by Allison West
Philip hated himself for letting Nanny Mae get that close and not noticing. How many other littles had she taken advantage of? Though she claimed it had been consensual, had it really been, or had Etta felt she had no other choice?
Etta mumbled in her sleep and as he moved to pull away, he changed his mind and stroked the blonde tresses out of her face instead. Beneath the blankets, she was warm, nearly sticky from sweat. Was she having a bad dream? He tried to soothe her, his hands caressing her cheeks and down her back.
"Papa?" she whispered, her eyes slowly opening as she wiped away the few remnants of tears. He had been correct, she had been having a bad dream. Usually the little's nanny took care of such rare occurrences, but it was his job this evening.
"Do you want to tell me about your dream?" he asked, sitting up in bed.
Etta pushed the covers down to her waist, sitting up with him. Sadness crept over her features like a dark rain cloud from above. "It was awful." She stared down at the quilt, her fingers caressing the delicate pattern.
Philip lifted her chin to meet his gaze. "What was awful, Etta?"
"Watching my father die."
He understood the severity of her pain and the fact that the dream was more real than she would have hoped. "I am sorry about your father," he said, his eyes staring longingly into her ocean blue gaze.
"Me too." Her bottom lip trembled and as she tried to avoid his stare, her face found the crook of his neck, her tears soaking through his shirt. She sobbed and unleashed a fury of tears that had been stored in her heart for the loss of her family.
Philip had known this day would come. That sadness and grief would meet her head on. He was not fond of watching girls cry, but he would comfort her, shoulder her pain, and help her move on, hopefully with him. He wanted to make her happy and prayed she desired the same.
His large hands stroked her back over the gown.
She pressed into him, tighter, her fingers clutching his shirt as if it were her life preserver and she were in a rough sea, struggling to survive. Etta gasped, finding it hard to breathe, as if water choked her lungs as the waves lapped above her head, drowning her.
He pulled her into his lap, his arms strong and warm as he tried his best to comfort her. Rocking her softly, he cradled her like a child in his embrace and listened as she hiccupped, her breathing slowly returning to normal. His touch calmed and soothed, his kisses soft and gentle against her neck as he kept her pressed close to him. He wanted to erase her pain, ease her suffering and her loss. He did not know what else to do. Many of the girls who came to the chateau had a history of difficulty and troublesome behavior, but few had lost one parent, and none except for Etta had lost both.
She was his special little. Unlike the other girls who struggled to fit in, Etta's only clash was with her past. It would always be there, a reminder of a life that she had lost. She would need to move on, let go of the pain and accept her place at Ashby. He'd yet to decide what to do with her upon her graduation. It was still quite some time away, but he'd need to develop a plan for Etta that would keep her happy. Part of that meant knowing who she was, what she loved, and what she needed. He needed her submission, it was what Philip craved, but what did she desire? What would keep her loyal only to him?
"Thank you." Her soft voice broke the silence.
He did not release his hold on her yet, keeping her in his arms a moment longer before feeling her struggle.
"What's wrong?"
She glanced at the door to the washroom. "I need to—"
"You need to what?" he asked. She had not finished her sentence, and he was not waiting until tomorrow for her to answer.
"I need to use the potty."
He helped her down from bed and walked with her into the washroom where the chamber pot sat. "Do I need to help you?" Philip was not sure what Nanny Mae did when it came to using the potty. There were some aspects of being a little that he preferred to let the nannies handle. This was one of them.
Etta smiled politely. "I can handle it."
He nodded and stepped out of the washroom, heading for the door. Philip's stomach protested that he had not eaten dinner yet. "Get dressed again, in the clothes you were wearing earlier today. I shall be outside your door in ten minutes." He gave her plenty of time to change while he checked to see if dinner was ready. She would need a nanny, since he had dismissed Nanny Mae from her responsibilities as Etta's caretaker. Nanny Vivian was still new and learning the trade, but perhaps she could step in until he found someone else. Who, though? That was always a difficult question, since he tried to keep his school of littles and their discipline discreet. Perhaps bringing one of the young women from the east wing to the littles' hall would be best. He'd have to choose someone who had instilled discipline in the girls, and yet also knew how to keep her hands to herself when appropriate.
