by Lucy Wild
“We are not,” Rose replied, anger rising up in her. “I will not spend another minute in your presence. Now get out of my way.” She picked up the case and began dragging it across the floor.
“No,” Titus said, blocking the door.
“No? What do you mean no? Get out of my way at once.”
“Put down the case and sit on that chair.”
“I will not.”
As she looked at him, his face changed, the smile faded and there was that coldness again, that brute animal look to him that had so scared her before. She staggered back without realising she was moving.
“Now,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Rose sat, her hands under her legs to keep them from shaking. She looked up at Titus as he stalked towards her, looking like a lion about to pounce on a gazelle, not for food, just for fun, just because he could.
“I am going to spend a week turning you from a spoilt little girl into a fine lady fit for marriage.” As he spoke he pointed a finger towards her. “You are going to behave. You are going to do everything I say. If you don’t, there will be consequences like you have never known before in your life.”
“You don’t scare me,” Rose said in a croaky whisper.
“I think I do,” he said, an icy smile spreading across his lips. “Stay there whilst I talk to your parents. There is something they must know before I begin. If you move from that chair, I will know about it.”
Rose waited until he was gone before taking several deep breaths, fanning her face with her hand. He was the man from the park. He was probably telling her parents exactly what he saw that night. She could not stay home a moment longer.
She looked at her case. It was too large to carry down with her. She would have to survive on her wits. Pushing open the window, she slung her leg over the sill, taking hold of the drainpipe and beginning to shimmy down to the ground. “Goodbye house,” she said quietly as she went. “And good riddance to Titus Burlingham.”
Chapter 7
Titus looked across at Mr. and Mrs. Winter. They were both staring back at him as if he had lost his senses. It was a look he was used to. Most of the parents looked like that after he explained his methods to them.
“You cannot be serious, sir,” Mr. Winter said.
“Are you mad?” Mrs. Winter added.
“I am deadly serious,” Titus replied. “And probably quite mad, though that has never stopped me from achieving my goals before.”
“But to regress her to become a tiny child again, it is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“It can’t be done,” Mrs. Winter said, shaking her head. “You can’t just send someone back in time.”
“I do not intend to make her physically into a child. I intend to make her actions and her mind match her body, match her senses.”
“I am perplexed, sir. Could you perhaps explain again? A little simpler this time.”
“Your daughter, Rose, acts as if she were a little girl, correct?”
“At times, I suppose.”
“If I make her act little, she will learn to grow up.”
“But how do you intend to do that?”
“She will be dressed in a nappy; she will sleep in a cot. She will be fed from a bottle, she will be bathed, she will be dressed. She will do nothing for herself.”
“But why? What good will such insanity do her?”
“She will be so utterly humiliated by the experience that she will agree to grow up.”
“And you say you have done this before?”
“Not with every student of mine, only the especially wilful ones.”
“I wouldn’t say Rose was especially wilful.”
“Which is why she is so difficult. She does not need two parents blind to her flaws; she needs some discipline in her life.”
“We are not blind to her flaws.”
Titus laughed loudly. “You were blind to them for long enough for these problems to occur. If I am to take her on, those will be my methods. It is for you to decide if they are acceptable.”
Mrs. Winter sighed, turning to her husband. “What do you think, dear?”
“I do not know.”
Titus lifted a finger. “I might point out that in the time I have used this revolutionary method of my own devising, I have not had a single failure. In fact, the fastest change took place within an hour.”
“An hour?” Mr. Winter said, sounding shocked.
“A young lady of one of the richest families in the land was brought to me in similar circumstances to your daughter. She took one look at the nappies she was going to have to wear and agreed the same day to the engagement her parents had arranged for her.”
“One hour?” Mr. Winter said again, shaking his head slowly. “Do you think it could be that quick with our Rose?”
“I cannot speculate as to that. All I ask is that you give me free reign to do things the way I choose without interference from yourselves. Agreed?”
Mr. Winter shrugged as he looked at his wife. “I suppose it will not be for long.”
“If we are lucky,” his wife replied. “But how do you propose to dress and bathe her? Surely, you would not handle such things yourself?”
“You need not worry yourself on that score, madam,” Titus said. “I always hire a nanny for the more personal matters that arise during my tuition. If you have a preferred one, we could speak to her. Otherwise, I know several excellent ones that I could recommend.”
“She has not had a nanny for years,” Mrs. Winter replied. “I think hers has retired since.”
“Then I will send for one of my own. Do not worry yourselves, all will be well soon enough.” Titus happened to glance past them at that moment. His eye was caught by movement. “Would you excuse me for a brief moment?”
He strolled from the room, breaking into a run the minute he was out of sight. He was at the front door in seconds, pulling it open and sprinting down the road. He caught up with Rose just as she climbed into a hansom cab. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her back to the pavement. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“Oi!” the cabbie shouted down. “That’s my fare you’re manhandling.”
