Little Secrets (12 page)

Charley wanted to see his little Eliza. Having left work early, he took the train and then walked the remainder of the way to Ashby. It was not particularly far on foot and the weather, although warm, offered a heavy breeze that forced him to clutch his hat to keep it from blowing off.

On his approach, he saw the gates were open and several men stood at the front entrance, knocking forcefully upon the front door.

He had not met many of the papas, but from the looks of the four men, he doubted that they were all there suddenly to see their little ones.

"What is going on?" Charley asked, trying not to rouse suspicion.

"You didn't see this article?" a taller gentleman with bushy eyebrows asked. He towered above Charley, shoving the paper in his face.

Charley unfolded the crumpled heap, seeing his article on the front page. "Oh, that." There was not much else to say; that he had written the story and it did pertain to this school, but not to the finishing school?

"My daughter is at the finishing school!" The gentleman pounded on the door. "I demand to see whether she is dressed and behaving with such immoral attitudes as this article presents."

What could he say to alleviate the situation? "Perhaps the school that is in question is not Ashby?" Charley tried to think on his feet. He could not tell these men he had written the article. He had no desire to destroy Ashby or his little Eliza's happiness, but quite possibly he had crossed a line; one he was not sure he could come back from.

"How will we know without a proper inspection?" the gentleman asked. "I demand to see every room, to know my daughter is not being violated!" He pounded on the door again, receiving no response.

Charley slowly backed away from the men who were boisterous and livid, not that he blamed them. Though he had been careful not to name Ashby, he had certainly not left out the specifics of
a fine establishment just a short train ride from London, with wrought iron gates to protect the littles, and a garden view from the nursery rooms
.

He needed to speak to Eliza. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the other gentlemen did not seem to pay him any heed as he slipped around to the opposite side of the building with the beautiful gardens and bench where he had first met his little one. There was only one way to get her attention. Was she even in her nursery?

Charley found a stone on the ground and tossed it up at the second story window. He was almost certain he had hit the right one, trying to remember which room was hers. It took four separate stones before he hit the glass.

The curtains were pulled back and he watched as the window was opened, squinting up at the chateau.

Nanny Agnes opened the window and peered out. "Eliza does not want to see you. I suggest you go home."

Charley shook his head. No. He would not listen to her nanny. He needed to hear the words from his little one's mouth. "Then let her tell me to leave."

"She cannot, seeing as how she is in the corner facing a time out," Nanny Agnes said. "I suggest you retract your story if you wish to visit her again. Headmaster Philip does not have the resources or the time to ward off all the unwanted advances of predators and parents demanding answers."

Charley ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. His boss had been pleased with the story, offering him both a promotion and a raise. If he recanted the article, he could possibly lose everything, but if he did nothing, he would lose his little Eliza.

"Please, Nanny Agnes." He was not one to beg, but he would not allow Eliza to slip away from him. He had strong feelings for her, the thought of wedding her soon had even crossed his mind. Would Headmaster Philip still approve of the marriage? He could not break down the door and demand to speak with them, even if he wanted to.

"I will have a word with the headmaster. I suggest you sit tight." She slammed the window shut and Charley stalked over toward the bench, taking a seat. His shoulders slumped forward, his head bent down as he tried to consider what he would say to rectify the sticky situation he had caused. It seemed clear that Mr. Philip Harley blamed Charley for the article and the mess he had to deal with as a result. Charley could not even so much as pretend he had not written the story. He may be unhappy with the outcome, but he would not lie to the headmaster. Denying he wrote it would be like rejecting a part of who he was.

Quietly he waited, and though Charley glanced up every so often at the window, he did not see any signs of movement or the curtain swaying. How would Headmaster Philip speak with him outside, if the horde of people would not leave the front entrance?

"Mr. Lockwood," Philip said, stepping around the building, presumably exiting from a back entrance that Charley was not privy to. "I must admit that I am surprised to see you return, considering the stunt you pulled with the paper."

The younger man nodded, clasping his hands together. "You cannot keep me from little Eliza." Perhaps an apology would have been more beneficial, but Charley did not wish to stand down. He paid not only for Eliza's tuition but his sister's, as well. The stress of what he'd done would blow over soon enough. It was not as though he had named Ashby in the article. Charley felt confident that many other finishing schools were facing the same pressure after what he'd written.

