by Lucy Wild
She dozed for a short time before Mama appeared, pulling back the covers and pointing to the towel on the floor. “Let’s get your nappy sorted.”
If Mama noticed the plug, she said nothing, wrapping the nappy in place as she had every morning that week. Once Rose was dressed, she descended to the dining room, surprised to find her father in conference with Papa.
“Ah, Rose, there you are,” Mr. Winter said. “I was hoping you’d join us. I have some good news.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Despite your tantrum, Mr. Carlisle would still like to meet with you. He’s coming here in an hour. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, Father,” Rose said as cheerfully as she could whilst dying a little inside. “Wonderful.”
“I better go get things ready. Good morning to you both.”
He swept out of the room, leaving Rose with Papa. She sat opposite him, putting her head in her hands, doing her best to ignore the plug pressing up into her. “What am I to do? How do I tell Father it is you who I want, not Jonathan?”
“Leave it with me,” Papa replied. “I have a plan.”
Rose barely had time to change out of her little outfit and into a grown up dress before the doorbell rang and in he came. The man who had assaulted her so brutally in the park, smiling and shaking hands with her parents as if nothing had happened.
“Good day, Rose,” Jonathan said as she descended the stairs, the plug still rubbing against her with each step. “I am delighted to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Rose said through gritted teeth. She wanted to be alone with Papa and the plug, not this villain.
“Well, aren’t you two getting on like a house on fire?” Mrs. Winter said. “Come, Obadiah, let’s leave these two to talk a while.”
Rose raised her eyebrows. Her mother was willing to leave her alone with Jonathan without a chaperone? What on earth was that about? Her question was answered a moment later when she entered the drawing room to find Titus sitting in an armchair, waiting for her.
“Your mother suggested I sit in,” he said as she walked towards him. He tapped his lap. “Why not sit here?”
Rose leapt at the chance to sit on his lap, leaning towards his ear as she did so. “I have the plug inside me,” she whispered, spinning round to face Jonathan. “Won’t you sit down?”
“Thank you,” he replied, looking across at her with a perturbed look on his face. “You always sit on your tutor’s lap when greeting guests?”
“Only when I’m a good little girl.”
“Right. Would you excuse me a moment? I’m just going to use the facilities.”
Jonathan left the room and as soon as he went, Titus grabbed Rose, lifting her dress and petticoats to look at the plug protruding obscenely from her posterior. “No underwear either,” he said. “You are being naughty.”
He bent her forwards and spanked her bottom twice, the sound echoing through the house. Rose lowered herself back onto him, reaching down for his trousers at the same time.
“What are you doing?” he hissed. “He will be back any moment.”
“He’ll be talking to Mother about how strange I am acting. We have plenty of time for me to do this.” She found his member, drawing it out of his trousers before lowering herself onto it, feeling it slide up inside her. With the bulk of his shaft in her, she brushed her dress back into place, hiding from view what was happening between her legs. She looked down. It was impossible to tell he was inside her, it looked only as if she were sitting on his lap as before.
Rocking back and forth slightly, she could feel him throbbing inside her, a sensation that sent shivers through her as footsteps echoed from the hall. Forcing herself to keep still, she smiled up at Jonathan as he walked back into the room. “You remain on his lap then. Would you not prefer to sit on another chair?”
“I am sitting on the thing I like the most.”
“I confess; you are acting rather differently to how I expected.”
“I must confess; I love my Papa.”
“Of course you do. We all love our parents.”
“Not my parents, my Papa.”
“Your Papa?”
“Yes,” Rose said, stroking Papa’s cheek with her hand. “He takes care of me. Now what would you like to discuss?”
“I am sorry,” Jonathan replied, shaking his head. “I cannot remain here whilst you behave like this.”
Rose squeezed her thigh muscles, gripping Papa tightly inside her, pleased to hear him breathe in sharply behind her. “Like what?”
“Acting like a child. It is perverse.”
“Do you not like children?”
“That is not the point. You are not a child; you are a grown woman.”
“Does that mean I cannot sit on a man’s lap?”
“It means you should have some sense of decorum. I shall bid you good day. I have no wish to speak with you again until he is gone and you have learned how to behave around a gentleman.”
Rose watched him march from the room. The moment he was gone, she began to bounce on Papa’s member, feeling him twitch within her as she did so. It took under a minute for him to fill her with seed and she slid off him just in time for Jonathan to slam the front door on his way out.
Chapter 26
Titus looked across the table at the two furious faces staring back at him. This was not how he expected things to end. “But I have not finished teaching her,” he said, cursing himself for the weakness of his voice. He felt a ball of dread in the pit of his stomach, a sensation brought on by what they had just said.
When Jonathan had left, Rose brought him to an orgasm made all the more powerful by the knowledge that they might be interrupted at any moment. He thought he had won, he thought he had sent Jonathan away with his tail between his legs. He thought he’d have Rose all to himself again.
