by Maggie Ryan
“We can go out this way,” she said, gesturing toward the parlor. She led him toward the large set of French doors in the parlor and they stepped outside. The day was beautiful, the air crisp and not yet stifling with the coming heat of summer. While she couldn’t help but wonder how her sister was faring, she found herself truly enjoying both the walk through the beautifully laid-out gardens, as well as the quiet company of the professor. He listened quite attentively as Louisa quietly pointed out various plantings.
“You truly enjoy them don’t you?” Charles asked as they climbed a gentle slope to reach another area of the garden. She bent forward yet again to bury her nose in the soft petals of a rose.
She smiled, and nodded. “Yes, I do. I’ve always been fascinated that one can bury a seed and watch as a tiny green shoot pushes up. Despite having to struggle to push out of the soil attempting to keep it buried, and the winds and storms that batter it, the plant grows stronger every day until buds fill its branches and blossoms bloom to perfume the air with their fragrance.” Blushing at her response, she shook her head. “I know that sounds rather silly.”
“Not at all,” he assured her as they began to walk down another path across the back of the house. “An appreciation of beauty is never silly. Nature is providing a powerful lesson. Without learning to bend—” His words were cut off as a sharp cry rent the air.
Louisa would have stumbled if not for the quick reaction of her guest who reached out to steady her. “Oh, I-I guess Lucy didn’t do well.”
“It wasn’t for lack of trying I assure you, Lady Wintercrest. She was nothing but attentive in applying herself to her studies. I’m not sure why she failed.”
Louisa understood immediately that this man was quickly seeing her sister as something more than his student. She saw him look toward the house as another cry was borne to them on the air. She found herself comforting him.
“I’m sure you did the best you could, Professor. Lucy just has so much to learn in such a short time. Mathematics has always been difficult for her. Ask her anything about history or English, and I assure you she outshines everyone. Don’t give up on her, I beg you. Please, help her to succeed.” He dropped his eyes to hers, his expression softening.
Patting her hand, he promised, “Never, Lady Wintercrest. I would never abandon Miss Furniss. I promise to better prepare her.” Louisa saw him glance back to the house before he continued, “She may have made some errors on this quiz, but I have every confidence that she will be more than capable of passing the exam on Monday.”
Louisa took heart in his sincere belief that her sister could succeed. “Thank you,” she said softly. Though she knew they should walk away from the house, for some reason they both stood as if in witness or silent support of Lucille. The sharp cracks of what was most obviously a paddle being used against a bare bottom echoed about the garden, chased by Lucy’s cries. Still, neither moved until the sounds gradually faded, and when the air was once again filled with nothing more ominous than the hum of bees and birdsong, they continued their walk. It was several moments later before Charles opened the door and stepped aside to let Louisa precede him.
Edward had just pulled out her chair when Lucy saw her sister and Charles entering the dining room. She instantly dropped her gaze and, as steadily as she could, seated herself with just a slight wince of discomfort. Her bottom ached, but didn’t burn with the fire it had after her birching the evening before. Edward hadn’t wasted time with any lectures. She had failed the quiz, and they both had known what that meant. When he had told her to stand, she had done so, her hands gripping her skirts in order not to reach around to childishly attempt to protect her bottom from its due. Edward had moved from behind his desk and taken her arm. Lucy flushed as she remembered the way he had unceremoniously instructed her to bend over the arm of one of the chairs. Once she had, he lifted her skirts and petticoats up onto her back. She had felt her bloomers being pulled apart to bare her buttocks. She had buried her face in her hands but had been unable to keep herself from peeking between her fingers to watch her guardian walk to the same armoire that had held the awful birches the evening before. She remembered her initial thought of what treasures the cabinet held but had since discovered nothing but torment had come from its depths. Her throat tightened as he opened one door, the movement setting into motion what she realized were implements hanging from hooks on the back of the door. He ran his hand over a few of them before making his choice and lifting a wooden paddle from its hook. Lucy bit back a whimper as he returned, tapping the implement against his thigh.
“You missed six problems, Lucille. I believe two strokes for each mistake should remind you to focus your attention better.”
Hearing that she was to receive a dozen strokes of the paddle made her heart beat faster, but still, it was half the number she had taken from the birch. Lucy braced herself, but the paddle didn’t descend to begin its attack on her already tender bottom.
“I’m waiting, Lucille,” Edward said softly, and she flushed anew as she remembered she was required to ask for correction.
Lucy gritted her teeth, and briefly wondered what would happen if she simply remained silent. After all, if she specifically asked for a spanking then she was essentially to blame for the paddle descending to crack against her flesh.
“Would three strokes per problem help you concentrate on what is expected of you, young lady?” Edward asked, and she knew she’d discovered the answer.
If she remained quiet then her punishment simply increased. Swallowing hard, she shook her head even as she choked out, “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry I failed my quiz. May I please have a spanking?”
When still nothing happened, she turned to look back at him. Meeting her gaze, he slowly shook his head and tapped her bottom briefly with the very tip of the paddle. “This isn’t my hand, Lucille. You aren’t going to be spanked; you are about to be paddled. Correct your request and remember, it is ‘my’ paddling, not ‘a’ paddling.”
