elizabeth took another look down the road, barely able to
discern the dim figures now, and would have soon forgotten
all about it had she not heard a voice call, "Hurry up,
Walter!  You're lagging!"

It was definitely Lord Fox, Elizabeth thought with a sigh.
Lady Dana certainly had her hands full with that one.  It
was almost enough to make Elizabeth glad she'd never taken a
husband.

She led Samantha into the stable yard and turned her over to
one of the lads that tended the horses, then made her way
toward the mansion.  She had no idea where the Lord Scullys
were bound, but they were headed for Fowley land.  Lady Dana
would be displeased.  Greatly displeased.

-----

Dana awakened, reaching for Fox in the big bed, planning to
ravish him this morning until he begged for mercy.  One of
the most satisfying things about marriage was always having
a man warming her bed when she desired.  Oh, Dana could have
taken any number of servant men to her bed, and had, on
occasion, but she preferred the stability of making love
frequently with the same man, and she had never found one
who pleased her over a long period of time.  Until Fox.  She
couldn't imagine ever growing tired of him.  He was so full
of passion and sweet enthusiasm that at times he took her
breath away.

Her arms did not find that which they were seeking, and
after groping around the warm bed for several moments, Dana
opened her eyes.  Peering through the gloom, she was
surprised to find herself alone.  Her jaw clenching in
anger, she rose swiftly from the bed and lit the lantern.

Fox's clothing, which she had tossed about the chamber the
previous evening in her haste to get him naked, was missing.

Swallowing her anger, Dana donned her robe.  She told
herself that Fox was merely conscientious, that he had left
their bed early to supervise the servants in the morning
meal preparation, but Dana knew that her husband had
arranged all the menus just the day before.  Perhaps there
was some crisis, then, which had called him from his bed.
Unlikely, she told herself.  Any crisis would have been
called to *her* attention, and she would have delegated the
handling of it to Fox had it concerned the household.

The only other answer, she fumed silently as she flung open
the chamber door, was that he had run away.  She strode down
the corridor and tugged furiously on the door leading to the
stairwell, nearly ripping it off its hinges, and stopped
short when she met her mother just emerging from her own
wing of the mansion.

"Have you seen Walter?" asked Lady Maggie, noting the rage
on her daughter's face.

"No, but I'll bet when I locate Fox, the two are together!"
she retorted, tugging angrily at the belt to her robe.

"Lady Dana--oh, Lady Maggie!"  Elizabeth stopped at the top
of the stairs, surprised to see the two Ladies of the
household in the stairwell in their nightclothes.

"Yes, Elizabeth, what is it?" Dana asked impatiently.

"It's Lord Fox, my lady, and Lord Walter."

"Have you seen them?" Maggie demanded.

"Yes, my lady, I believe so.  You see, Samantha slipped out
of her stall last night and made her way back to Lady
Mulder's estate.  I noticed her missing early this morning,
and guessing what had happened, I rode over to fetch her.
We were almost home when I saw two figures running down the
road away from me.  At first I didn't believe it was them,
but then I heard Lord Fox's voice, and I knew I'd better let
you know.  My lady, they had no escort, and they were headed
toward the Fowley estate!"

"They were on foot?" asked Dana harshly, and her mother
placed a calming hand on her arm.

"Yes, my lady, and running for all they was worth."

"Very well.  Thank you, Elizabeth.  Dana, dress quickly.  We
must retrieve them before they are spotted by Diana's
people."

The two women sped back to their respective chambers,
donning their clothing as quickly as they could, and met in
the stable yard.  Dana swung herself up on Thunder's back,
and as Maggie mounted Hurricane, she wondered at the coil of
rope Dana had hung on her saddle.

Shaking her head in frustration, she followed Dana down the
carriage drive toward the road.  Fox seemed a magnet for
trouble, and her own usually well-behaved Walter was able to
get into more scrapes with the boy around.

"Dana, you must take a firmer hand with that boy," she
commented as they turned their horses toward the Fowley
land.

"Oh, I plan to, Mother.  I plan to."

-----

"Can you see her?" hissed Walter, and Fox shook his head.
They were within sight of the Fowley stables, just off the
road hidden in some brush, but so far all their spying had
yielded no sign of Samantha.

So intent were the men upon their task that they were
oblivious to the sound of hoofbeats approaching.

"Maybe she's not in the stables," Fox whispered grimly.
"Maybe Lady Fowley has her somewhere else, somewhere
horrible...maybe--"

"Maybe I'll whip your ass all the way home," cracked a voice
behind him, and Fox felt his legs turn to jelly.

Slowly, dreading what he knew he would see, Fox turned to
face his furious mistress.  She glowered down at him from
Thunder's back, and directly behind her was Lady Maggie.

"My--my lady," Fox stammered, his mouth suddenly dry.  "We
were just--we were--"

Lady Maggie ignored him, having eyes only for her own
husband.

"Walter," she said in a warning tone that he had come to
know too well.

Walter heaved an audible sigh, and gave himself up to his
wife.  He had learned, from months of experience, that
fighting her was useless.  She pulled him up, none too
gently, and settled him in front of her on Hurricane's back.
Then, sparing neither word nor glance for Fox, Maggie
flicked the reins and rode away grimly.

Fox was left alone to Dana's mercies.

"Do you have an explanation for why I awakened to find you
gone, my sweet, and had to learn from Elizabeth, the stable
girl, that she had seen you and Lord Walter racing down the
road on foot, toward Lady Fowley's property?  Could there
possibly *be* an explanation for that?"  She tried to keep
her voice carefully neutral, but it was impossible to erase
all the fury from her tone.

"I--uh--my lady--I--"  Fox gasped for breath, completely
undone at the sight of his lady's face.  She was going to
kill him.  No question.  She was going to kill him this
time.  Would she do it quickly and mercifully, or would she
torture him for days first?  Either way, it was all over
now.

He closed his eyes tightly and said in a rush, "Samantha was
missing and I know Lady Fowley took her and I'm sorry Dana
but I needed to help Samantha and we have to get her back
before Lady Fowley--"

"Enough!" roared Dana, and Fox clamped his lips shut.

"Samantha," Dana told him carefully, "is at home eating her
breakfast.  It seemed she got a little confused about where
home *is* now, and managed to slip out of her stall last
night and make her way back to your mother's estate.
Elizabeth, expecting this behavior from a horse, went to
bring her back.  What she did *not* expect was to see you
and Lord Walter running down the road in the other
direction, straight into danger, without any kind of female
escort!"  Her voice had risen steadily toward the end of her
tirade, until she was actually yelling at him.

Fox remained speechless, knowing nothing he could say would
make the situation better, while Dana calmed herself.  When
she had regained some control, she climbed down from her
horse.  Fox trembled as she approached him, but knew running
would only compound his trouble.  Dana reached up with both
hands and ripped the shirt he was wearing straight down the
front, exposing his chest to the cool morning air.  She
continued tugging at the fabric until it was in rags, and
discarded them without another thought.

"My lady--what--?" he gaped, but she ignored his protests.

Next, she withdrew a short length of rope from her
saddlebag, and tied his wrists together behind his back. Fox
sighed, submitting to her, wondering what else she had in
store for him.  The morning air was chilly on his skin, and
with an embarrassed flush, he prayed no one would ride by
and see him half naked, tied in such an undignified
position.  It was permissible for a man to show his chest,
indeed, some ladies even required it of their husbands, but
Fox had never been comfortable displaying his body in that
manner, and had been grateful that Lady Dana allowed him to
remain fully dressed--at least when others were around.  Now
he felt exposed and humiliated, and more than a little
frightened.  She was going to kill him.

"All right," Dana finally said in that silky voice he'd
learned to fear, "I'm giving you a choice, Fox.  You may
ride home, bare ass upturned over Thunder's back within my
easy reach, or you may walk home with a rope around your
neck, tied to my saddle, your chest bared for all who might
pass to enjoy.  Either way, you still face a harsh
punishment when we arrive home."

It was several miles back to the Scully estate, and Fox's
feet were already beginning to ache inside his boots.  He
hadn't given a thought to it when he'd set off after
Samantha, but now he realized why they were called *riding*
boots and not *walking* boots.  On the other hand, Lady Dana
was probably going to whip him raw when she got him home,
and did he really want to face that with an already sore
bottom?  He chewed his lip indecisively for a moment, and
finally muttered, "I'll walk."

"Do I hear insolence?" she demanded warningly.

"I'm sorry, my lady," he responded, more clearly this time.
"I meant no insolence, I swear it."

His lady removed the coil of rope from her saddle and
fastened a loop around his neck without another
word, tying it loosely enough so as not to strangle him,
with a knot that wouldn't tighten as he walked, and then
climbed astride Thunder.  She tied the other end of his
leash around her saddle, and started Thunder off in a brisk
walk.

Fox was almost trotting to keep up, and with his hands tied
behind his back, keeping his balance was a challenge.  He
stumbled a time or two, and Dana was forced to slow Thunder
so as not to lose Fox.

He plodded along, ignoring the ache in his feet, his head
bowed in shame.  He was relieve that Samantha was safe, and
fearful of what Dana was going to do to him when she got him
safely back upon the Scully lands.  He shuddered as a mental
picture of Isaac, chained in the rain, invaded his memory.
Dana would never do that to him.  She was stern and strict,
but also kind and tender.  She would punish him severely,
but surely she would never subject him to days of torture,
ending in certain death.  Nobody was that cruel except Lady
Fowley.

Fox wished Dana would yell at him, or scold him, or at least
drop a word in his direction, but she sat in stony silence,
her back rigid and her face set.  Once or twice, he 
glanced up at her and tried to work up the courage to speak,
but the anger flashing in her eyes kept him silent.

At least, at this early hour, it was unlikely that anyone
else would happen along to witness his humiliation, he
thought, and then groaned inwardly as hoofbeats sounded
behind them, rapidly approaching.

Dana heard them also, and with an almost inaudible sigh,
pulled Thunder to a stop.  Fox silently implored her to hide
him in the woods, but she glared at him and waited for the
mysterious rider to appear.  His head dropped lower, his
chin positively grinding into his chest, when he realized
the woman approaching was none other than Lady Diana
herself.  Closing his eyes, Fox willed the ground to open up
and swallow him.  That she should see him in this state of
undress, so obviously enduring a punishment...it was too
awful to contemplate.

