Eliza obeyed, leaning back and closing her eyes. She felt a genuine ache for what Aryanna was to face the following day. A single tear pooled in the corner of her eye, wishing that she could do something to stop it.
* * *
Ryan stepped outside to the porch and settled in the swing that overlooked the pond. The night was warm and loud with the sounds of frogs and crickets, and he longed to hold Aryanna next to him to enjoy it. He dreaded his chore for the upcoming day, part of him hoping that he would have reason to delay it. His father had been firm regarding dealing swiftly and fairly with bad deeds, and that the only reason to take pause was to be able to administer punishment calmly and without anger or resentment. Ryan felt neither, but he agreed with his parents that Aryanna needed the night to feel true remorse and guilt over her behavior. True, the jealousy was not unwarranted. Ryan understood that. But slapping him was, for it showed her inability to maintain herself in a proper manner when facing difficulty. Part of reform was to teach the girls how to face conflict and struggles appropriately, and to respond—rather than react—to things in a way that would not bring them more pain.
Ryan rubbed his neck. He hated bringing any type of pain to Aryanna, emotionally or physically. He did not deny her wrongdoings—for those she had to be disciplined. He just wished that he did not have to be the one who did it. He looked over his shoulder as Aryanna came through the door, bare-footed and in her sleeping dress. She kneeled at his feet and placed her head on his knee, a gesture that touched his heart in the deepest of ways. Silently, he stroked her hair, petting her gently as though to soothe away her fears. He felt her hot tears soaking through his pants.
“It's late, dove. Why are you out of bed?” he asked, his hand resting gently on her wet cheek.
“I am so sorry, Lord Ryan. I… I love you,” she whispered, not moving from her position.
“I love you as well, Ary. Lord, how I love you. I know I shouldn't, but you have captured my heart and soul. I am your reformer. I am supposed to teach you right from wrong, not take you for my own,” Ryan quietly said.
“Hitting you wrong. I had anger. Please, punish now.”
“No, Ary. Not now. This has to settle in your heart. And in mine. Shhh, don't cry. There will be time for tears tomorrow.” Ryan said, pulling her onto his lap and tenderly wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He felt her slump trustingly against him, her head tucked neatly beneath his chin and her legs curled up in a ball against him. She was warm and soft, and Ryan was in no hurry to move. He, too, closed his eyes and in minutes fell asleep with Aryanna cradled in his arms.
Singing birds woke him the next morning, along with a chill from the dawn. Neither had moved that entire night. Carefully, Ryan stood from the swing, the girl still in his arms, and took her into the house. He laid her upon his bed and draped a quilt over her body, sitting next to her to study her delicate features. Once again, ignoring propriety, he laid down next to her and pulled her against his body as he buried his nose in her hair.
Neither he nor Aryanna heard the footsteps or the door to his room open an hour later. Gerard stood in the doorway, shaking his head. He hated to be the one to break their peaceful repose, but it was necessary.
“Ryan? Wake up, man. What is this?”
“Hmm? Oh, good morning, Father. What are you doing here?”
“I should ask the same of your bed partner. What is going through your mind?”
“There is nothing indecent. We are both clothed, and she is under the quilt. She was cold and…”
“And you could not resist her. Yes, I understand, but you have a job to do. Come downstairs. We need to talk.”
“Father, I am no longer a child. I can—”
“It's not about Aryanna. It's about the drought.”
Those words caught Ryan's attention, and he quickly followed his father down the stairs and into the sitting room. Gerard had gotten a post early that morning from another tenancy. The crops were starting to wither, and action was needed. He said he had thought about Aryanna's idea of canning and wanted to spread the word to his tenants to put that into action. He had already ordered hundreds of canning jars and grain bags, as well as barrels for water. Most of the tenants did not have telegraph services, therefore he required Ryan's help to get the word out immediately.
Ryan nodded, glancing upwards in the direction of his room. Dealing with Aryanna would have to wait. Gerard caught his gesture. “No, son. You must proceed with your duty to your home first. It would be cruel to make her wait any longer for punishment. Go wake her.”