Her face burned with the injustice of it all, but she simply desired it to be over. Practically spitting out the words, she tried again. “I’m sorry I failed my quiz, sir. Please, may I have MY paddling now?”
“Is that truly the tone you wish to take, young lady?”
“No… no, it’s not. I’m sorry, sir,” she said, wondering if she’d ever learn that sass would only earn her a hotter bottom.
“Very well. Yes, you may have your paddling.”
With that, Lucy forgot her determination to remain stubborn or defiant. The sound of the wood slapping into her bottom was sharp and clear in the room. The paddle bounced off her bottom after each crack and she raised her head and cried out with every stroke. Perhaps if her bottom had not already been so tender, hadn’t already ached, she might have managed to remain quiet and take the punishment with dignity. As it was, she felt the paddle reignite the pain from her birching as it slapped against the weals that covered her bottom from the top all the way to where the globes curved into the juncture of her thighs. “Ohhh, please,” she cried after the first six had been given.
“Bottom up, Lucille,” he reminded as he changed sides to begin the second half of her count. These swats were just as heavy and hard as the first, and her cries were carried out the open French door that allowed a cooling breeze to waft about the room though it was doing absolutely nothing to ease the burn on Lucy’s burning posterior.
Edward finished her paddling and after being given permission to rise, Lucy tugged the fabric of her bloomers back into place and adjusted her skirts. Her bottom throbbed hotly as she swiped the tears off her face, obediently stammering out her thanks for his discipline. Her heart raced as she watched him replace the paddle on its hook.
“You’re welcome, but know this, Lucille. If you fail the quiz again, you’ll discover what a razor strop feels like as it takes a bite of your naughty bottom.”
Her eyes were glued to his hands that ran down a black length of leather that had her bott
om clenching tightly. Giving her little time to compose herself, he closed the cabinet’s door, took her arm and led her back to the table.
Now she was sitting on her throbbing bottom and was mortified yet again, and trying to fight the desire to simply bury her face in her hands and sob. She saw a fresh sheet of paper slide in front of her and picked up her pencil. She lifted her eyes to the page expecting yet another column of numbers for her to process. Instead, she saw ‘I’m sorry’ printed across the top of the page and understood that her teacher considered it his fault she had failed the quiz. She felt fresh tears welling as she raised her eyes to his. He smiled down at her and then sat and covered the page with the quiz she had just taken. She saw that she had answered most of the questions correctly.
“You did well, Miss Furniss,” he began, as he removed his handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her.
She blushed, remembering the handkerchief pressed into her mouth the day before to keep her silent. She knew he was only offering what comfort he could, so she accepted it and used it to wipe her eyes. She attempted to return it but he shook his head.
“Please, keep it. Perhaps you will consider it a token of my remorse, in that I feel partially responsible for the… for your—”
“Paddling?” she offered, a bit shocked that he seemed to know what had transpired behind the closed doors of Edward’s study. She regretted her rudeness when she saw his face flush with discomfort. She should have remained silent, for she had truly embarrassed the man who was trying to help her.
Charles cleared his throat. “I was going to say failure, but, Miss Furniss, I don’t consider it a failure. You only missed a half dozen problems out of fifty. If this had been the final exam, you do realize you would have passed?”
The words seemed to hang in the air. Passed? She had just gotten a hard paddling for a score that meant she would have passed!
Lucille found herself smiling despite the irony. She saw him return the smile and she lowered her gaze. “Obviously I did not do well enough to pass Lord Wintercrest’s expectations though, did I?”
“I suppose not, but Miss Furniss, you’ve come quite far in the few hours we’ve had. Your only difficulties were in working with negative numbers.”
Lucy sighed, her pencil tapping at the sheet of paper. “I’ll never be able to do this. I simply don’t understand how negatives can become positive. How can you have negative anything? I mean, if you don’t have something to begin with, then I don’t understand how you can suddenly have something.”
Charles took a moment as if thinking about her words and then chuckled. She looked at him in surprise and saw his grin widen.
“Miss Furniss, you don’t have to understand to do well.” Evidently seeing her confusion, he leaned closer. “I confess that sometimes mathematics doesn’t tend to make sense. What you need to do, Miss Furniss, is to simply stop thinking.”
“Stop thinking?” she asked wondering if she had heard him correctly.
“Yes, don’t think about why. Simply memorize the equations and the rules. Unless you are planning to become a mathematics professor or an engineer, or have a career as a banker, I see no need for you to understand higher math. You have more than enough knowledge in order to oversee the accounts and run a household of your own one day. If your goal is simply to pass the exam on Monday, then just stop thinking and memorize. Can you do that?”
She found herself nodding, even as she glanced over her shoulder back toward Edward’s study. “Do you think I can memorize enough to pass the next exam? I mean, make no mistakes at all?”
“When are you being given another chance?”
“Be… before dinner. Please, do you promise I can do this?” She saw his hesitation, and understood she was asking him for the impossible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, you misunderstood,” Charles said quickly. “I have faith in you, Miss Furniss, but you must also have faith in yourself. I can only promise that I’ll do my very best.”
