Clara of Windlocke - Part 1 (Historical Romance, M/F, Hand)

Hertfordshire, England 1840

“Do say you will be attending the Hardwick’s ball Clara, it will be the grandest of the season. Well aside from our very own of course!”

Clara Bambury gazed longinglyout the large parlour window at the falling snow, barely paying attention to the conversation around her. She so wished to be outside and far from the company of the snooty Rotherham’s whom her father had invited to pay call. She could tell from her fathers behaviour so far that he was keen to impress them.

“That is quite true Margaret”, Lady Rotherham agreed with her daughters statement with a somewhat arrogant air. “It is time you came out in society Clara, lord only knows why your father has permitted you to reside here since you became of a marriageable age. You will find yourself amongst far finer company in London than you will here.”

Merill Bambury sat straight in his chair next to Lord Rotherham looking stung at his guests indirect criticism. Clara smiled politely, refraining from voicing her true thoughts on the subject.

A maid arrived bringing tea and an assortment of cakes and Clara continued to endure the Rotherham’s presence and off hand remarks. Margaret told her about the latest fashions in London and offered to help her should she visit and attend the seasons balls, although Clara sensed her intentions were hardly of the good natured kind.

 

When  Lord Rotherham announced it was time they left, Clara was extremely relieved and as they stood in the grand hall she eagerly gave her formal farewells. After watching them enter their carriage and descend down the pebbled drive, Clara and her father headed inside into the warmth of their county house. With a stony glare Merill retired to his study leaving Clara, as usual, alone to entertain herself.

“Why miss Clara you cant go outside dressed like that you’ll catch your death!” Bessie, Clara’s personal maid appeared just as Clara was about to leave again through the main door. 

“Don’t fret so Bessie, the snow is no longer falling and I do not intend to be out that long.” Clara turned to the middle aged maid whom had become a motherly figure since her own mother had passed when Clara was a small child.

“Still, I’ll not be having you getting sick on me. Wait there child and I’ll fetch you your cloak!” Bessie scurried off up the stairs and returned quicker that Clara expected and slightly panting for breath.

“Thank you Bessie, I’ll be back in time for dinner.” Clara donned the garment and giving the maid a smile she turned and skipped her way outside whilst Bessie watched her go, shaking her head in a parental manner. 

The cold wintry air hit Clara with ferocity and she now welcomed the extra clothing she had been supplied with. However her face rapidly began to feel as if it were turning to ice and she had a fleeting though that she should perhaps go back inside and sew or read by the comforting fireplace.  

Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to tread in the freshly fallen snow, she banished all thoughts and undeterred went in search of her playmate.

At sixteen, Samuel the stable boy was two years her junior but had worked for her father as long as she could remember. As Clara reached the stables she spotted him tending to one of the horses and she slowly crept up on him, tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Oh afternoon miss Clara, wa‘nt expectin to see you! What y’ doing out in this weather mind? Y’should be inside not out ere in the cold!”

“Oh Sam you sound just like Bessie! What are you doing to the horse? Can I help?” Clara stroked the velvety coat of the black mare as she spoke.

“No y’cant. Mr Sedges will have me hide if he catches y’ doin any work around ere!” Samuel exclaimed with all seriousness, referring to the stable master. While most the staff where used to Clara talking with them and trying her best to help in some way, they still did their best to dissuade her as it would not do to have Master Merill find out she was associating  with people below her class.

“Well can you not leave the stables and come walk with me? I will be dreadfully lonely otherwise.” Clara  said displaying a pretty pout on her delicate features, a tactic she had often used before on Sam to get him to accompany her on one of her outings. 

Shaking his head, Sam was about to reply when Mr Sedges appeared carrying a bucket of water. He set it down near to the horses front leg and after wiping his brow he addressed his young assistant.

“Why don’ya run along now lad, I’ll tend the mare ere.” Relieving Sam of his duties temporarily, Clara gave the elderly man a gratuitous smile and immediately grasped Sam by his elbow pulling him away from the stables. 

