Enrolling Little Etta (5 page)

The questions were tiresome. Philip wanted to take Etta over his knee just to silence her, but he vowed only to use strict discipline when it was necessary. Her inquisitive mind was exactly like that of a child; questioning and curious over everything. He could not fault her for that.

Once they had finished breakfast, Philip had Nanny Mae take Etta to the playroom to meet the other littles.

His stomach gurgled at the thought of Etta and Leda plotting their escape from the chateau together. No. Leda was a good little one. Etta would take some time to accept her role as submissive, and there was no reason to believe otherwise.

He pushed all thoughts aside and stood, walking from the dining room out into the hall. The school was quiet, exceptionally so for an afternoon when classes were in session, though he knew the girls were busy in their classes, learning proper etiquette and behavior. Their afternoon break was often met with rowdiness and unruly young girls who needed a reminder to their bottoms about the proper way to behave.

Perhaps he should have gone to the eastern wing to check on the other girls, but he felt drawn toward the playroom. He wanted to watch Etta and see how she interacted with the other littles.

The wall between the playroom and the hall was made of glass, allowing him the opportunity to see his precious Etta. She seemed to pay no attention to him as he watched her.

Etta sat across from Leda and they appeared to be quietly chatting, each holding a doll and brushing her hair.

Philip had not learned to read lips, and was terrible at even attempting to try and make out what was being said. He stood for several minutes, watching the calm exchange between the two girls. They at least seemed to be getting along well enough.

"Headmaster Philip," Papa Lawrence said, stalking down the hall, his Gracie's hand nestled tight in his own.

"Yes, Lawrence." Philip clasped his hands together in front of him. "What can I do for you?"

Lawrence let go of the young blonde's hand. Though she and Etta were both blonde, Gracie's hair was mixed with highlights of red and gold, probably from her time in the sun. She'd been given special privileges to visit the outside gardens with her papa. Lawrence stared at Gracie and nodded. "Tell Headmaster Philip what you said to me about Leda."

Gracie's eyes widened and she shook her head, vigorously.

"Gracie." Lawrence's tone grew in intensity as he seemed to grow irritated by her behavior. He swatted her bottom. "Tell him what you said to me."

Her bottom lip trembled and her hands shook. "I do not want to."

Philip cleared his throat and motioned for Lawrence to leave the two of them alone. Philip guided Gracie toward his office and sat her down on the upholstered armchair. "Tell me what's going on, child."

"She is going to be mad at me."

"Not as mad as your papa. He's standing outside that door, waiting for you to enlighten me about what's going on."

"It is Leda," Gracie said, her voice hardly above a whisper. "She has been telling me how she does not really submit to her papa, she just lets him believe that so she can get out of here."

Philip did not typically like the girls tattling on one another, but in this instance, it was useful information that he needed to know. "Lawrence," he said, calling Gracie's papa back into the room.

"I would like you to give your little Gracie a special treat for being such a good girl and helping me out. Can you do that?" Philip asked. He knew Lawrence would be proud to have some alone time with his little one.

Lawrence took Gracie's hand and led her out of Philip's office.

Philip rubbed his forehead, frustrated. It seemed as though Francis had not been imagining the scenario that Leda was fooling them. Now it was up to him as headmaster to devise a plan to ensure she'd learn her lesson and keep the other girls in line. The only problem was figuring out what would work. Everything he had done to force her to submit had been beneficial in the moment but had not offered the long-term effects he'd anticipated.

Stepping out from his office, he roamed the halls, finding the dark-haired maid mopping the floor. "Vivian, can I have a word with you?"

Vivian had always assisted Nanny Mae, but she'd never been tasked to instill discipline in any of the littles. She was allowed to dish out a punishment, as all adults at the school were, but she had never felt the need—or perhaps the desire. Philip was not sure which.

He needed her to step up and take a stronger role with the littles.

"Yes, of course." Vivian placed the mop against the wall and followed Philip to his office.

He shut the door behind him. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair that had just a few minutes earlier seated Gracie.

Vivian took a seat, her hands on the armrests. "Have I done something wrong, Mr. Hartley?"

Philip shook his head. "No. I would like to hire a second nanny, and I thought that you might be interested in the position. It is certainly a step up from being a maid at our school."