She smiled and looked down at the paper. “Then I can do nothing less. Shall we begin?” The two studied, but this time he concentrated on drilling only the formulas and rules into her mind. By the time Edward returned to the room, she had more confidence. Louisa was nowhere to be seen, and Lucy wished she could be there to show her support.
Edward saw her look behind him and he smiled. “Louisa hasn’t been awakened from her nap, Lucille. Are you prepared for your exam?”
Lucy was confused at his choice of words about her sister napping but was more concerned about her own bottom at this juncture. “Yes, sir, I’m ready.”
He nodded and held out his hand. “Shall we attend to your exam in the study, little one?” Lucy flushed hotly at the endearment but found herself standing and putting her hand in Edward’s. She couldn’t bring herself to lift her eyes, but instead concentrated on repeating the formulas in her head as he led her to the study. She was trembling as he opened the door and led her inside. He didn’t release her until they reached his desk.
“You may sit in my chair, Lucille, while you take your exam. I believe you will find the soft leather a comfort on what I am sure is still a somewhat aching little bottom. I only hope your answers are good enough to keep the strop behind closed doors.”
Neither he nor Lucy had been aware that her professor had followed them until he softly cleared his throat at Edward’s words.
“I’m sorry,” Charles said, holding out a sheaf of papers. “You forgot the quiz.”
“Ah, thank you,” Edward said, accepting the quiz and setting it on his desk’s surface.
Lucy had stiffened and then realized there was only one way to keep her professor from witnessing more of her humiliation. She simply sank down on the chair, praying she’d remember her lessons and that she wouldn’t soon be finding herself bent across this huge expanse of wood, her skirts raised and her bloomers parted or at her feet, her bare bottom lifted as she was forced to ask for additional punishment.
“Relax, Lucille. Take a deep breath.” Edward had spoken softly but knew his words were reaching his ward. She was being very obedient, and though she was trembling a bit, he was very proud of her. His eyes and ears missed nothing, and he was well aware of the impact his conversation was having on Professor Lloyds. Edward kept his mouth firm though he truly wanted to smile. The man was obviously trying hard not to react to what he’d overheard but he wasn’t able to hide the flush that rose on his cheeks that easily telegraphed the attraction he felt for his student.
“I truly hope to see marked improvement, Lucille.” She bravely nodded and he added, “You may begin.” She began to work through the problems one at a time. The only sound in the room was her pencil scratching across the paper’s surface as she worked slowly, flipping the paper over. Edward was puzzled a moment as he could see she’d skipped several problems, but when she worked a few on the back of the paper and then flipped it over once more, he understood she’d chosen to work through the easy ones first. He nodded his approval, leaned a hip against his desk and watched her as she returned to work on the problems that had given her pause. She’d occasionally close her eyes, her teeth nibbling on the end of her pencil as she gave thought to her answers. She finished the last problem only seconds before Edward called time.
She laid down her pencil and passed her quiz to her professor. She and Edward watched as Charles ran his pencil down the page ticking off each answer. He was smiling widely as he looked up and passed the exam to Edward.
“Excellent job, Miss Furniss. You’ve completed each problem correctly. I’m very proud of you.” Lucy beamed at him, even as she sank back in the chair.
Her euphoria didn’t last long as Edward said, “I believe this was an unfair quiz, Lucille. Wasn’t it simply a repeat of the one you failed this afternoon?” Lucy glanced at her tutor and then back at her guardian.
“Ye… yes, but I got them all correct this time.”
Charles’ response surprised Edwar
d. “Miss Furniss, look at me.” Lucy turned to him, her face also revealing she was a bit shocked to hear him voice a command.
“Tell me, what happens when you multiply two negative numbers?”
“You get a positive number.”
“Correct. Tell me what is the proper way to divide fractions.”
“You turn the second number over and multiply across so you aren’t really using division at all.”
“Again that is correct. Can you work through this equation for me please?” He began to dictate a long string of numbers and she was about to panic when she saw Edward scribbling on a piece of paper.
“May I write it down, sir?” she asked and with his nod, Charles repeated the problem slowly as she wrote it down on a fresh piece of paper he gave her. He watched as she worked through the equation which contained several numbers in parenthesis as well as some fractions and smiled when she finished a second after Edward.
“What is the solution, Miss Furniss?” Charles asked.
“I believe the answer is… is zero.”
Edward asked sharply, “How positive are you of your answer, Lucille?”
She hesitated for a moment and then straightened her spine and said, “One hundred percent, sir.”
Edward’s face finally broke into a smile. “Correct. Tell me, what was the difference between this test and the last where you earned a paddling?”
Lucy’s face flushed but her eyes weren’t reflecting shame as they’d done often throughout the day. Instead, Edward saw they were shining with the pride of achievement as she answered, “I learned to take each bit of the problem at a time. I didn’t hurry, and have learned the formulas that Professor Lloyds has been trying to teach me for over a year.”
Edward nodded and pushed off the desk. “Very well done, little one. You may retire to your room and rest a bit before dressing for dinner. You shall continue your studies tomorrow.”
