by Alta Hensley
"You may pull up your bloomers and put your dress down," Nanny Agnes said.
She did not waste a second hitching up her cotton undergarments before letting the pale blue gown fall just past her knees. The white stockings gave a flash of her legs, though the gentlemen who had been lined up outside the hall had vanished nearly an hour ago, when she had been escorted to the playroom after an intense discussion with the headmaster.
"May I speak with my papa?" Eliza found it difficult to leave the window. She waved vigorously, hoping he would pay her attention. It seemed he did not notice her at all. "Please, Nanny Agnes?" She clenched her hands together, begging for a moment of his time. "Pretty please?" She would drop onto her knees if she thought it would make any bit of difference.
Charley stood up, exchanging a few more words with the headmaster before heading around to the side of the building, out of sight. Was he coming inside, or leaving? Eliza could not see from the window and was not permitted to leave the playroom. She bounced anxiously on her feet, waiting to see in which direction the headmaster went. It did not seem they were walking together. Sighing, she felt defeated. It had been four days since she had last spoken to her papa. At least he had visited, that had to be a good sign. Unless his presence was for his sister? No. After what they had shared together, Eliza believed that he cared for her and only her.
"Come, little Eliza. It is time for your afternoon nap." Agnes took her hand and led her from the playroom down the hall, toward the nursery.
Eliza did not wish to lie down, but she had no say in the matter. Fussing would not help either. She rushed toward the bed, climbing beneath the covers. Shutting her eyes, her head on the pillow, she pretended to be tired, listening for the click of the door as her nanny left.
"I am pleased about how well you have gone down for a nap this afternoon," Nanny Agnes said, pulling the blankets up around the young woman. She shut the curtains to the nursery and walked out of the room. The door clicked closed behind her.
Eliza counted silently in her head. One. Two. Three. She waited until she had reached thirty before slipping out of bed. Her nanny should have been far down the hall by now. Without her shoes on, Eliza's feet pattered silently across the cold marble floor. Pushing open the curtains, she winced, her eyes adjusting to the bright sun. There was no sign of her papa outside. Had he left?
She tried the window, flipping the lock and easing the pane upward, doing her best to keep the heavy glass from squeaking as she lifted it.
"Charley?" she called down to the garden, hoping that even though she could not see him, he had not left yet. Eliza wanted to see him, speak to him, and find out what the blazes was going on.
Silence filled the nursery as she whispered quite loudly again, trying to catch his attention if he was outside without startling her nanny from down the hall. "Charley?" She did not dare shout out 'papa' with the window open, worried about who else might hear. There was already enough trouble brewing it seemed with the recent article.
The rustle of leaves filled the air. Eliza rested her arms on the windowsill, the breeze caressing her cheek while she stared out at the blossoming garden, the flowers in full bloom. The sight was lovely. She wished she was given permission to go there regularly, not just see the beauty from the confines of her nursery room.
"Eliza?" Papa's voice mixed in with the wind. The soft thud of footsteps against the grass reached her ears as she took in every note with the beat of her heart.
Her pulse raced at the sound of her name as it spilled from his lips. "You came!" She could no longer contain her excitement. "Come upstairs." She did not wish to continue the conversation with him outside and quite far away.
"It seems the headmaster is not pleased to see me. I have to make amends, little Eliza, if I want to visit you and I do, very much so."
She smiled, pleased with his honesty. She missed him tremendously and now that he had returned, she did not want the distance to still strike them, keeping them apart. "Can you fix the mess tomorrow? I would like you to come keep me company now that you are here."
Charley sighed. "As much as I would like that, and I would a lot," he confessed, sighing softly, "I must not come up. You do not deserve to get further caught up in this disaster that is keeping us apart. I will rectify the situation, my little Eliza. I promise you that."
She wanted to believe he was capable of undoing the damage, but was it even possible? Perhaps she could tell Nanny Agnes and the headmaster that the note they had found was hers. That the article was completely unrelated, and a mere chance of circumstance that pointed to Charley. Of course the fact he confessed to having written the paper, as she assumed, would explain the necessary retraction.
"I miss you terribly. I was so worried you would not return… like Preston," she confessed.
"Never, my love. My career has got in the way, and for that I am so very sorry. I promise you that I will make it up to you."
"When will you return?" She hated to think it might be another four days, if not longer. The thought of her papa kept her warm, curled up under the covers, imagining his strong embrace cuddling her to him. Eliza desired to run her hand over his chest, to know if he was in fact lying. She wished a tree had been closer, so that she might climb down and steal a kiss, if not a caress, to remind her that he was worth waiting for.
"As soon as I am able, I will return. My supervisor will not be pleased. He has been asking me for the name of my source and demanding to know at once which school I was referring to. He too has a daughter enrolled at a finishing school, but not at Ashby."
Eliza did not know how to help her papa. She wanted to see him more than just a glance at a distance, to feel his strong protective grasp around her body.
"Little Eliza!" Nanny Agnes stormed into the nursery unannounced.
The young woman gasped as she spun around on her heels, caught. As she pulled the curtains shut, the wind blew a warm breeze, revealing that window was in fact open. She could not pull one over on her nanny, even if she wanted to. "I was just opening the window. It was getting a bit stuffy inside."