Her beautiful brown eyes glistened with tears. Was she excited about the promotion, or frightened of what it meant she'd be doing? "I would like that very much," she said.

"Good. I need you to start right away. Our little Leda is not being the precious girl she is pretending to be. Have you heard anything about this?" Philip was curious to know if other staff members were aware of her insubordination but choosing to keep their heads down.

"Leda's always had a difficult time adjusting to the submissive lifestyle," Vivian answered. She may not have been a nanny, but Philip suspected that she witnessed everything at the school.

"I have two sources telling me that she may not really be submitting to her papa as she is leading everyone to believe," Philip said. He was not going to give away his two sources, in case Vivian slipped up. She may have spent time around the girls, but disciplining them was an entirely different course of action. Would she have it in her to follow the rules of the school? It was not for everyone, and he would have to keep a close eye on her to make sure she did as instructed.

Vivian's lips pursed together. "How would you like me to proceed, sir?"

He made the rules of the institution; it was the nannies who instilled them.

"You will keep a watchful eye over Leda. She is your responsibility, Vivian. Can you handle her?"

Philip was not really giving her much of a choice. Leda needed the undivided attention of one nanny, and he had to trust that Vivian was up to the task. If he was not busy keeping an eye on Etta, he would discipline the little himself and remind her who was in charge.

"I'm Leda," the girl with dark brown hair said. Her hair was sectioned into two pigtails, just like Etta's. Leda was dressed in a blue and white gingham dress, with a petticoat sticking out from underneath to make her skirt fuller.

"Etta." She chewed her bottom lip, glancing back at her nanny by the door.

"Do not be scared of Nanny Mae. She is quite the pushover," Leda said. She kept her voice down. "Come here, I shall tell you everything you need to know about her to avoid getting spanked."

Etta's stomach bubbled as she followed the girl toward the dollhouse.

Leda handed her a doll. "Pretend we are playing."

"But we are playing, aren't we?" Etta asked, not understanding what Leda was up to.

"We just have to make it look like we are playing. The grownups do not pay that close attention to us," Leda said. She grabbed a hairbrush for her doll and worked the tangles from her hair. "I have been here for five years, Etta. If anyone knows what it takes to get out, I do."

Etta felt overwhelmed. "Five years?" She'd been under the impression that she would be at the school for a little while, but she did not think her time would last that long. "Why so long? Can they not find you someone to marry?"

"Marry?" Leda laughed and shook her head. "I am betrothed to Francis. He's my papa. Just as you are to marry your own papa someday."

"I am?" Etta asked. She knew her uncle wanted her to marry, and he had enrolled her in the school to better help her chances of finding a good husband. Her nanny had made mention of Philip taking a liking to her and no one else, though he had not come out and said that he was going to marry her. She groaned, feeling confused.

"Do you want to know the secret of getting out of here for good?" Leda asked.

Etta frowned, thoroughly confused. If she was going to marry Philip, then there was no true way of ever getting out. Didn't Leda see that, too, about her Papa Francis?

When Etta did not answer, the young brunette continued talking, while brushing her doll's hair. She focused on her toy, pretending to be enthralled with it. "The men expect us to submit to them in every way possible. Make them believe you do, and you will be set free."

"Free?" Etta did not find the chateau that bad a place. It was odd and strange for her, but she did not exactly want to leave.

"Yes. Once your papa sets you free and allows you to leave the Ashby Chateau, you will be able to escape his home. You do not really think that our papas live here all year round?"

"Don't they?" Etta asked. Her mind felt heavily fogged with all of Leda's thoughts. Why had her papa insisted they become friends? Did he know what Leda was up to? Had he intentionally been trying to give her a message as well; that if she behaved, then she, too, would be free of him and her uncle?

"No, silly," Leda said, shaking her head and laughing. "They visit on weekends and holidays. You are lucky. Your papa works here. You will probably see him every day."

Seeing Philip every day did not sound so terrible. Why was Leda making all of this out to be one horrible scenario? Her papa had been good to her. Though it did feel strange to be dressed in children's clothes and referring to Philip as Papa, Etta could manage it if it meant she were content. Right now, aside from a slightly sore bottom, she was happier than she had been in a long time.