"So, the rumors were true," Lady Fowley called merrily,
drawing her horse to a stop beside them.  "My servants
informed me there was a stray Fox loose upon my property
this morning.  I thought I should give the matter my
personal attention."

"He is not on your property at all, Lady Fowley," Dana said
evenly.

Diana raked her eyes up and down Fox's fine physique
appreciatively.  He refused to open his eyes, but he could
feel her stare, and he blushed even redder than before.

"I do enjoy your method of punishment, Lady Scully," Diana
remarked.  "Trespassing--"

"Fox was not trespassing," Dana interrupted smoothly.
"Indeed, he never left the public road.  He is being
punished for riding out without an escort, not for entering
your lands."

"Well," Diana said after a few moments, still scrutinizing
the barely-clad man with a rope about his neck.  "Perhaps
you should keep him on a shorter leash, Dana.  There are
those about who would spirit your Fox away, given the
chance."

"Indeed," said Dana tightly.  "You will excuse us."  She
urged Thunder onward and Fox was forced to open his eyes in
order to retain his balance, but he refused to lift them
from the dirt road.  He could feel Lady Fowley, still
sitting astride her horse in the middle of the road, staring
at them as they walked on.

With a sigh, he made his aching feet take another step, and
another and another.  Farther from Lady Fowley and her evil,
and yet nearer home and his punishment.  Fox felt well and
truly trapped.
              
By the time they reached the Scully stable yard, all Fox
wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for a week, but it
was not to be.  There was still his punishment to get
through.  He expected to be tied to the whipping post and
beaten mercilessly, but instead, Dana walked him over to a
tree with low-hanging branches, and there she pulled Thunder
to a halt.

She reached down and untied the rope that bound his wrists,
then told him to raise his arms above his head.  He did so
eagerly, happy to be able to change position, but moments
later regretted his cooperation.  She tied his wrists
together again, this time over a branch, so that he was
standing with his arms suspended above his head, helpless
once more.

Finally, she cut the rope around his neck, and he took a
deep breath.

"Wait there, Fox," she commanded. Slipping from Thunder's
back, she handed the reins to a stable girl and stalked off
toward the kitchen.

"As if I had a choice," he grumbled to himself, but under
his breath.  The last thing he wanted was to add to his
wife's fury.  He couldn't imagine why she was making for the
kitchen--surely she didn't keep a whip in there!  But as
time crept onward, Fox decided she had not gone to fetch a
whip at all.  Perhaps she intended to merely leave him here,
tied to this tree, until he dropped from sheer exhaustion.

What seemed like forever passed before she returned, 
carrying a large bowl and what appeared to be a basting 
brush.  Fox eyed her with trepidation as she approached.

"Are you going to whip me, my lady?" he asked weakly. If it
had not been for the rope holding him upright, Fox was
certain he would have collapsed to the ground in a heap by
now from fright and fatigue.

"No," she answered shortly, and to his surprise she dipped
the basting brush into the contents of the bowl.  He peered
over his shoulder and saw what appeared to be nothing but
plain water.  He screeched a moment later when Dana began
liberally coating his torso with the cold water.

"What *is* that?" he demanded, squirming in a fruitless
attempt to elude the tormenting brush, which she was now
stroking up and down his belly.  "Stop, it tickles!"

"Sugar water," she replied calmly, ignoring his pleas for
her to stop torturing him.  Fox jerked and struggled when
she applied the sugar water to his back, howling piteously
when she reached the most sensitive parts of his naked
torso.

"No, no, not there, please not there!" he begged as she
began to dab large quantities of the sugar water in his
sensitive armpits. "Oh, stop, damn it, Dana!"

She glared at him.  "Your language is quite unbecoming a
man, Fox.  I'll thank you to stop using words of that
nature, else I shall have to gag you."

"I'm sorry, my lady, but please...*please stop*..." he
whimpered as she painted his ribs with the water.

When she finally finished, Fox was dripping with the sugar
water, hanging limply from the tree, panting heavily.

"All right," he moaned, "I'm sorry.  I've learned my lesson,
I swear.  Won't you please let me down now?"

"Oh, that wasn't your punishment," his wife told him
cheerfully, turning to whistle for Thunder.  "That was only
the preparation.  Since Thunder had to put himself out in
order to rescue you this morning, I think it only fair that
he benefit from your discipline."

"What--what do you mean?" he asked fearfully, but she only
gave him a cold smile.

Seconds later, Thunder trotted obediently to her side, happily
cooperative as Dana allowed him lick the sugar water from the 
brush.

"Thunder simply adores sugar water," she commented mildly,
and after gaining the horse's interest, she directed his
eager tongue to Fox.  Thunder soon found the disobedient,
sugar coated man to be quite to his liking.

"No! No, not that, my lady, please!" he begged tearfully,
but Dana stepped back and let Thunder do his work.

The rough tongue slurped hungrily at Fox's sensitive skin,
and Fox positively howled with laughter as the horse tickled
his back, ribs, belly, and underarms with his tongue.

"Please!  Oh please make him stop!"  Several servants had
made their way outside, attracted by the commotion, and Fox
found himself begging any and all of them for mercy, but
none was forthcoming.  The men turned away with sympathetic
grimaces on their faces, while the women stayed to watch,
enjoying the spectacle of their lady putting her husband in
his place.

Thunder didn't seem to have a plan of attack--he would allow
his tongue to slurp across Fox's belly one moment, slip
around to his sensitive lower back the next, and then work
its way up his ribs to lap at the sugar water that dripped
from the man's armpits.

Tears of rage, frustration and exhaustion ran down his
cheeks, and Fox struggled for all he was worth until his
energy finally gave out.  Then he simply hung there, gasping
for breath between his sobs of tortured laughter, while the
horse lapped the last of the sugar water from his body.

After Thunder had given a final lick and trotted back toward
his stall, a satisfied look on his face, Dana called two of
the larger female servants.

"Cut him down," she ordered, "and take him upstairs.  Bathe
him and put him to bed.  I'll deal with him later.  Fox..."
She grasped his chin to make certain he heard her.  "Wait
for me in our bed.  If I come to our chamber and find you
anywhere *except* in our bed, I'll make you sorry, am I
understood?"

"Yes, my lady," he murmured, and leaning heavily on the arms
of the servants, he was escorted away.

Upstairs, Fox hadn't the energy to even be embarrassed as he
was stripped, washed, and put to bed naked by the servants.
A couple of them couldn't resist the urge to caress his most
private places, but he was too exhausted to even protest,
and once they left him alone, Fox curled beneath the covers
and fell into a sound sleep.

-----

Walter listened to Fox's screams coming from the stable yard
and grasped the arms of the chair tightly.  He was uncertain
which of the two punishments he would rather endure.  Lady
Maggie had marched him up the stairs to their chamber in
ominous silence, and the moment they were inside with the
door secured she had turned on him.

"Remove your clothing, Walter.  Every scrap of it."

Walter swallowed hard and reached for his shirt, slowly
drawing it over his head.  It was rare that Lady Maggie made
him strip off completely when he was being punished, and her
command to do so now did not bode well.

He had removed his boots, and drawn his breeches down with
agonizing slowness, but Maggie had waited patiently, her
eyes icy stones.  When at last he stood before her naked,
she pointed to the chair, and he sighed.  He hated bending
over the back of the padded chair while she punished him,
and she well knew it.  He always felt like a small child,
and having the blood rushing to his head seemed to make the
punishment seem more severe, somehow.

Wordless, he assumed the position, belly against the chair
back, hands clutching the velvet-covered arms, bottom well
turned up to meet its fate.

He expected the hairbrush, and was unpleasantly surprised
when the first stroke of the strap landed across his behind.

"Ow!" he yelled, tightening his grip on the chair
convulsively.  This was going to be bad.

He was correct.  The strap fell and fell, seeming never to
stop, while Lady Maggie lectured him about leaving their
chamber before sunup, walking about the estate unescorted,
stealing off on wild adventures with that young scamp her
daughter had married, endangering himself by walking onto
the property of a known enemy...the list went on and on, and
so did the strokes of the strap, until Walter's feet were
dancing on the floor as he tried reflexively to elude the
punishing blows.

"Please Maggie!" he begged over and over again, but she was
deaf to his promises to do better, to never steal out of
their bed again, to stop allowing Fox to lead him into
trouble.

When he had long since lost count of the stokes, and his
previously white bottom was a nice shade of scarlet, Maggie
stopped at last, and Walter sobbed his relief into the chair
cushions.

"You can stay there for a while," she told him firmly when
he began to rise from the chair. "I'll enjoy looking at your
red behind while I eat my breakfast."

Lord Walter blushed as he heard the chamber door open and
the servants enter with a tray for his wife.  He tried to
ignore their giggles at his predicament, comforting himself
with the plan he was forming.  This was all Fox's fault, and
he swore to himself to get revenge on the boy if it was the
last thing he did.


Chapter 6


Dana glanced fondly at her sleeping husband.  His wrists had
new bruises over the old ones, and he had moaned in his
sleep periodically during the night.  She was certain his
muscles must be sore, and his feet had blisters from walking
so many miles in his riding boots.  All the same, he was
adorable, his long lashes curling down to touch his cheek,
his wavy brown hair falling haphazardly over his forehead,
and his muscular arms sprawled out on her bed.  She'd
intended to make love to him the night before, but when
she'd reached for him, he had moaned piteously in his sleep,
and she'd not had the heart to wake him.

She thought of waking him with a kiss and taking him
immediately, staring for a few longing seconds at the bulge
between his legs that the sheet barely concealed, and then
smothered a sigh.  It was her right to do so, but it would
be unkind.  He had suffered greatly the day before, and
lovemaking would be less than pleasurable for him this
morning.

With a sigh of frustration, she climbed from the bed and
rang for the bathwater.  She would have him immediately
after breakfast, she vowed silently. When the servants had
filled the tub to her satisfaction she requested a tray for
Fox.

"Just for Lord Fox, my lady?" questioned Sarah, and Dana
nodded.  Sarah was normally a parlor maid, but she had been
doubling as Dana's chamber maid since Reginald, a servant
Dana had known all her life, had died several months
earlier.

