CHAPTER TEN
The Long Road Back
He rubbed her back, even though she refused to acknowledge his presence.
“You have performed superbly. Beautifully, Renee.”
The cream was cool, his hand hot.
The cream soothing, his hand arousing.
Renee had never been one to mark easily. Small welts disappeared, larger ones diminished in size, and a few deep welts remained that would stay, if not permanently, certainly for many months. That was as it was intended. No good slave was without the indications of her status. She had been training with the pony cart for two weeks. In that time she’d not spoken to Dashiell Marchand—he lived in his cottage and worked in the big house, while she was liveried in one of the stable’s small stalls, given a bed of straw, a bucket to pee in, and simple food, which
