"It will be over soon, my love."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I told him he was to leave. And find another position. Elsewhere."
She rose up, tears still on her lashes. "Truly, sir?"
"I told him he had two weeks. However, if it happened again, we would issue a school temporary recess, until Miss Barton came or we found a new teacher. And I told him I had better never hear him raise his voice toward you again. But I have met Miss Barton; once she comes, I do not think she will allow him to get by with this kind of behavior." He was utterly serious as he stared down at her. "She is much like you, little girl. Small, but spunky. In the end, he is still to find another position, but may stay two weeks, on the condition that he changes how he treats the students. That is the first time, Merrie, that I have come upon him misusing a child in that manner. If I hear that it happens again, he will be gone immediately." He looked toward the window, then back down at her. "His behavior today was reprehensible."
She leaned against him once again. "You are a wonderful advocate for the children, sir."
"And you, my little hellion, are a fierce one,. However, I am not quite finished with you."
Something in his manner made her look up. His eyes and the tone of his voice were stern.
"Sir?"
"Do not look up at me with those innocent eyes. You flew at him like a mama lion, as soon as the children were outside. Did it not occur to you that I was there to handle the situation?"
Her eyes showed penitence. "No, sir."
"You did not see me moving in between the two of you?"
She chewed her lip, thoughtfully, and nodded. "I did, sir."
"When I am with you, Merriweather, it is my responsibility to handle things. And you are to stand back and wait on me, not to barge forward like a little bat out of Hades with all your fury. Do you understand me, little girl? This is my responsibility. I hire the teachers, and if they need to be dismissed, it is also my responsibility to do so. You do not fight my battles for me." He stared down at her penitent face and reached down, gently tracing a tear. "I am here to fight your battles for you, Merriweather Lynne Adams," he said gently. "Not the other way around."
She reached up around his neck and clasped her arms, snuggling. "I am very sorry, Francis. You are right."
He held her tightly. "The next time, Merriweather, I shall lean down into your ear and send you to the coach to wait for me. And I shall indeed punish you when I get you home. Do not ever doubt me."
She shook her head, nuzzling his neck. "I shall not do it again, sir. I promise."
When she next peeked up at him, his face held a scowl. A moment later, he glanced down at her.
"Hmm. We shall see."
CHAPTER 6
"I need to pay a visit to Lucy Grace's father," Francis said, scowling, a few moments later. Then he shook his head. "No. First, I need to pay a visit to Geoffrey."
She did not speak for a moment, wondering what he was thinking. When he did not say anything further, she reached up and touched his cheek, and his gaze dropped to meet hers, sternly. "Merriweather, if I do this—you must stand back and be silent. I will not allow you to accompany me or to intervene. Not a word, is that clear? Because, if you do—I shall deal with you. Firmly."
"Yes, sir."
"I shall not allow you to go with me. No—hear me out, little girl. And remove that petulant expression from your face immediately."
"I am listening, Francis," she said softly.
He watched until she obeyed, and then continued, "My lands are all occupied at present. But Geoffrey has land behind Pembroke—and there are three houses that are unoccupied—and Lucy Grace needs a different situation—I am trying to figure out how to make that happen." He was searching his thoughts, and she remained quiet. He looked thoughtfully out the window, for a moment, before bringing his gaze back to settle on her face. "There is one parcel of land, on the property next to the Johnson's. It needs clearing. But on that piece of property, the nearest school would be the one Mr. Styles teaches. Elias and Gleason take the wagon to pick up the children of the schools every morning now, since you are safe with me."
She sat up in his lap, and he turned her so that she was facing him. "Are you following me, my little miscreant?"
She grinned at him. "Lucy Grace's family?"
"Smart girl. However, all of it hinges on the fact that her father must want to move. And he may not."
She nodded. "And when the land was cleared, he could farm it?"
"Yes, if he desires to farm. Some men have mining in their blood and want to do nothing else. It is just a thought, Merrie." He looked down and abruptly stopped. "What? Explain that look to me. Now."
She smiled widely at him. Quietly, she leaned forward and kissed his ear, whispering softly, "Francis Adams, did you know that I adore you?"
"You are making me undone, little brat. Stop it. It is simply something that needs to be done. Everyone would benefit from this arrangement."
She kissed him again. "Yes, sir."
"And I repeat, you shall not accompany me when I go to visit Lucy's father."
"I understand, sir." But she was still smiling, her dimples evident now. He took her shoulders and held her away from him, staring into her eyes, and finally, scowled fiercely.
"Well, damnation," he growled, taking her mouth possessively and bringing her hard to his chest.
FRANCIS WAS PACING in the great room of the Pembroke estate, waiting, when Geoffrey entered.
"Francis? What has happened? Is Merrie—"
"Merrie is all right. But I wanted to tell you of a situation and see if you can help."
"Go ahead."
"I stopped by one of our schools today. And Merrie and I found Mr. Moreton mercilessly beating a little girl."
Geoffrey stared at him, his jaw pulsing. "Go on."