Instead he was facing Mr. and Mrs. Winter and they looked back at him with not a hint of sympathy in their faces. “I have two days left, why would you sack me now?”
Mr. Winter coughed to clear his throat. “We hired you to turn our daughter into an adult, to teach her that the life of a child was past, that it was time for her to grow up. You have had five days and in that time she seems only to have gotten worse, not better.”
“I confess she is more difficult a prospect than I realised but I would ask you to trust me in this matter.”
“I have trusted you long enough. She had an infantile tantrum at the Planchett house and you assured me you would deal with that. I take the trouble to arrange another meeting with Mr. Carlisle and what does she do? She sits on your lap and calls you Papa. Oh yes, Mr. Carlisle told me all about that. It is unacceptable behaviour from my daughter and what is worse, you did nothing to correct her.”
“If you would only give me a little time.”
“No. My mind is made up. You may keep your fee but you are no longer welcome in this house. It is time for you to go.”
“You cannot be persuaded to change your mind?”
“I cannot. I wanted my daughter to grow up. I have no idea what you want, but it seems certain you do not want her to marry Mr. Carlisle. Do you have something against him?”
Titus thought back to that night in the park, the sight of Jonathan forcing himself onto the struggling figure of Rose. “How I feel about Mr. Carlisle is immaterial. How I feel about Rose is perhaps a matter we should discuss.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Put simply, I am in love with your daughter.”
“You are what? You cannot be serious? That is preposterous.”
“I assure you I am deadly serious. I am in love with your daughter and I would like your permission to marry her.”
“You? Have our daughter marry you instead of Mr. Carlisle? Why on earth would we agree to that?”
“Because we are in love.”
“You might be but I promise you, Rose is not.”
“It is just a crush,” Mrs. Winter added. “Nothing more. She
is too young to know true love.”
“But not too young to be married off to Mr. Carlisle?”
“You have no prospects, Mr. Burlingham. Do not take offence to my words, but surely you must want the best for Rose as do we. Could you offer the estate and the life that Mr. Carlisle could?”
Titus sighed, shaking his head slowly “I could not.”
“Precisely. Now I think it is time you left, don’t you?”
Titus was still in shock when he arrived at his office later that day. Mrs. Cartwright was asleep in her corner. He chose not to wake her. Instead he sank into his chair and put his head in his hands. Banished. It was a strange sensation. He had never been sent away before. All his previous employers had begged him to stay longer, to do more, not less. But now he had met the one woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he had been forbidden to even say goodbye to her. That hurt the most. The last time he had seen her, she had been sitting on his lap, the two of them joined together in the most intimate way. Now, he might never see her again. It was enough to send a tear rolling down his cheek. It was a lonely tear, his coldness returning and forbidding any more to fall.
He had been escorted from the house by Mr. Winter, told never to darken their doors again. He was branded a failure, mocked for his love, cursed for his presumption that they would agree to the marriage. Anita had been sent on her way shortly afterwards, catching up with him as he walked bewildered through the streets.
“It was obviously not meant to be,” she said when he told her what had happened that morning. “She is meant to marry Jonathan and not you.”
“Do you have to be so cruel about it?”
“What good is there in shielding you from the truth? Do not take on so, Mr. Burlingham. There are other women out there. You will find another one who will take your heart.”
“I do not want another woman. I want my little Rose.”
“I am sorry, I truly am. Come and have a drink with me, soothe those nerves of yours. This must have come as quite a shock.”
“No, I will go to the office. I want to look through the contract, see if there is a way to get them to reconsider.”
“Do not let this consume you, Mr. Burlingham. Let it go. Let her go. You will feel much better if you do.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”
“You know where I am if you need to talk.”
“Thank you.”
She turned and headed away, leaving him to walk alone to the office. He sat in his chair thinking his life was over. What was the point in opening the letters? In finding another job? What was the point in anything at all? His mind fixated on Rose and a thought occurred to him. Perhaps there was a way to see her, to speak to her one last time. He thought about where her bedroom was. It faced the street. Perchance he might be able to get her to come to her window, to see him, to talk to him. Maybe they could come up with a way to persuade Mr. Winter to change his mind. It was a slender hope, but one just strong enough to stop him from sinking into utter despair.
Chapter 27
Rose couldn’t believe this was happening. That morning she had been sitting on her Papa’s lap, feeling his seed fill her core. It seemed like a lifetime ago for so much had happened since then.
She had been locked in her room whilst her parents threw Papa out of the house. They only told her why she had been locked in once it was all over, once he was gone.
“There’s no use screaming,” her mother said as she stormed out onto the landing. “He’s not coming back.”
“You sent him away! How could you send him away? I love him.”
“You don’t love him, you just have a crush on him, that’s all.”
“I hate you.”
“Well, you will hate me more soon, won’t you?”
“Why?”
Before she could react, her mother had shoved her back into her room and was locking the door, leaving her hammering at the keyhole to be let out. “You would imprison me like a slave?” Rose shouted.
