Captive Fox
Part Six

by Bluebonnet





Disclaimer: Yeah right, like I could create characters like these?

Rating: NC-17, baby!

Keywords: Sex and discipline--need I say more?

Summary: In a world where women rule and men are chattel, Fox Mulder Scully is his wife's most prized possession...

Notes: Most awesome thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Carolyn, who asks the hard questions, catches the little discrepancies, and makes me be better than I am.



Dana glanced fondly at her sleeping husband. His wrists had new bruises over the old ones, and he had moaned in his sleep periodically during the night. She was certain his muscles must be sore, and his feet had blisters from walking so many miles in his riding boots. All the same, he was adorable, his long lashes curling down to touch his cheek, his wavy brown hair falling haphazardly over his forehead, and his muscular arms sprawled out on her bed. She'd intended to make love to him the night before, but when she'd reached for him, he had moaned piteously in his sleep, and she'd not had the heart to wake him.

She thought of waking him with a kiss and taking him immediately, staring for a few longing seconds at the bulge between his legs that the sheet barely concealed, and then smothered a sigh. It was her right to do so, but it would be unkind. He had suffered greatly the day before, and lovemaking would be less than pleasurable for him this morning.

With a sigh of frustration, she climbed from the bed and rang for the bathwater. She would have him immediately after breakfast, she vowed silently. When the servants had filled the tub to her satisfaction she requested a tray for Fox.

"Just for Lord Fox, my lady?" questioned Sarah, and Dana nodded. Sarah was normally a parlor maid, but she had been doubling as Dana's chamber maid since Reginald, a servant Dana had known all her life, had died several months earlier.

"Yes, Sarah. Lord Fox will remain in bed today. I shall eat downstairs with Mother and Walter, and then I must attend a patient in the village."

Fox stirred at the sound of their voices, and when Sarah had left the room and Dana slipped into the bathwater, he forced himself to sit.

"Ohhh," he groaned as his muscles rebelled.

"You should lie down," she advised, hastily cleaning herself. "How do you feel this morning?"

"I hurt," he told her petulantly. "Everywhere."

"I am not surprised," she said dryly. She finished her bath and rose from the tub, reaching for the drying towel, and told him, "Get into the tub now and clean yourself. Make haste, for Sarah will return shortly with your breakfast."

He winced as he placed his weight on his blistered feet, and sank gratefully into the warm water. "Am I confined to my room then?" he asked carefully. "Is my punishment not completed?"

She touched his cheek lightly before going behind the screen to dress. "Your punishment is over, sweeting, but today you must recover. I would that you remain abed for this entire day."

"But I don't need to do that," he objected, and she gave him a dark look around the edge of the screen. Fox sighed resignedly and finished his bath. If Dana told him to remain abed, he would have to do so. He was in no mood to face further punishment.

"It is my responsibility to see to it that you are cared for," she said, emerging from behind the screen. "You must recover from your ordeal. Your feet must heal, and your muscles are sore."

He hadn't realized quite how sore until he rose from the bath and stretched. He truly did ache everywhere, he realized with irritation. He even had a nasty headache, and his stomach felt unsettled.

Fox slipped into a nightshirt, feeling the soft fabric swirl around his skin, and Dana watched with a gleam in her eye. She didn't intend Fox should wear the shirt for more than a few minutes, but his next words spoiled her plans for a leisurely romp in her bed after breakfast.

"I don't believe breakfast will be required, my lady," he said, making his way slowly back to bed. With every step he took, his nausea increased.

"Nonsense, Fox," she said briskly. "You must eat. You slept through supper last night."

"Yes ma'am," he responded softly, climbing gratefully beneath the covers and curling into a ball. He wanted to obey her, he truly did, but Fox knew that any morsel he tried to put into his stomach right now was only going to re-emerge soon.

Sarah entered the room with his tray but moments later, and Fox gasped at the way his illness increased with the smell of the food.

"Are you sickening, Fox?" Dana asked, placing a concerned hand upon his forehead. "You feel warm."

"I--I'm--" he gulped, his face taking on a decided greenish tint, and he bolted from the bed, managing to reach the chamber pot before heaving the bile of his empty stomach into it.

"Sarah, take the food away," Dana ordered, pouring a drink of cool water for him. She washed his face, then helped him climb back into bed, shivering beneath the covers.

"Have you been feeling ill?" she inquired, beginning a routine examination. His skin felt feverish, and his face was flushed from the exertion of emptying his stomach, but other than that he appeared normal. His pulse was only slightly elevated, his heartbeat strong and healthy, and there were no marks or bruises upon him except those at his wrists.

"No, not until I rose from the bath," he answered. "And I feel fine now, just a bit tired."

Sarah quietly removed the soiled chamber pot while Dana covered her husband carefully and kissed his forehead. Reaching for a cloth and some cool water, she bathed his face of sweat. Fox closed his eyes, breathing slowly under her ministrations, and snuggled down further into the covers.

"I wish I could stay with you, sweeting, but I'm afraid there is a patient I simply must attend this morning. I shall send Mother to check on you later," she told him. "Ring for a servant if you need any assistance, and other than that, you are to stay right here, do you understand me, Fox?"

"Yes, my lady, only please--no more food."

She smiled indulgently. "We shall discuss the condition of your stomach when lunch time arrives. Until then, I think more sleep might be the cure you need."

He nodded and snuggled beneath the coverlet, already beginning to feel drowsy, and she departed, closing the door carefully behind her.

When Dana slipped into her seat at the breakfast table, Maggie and Walter were already halfway through their meal.

"Is Fox ill?" Maggie asked her. "Sarah said he was sickening."

"He is not well. A touch of some stomach ailment, I believe," Dana replied. "I must attend Lady Rogers this morning--will you look in on Fox later, Mother?"

The conversation was interrupted when Roberta, the butler, entered the room.

"Excuse me, Lady Dana," she ventured. "There is a young man here seeking employment. I asked him to wait."

"What kind of work does he do, Roberta?" Dana asked, reaching for another muffin.

"He says he is an upstairs maid, my lady. Melvin has already met with him."

Melvin, the housekeeper, was very exacting in his standards, Dana knew. If Melvin approved the prospective maid, her own interview would be merely a formality.

"We are in need of more help in the upper regions of the house," Maggie commented. "Sarah has been doing double duty for far too long. Will you interview him?"

"I will," Dana told her, "but I refuse to take him on unless he agrees to my terms."

Maggie smiled fondly at her daughter. "You are far too rigid, my dear," she remarked kindly, and Dana threw her a look of annoyance.

"Nonetheless, Mother, I am in charge of the estate," she reminded, and Maggie nodded.

By all rights, the Scully estate should have been passed on to the eldest daughter, Melissa, but Melissa had joined the military at a young age, moving quickly up through the ranks until she had, at the unprecedented age of thirty-four, become a General in command of the Queen's Guard. She was quite wealthy in her own right, and had urged her mother to leave the family estate to her younger sister instead.

"I can't manage it from London," she'd insisted, "and Dana is happy here. Let her have it, to pass on to her daughters. I have my own wealth."

Maggie concurred, and, although Dana would not fully inherit Scully Manor until her mother's death, the management of the vast estate had been turned over to her several years earlier. Since then, Dana had shown herself to be as competent an estate manager as she was a healer.