"Her name is Lucy Grace Kennedy. I had known Moreton could be harsh with the children, but he was holding her by the collar, off the ground, and had pulled her drawers down, beating her in front of the whole class, simply because she had fallen asleep. Then Merrie found that the child's mother is dead and she takes care of the entire house—and four younger siblings. Merrie is still fuming over it. She flew all over him like a little bat out of Hades."
There was a silence. Fury mounted in Geoffrey's face. Francis continued.
"He has two weeks to leave. A new teacher is coming in to take his place. A young woman named Cinderella Barton. However, let me explain the situation the child is in. I heard you say that you had need of someone to clear land, near your empty cottages. My lands and houses are all occupied. And Mr. Kennedy is in need of both a place to live and employment."
Geoffrey sat down and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Go on, Francis. Tell me what you have in mind."
"WHAT ARE YOU PONDERING, my little brat, in that pretty little head?"
Merrie shook her head slightly. "I was just thinking about Lucy Grace's family. And wondering how she was treated today in class."
They had left before lunch, and Francis leaned down to rearrange the basket of food Miss Constance had sent with them.
"I had planned to visit her father this afternoon. Geoffrey is to meet us there. I know I told you that you cannot go. But I have re-thought my decision. If you will promise me you will behave and be quiet, I shall allow you to go with me. I do not want any pressure on Lucy Grace's father to make a decision, one way or the other."
"I promise," she said eagerly.
Francis leaned forward, tilting her chin upward. "If you break that promise, Merrie Lynne Adams, you shall be a very sorry little girl." He paused and added, "With a very sore little bottom." The warning in his voice was unmistakable.
Merrie's eyes widened. "I understand, sir."
"All right. He may not be there now. If he is not, I—or we—may come back later." He sighed. "I hope the child is all right."
Merrie frowned, thinking of the scene they had happened upon when the
y had visited the school. She had not been able to get little Lucy Grace's face out of her mind; the despair in the child's face had haunted her continuously.
"I hope she is all right, too…" she whispered.
THE SAD LITTLE house sat alone, in the midst of a grove of trees. The roof needed repair, chinking was missing in parts of the wood planks; a window on the side was cracked. Merrie had sat next to Francis, constantly looking out the window and fidgeting.
"Sit back and be still, Merrie Lynne, or I shall turn around and take you home."
She obeyed, but not before giving him a withering glance. But the carriage was pulling up now, in front of the dwelling.
"Merriweather? Do not think I shall not remember that look, little brat. But now, let me find out for sure if this is the place, before I come to get you."
She nodded, her focus still on the house. But suddenly, she caught sight of a child's face in the glass by the door. "Sir—I believe I saw her—in the front window."
Francis stepped down out of the coach, just as he heard a horse approaching, and looked up to see Geoffrey.
A man had appeared at the door, looking with suspicion at the carriage and horses in his front yard. He closed the door behind him and stepped outward and down off the porch. He stared, with no attempt at a greeting.
"Hello, sir. Are you perhaps Mr. Kennedy, Lucy Grace's father?" Francis held out a hand, but the man standing before him made no attempt to take it.
"Papa!" a voice called from the door, and the child came running out.
"Get back in the house, Lucy Grace." His voice was gruff.
"But Papa—these are the people who sent the basket of cookies and food home with me! It is Sir Francis and Lady Merrie!" She had grabbed her father around the waist, as far up as she could reach. "They are the ones who stopped Mr. Moreton from beating me, Papa…"
The man looked down at his daughter and then back up at Francis. "Is this true?"
"It is, sir. My wife and I came only to introduce you to Lord Wellington. I believe he has a favor to ask of you." Francis bowed and backed up, motioning Geoffrey forward.
Mr. Kennedy looked down at his daughter. "Go back into the house, Lucy Grace. And watch the babies until I get back in."
"Yes, Papa." She waved at Merrie, before starting back inside.
Merrie waved back. "Lucy Grace, we have some cookies and some sandwiches that were sent by our housekeeper," she called from the carriage, looking at Lucy's father. "Is it all right if we leave them with you, sir?"
He nodded, and Francis turned to lift Merrie down, taking the basket from her. He turned toward the little girl and bent down, handing it to her. "Here you are, Lucy Grace."
"Thank you, sir" she said shyly and bounced back into the house.
A hand reached out, as the little girl's father nodded toward them. "My name is Kennedy, sirs. I am Lucy Grace's father, as you may have guessed. I would ask you inside, but I fear—"
"There is no need, sir. We can sit out here." Geoffrey moved to the porch and sat down easily on the edge of it, and Francis did the same, while Merrie stayed close to the carriage. Mr. Kennedy, however, continued to stand, until Geoffrey smiled. "Please, sir, sit down. I am in need of a favor."
"A favor?" The echoed sound was full of bewilderment. "What could I possibly do to help you?"
Geoffrey made himself comfortable and began explaining, while Francis listened. He looked once back at Merrie, who looked as if she was about to speak. But when she met his eyes, she closed her mouth and backed up.
Mr. Kennedy was still staring at Geoffrey, who had continued.
