The Reformer

by Breanna Hayse

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Aryanna touched Ryan’s leg shyly, her eyes big and bright. “Lord Ryan is good reformer. Thank to you. From heart,” she said, touching her chest.

  “You’re welcome, dove. Stay here,” Ryan said, standing and reaching his hand to assist his mother off the bed. He escorted his parents back down to the sitting room and accepting the tea brought in by Martha. “Well? I’m certain the two of you have some sort of comment to deliver to my ears.”

  “I do,” Brigit piped, sipping her tea, “That girl is simply beautiful and with a delightful spirit. You could do well by her.”

  “Mother!” “Brigit!” both Lords Remington exclaimed.

  “Silence from both of you,” Brigit waved her hand. “Have I ever been wrong? In addition, she already integrated herself into our family. Isn't that correct, Papa?”

  “Mother, please. I did not bring her here to take her as a wife. I brought her to offer her a chance away from the academy. I did not know of her comeliness.”

  “You did not lay eyes upon her prior to taking her on?”

  “No, Mother. I asked for her case out of sympathy for the screams I heard from her lips.”

  “Then this is surely an act of God’s will!”

  “Son, we had best depart before your mother begins to plan your wedding and the birth of your first child. Brigit, come. Ryan? Will you accompany me to review the tenants tomorrow? This drought might be causing fear, and I wish to reassure them of our support.”

  “I do not wish to leave Ary alone for a long period. Perhaps for a few hours,” Ryan said, glancing in the direction of the girl’s room. Brigit smiled, winking at her husband. Gerard simply rolled his eyes, but his approval was clear. The young woman was exquisite and brought to surface a side of their son which pleased them both.

  Ryan escorted his parents to the front door and watched as they drove from the estate, followed by Martha in a separate carriage. He turned to the sound of footsteps behind him. “Now, my pet, what are you doing out of bed? I wish you to rest.”

  Aryanna blushed as she shifted from one side to the other, staring at the floor. Ryan chuckled and led her to the water closet, allowing her privacy to attend to her needs. He winced as a whimper was heard, knowing that the prospect of sitting on the hard, cold seat was causing her pain. Anger rushed through him again, and he found himself wishing that Eliza Woods would foolishly remain in residence at the academy when his father presented himself. He knew that Lord Remington would deliver a punishment far worse than even he was capable of.

  * * *

  “Gerard, my dear, what has you thinking so intensely that your face is screwed up like an irate house cat?” Brigit asked as they started back to their home.

  “That child was beaten to an inch of her life. I have never seen such a display of anger placed upon a young bottom. Not even yours. There is no reason for that. It is pure brutality. Stewart should have stopped it.”

  “I gave you many reasons to display your anger on me,” Brigit said seriously, “yet you restrained yourself. This woman, Eliza Woods… do you feel there is a chance for reform?”

  “I believe that there is a chance for any person who wishes it. I do not wish to sound vain or pompous, but if I cannot change Miss Woods, then she cannot be changed. Are you certain you wish me to continue with this plan? You know what it will likely entail, my dear.” Gerard viewed his lovely wife with concern.

  She lifted her hand for him to kiss. “I do, husband. And I trust you will see it through. And you? Are you certain you wish me to take on the position of headmistress?”

  “Want? No, my love. Need? Yes. Those children require your hand right now to soothe their fears and redirect their minds. I will have you in my arms every chance I get, though. So be prepared,” Gerard informed her, eyebrow raised.

  Brigit giggled, snuggling into his strong arm. “I will find a way to tolerate your presence, My Lord. Perhaps you would consider having me in more than your arms?”

  “You little minx. You never fail to find an opportunity to entice me, do you?” He chuckled, watching as she shimmied down to his lap and released his growing member from the confines of his breaches. “And what, pray tell, are you about?”