“But Father… yes, you are right,” Ryan admitted with a frown. He excused himself and ventured slowly upstairs and into Aryanna's room, where he sat next to her on the bed. With an unhappy sigh, he gently shook her awake.
“Lord Ryan? Are you ill?” Aryanna asked sleepily, immediately noticing the expression on his face along with the shadow of his unshaven face.
“No, dove. I have business with Father I must attend to. But, before I go, you and I have a visit to the barn.”
“No, please… I be good. No more hit you,” Aryanna pleaded as Ryan stepped back, extending his hand for her.
“With me, now. Let us put this unpleasantness behind us.”
Aryanna wrinkled her brow and slowly accepted his hand. He squeezed hers gently, reassuring her of his love, and lead her downstairs. She was still barefoot and undressed as she came before Gerard. Throwing herself into his arms, she begged him to help her.
“Aryanna, stop this nonsense,” Gerard said firmly, putting her at arm's distance and looking sternly into her face. “You deserve this. Accept what is owed you and move on.”
“It hurt, Papa! Many weeks!”
“No, only a day or two. You will not be beaten, child. But you will be punished. Go now.”
Gerard chuckled as she dragged her feet behind Ryan, looking back at him with one more sad glance. Even after all these years, Gerard could not resist that expression. He threw a kiss to her and smiled as she caught it.
Aryanna stuck out her lower lip as Ryan brushed off the sawhorse and laid a saddle blanket over the top. He purposefully ignored her attempt to elicit his sympathy and pointed to the platform.
“Over that, young lady. And pull your night dress up.”
“Lord Ryan—”
“Aryanna, do it now or things will go much worse for you. You have given me no choice. This must be done.”
Aryanna trembled as she forced herself to obey, bending her stomach over the padded edge of the horse and grabbing the bar below. She held her breath as Ryan pushed the nightdress clear from her bottom and thighs, feeling more exposed to him that she ever had. Blood rushed to her face as she realized that her womanhood was clearly visible to his eyes and that there was nothing she could do to hide from him.
Ryan, too, was aware of her soft, velvety pink lips as they pouted from between her thighs. He was also equally aware of the beautiful, pale moons that graced either side of that flower. They were smooth, white and unmarked… a canvas for him to paint upon. In his right hand he held a wide leather strap that had been folded in half and joined with a wooden handle. The edges had been beveled and oiled, so nothing sharp or cutting remained. It was a tool of his trade. Silently, he lifted it to shoulder level and, with a wide arc, joined it to the quivering buttocks below.
Aryanna threw her head back in shock as the device contacted her flesh with a cracking sound that was heard echoing through the barn. Before she had a chance to react, the strap fell again, striping the tender creases that joined her thighs and her bottom. This time, a wail of pain flew from her mouth, catching in her throat as a third, equally powerful lash marked her upper thighs.
Her skin reddened quickly, each stripe etching a clean outline of the strap across the snowy field below it. Ryan gritted his teeth, allowing the strap to collide in a greater arc than before. A scream cut through the air as the mark across the crown of her bottom turned an angry red. Four strokes, and already s
he showed signs of bruising. Unaware that he had an audience surveying his work, Ryan paused, made a decision and placed the strap upon the bench. He then seated himself on a hay bale.
“Aryanna, come to me,” he ordered firmly. Aryanna sobbingly struggled to remover herself from the saw horse and obey, her legs wobbling. Ryan placed her to stand between his knees and looked into her face. “Do you feel you have been adequately punished?”
Aryanna hesitated and first nodded her head but then shook it. Gerard watched proudly as Ryan kissed her forehead before placing her across his lap and proceeding with a firm, solid spanking of her bare bottom with his experienced palm.
“I am hoping, my dove,” he said as he sent smack after stinging smack upon every inch of her backside, “that you will not force me to take you in hand again in a manner such as this. You were very, very naughty.”