Hastily finishing her breakfast, Dana entered the salon where the young man in question awaited. She stopped short, admiring the vision before her. He wasn't as pretty as her Fox, but very nearly. His green eyes glowed beneath his chestnut hair, and the lines of his face were well-defined and attractive. He stood almost as tall as Fox, and his form was pleasing in every way. His shirt was partially open, revealing a chest that begged to be fondled. For a moment, Dana almost considered taking the boy to her bed, but Fox was quite satisfying, and she was not yet ready to supplement his favors with another.

"I am Alex Krycek, my lady," he said, bowing deferentially to her. "Your housekeeper said you might have need of my services."

"You are an upstairs maid?"

"Yes ma'am. I have a letter of reference from my previous employer." He handed her a scrap of paper, and she read its contents quickly. The Lady who had written the reference was not an acquaintance of Dana's, but was well known in London by reputation as an honest and trustworthy person.

"This is satisfactory," she said, handing the paper back to him. "However, I think you should know that I only employ lifetime contracts."

His eyes widened a bit, but he said nothing. A male servant was required to sign a contract to remain in the employ of a Lady for a certain number of years, that number to be agreed upon by the employer and prospective servant. During the time a man was contracted, he was treated as the property of the Lady, and she was expected to provide for all his needs in exchange for his service. A contract could be as many years as both desired, but a very few employers required lifetime commitments from their servants. Thus, if Alex signed a contract with Lady Dana, he would essentially belong to her for the rest of his life. She could use him, work him in any capacity she chose, even marry him off if it was her desire. A lifetime contract was an enormous decision.

Alex narrowed his eyes, considering--the Scully family had a reputation for treating their servants well. Besides, if his endeavor was to succeed, he really had no choice. He must be employed by Lady Dana, no matter the cost. And, he reminded himself, if his plan came to fruition, he would soon be warming the Lady's bed on a regular basis, and his life would be comfortable--as comfortable as a man could reasonably expect.

"The Scully estate is a desirable employer," Dana continued. "We take very good care of our servants, and you'll find they're all quite happy. I'm not of a mind to hire a man, get him well trained, then have him leave me to go to one of my neighbors. If you feel this commitment is not to your liking, please seek employment elsewhere."

"No, my lady," he said quickly. "It's quite satisfactory. Indeed, it would be an honor to be taken under contract by one so esteemed in the region."

She looked him up and down carefully for a minute, and Alex stood straight and tall beneath her scrutiny.

"Remove your shirt," she ordered.

Alex looked startled. "My lady?" he questioned hesitantly.

"I wish to see if you bear any marks of displeasure from previous employers."

Alex opened his mouth as if to protest, but seeing her unbending expression, quickly obeyed. He stood silently, head bowed, while she prowled around him, examining his smooth flesh carefully. His back bore no marks or scars of any kind, and the muscles in his chest and arms were firm and strong.

"Very well," she said at last. "You may begin at once. You will be caring for the East Wing, where my husband and I live. Melvin will show you to your room and get you started."

"Roberta," she called, and the butler entered the room immediately. "Draw up a contract. Do you read or write?" she asked, turning back to Alex. The slave shook his head, wide-eyed at the prospect of a man being so educated. "Place your mark upon the contract, then," she told him. "Roberta will show you where."

"Thank you, my lady," he said, flashing her a toothy smile that very nearly caused her to forget her resolve to let Fox be this morning. Indeed, a romp in bed with her beautiful husband was just what she needed to take her mind off her lust, but Fox was unwell, and there simply wasn't time. With a sigh, she started for the village, leaving Alex in Roberta's care.

When Dana arrived at Lady Rogers' home, she found that her patient had worsened, and she spend the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon easing that woman's final hours. Toward early evening, Lady Rogers at last passed to the great beyond, and Dana spoke a few comforting words to her husband before taking her leave, weary and sad. Lady Rogers had been a lifelong resident of the village, and had lived fifty-seven good years. She would be missed. Luckily, Lord Rogers had several daughters to care for him. He would not be left to fend for himself, as poor Walter had been when Lady Sharon had died.

All the same, his devastation at the loss of his wife had shaken Dana.

"Why should I live?" he implored, tears streaming down his face.

"There now," she comforted him. "You have three fine daughters. They will care for you."

Lord Rogers shook his head, his grief overwhelming. "Without Ann, my life is nothing," he whispered, staring at the room where his wife's lifeless body lay.

Dana, unknowing of what to say in such a situation, although she had faced death on many occasion, crept silently from the house and took her leave. What must it be like, she wondered, to have your husband adore you? True, Fox cared for her--at least she believed he did--but the complete devotion Lord Rogers showed to Lady Ann had been a revelation to Dana. She wondered how she had failed to notice it in the past, and how many other couples felt the same.

Not many, she decided at length. A man must love his lady wife, that was expected, but for a woman to feel anything more than fond affection for her husband was, in Dana's opinion, a sign of weakness. Scully women were never weak.

Lost in thought as she rode slowly toward home, Dana was surprised to meet Lady Teena, returning home herself from a visit to a friend nearby.

"How is my son," Teena asked, smiling. "Have you taken him well in hand?"

"Indeed I have, my lady," Dana replied. "He is quite spirited."

Teena looked amused. "Oh yes, Fox always did find himself in trouble more often than the average boy. You look tired, Dana, are you quite well?"

"I am well, thank you. I have just come from Lady Rogers' deathbed."

Teena nodded soberly. "I knew Ann did not have many days remaining. I saw her just yesterday. Poor Franklin. He loved her so."

Dana sighed. "It is the most difficult part of being a healer, watching the families left behind. Speaking of such, I must hurry home and see to Fox."

"Oh dear, is he ill?"

"He was a bit unsettled this morning. Mother has been caring for him today."

"Well, give the boy my love, and tell your dear mother that she must come to visit me soon," Teena told her, flicking the reins and moving on.



Fox lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling in boredom. His muscles were still a bit stiff and sore, but his stomach felt fine. He had not been ill since Sarah had removed the breakfast tray early that morning, and he was certain it had been merely a passing ailment. He wanted to get out of bed, perhaps go for a walk around the grounds, but Dana had ordered him to remain where he was, and Maggie had popped in several times to check on him. He didn't dare risk her wrath if he was caught disobeying Dana.

He had counted the decorative spots on the ceiling at least twice when there was a light tap at the door.

"Yes?" he called, and the door opened to reveal Sarah, followed closely by a very handsome young man.

Fox stared at the new arrival uncertainly, suddenly feeling rumpled and unattractive. Alex was quite pretty--no, he was much more than 'quite pretty'--he was stunning, Fox realized with a bolt of pure jealousy. The man stood tall, maybe taller than Fox, and his body was well filled out in all the right places. His eyes were a deep green, and his hair fell across his forehead enticingly. Fox sniffed the air surreptitiously, wondering if Sarah had managed to removed all smell of his sickness from the room.

"My lord Fox," Sarah reported, "this is your new chamber maid, Alex. He'll be taking care of the East Wing starting today."

"Lord Fox," Alex said politely, inclining his head slightly in Fox's direction. "I am sorry you are ill."

"I'm fine," Fox muttered, then remembered his manners. "Welcome to the Scully estate, Alex," he said formally. "Melvin, the housekeeper, will instruct you in what your duties will entail."

"I have already spoken to Melvin," Alex assured him, and there was something of a glint in his eye that made Fox uncomfortable. "He tells me I may spend a good deal of my time in this chamber...both day and night," he added in a low voice meant only for Fox.