Yes. He knew just the person. Elizabeth had been a governess for a private household before coming to Ashby Chateau. She was the first introduction most girls had to a teacher, every new pupil spent several hours with her, getting acquainted with the rules before being placed in the appropriate class. Her job, though undoubtedly important, would serve her well to keep his littles in line. For Elizabeth, the ruler was practically attached to her hand, another appendage that she found it necessary to keep on her at all times. She scared even him, her stern gaze, rough accent, and thick-bodied proportions made him feel inadequate. She was the nanny that no little would want but all would submit to. At least, that was what Philip hoped.
He headed down the hall, unlocked the door to the east wing, and went to find Elizabeth. Would she be willing to join the littles and keep them in line? Her direction and guidance were a valuable asset that the chateau had, and removing her from the finishing school would be a great loss, but a necessary one.
Chapter 15
Etta finished getting dressed. Even though Philip had told her to dress once more in that ridiculous sailor's outfit, she decided to take a moment to try and find a gown more suitable for dinner. All the dresses were above the knee, revealing far more than she thought appropriate. With the ugly white bloomers destined to poke out from the bottom of every hem, she had no choice but to choose a gown fit for a child.
She pulled the material over her head, the bright pink blinding and definitely not her color, but she wore it anyway. There weren't any gowns in the armoire that she found appealing. Would her papa ever bring her one that she did like? For how long was he expecting to keep her at the chateau? Certainly not as long as Leda, she hoped.
She secured the white stockings up past her knees. At the top a black bow sat on her mid-thigh. She slipped on the black shoes she had worn earlier and walked toward the door. Was she supposed to find Papa, or was he coming back for her? Etta could not remember. She had only been half paying attention to what he had been saying.
Opening the door, she poked her head out into the hall. "Papa?" Etta called, her voice drifting down the corridor.
The familiar click of heels on marble forced Etta back into her room.
"I expect quite an increase in pay for this, Headmaster Philip," a woman's voice barked at her papa.
"Yes. Of course," Philip said.
Etta closed the door and shuffled toward the bed, sitting down on the edge just as the strange woman came into her room.
"Get up!" the woman commanded Etta. She stalked toward her, pulling her by the arm onto her feet. "Let me look at you."
"I am Etta," she said, trying to be polite and introduce herself. Did this woman have no manners?
"I know who you are," the woman said. A slight gap nestled between her two front teeth, causing a slight hiss as she spoke. Etta felt certain she would feel a spray of spit, but it never came. "Is this what your nanny dressed you in?" She glanced Etta up and down, disapprovingly.
"Nanny Mae had her dressed in a sailor's outfit, which I told her to put back on," Papa answered.
Why was he helping this woman? Etta did not like her. Alr
eady she smelled of medicine and her tone seemed harsh. If Etta was a little, shouldn't this woman be good with children? It seemed she hated them—and her—already.
"She decided to change without permission?" The woman grabbed Etta by the waist, hoisted her over her lap and pulled down her bloomers, revealing her recently paddled backside.
The woman took charge, spanking Etta's poor bare bottom, reddening it even more than it had been on contact.
Etta's legs kicked and she squirmed, trying to break free from this beast of a woman. Who the blazes was she? She was not anything like Nanny Mae, who had been dainty and quite beautiful. This woman had muscles that could have easily been a man's, thick and robust. Her dark short curly hair sat atop her head like a mop.
"Let me go!" Etta cried, tears running down her face. What had she done to upset this woman? Not even two minutes with her, and she was getting disciplined.
The woman kept spanking Etta, giving no indication that she would let up anytime soon.
"Good little girls listen to their nanny," she barked.
