A Knight to Remember by Maryse Dawson

skirts.
    She sucked in a breath when his first smack descended onto her buttocks, which was quickly followed by several swats in rapid succession.
    "Aow!" she wailed, kicking her legs wildly.
    Stephen placed one of his long legs over hers, stopping any further movement.
    "Desist, wench! I hath warned thee afore about blaspheming. Thou shalt hath respect for our Lord!"
    Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
    At every slap, her body jolted forward with the impact. Despite her verbal protestations, Stephen didn't stop. Her bottom soon felt as though she was sitting too near a hot furnace. No amount of wailing or begging would make him stop.
    Smack! Smack! Smack!
    Oh, dear Lord, it hurt! Her and her big bloody mouth! When would she learn?
    Her hands gripped the coverlet tightly as she tried to deal with the pain.
    Suddenly he paused, letting his hand lay on the heated surface of her bottom.
    "Hath thee learned thy lesson?"
    "Yes, yes! Definitely!" Jenny panted, lifting her head up off the bed. "I'll never say the Lord's name in vain again. I promise!"
    "Hmm, let it be so. If thee ever blaspheme again, I shalt use the strap!"
    "T-The strap?" Jenny whispered, horrified. What kind of torture would that inflict? It didn't bear thinking about!
    He pulled her upright and then sat her down on his lap. She winced at the contact with his rough hose.
    "Doth it hurt?"
    Jenny scowled. "Yes, it does."
    "Good. Next time mayhap thee will think twice about what cometh out of that pretty mouth of thine!"
    Jenny resisted the urge to respond with a sarcastic comment and instead decided to keep quiet.
    Stephen continued, "I will reiterate that I want thee to behave and treat Marguerite with courtesy whilst she is here. When thou art in the company of the king, thy tongue shalt be civil. Whether thee be talking to him or to Marguerite, thou shalt behave with decorum. Is that clear?"
    Jenny nodded mutely. Huh...like she was going to obey him . She'd be civil to the king, but as for that bitch, no way .
    "Now, get thee to bed. On the morrow, we shall rise early. The king hath requested a hunt."
    She moved off his lap and waited for him to leave. He tilted her chin up and kissed her soundly on the lips. "Until the morrow, Jenny."
    * * *
    Jenny was woken from her sleep by Annie bustling into the room.
    "Time thee was up and away, milady. The hunting party is beginning to assemble in the Great Hall. Thee doth not want to miss such an opportunity to go hunting with the king."
    Jenny groaned and tried to cover her head with the feather pillow, but Annie stopped her. "Now, now, milady! What ails thee?"
    "I don't like hunting!" That and the fact she was a poor horsewoman.
    Annie looked aghast. "Every lady loves hunting, 'tis a wondrous pastime. Come, no more of this nonsense." She pulled back the coverlet and waited for Jenny to move.
    Realising Annie wasn't going to take no for an answer, Jenny swung her legs off the bed and began to get ready. Annie had already placed a bowl of warm water, a small bar of soap and a clean linen cloth on the table, so she began to wash.
    Halfway through drying her face with the cloth, she looked up to find Annie standing in front of her, holding up a dress. "I hath brought thee another dress of Mistress Flavie's. She used to wear this when hunting, as the cloth is heavier. Thee will look most handsome."
    Jenny regarded the vibrant burgundy dress with gold sleeves and a gold braided bodice. It was pretty, if not a trifle overdone. Annie was clearly in awe of it, so she wisely decided against saying anything detrimental.
    "It's lovely, Annie. Thank you for thinking of me."
    "Oh, 'tis my job, milady. Come, take off thy nightgown and step into the dress here."
    Jenny still wasn't used to having someone help her dress, but wearing medieval garments meant she had to have help, whether it was wanted or not. Some of the lacing was at the back, and one would have to be a contortionist to reach it. Oh, for the invention of the zip. She'd never