Claimed (The Women of Wintercrest #3) (8 page)

“Sir, it is my duty to correct this little one when she is naughty,” Anna said
firmly, her pose stiffening at his objection.  Lucas knew she felt he was questioning her authority.  Lucas did not want to embarrass the woman, but he also had no intention of allowing her to turn Lucille over her knees for something that he still felt responsible for causing.

“I know, Miss Anna,” he said using a softer tone.  “I agree vulgarity is not something any young girl should be allowed.”  Anna was nodding with total agreeme
nt.  “However,” he continued, “as I’ve taken responsibility for the dress, I find I can’t allow Lucille to be punished for my crime.  My actions have already cost her an outing with the Professor as well as an injured finger.  They shall not cost her a hot bottom as well.”  Lucy’s heart stuttered in her chest realizing he was not going to allow Mrs. Bremmer to give her a spanking, but felt embarrassed at the directness of both his gaze and his words. 

“Than…thank you, Sir,” Lucy said softly, her bottom relaxing from the clench that had begun the moment she was jerked to her feet.  Lucas turned his eyes to hers.

“Don’t thank me yet, little kitten,” he said and watched as she flushed hotly.  “You do not deserve to have your bottom roasted, but, young lady, you do deserve to have your mouth washed out.”  Lucy’s mouth dropped open for an instant and then clamped tightly shut.  Anna smiled and relaxed as she accepted his authority. 

“I shall tend to it immediately, Sir,” Anna said
, and tightening her grip on Lucy’s arm, began to pull her out of the library.  Lucas watched them go and shook his head.  He had returned to the library to retrieve a package meant for Edward.  He picked it up from the table and then bent and picked up the dress.  He set it once more on top of the sewing basket.  He knew the girl would be returned to finish her task and knew she would be doing so with a squeaky clean mouth.  He grimaced remembering the housekeeper’s soapy cloth in his own mouth when he was a young boy.  He might have saved Lucy from a spanking that he knew she truly deserved, but feared any appreciation she might have had would disappear as her mouth was expertly cleansed by Anna.  He was still thinking about the taste of soap bubbles when he returned to the front parlor to rejoin the others.  Louisa, who was sitting very quietly next to her husband, looked at him closely.  Though he gave the package to Edward and was thanked for the gift of fine cigars, Louisa knew Lucas’ mind was elsewhere.  Even though she enjoyed the rare treat of being included in the after-dinner conversation, she wished she could go find Lucille.  Something had happened, and Louisa feared it was not something pleasant.

While the others conversed in the parlor,
Lucy was returned to the solitude of the library and pressed back down onto the settee and the dress placed back into her hands.  She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sheen of tears from her eyes.  Her bottom might have been spared, but her mouth and tongue were burning.  Mrs. Bremmer had dragged her into the kitchen and scolded the entire time she scrubbed out Lucy’s naughty mouth.  Lucy was soon gagging and spitting, as bubbles frothed from her lips.  Mrs. Bremmer washed her mouth two additional times before releasing the girl, not caring that several kitchen staff witnessed the cleansing.

“You might think you were saved, young lady,” Anna said
, as she escorted the girl back to the library.  “However, tomorrow you will apologize to Lord Huntington and your guardian.  I will not have any guests in this house think we allow little girls to speak as if they were raised in a gutter.  Do not make me remind you to do as I say,” she warned.  “If I have to do so, I promise you, your mouth will not be the next part of your anatomy that is filled with soap!”  Though Lucille wasn’t clear on what the housekeeper meant by that statement, she simply nodded her head.

“Yes, Ma’am, I’m so sorry to have embarrassed you,” Lucy apologized.  Anna nodded and waited until Lucy was busy working on her mending before turning away.

“Have that done quickly, Lucille; your bedtime is only a short while away,” Anna reminded her.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Lucy said, blinking fast and moving her fingers as fast as possible as she worked the needle through the dress.  She grimaced each time she swallowed
, swearing she could still taste the horrid soap coating her tongue and throat.  When Molly entered to tell her it was time for bed, Lucy had just finished snipping the thread.  She stood and folded the dress neatly before putting in on the settee.  She knew Mrs. Bremmer would inspect the dress and decide if her work met her own high standards.  She followed Molly up the stairs, not even aware of the voices coming from the front parlor.  She was so embarrassed and so tired that all she wanted was to crawl into her bed.  Within minutes of slipping between her cool sheets, Lucy had her doll clutched to her chest as she fell into sleep.