Fox was taken aback at the outright suggestion that Alex might spend nights in Dana's chamber, so taken aback that he could not think of a thing to say. Several retorts crossed his mind, but he knew that any snide comment he made in front of Sarah would find its way back to Dana, and he did not want his backside to answer for it later. Instead, he curtly dismissed the two servants, telling Sarah he wished not to be disturbed for the rest of the day, and slid down beneath the covers again. He thought he heard soft, mocking male laughter from the corridor just as the door closed.

Fox lay in his bed for another half hour, fuming, wondering why he felt so threatened by the presence of another attractive man in the household. Surely Dana would not throw him out of her bed so soon. On the other hand, if he was too sick to perform his husbandly duties, perhaps she would seek her pleasure elsewhere.

He must become well, Fox decided, as quickly as possible. He pulled himself to a sitting position, clutching at the night stand when his balance threatened to leave him, and waited for the wave of dizziness to abate. When at last he felt somewhat recovered, he rose on shaky legs and made his way to the window. Fresh air, he decided, would go a long way toward helping his recovery.

Fox opened the window and drew in deep gulps of the outside air, but the breeze was blowing from the wrong direction, and none of the cleansing air would enter the room. Finally, feeling braver on his feet, he made up his mind. He would go outside for a walk. Just a short one, he told himself. He wouldn't leave the main courtyard. Surely Dana wouldn't mind if he took a tiny little walk around the yard, just to get some of his strength back.

Having reached a decision, Fox dressed quickly and left the room at once, glancing quickly up and down the corridor to make certain he was not observed. As he allowed the chamber door to close silently behind him, he could hear Melvin's voice coming from a few rooms down, rising and falling in cadence as he explained the housekeeping duties to Alex. As Fox listened, the younger man's musical laughter rang out, and Fox tightened his jaw jealously. The new maid even had an attractive laugh! Feeling a bit like a limp dishrag, Fox crept down the hall and through the massive doors that separated the East Wing from the rest of the house.

Silently he slipped down the stairs, glaring at the young cook's assistant who spotted him. The boy, no more than fourteen, gave Fox a look of sheer terror and scuttled toward the kitchen. Satisfied that his flight would not be reported, Fox confidently opened the front door.

If he hadn't been glancing hurriedly over his shoulder, he would have seen the tall, beautiful woman who stood on the front steps, ready to enter the mansion, but instead Fox, intent upon avoiding discovery, ran headlong into her.

"Oh!" he gasped when he collided with her firm body. Her hands went immediately to his waist, steadying him, and he blushed at the intimacy of her touch even as he realized without it he would have fallen.

"I'm--I'm sorry, I--" Fox gazed at the vision of loveliness before him and swallowed hard. She was nearly as tall as him, with a solidly built, strong body, which the military style uniform she wore emphasized to perfection. Her hair was a bit darker than Dana's--almost brown with red highlights. Her eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen, and Fox stared into them, completely at sea for a few moments.

The lady in question stared back at him, a small smile hovering around her lips, and then gave him a slight bow. She released him and stepped back, and he began to breathe normally again.

"You must be Fox," she said in a voice that was soft and yet strong all at once. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers gallantly, and Fox shivered.

"Welcome to the Scully family," she said, looking him up and down with amusement. "I am Lady Melissa, Dana's older sister."

Melissa! Fox barely remembered Melissa from when they were children. She was at least ten years older than Dana, and had left home to join the army almost before he was old enough to be aware of what the army was. He had a vague recollection of a tall, gangly teenager, teasing him and Dana mercilessly.

"You don't remember me," she commented, and Fox fought for a modicum of composure.

"Of course I remember you, my lady," he answered shyly. "You used to pull my hair!"

She threw back her head and laughed heartily, and Fox thought her laughter the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, certainly much more so than that uppity maid Dana had hired. Her laugh was honest, true and open, and Fox felt himself responding in kind.

"I did indeed," she replied. "You would become quite furious with me! And now you are my sister's husband. You have grown up to be quite a beautiful man, Fox."

Fox lowered his gaze, embarrassed, but Melissa pressed on.

"Where are you sneaking off to in such a hurry?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone. "I saw you glancing behind to make certain you weren't being followed."

Fox stared into her eyes, worried at first that she might betray him, and relaxed when he saw nothing but calm amusement in them.

"I wanted some fresh air," he confessed. "I was a bit ill this morning, and Dana told me to remain in bed, but the room was quite stuffy..."

"And you were bored and thought you could get away with a walk around the grounds without being detected," she finished for him, and he nodded, giving her a shy smile.

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"Now why would I do that?" she asked, offering him her arm. "Allow me to act as your escort, Lord Fox?"

"My--my pleasure," he stammered, accepting her assistance gratefully. "I'm afraid I'm still a bit weak on my feet."

"We'll go slowly," she promised, and, allowing him to lean on her as they traversed the grounds, she soon had him in stitches with talk of their younger days.

"I remember Dana was always quite jealous of you," she commented. "She nearly chopped off Elizabeth Knight's arms when she learned Elizabeth had kissed you!"

Fox blushed. "We were only children then," he murmured. "I couldn't have been more than seven."

"Ah, but my little sister has had her eye on you for years," Melissa told him. "Somehow I always knew she would have you if she could."

"Do you think she could ever..." Fox began, and stopped, feeling foolish asking this great lady such a question. Of course Dana would never fall in love with him. Ladies simply cared for their husbands--they didn't love them. A husband was something to be shown off and petted, used for pleasure, someone to raise the children and keep the house, but a woman didn't fall in love. It simply wasn't like a Lady.

Melissa waiting for him to finish his unasked question, but instead, he gasped and clutched at her arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned.

"I think perhaps I've overdone," he replied, his face going a bit green. "I'm afraid I'm going to be sick again."

"I'll help you upstairs," she told him, slipping her arm around his waist for support. He took another step and then stumbled, and with a shake of her head, Melissa swung him up into her arms, carrying him easily toward the house. Fox buried his face against her shoulder, uncomfortable at the feeling of her breasts pressing into his side, yet too ill to protest.

Dana, riding Thunder quickly up the drive, saw a man who closely resembled her husband walking on the arm of a very attractive woman. Her eyes narrowed angrily when she realized it was her husband. 'Damn it! What the hell is he doing out of bed!' she raged inwardly. 'Is he incapable of following my orders?'

Hurrying Thunder into the stable, she handed his reigns over to a servant and strode purposefully toward the house, slapping her crop angrily against her thigh. Fox would learn to obey her, she vowed, if it took the rest of his life. Oh, he might be too ill to punish tonight, but he would most certainly be recovered within a day or two, and then he would feel her displeasure.

She bounded up the stairs, tossing her cloak and gloves aside carelessly, and threw open the door to her bed chamber. Her eyes took in the scene all at once, and Dana felt her stomach tighten.

"Melissa," she stated flatly.

Her sister looked around at Dana from where she sat on the bed beside Fox. Fox lay on his back, his shirt pulled up to reveal his bared stomach, and as Melissa spoke her hands continued a slow, circular stroking motion on his skin.

"Hello, Dana," she greeted her sister. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"We didn't expect you," Dana said tersely. "What are you doing?" She forced herself to remain calm, even though her oh-so-modest husband was lying in her bed, his eyes closed, allowing a strange woman to touch him intimately.

"Fox became ill again, so I am helping ease his discomfort," Melissa replied calmly, continuing her attentions.