"Yes, Sarah.  Lord Fox will remain in bed today.  I shall
eat downstairs with Mother and Walter, and then I must
attend a patient in the village."

Fox stirred at the sound of their voices, and when Sarah had
left the room and Dana slipped into the bathwater, he forced
himself to sit.

"Ohhh," he groaned as his muscles rebelled.

"You should lie down," she advised, hastily cleaning
herself.  "How do you feel this morning?"

"I hurt," he told her petulantly.  "Everywhere."

"I am not surprised," she said dryly.  She finished her bath
and rose from the tub, reaching for the drying towel, and
told him, "Get into the tub now and clean yourself.  Make
haste, for Sarah will return shortly with your breakfast."

He winced as he placed his weight on his blistered feet, and
sank gratefully into the warm water.  "Am I confined to my
room then?" he asked carefully.  "Is my punishment not
completed?"

She touched his cheek lightly before going behind the screen
to dress.  "Your punishment is over, sweeting, but today you
must recover.  I would that you remain abed for this entire
day."

"But I don't need to do that," he objected, and she gave him
a dark look around the edge of the screen.  Fox sighed
resignedly and finished his bath.  If Dana told him to
remain abed, he would have to do so.  He was in no mood to
face further punishment.

"It is my responsibility to see to it that you are cared
for," she said, emerging from behind the screen.  "You must
recover from your ordeal.  Your feet must heal, and your
muscles are sore."

He hadn't realized quite how sore until he rose from the
bath and stretched.  He truly *did* ache everywhere, he
realized with irritation.  He even had a nasty headache, and
his stomach felt unsettled.

Fox slipped into a nightshirt, feeling the soft fabric swirl
around his skin, and Dana watched with a gleam in her eye.
She didn't intend Fox should wear the shirt for more than a
few minutes, but his next words spoiled her plans for a
leisurely romp in her bed after breakfast.

"I don't believe breakfast will be required, my lady," he
said, making his way slowly back to bed.  With every step he
took, his nausea increased.

"Nonsense, Fox," she said briskly.  "You must eat.  You
slept through supper last night."

"Yes ma'am," he responded softly, climbing gratefully
beneath the covers and curling into a ball.  He wanted to
obey her, he truly did, but Fox knew that any morsel he
tried to put into his stomach right now was only going to
re-emerge soon.

Sarah entered the room with his tray but moments later, and
Fox gasped at the way his illness increased with the smell
of the food.

"Are you sickening, Fox?" Dana asked, placing a concerned
hand upon his forehead.  "You feel warm."

"I--I'm--" he gulped, his face taking on a decided greenish
tint, and he bolted from the bed, managing to reach the
chamber pot before heaving the bile of his empty stomach
into it.

"Sarah, take the food away," Dana ordered, pouring a drink
of cool water for him.  She washed his face, then helped him
climb back into bed, shivering beneath the covers.

"Have you been feeling ill?" she inquired, beginning a
routine examination.  His skin felt feverish, and his face
was flushed from the exertion of emptying his stomach, but
other than that he appeared normal.  His pulse was only
slightly elevated, his heartbeat strong and healthy, and
there were no marks or bruises upon him except those at his
wrists.

"No, not until I rose from the bath," he answered.  "And I
feel fine now, just a bit tired."

Sarah quietly removed the soiled chamber pot while Dana
covered her husband carefully and kissed his forehead.
Reaching for a cloth and some cool water, she bathed his
face of sweat.  Fox closed his eyes, breathing slowly under
her ministrations, and snuggled down further into the
covers.

"I wish I could stay with you, sweeting, but I'm afraid
there is a patient I simply must attend this morning.  I
shall send Mother to check on you later," she told him.
"Ring for a servant if you need any assistance, and other
than that, you are to stay right here, do you understand me,
Fox?"

"Yes, my lady, only please--no more food."

She smiled indulgently.  "We shall discuss the condition of
your stomach when lunch time arrives.  Until then, I think
more sleep might be the cure you need."

He nodded and snuggled beneath the coverlet, already
beginning to feel drowsy, and she departed, closing the door
carefully behind her.

When Dana slipped into her seat at the breakfast table,
Maggie and Walter were already halfway through their meal.

"Is Fox ill?" Maggie asked her.  "Sarah said he was
sickening."

"He is not well.  A touch of some stomach ailment, I
believe," Dana replied.  "I must attend Lady Rogers this
morning--will you look in on Fox later, Mother?"

The conversation was interrupted when Roberta, the butler,
entered the room.

"Excuse me, Lady Dana," she ventured.  "There is a young man
here seeking employment.  I asked him to wait."

"What kind of work does he do, Roberta?" Dana asked,
reaching for another muffin.

"He says he is an upstairs maid, my lady.  Melvin has
already met with him."

Melvin, the housekeeper, was very exacting in his standards,
Dana knew.  If Melvin approved the prospective maid, her own
interview would be merely a formality.

"We are in need of more help in the upper regions of the
house," Maggie commented.  "Sarah has been doing double duty
for far too long.  Will you interview him?"

"I will," Dana told her, "but I refuse to take him on unless
he agrees to my terms."

Maggie smiled fondly at her daughter.  "You are far too
rigid, my dear," she remarked kindly, and Dana threw her a
look of annoyance.

"Nonetheless, Mother, I am in charge of the estate," she
reminded, and Maggie nodded.

By all rights, the Scully estate should have been passed on
to the eldest daughter, Melissa, but Melissa had joined the
military at a young age, moving quickly up through the ranks
until she had, at the unprecedented age of thirty-four,
become a General in command of the Queen's Guard.  She was
quite wealthy in her own right, and had urged her mother to
leave the family estate to her younger sister instead.

"I can't manage it from London," she'd insisted, "and Dana
is happy here.  Let her have it, to pass on to her
daughters.  I have my own wealth."

Maggie concurred, and, although Dana would not fully inherit
Scully Manor until her mother's death, the management of the
vast estate had been turned over to her several years
earlier.  Since then, Dana had shown herself to be as
competent an estate manager as she was a healer.

Hastily finishing her breakfast, Dana entered the salon
where the young man in question awaited. She stopped short,
admiring the vision before her.  He wasn't as pretty as her
Fox, but very nearly.  His green eyes glowed beneath his
chestnut hair, and the lines of his face were well-defined
and attractive.  He stood almost as tall as Fox, and his
form was pleasing in every way.  His shirt was partially
open, revealing a chest that begged to be fondled.  For a
moment, Dana almost considered taking the boy to her bed,
but Fox was quite satisfying, and she was not yet ready to
supplement his favors with another.

"I am Alex Krycek, my lady," he said, bowing deferentially
to her.  "Your housekeeper said you might have need of my
services."

"You are an upstairs maid?"

"Yes ma'am.  I have a letter of reference from my previous
employer."  He handed her a scrap of paper, and she read its
contents quickly.  The Lady who had written the reference
was not an acquaintance of Dana's, but was well known in
London by reputation as an honest and trustworthy person.

"This is satisfactory," she said, handing the paper back to
him.  "However, I think you should know that I only employ
lifetime contracts."

His eyes widened a bit, but he said nothing.  A male servant
was required to sign a contract to remain in the employ of a
Lady for a certain number of years, that number to be agreed
upon by the employer and prospective servant.  During the
time a man was contracted, he was treated as the property of
the Lady, and she was expected to provide for all his needs
in exchange for his service.  A contract could be as many
years as both desired, but a very few employers required
lifetime commitments from their servants.  Thus, if Alex
signed a contract with Lady Dana, he would essentially
belong to her for the rest of his life.  She could use him,
work him in any capacity she chose, even marry him off if it
was her desire.  A lifetime contract was an enormous
decision.

Alex narrowed his eyes, considering--the Scully family had a
reputation for treating their servants well.  Besides, if
his endeavor was to succeed, he really had no choice.  He
must be employed by Lady Dana, no matter the cost.  And, he
reminded himself, if his plan came to fruition, he would
soon be warming the Lady's bed on a regular basis, and his
life would be comfortable--as comfortable as a man could
reasonably expect.

"The Scully estate is a desirable employer," Dana continued.
"We take very good care of our servants, and you'll find
they're all quite happy.  I'm not of a mind to hire a man,
get him well trained, then have him leave me to go to one of
my neighbors.  If you feel this commitment is not to your
liking, please seek employment elsewhere."

"No, my lady," he said quickly.  "It's quite satisfactory.
Indeed, it would be an honor to be taken under contract by
one so esteemed in the region."

She looked him up and down carefully for a minute, and Alex
stood straight and tall beneath her scrutiny.

"Remove your shirt," she ordered.

Alex looked startled.  "My lady?" he questioned hesitantly.

"I wish to see if you bear any marks of displeasure from
previous employers."

Alex opened his mouth as if to protest, but seeing her
unbending expression, quickly obeyed.  He stood silently,
head bowed, while she prowled around him, examining his
smooth flesh carefully.  His back bore no marks or scars of
any kind, and the muscles in his chest and arms were firm
and strong.

"Very well," she said at last.  "You may begin at once.  You
will be caring for the East Wing, where my husband and I
live. Melvin will show you to your room and get you
started."

"Roberta," she called, and the butler entered the room
immediately.  "Draw up a contract.  Do you read or write?"
she asked, turning back to Alex.  The slave shook his head,
wide-eyed at the prospect of a man being so educated. "Place
your mark upon the contract, then," she told him. "Roberta
will show you where."

"Thank you, my lady," he said, flashing her a toothy smile
that very nearly caused her to forget her resolve to let Fox
be this morning. Indeed, a romp in bed with her beautiful
husband was just what she needed to take her mind off her
lust, but Fox was unwell, and there simply wasn't time. With
a sigh, she started for the village, leaving Alex in
Roberta's care.

When Dana arrived at Lady Rogers' home, she found that her
patient had worsened, and she spend the rest of the morning
and most of the afternoon easing that woman's final hours.
Toward early evening, Lady Rogers at last passed to the
great beyond, and Dana spoke a few comforting words to her
husband before taking her leave, weary and sad.  Lady Rogers
had been a lifelong resident of the village, and had lived
fifty-seven good years.  She would be missed.  Luckily, Lord
Rogers had several daughters to care for him.  He would not
be left to fend for himself, as poor Walter had been when
Lady Sharon had died.

