Lady Dashwood is kidnapped on horseback by the wickedly handsome Lord Ramsay. Her kidnapper means to hold her captive, to force her brother to return Ramsay’s infirm sister, whom he tricked into marriage. If Andrew does not return Lord Ramsay’s sister, then Pamela Dashwood will be sold to the scandalous Lord Simon for revenge.
Unexpectedly, Lord Ramsay finds himself determined to possess the feisty, beautiful heiress, but Pamela is defiant and equally determined to quench her burning desire for her abductor.
Unaccustomed to not having his way, Lord Ramsay administers a healthy dose of bare bottom spanking to his charge and discovers that she is more than willing to submit to his mastery. Can he resolve his dispute with Andrew in time to save her from Lord Simon? Will any of them find their happy ending?
Publisher’s Note: Kidnapped and Disciplined was originally published by Noble Romance and was available on Amazon and elsewhere from them from June – August 2013. This is a re-release of that title, so if you bought the Noble Romance version between those dates, please do not re-buy.
North of London, 5th December, 1812
Our pursuers were gaining on us. The coachman did his best to outrun them, but I feared for our lives as our carriage swayed from side to side. I held on to the side and prayed we would be delivered from the highway robbers. I did not hold much hope for their civility with two women travelling alone in the afternoon as the winter sun was lowering in the sky. My companion Rosalind began to cry. She clutched at me, burying her head against my shoulder. I put my arm around her and held her tight, as much for my own comfort as for her own.
But we were not to escape. Hearing the gallop of a horse, I strained to look out of the carriage window. A young gentleman of birth rode past the window. I viewed him with reproof, but he smiled wickedly at me. My temper overwhelmed my fear, and with good cause I may add.
I heard the sound of other horses, and the carriage slowed down. I could hear shouting, and then we came to an abrupt stop. Rosalind let out a sob. I urged her to be quiet and pressed myself back in my seat, setting my mind upon an escape, should I be able to find the means. Perhaps the ruffians would steal our belongings and have nothing to do with us. But I was being foolish; I would just have to face the thieves with courage.
I heard the coachman and the boy who travelled on top with him do their best to protect us. They shouted and struggled with the men, but when pistols were aimed at them, they were forced to halt their valiant fight and accept their defeat. Rosalind sobbed loudly, and none of my entreaties for her to stop snivelling bore any success. One of the men dismounted his horse. When I moved towards the door to alight and confront our pursuers, Rosalind pleaded with me to stay still. I decided not to distress her any further for fear she would be the cause of injury to herself with the ruffians. My heart pounded and ached as footsteps approached the carriage door.
A handsome face appeared at the window to command my attention. “Lady Pamela Dashwood, I presume.”
The young man who had passed the carriage earlier opened the door. I could not help feeling both surprise and concern that he already knew my name and title. I grew suspicious that he had more than highway robbery on his mind, and I was likely to be singled out for some crime. I had heard of young men capturing heiresses like myself and forcing them into marriage. I was determined this would not happen to me. “And who asks for me, sir?”
“Lord Peter Ramsay, at your service, Lady Dashwood.”
I widened my eyes, watching him tilt his hat in mock service. He opened the carriage door without further haste and offered me his hand.
“Now, please allow me to help you from the carriage, madam.”
“No, I will not, sir. What is the meaning of this? Why have you run down my carriage and frightened my companion? What do you want?”
Dismayed that I had raised my voice with sudden trembling anger, I held Rosalind even tighter.
Lord Ramsay gave an impatient sigh. “So many questions, Lady Dashwood. I will answer them all when you remove yourself from the carriage. Please take my hand and let me help you and your companion to alight.”
The stranger possessed a soft, velvet voice, deep with firm masculine command. I felt his words subdue and counsel my urge to disobedience. Alarmed that he should have such power over me, I resolved to resist. “No.”
I made certain that my tone was forceful, although it probably served me no good in the situation. Still, I am a stubborn girl, and I would not show him any fear.
“Madam.” Lord Ramsay spoke louder, but still he maintained an effort to be civil. “If you do not alight, I will remove you myself and throw you over my knee and give you a good sound spanking on your bare bottom. Am I understood?”
“Really, I . . . .”
“Do as I instruct, or I will be forced to act.”
His sternness left me in no doubt he meant to carry out his threat. I simply stared at him, stunned he would dare to even speak his intention to inflict such a scandalous punishment upon me.
The stranger gave me a dark look. To my surprise, I could not stop myself from catching my breath. His threatening appearance was deeply attractive. Leaning into the carriage, he reached for my waist, circling it firmly in his grip. There was to be no escape. Forced to release the sobbing Rosalind, I quickly found myself outside the carriage. He towered above me in height, making my small stature a clear disadvantage, but I would not be deterred, and I continued to berate him for his actions. Lord Ramsay shook his head and was quick in bending his legs to pull me up over his strong, broad shoulder. I struggled, fiercely outraged at the vulnerable position in which he now placed me.
