Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys

by Annabel Joseph

  The tall man had tried to keep her from this prison, tossing that vendor a gold sovereign. A whole pound! The daft man paid that for a bloody apple! But the bobbies…damn mutton shunters had their own solution, and here she sat, cold, tired, and…bleeding. She touched the sore spot on her temple again, wincing. Her head ached from the blow.

  The tall man never said what his name was and she didn't remember seeing him before, but between laundering most her life and then being homeless, her situation didn't give her many opportunities to notice the people in the market.

  She'd only come to mid-chest on him, and the swat he'd given to her backside smarted for a while. Reaching back, she pressed to see if her flesh was still sore, but all remnants of his spanking had disappeared.

  The wind had blown wisps of his hair onto his forehead, framing the soft green and brown speckled eyes that had burrowed into her during his brief discipline. His long, slender nose and chiseled jaw added to his stern countenance, but she swore a smile played at the corners of his mouth at one point. She just wished she knew what had amused him so. She could have, if given time, made the smile come to completion.

  Although their encounter had been brief, and Ettie wasn't exactly sure she wanted to have a run-in with him again, his valor and protectiveness tickled her. And with nothing else to do at that very moment, in that dark, damp cell, she fantasized about the kind, well-dressed, obviously wealthy man, who had taken an interest in her, even if it was only for a brief time.

  Surely, as handsome and wealthy as the gentleman appeared, he must be married. It seemed all the wealthy men and women married early, as did the poor, in truthfulness, unless you were plain and shy, not willing to spread your legs for the first man to show interest—like Ettie. She sighed loudly. More than likely, her marrying days would be ending soon, at the ripe old age of eighteen. She should have been married already and on her third baby.

  "Girl, get up. We must go, before you freeze to death in here or catch something. Christ, I can only imagine the typhoid and cholera in here, let alone the pox. Why are you gawping at me? Get your ass up. Move!" The tall man's green eyes had darkened to an emerald green, his lips thin with anger. After the guard had opened the door to her cell, the dandy had stepped into her cell, motioning for her to stand up and quickly snapping his fingers in haste.

  He's angry, over what?

  "Wait a dad-blamed minute!" She stood, placing her hands on her hips. "Where are you taking me? And why?"

  His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. "Are you wishing for a slating? Because my hand is always ready, and I have no problem giving you the beating you wish for."

  "Then I refuse going." She crossed her arms over her chest and flopped onto the bench on the far side of her cell, glaring at the man who now had a heaving chest. "How about you tell me what your bloody name is first, gent."

  Tugging on his vest and adjusting his sleeves, he replied with more anger than was necessary. "My name is Charles William. I go by William. I've talked to the magistrate, and he's agreed you may attend my school. It's a school for wayward women, where we train women to become refined women of society—and I hear you are indeed a woman, though you appear to be a child. And act like one, too. We'll change that flaw in your personality without delay. You deserve—and are in desperate need of—my services, Henrietta, and those of my butler and nanny, as well. You'll become a lady soon. By the looks of it, the dear Lord himself will have to assist us. Now, I've told you my name and the why of it all. Get your arse up. And move!"

  "William, it seems to me that as someone who says they refine wayward women into ladies of society, you would know how to comport yourself in a better manner than has been displayed thus far. Your anger is a bit…offing and I find it offensive to my sensibilities."

  "It isn't anger, my dear. What you're witnessing is my disdain for your impertinence. I will not be questioned any further by you. I swear by God above, if you aren't up in four seconds, I'll be blistering your sensibilities and then, we will march your reddened, sore rump to my carriage to continue the very same lesson."

  His face had become red with his tirade, and Ettie wasn't sure she had the courage to push him any further, but she didn't appreciate how he spoke to her—at all.