All the same, his devastation at the loss of his wife had
shaken Dana.

"Why should I live?" he implored, tears streaming down his
face.

"There now," she comforted him.  "You have three fine
daughters.  They will care for you."

Lord Rogers shook his head, his grief overwhelming. "Without
Ann, my life is nothing," he whispered, staring at the room
where his wife's lifeless body lay.

Dana, unknowing of what to say in such a situation, although
she had faced death on many occasion, crept silently from
the house and took her leave.  What must it be like, she
wondered, to have your husband adore you?  True, Fox cared
for her--at least she believed he did--but the complete
devotion Lord Rogers showed to Lady Ann had been a
revelation to Dana.  She wondered how she had failed to
notice it in the past, and how many other couples felt the
same.

Not many, she decided at length.  A man must love his lady
wife, that was expected, but for a woman to feel anything
more than fond affection for her husband was, in Dana's
opinion, a sign of weakness.  Scully women were never weak.

Lost in thought as she rode slowly toward home, Dana was
surprised to meet Lady Teena, returning home herself from a
visit to a friend nearby.

"How is my son?" Teena asked, smiling.  "Have you taken him
well in hand?"

"Indeed I have, my lady," Dana replied.  "He is quite
spirited."

Teena looked amused. "Oh yes, Fox always did find himself in
trouble more often than the average boy.  You look tired,
Dana, are you quite well?"

"I am well, thank you.  I have just come from Lady Rogers'
deathbed."

Teena nodded soberly.  "I knew Ann did not have many days
remaining.  I saw her just yesterday.  Poor Franklin.  He
loved her so."

Dana sighed.  "It is the most difficult part of being a
healer, watching the families left behind.  Speaking of
such, I must hurry home and see to Fox."

"Oh dear, is he ill?"

"He was a bit unsettled this morning.  Mother has been
caring for him today."

"Well, give the boy my love, and tell your dear mother that
she must come to visit me soon," Teena told her, flicking
the reins and moving on.


Fox lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling in boredom.  His
muscles were still a bit stiff and sore, but his stomach
felt fine.  He had not been ill in over two hours, and he
was certain it had been merely a passing ailment.  He wanted
to get out of bed, perhaps go for a walk around the grounds,
but Dana had ordered him to remain where he was, and Maggie
had popped in several times to check on him.  He didn't dare
risk her wrath if he was caught disobeying Dana.

He had counted the decorative spots on the ceiling at least
twice when there was a light tap at the door.

"Yes?" he called, and the door opened to reveal Sarah,
followed closely by a very handsome young man.

Fox stared at the new arrival uncertainly, suddenly feeling
rumpled and unattractive.  Alex was quite pretty--no, he was
much more than 'quite pretty'--he was stunning, Fox realized
with a bolt of pure jealousy.  The man stood tall, maybe
taller than Fox, and his body was well filled out in all the
right places.  His eyes were a deep green, and his hair fell
across his forehead in a most enticing manner.  Fox sniffed the air
surreptitiously, wondering if Sarah had managed to remove
all smell of his sickness from the room.

"My lord Fox," Sarah reported, "this is your new chamber
maid, Alex.  He'll be taking care of the East Wing starting
today."

"Lord Fox," Alex said politely, inclining his head slightly
in Fox's direction.  "I am sorry you are ill."

"I'm fine," Fox muttered, then remembered his manners.
"Welcome to the Scully estate, Alex," he said formally.
"Melvin, the housekeeper, will instruct you in what your
duties will entail."

"I have already spoken to Melvin," Alex assured him, and
there was something of a glint in his eye that made Fox
uncomfortable.  "He tells me I may spend a good deal of my
time in this chamber...both day and night," he added in a
low voice meant only for Fox.

Fox was taken aback at the outright suggestion that Alex
might spend nights in Dana's chamber, so taken aback that he
could not think of a thing to say.  Several retorts crossed
his mind, but he knew that any snide comment he made in
front of Sarah would find its way back to Dana, and he did
not want his backside to answer for it later.  Instead, he
curtly dismissed the two servants, telling Sarah he wished
not to be disturbed for the rest of the day, and slid down
beneath the covers again.  He thought he heard soft, mocking
male laughter from the corridor just as the door closed.

Fox lay in his bed for another half hour, fuming, wondering
why he felt so threatened by the presence of another
attractive man in the household.  Surely Dana would not
throw him out of her bed so soon.  On the other hand, if he
was too sick to perform his husbandly duties, perhaps she
would seek her pleasure elsewhere.

He must become well, Fox decided, as quickly as possible. He
pulled himself to a sitting position, clutching at the night
stand when his balance threatened to leave him, and waited
for the wave of dizziness to abate.  When at last he felt
somewhat recovered, he rose on shaky legs and made his way
to the window.  Fresh air, he knew, would go a long way
toward helping his recovery.

Fox opened the window and drew in deep gulps of the outside
air, but the breeze was blowing from the wrong direction,
and none of the cleansing air would enter the room.
Finally, feeling braver on his feet, he made up his mind.
He would go outside for a walk.  Just a short one, he told
himself.  He wouldn't leave the main courtyard.  Surely Dana
wouldn't mind if he took a tiny little walk around the yard,
just to get some of his strength back.

Having reached a decision, Fox dressed quickly and left the
room at once, glancing up and down the corridor to make
certain he was not observed.  As he allowed the chamber door
to close silently behind him, he could hear Melvin's voice
coming from a few rooms down, rising and falling in cadence
as he explained the housekeeping duties to Alex. The younger
man's musical laughter suddenly rang out, and Fox tightened
his jaw jealously.  The new maid even had an attractive
laugh!  Feeling a bit like a limp dishrag, Fox crept down
the hall and through the massive doors that separated the
East Wing from the rest of the house.

Soundlessly, he slipped down the stairs, glaring at the
young cook's assistant who spotted him.  The boy, no more
than fourteen, gave Fox a look of sheer terror and scuttled
toward the kitchen.  Satisfied that his flight would not be
reported, Fox confidently opened the front door.

If he hadn't been glancing hurriedly over his shoulder, he
would have seen the tall, beautiful woman who stood on the
front steps, ready to enter the mansion, but instead Fox,
intent upon avoiding discovery, ran headlong into her.

"Oh!" he gasped when he collided with her firm body.  Her
hands went immediately to his waist, steadying him, and he
blushed at the intimacy of her touch even as he realized
without it he would have fallen.

"I'm--I'm sorry, I--"  Fox gazed at the vision of loveliness
before him and swallowed hard.  She was nearly as tall as
he, with a solidly built, strong body, which the military
style uniform she wore emphasized to perfection.  Her hair
was a bit darker than Dana's--almost brown with red
highlights.  Her eyes were the deepest blue he had ever
seen, and Fox stared into them, completely at sea for a few
moments.

The lady in question stared back at him, a small smile
hovering around her lips, and then gave him a slight bow.
She released him and stepped back, and he at last began to
breathe normally again.

"You must be Fox," she said in a voice that was soft and yet
strong all at once.  She raised his hand to her lips,
kissing his fingers gallantly, and Fox shivered.

"Welcome to the Scully family," she went on, looking him up
and down with amusement.  "I am Lady Melissa, Dana's older
sister."

Melissa!  Fox barely remembered Melissa from when they were
children.  She was at least ten years older than Dana, and
had left home to join the army almost before he was old
enough to be aware of what the army was.  He had a vague
recollection of a tall, gangly teenager, teasing him and
Dana mercilessly.

"You don't remember me," she commented, and Fox fought for a
modicum of composure.

"Of course I remember you, my lady," he answered shyly. "You
used to pull my hair!"

She threw back her head and laughed heartily, and Fox
thought her laughter the most beautiful sound he'd ever
heard, certainly much more so than that uppity maid Dana had
hired.  Her laugh was honest, true and open, and Fox felt
himself responding in kind.

"I did indeed," she replied.  "You would become quite
furious with me!  And now you are my sister's husband.  You
have grown up to be quite a beautiful man, Fox."

Fox lowered his gaze, embarrassed, but Melissa pressed on.

"Where are you sneaking off to in such a hurry?" she asked
in a conspiratorial tone.  "I saw you glancing behind to
make certain you weren't being followed."

Fox stared into her eyes, worried at first that she might
betray him, and relaxed when he saw nothing but calm
amusement in them.

"I wanted some fresh air," he confessed.  "I was a bit ill
this morning, and Dana told me to remain in bed, but the
room was quite stuffy..."

"And you were bored and thought you could get away with a
walk around the grounds without being detected," she
finished for him, and he nodded, giving her a shy smile.

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"Now why would I do that?" she asked, offering him her arm.
"Allow me to act as your escort, Lord Fox?"

"My--my pleasure," he stammered, accepting her assistance
gratefully.  "I'm afraid I am still a bit weak on my feet."

"We'll go slowly," she promised, and allowing him to lean on
her as they traversed the grounds, she soon had him in
stitches with talk of their younger days.

"I remember Dana was always quite jealous of you," she
commented.  "She nearly chopped off Elizabeth Knight's arms
when she learned Elizabeth had kissed you!"

Fox blushed.  "We were only children then," he murmured.  "I
couldn't have been more than seven."

"Ah, but my little sister has had her eye on you for years,"
Melissa told him.  "Somehow I always knew she would have you
if she could."

"Do you think she could ever..." Fox began, and stopped,
feeling foolish asking this great lady such a question.  Of
course Dana would never fall in love with him.  Ladies
simply cared for their husbands--they didn't love them.  A
husband was something to be shown off and petted, used for
pleasure, someone to raise the children and keep the house,
but a woman didn't fall in love.  It simply wasn't like a
Lady.

Melissa waiting for him to finish his unasked question, but
instead, he gasped and clutched at her arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned.

"I think perhaps I've overdone," he replied, his face going
a bit green.  "I'm afraid I'm going to be sick again."

"I'll help you upstairs," she told him, slipping her arm
around his waist for support.  He took another step and then
stumbled, and with a shake of her head, Melissa swung him up
into her arms, carrying him easily toward the house.  Fox
buried his face against her shoulder, uncomfortable at the
feeling of her breasts pressing into his side, yet too ill
to protest.