  “Paying homage to the Earl of Yarlshire,” Brigit giggled again, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. Gerard groaned as her mouth tightened and she began to stroke his length slowly within the confines of her hot, wet mouth. Brigit released a sigh of content as she lapped his shaft with the flat of her tongue, pausing only to flick the tip and encircle the sensitive flesh at the ridge. The carriage struck a bump on the road and Brigit engulfed him completely.

  “Your mouth is a treasure, woman. I must say,” Gerard gasped as she began to stroke his fullness in and out of her mouth. “I enjoy your use of it much more in this manner than when it is sassing me.”

  Brigit giggled, knowing his words were not exactly true. He loved her sass, primarily because it gave him reason to spank her. She grazed her teeth against the tender flesh while stroking upward and tasted his salty precum on her lips. Gerard growled, pulling away and roughly flipping his wife to her back, pulling up her skirts and reaching for her undergarments. His eyes widened when he realized the giggling little nymph beneath him had shed her unmentionables!

  “For shame, you vixen. Now, I must punish this breach of conduct,” Gerard tsked, plunging his hard rod into her wetness. Brigit groaned, closing her eyes with pleasure as he began to stroke himself inside of her. The carriage jarred again, adding a little extra power to his movement, making her smile as she gazed into his rich brown eyes.

  “I do love you, Lord Gerard.”

  “And I, you, My Lady,” Gerard forced out as he exploded deep within her core. Brigit sighed, arching her body to meet his as she, too, released herself to pleasure. Giggling like children, they both rushed to straighten themselves as they pulled into the estate grounds, with Brigit quickly smoothing her hair and straightening her lord’s coat. They stepped out of the carriage, calmly nodding their thanks to the footman, and walked gracefully up to the house. Neither noticed the wink from the driver, the grin on the butler's face as he held the doors for them, or the knowing look that was extended towards the governess who followed closely behind them with a scowl.

  * * *

  Even after a week’s passing, Eliza repressed her outrage at the unsolicited interference of the young lord, throwing herself into her needlework and trying to calm her shattered nerves. Daily, she waited in anxious anticipation for him to present and confront her. She lifted her head to a knock on her chamber door.

  “Who is it? And why do you bother me?”

  “Pardon me, Miss, it is only the downstairs maid. Cook asked if she could have a word with you about one of your students.”

  Eliza rose and flung open the door to glare at the plain-faced girl before her. “What has occurred and why can she not handle it?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but I do not know.”

  “You don’t, do you?” Eliza snarled fiercely, cuffing the girl on the side of the head, “You don’t know anything except how to clean chamber pots, do you?”

  The girl felt tears welling in her dull, brown eyes as she looked at the floor in shame. Eliza grumbled something under her breath, pushed past the maid, and stomped down to the kitchens. Cook was standing in front of a sobbing young woman, hands on her ample hips and shaking her head.

  “What is the problem here, that I had to be disturbed?” Eliza demanded.

  “This girl here was caught with her hands in the pantry, helping herself to pastries. She said she was hungry and that you have been limiting their evening repast. I have been cooking according to your orders, and if it has not been sufficient…”

  “She would steal and then lie? How dare you!?” Eliza glared into the pale, frightened face of the frail girl.

  “Pardon, Miss! It was not like that! Miss!! No!!!” the girl screamed as Eliza grabbed a bread board at the same time
she caught hold of the girl’s ear. She easily shoved her over the kneading table, pressing her face into the floured surface.

  “Lift your skirts, now! And hold them in place.”

  “Miss, I beg you! Please!” the girl sobbed, slowly obeying. Eliza parted the split kickers, exposing her backside to all in the kitchens.

  “You would steal?” Eliza asked, crashing the broad, heavy board against the white cheeks, ignoring the scream that accompanied it. “You would lie?” Another strike landed, leaving a deep, purple mark shaped like the oval board. “You are irredeemable and must be punished for your horrific sins.”

  “Miss… it wasn’t that great of a crime. I was only concerned that they were not getting enough to eat,” Cook said, watching as the girl’s skin split in several places. “Please, she has learned—”

  “She has learned when I, the headmistress, feel she has learned. And she has not, have you?”