“Ere now Clara, where are we goin? There aint much to do out ere.” Sam asked as he kept one hand on his cap to keep the wind from whipping it off his head.

 

“I am not sure really, perhaps we could go to the brook.”

“The brook? Why ever y’wanna go there?! I still think ye mad for wanting to be out in this weather!”

Clara giggled at his teasing. “Come on now Sam, it is not that cold and where is your sense of adventure?! We shall not be long, I promise.”

Sam followed her knowing that she would not be persuaded otherwise and remembering he had never had any luck before. They kicked their feet lightly  through the soft thick snow, Clara contented to be out in the crisp, sunny air and away from the confines of the house. She seldom spent her time there, preferring to roam amongst the vast estate. 

The brook was located at the edge of her fathers lands and it was a place that she and Sam would often frequent and they considered it ‘theirs’ as they were the only ones to go there. On one side of the stream was a dense collection of tall oak trees which gave way to the nearest road which would occasionally be travelled by people on their way to London. Of course it was much more beautiful in the summer time, when the surrounding plants and flowers were at full bloom and they could sit on the bank throwing pebbles in to the clear water. 

Today however it looked different. Their favourite spot was almost camouflaged by the snow and as they reached the waterside, Clara peered down to see that the water had completely frozen to become ice. 

“My feet are wet, let us sit down.” She spoke as she cleared the sturdy lower branch of a nearby tree with her gloved hand. She sat down while Sam remained standing. “Oh and my dress is wet too!” She sighed as she looked down to see that the bottom of her skirts were soaked at least a good few inches from walking.

“Well what did ye expect like?!” Sam scolded gently as he watched her feel the dampness. Clara looked up and frowned at him before picking up the hem of her dress and  trying to reduce the wetness although deep down, knowing it would be futile. Distracted, she failed to see Sam bend down and gather the icy matter into his hand. 

“I have a gift for you Clara….”

“Oh really?! What is it?!” Clara brightened as she looked at him. The grin across his face almost gave his intentions away. 

Sam brought forward his concealed hand and raising his arm he threw the ball of snow, hitting her straight in the chest.

Clara gasped at the assault before hauling herself to her feet. “Oh Sam how underhanded of you!” She shot him a look of outrage and then bending down she picked up her own collection of snow and moulded it into a ball. Her annoyance turned to amusement as she advanced towards him.

“Ey now I was only……!”

He was hit forcefully on the lower back and he spun around, seeing her laughing at him. 

“Well that serves you right!” she admonished playfully. “I suppose that means we are even now.” Even as the words escaped her mouth Clara was already gathering her next snowball ready to attack once again. With a mischievous glint in her eye she took a step towards Sam.. 

“Wait! Did y’ hear that?”

Clara was stopped from what she was about to do and she listened as the sounds of hooves trotting  became louder. 

“It sounds like somebody is passing by. Shall we go take a look?”

Sam nodded and forgetting their childish battle, they hurried through the trees and to the other side where they had a view of the narrow road and surrounding fields from the slightly elevated position 

As soon as they reached the clearing they could see a horse drawn carriage making its way towards the direction they were stood.

“I wonder who that is? There is not another residence nearby.” Clara said, relating the fact that her home had no neighbours. 

“Aye but could be a traveller to London.”  They continued to watch the carriage approach, its exterior suggesting that perhaps it carried a wealthy person Clara decided. 

Taking his eyes off the chaise for a moment he glanced at Clara noticing she still clutched the mound of snow in her hand which had begun to melt, giving him an idea. 

“Ere now Clara, I wonder would you dare throw that at them strangers carriage….” He nodded his head toward her hand.

“Are you daring me Samuel?” she questioned, although knowing the answer. It was not unusual for Sam to goad her into some sort of trouble not that she could not manage that by herself she recalled as past events flooded her mind. 

“Well miss, I may be…. Though a fine girl such as yourself wud’na do nothing like that I’m sure!” 

Clara giggled at his attempt at sarcasm. She looked down at the ball in her palm, her moral thoughts telling her that it was possibly not a nice thing to do but on the other hand she could never back away from a challenge. She feared to be thought of as weak or timid and she was always trying to prove that she was as brave as any man. 