The playroom door opened and Vivian, the young woman who had brought buckets of water for Etta's bath, entered into the room. She spoke briefly with Nanny Mae, forcing Etta's stomach to flip over. Was she in trouble?

"Leda, playtime is over," Vivian said.

Leda glanced up, dropping the doll to the floor. "You are not my nanny."

"Come, child, I do not have all day." Vivian reached for Leda's arm, dragging her from the playroom and out into the hall.

Etta watched with fascinated curiosity. Where was she heading?

Nanny Mae sauntered toward Etta. "Are you having fun?"

What constituted fun to Nanny Mae? Etta was sitting on the floor, brushing her doll's hair. Leda had scared Etta, talking such nonsense about pretending to be pleased. Feeling overwhelmed, Etta's eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled. She did not want to have to pretend. Etta wanted to be happy. She desired a papa who cared for her and looked after her. Didn't Leda's papa do that for her? Etta hung her head as tears dripped onto the carpet.

"Little one, what is it?" Nanny Mae asked, drawing her finger under Etta's chin, lifting her head to meet her gaze. "Tell your nanny what is wrong."

"It is nothing." She sniffled, her eyes darting back down to the ground. Etta did not want to disappoint Papa or Nanny Mae.

"Did little Leda tell you a nasty tale?" Nanny Mae asked.

Etta cast her gaze back up toward her nanny. "She is not very nice." She worried about confessing what she'd heard and getting punished for it. What if they did not believe her? Leda had been there for years, and it was Etta's first day at the chateau.

Nanny Mae knelt down and wrapped her arms around Etta, kissing her softly on the forehead. "Do not cry. All will be fine." She took out a handkerchief and dried Etta's eyes. "Come, child, it is time for you to see the doctor."

"Doctor?" Etta was not sick. Why were they having her visit the doctor?

"Yes." Nanny Mae grabbed Etta's arm and hoisted her from the ground, leading her out into the hallway. "Doctor Colt is waiting for you. Do not be shy." She led Etta through the hall and toward a door that had been closed on the right. Without knocking, she opened it, whisking the little one inside, then closed the door—leaving Etta to stand in the room without her.

Etta swallowed nervously, staring at the examination table and black leather bag on a nearby desk. Both items stood out against the stark white walls of the room. Not a single painting had been hung or a dash of color had found the walls, except for the scuff where the door had banged the wall. The room smelled sterile and the scent burned her nose, forcing her to grimace as her nose wrinkled, trying to rid the scent from her nostrils. Although she had been forced into the room, she made no attempt to step any closer to the men.

Philip stood beside the gray-haired, crooked-nosed doctor, going over some notes. Phillip was a few inches taller than the plump man with the stethoscope. With Philip's broad shoulders and strong posture, Etta found it impossible to turn away. No doubt he was handsome, with his striking features, eyes as blue as the sea, and hair as thick and dark like the night, but there was something she found captivating in the way he spoke quietly, leaning in and tilting his head down slightly to speak to the doctor. It was the intimacy of the gesture, the desire she felt to be on the other end, to be given that type of attention. Were they talking about her? She had not seen a doctor in years, except when one had come to visit in regards to her father. Her own health seemed to be above average. She rarely got ill, but that had probably been because she was not ever in contact with anyone.

"Come inside, have a seat," Papa said. He patted the examination table.

Chewing her bottom lip nervously, Etta climbed atop the table, her legs dangling off. "Why am I here? I am not sick."

"Doctor Colt works with all the students at Ashby," Papa said. "His job is to make sure they are all in good health. He is going to do an examination on you today."

It was not a question. Etta did not seem to have a choice. "What kind of examination?" She remembered her father's doctor listening to his heart and ailing lungs.

"Doctor Colt is going to check your temperature, make sure your heart and lungs are strong, and that everything is working as it should be."

"All right." That did not sound so terrible.

"He is also going to examine you to make sure that your virginity is still intact."

Those words were enough encouragement to get Etta to bolt from the bed. "Mr. Hartley! I can assure you that is not necessary!"

"Papa," he warned, giving her a look that told her not to cross him. "And you, my little love, will do as I say."

"You mean he is going to look at me, down there?" Absolutely not. She had not agreed to anything of the sort. The very idea was humiliating and most scandalous!