Edward kissed his own little one good night when Mrs. Bremmer entered the parlor.  Once the girl had left them, the men accepted glasses of brandy from Eleanor and lit their cigars.  Charles was a bit concerned that the conversation obviously was going to include Edward’s houseguest.  He forced himself to straighten in his chair.  If he was suitable material for the position of Headmaster, he could certainly converse about what was necessary.  He would simply pretend that Lord Huntington was the patron of one of his future students.

“Tell me, Charles,” Edward said making himself comfortable in his chair.  “How have you enjoyed
your schooling?”  Charles could not stop a smile from crossing his lips.

“It has been very educational, Edward,” Charles said.  “I can’t thank you or Eleanor enough for the opportunity.”  Eleanor smiled and reached out to pat his arm.

“Edward, Charles is a wonderful student.  He has already captured the heart of many of my little ones.  He is a very quick learner as well,” Eleanor said with a smile.  Edward smiled and saw Lucas sitting forward in his chair out of Charles’ line of sight.  “Tell Edward about your first experience with the cane,” Eleanor suggested.

Charles felt his face flush just a bit at the memory.  He had spent eve
ry day from breakfast until bedtime at Eleanor’s school.  He had been astonished that not only such a school truly did exist, but that Eleanor’s students were all beautiful young women who were being taught how to be obedient and absolutely submissive to their future husbands.  He had seen paddlings, strappings, switchings and even a birching during his time there. He considered Eleanor a highly refined woman, but came to realize she was absolutely wicked when it came to dishing out discipline.  She had one simple rule and enforced it every moment of every day.  Naughty little girls were not coddled.  Naughty little girls were bent over, divested of their drawers and had their bottoms roasted until they were truly contrite.  What had amazed Charles the most, though, was that after causing such discomfort to a little one’s bottom, Eleanor was just as quick to offer words of encouragement, as she gently wiped tears off the flushed cheeks of her charges’ sorrowful faces.  Charles had witnessed each punished girl wrapping her arms around Eleanor and begging for her forgiveness, making promises to be better behaved.  Though the air often rang with the sounds of cries or pleas for mercy not given as naughty bottoms were strictly corrected, the air also sounded with laughter and giggles.  It had all led to his being advised that it was time he demonstrated what he had learned.

*******

“Our little Willamena was warned earlier this week that if she didn’t improve her attitude, she’d end the week with a sound caning.  If you are accepted for the position of Headmaster, Charles, administering the cane will be your responsibility.  Do you feel properly prepared?” Eleanor asked, as they discussed it in her office.  Charles felt his heart beat faster, but realized he was no longer nervous at the thought.

“I shall do my best,” he said
, and smiled.  “Of course, I would appreciate any instructions you deem necessary, so that the poor child will feel properly chastised.”

“Believe me, Charles, a caning makes a fine impression on a small bottom
, regardless who wields the rod.  Give her twelve of your best strokes just as you practiced earlier.  I’m sure that by the time you release Willamena, she will have learned a lesson, regardless of your expertise,” Eleanor assured him as she smiled.  Charles nodded and stood when she did.   In his youth, he knew the count of a half-dozen strokes was used to correct a young man’s misbehavior.  Eleanor, he had learned, did not follow normal standards.  Any girl under her authority that earned correction deserved to be completely and very thoroughly disciplined, whether it be by a hand or, as this moment demanded, a cane.  As she walked to the door to usher her student inside, Charles remembered how it had felt to use the cane against a pillow Eleanor had placed upon a chair for him to use for practice.  He looked at a large urn where several canes stood ready for use.