"I could," Philip said, coming to stand above Charley, "but I am sure that if I did, you would cause me even more trouble. To be quite honest, I am not sure which is worse: having you visit little Eliza, or expelling her from Ashby."

"She has not done anything wrong!" Charley would not allow the headmaster to punish his little one for the story he had written. His expression grew grim. If Headmaster Philip removed her from the school, then he would have no choice but to go public with the name of the chateau, and Charley would be forced to withdraw Leona, as well. His boss, James, had insisted on having him publish the institute's name to show credibility, but there was too much risk involved. He had done what he could to protect his little one and his sister, though it seemed to have done little good. "You must understand that I am a journalist. It is my duty to tell—"

"No!" Philip snapped. "You are also a papa, and it is your duty to protect. What you did put your little in harm's way."

The headmaster's words were like a punch to the stomach. Charley had known when he wrote the article that it was risky, but he did so regardless in the name of journalism. But Philip was correct, he was a papa first, and he had made a grave mistake.

"Mr. Hartley, I apologize. My intent was never to expose the Ashby Chateau when I wrote that article. I am not excusing my behavior, but I truly had no intention of the school's little secrets being revealed."

"I have been drowning in parents insisting on tours, previous papas demanding reimbursement, predators who insist on gaining access to a littles' school that is supposed to be a secret; I could go on!" It was clear that the headmaster felt a tremendous amount of pressure and frustration over what had occurred. "What do you intend to do to fix this position you have put me in?" Philip asked.

It should have come as no surprise to Charley that the headmaster would demand action be taken. He was not the type of gentleman to allow what he had worked to achieve fall apart on him. "I will fix this," Charley said. Though he did not know how, he knew without a doubt that some secrets were meant to be kept, and he had broken the sacred bond of Ashby.

"You will if you ever want to see Eliza again," Philip said, his tone threatening as he stared down at the younger papa. "I expect the situation to be rectified by Monday, or you can expect to pick up your sister at the train station."

Eliza watched from the window of the playroom, glancing out at her papa. She was supposed to be in time out, her hands lifting the hem of her gown to reveal her splotched bottom from a recent spanking. Her earlier outburst had been the only way for her to deal with the stress of the article. Eliza wished it had been her papa who had bent her over his knee and smacked her bottom. Instead, she had been faced with Nanny Agnes. The woman was beginning to get on her nerves.

She did not quite understand why the headmaster and her papa were standing outside, having a discussion. Was it about her? She was foolish to think she might be the topic of conversation. All the littles at Ashby had been whispering about the parents, who had suddenly insisted upon seeing the school where their daughters were enrolled.

"Nose in the corner, young lady!" Nanny Agnes scolded her charge.

Eliza grumbled under her breath, preferring to watch her papa but not having the opportunity. She could not handle another firm smack to her sore bottom. "But Nanny Agnes, my papa is outside!" Did the woman not understand how anxious she was to see him, talk to him and find out what had happened?

The older woman pushed aside the yellow curtains, glancing down at the garden where Charley sat on a bench, staring up as Headmaster Philip spoke. "He most certainly is, but that is not your concern. You are in my care and when I tell you it is time to share, I expect you to listen. Next time you will heed my warning."

The young woman sniffled before the sobs started. It had been a trying day; missing her papa, being forced to share her new stuffed tiger and, of course, her nanny having discovered the scribbled note that her papa had accidentally left behind. If that wasn't bad enough, the newspaper article had made her day spin out of control and it was just barely noon. Eliza had half expected a spanking for knowing that Charley had been the responsible party for the article, though she had not been privy to the release. It was not as though she was given a newspaper to read as a little.

On occasion, the newsprint from a week or two ago would be used to cover the carpet when they painted on their canvases in the playroom. That was how she had kept up with world events for the past six months. Eliza may have been little but a part of her found it difficult to forget every care when her papa was away.

"Are you ready to apologize?" Nanny Agnes asked.

Eliza jumped at the opportunity, hoping that it would bring her closer to visiting with her papa. Nodding, she wiped the salty remnants of her tears away. "I am sorry I would not share like a good little one in the playroom." She had heard enough apologies to know how to please her nanny. Even if she felt it unfair to be forced to share the present her papa had given to her, mouthing off at her nanny did no good either.

"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.