Her mind made up, and with the carriage about to pass them by, Clara used all her strength to hurl the clump of snow at the moving transportation. She had aimed for the small passenger window but watched anxiously as it hit something else.

“Oh no Clara you gone an hit the driver!”

Clara watched in dismay as the driver seemed to struggle with the horses reigns and then pulled to stop them from going any further.  

“Why have they stopped?”  Clara whispered to Sam, worried that the driver or his passengers would be alerted to their presence. She unconsciously took a step back towards the offered shelter of the trees.

“Perhaps they stopped to give y’ the tanning of your life!” Sam teased as Clara scowled at him.

“Sam don’t say such a thing!” She hoped that the carriage would once again continue on its journey but saw that it still failed to move.  

Sam strained his neck to get a better look and then stood back, a worried look cast across his boyish face. “Y’really done it now Clara, I recognise that emblem I do. That carriage belongs to Lord Windlocke.” 

“Windlocke?” As the question left her lips, the carriage door began to open. Clara gulped. What had she done?

...............................

Lucien Windlocke watched in disbelief as the young girl launched her attack at is coachman. He had been watching her since he first noticed her as they made their descent down the snow covered road, her chestnut curls and enchanting face keeping his attention.

He felt the carriage stop abruptly and could hear his driver attempting to calm the horses to a halt.

The shock of the act evaporating, Lucien’s astonishment turned to irritance at the potential danger the girl could have caused. He intended to show his displeasure and seeing that the girl and her young friend had not yet disappeared, Lucien placed his gloved hand on the handle of the wooden door.

Seemingly unable to move, Clara and Samuel stared, mouths agape as the carriage door opened and the body of the stranger began to emerge. 

“Quick Clara, let’s be going!” Sam attempted to get her attention before it was too late to run as he himself couldn’t help but worry. His suggestion however was met with silence. 

A clothed leg appeared followed by his face,  the mans eyes immediately focused on Clara as he stepped out. 

“Aye tis Lord Windlocke for certain, my father used to work for him he did. Darn it looks like we too late to leave now, we shoulda gone when I said.”

“Clara?” Sam prompted when yet again she failed to respond. 

“Yes? Oh, You do not think he will be angry with us do you?” Clara replied once she realised Sam was talking to her. Her eyes still remained focused on the imposing stranger as he made his way towards them.

“Us? Do y’ mean you?!” Sam jested. Clara turned her head to frown at him before she returned to watch the advancing man.

 

It was obvious to her by the way he was dressed that he was indeed a lord or at least a person of wealth. Clara had always imagined lords and such to be mostly old and greying , but this one looked to be no older than in his early thirties. The colour of his hair could be only described as an unearthly shade of black and as he got nearer Clara noticed his eyes were equally as dark. He cut an intimidating figure, tall and fairly broad which in contrast to Clara’s petite form, served to increase her nervousness. 

Finally the man came to a stop directly in front of where their feet were still planted, his expression unreadable as to his true feelings on the incident. Clara waited in anticipation for him to speak, she could have sworn her palms were sweating despite the cold. Luckily she didn’t have to wait long. 

“Good Afternoon, I see you have been enjoying the weather we are having.”

Clara couldn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in his statement or the way his eyebrows rose at her when he spoke. It was clear he was referring her throwing the clump of snow at his carriage and that thought did not fill her with ease. She also could not help notice how handsome he was, the way his lips curved slightly into a small smile softened his masculine features although if was there to calm her somewhat, it sadly failed.  

“Good Afternoon to you too sir, you are quite right we have been enjoying our walk in the fresh air. I do hope the snow has not affected your travels.”

Lucien tried not to grin at the girls attempt to distract him from what she knew he was about to discuss or the innocent way she delivered her speech. He would be lying if her sweet smile hadn’t melted his firmness on the matter partially. It was a good thing he was used to beautiful woman trying their feminine wiles on him as this one was indeed beautiful. Still she looked to be not long since childhood , her  blue eyes shone at him brightly.   