  "Good sir." She paused, fiddling with the worn and almost nonexistent pleats in her dress. "And I use the term loosely. I don't respond to words of anger or anger of any sort, typically. You need to address me—"

  "That's it! You were warned." Ettie had barely jumped at his declaration, when he stalked over to her in two long strides, seating himself to her left, promptly tossing her over his lap. The air whooshed from her lungs when she landed against his hard, muscled thighs, and her hands grappled on the grimy dirt floor.

  His hand went to the hem of her dress and he made to sweep up her skirts, but he stopped. "In the future, at my…school, you'll find your bottom bared for any discipline. Either my butler or nanny will be present to protect your innocence. But trust me on this fact, you'll be thrashed on the bare every single time. This spanking you'll be receiving in this cell will be the only exception to the rule."

  Throughout his lecture, his hand rested, covering the whole of her buttocks. The familiarity was unnerving and yet, comforting in an odd way. She shifted over his hard thigh with the casualness of his intimacy, quickly stopping when her sex thrummed with excitement.

  The crashing of his palm against her covered ass sounded loud, echoing off the walls of her cell and she heard the jeers and laughter of inmates enjoying the spectacle William had begun.

  Ettie hadn't been spanked for three long years, having learned her lesson the last time her father had taken her over his knee, paddling her with a heavy wooden spoon for her sassy mouth, not much unlike the comments she'd made today.

  The humiliation of her predicament and being over the handsome, tall man's lap had pushed her over the edge and tears filled her eyes quickly.

  "You will learn fast, my dear, that when I speak, you're to respond obediently and quickly. If you do not, you will be spanked, paddled or caned. You will become a respectable lady, if it kills us all…which it may."

  Her intermittent cries had become one long wail, her flesh screaming in pain and her legs and arms searching for purchase on the dirty floor. But Charles quickly and easily restrained them, leaving her at his will and mercy.

  "You'll shut that sauce box of yours, or I'll fill it with soap and paddle you some more until you learn. Are we clear, girl?" He ended the session with several hard swats to her thighs, which left her sobbing pitifully, unable to even answer.

  She nodded her head vigorously, hoping like hell he saw it and would stay his hand.

  "It seems you may have lost some of your sass, Miss Ettie." He scooped her up, resting her inflamed flesh on his thigh, but she refused to reach back to rub it or acknowledge that the fire was consuming her. Extracting a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her nose and eyes roughly and then he patted the offended area.

  "Your life will go a bit smoother, moppet, if you listen and do as you're told. You'll get up, hold my hand, and walk to my carriage as a grown woman. If you stray from this plan, we'll have another course of what you just received, but this time, you'll be bared—where we are located and who is around is of no concern to me, but I'm betting it'll matter greatly to you. So, act accordingly. Up you go."

  With a gentle shove to her back, Ettie stood obediently, not wishing to rankle him any further. At least, not yet, maybe later.

  He extended his long arm, the dark velvety coat brushing against her cold arm, his palm very red from her chastisement and he waited for her to put her much smaller hand in his—and William's red, inflamed skin was a visual reminder of how that hand would be put to use if she refused to comply.

  Slipping her hand into his, William enveloped it gently and she swore it was double the size of her small one. The heat of her spanking on his palm warmed her chilly flesh.

  "That's a good girl. Come
along, Miss Henrietta; let's begin your new adventure." He winked at her, guiding her out of the cold prison to the school for wayward women.

  God help me, please!

  "My name is Ettie…William." She looked through her lashes at him, hoping she said it respectfully enough for his tastes.

  "Yes, I'm aware. You will call me Sir or Headmaster from this point, Henrietta." He walked with her out into the now darkened street toward his carriage. "At times, I'll refer to you as Ettie, but don't ever doubt that it is of my choosing how I address and handle you. From here on out, you'll submit to my authority and decisions with very little commentary. I'll keep you safe, fed, and warm. I will not abuse you, my dear Henrietta, but that doesn't mean you won't be punished or go to bed with an aching backside. What it does mean, however, is that when you're a good girl and deserve a reward, you'll receive a special treat and hear words of praise—and yes, your beloved name of Ettie. But recompense of that sort will only be given if you're worthy and deserve such merit."