When had she not listened to Nanny Mae? "I do!" Etta shrieked. She thrashed against the woman, only receiving more blows to her rapidly swelling bottom. At this rate, she would never be able to sit down again.
"Do you enjoy disobeying your papa?" the woman asked.
Etta had not thought she had done anything wrong. She'd been good, even when she had not enjoyed having a plug in her bottom or receiving a thorough examination from the doctor. "I have been good!" she wailed, her cheeks clenching with each swat as another hard slap was released. "Ow!" she reached behind her to stop the madness, finding her hands getting smacked and pushed together up above her head. Why did her papa not try and defend her? Just because she had decided to try and find something more suitable to wear for dinner?
"Good little girls do not fight me, child." The woman's voice came out as a hiss, sounding angry.
Why was the woman so furious? "I am sorry," Etta said, the tears wetting her face on their descent down her cheeks and to the floor, each droplet coating the marble floor that she'd step upon shortly.
"What are you sorry for?" the woman asked, her hand in the air, waiting to spank Etta again if she gave the wrong answer.
Etta lifted her head, her eyes finding Papa glancing out of the window. Had she disgusted him so much that he did not dare look at her?
"I am sorry, Papa." She did not want to disappoint him. He had taken her into Ashby, looked out for her in the only way he knew how, and kept her safe. It was more than she would have on the streets. Her Uncle Jack may have been paying room and board, but it was Papa who had been taking care of her.
"You are forgiven," Papa said, turning to face Etta. "You will obey my instructions in future, and listen to Nanny Beth from now on. Is that clear?"
Etta nodded. She did not want to listen to this new nanny, let alone have a nanny at all, but it seemed her papa was too busy for her. Etta recognized that he had a job to do, to care for all the girls at the chateau, but she wanted to be the only one he noticed. She wanted his undivided attention. If it were up to her, she would find every way possible to make Nanny Beth's life utterly miserable.
He kissed Etta's cheek before untangling her from Nanny Beth's embrace and helping her to stand.
"Where are you going?" Etta asked as he headed for the door.
"I have some business to attend to." He locked eyes with Nanny Beth. What was going on? What had happened to Nanny Mae? Had she been fired? If Etta had just not been so hot and flushed, no one would have known what had happened between them. Regret filled every ounce of Etta's heart. She had not meant to get Nanny Mae fired.
"Sit with Etta. Make sure she eats her vegetables like a good girl." Papa did not wait for a response as he headed out of the nursery.
"Come, little one. We have not got all day." Nanny Beth's tone was sharp and when Etta did not jump quickly enough, she grabbed Etta by the arm, dragging her toward the door. One hand gripped Etta's arm, the other hand landed a rough blow to her bottom again. "You will listen and do as I say."
Dragging Etta down the hall, Beth's pace was swift as she seemed to glide with ease. Etta could have sworn the woman was a witch. Her feet didn't even seem to touch the ground. Even though she could not see Beth's shoes because the gown she was wearing reached the floor, it appeared as though she floated effortlessly. Already Etta was coming to despise Nanny Beth. She had no desire to give her an honest chance, either.
Standing in the dining hall was a young man in his late twenties or early thirties, in a pinstripe suit and donning a hat. His hair was as black as coal and his eyes as dark as night. "I am here for Henrietta Waters."
Etta shuffled her feet, pulling away from Nanny Beth's grasp. "That is me," Etta said. "I am Henrietta. Who are you?" She may have hated to be called by her given name, but the chance of a reprieve from her new nanny made her jump at the opportunity to be Henrietta once again.
"Do not talk to the little one. You do your business with the headmaster or the other papas." Nanny Beth stalked closer to the strange gentleman. "The littles are to be left alone."
A confused look crossed the man's face. He shook his head, dismissing her questions. "I am here for Henrietta." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he retrieved a document, handing it to Nanny Beth for her examination. "She is to be my wife. I am taking her from this establishment at once. I have already spoken to Headmaster Philip. He assured me that you would hand her over without reservation."
