Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Another very naughty nobleman: what Emily is up to

My highlander-book in progress has given me another chance at a character-type I love to write: the completely debauched nobleman.

Lord Roderick, when he discovered that no one could tell him whether Lady Alice Lourcy were alive or dead, decided that the only way to compose himself was to punish all the maids. Accordingly, he sent for Mrs. Grant.

"I am dissatisfied with the general cleanliness of the castle, Mrs. Grant," he said. "If you please, I should like to have a general correctional session here in my library on the morrow."

Mrs. Grant blanched. It had been several years since the last general correction session, and Roderick could tell that his housekeeper had hoped there would not be another one.

"Yes, My Lord," she said hesitantly. "And… the… details?"

"The same as last time. The girls to be paraded without their clothing through the castle, before dinner, then brought to the library and made to form a queue for their whippings, which I shall give here over my desk."

Mrs. Grant seemed even more reluctant to speak, now. "And… afterward, My Lord?"

"Yes, Mrs. Grant. The same. The rest of the maids turned with their bottoms to me, while Alana and another girl shall attend my pleasure." It had been Catriona at the last of these sessions.

"My Lord, I beg you…"

Roderick sighed. "Mrs. Grant, is not the general correction a tradition of this house?"

"Yes, My Lord, but…"

"But what, Mrs. Grant?"

"The times have changed, My Lord!" Mrs. Grant burst out.

Roderick felt hot anger fill his chest. He rose from behind his desk. "Indeed they have, my good woman, and much for the worse. The Lord of Lormoran did not have to answer to his servants for his pleasures, in the old days."

Mrs. Grant quailed back. "I only mean… My Lord, I wish to protect you and your name! The people in the village are talking."

"Have they not always talked, Mrs. Grant? Have they not then always learned to be silent, when the Lord of Lormoran wished to enjoy himself?"

"Yes, My Lord, but that was because they knew your father, and your grandfather, would take their own daughters to the castle."

Those were the grand days, Roderick thought, then, and though his anger burned hotter to have Mrs. Grant allude to his present weakness in comparison to the powers of his forebears, he felt rather wistful, too. When he had been eighteen years of age, and his father had been in the prime of life, the general correction had always been followed by a grand debauch after dinner. Roderick himself had fucked his first maid at just such a debauch, as his father looked on in approval.

For another fun example of this character-type, try Her True Lord's Claim!

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