Dana watched for another few seconds, and finally could stand no more. She strode over to the bed and jerked her husband's shirt down to cover him. Fox, who had slipped into a state of near unconsciousness, started into complete wakefulness.

"My--my lady--" he stammered, and she glowered down at him.

"You disobeyed me," she said in a deadly tone. "You were instructed not to leave your bed."

"He needed fresh air, Dana," Melissa interjected, but Dana ignored her.

"I'll be the judge of what he needs," Dana replied, with more than a touch of arrogance. "Such activity could have only worsened the situation. If he needed fresh air, he should have opened the window."

Melissa rose, giving Fox an encouraging smile, and left the room. It was better to let Dana go ahead and vent her anger. She knew Dana wouldn't actually punish Fox now, not in his condition, but her sister had always been headstrong and Melissa had never been able to teach her patience.

"Well...I'll see you at dinner," she said quietly before closing the door.

Dana gave an icy nod and waited while her sister left the room. Then she drew the curtain, dimming the brightness, and lay down carefully beside Fox. He opened one eye and observed her. His pale face was beautiful in the dim light, and Dana felt herself softening toward him. After all, she reminded herself, Fox was still inexperienced in the ways of women, and he had been ill. He was not entirely to blame for the situation with Melissa.

"How are you, sweeting?" she asked, softly caressing his cheek.

"Better now, I think," he whispered, grateful that her anger appeared to have dissipated for the moment. "Lady Maggie kept forcing me to drink her potions, but they wouldn't stay down. I just wanted to be left alone. And then later, I felt better, but I needed some air, and the window wasn't sufficient--I just wanted to take a quick walk around the grounds and I would have gone right back to bed, but I met Melissa--I'm sorry I disobeyed you, my lady."

"Mother was only trying to help you, Fox," Dana sighed. "But I know how you feel. When I was young, and would fall ill, she would do the same to me."

She thought she saw the ghost of a smile.

"As for your disobedience..."

He glanced up at her hopefully.

"We'll deal with that later."

She ignored his sigh, and went behind the screen to change. "I hired a new maid this morning, have you met him?" she called to him.

"Yes. The little tramp," he added under his breath.

"Well, anyway," she said absently, missing the slight note of jealousy in his voice, "what's important is that you fulfill your duties as my husband. He'll be an upstairs maid, and will care for this wing, including our chamber, so you'd best meet with him as soon as you are feeling up to the task, and inform him of any duties Melvin may have neglected to mention."

"Yes, my lady," he replied grudgingly, and pulled himself to a sitting position, leaning against the massive headboard. His nausea seemed all but diminished at this point, since Lady Melissa's intervention, and he savored the relief. Fox was rarely sick, and being forced to take to his bed due to illness was unbearable.

Dana emerged from behind the dressing screen wearing a long, flowing silk robe in a shade of midnight blue that caused her eyes to glow, and Fox swallowed hungrily at the sight. He hoped she would climb into the bed and take him at once, but instead, she sat down before her mirror and began stroking through her long, red hair with her hairbrush. Mesmerized, he watched the bristles slide through her hair, separating each strand, and he could almost feel it slip between his fingers, soft as a kitten's fur.

"What is it, Fox?" she asked, continuing to run the brush through her hair.

"I--I want--" He seemed at a loss for words, but Dana was determined to make him say the words. It was long since time Fox got over his shyness about lovemaking, in her opinion.

"What do you want?"

Rising from the bed, he crossed to where she sat and took the brush from her fingers.

"May I, my lady?" he requested, and she nodded. He began to brush her hair, gently stroking the bristles from her scalp to the end of the long red strands over and over. Dana leaned back, eyes closed, her expression blissful, and Fox tended to her hair happily. The softness of the wisps between his fingers, combined with the faint scent of the soap she used to clean her hair, made a hunger begin to grow in him with which he had only recently become familiar. He made a noise deep in his throat, and Dana opened her eyes, looking up and smiling at the naked desire she saw on her husband's face.

"What do you want?" she asked again, softly this time.

He bit his lip, knowing she wanted him to voice his desire, feeling lust and embarrassment warring within him. "I want you to.."

She waited, perfectly still, for him to finish.

"Make love to me, Dana. Please."

His eyes were clenched tightly shut, but he had at last spoken the phrase she wished to hear, and Dana took the hairbrush from his limp fingers and rose from her chair. Fox opened his eyes as she turned to him, slowly allowing her robe to slip over her shoulders and fall to the floor.

"It is the first time you've spoken of your desire for me," she said softly, laying her hand lightly on his cheek, and he nestled his face into her palm. "I am quite pleased."

He turned his face to nestle his lips against her fingers, and she stroked tenderly over their fullness. Her hand slid up to caress the back of his neck, and then he felt himself pulled down, down, to drown in her lips, her eyes, her sweetness.

Dimly, Fox realized she was leading him toward their bed, and when she lay down on her back and pulled him over her, he smiled. He loved when she took him like this--the feeling of power and control, while he knew it to be false, was heady and exciting.

"Now, Fox," she whispered in his ear, and without further delay he plunged his throbbing manhood deep within her softness, stroking in and out at her command, slower, then faster, harder, deeper, until he was moaning with his own need. Just when he was certain he would not be able to prevent spilling his seed for another second, she threw back her head and made that animal growl that he adored, and moments later he clutched her to himself as he reached his own state of bliss.

Afterwards, as he lay panting with exertion beside her, she stroked his flesh up and down, her soft fingers sending chills up and down his spine.

"You are so lovely, my Fox," Dana whispered to him. "I've wanted you for this entire day."

"As have I, my lady," he replied sleepily, a bashful grin on his face, and Dana smiled before kissing his lips tenderly.

"Sleep now," she instructed. "Unless you wish food?"

He shook his head, almost asleep already.

"I'll be upstairs late," she told him. "I must write up some notes before I retire."



Quietly, she rose from the bed and cleaned herself, then dressed and left the room, turning the lamp down to a mere glimmer. Fox lay innocently sleeping, his face so boyish in the dim light that she shook her head wonderingly. He was such a contradiction, this husband of hers--shy and modest, completely proper, and yet willing to be as wild as she desired in her bed. He was truly a prize, she decided, making her way downstairs to the dining room, and she would not let Melissa or anyone else take his attentions from her.

When Dana entered the dining room, the rest of the family was already at table, and Maggie gave her a sly smile as she slid into her seat.

"I was afraid you wouldn't be joining us, my dear," Maggie remarked blandly, her eyes on her plate. "How is Fox this evening?"

"Tired," Dana said shortly, reaching for a slice of bread. "He is sleeping and does not require a meal."

"He must eat," Melissa put in. "He will need to maintain his strength to keep up with you, little sister."

Dana stared at her, feeling the old jealousy trying to rear its head and consciously suppressing it.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from the head of the Queen's Guard?" she asked, politely ignoring her sister's innuendo.

"I was due a leave," Melissa informed her, sprinkling salt on her potatoes. "I was sorry to have missed your wedding, Sister, and yours, Mother. When the opportunity arose, I felt it was time to return home for a visit, in order to meet the new men in the family."

She smiled disarmingly at Walter, who blushed becomingly and dropped his gaze to his lap.

"I must say, you have both done quite well for yourselves," Melissa continued. "Both Walter and Fox are quite lovely and charming."

"Yes," Maggie replied with a fond glance at her husband. "Walter pleases me greatly. He is an excellent host, and keeps the estate accounts as competently as any woman."