"I can pay you more than you are making now and provide you with a nice house to live in. We would take care of the repairs and provide for any medical needs you and your family would have. You could be close to home during the day while you work. I might even be able to provide care for your little ones during the day. Lucy would need to change schools, to one that is closer. Francis provides a wagon to pick up the children each day before school. The teachers we have there love the children and are very good to them." He paused. "And Francis Adams tells me that Mr. Moreton will not be at his present school long."
Mr. Kennedy's face took on an expression of despair. "I took Lucy Grace out of school. I had no idea he had been mistreating her until yesterday. That is the reason I am not working today. I must find other work. Please, sir. Tell me more about this position."
Francis looked once again at Merrie, who was nearly bouncing. Slowly, he approached her, took her by the shoulders, and turned her toward the coach, lifting her inside and leaning toward her. "I believe you would do well to remember what I told you, young lady."
Instantly, she backed away, biting her lower lip.
SHE WAITED, finally leaning forward. Mr. Kennedy was shaking Geoffrey's, then Francis' hands so hard she wondered that they did not fall off, and he was smiling. She grinned up into her husband's face as he closed the door and nodded toward the man standing on the porch. "It is set," he said, as Jackson pulled away. "And I am starving, little innocent."
Merrie grinned upward at him. "I have a confession to make, sir. I gave away the lunch that Miss Constance sent for us."
He leaned over, kissing her forehead, his voice deep, "I have one too, little missy. I advanced some of your allowance to him for the move. So Geoff would not have to cover it all."
"I have an allowance, sir?" She looked up, her expression incredulous. "But I do not need one; you already take such good care of me."
"Do not dare to argue with me, my little brat. You need your own mad money. I also intend to have Liliana see what you need in wardrobe. She is quite good. She can make it or you can pick it out and I shall buy it. Your choice."
She sighed. "I suppose I really could use some new gowns. The ones I left at home burned. And the ones I brought from school were mostly uniforms. I think most of them may not be good enough to wear at the Adams' house." She was staring out the window. Then suddenly, she brightened, sitting up. "But if you do intend to give me an allowance, Francis—"
"Oh no. The allowance is not to be used for your wardrobe."
She stared back at him. "What may I use it for then? Boots? Gloves? Hair ornaments?"
"I shall buy you those."
"Gifts?"
"For whom?"
"Your staff?"
"Our staff. And no."
"Francis! Stop being so difficult!"
"I believe it is you who is being difficult, young lady. Stop it. The allowance is for your wants, not your needs."
Merrie fisted her hands and raised them in the air. "You are impossible!"
"And you are adorable." He was grinning.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. But when she opened them again, she began pounding on his chest with her fists. Two seconds later, however, both wrists were pinned behind her back, and she was face down over his lap.
"Francis! Do not—Oh!"
Francis wasted no time in raising her skirts up and pulling loose the ribbon that held her drawers, baring her bottom, before he began planting blow after blow on her bottom and thighs, hard.
Merrie gasped. "Ow—Francis! Let me go!"
He paused for a moment. "And exactly why should I do that, my little hellion?"
"Because—ouch! Francis?"
"I am waiting on a good answer, Merriweather Lynne." The blows continued.
"Because it hurts."
He paused again, for two seconds. "I said a good answer." And continued again.
"Because I am sorry—Francis! Please?"
"That is better. Try again."
She was writhing now, and a sob escaped.
"Because I was wrong—and I am very sorry."
"And?"
"And I will never do it again!"
And?"
"Francis—I—I do not know what you wish me to say!"
He said nothing, while continuing to give her ten more swats. Finally, he stopped.
"Try a 'sir' on
that, Merriweather Lynne."
"Sir?"
He gave her five more and then stopped. "Now. Do you think you can learn to behave yourself?"
Still held over his knee, her voice sounded very subdued now.
"Yes, sir."
He released her wrists and, in one fluid motion, lifted her by the waist and sat her up on his lap to face him.
For a long time, Merrie was unable to look at him. All she could do was to stare at the front of his jacket. Finally, she leaned forward, until her forehead touched his chest. "I am sorry, sir," she whispered.
His arms folded around her. "Merriweather Lynne Adams," he breathed into her hair. "I swear, if I must, I shall do this every single day for the rest of your life. It would be to your benefit to not provoke me, you little hellion. That includes trying to use your little fists on me."
He took her shoulders and brought her back from him, staring down into her eyes.
"Look at me, Merrie Lynne," he said, softly.
Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. Her eyes were dark and dilated now." Oh, Francis…" she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life.
When Jackson climbed down from the top a moment later, Francis opened the window and said only, "Leave us, Jackson, please," before bringing it back up. Merrie was still holding on. Her breathing had gone from ragged to even and quiet now. But when he tried to move her back, slightly from him, she was completely limp.
He smiled. She had gone to sleep.
Carefully, he brought her back against his chest and reached under her gown and petticoats, pulling up her drawers. He managed to find the ribbon and tie it back, before smoothing her petticoats and gown down and lifting her into his arms. Her face was still turned into his chest, when he took her up the steps to the house.
"Good afternoon, Wendell, is Constance here?"
"I am here, Francis." Miss Constance appeared from around the corner. When she saw Merrie, in his arms, she frowned. "Is Miss Merriweather all right?" There was genuine concern in her voice.
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