“I will do as you ask. There is no need for violence. Put me down Lord Ramsay.”
But he was to ignore me. He carried my struggling form around the carriage, much to the great amusement of the five men who accompanied him on horseback. Three of them remained on their horses, aiming pistols at the coachman and young boy. Lord Ramsay was to take me from the road into the woods. Afraid for my life and virtue, I begged him not to hurt me.
“Hush, little one. I mean no harm other than to discipline you with a spanking. You may even like it.” He chuckled.
“No, I will not allow you to spank me, sir,” I insisted, but I knew inwardly the man could scarcely be entreated to manners after stopping my carriage like a highwayman. Perhaps he was one.
Lord Ramsay suddenly stopped. “Yes, this will do well.”
I found myself lowered to the ground but still held firmly by the arm. I gave a startled gasp at the speed with which he sat down upon a tree stump and pulled my arm to force me bent over his knee. The man wasted no time in lifting my thin muslin dress up around my waist. His movements were gentle but methodical. He carefully pulled my drawers down to my knees to expose my bottom to the chilly early December air. I had not been spanked since I was a child and did not wish to experience it again. I was no longer an errant child, but Lord Ramsay appeared to think otherwise. I renewed my struggles with vigour when I felt his large male palm softly settle on one of my naked buttocks. His response was swift. He pushed his other palm into my back with enough strength to hold me still and keep me down whilst his leg trapped my own. I was held fast. His hand caressed my bottom tenderly.
“Such a beautiful, fleshy and well-shaped bottom.” His voice was a low, soft velvet caress, easing my fear and lulling me into a false sense of security. “I have not seen one like it on a woman for a while. I am looking forward to watching it quiver and jump when I strike it. A healthy blush of pink from a good hard spanking will enhance its beauty.”
I was about to open my mouth and protest, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him raise his hand high. Tensing with anticipation, I shut my eyes tight, awaiting the sting of his hand across my bare, vulnerable buttocks. He was not to disappoint me. I shrieked with the shock of such burning pain. I did indeed feel my bottom jump and quiver with each strike of his firm, disciplining hand. He struck each buttock harder and harder, one blow after another in quick succession until tears sprang forth hotly from my eyes and I sobbed like a babe. His hand then moved swiftly to the backs of my thighs and struck.
“Well, well, Lady Dashwood, I believe you are enjoying your punishment. You are wet,” he told me softly, gentle amusement playing underneath his tone.
My attention drifted to the unexpected dampness between my thighs. I was a virgin but no stranger to feeling aroused by my own ministrations, and I felt a mixture of shock and surprise that Lord Ramsay?s beating of my bottom had induced it. The very notion sparked pleasure and a sudden heavy ache and need I had never felt the likes of before. My sex pulsed and throbbed. I began to move my pussy restlessly against his breeches in a vain attempt to still it, lifting my buttocks unawares to meet every strike. Breathing hard, I felt my pleasure build to a quickening, but it was soon to diminish when Lord Ramsay ceased my punishment. I heard him laugh and then felt him stroke my bottom tenderly again. The skin burned and stung. Not even the cool air could ease my soreness. His fingers caressed the red backs of my thighs. “A sound spanking suits you, Lady Dashwood. I would dearly like to paddle your bottom. Perhaps in time.”
I whimpered, feeling both pain and need grip me. I desperately required satisfaction and wished he would leave me to tend to myself, but Lord Ramsay was to take pity on me.
“Hush,” he whispered, slipping his fingers between my thighs and into the overflowing wetness seeping from my sex. I had never been touched this way by a man before. Shamefully, I craved it. Lord Ramsay stroked the small bud hanging ripe from my pussy to soothe my painful ache, which throbbed in unison with my beaten buttocks. “I will tend to your ache, Lady Dashwood. You have earned a little pleasure from taking your spanking so well.”
Slowly he moved a finger inside me and thrust it deeply. I lifted my hips to accommodate his progress. For a moment, he halted his progress. “You are a virgin, Lady Dashwood. I did not expect it. I will be gentle with you.”
He began to thrust his finger in and out, stretching and opening me to the cool air and whoever might happen upon us to view the proceedings. I cared not. Skilfully, Lord Ramsay teased his thumb over my bud, stroking, moving it back and forth, and then slipped another finger inside me. I groaned loudly. No longer would I be able to contain myself.
“I want you to come now, Lady Dashwood, and don’t be ashamed,” my captor instructed huskily. “Take your pleasure. I will take great delight in watching you surrender and yield to it.”
