Reformed by the Scotsman

by Katie Douglas

  “Come along, Adeline, it’s time to rise,” he told her. She opened her eyes and stared blearily around the room, then put her hand to her head.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll attend to myself. I have rather a sore head thanks to you!” she grumbled.

  Edward frowned. “The doctor gave you the sleeping pill because you were foolish enough to put your hand through a pane of glass, and I was concerned that you would be unable to sleep through the pain. You are fortunate that you didn’t kill yourself, and I am very glad that you’re mostly unscathed. So if your head hurts, you only have yourself to blame, and you can think of it as a lesson in why one should not attack innocent windows.”

  Most people seemed to innately know not to break glass, but clearly she had missed that life lesson as a child. Edward did wonder what sort of upbringing Adeline had received. The girl was demonstrably intelligent, despite her other shortcomings, which made her foolish behavior all the more baffling.

  He helped her out of bed and to the wash basin, where he averted his gaze while she performed her morning ablutions. He turned around in time to see her lifting the water jug in both hands, with the clear intent of attacking him with it. He patiently removed it from her hands and returned it to its place beside the basin.

  “I was only looking at the stamp underneath,” she said. He wasn’t certain that she’d actually wanted to hurt him with it. It seemed more like she felt that resistance was mandatory. Now he came to think about it, that explained the second escape attempt, too. He wondered why she felt the need to act that way, when there were little glimpses of a nice person beneath all the anger.

  “I wasn’t aware that you were interested in fine pottery. It’s Spode, if you must know,” he replied. The pottery-maker’s mark was most certainly not what had been on her mind when she’d picked up the jug, but Edward realized that if he punished her for every single thing she attempted, as well as the things she did, he would never do anything else and she would soon grow to despise him.

  If he had been in any doubt about whether the pottery had been of interest to her, she proved herself wrong by saying, “It looked like Wedgwood.”

  Edward suppressed a laugh and gently guided her out of the room. He was no expert, but the characteristic design of Wedgwood was unmistakable. One day, he would explain the very clear differences between Wedgwood and Spode, but now was not the time. When she turned to look for clothing, setting her breasts in motion beneath the thin chemise, Edward shook his head.

  “No, you remain in your underthings, today.” All her things were still in the room with the broken window, anyway.

  She seemed to be showing signs of relenting, because she nodded instead of fighting him over it, and she went downstairs to eat.

  After breakfast, Edward took Adeline into the drawing room and bade her stand before his desk.

  “Do you know why you are being punished?” he prompted. It was bloody obvious, but he wanted to hear her say it.

  “Yes. I damaged your window while I was trying to leave. I’m awfully sorry, you know.”

  It was impossible to repress his laughter that time. “The bally idea that I gave a hoot about the pane of glass! You are being punished because you paid no mind to your own safety, both in breaking the glass and in attempting to climb out of a second-floor window. Are you aware of the height of the ceilings in this house? They are fifteen feet! Including the height from the floor to the window ledge in the guestroom, that’s a thirty-three-foot drop to the ground. Do you know what happens if you fall from that height onto hard pavement?”

  She shook her head.

  “You would quite probably die.” He let that sink in. “Bend over my desk, I am going to use the tawse. It seemed to be moderately effective yesterday; I think you just need more of it.”

  To his surprise, she got into the prescribed position without any argument, and once she was there, it was a simple matter to fold back the silk chemise before he slid her knickers down. She had a lovely, heart-shaped bottom, with cute dimples at the top.

  He would love to spend hours caressing that delightful rear, teasing the white skin, and gently swatting her sit-spots until she was writhing with desire and begging him to fill her with his manhood. He was already growing hard from considering the things he’d like to do with her while she was in this position.

  Not today, however. Today was about her dangerous behavior. He picked up the two-tailed leather strap and walked around behind her. He lined it up on her bottom then drew it back and smartly spanked her sit-spot with a loud crack.