Dana, riding Thunder quickly up the drive, saw a man who
closely resembled her husband walking on the arm of a very
attractive woman.  Her eyes narrowed angrily when she
realized it *was* her husband.  'Damn it! What the hell is
he doing out of bed!' she raged inwardly.  'Is he
*incapable* of following my orders?'

Hurrying Thunder into the stable, she handed his reigns over
to a servant and strode purposefully toward the house,
slapping her crop angrily against her thigh.  Fox would
learn to obey her, she vowed, if it took the rest of his
life.  Oh, he might be too ill to punish tonight, but he
would most certainly be recovered within a day or two, and
then he would feel her displeasure.

She bounded up the stairs, tossing her cloak and gloves
aside carelessly, and threw open the door to her bed
chamber.  Her eyes took in the scene all at once, and Dana
felt her stomach tighten.

"Melissa," she stated flatly.

Her sister looked around at Dana from where she sat on the
bed beside Fox.  Fox lay on his back, his shirt pulled up to
reveal his bared stomach, and as Melissa spoke her hands
continued a slow, circular stroking motion on his skin.

"Hello, Dana," she greeted her sister.  "It's wonderful to
see you again."

"We didn't expect you," Dana said tersely.  "What are you
doing?"  She forced herself to remain calm, even though her
oh-so-modest husband was lying in her bed, his eyes closed,
allowing a strange woman to touch him intimately.

"Fox became ill again, so I am helping ease his discomfort,"
Melissa replied calmly, continuing her attentions.

Dana watched for another few seconds, and finally could
stand no more.  She strode over to the bed and jerked her
husband's shirt down to cover him.  Fox, who had slipped
into a state of near unconsciousness, started into complete
wakefulness.

"My--my lady--" he stammered, and she glowered down at him.

"You disobeyed me," she said in a deadly tone.  "You were
instructed not to leave your bed."

"He needed fresh air, Dana," Melissa interjected, but Dana
ignored her.

"I'll be the judge of what he needs," Dana replied, with
more than a touch of arrogance. "Such activity could have
only worsened the situation.  If he needed fresh air, he
should have opened the window."

Melissa rose, giving Fox an encouraging smile, and left the
room.  It was better to let Dana go ahead and vent her
anger.  She knew Dana wouldn't actually punish Fox now, not
in his condition, but her sister had always been headstrong
and Melissa had never been able to teach her patience.

"Well...I'll see you at dinner," she said quietly before
closing the door.

Dana gave an icy nod and waited while her sister left the
room.  Then she drew the curtain, dimming the brightness,
and lay down carefully beside Fox.  He opened one eye and
observed her.  His pale face was beautiful in the dim light,
and Dana felt herself softening toward him.  After all, she
reminded herself, Fox was still inexperienced in the ways of
women, and he had been ill.  He was not entirely to blame
for the situation with Melissa.

"How are you, sweeting?" she asked, softly caressing his
cheek.

"Better now, I think," he whispered, grateful that her anger
appeared to have dissipated for the moment.  "Lady Maggie
kept forcing me to drink her potions, but they wouldn't stay
down.  I just wanted to be left alone.  And then later, I
felt better, but I needed some air, and the window wasn't
sufficient--I just wanted to take a quick walk around the
grounds and I would have gone right back to bed, but I met
Melissa--I'm sorry I disobeyed you, my lady."

"Mother was only trying to help you, Fox," Dana sighed. "But
I know how you feel.  When I was young, and would fall ill,
she would do the same to me."

She thought she saw the ghost of a smile.

"As for your disobedience..."

He glanced up at her hopefully.

"We'll deal with that later."

She ignored his sigh, and went behind the screen to change.
"I hired a new maid this morning, have you met him?" she
called.

"Yes.  The little tramp," he added under his breath.

"Well, anyway," she said absently, missing the slight note
of jealousy in his voice, "what's important is that you
fulfill your duties as my husband. He'll be an upstairs
maid, and will care for this wing, including our chamber, so
you'd best meet with him as soon as you are feeling up to
the task, and inform him of any duties Melvin may have
neglected to mention."

"Yes, my lady," he replied grudgingly, and pulled himself to
a sitting position, leaning against the massive headboard.
His nausea seemed all but diminished at this point, since
Lady Melissa's intervention, and he savored the relief.  Fox
was rarely sick, and being forced to take to his bed due to
illness was unbearable.

Dana emerged from behind the dressing screen wearing a long,
flowing silk robe in a shade of midnight blue that caused
her eyes to glow, and Fox swallowed hungrily at the sight.
He hoped she would climb into the bed and take him at once,
but instead, she sat before her mirror and began stroking
through her long, red hair with her hairbrush. Mesmerized,
he watched the bristles slide through the hair, separating
each strand, and he could almost feel it slip between his
fingers, soft as a kitten's fur.

"What is it, Fox?" she asked, continuing to run the brush
through her hair.

"I--I want--"  He seemed at a loss for words, but Dana was
determined to make him say the words.  It was long since
time Fox got over his shyness about lovemaking, in her
opinion.

"What do you want?"

Rising from the bed, he crossed to where she sat and took
the brush from her fingers.

"May I, my lady?" he requested, and she nodded.  He began to
brush her hair, gently stroking the bristles from her scalp
to the end of the long red strands over and over.  Dana
leaned back, eyes closed, her expression blissful, and Fox
tended to her hair happily.  The softness of the wisps
between his fingers, combined with the faint scent of the
soap she used caused a hunger with which he had only
recently become acquainted begin to grow in him.  He made a
noise deep in his throat, and Dana opened her eyes, looking
up and smiling at the naked desire she saw on her husband's
face.

"What do you want?" she asked again, softly this time.

He bit his lip, knowing she wished him to voice his desire,
feeling lust and embarrassment warring within him.  "I want
you to.."

She waited, perfectly still, for him to finish.

"Make love to me, Dana.  Please."

His eyes were clenched tightly shut, but he had at last
spoken the phrase she wished to hear, and Dana took the
hairbrush from his limp fingers as she rose from her chair.
Fox opened his eyes when she turned to him, slowly allowing
her robe to slip over her shoulders and fall to the floor.

"It is the first time you've spoken of your desire for me,"
she said softly, laying her hand lightly on his cheek, and
he nestled his face into her palm.  "I am quite pleased."

He turned his face to brush his lips against her fingers,
while she stroked tenderly over their fullness.  Her hand
slid up to caress the back of his neck, and then he felt
himself pulled down, down, to drown in her lips, her eyes,
her sweetness.

Dimly, Fox realized she was leading him toward their bed,
and when she lay on her back and pulled him over her, he
smiled.  He loved when she took him like this--the feeling
of power and control, while he knew it to be false, was
heady and exciting.  She reached down to unfasten his
breeches, freeing his trapped rod eagerly.

"Now, Fox," she whispered in his ear, and without further
delay he plunged his throbbing manhood deep within her
softness, stroking in and out at her command, slower, then
faster, harder, deeper, until he was moaning with his own
need.  Just when he was certain he would not be able to
prevent spilling his seed for another second, she threw back
her head and made that animal growl that he adored, and
moments later he clutched her to himself as he reached his
own state of bliss.

Afterwards, as he lay panting with exertion beside her, she
stroked his flesh up and down, her soft fingers sending
chills up and down his spine.

"You are so lovely, my Fox," Dana whispered to him.  "I've
wanted you for this entire day."

"As have I, my lady," he replied sleepily, a bashful grin on
his face, and Dana smiled before kissing his lips tenderly.
She gently removed his shirt and untangled his breeches from
around his knees, tossing the clothing carelessly to the
floor.

"Sleep now," she instructed.  "Unless you wish food?"

He shook his head, almost asleep already.

"I'll be returning to our chamber quite late," she told him.
"I must write up some notes before I retire."

Quietly, she rose from the bed and cleaned herself, then
dressed and left the room, turning the lamp down to a mere
glimmer.  Fox lay innocently sleeping, his face so boyish in
the dim light that she shook her head wonderingly.  He was
such a contradiction, this husband of hers--shy and modest,
completely proper, and yet willing to be as wild as she
desired in her bed.  He was truly a prize, she decided,
making her way downstairs to the dining room, and she would
not let Melissa or anyone else take his attentions from her.

When Dana entered the dining room, the rest of the family
was already at table, and Maggie gave her a sly smile as she
slid into her seat.

"I was afraid you wouldn't be joining us, my dear," Maggie
remarked blandly, her eyes on her plate.  "How is Fox this
evening?"

"Tired," Dana said shortly, reaching for a slice of bread.
"He is sleeping and does not require a meal."

"He must eat," Melissa put in.  "He will need to maintain
his strength to keep up with you, little sister."

Dana stared at her, feeling the old jealousy trying to rear
its head and consciously suppressing it.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from a General in
the Queen's Guard?" she asked, politely ignoring her
sister's innuendo.

"I was due a leave," Melissa informed her, sprinkling salt
on her potatoes.  "I was sorry to have missed your wedding,
Sister, and yours, Mother.  When the opportunity arose, I
felt it was time to return home for a visit, in order to
meet the new men in the family."

She smiled disarmingly at Walter, who blushed becomingly and
dropped his gaze to his lap.

"I must say, you have both done quite well for yourselves,"
Melissa continued.  "Both Walter and Fox are very lovely and
charming."

"Yes," Maggie replied with a fond glance at her husband.
"Walter pleases me greatly.  He is an excellent host, and
keeps the estate accounts as competently as any woman."

Walter's blush deepened at her praise.  "Thank you, my
lady," he whispered, wishing the attention of the women
would become focused somewhere other than on himself.

Maggie, as if reading her husband's mind, switched the
conversation immediately.

"How is Lady Rogers?" she asked Dana, and Dana shook her
head sadly.

"She did not last the afternoon," Dana reported.  "I was
quite saddened, as were her daughters."

"And her husband?" Melissa asked casually.  "How did Lord
Rogers take the loss?"

"He was upset, as can be imagined," Dana said. "However, he
has three good daughters who will care for him. He need not
fear abandonment."

"It is not the fear of abandonment that causes Lord Rogers'
grief," Melissa said gently.  "I have met both Lady and Lord
Rogers frequently.  Franklin adored his wife."