The very idea he would watch my body be consumed by the pleasure he created spurred me on. Wantonly, I obeyed his command and came as he took me firmly with his fingers, still careful not to rob me of my virginity. Writhing and bucking helplessly across his knee, I came on top of his devilish fingers.
Satiated, I fell limp over his knee. Lord Ramsay removed his fingers and slipped them into his mouth.
I stared up at him in disbelief. He savoured the taste of my creamy wetness against his palate.
“You have a beautiful taste, Lady Dashwood. I would dearly like to sample more and take your virginity for my own here and now, but the day is drawing in, and we must be on our way for the sake of your safety and care.” Lord Ramsay gave my bare bottom two gentle taps with his hand and sighed. “It is a pity I cannot play with you a little more. However, I warrant you will find it difficult to sit comfortably for a while. It will serve to remind you not to question my authority again. When I ask you to do something, I expect to be obeyed with more servitude than you would give a husband. If you do not, I shall whip your fleshy, pert bottom until I am satisfied you are punished, madam. Do I have your word?”
“Yes,? I breathed, doing well to hold back my stubborn annoyance at his arrogance. I could not take another spanking or a whipping.
Lord Ramsay replaced my drawers and smoothed down my dress before he allowed me to stand. He frowned when he came to look down at me. “You appear a little flushed and warm. Are you ill, Lady Dashwood? May I be of assistance?”
“No, I am fine, thank you,” I lied. I did indeed feel a sudden warmth and tiredness. “Are you a highwayman, Lord Ramsay? I have heard of noblemen who take to the road. What do you intend to do with Rosalind and myself?”
“Abduct you both. And, no, I am not a highwayman.”
I was about to protest, but Lord Ramsay suddenly bent and swept his arm under my legs to lift me into his arms and carry me quickly. He ignored my questions as to the reason for my abduction until we returned to the others.
An attractive, young, fair-headed man, who bore a family resemblance to Lord Ramsay, was taking hold of Rosalind as he handed her from the carriage. She began to squeal as he lifted her up around the waist and sat her on top of his horse. He quickly mounted and pulled her struggling form towards his chest.
I turned to Lord Ramsay, making no attempt to hide my displeasure.
“I demand you answer my questions now, sir. I will not be kept waiting any longer. When my brother hears of your treatment of us?”
“It is Lord Dashwood who causes your ill treatment.”
A sudden fiery anger clouded Lord Ramsay’s eyes as he carried me to his horse. I fought my fear to stand my ground, but I could not help being enthralled by his handsome features as he bent his head towards me. His refined pale features were complemented by lustrous, short, thick, dark brown hair and deep, tempestuous, coal-black eyes.
“Your brother has taken my young sister for a fool, Lady Dashwood. He has filled her head with false flattery and induced her to elope with him. She is of a fragile mind, and he plans to ill-use her, taking her fortune to pay his gambling debts. I have it on good authority that he plans to confine her in an asylum once he has taken all he can from her.”
“But this cannot be true. You speak ill of my brother, yet I have only ever known kindness and love from him.”
Those black eyes narrowed with menace. “You have been sorely deceived. Did you not know he has squandered your family’s wealth in his pursuit of leisure, vice, and women?”
“No, you lie. I will not believe, you, sir. Andrew has always been a high-spirited man, but he would never do such a thing.”
I glanced up at Rosalind who still sobbed. Her captor held her tight against him, but to my surprise, he did all he could to soothe her fear with whispers of reassurance she would come to no harm. He hushed her distress with a gentle kiss upon the crown of her head.
“You must, Lady Dashwood,” Lord Ramsay continued in a raised voice. “He is on the verge of bankruptcy. He has designs on your own fortune that you are to receive from your late uncle when you attain the age of twenty-one in two years’ time. I believe Andrew will use violence upon you until it is his own. There is no end to his villainy, I can assure you. He gives me no choice but to repay his act in kind and hold you to ransom for the safe return of my sister.”
Tears sprang into my eyes to hear Andrew’s character defiled. I struggled desperately, determined to free myself and find help. But Lord Ramsay tightened his grip on me fiercely until I was forced to cease all movement. “There is no escape, Lady Dashwood. You would not last ten minutes in this forest unaccompanied. It is full of thieves and knaves who will want more than your wealth.”
He deposited me sideways on top of his horse. “Whilst under my care, you will be afforded my protection, and I will not allow you to be careless with your safety.”
He quickly mounted behind me, sweeping his hand tightly around my waist before moving his horse off into the forest. Stiffly, I tried to maintain a distance between myself and his body, but he was not to allow it. My sore, spanked bottom reminded me of the power my captor held over me as it moved and rubbed against the saddle. I turned my face up towards him. “Am I to be given no choice in this matter? If my brother has done all you say he has, then why are Rosalind and I to be held accountable for his crime?”