Walter's blush deepened at her praise. "Thank you, my lady," he whispered, wishing the attention of the women would become focused somewhere other than on himself.

Maggie, as if reading her husband's mind, switched the conversation immediately.

"How is Lady Rogers?" she asked Dana, and Dana shook her head sadly.

"She did not last the afternoon," Dana reported. "I was quite saddened, as were her daughters."

"And her husband?" Melissa asked casually. "How did Lord Rogers take the loss?"

"He was upset, as can be imagined," Dana said. "However, he has three good daughters who will care for him. He need not fear abandonment."

"It is not the fear of abandonment that causes Lord Rogers' grief," Melissa said gently. "I have met both Lady and Lord Rogers frequently. Franklin adored his wife."

"As is appropriate," Dana replied. "A man should love his wife, he should be devoted to her needs and her comfort."

"And how must a wife view her husband?" Melissa asked, curious as to Dana's opinion on this controversial topic.

"A husband is a possession," Dana told her plainly. "He should strive to make himself as attractive and as agreeable as possible, in order to reflect well upon his wife. He should be available whenever she wishes him, and make himself unobtrusive when she does not. In short, dear sister, husbands should be seen and not heard."

Melissa shook her head slowly. She had seen much of the world in her travels with the Queen, and was wiser in the ways of different cultures than Dana. Dana, while she had traveled a good bit in the military, had largely been in a protected environment, full of dominant and strong women who thought of men as little more than providers of their entertainment.

"There are some societies where men and women are considered equally important," Melissa informed them.

"Those societies must be on the verge of collapse!" Dana snorted derisively.

"Indeed, no, they work quite well. And this will truly gall you, Sister, but I have even seen cultures where the men are the rulers and providers, and women the subservient ones."

Dana stared, disbelieving.

"Can such a society exist for long?" asked Maggie. "Men have not the knowledge or the emotional fortitude to run the world. They are meant for raising children and pleasing women."

"The people of Godanza, in the heart of Africa, have lived that way for generations," Melissa responded. "I have seen them myself. The men run the town, and the women are the ones who keep the homes and raise the children. It's really quite interesting."

"It sounds appalling," Dana growled, throwing down her napkin and rising to her feet. "If you will excuse me, Mother, Melissa, I'm really quite fatigued."

"Of course, daughter," Maggie answered. "It has been a difficult day for you. Is Fox quite over his illness?"

"Quite," Dana told her, nodding to Melissa and taking her leave.

Walking toward the stairs, she gritted her teeth as she heard her sister ask brightly, "So, Walter, what do you think of a society where men are dominant?"

She was unable to hear his answer, but gave another angry snort when both her mother and sister burst out in laughter. Men in charge! The very idea was ludicrous. Dana half-believed that Melissa made up these wild stories out of her imagination, in order to take advantage of her mother and sister's lack of world experience.

Melissa had always been the shining sun of the Scully family, she reflected, shoving open the doors to the East Wing, and she had always been but a dim star on the horizon compared to her sister. Dana had traveled the continent in the army, but Melissa had actually mingled with the people of the world, learning their cultures and languages. While Dana was successful in her chosen profession, Melissa was one of only three Generals responsible for the Queen's Guard--one of the highest, most prestigious positions in the entire land. And while Dana had always considered herself adequately smart and adequately pretty, Melissa was brilliant and beautiful.

Dana made her way to the salon in the East Wing, and spent several hours writing her notes on Lady Rogers' case, as well as a few others she had neglected recently. She had been spending entirely too much time concentrating on her delectable new toy, she reflected, and not enough time attending to business.

Her thoughts drifted back to the image of Fox lying in her bed, his soft, smooth skin bared to Melissa's lingering touch, and she felt herself growing angry all over again.

With a muttered curse, Dana rose and poured herself a tumbler of drink, downing half of it in one gulp and refilling it immediately. She returned to her desk, forcing her mind to focus on her notes, and was at last able to complete them in something resembling a satisfactory manner. It had taken much longer than it should have, due to her current state of mind, and that fact angered her further.

Dana's mood darkened as she approached their bed chamber. It was nearing ten o'clock, and she wasn't drunk, but she was certainly seeing things more clearly, she told herself.

Fox had been laughing and clutching Melissa's arm earlier in the day, and then, as modest as he was, he had bared his flesh for Melissa to touch with her hands. It was unlike Fox, but apparently her sister's magic worked with all manner of men. Certainly Walter had become a blithering fool when her attention was focused on him.

She threw open the chamber door, not even trying for silence, and Fox sat up quickly in bed at her entrance.

Dana stared at Fox, looking beautiful and desirable in her bed, an expression of wariness on his lovely face.

"Did--did you enjoy your supper, my lady?" he asked tentatively, hoping to dispel her unexpected mood with pleasant conversation.

"No," she said shortly. "Melissa was relating foolish nonsense of men dominating women."

Fox looked disbelieving. "I should not like to dominate you, my lady."

"That is good, husband, because you certainly never will," she replied firmly, eyeing his luscious form and feeling her arousal stir again.

Fox could see the desire in her eyes, and a slight fear shook him. He didn't know what he had done to bring on her sudden anger, but he was afraid if she took him now, feeling as she did, she would hurt him.

"Would you like a--a bath?" he asked, trying to mask the desperation he felt. "I could put in some of the soothing oils you prefer. You could relax..."

He trailed off as she continued to stare at him, and then swallowed hard as she began to approach, stripping off her clothing as she moved.

"A bath is not what I had in mind," she said pointedly, moving beside him and seating herself on the bed.

Fox gripped the coverlet tightly, willing himself not to move away from her like a frightened virgin, feeling his heart pound in his chest as she drew nearer.

"Dana?" he asked tremulously before she pounced upon him, seizing his face between her hands and kissing him roughly, possessively, pressing her body against his until he could feel her heat through his night shirt.

When at last she released his bruised and swollen lips, Fox was breathless. Dana pushed him back so that he was lying on the bed, and in the next instant had secured his wrists above his head with her stockings, tying them tightly to the bed post. She threw the coverlet aside and tugged on his legs until he was lying across the bed at an angle, his nightshirt pushed up almost to his waist. Fox felt the color creep up his face as Dana took in the sight of him, starting at his toes and working her way slowly up his body until her eyes came to rest on his face.

"You are mine," she said forcefully. "No other woman will ever have you."

"No, my lady," he whispered, mesmerized by the look in her deep blue eyes.

"I intend to take you now," she informed him, "and make it last for hours. You will not find your release for a long time tonight, my love, so prepare yourself. Should you allow your seed to spill before I say you may, it will go very badly for you."

Fox nodded, his gaze still locked with hers, as slowly, slowly, she bent toward him, running her tongue across his neck, lapping at the hollow there, nibbling and biting his ears, chin, shoulders. He shivered beneath her assault, feeling himself grow impossibly hard as she rubbed her hips against his groin. Before long he was panting with the desire for her to take him, and with the effort of holding back his release.

Dana took him slowly, kissing his body up and down, not gently this time, not as a tender lover but as a wife bent on expressing her domination over her husband. She didn't hurt him, but the torture she put him through caused him to cry out his frustration again and again, and when she finally sheathed him, slipping him inside her moistness, he nearly cried in relief.

"Hold yourself!" she commanded, and he nodded again, biting his lip, his brow furrowed with the concentration of giving her as much pleasure as he was able while still denying his own.