“Willamena, you may come in now,” Charles heard Eleanor say.  He turned to watch as a young woman entered the room, her steps slow and hesitant.  He was surprised to see that this woman was older than most of Eleanor’s students.  He knew most of her girls came to her at just a few months
before or after reaching their majority.  While most of the girls were betrothed upon their enrollment, Charles discovered that a select few chose the school for themselves.  He was learning that for some inexplicable reason, those women simply understood that they wished to live their lives in submission and obedience to dominant men.  They trusted Miss Summers to place them in homes where their wishes could be fulfilled by men she had carefully selected.

As for the woman before him,
Willamena appeared to be at least three or four years older than her sister students.  Eleanor took the young woman’s arm and guided her to stand in front of Charles.  The girl would not look up, her eyes remaining glued to the tips of her boots.

“Professor Lloyds,” Eleanor said using his title to evoke his authority over the poor girl.  “This is Willamena
Johansson.  She comes to us already wed for two years.  Her husband has enrolled her with us as he attends to business matters out of the country.  It seems that Willamena was quick to forget her place without his presence in the past. She was often seen in the most expensive shops as she recklessly spent her Papa’s hard-earned money.  Isn’t that correct, Willamena?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the girl said softly
, as Charles watched her face turn pink and her hands twist together.

“Though I’m sure her Papa taught her the error of her ways once he received the bills,
Baron Johansson decided the best place for her in his absence is under my care.  He left strict instructions as to her discipline.  I fear Willamena needs a very sound lesson to remind her that, married or not, her behavior is to reflect her station as a proper young lady,” Eleanor explained. 

T
he young woman stiffened slightly. “Please, Ma’am…you can’t…” the young woman began but was cut off immediately by Eleanor.

“You’ll discover that I most certainly can, young lady,” Eleanor said firmly.  “Did you not promise your husband you’d behave under our care?”  The girl gave a slight nod of her head.  “Correct,” Eleanor said.  “Do you believe your husband would approve of your behavior, Willamena?  You have been manipulative and argumentative all week.  You have also received several warnings as well as spankings and yet have chosen to remain stubborn and arrogant.  What would the Baron do if you behaved like this under his roof?” Eleanor asked.  

Willamena shuffled her feet, her hands now twisting in the fabric of her skirt, which Charles noticed was of the proper length for married women.  He realized he would not have been able to pick the girl as a student due to the simple manner of her clothing and her hairstyle, both of which were of the latest fashion.  If she were not standing in front of him, her eyes lowered and with her guilty manner, he would have assumed she was a guest of Eleanor’s, not a student subject to her authority and discipline.  

“I asked you a question, Baroness,” Eleanor said
, and Charles heard the woman give a soft sob.  The woman finally lifted her eyes and met Eleanor’s.

“Please, Miss Summers, I…I’m sorry.  I…I just feel so silly among your students.  I…I mean, I am a Baroness!” Willamena said, her voice showing her shock at her situation.  Eleanor smiled and reached out to trace her finger down the woman’s cheek where the first tear had finally fallen.

“Ah, little one, you are not the only titled student I’ve had in my school.  Many a lady, duchess, and other women of your station have benefitted from being under my roof.  Your title does not matter here, nor does it exempt you from necessary punishment.  All men expect their little ones to behave, most especially those that have had years of lessons at their husband’s feet.  If you choose not to do so, you give me no choice but to follow your Papa’s instructions.  As a Baroness, Willamena, you should set a proper example for your sisters.  They look to you for guidance and having a childish tantrum during class is not the sort of lesson they need to learn, is it?” Eleanor said softly.

“No…no, Ma’am,” Willamena admitted, her eyes moving to glance at Charles.  Charles saw Eleanor nod at him from where she stood next to the woman.

“Willamena,” Charles said making his voice firm.  “I believe Miss Summers asked what your husband would do if he found you to be so naughty.  Answer her, if you please,” Charles instructed.  The woman flushed hotly as she remembered her husband’s corrections of past transgressions.

“He…he would puni…punish me, Sir,” she said very softly.  Charles nodded as if expecting nothing less. 

“How would he punish you, Willamena?  What would he do when he discovered you continue to do the same naughty things even after several warnings?”  Charles asked as he removed his jacket and placed it across the back of his chair. 

