Shortly after her eighteenth birthday, Aunt Elsa brought a true, adult gown in the latest fashion from Paris. She ordered Jane to abandon the childish frocks and pigtails, and announced it was time to dress as a young woman. She and the maids proclaimed her beauty as they tightened the complicated corset around Jane’s tiny waist, lifted her hair into a piled of ringlets upon her head, slipped golden earring upon her lobes and adorned her head with a feathered hat. She was powdered and perfumed, and felt like a princess as she surveyed her visage in the long dressing mirror Philip had brought back for her from India. Excitement coursed through her veins as she prepared to show him the emergence of the Lady Jane.
His reaction was both unexpected and disappointing. Philip stood stiffly as Jane descended the stairs, and then glared at his aunt. “No! She is too young to dress like that! What have you done?” he proclaimed before charging from the house without another word.
His sudden departure for India the following day, leaving her only a list of rules and chores, broke her heart. She was ripe and ready to be plucked, and her raw sexuality was unsuccessfully hidden under multiple layers of soft clothing. It irked her that Philip was blind to what others saw in her appearance, and his abrupt dismissal of her emerging womanhood crushed her spirit. Jane slept on a tear-stained pillow, clutching the well-loved doll that he had given to her after his first trip to India, for nearly three weeks. Her isolation was declared ended when Aunt Elsa appeared with orders to accompany her to the infamous Baths of Epsom to provide distraction from her misery.
CHAPTER 2
Blinded by the rain, Jane pressed forward through a neatly maintained, narrow alleyway. As she neared her destination, anticipation of the indelicate and inappropriate conversations stirred her to move faster. There were no rules of etiquette at the Baths; not when everything was bared before the naked clients who lounged in the steaming pool. Jane secretly enjoyed that knowledge that she was admired by Epsom society. Her thick, wavy auburn hair, almond shaped dark brown eyes that hinted at her deceased mother’s distant Asian ancestry, and rounded bottom discreetly swathed in a billowing skirt were the envy of the ladies of the bathhouse.
The members of this unique community paid no attention to her social standing and ignored that fact that her residence was the largest manor within sight of the town; nor were they bothered by her unique education in mathematics, accounting, languages, science and history. No, Jane was an anticipated guest among the ladies of the Baths for a more intimate reasons; reasons that could not remain hidden in such an open setting.
She bore a dangling gold ring between the lips of her sex.
She recalled her father commenting that the ornament had been gifted to her when she was just an infant, by the Hindi midwife who had delivered her. Beyond that, she knew nothing more of its origin. It also had a purpose other than adornment. With the onset of puberty, Jane experienced physical changes enhanced by the presence of the ring. It bothered her at first, especially with the new growth of the softy curling hair that embraced the most intimate part of her body. She used a looking glass to study it, seeing no latch or means to remove it, so she simply trimmed around the edge to avoid any pulling. The simple gold ring now sparkled between her legs and, as her soft curls thickened, it seemed as though it was meant to remain a hidden secret for a more intimate moment.
She often wondered what Philip would say if he ever found out that Jane not only embraced the naughty pleasure of knowing she had hair between her legs, but that there was a gold surprise hidden delicately between her womanly lips. She also wondered what he would think if he learned that the secret book she had stolen from his study taught her ways to pleasure her own body. It never dawned on her to question its origin. She naturally assumed that a client from India had given it to him as a gift, which was why he kept it behind a dark shelf rather than destroy it. Philip also appreciated art, and would never have destroyed a book whose pages were filled with beautiful paintings and fascinating images of lovers in the act of passion. Jane stared at those images for hours—she would give anything to be like one of those lovely, mysterious and sensuous women. What would it be to live a life free of shame and the burden of propriety?
Her thoughts returned to her golden ring. In truth, she had never paid it much consideration until attention to its presence was raised during her short stay at the boarding school, where she suffered multiple bouts of teasing and name calling by heartless, ignorant girls. Jane pretended to ignore the taunts and try to accept the beauty of her newly maturing body and her special modification. She feigned pride in her uniquely jeweled garden until the heckling died down to a more manageable level. It was when she thought she was in control of her anger that she was called a disgusting freak and subsequently broke the nose of the weasel-faced young woman in the presence of her senseless followers.
Rejection was painful, whether it occurred to a twelve-year-old whose body was just starting to discover womanhood, or an eighteen-year-old who was discovering love. After Philip’s statement, Aunt Elsa firmly advised her not to give the foolish people in the world any power and ordered her into the baths with her head held with the dignity and elegance expected of a future Marchioness. Her ring sparkled like a tiny beacon from between her trimmed pubes, and turned every head of those attending. Her confidence was appreciated and earned the respect of all who saw her dangling charm and proud carriage.
Unable to push aside the tidal wave of memories, Jane paused mid-step and pressed her back against a brick wall. She openly acknowledged that Elsa’s plan to build her confidence served its purpose and, when Philip returned from that particular trip, he discovered a more confident and strong Jane.
***
“Philip?” Jane recalled that she tried not to show her excitement at his unannounced return and she rose gracefully from the over-stuffed chair. “I was not expecting you home.”