She rode him hard and fast, and soon he found himself whimpering his need, begging her in almost incoherent sentences to please allow him to come, please allow him to find his release, please put him out of this torment, and at last she clenched her muscles tightly around him and he knew he could hold back no longer, and with a relief so great he cried out with it, he lost himself in her, hearing her whispered, "Now!" and obeying immediately, thrusting upwards into her sweet body again and again and again until he was completely drained, both of his seed and his energy.

He had barely come back to his senses when she climbed off him, reaching for a washing cloth and dipping it into the water in the basin.

"That was very satisfying to me," she said calmly, cleaning herself and straightening her clothing while he looked on, still panting for breath. "You have served me well, Fox."

Fox tried hard to ignore his disappointment at her words, comforting himself with the notion that it was simply her manner of speaking, that she did care for him in some way, at least. It was difficult not to feel like a mere object when she spoke thusly, but truly, she could not think of him as merely a body to warm her bed, not after the tenderness with which she'd treated him over the last few days. Dana was simply spirited and commanding, certainly fine qualities for a woman to have. After all, he couldn't expect tender kisses and loving words every single time she took him.

Suppressing a small sigh, he tugged at the stocking that still held his wrists bound, feeling the numbness that came of being tied for too long beginning to set in.

"Hold still," Dana ordered, approaching him with another cloth, and he lay there silently as she cleaned him off and pulled his nightshirt back to his knees. "You look almost modest again," she said with a cold smile, cocking her head to one side. "No one would know that earlier this afternoon, you had revealed your body to my sister."

He gasped at her accusation. "But my lady, she was only--"

"I know what Melissa was doing," Dana interrupted smoothly. "She claims her massages calm the belly, but in truth she only wanted to get her hands on your pretty white flesh, and you allowed it, even with all your virginal modesty. I have just demonstrated to you who is your mistress, and I will do so as often as necessary until I know that you believe it without a doubt."

"I wish no mistress but you, my lady!" he declared, tears beginning to form in his wide eyes. "In truth, I would never dishonor you. Lady Melissa told me she could help, and I--I--"

"You allowed her to touch you intimately."

He flushed, closing his eyes in shame at the memory.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Fox's eyes flew open, his neck arching to look up at his still bound wrists.

"My lady, please," he beseeched. "I beg of you, release me. I do not wish to be seen like this by the servants."

For a moment, he thought she would deny his request in order to further punish him, but after a second her eyes softened almost imperceptibly, and she untied the stocking with a flourish. Dana missed the look of gratitude on her husband's face as she turned away to answer the door.

"My lady?"

She stared up at Alex Krycek.

"Yes?" she replied brusquely. "You should be abed, Alex."

"Will you be requiring my...services this evening?" he asked, and there was no mistaking the suggestion in his tone. His shirt was open to the waist, revealing a strong, well defined chest, and Dana felt desire wash over her, even after her recent lovemaking with Fox.

"Perhaps another time," she told him, even as her mind returned to the man that waited in her bed. Alex was beautiful, but Fox was even more so, and she found his modesty and bashfulness preferable to the overtures of the new maid. "You may retire."

"Yes, my lady," he said, and she was certain she heard blatant seduction in his voice. "Some other night."

Before she could close the door fully, a firestorm erupted behind her and Fox flew to the door, dodging her completely, and taking a swing at an unsuspecting Alex.

He'd overheard the conversation, and on the heels of Dana's treatment of him, it was simply more than he could bear. With a sound he later realized shamefully had sounded almost like a growl of pure rage, he knocked the hapless maid to the floor in a heap. Alex, taken by surprise, did not try to defend himself at first, as Fox landed blow after blow of his fists on the man's face and stomach.

Dimly, through his fury, Fox was aware of his Lady calling to him to leave off, and of the sound of running footsteps approaching, but he was beyond reason. He pummeled the pretty man mercilessly, receiving a few good knocks from Alex's fists as well, but strengthened by his anger, Fox had his opponent at a disadvantage.

Almost before the brawl had begun, Fox felt strong hands grasping him and lifting him off Alex. Struggling furiously, completely out of control, he continued throwing curses at the younger man while kicking uselessly at the one who held him.

He did not calm himself until he realized Dana was standing before him, a tiny package of redheaded rage. At last, her words began to sink through his consciousness, and he perceived that he was in enormous trouble.

"Fox Scully, you will STOP this disgrace this instant!" she thundered, holding up one fist to his chin, and although he was fairly certain she wouldn't actually throw a punch at him, Fox ceased his struggles immediately. Gradually, taking in the scene, he realized that Walter was the one holding him so firmly captive. Lady Maggie stood behind Dana, and the corridor suddenly seemed full of servants. Apparently the entire household had been summoned by the brawl.

"How dare you shame me in this manner?" Dana continued, disregarding the presence of the others until her mother spoke.

"Daughter, what is this about?" demanded Maggie sternly. "We were ready to retire for the evening when suddenly there appeared to be complete mayhem!"

His eyes still spitting fire at Alex, Fox continued to glare at Alex, his chest heaving with his panting breaths.

Dana stared at him for a long moment, ignoring her family, and the crowd fell completely silent, except for the cooing sounds a couple of the female servants were making over Alex as they tended his injuries. Finally, stepping closer to him, she spoke.

"If you are going to act like a wild animal, you shall be treated as one," she said deliberately. His eyes widened in fear as he looked at her for the first time, and realized just what he had done. He felt the breath leave his body all at once when she continued, "Roberta, Sarah, take him to the dungeon and put a collar around his neck. Shackle him to one of the rings in the wall. We shall see how this wild Fox takes to being chained up like a dog."

His eyes could only see Isaac, naked and dying in the rain, as he numbly allowed the servants to lead him away. Vaguely, still horrified at his own behavior, he was aware of voices behind him, and he flinched when Dana shouted again.

"Silence! I will not be told in my own home how I should deal with my husband!"

"What have I done?" he moaned quietly to himself, his head bowed in abject shame.

"Don't worry, my lord Fox," whispered Sarah as she and Roberta, flanked by two more servants, led him down the stairs. "It isn't really a dungeon. Well, it used to be, years ago, but now it's merely an empty room down cellar. All the torture devices are gone now."

Fox didn't know whether to be relieved or not--after all, Dana hadn't mentioned torturing him, but she was more furious than he had ever seen her. He wondered how long she would leave him chained in the dungeon. Surely--surely she wouldn't leave him there to die, as Lady Fowley had done with Isaac? Dana was angry, but she wasn't needlessly cruel. If she was tired of him, and wished to take another to her bed, she would simply have him relegated to another area of the mansion.

His eyes filled with tears at the sharp pain through his heart. The thought of the new maid in his lady's bed was more painful than the idea of being chained up like Isaac. And why? He had to ask himself what he had been thinking, attacking Alex like that. After all, even if he did not like the idea, it was his lady's privilege to take any man she wished.

Directly behind his confusion came anger, at himself, Alex and even Dana. She had practically raped him to stake her claim, simply because Lady Melissa had tried to help him, and yet when another man offered himself to her, Fox was expected to sit idly by and do nothing? It was not to be borne!

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and tried desperately to block out the image of Dana, her head thrown back in that animal way of hers, riding Alex with the tenderness and enthusiasm with which she had taken him. She wouldn't. She simply wouldn't. Would she?

He barely noticed their descent, until they stood before a heavy iron door. They had come down to a seldom-used area of the cellar, far from the places where wine and food were stored, and Fox shivered. It was very dark, and the smell was of mold and mustiness.