“No not at all. Well that was until just a moment ago I might add. It seems a mischievous young lady thought to pelt our carriage as we were travelling down the road.”

“Really? Is that so…” Clara replied trying to sound nonchalant. She glanced toward Sam who was still stood next to her quietly, hoping for some sort of answer from him as to what to do, but did not find one as Sam seemed to have lost his bravado since this man had started speaking with them 

“Yes it is quite true. Tell me miss…?”

“Emily. Emily Bambury”. Clara supplied, giving the name she often give to any visiting footman to her home when she and Sam would play tricks on them. She wasn’t quick enough to give a different last name.

“Miss Bambury. Do you make a habit of a throwing things at unsuspecting travellers?”

Clara averted her eyes for a second, looking down at the white ground, trying to think of an answer but could think of nothing to redeem herself. Lucien watched her hesitation with mild amusement.

“No of course not! I was merely having a little fun is all. Nobody got hurt sir and no harm was done, surely you are not angry over the matter?”

“No not angry. However your stunt could have potentially caused my driver to lose control of the horses and caused an accident. It was also a little childish don’t you think?”

Clara was not sure she could argue that point but if their was one thing she hated, it was to be called a child. She was eighteen year old now! She was about to tell him that it was not childish and he was taking the incident too seriously when he spoke again stopping her from her argument.

“Come. Since your act has destined us to meet I shall escort you home and we can discuss this matter in the warmth of my carriage.” 

Clara looked at him as if he was insane, his offer did not sound appealing to her in the slightest. At least he seemed relatively calm and had not scolded her severely which she had considered would happen although she was still was not about to get in his carriage. 

“Really sir there is no need, I apologise so that should really be the end of it.” Clara said with no sincerity. “ I shall walk home if you don’t mind.”

“Actually I do mind and I insist.” Lucien turned his attention for a moment to the young boy beside her. “What about you boy, would you like to join us?” 

“Oh no sir, thanks for the offer but I must be getting back to work now! Bye Clara!” Sam finally spoke and as quick as he uttered his words he was gone, scurrying through the trees as if his life depended on it. Clara could have kicked him for deserting her and she planned to once she was back at the manor.

“Clara?! I thought you said your name was Emily.” Lucien asked sternly.

Clara gulped, now she really wanted to kick Sam! She remained quiet which Lucien took as to mean it was not Emily as he had been told, and that he had been lied too.

“I see, I suppose we should add lying to our discussion.” 

“No we shall not as I am not going anywhere with you!” Clara folded her arms squarely, her temper starting to show due to the highhandedness off this man in her opinion. Why did he care what she did?

Lucien watched her mild tantrum, shaking his head at her feistiness. He did not want to let her off so easily but he was concerned she may be frightened of him and so he tried to speak his next words in a softer reassuring tone. 

“Listen Clara, for a start I do not want you walking home in this chill. I promise you, you will be safe riding with me so let us leave now.” 

Clara continued to glare at him refusing to move or speak. She still hoped to avoid getting into his carriage or them having any sort of  ‘discussion’. Lucien sighed, beginning to lose patience. 

“Or I could pick you up and carry you to my carriage….”

“No! How dare you threaten me so!” She shot back angrily. The temper which she had inherited from her late mother according to one of the maids, in full force.

Lucien had had enough of her stubbornness and so he took a step towards her. Unfortunately she did the only thing she could think of to stop him from carrying out is promise and kicked him swiftly in the shin before immediately turning and running towards the woodland. She had completely forgotten however that the ground was now coated in an icy slush and as in the midst of her escape she started to slip and as she did so she felt herself being grasped around the waist and lifted off her feet. 

“No put me down!” Clara shouted, unthankful of his assistance as he carried her away from the direction she was heading. He did not say anything until to her surprise she felt herself lowered onto his lap, it appeared he was sitting down on something.  Lucien sat down on the remainder of the fallen tree log and wasted no time in turning her over to lay across his lap keeping a firm hold around her slender waist. Clara struggled in shock but found she was no match for his size or strength. 

“Let go of me! What are you doing!”