Philip’s smile fell from his face, and his uncharacteristically soft features grew stern. He nodded to the offer of tea as his hat, coat, gloves and walking cane were swiftly taken from him by the staff. “I did not know I needed to announce my intentions to return to my own home.”
Jane stood before him. “You do not. You could have, however, shown courtesy to the staff that they might ready things for you.”
“You’re angry.”
Jane lifted her eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, I am angry. You left right after my birthday after insulting me. What has happened to you? I’ve known you most of my life and this man before me is not my Philip. I deserve an explanation and I want it now.”
“Janie, sit down.” He sounded tired. “Life and society changes all of us. When I saw you this evening, I wanted—” he stopped.
“You wanted?” Jane practiced the tilt of her chin as taught by Elsa.
Philip took hold of both her hands. “I wanted you to be happy to see me. I know I don’t deserve to expect that after how cold I was to you. Please forgive me.”
“We cannot continue like this, Philip. I loathe the Marquis. He is not the man I care for and respect.”
“I am who I am.”
“This persona you have adopted through your title is not who you are,” Jane stomped her foot. “I cannot live with you any longer. Not in this manner. I want to assume my partnership in the company and leave this place. I have my inheritance and the funds from my father’s holdings. I can buy my own residence and have a life apart from you and this dungeon you call a home.”
“Jane,” he kissed her knuckles, “that cannot be done. You know that you can neither leave nor assume your partnership until you are twenty-one. And, if we do not marry, then neither of us has a company to work for. However, you are correct. This wall between us cannot continue.”
Jane pulled her hands away. “What do you propose we do since we are clearly stuck with each other?”
“I have a very dear friend near Sri Lanka who has a life that I long for.” Philip looked away for a moment. “He has given me
some advice about how we can find a way to be happy.”
“What advice is that?” Jane asked crisply.
“He follows the writing of the Kama Sutra. It is a book written about love and relationships. Have you heard of it?”
Jane swallowed, not wanting to let on that she had that very transcript under the mat in her wardrobe. “No one has ever discussed it with me,” she responded truthfully.
“You are too young to understand the contents, but it holds wisdom that I am trying to embrace.”
“Philip, I am eighteen years old, remember? I am not a child.”
Philip placed both hands on either side of her face. “To part of me, you will always be a child. I dearly loved that time in our lives. I have missed what we shared back then.”
“I do too,” Jane lowered her eyes.
Philip pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I want to try something. For us. Do you trust me?”
“Foolishly, I do.”
“Thank you. I will be bold because I know no other way of saying this. I wish you to continue to call me papa when we are in private. Would that be difficult for you?”
“No. I have been calling you papa since I was twelve,” Jane shrugged.
“Good. I also do not want to see any more of this unless a social situation demands it.” He gestured to her gown. “I would like you to dress so that you can run and ride horses as you did years ago. I don’t just want to teach you,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbing her jawline with his thumbs. “I want to nurture your innocence and perhaps give you back some time that my fear and pride stole from your life. I want to return some of your childhood to you, if I can. I also want to rediscover the man apart from the Marquis.”
Jane wrinkled her forehead and stepped back from him with a look of skepticism. “Philip, please tell me that you have no interest in actual children.”
Philip looked appalled when the substance of her question dawned on him. “No! Dear Lord, of course not! I would kill anyone who harmed a child and you know that! Please sit down and allow me a chance to explain.”
“I am listening,” Jane said, lowering her body to the couch.
Philip joined her. “My dearest friend has entertained this way of life within his home with his wives for many years, and it has brought peace and harmony for all of them. He advised me to encourage you to touch your inner child and, as you do, my heart will soften again. He says that I have grown hard and distant, and that will only result in destruction.”
“He is correct,” Jane said. “I just do not understand how my acting like a little girl again will help you return to yourself.”
“The innocence and trust that comes with such a relationship is the cure to a bitter heart,” Philip said sadly. “I have been spending extensive time studying these teachings. The Kama Sutra is not just about a sexual relationship between a man and woman, it is about their spiritual journey as one. I am sorry for the pain I imposed on you. I also promise that there will be no sexual overtones when I am papa to you.”
“Sexual overtones? Do you even know what those are?” Jane asked sarcastically. “You cannot view me dressed as a woman without running away like a frightened mouse. Didn’t you ever think I was pretty?”
“My dear Jane, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes upon,” Philip said, cupping her cheek. “It took me by surprise and I ran. I was an idiot.”
“Yes, you were,” Jane agreed. “A complete and total idiot.”
“Then we are in agreement. Please, Jane. Can we try this?”
“Since when does the Marquis de Courtier ask anything of a mere woman? Why don’t you just demand it be done, as you do with your horrendous rules?” Jane wished she could make her voice sound as bitter as she felt in her heart, but something inside of her prevented it.
“I am asking you because I love and respect you,” Philip said softly. “I want us to be happy together. I want to renew the friendship we had before our lives were dictated by the terms of society. Janie? If only I could tell you how much I loathe being here.”
“With me?” Jane gasped.