"Not just look, child. We need to make sure that everything works as it should," Papa said. "I would hate to have to discipline you for misbehavior right here in front of Dr. Colt, so please be a good girl, and do as the doctor says."

Etta's heart felt as though it would beat outside of her chest. The small room was sweltering, and seeing as how it was situated in the middle of the chateau, there were no windows to let in any outside air. "It is hot in here." Her cheeks reddened and a sheen of sweat coated her skin from head to toe.

"Why don't you lie down?" Doctor Colt suggested, extending the table so Etta could put her feet on it as well.

"All right." With wide eyes, like that of a doe, she lay back, staring up at the ceiling. Her heart did not seem to be slowing but the nauseous pit in her stomach began to ease slightly, as did the intense heat from the room.

"I know you may be nervous, and that is perfectly natural. Just try and relax," Doctor Colt said. "We have all the time in the world, child."

She did not know if he was being condescending or if he was merely not in a rush with any other patients. As far as Etta knew, she was the newest and only student who had arrived within the last twenty-four hours.

Slowly her heart eased up and her nerves, though still unsettled, felt a bit better. Papa stood beside her, his hand gently rubbing her arm, coaxing her to submission. "That is a good girl," he said, soothing her. He leaned down and softly kissed her forehead. "I am proud of you, my little love."

"I am going to start with some simple tests, Etta. Do you think you can put this on for me?" It was an ugly piece of cloth that looked undoubtedly itchy. "I am going to step outside the room. Your papa is going to stay with you and help."

Was that one of the tests? Seeing if Etta could follow directions and change into the horrible gown? She did not answer the doctor.

He stepped out of the room and Papa glanced Etta over. "Are you going to obey, or do I need to call in Nanny Mae for help?"

Etta's eyes widened. She knew if he had to bring in Nanny Mae, then she'd probably get her bottom smacked again.

"I shall get changed."

"Good." Papa helped her down from the table and waited for her to disrobe as he held the gown in his hands.

"I need help with the dress. It is too tight to remove on my own."

"Oh." He nodded and placed the gown onto the table. "Put your arms up."

She did as instructed, and he reached down, lifting the dress up and over her head, helping her remove it.

Etta stood in front of him in her stockings and bloomers, her perky breasts out on display. She covered herself, uncomfortable with his stare, not that he had not seen far more when he and Nanny Mae had shaved her.

Papa took her hands, guiding them down to her sides. "I never want you to feel that you have to hide anything from me, Etta."

His hands grazed her sides and then her hips, gently guiding her bloomers down to her feet.

Etta slipped out of her shoes and then he skimmed down her stockings until she stood in front of him, naked.

Papa turned around, reaching for the examination garment. "Put your hands in here," he said, guiding the gown on. In the back, it remained wide open, giving her an awful breeze on her red bottom. "I see you have had a bit of discipline today."

Embarrassed, Etta averted his stare, her focus on the floor.

Doctor Colt knocked on the door before reentering the examination room. "Climb back up on to the table, child."

She wanted to remind the doctor that she was not a child, but with heavy resignation, she did as she was told. Sitting down was not the hard part. In fact, the beginning of the examination seemed quite easy as the doctor guided his stethoscope beneath the itchy material grazing her skin as he pressed it tightly to her chest.

"Just breathe normally," the doctor said.

She tried to breathe as she usually would, but her heart raced beyond recognition.

Doctor Colt moved the stethoscope from her chest to her back. "Take a deep breath."

Etta did as she was told, breathing in deeply.

"Now let it out."

She followed his instruction again.

"Good." He nodded. "Your heart sounds good. I want to check your temperature. I need you to roll onto your stomach for me, Etta."

Etta locked eyes with her papa.

"Your papa is going to be right here," Doctor Colt reassured her. "Would you like it if he helped with the examination? Would that make it easier?"

Nothing would make it easier, but at least he would not just be watching. "All right," Etta said. She trusted Papa not to hurt her.

Papa Philip helped guide her onto her stomach and then ran his hand gently over her bottom. He separated her cheeks before plunging the thermometer into her rear.

She shifted and struggled against the invasion, pushing it out as quickly as it went in.