“He…he would sp…spank me, Sir,” she confessed.  Edward
saw the girl’s eyes widen as he began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt.  He knew she understood he was preparing to do exactly that.  “No, please…I…I won’t do it again, please don’t do this,” Willamena said, turning back to beg Eleanor for leniency.

“You were a naughty little girl, Willamena,” Eleanor said firmly as she shook her head.  “Na
ughty girls need to have their bare bottoms punished, don’t they, little one?” Eleanor asked using words that she knew put her students into the proper attitude for a sound spanking.  “Naughty little girls, be they eighteen, twenty-five or even fifty, need to bare their bottoms and submit to discipline to help them learn to be good little girls for their husbands or Papas.”

“Please!” the young woman begged again seeing Charles moving toward the large urn.  As he selected the cane he would use, she began to sob harder.

“I…I won’t be naughty again!  I promise I will be a good little girl.  Please, please, Ma’am, please won’t you just paddle me?  Please, oh God, please don’t let him cane me!” Willamena begged.  She was no longer the dignified Baroness Johansson, she was simply Willamena, a girl who had been very naughty and knew she would be punished for her choices.  Eleanor guided her to the settee and turned her to face it.

“
You’ve already been spanked and paddled to no avail, little one.  I’m afraid we both know you’ve earned a good, sound caning, Willamena.  Now, little one, remove your drawers and lift your skirts for Professor Lloyds.  You need to show us how sorry you truly are by submitting yourself to your punishment.  You will feel far better after you’ve paid the price for your naughtiness,” Eleanor said.  Charles watched as the young woman sobbed but obeyed.  She soon had her drawers dropping to the floor and stepped from them, bending to pick them up and folding them before handing them to Eleanor.  Charles watched as Willamena took a deep breath before reaching for the hem of her skirts.  She gave him one last look, her eyes shining with her tears, her lower lip trembling even as she silently begged for mercy.  Charles felt a moment’s hesitation as he saw her tear-stained face.  He understood that if he were offered the position of Headmaster, many a young woman would be making a tearful plea for forgiveness when sent to his office for corporal discipline.  Charles realized that Eleanor was watching his every move.    Though he vividly remembered smacking Lucille’s bottom, he knew it had gone mostly unnoticed by the girl.  By the time he was done here, though, he knew that Willamena would be very aware that she had been soundly disciplined. He steeled himself to do his duty to the best of his ability. 

“Skirts well up, Miss,” Charles instructed
, and then pointed at the settee with the cane. “Bend right over, elbows on the settee and lift your bottom high,” he further instructed.  He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the young woman sobbed, but bent over the settee after pulling her skirts well up to expose her bottom to him.  Charles saw her well-rounded bottom pushed towards him.    He briefly compared hers to that of Lucille’s.  Whereas Lucille’s was much smaller and heart-shaped, Willamena’s bottom was much broader and far plumper.  Charles quickly realized that just as every individual was different, he would soon have the opportunity to compare many a naked posterior if he earned the position of Headmaster.

“Onto your elbows, Willamena,”
Eleanor reminded her, and Charles knew she was also reminding him to make sure his instructions were always followed.  Charles felt his throat tighten as he watched her lower her elbows to the settee, which both lifted her bottom and caused it to push further out into the room.  He glanced at Eleanor; she gave him a nod.

Charles took a deep breath and lifted the cane.  He remembered the lessons with the pillow and stepped forward to carefully measure the distance needed.  As he laid the cane across the offered buttocks of Baroness Johansson, he felt a calm descend over him.  “Stay in position, Willamena,” he said sternly.  “
Your behavior has earned you a dozen.  Extra strokes will be added if you fail in your duty to submit properly to your discipline.  You’ve admitted your naughtiness and it is time for your bottom to pay the price with a good, hard caning.  Are you ready to begin, young lady?”

Willamena gave a sob at both his words and the firm, no-nonsense way
in which they were delivered.  Both his tone and his instructions reminded her of her strict husband and the need to submit swept over her.  She clenched both her eyes and her bottom tightly even as she answered, “Yes, Sir, I’m so sorry I was naughty, Sir.”  Charles nodded and tapped her bottom gently.