  "Is this to be a prison of another sort, Sir?"

  He blinked at her, and she wasn't sure what his expression conveyed but it appeared tinged with a bit of shock. "It is only a prison of your making, Ettie. We all erect walls around things we wish to protect. Once those walls are torn down, we're given a freedom that we didn't know existed. You'll decide when the walls are no longer needed."

  It was her turn to stare blankly at him. Had she imprisoned herself? Sequestered herself from people…men? Had she kept her heart behind impenetrable walls?

  Chapter 3

  Charles sat across from the slight, petite girl, her hands wringing with worry, and he watched her tugging at the worn, threadbare material with such ferocity, he wondered when it would tear, not if. Etti's eyes stared at her lap, and she appeared to be exerting quite a bit of energy to not look at him.

  Telling her his name was William seemed the thing to do in the jail, but the deception bothered him immensely. And although he knew he had no choice, he hoped when the time came to reveal his true identity that she wouldn't hold it against him. But, he was known in Norfolk, as well as Sussex. In fact, he'd grown tired of women fawning over him, wanting nothing more than to marry the Duke of Norfolk for status and wealth.

  He and the magistrate had come to the conclusion that schooling and training for Henrietta at the Carlton Towers for the remainder of his summer holiday would be punishment enough. Once Charles had assured the man his intentions were for good and he wouldn't violate her—at least not without her consent and a promise of marriage—the justice of the peace readily agreed. Both of them settled on the fact that she needed care and discipline, and ultimately, prison wouldn't give her either.

  Charles had decided he'd tell Ettie that the duke, being the charitable fellow he was, established the School for Wayward Women with the intention of William taking over as the headmaster, training and refining them for release to the aristocrats of society. It would be a service to the community of Carlton and Norfolk as a whole.

  The prospect of providing stern, harsh discipline to her pert backside had Charles' cock hard ever since he'd left the magistrate's office, earlier in the day. As with any young, warm-blooded male, the fanciful fantasy of becoming headmaster to a beautiful, but disobedient, woman came quickly to the forefront of his mind, and along with it, all the possibilities and plentiful benefits, none of which turned him off. No, quite the contrary, Charles had resurrected every masturbatory daydream he'd had since the age of thirteen and imagined the beauty before him in every single one.

  The little slip of a woman seated nervously in front of him intrigued the hell out of him. Ettie obviously hadn't grown up like a begging thief, her language and demeanor spoke otherwise. She carried herself like someone who'd been raised in a family that fostered schooling and etiquette of some sort for their children.

  But then it begged the question. How did Miss Henrietta become a street urchin, begging and stealing to eat? Did she have a family? These were questions he'd find answers to, unraveling the mystery of one Miss Henrietta Leticia Beaumont.

  "Stop tugging at that damnable dress before you tatter it more than it already is, and look at me when I'm speaking, girl."

  "Must you always be so gruff? I've done nothing to incur this attitude." Her eyes narrowed, her lips thinning. The pert tilt of her chin made him want to pinch it between his thumb and forefinger, kissing her plump, red lips—hard.

  "Well, your situation says otherwise, my dear. You actually did do something to invite both attitude and correction. First, you stole. This is both a breaking of not only the public law, but also, the moral code of ethics. Second, your impertinent, sassy mouth has caused you to sit on what I'm assuming is a still very sore little bottom. If I'm wrong about this, and I'll know in a jiffy by your continued bratty behavior, I'll rectify the matter straight away. But this time, Miss Ettie, I assure you, there will be nothing between your arse and my hand."

  Even though it was only infinitesimally, her eyes widened before she quickly righted them again. And damn, if Charles didn't love it. She tilted her chin up again, this time, a little higher, sniffing loudly through her nose, refusing to respond.

  Charles loved a good game of chess or the clash of swords, and it appeared he'd found someone to duel with. "I tally two cheeky responses, girl. Once we hit four, your recompense will commence. You've been warned."