Aryanna wept helplessly, kicking her feet and sobbing her apologies. It was not until she released herself to his will and stopped her struggles that the spanking ceased. By that time, her bottom reminded Gerard of a glowing coal. The older man stepped into the barn, surprising Ryan as he still held the crying girl over his lap.
“That seemed an appropriate degree of discipline. Now finish up so we can get to work.”
“Papa! I am sorry,” Aryanna cried out as Ryan pulled her into his arms. “You and Mama angry too.”
“No, my pet. We are not angry with you. We love you dearly.” He leaned forward to touch a strand of stray hair. “We just don't like how you behaved.”
“You love Eliza too?” A twinge of jealousy was obvious.
Gerard winked at Ryan. While Aryanna had repented of her mistake for striking her reformer, she certainly had not altered her feelings of possession. “We love you as we love Ryan. You are like a daughter to us.”
“Really, Papa?” Aryanna had her arms wrapped around Ryan's neck and turned her face toward Gerard. “You and Mama love me like little girl?”
“More than just a little girl. Like our little girl. Now go to the house and get cleaned up and dressed. I'm sure you have chores to do while Ryan and I go to work.”
“Yes, Papa. Ryan? I am sorry.”
“All is done now, dove. I—” Ryan was interrupted by Aryanna planting a huge kiss on his mouth, unbothered by Gerard's presence. Gerard cleared his throat as Ryan returned the gesture, jarring the young lovers out of their embrace.
“There will be time for that later, children. Aryanna, to your chores. Ryan, let us depart.”
Aryanna stood outside the front door, watching the two men gallop away on their horses. Tentatively, she reached back to rub her stinging posterior. A smile slowly crossed her face. She had a family now, and they truly loved her.
* * *
“Mama? May I ask you a question, please?”
“Of course you may. What is it? Hold still,” Brigit ordered as she brushed out the long hair after dressing the young woman to attend church.
“Might I have your permission to help Aryanna with the canning? I don't know how, but maybe she could teach me.”
“You truly wish to assist her? Then yes, absolutely. I am very proud of you, Eliza. I want you to see something,” Brigit said, standing the woman in front of the mirror. “Look at who you are becoming. Isn’t she beautiful?”
Eliza stared at her reflection. Gone were the angry lines that came from constant sternness. Her hair fell in soft, thick waves, framing a face that held some color from being in fresh air and sunshine. Her skin glowed with health, and, she looked younger and prettier than she could remember.
“What has happened to me?” Eliza asked, peering into the mirror.
“The inner beauty of who you are is starting to show. Are you pleased?”
“I'm stunned. I never thought I looked… nice.”
“More than nice,” Martha said, slipping a pink dress over her head. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Nanny,” Eliza smiled, hugging the old woman.
“Martha? Will you be coming to church with us today? I would love to have you sit in the family pew with me.”
“Madam, I would be honored. My thanks.” Martha blushed with pleasure.
Brigit hugged her. “For years I was terrified of you. I never realized how loving and gentle you really were. I am sorry.”
“Madam, I gave you good reason to be fearful,” Martha chuckled. “You challenged every instruction I gave. But look how lovely you turned out. And now, you are bringing out the same from our Eliza.”
“We, Martha dear, are all partaking in this transformation. Now, let us break fast and then rejoice in the presence of God.”
Martha scurried from the room, not wanting Lady Brigit to see the proud tears in her eyes. Her very first 'baby', a girl who was as much a child to her as if she had given birth, had truly grown up to be a woman of substance, dignity, and grace.
Chapter Twelve
Aryanna sniffled, feeling self-pity as she attempted to sit at the large table and prepare the produce for canning. The sense of loneliness was overwhelming, and she found herself longing for human companionship. She looked up with surprise as the three women entered the room.
“Aryanna, my love, how are you feeling this morning?” Brigit asked, embracing the girl warmly before touching her chin and lifting her eyes.
“Hurt, Mama. Ryan angry after I hit his face,” Aryanna said sadly. “Almost as bad as Headmistress’ leather.”