He grabbed her hands. “No! In England. In this house. When I am in India, it simply feels right. It is a country of music and magic, where people are at peace and allow their sense to dictate joy, not a parliament. I know you cannot understand just yet, nor do I have any right to ask you to trust me after what I have done, but please consider my request.”
“No, you do not have any right to ask anything of me. But, then, you are not the only fool in this room.”
Philip brightened. “Does that mean that you are willing to try this relationship and be my little girl?”
“I am not fully comfortable with that idea. Do you promise to not leave again without warning?”
“I promise.”
“Am I to understand that you wish me to forget all of this,” she gestured to her formal dress and hair style, “and that you want me to start climbing trees and getting muddy again?”
Philip hesitated before nodding. “Yes.”
“Are you asking me to abandon my adult behavior and act freely as though I was a child? Without punishment for behaving as one?”
Philip looked uncomfortable. “Yes, within reason of course. In return, I will give to you all the attention a young girl needs to be happy.”
“And what of sexual overtones?”
“There will be none unless you desire them. And if you do, they will be with my Lady Jane, not my little Janie.”
Jane studied him carefully. His eyes were despairing and mournful. He needed hope and she knew that her answer would give him that gift. Spontaneously, she flung her arms around his neck and nearly knocked him off the sofa. “Then, yes! Let us definitely try this! I hate these clothes and being perfect all the time.”
He kissed her forehead and squeezed her tightly. “I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too, Papa. I’m glad you’re home.”
CHAPTER 3
Being papa’s little girl was easy at first, and Jane fit into her role as naturally as Philip did his. He resumed her lessons with an enthusiasm that left her wanting more. Unfortunately, for Jane, he was still required to travel out of country on occasion and refused to allow her to join him.
“This is not fair!” Jane shouted, stomping her foot. She folded her arms and scowled. “I have every right to participate in the purchases for this business as you do. I want to go to India!”
“Jane Amelia,” Philip slowly placed his pen upon the desk and looked at her firmly. “Temper tantrums are not befitting of a young lady. Uncross your arms and sit yourself down.”
Jane shook her head, and pushed her long, loose hair from her face. “No. You can’t keep telling me what to do.”
“I can and I will. It is time you got ready for bed. Go on up and I will be in to say good night.”
Jane’s temper exceeded her wisdom. “You can’t just send me to bed because you don’t like something I said, you bloody knuckle-ass git!”
Philip stood with methodical slowness, looming over his desk to look at her. “Go to your room and wait for me.” His voice was menacingly low and calm.
Jane glared at him. “No! I am tired of…ow! Let go of my ear!”
“You and I are overdue for a discussion about manners, young lady,” Philip said, walking out of the study and up the stairs, her ear still held firmly between his thumb and index finger.
“Stop laughing at me, you old bitch!” Jane yelled at the chuckling maid as Philip dragged her alongside of him.
“Would you like me to fetch a birch bundle, Sir?” the maid asked eagerly, stepping along beside him.
Philip looked at her darkly, aware of the dislike the help had for his lady. “No, thank you. We do not use birches in this house except on bothersome servants. Return to your duties and I best not hear any gossip about this or you will be bundling sticks for yourself, understand?”
The maid paled, curtsie
d and rushed away. Jane dug her nails into Philip’s hand trying to dislodge her earlobe before they arrived at her room. He led her inside, closed the door behind him, and dragged her to the settee.
“I will not have my girl behave so poorly for any reason,” he scolded, forcing her across his lap. He released her ear and held her firmly in place with his left arm, using his right hand to raise the hem of her frock over her bottom and part the drawers covering her milky white globes.
“I am too old for this! Yeow!” Jane yelled as his hand splattered over her flesh. “Papa! That hurts!”
“Yes, darling, it does hurt. Just like your behavior hurts me,” he lectured, spanking her again. “I will never turn a deaf ear to language like that coming from your mouth, any more than I will turn a blind eye to a temper tantrum.”
“Owww. Please, no moooorrre!” Jane begged as he peppered her bottom with heavy, exact landings.
“You have been such a naughty girl, Janie. One that I am finding needs so much more than a spanking to correct.”
“I’ll be good, Papa. I promise!” Jane wept, kicking to escape his hand.
“Yes, madam, you will be good after this. Consider your good fortune that I do not have a pair of reins on hand to strap you with. I even tried to protect your dignity from the staff and not a word of thanks.”
Jane sobbed, his anger with her was like she had never seen. “I’m sorry, Papa,” she cried, her bottom cringing with every hearty swat. “I was being a shrew. I am so sorry.”
“The word I would use to describe your attitude would be ‘bitch’ since you enjoy the vulgarity of the docks. I don’t like it, Jane. Not at all. I love you too much to pretend that behavior such as this does not concern me.”
Another twenty smacks was sufficient to leave a lasting impression on Jane’s tender nates. Philip stopped the spanking and gently cupped her blazing curves, lingering over the hot flesh longer than necessary. He sighed and patted her bottom gently, and then adjusted her drawers and smoothed her frock back over her hips. He helped her to her feet and dabbed her wet eyes with a handkerchief removed from his vest.
Little Lady Jane Page 3