  She shifted on the seat and he assumed her backside was more than likely goose bumped with dread, and he delighted in the thought. His penis stirred at the immediate visualization of her upended, her rosy bare bottom jiggling and her cunny pressed against him. And almost simultaneously, his hand involuntarily twitched, aching to bring the fantasy to life.

  "I think we should talk about the school and some of the expectations, as well as what the magistrate has ordered for your stay, which is minimal, I may add."

  She turned to stare back at him with what appeared to be no fear at all. Good for her! "What will my sentence be at your school, Headmaster William?"

  Just to hear the title, his member twitched, lengthening even further. Christ! "The magistrate says that you'll be with me for the duration of summer, learning the four R's, social etiquette, and the things a lady of society is required to know in the running of an estate."

  "But what sense does that make, when I have no husband, future prospects, or even a family of wealth, where I'll use such skills?" Her from had furrowed in confusion.

  "My dear, one doesn't learn only because he or she has prospects. You learn to enhance your life and experiences. I assure you, learning the finer things in life will only increase your happiness, giving you new opportunities."

  She scoffed, flicking her wrist at him. "That's poppycock! Whose life is enriched by silly rituals and the drivel conversation with the pompous elite? Nobody, that's who."

  "Three. You're getting closer, girl."

  Her back stiffened and she quietly cleared her throat quickly, averting her eye contact with him.

  "May I continue without further disrespect?" He tugged at his shirt sleeves, assuring the square of his cufflinks lined symmetrically with the edge of the cuff of his crisp white dress shirt.

  Once she nodded, giving him full attention, he continued, "His requirements are that you remain at the school and residence for the duration of the summer. You are forbidden to leave the property unless you're accompanied or your misbehavior will negate this convenient arrangement, and you'll complete the rest of your sentence at the prison. And, second, he wishes that you receive a thrashing with a belt for your thievery. Other than that, you'll be under my care and authority for the interval, submitting to all commands and punishments as I—or my staff—deem necessary."

  Her small mouth opened to say something, only to close again. Ettie blinked and then blinked again. "Sir. Let me comfort you. I'll be doing my penance here, and I'll not leave the grounds. I have no desire to go back to prison. As for the rest of the edict, you've already…spanked
me. No further punishment is required or necessary. I took an apple because I was hungry, and I still am, but thrashing my backside won't fill my belly will it, good sir?"

  She leaned back in her seat, her breasts pleasantly wobbling from the bouncing of the carriage, and he just barely resisted squeezing them with each hand. He swore he felt the hardened nipples on each palm.

  William shifted, trying his best to readjust the rod of steel now clawing at his pants for release. "What you received in the jail cell, my girl, was a small child's spanking. The purpose of which was to get your attention. Stealing requires a serious punishment, one you'll receive as soon as we get to our residence. If we do not carry this out, you'll be returned to the jail to carry out your sentence—if you live that long—in a cold, damp, disease-ridden cell. Nobody wants that for you, including yourself. As for your empty belly, I'm sorry life has been so rough and that you were forced to steal to stay alive. That's ending today; you'll go to bed tonight with a full belly and a very sore rump. Period."

  "You can just go to blood—"

  William quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting to see how she'd proceed, part of him hoping she'd behave outrageously, yet hoping she wouldn't, considering he still had to give her a whipping.

  She swallowed loudly, fiddling with her fingers again, becoming very quiet.

  "Good girl. You made a wise decision. The directive from the magistrate is one that we both have to adhere to, as part of the agreement for your safety and well-being. I'll not delight in your misfortune, but rest assured the task will be carried out, nonetheless." He reached out, patting her knee sympathetically.

  My cock, however, will savor the belting of your arse.

  "Oh, and there is your new home now, Ettie. Look!" He pointed to the large stone castle on the lush green hill.

  "But that's…that's Carlton Towers. You know the duke?"