by Maggie Ryan
Afterwards, Lucy sat on his lap, her head tucked under his chin. “Papa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for causing all this trouble.”
Lucas sighed heavily, resting his chin on top of her head. “Kitten, we’ve discussed this. This is not your fault nor anyone else's, except for mine. I should have known how Miss Browning felt. All I can promise is that everything will be fine.”
“I hope she finds happiness,” Lucy said. “I don’t wish anyone to live without love … I love you so much and can’t imagine my life without you. I … I know she didn’t like me, but, Papa, please do all you can to help her.”
Lucas was proud of his wife, proud that she had a kind heart, despite the time she had spent being subjected to Lucinda’s hatred. “I will, Kitten, I promise. Now, promise me you won’t fret about it anymore. We shall both learn from this unfortunate experience.” He paused to bend to kiss her softly. “Now that you have so much free time, little one, I wonder how much mischief you’ll get into.” He adored the sound of her giggle, the delightful tone bringing him peace and knowledge that change was a good thing.
“I’ll try to be good, Papa,” she said, with a smile. When she lifted her eyes to his, they were filled with contentment. “Besides, I know what happens when my Papa thinks I’m in need of lessons not found in a classroom … well, except maybe Miss Summers.”
Lucas roared with laughter as her humor amazed him once again. “As I said, Kitten, education is forever. I’m sure you’ll find your Papa has many, many lessons to teach his precious girl.” Lucy snuggled into him, her hand on his heart.
“I love your lessons, Papa,” she whispered. He bent to kiss her, and he was soon again attempting to teach her that he would never stop loving his precious Kitten.
The household settled into the new routine, the atmosphere of the entire house and staff lighter, as the tension they had all attempted to ignore lifted from their daily lives. Molly and Lucy spent their mornings together, Molly delighted that she had been asked to teach Lucy how to sew a dress for Emmie’s doll. Ettie, Frannie, and Lucy all spent time in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Grover do the last of the canning, all enjoying the work. The evenings were spent as a family in the library. Bea and Frank were often joined by Lucas in finalizing the plans for the construction of their house. Frannie worked on her tapestry while Ettie and Lucy played a game. Though the week passed peacefully, by the time Saturday dawned, Lucy was practically bouncing in her excitement about the outing.
After her nap, Lucy felt restless, anxious for the time to arrive when she and Lucas would leave for their visit.
“I wish I could go,” Ettie said, forlornly. “I’d like to meet Emmie.”
“Not this time, Ettie,” Lucas said. “It wouldn’t be polite to arrive with an unexpected guest.” Hearing her exaggerated sigh, he smiled. “The invitation will need to be returned. You shall meet Emmie then.” Mrs. Grover solved the girls’ restlessness by suggesting they make a cake for Emmie’s birthday and perhaps a pie for their own dessert. Lucas chuckled and warned Edith that he suspected that Lucy had never actually baked before.
“Then it’s about time she learned,” the cook said. “Every lass needs to know the basics.”
The girls had a wonderful time under Mrs. Grover’s guidance. After the chocolate cake had been iced, Lucy carefully arranged fresh raspberries around the edge, while Ettie helped roll out the dough for the piecrusts. As the cook begin filling her pie shells with mounds of fresh fruit, the two girls carefully cut ribbons of dough. By the time they had carefully woven the strips of dough into lattice tops for the pie, they were both covered in flour. Once the pies were in the oven, Edith thanked them for their help, giving them each a hug as well as a cookie. They nibbled their cookies as they wandered to the library. Lucy realized that this was the first time she had not been attended to by Molly or her Papa. She also remarked to herself that the atmosphere of the entire house seemed lighter.
“Did you have fun?” Lucas asked, when the girls returned from the kitchen.
“Yes, Papa, I got to decorate Emmie’s cake, and Ettie and I got to weave the pie top.”
“I believe you mean the lattice, sweetheart,” Lucas said, and she giggled and nodded. “Perhaps there will be a slice or two saved for us to sample. For now, run upstairs and find Nanny Molly. She’s had a bath prepared, and little one, it is obvious you need one before we visit the Northbridge’s.” He reached up and trailed his fingertip down her cheek, showing her the white flour that had streaked her face. Lucy laughed and then twirled and ran upstairs to get ready. Though it had only been two weeks, she was anxious to tell Emmie everything about her life at Hunter’s Ridge.