Nanny Beth quietly read through the piece of paper, taking in the information without a word.
"What?" Etta's eyes widened. "This cannot be." She did not even know this man! Had she done something to disappoint Papa so badly that he had married her off to the first available bachelor whose path he crossed? Had that been why he had not stopped Nanny Beth from spanking her? Did he believe she had been a bad little one?
"I see," Nanny Beth said, still examining the paper in her hands.
"You can't make me go with you!" Etta took a step back. She refused to leave with a stranger. Her papa owed her the decency of saying goodbye if he wanted her gone and out of his hair.
"Actually, Henrietta, I can. I have the paperwork that permits us to be married at once."
"No." Etta shook her head, her eyes wide. She didn't believe him. "You are a liar!" There was no way she would willingly leave the chateau with this stranger. Any relief she had momentarily felt to be out of Nanny Beth's clutches had drained from her mind.
"Perhaps you should interrupt him from his busy day to release a charge from his care," the gentleman said. "Go and find the headmaster if you don't believe we have spoken about this matter in depth."
Nanny Beth folded the letter with shaking hands, offering it back to the gentleman and turning to Etta. "Do you know this gentleman?"
Etta shook her head. "I have never seen him before today."
"Your father insisted we marry. The document includes his signature," the man said. "Have a second look."
"My father is dead! Same as you will be if you don't leave this instant!" Etta's top lip curled as she threatened him to get out of Ashby. He did not belong here. Didn't Nanny Beth recognize that? Where were the other nannies and papas? With all the commotion, where was her papa, Philip?
"Silence, child!" Nanny Beth swatted Etta's bottom.
With the dress being far too short and scandalous, the bloomers were the only level of protection against her raw backside. The spanking still hurt profusely.
"I assure you that I have spoken in length with your headmaster. He assured me that my paperwork is in order, but if you cannot get him down here at once, I can bring in my lawyer and make this a much more public matter."
"No. That will not be necessary. Etta, you are to go with Mr. Maddock."
Etta's eyes widened and she shook her head. "Please, you cannot do this!" She took several tentative steps back, though where would she run to? How far would she get without making a scene and onl
y causing more trouble. Did Papa really want her gone?
"Grab your belongings at once," Mr. Maddock said.
Etta had nothing. The clothes she'd come to Ashby with had been taken away. Did they store the dress for safe keeping, or toss it into a furnace?
"She is ready as she is," Nanny Beth said. Her hands gripped Etta's shoulders, pushing her toward the stranger. "Go with your new papa."
Mr. Maddock cleared his throat. "I am not her papa. I am her betrothed." He snatched Etta's hand and led her down the hall and through the doors that led outside.
"Who did this?" Etta asked, trying to yank her hand from Mr. Maddock's. Had it been Papa Philip's doing, or her Uncle Jack's?
"The only one doing anything is you, Henrietta. I suggest you come with me or face my belt the moment we get into the carriage."
Etta shut her mouth. It seemed Papa Philip had perhaps been the one to send her away. Wordlessly, she followed the gentleman to his carriage. The sky had grown dark and her stomach rumbled from having missed dinner.
He opened and shut the coach door for her, sitting down opposite her in the carriage.
She stared out of the window, at the darkness of night. "Where are we going?" Etta asked.
"To my home," he answered, not elaborating any further.
"Mr. Maddock. Do you have a first name? If we are to be wed, I think I should know what it is."
He nodded. "Yes. It is Thomas." The horses inched forward, moving the carriage along with them through the open, wrought-iron gates out of Ashby's property. "You will come home with me and we shall be wed at once. I need a mother to my two girls, and you seem quite capable, once we get you out of that hideous dress. You are a grown woman and you will be expected to dress and behave as such."
Etta's eyes welled, and she felt grateful for the lack of moonlight to show her features. Already she missed the chateau—since her father had passed away, it was the closest thing to a home she had found. Had she been such a terrible little that Papa Philip had sent her away to marry the first man available? "You have two children?" she repeated.