"As is appropriate," Dana replied.  "A man should love his
wife, he should be devoted to her needs and her comfort."

"And how must a wife view her husband?" Melissa asked,
curious as to what Dana's response would be.

"A husband is a possession," Dana told her plainly.  "He
should strive to make himself as attractive and as agreeable
as possible, in order to reflect well upon his wife.  He
should be available whenever she wishes him, and make
himself unobtrusive when she does not.  In short, dear
sister, husbands should be seen and not heard."

Melissa shook her head slowly.  She had seen much of the
world in her travels with the Queen, and was wiser in the
ways of different cultures than Dana.  Dana, while she had
traveled a good bit in the military, had largely been in a
protected environment, full of dominant and strong women who
thought of men as little more than providers of their
entertainment.

"There are some societies where men and women are considered
equally important," Melissa informed them.

"Those societies must be on the verge of collapse!" Dana
snorted derisively.

"Indeed, no, they work quite well.  And this will truly gall
you, Sister, but I have even seen cultures where the *men*
are the rulers and providers, and women the subservient
ones."

Dana stared, disbelieving.

"Can such a society exist for long?" asked Maggie.  "Men
have not the knowledge or the emotional fortitude to run the
world.  They are meant for raising children and pleasing
women."

"The people of Godanza, in the heart of Africa, have lived
that way for generations," Melissa responded.  "I have seen
them myself.  The men run the town, and the women are the
ones who keep the homes and raise the children.  It's really
quite interesting."

"It sounds appalling," Dana growled, throwing down her
napkin and rising to her feet.  "If you will excuse me,
Mother, Melissa, I'm really quite fatigued."

"Of course, daughter," Maggie answered.  "It has been a
difficult day for you.  Is Fox quite over his illness?"

"Quite," Dana told her, nodding to Melissa and taking her
leave.

Walking toward the stairs, she gritted her teeth as she
heard her sister ask brightly, "So, Walter, what do you
think of a society where men are dominant?"

She was unable to hear his answer, but gave another angry
snort when both her mother and sister burst out in laughter.
Men in charge!  The very idea was ludicrous.  Dana
half-believed that Melissa made up these wild stories out of
her imagination, in order to take advantage of her mother
and sister's lack of world experience.

Melissa had always been the shining sun of the Scully
family, she reflected, shoving open the doors to the East
Wing, and she had always been but a dim star on the horizon
compared to her sister.  Dana had traveled the continent in
the army, but Melissa had actually mingled with the people
of the world, learning their cultures and languages.  While
Dana was successful in her chosen profession, Melissa was
one of only three Generals responsible for the Queen's
Guard--one of the highest, most prestigious positions in the
entire land.  And while Dana had always considered herself
adequately smart and adequately pretty, Melissa was
brilliant and beautiful.

Dana made her way to the salon in the East Wing, and spent
several hours writing her notes on Lady Rogers' case, as
well as a few others she had neglected recently.  She had
been spending entirely too much time concentrating on her
delectable new toy, she reflected, and not enough time
attending to business.

Her thoughts drifted back to the image of Fox lying in her
bed, his soft, smooth skin bared to Melissa's lingering
touch, and she felt herself growing angry all over again.

With a muttered curse, Dana rose and poured herself a
tankard of brandy, downing half of it in one gulp and
refilling it immediately.  She returned to her desk, forcing
her mind to focus on her notes, and was at last able to
complete them in something resembling a satisfactory manner.
It had taken much longer than it should have, due to her
current state of mind, and that fact angered her further.

Dana's mood darkened as she approached their bed chamber. It
was nearing ten o'clock, and she wasn't drunk, but she was
certainly seeing things more clearly, she told herself.

Fox had been laughing and clutching Melissa's arm earlier in
the day, and then, as modest as he was, he had bared his
flesh for Melissa to touch with her hands.  It was unlike
Fox, but apparently her sister's magic worked with all
manner of men.  Certainly Walter had become a blithering
fool when her attention was focused on him.

She threw open the chamber door, not even trying for
silence, and Fox sat up quickly in bed at her entrance.

Dana stared at Fox, looking beautiful and desirable in her
bed, an expression of wariness on his lovely face.

"Did--did you enjoy your supper, my lady?" he asked
tentatively, hoping to dispel her unexpected mood with
pleasant conversation.

"No," she said shortly.  "Melissa was relating foolish
nonsense of men dominating women."

Fox looked disbelieving.  "I should not like to dominate
you, my lady."

"That is good, husband, because you certainly never will,"
she replied firmly, eyeing his luscious form and feeling her
arousal stir again.  "You are no longer naked.  I am not
pleased."

Fox could see the desire in her eyes, and a slight fear
shook him.  He didn't know what he had done to bring on her
sudden anger, but he was afraid if she took him now, feeling
as she did, she would hurt him.

"Would you like a--a bath?" he asked, trying to mask the
desperation he felt.  "I could put in some of the soothing
oils you prefer.  You could relax..."

He trailed off as she continued to stare at him, and then
swallowed hard as she began to approach, stripping off her
clothing as she moved.

"A bath is not what I had in mind," she said pointedly,
moving beside him and seating herself on the bed.

Fox gripped the coverlet tightly, willing himself not to
move away from her like a frightened virgin, feeling his
heart pound in his chest as she drew nearer.

"Dana?" he asked tremulously before she pounced upon him,
seizing his face between her hands and kissing him roughly,
possessively, pressing her body against his until he could
feel her heat through the nightshirt he had donned earlier,
after she left him.

When at last she released his bruised and swollen lips, Fox
was breathless.  Dana pushed him back so that he was lying
on the bed, and in the next instant had secured his wrists
above his head with her stockings, tying them tightly to the
bed post.  She threw the coverlet aside and tugged on his
legs until he was lying across the bed at an angle, his
nightshirt pushed up almost to his waist.  Fox felt the
color creep up his face as Dana took in the sight of him,
starting at his toes and working her way slowly up his body
until her eyes came to rest on his face.

"You are mine," she said forcefully.  "No other woman will
ever have you."

"No, my lady," he whispered, mesmerized by the look in her
deep blue eyes.

"I intend to take you now," she informed him, "and make it
last for hours.  You will not find your release for a long
time tonight, my love, so prepare yourself.  Should you
allow your seed to spill before I say you may, it will go
very badly for you."

Fox nodded, his gaze still locked with hers, as slowly,
slowly, she bent toward him, running her tongue across his
neck, lapping at the hollow there, nibbling and biting his
ears, chin, shoulders.  He shivered beneath her assault,
feeling himself grow impossibly hard as she rubbed her hips
against his groin.  Before long he was panting with the
desire for her to take him, and with the effort of holding
back his release.

Dana took him slowly, kissing his body up and down, not
gently this time, not as a tender lover but as a wife bent
on expressing her domination over her husband.  She didn't
hurt him, but the torture she put him through caused him to
cry out his frustration again and again, and when she
finally sheathed him, slipping him inside her moistness, he
nearly wept with relief.

"Hold yourself!" she commanded, and he nodded again, biting
his lip, his brow furrowed with the concentration of giving
her as much pleasure as he was able while still denying his
own.

She rode him hard and fast, and soon he found himself
whimpering his need, begging her in almost incoherent
sentences to please allow him to find his release, please
put him out of this torment, and at last she clenched her
muscles tightly around him and he knew he could hold back no
longer, and with a relief so great he cried out with it, he
lost himself in her, hearing her whispered, "Now!" and
obeying immediately, thrusting upwards into her sweet body
again and again and again until he was completely drained,
both of his seed and his energy.

He had barely come back to his senses when she climbed off
him, reaching for a washing cloth and dipping it into the
water in the basin.

"That was very satisfying to me," she said calmly, cleaning
herself and straightening her clothing while he looked on,
still panting for breath.  "You have served me well, Fox."

Fox tried hard to ignore his disappointment at her words,
comforting himself with the notion that it was simply her
manner of speaking, that she did care for him in some way,
at least.  It was difficult not to feel like a mere object
when she spoke thusly, but truly, she could not think of him
as merely a body to warm her bed, not after the tenderness
with which she'd treated him over the last few days.  Dana
was simply spirited and commanding, certainly fine qualities
for a woman to have.  After all, he couldn't expect tender
kisses and loving words every single time she took him.

Suppressing a small sigh, he tugged at the stocking that
still held his wrists bound, feeling the numbness that came
of being tied for too long beginning to set in.

"Hold still," Dana ordered, approaching him with another
cloth, and he lay there silently as she cleaned him off and
pulled his nightshirt back to his knees.  "You look almost
modest again," she said with a cold smile, cocking her head
to one side.  "No one would know that earlier this
afternoon, you had revealed your body to my sister."

He gasped at her accusation.  "But my lady, she was only--"

"I know what Melissa was doing," Dana interrupted smoothly.
"She claims her massages calm the belly, but in truth she
only wanted to get her hands on your pretty white flesh, and
you allowed it, even with all your virginal modesty.  I have
just demonstrated to you who is your mistress, and I will do
so as often as necessary until I know that you believe it
without a doubt."

"I wish no mistress but you, my lady!" he declared, tears
beginning to form in his wide eyes.  "In truth, I would
never dishonor you.  Lady Melissa told me she could help,
and I--I--"

"You allowed her to touch you intimately."

He flushed, closing his eyes in shame at the memory.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Fox's eyes flew
open, his neck arching to look up at his still bound wrists.

"My lady, please," he beseeched.  "I beg of you, release me.
I do not wish to be seen like this by the servants."

For a moment, he thought she would deny his request in order
to further punish him, but after a second her eyes softened
almost imperceptibly, and she untied the stocking with a
flourish.  Dana missed the look of gratitude on her
husband's face as she turned away to answer the door.

"My lady?"

She stared up at Alex Krycek.

"Yes?" she replied brusquely.  "You should be abed, Alex."

"Will you be requiring my...services this evening?" he
asked, and there was no mistaking the suggestion in his
tone.  His shirt was open to the waist, revealing a strong,
well defined chest, and Dana felt desire wash over her, even
after her recent lovemaking with Fox.

"Perhaps another time," she told him, as her mind returned
to the man that waited in her bed.  Alex was beautiful, but
Fox was even more so, and she found his modesty and
bashfulness preferable to the overtures of the new maid.
"You may retire."