Lucien kept his hold on her to keep her from escaping, he was determined that she pay the consequences for her actions. He still could not believe that she had kicked him, the little imp had spirit he would give her that.

“What I’m doing my dear is giving you the spanking you deserve! Never will you kick me again.” He spoke in a controlled manner and before she could screech at him in outrage he brought his hand down on her unsuspecting rear. He began spanking with gusto, beginning as he meant to go on, he intended to get her attention. 

“No you cant! Let me go do you hear!” Clara was beyond mortified at what was happening. How dare he spank her like a little girl, nobody had ever done this to her before! She tried once again to struggle but found to her chagrin that she could not escape as Lucien’s arm pinned her in place.

“I can and I will. I will let you up once I’m finished.” He told her, his words were spoken as if they were having a normal conversation. He continued to spank her, raining smacks upon her clothed bottom, but something told him he wasn’t quite getting through to her. He paused momentarily to lift up her skirts, keeping her undergarments in place as to not offend her modesty. As soon as he had done so he resumed and it was only several swats before she began to vocally protest once again. 

“Please stop!” Clara cried, hating to give in but seeing no other alternative to putting an end to this embarrassing chastisement. When he had first started she had to admit it hadn’t felt too bad but now that the protection of her skirts had been removed, her posterior was really starting to sting.

“Are you going to apologise?” He asked. 

Clara thought for a moment, as best she could in her position. She did not really want to give him the satisfaction of an apology but as Lucien placed a few more swats on her rapidly smarting backside, she soon made up her mind. 

“Yes yes! I’m sorry please stop now!” 

Lucien gave her two more and then stopped and righted her clothing.  Once her skirts were back in place he assisted her to her feet and then rose himself. 

“Are you going to be a good girl and allow me to take you home?” he asked  as he looked down on her bonnet clad head, which surprisingly had not come loose during the spanking. 

Clara nodded, at the same time wanting desperately to rub at her nether regions. This was a new feeling to her and she wasn’t entirely sure how to get rid of it. 

“Alright. Come on then little one, lets go..” Lucien motioned for her to start walking towards the carriage which thankfully she did. He couldn’t miss the expression on her face which suggested she was feeling rather sorry for herself and he had a strange urge to comfort her but shook it off.

Lucien opened the door and Clara stepped inside. He then went to tell his driver of the detour to be made who luckily knew the whereabouts of the Bambury home. Lucien was certain that he had seen the whole incident and  he planned on having a few words with his driver about privacy once they reached his London house. Having informed him of the new plans, he entered the carriage and sat down  on the seat opposite Clara. 

They started to move but neither spoke as they sat in silence. Clara’s thoughts were concentrated on what had just occurred, the shock had still not worn off and she was not sure how to feel about it.

Suddenly a bump in the road caused her to shift slightly off her seat, this movement causing her to be fully aware of the discomfort she was still experiencing. This revelation and the short time after, Clara was working herself into a state of indignation as she it finally hit her about what had happened. How dare he spank her?!

Lucien watched her think to herself, he himself in mild contemplation. Fortunately for the both of them it did not take long to reach Clara’s home and as her house came into view she looked out the window, hoping there was nobody around. Although she was somewhat ignorant on the rules of society, she knew it would do well to be seen departing the carriage having spent time alone with a gentleman and she knew Bessie would have something to say on the matter. 

They came to a stop on the wide drive in front of  the house and once stilled Lucien pulled open the heavy door and stepped out, offering Clara his hand. Clara stood up but instead of allowing him to assist her, she shot him a scathing look and jumped down herself ignoring the raised eyebrow he gave her. Lucien refrained from commenting on her stubbornness, instead he began to say his farewells. 

Merrill Bambury watched the two of them from his study window, a dangerous smile beginning to form across his rounded face. He could not believe that the Duke of Windlockes’ son was standing on his very own estate and talking to his daughter no less.  Perhaps his daughter was worth something after all, he thought to himself. He watched them for a few more moments before he left to sit down at his oak desk, plans already forming in his mind. He picked up his pen and began to write his letter….

 ................................