“Perhaps, but you deserved it,” Brigit stated, noticing Eliza lower her face. “Sometimes we do things that warrant a hard strapping. Isn't that correct, Eliza?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Eliza said softly. “I'm sorry about this, Ary. I know it hurts.”
“We came to take you to church with us. Would you like to go?” Brigit asked, brushing the girl's shimmering hair from her face. “It might be difficult to follow, but you won't be by yourself.”
“I am not dressed, Mama. I—”
“Nanny will help you. Hurry now!” Brigit smiled, gently pushing her towards the doorway. She then turned to Eliza. “Are you alright?”
“I frightened that little girl's heart,” Eliza whispered, “I never thought I had that type of cruelty within me. What can I do to make it right with her?”
“You have already started to become friends. She will have to heal from her fear on her own. With Ryan's help, of course.”
“They will stay together, won't they?” Eliza asked, a touch of longing in her voice.
“I believe they will. Fear not, child. One day, you will find a love for your own heart.”
“Headmaster Stewart has caught my eye…”
“Eliza, listen to me. Once you are reformed, a man like Henry Stewart will not be satisfactory for you. You will desire a man like your reformer. Nothing less.”
“Like Papa? Surely, except for his son, there are few men like him,” Eliza commented in disbelief.
“This is very true. And there are few men better. Wait for the one who can capture your heart and command your body. You need a strong, sturdy man to help keep you soft.”
Eliza bit her lower lip, thinking about Brigit's words. Aryanna did not know how fortune had smiled upon her when Ryan had come that day. She hoped she could find a way to tell her.
* * *
“Things might get bad here, son. I don't know what else we can do but offer support to our people. We have not had rainfall for too long,” Gerard commented, stopping to cool off under a large shade tree. He had already removed his riding coat and pushed up his sleeves, and the time was only eight o’clock in the morning!
“If the townsfolk do as suggested, they will be prepared as best as they can. What should we do about the other provinces?”
“Poor Nells,” Gerard said, patting the sweating horse beneath him. “I think it might be good to try out our new toy, son. What have you?”
“Mother can't argue this logic,” Ryan grinned. “We do need to save the horses from this heat.”
Gerard lau
ghed with a nod and headed slowly back to his home. He grinned as he started the Jowett automobile and placed goggles over his eyes. Ryan, just as eager, joined him, and together the two began the loud trek to the far towns to give warning of the continuing drought.
* * *
The four women fanned themselves prettily in the shady confines of the large church, the oldest two combing the congregation for possible matches for Eliza, while Aryanna attempted to focus on keeping up with the sermon. Eliza sat next to her, using her index finger to follow along with the readings and trying her hardest not to doze in the smoldering heat.
“A swim in the pond would be so nice right now, would it not?” she whispered to Aryanna.
“Yes, and not be here. I do not like church,” came the whispered response. She yelped as Brigit gently pinched her thigh, reminding her to keep quiet. Aryanna hid her mouth, suppressing her giggle, and soon Eliza too copied the gesture. Martha, on Eliza's left side, also gave a small tweak.
The pastor looked up as both girls suddenly broke forth in uncontrollable giggles. Martha scowled as Brigit joined them, and, before the pastor had the opportunity to scold, many others began to shake with laughter. Soon the building was filled with loud, rambunctious chortles. With a loud sigh, the pastor closed the Good Book, shook his head, and dismissed the service. Martha snatched the two younger women by the hand and dragged them out, followed by a giggling Brigit.
“Lady Remington? A word, if you please, madam,” a male voice called from behind. Brigit turned and flushed as the pastor approached the four women. He cleared his throat as he gazed at the girls, then at Martha. “Do I have need to discuss this incident with Lord Remington? I thought you had outgrown having outbursts during services.”
“I beg your pardon, Reverend. I was caught up with the heat,” Brigit said softly, notably chewing on her lower lip as she tried to maintain her composure. “I assure you, it will not occur again. Please, I ask your forgiveness.”
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