“This is my daughter,” Titus snapped up at him. “And I will not let her run away just because she broke a plate.”
“What?” Rose said, staring in shock back at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Kids?” Titus grinned up at the cabbie. “Always acting innocent.” His grip on Rose’s arm tightened. “Now come on, let’s go in and apologise to Cook.”
He began dragging her down the street, leaving the cabbie to his grumbling. “Let go of me,” Rose said, attempting to pull his fingers from her arm.
“I will not,” he said, not bothering to look at her. “I warned you to stay seated on your chair. I warned you there would be consequences. You chose to ignore me. I doubt you will do so again.”
He had reached the front door by this point. It still swung open and he marched through the hallway, still dragging Rose behind her. Mr. and Mrs. Winter emerged from the drawing room, the sound of her screams echoing towards them.
“What are you doing?” Mr. Winter asked as Titus headed upstairs without stopping. “Rose? What’s going on here?”
“I am going to begin her tuition,” Titus called down to them. “It is long overdue.”
He continued upstairs without stopping, pulling Rose into her bedroom, slamming the door after him. He looked at her as she snarled back at him like a cornered wildcat.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, twisting her around away from him. He sank onto the wooden chair by her dressing table, dragging her down onto his lap as he did so. Ignoring her thrashing legs, he lifted his right hand high in the air and brought it slamming down on her behind.
“What the devil are you doing?” she asked as his palm descended. When it hit, she let out a scream of frustration mingled with pain. “You are striking me!”
�
��I am spanking you for misbehaving,” he replied, raising his hand and bringing it down on her backside again. “And it is something you have needed for many years.”
“Stop it,” she cried. “Ow! It hurts. Stop it. Let me go.”
“I will when I am done,” he replied, his hand descending again and again. He kept spanking her until her angry cries became entreaties. This was the point when most people would stop, guilt or compassion stopping them from doing what was necessary. Not Titus. He had long learned that if he stopped now, it would be impossible to teach her a thing. She would know she only had to cry a few crocodile tears and the pain would go away and she’d be as bad as she ever was.
He saw it much like breaking in a horse. He had to keep going on the first occasion; he had to show them at once who was in charge. He had to make them fear him, make the fear of disappointing him so strong they would obey him without question in the future. There could be no half measures. It had to be all or nothing on the first occasion. Nothing less would suffice.
His hand began to sting as he continued to spank her. Her cries had faded into sobs, her kicking legs weakening. “Please,” she muttered. “Please stop. I beg you.”
“Apologise for disobeying me. I told you to stay in your chair. You did not. Apologise for letting me down.”
She did not reply quickly enough so he spanked her twice more, listening as she fought back her tears long enough to mutter, “I am sorry, please stop. I am sorry.”
“That’s better,” he said with a smile, enjoying that familiar tingle in his fingers as he lifted her to her feet. She stood with her shoulders hitching, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Now, sit on that chair until I come and get you and do not move. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, not looking up from the floor.
Titus had to resist chuckling as he left the room, glancing back to see her sit in the chair, her whole body slumping downwards. Things were going like clockwork. This was going to be the easiest fee he had ever earned.
Chapter 8
The sun seemed entirely absent the next morning. Rose pulled back the curtains and looked out of her window to find a sea of fog had smothered the entire town. Looking down, the ground was barely visible, what light there was, pale and grey by the time it reached her. To think, she had almost got away yesterday. If only she had not been so anxious, she might have gotten away.
She had paced up and down outside the house for sometime once she had reached the ground, trying to decide where to go. It was one thing to choose to leave but she realised she had no plans as to where to go. When a hansom cab passed by, she ran after it, hoping the cabbie would be able to suggest somewhere suitable for a lady to stay a few nights.
As she looked out of the window, her grip on the sill tightened. He had grabbed her. He had taken hold of her and dragged her back into the house. Worst of all was the fact that her parents had not intervened. He had somehow gotten them in his thrall, beholden to him instead of the other way round.
She had been spanked in her own bedroom by the most wicked of men. Her posterior was still sore, her head groggy. Every time she had rolled onto her back during the night, she had awoken in pain. Although subsiding to a dull ache, it was still there, a lasting reminder of what he’d done.
Yet he was like a different person when he came back an hour later. She had not dared to leave her chair whilst he was gone, despite the agony caused by the hard wood pressing into her buttocks. He had smiled broadly when he’d found her sitting waiting for him just as he had left her.
“Good little girl,” he said, smiling broadly. “You are learning fast.”
“May I rise?” Rose asked, shifting from side to side.
“You may. It is bedtime.”
He had left the room whilst her maid helped her into her nightclothes, returning as the maid left to tuck her in. It had been the strangest sensation, having him tuck her blankets around her. She wanted to be furious with him, to hate him for what he had done. But instead her eyes had begun to sag as he hummed a lullaby and before she knew what happened, she was asleep.