As Molly was bathing her, Lucy excitedly told her about the baking. Molly teased that she hoped they were edible, and Lucy giggled and said she hoped they were as well. After drying and brushing her hair until it fell in soft, golden waves, Molly dressed her in a dark green dress over which the usual starched pinafore was tied. She had on a pair of drawers with several rows of ruffles across the seat, ones that Lucas seemed to especially appreciate his little one's wearing. A green ribbon, tied into a large bow, held her hair at the nape of her neck, the curls flowing down her back.
“You look beautiful,” Molly said, as she helped Lucy into her shoes. “I want you to make me proud tonight and not give me reason to have to scold you.” Molly made certain that Lucy's dress was clean and her own hair neatly brushed and arranged in a chignon at the back of her head.
“I’ll be good, Nanny,” Lucy promised. “Are you upset that you can’t go to town with Mr. Grover tonight?”
Molly smiled and shook her head, her soft smile showing her pleasure as she remembered her previous outing with Joseph. “No, Lucy. Jo … Mr. Grover and I can spend some time together tomorrow after church. I’m happy to be able to speak to Nanny Bertha again. Now, remember my words and be my good girl.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Lucy said, and practically skipped alongside Molly as they went down the stairs, Molly carrying a basket with the orange kitten that Lucy had finally decided was the perfect choice for Emmie. Lucy carried a small package containing the dress that Molly had helped her to sew for Ettie’s doll, as well as a small knitted cape that Molly had added to the doll’s wardrobe. Edith handed Lucas the box with the cake, wishing them a pleasant evening.
The trip was uneventful. Lucas had barely lifted Lucy from the carriage before she was running towards the townhouse. Emmie, having been waiting and watching from the front window, threw open the door. The two met halfway, clasping each other as they danced in a circle, both speaking at the same time.
Stefan followed at a more sedate pace, shaking Lucas’ hand. “Thank you for coming,” he said, and then chuckled, “I’m afraid if I made Emmie wait any longer, her poor little bottom would be purple.”
“Papa!” Emmie said, her face flushing at his reference to her backside.
“Don’t Papa me, Emmaline Northbridge. You know very well that you’ve been quite the handful over the past few days.” He adored the color in her cheeks and the twinkle in her eye. He took the basket from Lucas and with a swat against his wife’s seat, hurried her back into the house. He led them into the parlor, smiling as the girls continued their excited chatter.
“Happy birthday, Emmie!” Lucy laughed, and pressed her gift into her friend’s hand. Emmie thanked her, remembering her manners before she ripped the paper from the box. When she opened it and removed the gifts, she hugged Lucy, saying that Carolina would love the new dress. She gave Molly a hug as well, thanking her for the pretty cape.
Stefan presented the basket with a flourish. Everyone watched as Emmie looked inside, her face beaming as her mouth dropped open.
“Oh, Papa, you remembered!” she squealed, picking up the chubby orange kitten and nuzzling its neck. “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed, lifting onto her toes to kiss her husband’s cheek. “I love her … him ...?”
“It’s a male,” Lucas said, with a grin. “Your Papa a
sked Lucy to pick him out for you. Happy birthday, Emmie.” She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek.
Stefan gave the box containing the cake to a servant, after Emmie had exclaimed about how pretty it looked. He smiled when Lucy warned that it might not taste quite as pretty as it looked, as it was the first one she’d helped bake. “I’m sure it will be delicious,” Stefan assured her. “Emmie, why don’t you go show Lucy your room,” he said. Emmie giggled, forgetting the spankings she had earned when she had tried his patience with her constant whining that time wasn’t going by quickly enough. As the girls clattered up the stairs, Bertha and Molly gave each other a hug.
“I suggest we let the girls play a bit before dinner,” Stefan said with a grin. “God knows if we don’t, they’ll be unable to behave during dinner.” Lucas laughed, instantly remembering how comfortable he and Lucy had been with the Northbridges as their travel companions. As Stefan poured a drink for his friend, the two nannies were excused until dinner. The women were quickly seated in the small front parlor, both anxious to catch up on how Molly and Lucy were faring at Hunter’s Ridge.