"Yes, my lady," he said, and she was certain she heard
blatant seduction in his voice.  "Some other night."

Before she could close the door fully, a firestorm erupted
behind her and Fox flew to the door, dodging her completely,
taking a swing at an unsuspecting Alex.

He'd overheard the conversation, and on the heels of Dana's
treatment of him, it was simply more than he could bear.
With a sound he later realized shamefully had sounded almost
like a growl of pure rage, he knocked the hapless maid to
the floor in a heap.  Alex, taken by surprise, did not try
to defend himself at first, as Fox landed blow after blow of
his fists on the man's face and stomach.

Dimly, through his fury, Fox was aware of his Lady calling
to him to leave off, and of the sound of running footsteps
approaching, but he was beyond reason.  He pummeled the
pretty maid mercilessly, receiving a few good knocks from
Alex's fists as well, but strengthened by his anger, Fox had
his opponent at a disadvantage.

Almost before the brawl had begun, Fox felt strong hands
grasping him and lifting him off Alex.  Struggling
furiously, completely out of control, he continued throwing
curses at the younger man while kicking uselessly at the one
who held him.

He did not calm himself until he realized Dana was standing
before him, a tiny package of redheaded rage.  At last, her
words began to sink through his consciousness, and he
perceived that he was in enormous trouble.

"Fox Scully, you will STOP this disgrace this instant!" she
thundered, holding up one fist to his chin, and although he
was fairly certain she wouldn't actually throw a punch at
him, Fox ceased his struggles immediately. Gradually, taking
in the scene, he realized that Walter was the one holding
him so firmly captive.  Lady Maggie stood behind Dana, and
the corridor suddenly seemed full of servants.  Apparently
the entire household had been summoned by the brawl.

"How dare you shame me in this manner?" Dana continued,
disregarding the presence of the others until her mother
spoke.

"Daughter, what is this about?" demanded Maggie sternly. "We
were ready to retire for the evening when suddenly there
appeared to be complete mayhem!"

His eyes still spitting fire, Fox continued to glare at
Alex, his chest heaving with his panting breaths.

Dana stared at him for a long moment, ignoring her family,
and the crowd fell completely silent, except for the cooing
sounds a couple of the female servants were making over Alex
as they tended his injuries.  Finally, stepping closer to
him, she spoke.

"If you are going to act like a wild animal, you shall be
treated as one," she said deliberately.  His eyes widened in
fear as he looked at her for the first time, and realized
just what he had done.  He felt the breath leave his body
all at once when she continued, "Roberta, Sarah, take him to
the dungeon and put a collar around his neck.  Shackle him
to one of the rings in the wall.  We shall see how this wild
Fox takes to being chained up like a dog."

His eyes could only see Isaac, naked and dying in the rain,
as he numbly allowed the servants to lead him away. Vaguely,
still horrified at his own behavior, he was aware of voices
behind him, and he flinched when Dana shouted again.

"Silence!  I will not be told in my own home how I should
deal with my husband!"

"What have I done?" he moaned quietly to himself, his head
bowed in abject shame.

"Don't worry, my lord Fox," whispered Sarah as she and
Roberta, flanked by two more servants, led him down the
stairs.  "It isn't *really* a dungeon. Well, it used to be,
years ago, but now it's merely an empty room down cellar.
All the torture devices are gone now."

Fox didn't know whether to be relieved or not--after all,
Dana hadn't mentioned torturing him, but she was more
furious than he had ever seen her.  He wondered how long she
would leave him chained in the dungeon.  Surely--surely she
wouldn't leave him there to die, as Lady Fowley had done
with Isaac?  Dana was angry, but she wasn't needlessly
cruel.  If she was tired of him, and wished to take another
to her bed, she would simply have him relegated to another
area of the mansion.

His eyes filled with tears at the sharp pain through his
heart.  The thought of the new maid in his lady's bed was
more painful than the idea of being chained up like Isaac.
And why?  He had to ask himself what he had been thinking,
attacking Alex like that.  After all, even if he did not
like the idea, it was his lady's privilege to take any man
she wished.

Directly behind his confusion came anger, at himself, Alex
and even Dana.  She had practically raped him to stake her
claim, simply because Lady Melissa had tried to help him,
and yet when another man offered himself to her, Fox was
expected to sit idly by and do nothing?  It was not to be
endured!

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and
tried desperately to block out the image of Dana, her head
thrown back in that animal way of hers, riding Alex with the
tenderness and enthusiasm with which she had taken him.  She
wouldn't.  She simply wouldn't.  Would she?

He barely noticed their descent, until they stood before a
heavy iron door.  They had reached a seldom-used area of the
cellar, far from the places where wine and food were stored,
and Fox shivered.  It was very dark, and the smell of mold
and mustiness was strong.

He watched, transfixed, as Roberta inserted a large key into
the door, turning it with some difficulty, and flinched at
the creaking sound the hinges made when it was finally swung
open.

The room was smaller than their bedchamber, and Fox could
see, through the dim light cast by the servants' torches,
that there were iron rings embedded in the walls at various
intervals.  One wall had rusty manacles in four positions,
and he shuddered as he realized that men must have been
fastened there, hanging uncomfortably, their feet well off
the floor, while untold tortures were inflicted upon their
bodies. He could almost feel the iron biting into his wrists
as he imagined himself there, perhaps being whipped, or
possibly subjected to the hot coals or branding irons that
so many used to endure in the days when torture of
disobedient men was a common occurrence.  He realized, with
a detached clarity, that his father had possibly been
subjected to it, and most definitely his grandfathers.  The
practice was not that long in the past.

He barely noticed Sarah approaching him with the steel
collar until she slipped it around his neck, fastening it
securely with a large lock.  It was heavy, and the reality
of his situation was suddenly brought home to him when a
chain was attached to one of the rings, then to his collar.
He was an animal, chained away to be forgotten while his
lady took someone younger and prettier to amuse her.

"Please--please don't leave me here!" he begged, feeling the
tears beginning to slip down his face, but the servants
ignored him, retreating, their eyes downcast, for they, too,
were shocked and uncomfortable with the situation.  None of
them could remember a time when a man had been imprisoned in
the Scully dungeon, but they had all heard tales of the old
days.

"Please!  Not in the dark!  I can't stand the dark!"  He
fell to his knees in desperation, and Roberta, the last to
leave, turned back at his pleading.  The raw terror in his
voice touched her, and with a glance at the door to be sure
they were alone, she placed the torch she carried in a
sconce on the wall.

"I don't know how long it will burn," she whispered, "but
I'll bring another when I come with your supper."

"I'm not hungry."

"But you have had nothing all day.  Although it is quite
late, my lady will insist that you have a meal," she
laughed. "I'm certain of it."

He nodded gratefully, and tried not to lose what remained of
his composure as the door clanged shut and the key scraped
in the lock.  So he was to be fed, at least.  How long would
Dana leave him here?  Would one night be a sufficient
punishment in her eyes, or--

He gasped aloud at the thought that she might never release
him at all.  Perhaps the rest of his life was to be spent in
this damp, cold room, dependent upon the meals and whatever
light he could beg from the servants.  He supposed he was
lucky Dana hadn't simply given him over to the servants, to
be their resident toy, but who would stop them if they chose
to take advantage while he was here, helpless, and out of
sight and hearing of the rest of the household?  Dana didn't
want her sister touching him, or another woman taking him to
her bed, and yet she tolerated the servants groping and
touching him--indeed, when he'd been in the stocks one
particularly bold kitchen maid had even taken him in her
mouth!

It was all too confusing, and Fox slowly leaned back against
the cold wall, shivering as the chill penetrated his thin
clothing.  He was still in his night shirt, his feet bare,
and he shivered, envisioning rats and spiders, wondering
what type of creepy-crawlies shared this dungeon with him.

Hopelessly, he pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his
arms around them, and prayed that Dana would not forget he
existed.

-----

"Alex, you deserve to be flogged!"

"But--my lady--" His eyes widened in fear.

"I have no intention of taking you or anyone else to my
bed," Dana raged, "and you had no right to suggest as much.
You forget your place.  You will endeavor to remember it in
future."

"Yes, my lady," he whispered.  "I am sorry."

"Clean my chamber immediately," she said coldly.  "Perhaps,
if you do a satisfactory job, I shall forget to order that
you be punished for your insolence."

"Yes, my lady," Alex replied, humbled, and waited behind as
Lady Dana left the room, followed closely by Lady Maggie,
Lady Melissa and Walter.  When he was alone, he glared about
the room, which was in a terrible mess.  It was his job to
clean it up, never mind the fact that Fox had been the cause
of most of the disarray.

"Never mind," he told himself as he righted a chair and
began picking up scattered articles from the table.  "I will
get my own on Lord Fox Scully in due time.  And meanwhile,
I'll do my best to work my way into his lady's good graces.
And her bed."

-----

"Dana, I do believe you were a bit harsh on Fox," Melissa
objected as they entered an upstairs salon. "He is Lord
Scully the Younger, after all, and is deserving of respect
for his position.  The servant was quite forward."

"That is beside the point, Sister," Dana argued.  "I will
not have my husband act in such a manner."  Her eyes still
flashed with anger, although her manner was calm, and she
noted with some amusement that Walter kept his own head
down, his attention focused firmly on his feet.

Feeling a bit of mischievousness, she questioned, "What do
you think, Walter?  Was I too stern with Fox?"

He gulped and raised his head, carefully concealed panic in
his eyes.  With Lady Dana's current state of mind, he feared
one mis-step might land him in the dungeon next to Fox.  He
only prayed that Maggie would intervene in such an instance.

"I would not wish anyone to be in such a situation, my
lady," he answered at last, his tone conveying calm reserve.
"Fox, however, is yours to do with as you please."

"An excellent response," Dana commented, ignoring the
feeling of guilt that nagged at her conscience. She refused
to allow her mother and sister to see the concern she was
feeling for poor Fox, all alone down there in that dark,
cold dungeon. The last thing Dana wanted was to appear weak
in front of Melissa.