Turning away from the window, she looked across at the bed. “Was it all a dream?” she asked out loud, running her hands over the back of her nightgown. The lightest touch made her wince as her hands moved over her posterior. It was real. He was real.
She was afraid to leave her bedroom. When there came a knock on her door a minute later, she was back in bed, covers pulled up over her head. “I am not getting up, Laura,” she called out to her maid. “Away with you.”
“I am not beholden to you,” a woman’s voice called back, a woman Rose did not recognise. She peeked out as the door opened, a matronly figure appearing, a bulging bag held in one hand. “Nor am I your alarm clock. You should be up by now.”
“Who are you?”
“I am your new nanny. My name is Anita Fitzpatrick. You may call me Mama.”
“Mama?”
“Correct. Now up you get and let’s start as we mean to go on.” Mama pushed Rose’s blankets down the bed, holding out a hand to help her climb to her feet. “That’s better. Now you should wash.”
Rose moved across to the wash basin. She dipped a hand into it and yanked it back at once. “It’s cold.”
“Of course it is. Mollycoddling is over. Hot water is for good little girls who behave. Do well today and we’ll see what happens tomorrow, won’t we?”
“You expect me to wash in cold water?”
Mama crossed the room in three long steps. She grabbed the washcloth from next to the bowl and plunged it into the water. Turning to Rose, she shoved the cloth to her face, rubbing it roughly over her mouth as Rose coughed and spluttered. “What are you doing?”
“Washing you. You seem incapable of doing it for yourself.”
Rose gasped as rivulets of ice cold water soaked into her nightgown, trickling down her neck and onto her chest. “Stop it!”
“When you’re done,” Mama said, washing her neck and face with such vigour that one might think Rose had just finished a particularly filthy shift down a coal mine. “There, that’s better. Now off with that gown.”
“But my maid assists me with such things.”
“As I recall, you sent her away. Consider me your maid for the present. Come now, stop acting shy. Believe me, you have nothing that I have not seen many times before.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. I will give you until the count of three to take off that nightgown. If you are not naked by the time I reach three, your posterior will be so red, you will have to drink your breakfast standing up.”
Rose looked at the older woman. She had the same cold look to her eyes that she had thought unique to Titus. Reluctantly, she reached down and pulled her nightgown up and off her shoulders, holding it against her body as she shivered in the cold air.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mama said, turning away from her and reaching into her bag. She pulled out a large red towel, laying it down on the bedroom floor as if it was a picnic blanket.
“What’s that for?” Rose asked.
“For you to lie on so I can dress you.”
“I would prefer to stand.”
“I have no doubt you would. Come and lay down.”
“Must I?”
“I will not tell you again. Would you like me to get Papa to dress you?”
Rose thought about her father seeing her naked like this. The idea of it made her skin crawl. “All right,” she said, seeing Mama crossing to the bedroom door. “I will lay down.”
“Good, little Rose,” Mama said, watching as Rose walked across to the towel. “On your back, that’s it.”
“What now?” Rose asked, one hand across her breasts, the other covering her most intimate area.
“Now we wait for Papa.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
The bedroom door opened before Mama could answer and there stood Titus
, beaming at the sight before him. “That’s what I like to see,” he said as Rose scrambled frantically to her feet, “a good little girl. Wait, where are you going?”
“You can’t see me like this,” Rose snapped at him. “Get out!”
“Nonsense,” Mama said. “This is your Papa; he is here to look after you.”
“That…that is Papa?”
“Yes, of course. Who on earth did you think I meant?”
“I thought you meant…oh, never mind.”
“Right, well back down, please.”
Rose lowered herself onto the towel, staring at Titus the entire time. He seemed not to care about her nakedness, only glad to see her doing as she was told. “Good, little Rose,” he said once she had laid down.
“Here you go,” Mama said, reaching into the bag and passing him a square of towelling cloth.
“What’s that for?” Rose asked, lifting her head and pointing at the cloth.
“To make sure you don’t have any accidents,” Titus replied, kneeling at her feet and taking hold of her ankles.
“Accidents? What sort of accidents? Hey, what are you doing?”
“My, you do ask a lot of questions,” Titus said, nodding towards Mama who nodded back.
The nanny rummaged in the bag and brought out a dummy on a silk ribbon. “What’s that for?” Rose asked but it was the last thing she was able to say. Mama moved remarkably fast for her age, kneeling by Rose’s head and shoving the dummy into her mouth. Seconds later the ribbon was tied behind her head, holding the dummy tightly in place. It was oversized, filling her mouth and making it impossible for her to speak. She tried to cry out but only a muffled groan escaped her as Titus shoved her ankles apart.
She scrambled to cover the spot between her legs but Mama took firm hold of her arms a moment later, moved her hands up above her head. She could only watch in shocked confusion as the square of cloth was pushed under her buttocks. He couldn’t be about to…could he?