“Do you like it?” Emmie asked, as she and Lucy settled on the floor of her own nursery, the kitten between them. Lucy looked around the lovely room that closely mirrored her own, except for a large padded horse in one corner. Deciding it was most likely the equivalent of her own spanking bench, she nodded. “No silly,” Emmie giggled, “not my nursery, Hunter’s Ridge. Are your sisters nice?”
“Oh, yes,” Lucy said, truthfully. “There are three: Bea, Frannie, and Ettie. Ettie reminds me of you. She is always giggling and bouncing around.”
Emmie smiled, glad to hear that Lucy’s fears about her new family had been unfounded. “Tell me about your new home,” Emmie said, and Lucy did as she and her friend watched the kitten explore the nursery while they brushed their dolls’ hair. Lucy had brought Nellie with her, knowing that Emmie would want to share their play with her own doll, Carolina.
“It sounds wonderful,” Emmie said, dressing her doll in her new dress. “I mean, everything except for the governess. She sounds just dreadful.” Lucy looked towards the door, as if worrying that her words might find their way out of the nursery.
“She hated me,” Lucy whispered. “She … she was in love with Lu … my Papa. I’m happy she is gone, but it is sad that she has no one of her own.”
Emmie nodded in understanding. “I suppose she thought that your Papa would marry her. I mean, it is quite common for men with families to seek marriage to a woman in their employ. She’s not really considered a servant, just a woman that has no family of her own to care for her,” Emmie said, sitting quietly and considering the situation. “I bet she hoped that Lucas would return home without having found a wife. It is obvious that you and your Papa are meant for each other. Not every woman can submit to this lifestyle and be both wife and special little one to their husband. It is only proper that your Papa sent her away. Perhaps she’ll find her own suitor.” Though both women lived their lives as special little ones to their Papas, they were also grown women who understood the emotional needs of adults.
No longer playing, Emmie turned to her friend. “I … I wanted to apologize for that last day,” she began. “I know it was frightening for you.”
“No,” Lucy said, reaching out to take Emmie’s hand. You don’t have to apologize or even explain, Emmie. I … I admit, I was a bit shocked, but I promise, I understand now.” Seeing the relief in her friend’s eyes, she smiled. “I learn a bit more every day. I might not like every lesson, especially when I’ve been very naughty, and Papa has to … to really punish me.” She paused for a moment but knew that she was in a safe place, with a safe friend. “Emmie—I … I get … get wet, even when I’m not supposed to. Is … is that normal?”
Emmie’s quick blush matched Lucy’s own. She giggled and nodded. “Yes, Lucy, it’s perfectly normal. It used to really shame me, especially when Papa was strapping me or … or when I was making my penance, but Papa told me that it wasn’t my fault. It makes him pleased that I respond to his every touch. He … he won’t let me … let me have pleasure when I’ve been really naughty and he is having to birch or cane me, but he always makes sure I am allowed lots and lots of pleasure after my punishment time is over.” She smiled and continued, “I’m so happy we are friends, and we can talk about such things, even if they are embarrassing.”
Lucy smiled and felt relief at knowing she could always discuss such intimate things with another child-bride. She impulsively reached out and hugged Emmie. “Thank you. I would not change a minute of my life. I have never been happier and am so glad that we don’t need to apologize to each other about how we live our lives.”
“I’m so glad we are friends,” Emmie said. “I love you, Lucy.”
“I love you too,” Lucy said with a smile. With that said, the girls were soon giggling—all cares set aside—each knowing they had a friend who would always understand. They played contentedly until they heard their names being called for dinner.
Dinner was fun. When Molly put the bib around her neck, Lucy thanked Nanny Bertha for showing Molly how to embroider the small kittens and other animals that adorned the bibs Lucy wore. They all reminisced over the train trip and Emmie asked about Cleo.
“She loves her new home,” Lucy said. “Instead of just me and Papa, she gets petted by everyone! She loved playing with your kitten. I hope she doesn’t get lonely now.”