The gray-haired woman stormed up to the window, slamming the glass down with brute force.
Had Charley been smart enough to disappear at the sound of her nanny's voice? Did he even know what the blazes was going on upstairs in the nursery?
Eliza cautiously turned and backed up toward the bed. Perhaps if she lay down, her nanny would let her go to sleep without a second spanking for the day. She reached for the tiger, clutching it into her arms as if the beast could protect her, while she climbed back onto the bed.
"Not so fast, young lady." Her nanny did not sound the slightest bit pleased. Why would she, considering the day that Eliza had given her?
Nanny Agnes opened the top dresser drawer, removing a wooden paddle. "Come here, little Eliza."
When she did not move quickly enough, Nanny Agnes strode across the room, grabbed her charge by the waist, and hoisted her across her lap as she sat down on the edge of the bed. The woman in one swift movement pulled down Eliza's cotton bloomers and whipped the paddle across the young woman's tender bottom.
Crack!
The pain she had felt earlier from being spanked became far worse with the wooden implement scalding her skin.
With a slight flick of her wrist, Agnes landed a second and then a third blow to little Eliza's splotched skin.
"Please, no more! I will be good. I am ready to take a nap." Eliza would say or do almost anything to escape her punishment. She did not like the position, being bent over her nanny's knee, bare bottomed, and no longer in control.
Eliza squirmed, trying to break free of the woman's tight grip but she could not escape. "Please," Eliza whined, whimpering and pleading to be set free, like a prisoner on the boats for Australia.
"You will remember your place, little Eliza. Even if your papa is not paying you a visit, I am your nanny and remain in charge. Just because you spent a day with your papa does not mean you no longer
have to respect my orders. I have been very lenient with you, but we are done."
Her nanny smacked her bum repeatedly, the throbbing ache from her posterior making all other thoughts and pain disappear. Had that been her intention all along?
The paddle came down against her plush cheeks and then her sit-spots, making it so she would not desire to sit for several hours—if not a day or longer. Nanny Agnes continued unleashing her discipline on the young woman, landing each swat firmly against her bottom, reddening the once pale skin.
Eliza had learned that getting spanked was not such a terrible punishment, especially when it involved Charley Lockwood taking her over his knee. She was less satisfied to feel her nanny perform the same task. When papa spanked her, he paid avid attention to all her body, from her once creamy bottom to her cunny that dripped for him to touch her.
Smack!
The young woman's legs thrashed as the paddle came down against her bare skin. Her nanny continued to thwack the paddle roughly across her reddened cheeks, neither remaining without a speck of color. "I am sorry!" Eliza's hips bucked with each swat to her bottom. She shifted, trying to break free but her nanny's hold remained strong around her hips. "I will take a nap." Why did Nanny Agnes find it necessary to discipline her for avoiding naptime? She had been speaking to her papa, how was any of this fair? At least when her papa disciplined her, the level of enjoyment had increased tremendously. Eliza did not have those same feelings when Nanny Agnes walloped her bum.
"You are right. You will lie down for a nap and I expect you to sleep." Agnes righted the young woman, setting her back down so that her feet landed on the marble floor, and lifted her bloomers back up around her waist. "Climb into bed. I will stay here and make sure you do not leave this mattress again."
Eliza knew by now that her papa had likely gone. It wasn't as though she would have the opportunity to see him again today. If she had, he would have come up to see her. Grumbling under her breath, she shuffled under the covers and pulled the blankets up to her chin. In her arm, she gripped the stuffed tiger her papa had brought for her, feeling the soft material graze her cheek.
She shut her eyes. She could hear her nanny's heavy footsteps as she prepared to sit on the rocker, the wood squeaking as she moved with the seat. Eliza had no choice but to try and nap, with her nanny keeping a watchful eye over her. Slipping out of bed wasn't an option.
Chapter XX
Charley headed straight into work after seeing Eliza. He hated to think that she was being disciplined for speaking to him. There was not much he could do to alleviate her discomfort. Approaching his boss's office, he knocked forcefully on James Kinsley's door, waiting for him to tell him to enter.
"Come in," James called out.
Charley opened the door and entered the small space, closing the door for privacy.
"Look who it is, our budding journalist," James said, grinning as he gestured for him to sit. "Please, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. What can I do for you? Are you working on a second article about the finishing school? Perhaps this time you will drop in a name. I am getting letters from as far away as Manchester. Our readership has never grown so exponentially overnight before."
Exhaling a heavy sigh, Charley sat down and clasped his hands together as he leaned forward on the oak desk of his supervisor. "The article was a disaster."
James laughed, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in his chair. "If by disaster, you mean that we sold out every paper and have people inquiring when we will run a follow-up story, then by all means, call it whatever the blazes you like." He did not seem to sense the urgency in Charley's tone.
Charley could not confess his desires for little Eliza and how the article had been greatly directed at her enrollment. "At the finishing school my sister attends, there were men breaking down the door. Her safety is in question because of my own foolishness in writing such a risqué piece."