He watched, transfixed, as Roberta inserted a large key into the door, turning it with some difficulty, and flinched at the creaking sound the hinges made when the door was swung open.

The room was smaller than their bedchamber, and Fox could see, through the dim light cast by the servants' torches, that there were iron rings embedded in the walls at various intervals. One wall had rusty manacles in four positions, and he shuddered as he realized that men must have been fastened there, hanging uncomfortably, their feet well off the floor, while untold tortures were inflicted upon their bodies. He could almost feel the iron biting into his wrists as he imagined himself there, perhaps being whipped, or possibly subjected to the hot coals or branding irons that so many used to endure, back when torture of disobedient men was a common occurrence. He realized, with a detached clarity, that his father had possibly been subjected to it, and most definitely his grandfathers. The practice was not that long in the past.

He barely noticed Sarah approaching him with the steel collar until she slipped it around his neck, fastening it securely with a large lock. It was heavy, and the reality of his situation was suddenly brought home to him when a chain was attached to one of the rings, then to his collar. He was an animal, chained away to be forgotten while his lady took someone younger and prettier to amuse her.

"Please--please don't leave me here!" he begged, feeling the tears beginning to slip down his face, but the servants ignored him, retreating, their eyes downcast, for they, too, were shocked and uncomfortable with the situation. None of them could remember a time when a man had been imprisoned in the Scully dungeon, but they had all heard tales of the old days.

"Please! Not in the dark! I can't stand the dark!" He fell to his knees in desperation, and Roberta, the last to leave, turned back at his pleading. The raw terror in his voice touched her, and with a glance at the door to be sure they were alone, she placed the torch she carried in a sconce on the wall.

"I don't know how long it will burn," she whispered, "but I'll bring another when I come with your supper."

"I'm not hungry."

"But you have had nothing all day. Although it is quite late, my lady will insist that you have a meal," she laughed. "I'm certain of it."

He nodded gratefully, and tried not to lose what remained of his composure as the door clanged shut and the key scraped in the lock. So he was to be fed, at least. How long would Dana leave him here? Would one night be a sufficient punishment in her eyes, or--

He gasped aloud at the thought that she might never release him at all. Perhaps the rest of his life was to be spent in this damp, cold room, dependent upon the meals and whatever light he could beg from the servants. He supposed he was lucky Dana hadn't simply given him over to the servants, to be their resident toy, but who would stop them if they chose to take advantage while he was here, helpless, and out of sight and hearing of the rest of the household? Dana didn't want her sister touching him, or another woman taking him to her bed, and yet she tolerated the servants groping and touching him--indeed, when he'd been in the stocks one particularly bold kitchen maid had even taken him in her mouth!

It was all too confusing, and Fox slowly leaned back against the cold wall, shivering as the chill penetrated his thin clothing. He was still in the night clothes he'd been wearing, never having felt well enough to bathe and dress that day. His feet were bare, and he shivered, envisioning rats and spiders, wondering what type of creepy-crawlies shared this dungeon with him.

Hopelessly, he pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and prayed that Dana would not forget he existed.



"Alex, you deserve to be flogged!"

"But--my lady--" His eyes widened in fear.

"I have no intention of taking you or anyone else to my bed," Dana raged, "and you had no right to suggest as much. You forget your place. You will endeavor to remember it in future."

"Yes, my lady," he whispered. "I am sorry."

"Clean my chamber immediately," she said coldly. "Perhaps, if you do a satisfactory job, I shall forget to order that you be punished for your insolence."

"Yes, my lady," Alex replied, humbled, and waited behind as Lady Dana left the room, followed closely by Lady Maggie, Lady Melissa and Walter. When he was alone, he glared about the room, which was in a terrible mess. It was his job to clean it up, never mind the fact that Fox had been the cause of most of the disarray.

"Never mind," he told himself as he righted a chair and began picking up scattered articles from the table. "I will get my own on Lord Fox Scully in due time. And meanwhile, I'll do my best to work my way into his lady's good graces. And her bed."



"Dana, I do believe you were a bit harsh on Fox," Melissa objected as they entered an upstairs salon. "He is Lord Scully the Younger, after all, and is deserving of respect for his position. The servant was quite forward."

"That is beside the point, Sister," Dana argued. "I will not have my husband act in such a manner." Her eyes still flashed with anger, although her manner was calm, and she noted with some amusement that Walter kept his own head down, his attention focused firmly on his feet.

Feeling a bit of mischievousness, she questioned, "What do you think, Walter? Was I too stern with Fox?"

He gulped and raised his head, carefully concealed panic in his eyes. With Lady Dana's current state of mind, he feared one mis-step might land him in the dungeon next to Fox. He only prayed that Maggie would intervene in such an instance.

"I would not wish anyone to be in such a situation, my lady," he answered at last, his tone conveying quiet dignity. "Fox, however, is yours to do with as you please."

"Excellent response," Dana commented, ignoring the feeling of guilt that nagged at her conscience. She refused to allow her mother and sister to see the concern she was feeling for poor Fox, all alone down there in that dark, cold dungeon. The last thing Dana wanted was to appear weak in front of Melissa.

She wondered with a pang of compassion if Fox feared the darkness, realizing how little she truly knew about her husband. Already she regretted her hasty actions, but to withdraw the punishment now would lessen her stature in the eyes of her family, the servants, and worst of all, Fox himself. She could, however, reduce the length of his sentence down below. After all, she had told no one that her initial intention had been to leave him there for at least a week. Now--well, perhaps three days would be sufficient.



Once Alex had completed restoring her chamber to rights, Dana dismissed him curtly and paced the bedroom floor, wondering at herself and her harshness. It was unlike her to be so cruel, meting out a punishment far in excess of what had actually been earned. It puzzled her, that she had reacted so strongly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another knock at the door, this one tentative and soft. Dana swore angrily under her breath, convinced that if it was another servant offering himself to her, she would have the silly ass flogged at once.

Instead, she was taken aback to see her step-father standing outside her chamber, his face calm and impassive.

"Yes, Walter?"

"My lady, I should like your permission to go to Fox," he said gravely. "I'm certain he must be overly frightened, and if you would permit me, I should like to reassure him."

She stared at him, surprised at his unexpected show of compassion toward her husband, and quickly realized that it would be a way of softening the blow to poor Fox without appearing to capitulate.

"Does Mother know you are here?" she asked suspiciously.

Walter looked shocked at her question. "But of course, my lady!"

"Yes, you may go to him," she allowed at last. "But you are not to release him."

"Thank you, my lady," he replied quietly, and turned to go.

"Walter," she said hurriedly, holding out her hand for him to wait. Opening a chest beside the bed, she withdrew an old but comfortable quilt. "Give him this. I'm certain he's cold."

He stared at her for a moment, as if not believing her generosity, then took the quilt with a smile. "Thank you, my lady," he said again, and turned to go.

"Walter."

He turned back, and she stood indecisively for a moment, then pushed on. "You needn't mention the quilt came from me."

He inclined his head gracefully and left her.

Later, climbing into her bed, missing his strong arms and the sweetness of his company, she reconsidered. Three days was also three nights, and she had no wish to spend three nights alone. Since she had no desire for any other man at this time, she told herself, perhaps one night would be enough to get the message through to Fox that she was not to be trifled with. Yes, he was a bright young man. Surely one night in the dungeon would be sufficient. She was of half a mind to go and get him now, telling him that she wished his company, but quickly rejected the idea. He did deserve punishment, and to appear weak was a crime of the largest magnitude in the eyes of a Scully woman. Fox would remain downstairs tonight, and she would release him just after lunch.