She wondered with a pang of compassion if Fox feared the
darkness, realizing how little she truly knew about her
husband.  Already she regretted her hasty actions, but to
withdraw the punishment now would lessen her stature in the
eyes of her family, the servants, and worst of all, Fox
himself.  She could, however, reduce the length of his
sentence down below. After all, she had told no one that her
initial intention had been to leave him there for at least a
week.  Now--well, perhaps three days would be sufficient.

-----

Once Alex had completed restoring her chamber to rights,
Dana dismissed him curtly and paced the bedroom floor,
wondering at herself and her harshness.  It was unlike her
to be so cruel, meting out a punishment far in excess of
what had actually been earned.  It puzzled her, that she had
reacted so strongly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another knock at the door,
this one tentative and soft.  Dana swore angrily under her
breath, convinced that if it was another servant offering
himself to her, she would have the silly ass flogged at
once.

Instead, she was taken aback to see her step-father standing
outside her chamber, his face calm and impassive.

"Yes, Walter?"

"My lady, I should like your permission to go to Fox," he
said gravely.  "I'm certain he must be overly frightened,
and if you would permit me, I should like to reassure him."

She stared at him, surprised at his unexpected show of
compassion toward her husband, and quickly realized that it
would be a way of softening the blow to poor Fox without
appearing to capitulate.

"Does Mother know you are here?" she asked suspiciously.

Walter looked shocked at her question.  "But of course, my
lady!"

"Yes, you may go to him," she allowed at last.  "But you are
not to release him."

"Thank you, my lady," he replied quietly.

"Walter," she said hurriedly, holding out her hand for him
to wait.  Opening a chest beside the bed, she withdrew an
old but comfortable quilt.  "Give him this.  I'm certain
he's cold."

He stared at her for a moment, as if not believing her
generosity, then took the quilt with a smile.  "Thank you,
my lady," he said again, and turned to go.

"Walter."

He stopped, and she stood indecisively for a moment, then
pushed on.  "You needn't mention the quilt came from me."

With an inward smile, Walter inclined his head gracefully
and left her.

Later, climbing into her bed, missing his strong arms and
the sweetness of his company, she reconsidered.  Three days
was also three nights, and she had no wish to spend three
nights alone.  Since she had no desire for any other man at
this time, she told herself, perhaps one night would be
enough to get the message through to Fox that she was not to
be trifled with.  Yes, he was a bright young man.  Surely
one night in the dungeon would be sufficient.  She was of
half a mind to go and get him now, telling him that she
wished his company, but quickly rejected the idea.  He did
deserve punishment, and to appear weak was a crime of the
largest magnitude in the eyes of a Scully woman.  Fox would
remain downstairs tonight, and she would release him just
after lunch.

Or perhaps breakfast.

-----

Fox expected Sarah would be the one to bring his supper, but
instead, Walter appeared carrying a small loaf of bread and
a goblet of water, a quilt flung over his shoulder.

He gazed up at Walter with wide, hurt eyes when the door
opened, and Walter's glance immediately  went to the torch
in the sconce, burned almost to nothingness by now.

"Please don't take it away," Fox implored, hugging his knees
tightly to himself.

"Of course I won't," Walter replied, settling the quilt
around the younger man's shoulders.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, accepting the bread and
water.  "Have you an idea when I am to be released?"

Walter shook his head.  "I do not know.   Lady Dana is
fearsome angry."

"She was right to anger," Fox said softly.  "I should not
have attacked the new maid."

Walter's jaw tightened momentarily.  "A decent man would
not have baited you so.  And Dana was too harsh, but that is
her right as your lady."

Fox nodded, eyes downcast, and Walter raised an eyebrow.

"Why did you attack him?" he asked curiously.

Fox flushed, chewing a mouthful of bread.  "I was...taken
aback," he finally confessed.  "And he offered himself to
Dana without shame or hesitation!  He was very attractive,
and I--I feared my lady would find his company preferable to
mine."

"Some would say he did nothing wrong," Walter observed.

"And what do you say, Walter?"

Walter sighed.  "As difficult as it may be for you to
accept, Fox, many people would agree that he was right to
offer his services to Lady Dana while you are ailing."

"Perhaps," Fox argued, rebellion flashing in his eyes, "but
he was rude to do it so blatantly, and in my very presence.
I may be only a man, Walter, but I am still Lord Scully, and
as such outrank a mere male servant in status."

"It was unkind," Walter agreed, "and Lady Melissa said as
much.  However, it is your lady's decision to take another
man to her bed, not yours.  Perhaps when you're better, she
would like to have two such pretty men in her bed at once."

Fox stared at Walter, horror in his eyes, and the older Lord
Scully's impish grin faded.  "Fear not, Fox.  I was merely
teasing you.  I think Lady Dana is more caring of your
feelings than you suspect."

With that, Walter took his leave, and Fox swallowed another
few bites of the bread before his appetite fled.  He
snuggled gratefully into the warm quilt, wondering if Dana
knew Walter had brought it to him.  He hoped Walter didn't
suffer for his kindness.

He leaned against the wall, taking deep, slow breaths, and
occasionally sipping a bit of the water, as his mind
continued to replay the events of the evening.  Eventually,
considering his own behavior, Fox grew hot with shame.

He had acted like a common, ragged street urchin, he
realized with remorse, not a well-bred man of the nobility.
He had shamed both his wife and his mother with his actions.
As unfair as the world might be, it was most assuredly his
lady's right to take her pleasure with Alex Krycek if she
chose.  Fox was at a loss as to why his heart felt rent in
two at the idea of Dana lying naked in Alex's arms, her soft
hair caressing his stomach, her mouth wrapped around his
manhood, pleasuring him in ways that made Fox scream with
passion.

Tortured by the images in his imagination, Fox curled into
as tight a ball as he could manage, cradling his head in the
crook of one arm, and finally, shivering, fell into a
troubled sleep.

-----

"I wish to die now," Fox moaned, squinting when the door
opened and Sarah's torch lit the now pitch-black room. The
light from the previous evening had long since burnt out,
but Fox had been unaware, deep in his nightmares, and it was
the nausea that had jarred him awake.

His sickness had returned during the night, exacerbated by
the musty smell of the dungeon.  He had retched a time or
two but his stomach had been completely empty by then, and
nothing had emerged but a few drops of bile.  Exhausted by
the effort, Fox had collapsed, resting his cheek against the
cold floor, and had been almost uncaring when the door swung
open.

Sarah carried a tray with a real breakfast this time, not
just bread and water, and she expected Lord Fox to be
pleased.  His reaction surprised her.

"Take it away!" he begged, covering his nose to block out
the smell of the tasty porridge.  "Please.  I wish no food."

Smiling sympathetically at his condition, Sarah deposited
the tray outside the door, then replaced the spent torch
with her bright one and helped Fox to a sitting position.

"There now, my lord, you're not going to die," she soothed,
rubbing his trembling hands.

"I just want to feel well again, and to get warm," he
complained.  "And I want out of here," he added petulantly.

"Well, my lady is fond of you," she comforted.  "I would not
be surprised if this is your last day in the dungeon."

"Fond of me?" he asked eagerly, showing more animation than
she expected.  "Do--do you really believe she is?"

Sarah smiled again.  "Of course she is, my lord.  Who could
know you and not care for you?"

He stared at her uncertainly.  "You don't mean that you--"

"Oh no, of course not," she laughed.  "Although naturally,
as Lord Scully, I have a duty to see to your well-being."

"Thank you," he replied faintly.

"There, now, what is the matter?"

Fox fidgeted for a moment, twisting his fingers together
nervously, before finally blurting out his worst fear.

"Did my lady take that--that man to her bed last night?" he
demanded anxiously.  "Please, Sarah, tell me the truth!"

It was Sara's turn to stare.  "Why my lord Fox," she
breathed.  "One might think you've fallen in love with her!"

"That is nonsense!" he snapped.  "We barely know one
another.  And besides, how could I love someone who would
imprison me in this dungeon for no more crime than
correcting a servant?  A male one, at that!"

He was so absorbed in his denial that he barely heard Sarah
reassuring him that it was perfectly normal that he should
fall in love with his lady, that it was to be expected, that
it was an honor to Lady Dana to have her husband care for
her.

At last, offering him the food once more and being soundly
refused, Sarah took her leave and Fox was able to examine
his own feelings more closely.  At first he firmly denied to
himself that what he felt for his lady wife was any more
than mere affection, and gratitude that she had, for the
most part, been kind to him.

After all, she had protected him from Lady Fowley, she had
refused to take Samantha away from him, and she had ways of
making him scream with pleasure that caused him to blush at
the thought, even here alone in this dungeon room.

On the other hand, her voice was pure sweetness to him--at
least when it was not raised in anger.  Her smile was more
effective than sunshine at brightening his day.  Her skin
was as soft as the finest silk, and her laughter--

Fox sighed, and buried his head in his hands.  Could it be
true, then?  Had he fallen in love with his wife, a woman
who felt nothing more than desire and fondness for him, and
who, at this moment, was furiously angry with him?

He felt shame wash over him yet again at the memory of his
behavior.  In spite of his protests to Walter and Sarah, Fox
knew his actions bespoke a childhood spent in the gutter,
not the gentle rearing and teaching which he had known.  If
he had voiced his objections to Dana, alone in the privacy
of their chamber, perhaps she would have reassured him that
she would never abandon him, never banish him from her bed
in favor of a prettier man.  Instead, he had spent the night
here, tormented by the images of Alex in her bed, pleasing
her.  Alex was probably no virgin, he thought sadly.  He
would know a multitude of ways to please a lady, ways which
would make Fox cringe with embarrassment.

But what could he do?  Had he burned his bridges behind him?
Would Dana ever forgive him his impulsive behavior?

Raising his head proudly, Fox stared straight ahead.  He was
Fox Mulder Scully, Lord Scully the Younger, and until his
lady removed him from her household, he had a position to
maintain.

He would change his ways, he vowed.  He would put aside the
reckless impulses that had been a part of his character
since boyhood and become a model husband. His conduct would
be above reproach in every way, starting--well, starting
when Dana let him out of this prison.

And then maybe, if he was good enough, perhaps she would
learn to care for him as more than a simple possession.  He
didn't dare hope that she would come to love him, but
perhaps she would regard him in greater esteem.

The answer was plain.  He would simply have to be perfect.