“Stop being so melodramatic,” Mrs. Winter called back to her from the landing. “I will let you out once you’ve calmed down. Perhaps use this time to think about growing up and acting like an adult. You are not a little girl anymore, Rose, no matter how much he wanted to make you into one.”
Rose paced up and down, occasionally crying out to be released. No one came and her voice was hoarse by the time she gave up shouting. By nightfall, she thought she was going mad. She was sure she heard a rattling at her window. There it was again. Turning to look, she realised someone was throwing stones up at the glass.
She ran to the window, pushing it open to find her Papa waving up at her. “I must speak to you,” he called out. “They would not let me even say goodbye.”
“It is not goodbye,” Rose replied, swinging her leg out over the sill. “It is farewell to them.” She quickly climbed down the drainpipe, landing next to Papa who threw his arms around her.
“What are we to do?” he asked.
“I do not know. I only know I cannot live without you.”
“Then let’s leave, together.”
“Where will we go?”
“I do not care as long as it is far enough away for them not to find us.”
Rose slipped her hand into his as they began to walk down the street. She looked back only once, bidding a silent goodbye to her childhood home.
Papa hailed the first hansom cab he saw. They climbed in, Rose cuddling up to Papa for warmth as the wheels began to turn and the horse trotted gently out of town. “Where to?” the cabbie called down to them.
“Leeds,” Papa replied, turning to look at Rose. “It is big enough there for anyone to get lost. They will never find us.”
Rose tucked herself in under Papa’s coat, her arms wrapped around him as she sighed happily. “I thought I had lost you forever.”
“You will never lose me, little Rose,” he replied, kissing her forehead softly.
The journey took most of the night, the sun rising by the time they arrived in the outskirts of Leeds. The cabbie dropped them near an enormous mill, the workers already heading inside, their shoulders bowed, their clothes in rags. “Will we end up working in such a place?” Rose asked.
“Never.”
“But what shall we do for money?”
“I have some put by. Enough to rent somewhere for now.”
“But what if it runs out?”
“Then I shall find a job. I am sure someone in the city will need a tutor and I have the most excellent references.”
“Won’t my parents warn people not to hire you?”
“I doubt it. To do so, they would have to admit what a nightmare you were, what a brat you were.”
“Do you think I’m a brat?”
“I think you’re adorable.”
“That’s not answering the question.”
“Come on, let’s go get some breakfast and then we shall find the perfect house, I am sure of it.”
They did not find the perfect house but they did at least find a house. It was a terraced property, the wallpaper in decent enough shape and no smell of mould or damp anywhere on either floor. “It will do,” Papa said, handing over a week’s rent to the landlord. “We are not to be disturbed, is that clear?”
“You pay on time and I leave you alone,” the landlord replied, nodding to Rose. “You and your daughter.”
“I’m not his daughter,” Rose snapped.
“Begging your pardon, miss. Only in that dress, you look far too young for…”
“For what?”
“Nothing. I’ll be on my way.”
Papa chuckled as he closed the door, turning to face Rose in the hallway. “Welcome home, my little Rose.”
The next few days passed in a blur. Papa seemed to be out most of the daylight hours, purchasing the items they needed to turn a house into a home. Rose was confused by the cupboards filling up with pans and utensils, some of which were a complete mystery to her. She attempt
ed to cook, almost burning the house down in the process. “I will provide the meals,” Papa said after a second day of charred porridge. “You should not have to cook; you should be playing.”
But he didn’t cook. He was out more and more, seeking work. There seemed to be none to be found. On the evening of their fourth day in the new house, Rose found him hunched over a newspaper, scanning the classified advertisements. “You’d think someone would take me on,” he said, rubbing his eyes and arching his back.
“How much money do we have left?”
“Not enough.”
“Don’t look so glum, Papa. Come and play with me.”
“I haven’t time to play, little Rose. If I don’t find work, we might end up in the dosshouse, or worse, the workhouse.”
“But I’m lonely when you’re not here. There is nothing to do.”
“I bought you dolls, didn’t I? And books too, or do you mean to tell me you have read them all?”
“I haven’t read any of them. Come on, Papa, come and play with me.”
He lifted the newspaper, holding it up so he could not see her anymore. “I must find a job before we can play. You will have to occupy yourself for now.”
Rose stuck her tongue out, not that he could see it. Scowling and muttering, she left the dining room, making her way into the kitchen. Fine, she thought. If he won’t give me his attention willingly, I shall find another way to drag him away from that newspaper.
She picked up one of their four dinner plates, holding it high above the tiled kitchen floor. Loosening her grip, she let it fall through her fingers, watching as it dropped in seconds to the floor, shattering fragments across her feet and over towards the door, the noise of it breaking echoing around her.
Chapter 28
“What was that?” Papa called out, striding through from the dining room. “Did you just break that on purpose?”
“Got your attention, didn’t I?”
He looked furious, marching across and grabbing her by the arm. “Do you think I paid for that so you could break it when you felt like it, you petulant little brat?”