  “Miss! I swear, I will never…” The girl coughed out. A loud crack occurred as the breadboard split in two from the force of the impact, and the girl, unable to hold herself up any longer, fell to the floor as her knees buckled beneath her. Eliza yanked her up by the hair, forcing her to face her.

  “Once these bruises heal, you will report to my office after lessons where you will receive six strokes of the cane, every day for seven days. If you are late or fail to show, I will double it. Understood?”

  The girl could only nod through her tears, her neck wrenched back painfully. Eliza let go with a shove and watched with satisfaction as the girl slumped again to the floor. She then looked around the room, the expression on her face deadly,

  “Not one of you are to help or comfort her. Should I find out that you disobey me, I will have you dismissed with no chance of working anywhere again.”

  “Yes, Miss,” multiple mutterings were heard.

  Eliza nodded, throwing the broken board on the floor in front of the weeping girl before leaving the room. She felt exhilarated, knowing she had done a good and through job in redirecting yet another miscreant. The Lord Remingtons did not know the first thing about reform, and she was going to be certain to educate them soundly. It was now just a matter of time for them to show themselves, and everything would be put back into its rightful place.

  * * *

  “Father, I wish to accompany you to the academy. I informed Henry—”

  “This matter has already been discussed and decided. I say no. Ah, before you spout that horrid temper that your beloved mother gave you, listen to me,” Gerard said firmly, hand raised. “Aryanna still needs to have you around now to bond and gain trust. It has only been three weeks, and she is still a foundling. A trip to the academy will take longer than a few hours, and I do not feel it is wise to leave her for fear that she will believe herself abandoned.”

  “Yes, I understand, but—”

  “Silence. While I have no obligation to explain my decisions to you, I do so as an exercise for training. Your mother had connived a rather inventive scheme which I believe has merit.”

  “Mother is always inventing some sort of mischief, isn’t she?” Ryan asked humorously.

  “Which is why my heart belongs to hers. However, I wish you to listen carefully to her plan…”

  Ryan’s eyes widened as his father revealed his intent. He nodded with approval, a small smile dancing over his lips. “I must say, Father, I am much impressed. And this was Mother’s suggestion?”

  “Every little bit. I did not realize that she had been following Dr. Freud’s theories as well as she has. She may be onto something here.”

  “Perhaps. Very well, I will not interfere. However, should you need assistance…”

  “I have Martha. Again, the purpose is to reform, not seek vengeance. Please trust my judgment without further argument.”

  “Yes, Father,” Ryan sighed, bowing his head in acquiescence. Lord Remington smiled, patted the younger man on the shoulder and proceeded to complete their weekly survey of the local tenants and notate any needs that arose. They were greeted pleasantly by the farmers and families, handed baskets of homemade bread, fruits and vegetables, and other small gifts. The tenants of Yarlshire adored their landowner. Their needs were never neglected, and they were frequently rewarded for timely payments with various gifts and values of grace, and they were forgiven any penalties for a late or partial payment. The Earl made it clear that he was not there to increase his wealth off of his people but to allow them to achieve comfort under his tenancy. His selfless honesty had earned him, and subsequently his family, a place at every table in his rule.

  They paused by one home on their return, seeing the farmer on the ground, struggling with the birthing of a calf. Quickly, the two lords jumped from their horses, rolled up their sleeves, and went to work bringing forth a healthy calf from its mother’s exhausted womb.

  “My Lordships, how can I ever thank you? She is my only milk cow, and she’s been trying to push this sweet thing from her through the night.”

  “It is our honor, sir, to be able to help you,” Ryan said with a charming smile, rinsing the blood from his hands. “How are you fairing with the drought?”

  “I do well as of late, Lord Ryan. We have little here that requires watering beyond the animals and the garden. But I do thank you for your concern.” The man looked pleased that the earl’s son showed concern for the well-being of his tiny farm. “Please come inside and allow my wife to serve you tea. I would be most honored,” the farmer asked, bowing his head respectfully.