"I told you it would have been beneficial to include the name of the institute," James said. He opened his desk drawer and began pulling out stacks of letters that had been torn open but the contents placed back inside their envelopes. "These are just the letters that arrived yesterday. I can only imagine there will be plenty more in the coming days."
Charley couldn't do what James suggested. Even if he wanted to, he had signed his sister into Ashby. The chance it might ruin her reputation was not worth it to him. "I would like to write a follow-up piece."
James shut the drawer and leaned forward, his arms on his desk. "Tell me you intend to address at which school this disreputable behavior was witnessed. My own daughter attends Prescott, and I cannot decide whether allowing her to finish her attendance or pulling her out is the better option at this point."
Charley exhaled a nervous breath. He had already assured Mr. Kinsley that Prescott was not under scrutiny and that he had nothing to worry himself about. "There is no question about whether Prescott is reputable." He had not so much as looked into sending his younger sister to that finishing school because it was further from his home than Ashby. He wanted to visit Leona, even while she lived among the young ladies, much like a boarding school. "My desire for a second article would be in order to address what was stated," Charley said. He did not wish to elaborate on the severity of the situation at Ashby. Were all the finishing schools under such threats?
"Was it not true?" James asked.
It did not matter what was or was not fact. Some secrets were meant to be kept silent, such as the littles' school. He realized that now, after the mistake he had made in divulging a desire that was not for everyone to know about. Charley was not one to lie, and though the thought had crossed his mind, the easiest way to undo the damage was to recant the story in its entirety. But he was not willing to lose his job for the truth, either. "I am afraid that I will cause a scandal that cannot be contained if I name the institute. What these men do is consensual for all parties involved." At least it had been in regards to his little Eliza. Charley assumed that was the case for all the littles at Ashby.
James stroked his stubbly jaw. The spectacles hinged at his nose as he stared at Mr. Lockwood. "You will follow up with the article stating that the school is located far outside of London. I do not care if you put it in an entirely different country, but you will not retract the story and say it is false. We are selling too many papers and have significantly grown our readership over the past few days. I do not intend to lose the momentum we have gained."
"Yes, of course." Charley could work with that. He was not pleased that he would be telling a lie, citing a place for a school that did not exist. Understanding what was right and doing so were not necessarily the same thing. He regretted his actions, the fact that he could not take back the story and call it a work of fiction. Worse, he did not wish to cause the same irreconcilable damage to another city. If he did choose another location, perhaps the fictitious name of a school would be his best choice, for anyone desiring to look further into the story would only do so for their own benefit. A father concerned about the finishing school his daughter was currently enrolled in would not think twice about the name of the institute, so long as it was not where she had been sent.
Standing up, Charley headed out of the office and to his desk, writing diligently to get the follow-up story published in tomorrow's newspaper. Until word had spread that no school in London was tarnished, he did not think Headmaster Philip would let him see his little Eliza.
Finishing his article, he turned in his draft and sat back down at his desk. Although he wanted to see Eliza, he could not visit her until the matter was cleared up. The headmaster had made that perfectly clear when he tried to see his little one.
Charley contemplated how best to get in touch with her. Writing her a note seemed the most direct approach without risking her getting another spanking. He had not been ignorant of the fact that her nanny had caught her speaking to him through the window. Why Nanny Agnes had had such a fit was beyond his grasp. Had littl
e Eliza sneaked out and caused her to worry that something might have happened to her charge?
He reached for a blank sheet of paper, jotting down an apology. Charley felt he owed her that much.
My Eliza,
I am sorry that I have been unable to pay you a visit any sooner than when we last met. Diligently I work to fix the damage that I have created and to appease your headmaster so that I might return promptly. Promise me you are good and not causing too much of a quarrel with those who care about you. Stay strong and safe.
Love,
Charley
Although he wanted to address her as 'little', he was worried that the letter might fall into the wrong hands. What if the courier decided to read the note? It was best to keep the intimacy to a minimum, and the letter brief, so that it might look like a note from a betrothed and not from a papa who desired the submission of his little Eliza.
He sealed the envelope with wax and requested that a courier with the newspaper travel to Ashby, with strict instructions to be sure the letter was given directly to her. It was an uncommon request, but he paid the gentleman in cash as he handed over the parchment. What else could he do to rectify the situation?
Charley knew better than to assume the courier would actually be allowed to hand the letter to a little, but his presence would likely notify the headmaster, who in turn would open the sealed note. It would then be up to Mr. Philip Hartley to decide whether his little Eliza received his correspondence. At the very least he would know that Charley was trying to undo the mess he had created, with the intention of returning swiftly to visit his little one.
He tried not to let her fill his thoughts, but she was constantly on his mind. Over the past few days he had worried less about his sister, Leona, and more about his little one. In many ways it was as if he had not changed at all, except the feelings that stirred in his heart and his cock were different. He had always cared for his younger sister after their parents' death. He had continued the dominant role, caring for little Eliza, feeling content with the situation, up until he had made a mockery of everything with his article. Charley would do whatever it took to rectify the situation. He needed his sister to find herself a husband, and his Eliza to marry him. The thought had not left his mind in days.