“Perhaps she can come visit with you next time,” Emmie suggested. “That way, she can visit with Socks.” When she saw her Papa’s questioning glance, she giggled, “His full name is Socrates but since he has little white feet, I’m going to call him Socks.” Stefan laughed, as did Lucas, after giving his wife a look, his eyebrow raised. Lucy broke into giggles, her face flushed. Lucas smiled, understanding that every little child-bride truly did need a friend to confide in and thankful that his Kitten had Emmie as her confidante. After the cake had been eaten and compliments given to Lucy, the men once more retired to the back parlor for cigars and brandy, and the girls were allowed to play again.
Bertha was proud to hear of Molly’s growing confidence in her abilities. “I am glad to learn you feel more comfortable in your duties,” Bertha said, as the two women took out their knitting.
“Yes, Lord Huntington is a wonderful employer,” Molly said, sincerely. “He always has time to answer my concerns and even was worried that my sensibilities might be unable to handle the more intimate duties he requests.”
“Ah, yes,” Bertha agreed with a smile. “The poor men think females are innocent until they wed. I doubt they give a thought to how we've lived or what we’ve seen before we became nannies. It is a nice thought, but a needless concern unless Lord Huntington wishes no assistance in changing a wet nappy, shaving a sweet little quim or washing out a small bottom.”
“True, but well, I must say I was a bit shocked when Lord Huntington had me help obtain measurements that he used to have a … a harness made for Lucy. It … it was to make sure that the, um, dummy he placed into Lucy’s little bottom stayed in place. I never imagined such a thing even existed,” Molly admitted, not knowing if she would be brave enough to voice her concern.
She needn’t have worried. Bertha reached out and patted her hand. “Also, quite common,” she assured the younger nanny. “Since you’ve told me that he is personal friends with Eleanor Summers, I am quite positive he was simply following her suggestion. Emmie has her own, though her Papa usually makes her go without a harness. He believes it helps her concentrate on not only retaining the plug but why her little bottom has been plugged.” Bertha paused and then shook her head. “Men have been using females' back passages since the beginning of time. Why, I know several who see it as a way to avoid unwanted children. Their little darlings can’t produce an heir when their bums are the receptacles for their husband’s seed.” Molly realized her mouth had dropped open so that she appeared to be gaping like a fish on dry land. Bertha la
ughed and patted her hand again. “Don’t look so shocked, Molly girl. Lord Huntington calls them bottom binkies, Lord Northbridge calls them naughty girl plugs. I suppose there are as many names for the plugs as there are men. I do know they are sold under the guise of ‘rectal dilators’ for use when constipation is an issue. Since both our girls receive regular enemas, piles will never be a problem. Their true purpose is what your Lord suggested. They open a small one’s bottom-hole to accept a hard cock. Though our girls might complain, I promise, they should be grateful for the time taken to prepare them. I’ve heard horrid stories of poor little bottoms being penetrated without thought as to the possible damage that might be inflicted; it’s a blessing their Papas love them enough to be concerned for such things.”
Molly realized she agreed, and any residual concern she had evaporated. After all, Lucy had endured the plugs quite well and had not seemed to have any problems—well, other than being highly embarrassed with each insertion. Embarrassment never harmed a soul. The women turned to other topics, and Bertha was pleased to hear that Molly was interested in her employer’s valet.
“Seems like a good match if you ask me,” Bertha said with a smile. “Your Joseph knows about the lifestyle in the house, and so there is no need to hide the fact that you are more knowledgeable than most. However, you should be prepared for him to never hesitate in introducing you to discipline and other such intimacies in case I hear wedding bells soon.” Molly blushed hotly and assured her friend that nothing of the sort had been discussed. Bertha and she giggled exactly like the two women upstairs, two friends enjoying time together, able to discuss whatever they needed, knowing it would go no further.
Too soon, the girls looked up to see their nannies in the doorway. “Come along, little ones,” Bertha said. “I’m sure your Papas would enjoy spending time with you before you leave. Though both wanted to protest, they also realized that it was much later than they normally were allowed to stay up. Bertha and Molly enjoyed a final cup of tea in the kitchen while the two child-brides sat on their Papas’ laps.