Or maybe breakfast.



Fox expected Sarah would be the one to bring his supper, but instead, Walter appeared carrying a small loaf of bread and a trencher of water, a quilt flung over his shoulder.

He gazed up at Walter with wide, hurt eyes when he opened the door, and Walter's glance immediately went to the torch in the sconce, burned almost to nothingness by now.

"Please don't take it away," he implored, hugging his knees tightly to himself.

"Of course I won't," Walter replied, settling the quilt around the younger man's shoulders.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, accepting the bread and water. "Have you an idea when I am to be released?"

Walter shook his head. "I do not know. Lady Dana is fearsome angry."

"She was right to anger," Fox said softly. "I should not have attacked the new maid."

Walter's jaw tightened momentarily. "A decent man whould not have baited you so. And Dana was too harsh, but that is her right as your lady."

Fox nodded, eyes downcast, and Walter raised an eyebrow.

"Why did you attack him?" he asked curiously.

Fox flushed, chewing a mouthful of bread. "I was...taken aback," he finally confessed. "And he offered himself to Dana without shame or hesitation! He was very attractive, and I--I feared my lady would find his company preferable to mine."

"Some would say he did nothing wrong," Walter observed.

"And what do you say, Walter?"

Walter sighed. "As difficult as it may be for you to accept, Fox, many people would agree that he was right to offer his services to Lady Dana while you are ailing."

"Perhaps," Fox argued, rebellion flashing in his eyes, "but he was rude to do it so blatantly, and in my very presence. I may be only a man, Walter, but I am still Lord Scully, and as such outrank a mere male servant in status."

"It was unkind," Walter agreed, "and Lady Melissa said as much. However, it is your lady's decision to take another man to her bed, not yours. Perhaps when you're better, she would like to have two such pretty men in her bed at once."

Fox stared at Walter, horror in his eyes, and the older Lord Scully's impish grin faded. "Fear not, Fox. I was merely teasing you. I think Lady Dana is more caring of your feelings than you suspect."

With that, Walter took his leave, and Fox swallowed another few bites of the bread before his appetite fled. He snuggled gratefully into the warm quilt, wondering if Dana knew Walter had brought it to him. He hoped Walter didn't suffer for his kindness.

He leaned against the wall, taking deep, slow breaths, and occasionally sipping a bit of the water, as his mind continued to replay the events of the evening. Eventually, remembering his own behavior, Fox grew hot with shame.

He had acted like a common, ragged street urchin, he realized with remorse, not a well-bred man of the nobility. He had shamed both his wife and his mother with his actions. As unfair as the world might be, it was most assuredly his lady's right to take her pleasure with Alex Krycek if she chose. Fox was at a loss as to why his heart felt rent in two at the idea of Dana lying naked in Alex's arms, her soft hair caressing his stomach, her mouth wrapped around his manhood, pleasuring him in ways that made Fox scream with passion.

Tortured by the images in his imagination, Fox curled into as tight a ball as he could manage, cradling his head in the crook of one arm, and finally, shivering, fell into a troubled sleep.



"I wish to die now," Fox moaned, squinting when the door opened and Sarah's torch lit the now pitch-black room. The torch from the previous evening had long since burnt out, but Fox had been unaware, deep in his nightmares, and it was the nausea that had jarred him awake.

His sickness had returned during the night, exacerbated by the musty smell of the dungeon. He had retched a time or two but his stomach had been completely empty by then, and nothing had emerged but a few drops of bile. Exhausted by the effort, Fox had collapsed, resting his cheek against the cold floor, and had been almost uncaring when the door swung open.

Sarah carried a tray with a real breakfast this time, not just bread and water, and she expected Lord Fox to be pleased. His reaction surprised her.

"Take it away!" he begged, covering his nose to block out the smell of the tasty porridge. "Please. I wish no food."

Smiling sympathetically at his condition, Sarah deposited the porridge outside the door, then replaced the torch and helped Fox to a sitting position.

"There now, my lord, you're not going to die," she soothed, rubbing his trembling hands.

"I just want to feel well again, and to get warm," he complained. "And I want out of here," he added petulantly.

"Well, my lady is fond of you," she comforted. "I would not be surprised if this is your last day in the dungeon."

"Fond of me?" he asked eagerly, showing more animation than she expected. "Do--do you really believe she is?"

Sarah smiled again. "Of course she is, my lord. Who could know you and not care for you?"

He stared at her uncertainly. "You don't mean that you--"

"Oh no, of course not," she laughed. "Although naturally, as Lord Scully, I have a duty to see to your well-being."

"Thank you," he replied faintly.

"There, now, what is the matter?"

Fox fidgeted for a moment, twisting his fingers together nervously, before finally blurting out his worst fear.

"Did my lady take that--that man to her bed last night?" he demanded anxiously. "Please, Sarah, tell me the truth!"

It was Sara's turn to stare. "Why my lord Fox," she breathed. "One might think you've fallen in love with her!"

"That is nonsense!" he snapped. "We barely know one another. And besides, how could I love someone who would imprison me in this dungeon for no more crime than correcting a servant? A male one, at that!"

He was so absorbed in his denial that he barely heard Natalie reassuring him that it was perfectly normal that he should fall in love with his lady, that it was to be expected, that it was an honor to Lady Dana to have her husband care for her.

At last, offering him the food once more and being soundly refused, Sarah took her leave and Fox was able to examine his own feelings more closely. At first he firmly denied to himself that what he felt for his lady wife was any more than mere affection, and gratitude that she had, for the most part, been kind to him.

After all, she had protected him from Lady Fowley, she had refused to take Samantha away from him, and she had ways of making him scream with pleasure that caused him to blush at the thought, even here alone in this dungeon room.

On the other hand, her voice was pure sweetness to him--at least when it was not raised in anger. Her smile was more effective than sunshine at brightening his day. Her skin was as soft as the finest silk, and her laughter--

Fox sighed, and buried his head in his hands. Could it be true, then? Had he fallen in love with his wife, a woman who felt nothing more than desire and fondness for him, and who, at this moment, was furiously angry with him?

He felt shame wash over him yet again at the memory of his behavior. In spite of his protests to Walter and Sarah, Fox knew his actions bespoke a childhood spent in the gutter, not the gentle rearing and teaching which he had known. If he had voiced his objections to Dana, alone in the privacy of their chamber, perhaps she would have reassured him that she would never abandon him, never banish him from her bed in favor of a prettier man. Instead, he had spent the night here, tormented by the images of Alex in her bed, pleasing her. Alex was probably no virgin, he thought sadly. He would know a multitude of ways to please a lady, ways which would make Fox cringe with embarrassment.

But what could he do? Had he burned his bridges behind him? Would Dana ever forgive him his impulsive behavior?

Raising his head proudly, Fox stared straight ahead. He was Fox Mulder Scully, Lord Scully the Younger, and until his lady removed him from her household, he had a position to maintain.

He would change his ways, he vowed. He would put aside the reckless ways that had been a part of his character since boyhood and become a model husband. His conduct would be above reproach in every way, starting--well, starting when Dana let him out of this prison.

And then maybe, if he was good enough, perhaps she would learn to care for him as more than a simple possession. He didn't dare hope that she would come to love him, but perhaps she would regard him in greater esteem.

The answer was plain. He would simply have to be perfect.

End chapter 6