  Gerard pounded him on the back, “No, friend, we are the ones who would be honored, and very grateful. We are quite thirsty from riding the land this morning.”

  “What a comfortable home you have,” Gerard commented graciously as he accepted a cup of tea. “Thank you, Mistress,” he said, seating himself after she did.

  “Thank you, My Lord. We have never had His Lordship in our home before,” the older woman bobbed, face flush from excitement.

  “Please forgive my bluntness, but is this your handiwork? My wife is quite fond of fine embroidery,” Gerard said, noting the table coverings and napkins.

  “Yes, My Lord. I also sew dolls for the little ones. Perhaps you have any little girls?”

  Gerard eyed Ryan and winked, “We do. Three of them.”

  “Father, I don’t—”

  “Hush, my boy. The girls will love them. Do you have that amount, madam, that I might purchase from you?”

  “Oh, yes, sir! However, I wish to gift you for assisting my husband with the cow.”

  “Nonsense, woman. We did what was neighborly. This purchase is business. No, madam, I will not have any argument about it. Mind your Lord,” Gerard said in his firmest voice. Ryan chuckled inwardly, wondering what his father was up to. After purchasing three beautiful dolls, each dressed in delicate muslin gowns complete with frilly bloomers and caps, the Lords Remington were once again on their way back home.

  “Dolls, Father? I must say, this is quite unlike you. I am not planning on conceiving a child…”

  “Don’t be a nit, son. This one,” he said as he held up a red-haired beauty with green eyes, a cleft in the chin, and wearing a green gown trimmed in cream lace, “is for your mother. Women are never too old or too distinguished to receive a gentle gift such as this. Remember that.”

  Ryan laughed, “When I get myself a wife, I with lavish her with dolls if that is what makes her happy. It is certainly less pricey than jewels.”

  “Smart lad. This one,” Gerard continued as he held up a blond doll with blue eyes and a white frock speckled with embroidered cornflowers, “is for little Aryanna. Trust me, she will prize it because it is from you.”

  “But you—”

  “You will give it to her when you sense the time is right. A gift from a reformer is a treasured thing. And this one,” he said, showing Ryan a brown-haired, sweet-cheeked cherub, “is for my next project.”

  “I fear Mother is not the only one who is capable of conniving,�
�� Ryan laughed, accepting the blonde doll and tucking it under his coat. With a wink, Gerard galloped off towards his estate while Ryan went towards his own.

  Chapter Four

  “Are you ready to leave, Brigit, my love?” Gerard asked, gathering his riding gloves and hat. Brigit smiled with a nod, handing him her satchel and then pulling on her gloves. He kissed her cheek and then looked over at Martha, “Please make sure the room and clothing is ready for my homecoming. We will proceed with lessons immediately. Inform the staff of the situation and remind them about prudence and their vows to our family. I do not wish gossip to abound and risk causing harm to my lady wife or our new ward.”

  “Yes, My Lordship. Will you be spending the evening with the Lady?”

  “No, I shall be coming home directly. And thank you for your assistance. It is greatly appreciated,” Gerard said, watching the old governess blush with pleasure. He escorted Brigit out and helped her into the carriage. After riding in silence for several minutes, Gerard touched Brigit’s hand. “What are you thinking of so seriously, wife?”

  “I just wonder what causes a person like Miss Woods to behave in this manner. I understand that she was raised in a comfortable home, received a good education, and is not unsightly. What would bring on such anger?”

  “Dr. Freud believes that she lacked something in her childhood, perhaps the nurturing she required to discover her softer nature. I will explore that. Are you certain you wish me to pursue this path?”

  “Gerard, my love… I have no fear that you will succeed. I trust you, my husband. Otherwise I would never have made such a bold suggestion.”

  “I have never reformed without you present. My methods…”

  “Are effective. And Martha will help you. I am not accustomed to you being this concerned over something so trite, my love. Follow your instincts and your heart.”

  “You always know what to say when I struggle with myself. I shall miss you.”