  She drew a breath and he was pleased that her bottom seemed to take on a red stripe almost immediately. She was so resistant to showing him when she was in pain, but he saw her adamantly fighting her own responses. The swat had undoubtedly taken effect. He slowly counted to ten in his head, then brought the tawse down on her cheeks once more. She uttered a slight moan then stifled it. If he were to get past her pride so he might change her without breaking her, she was going to require careful handling.

  Barely counting to three, he landed the tawse slightly above the last stroke, and she issued a strangled cry. He suspected that, in her case, there was a very fine line between what would be effective in improving her behavior and what would be too extreme, but eight strokes would suffice this time, he decided, as he aimed the fourth one over the crest of her buttocks, then waited again as she began to breathe more heavily. He heard the effort it was taking for her to stop herself from making a fuss, and decided now was a good time for a change of pace.

  The next two were spaced out, slow, and he had time to appreciate the sight before him. Her glowing bottom had taken on a delightful shade of pink, contrasting wonderfully with her pale skin above and beneath. Between her legs, he eyed the little line, like a split peach, where her sex stood out between her sparse blonde fur. It seemed to glisten slightly with her juices, and he felt his own arousal rising harder as he contemplated her, positioned over his desk like this.

  “Punishment becomes you,” he murmured, then brought the tawse down once more. She yelped this time, and again at the last stroke. He left her over his desk for a moment. He was pleased that she was responding to this treatment; yesterday she would have been trying to run away by this point in her correction.

  * * *

  Adeline remained over Edward’s desk for several long seconds, waiting for him to permit her to get up. It burned horribly. The morning’s chastisement had taken her by surprise, not because she’d expected to get away with her behavior, but more because she had thought he would repeat yesterday’s punishment. Would he continue to make these punishments incrementally more harsh?

  Worse still, she had found his treatment of her was arousing, invigorating. After yesterday’s excitement, she had decided her damp underwear was a strange coincidence. Had she ever been corrected before she came here? Not that she remembered. It was scandalous, but she desperately craved his touch. The words he had spoken echoed in her ears: punishment becomes you. Whatever did he mean? Was he becoming excited by this as well? She felt an urge inside her that made her want to lie down.

  “Go and stand in the corner, and if you don’t remain there until I permit you to move, you shall receive four more strokes of the tawse, bringing it to an even dozen.”

  Adeline rose from over the desk and walked to the appointed corner. It was difficult to move with her knickers around her knees and her bottom stinging and sore. Both walls were lined with books, and as she stood there, she started to read the titles to herself, wondering if Edward had read them all or not. She wasn’t sure how long she remained in the corner, but eventually, he called her back to him.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  He didn’t look angry, and when Adeline gazed into his endless blue eyes, she recognized some kindred-ness, despite their obvious differences in every possible way. Her heart fluttered. Embarrassed, she tried to bury the feeling.

  “I’m sorry for my beh
avior,” she said sheepishly, and looked away again, suddenly overcome with uncharacteristic demureness.

  “Very well, I forgive you. You may pull your underwear back up, now. Please don’t get yourself into any more dangerous scrapes.”

  “I won’t,” she said, certain at that moment that she was never going to misbehave again.

  When she went to the bathroom, she lifted her chemise and slid her knickers down. The marks were red, with the occasional outline of purple, and slightly swollen. When she touched them, they sort of tingled and they sent a fiery spark to that curious place between her legs, which made her want to touch there, also.

  She didn’t allow herself to investigate the tawse marks for too long, however, because she was certain that everyone in the house must know what she was doing. The spanking had been so loud that it was impossible for the help to be unaware that he’d punished her. She soaked some tissue in cold water and pressed it against her sore cheeks, stifling an inadvertent sigh of relief.

  As the day wore on, Adeline gave Edward coy glances and found many excuses to stand beside him. If the servants were shocked by her attire, they didn’t show it and she decided she wouldn’t have cared much, anyway.

  When Edward read the newspaper, she sat quietly on a chair nearby and admired his thoughtful expression as he read the articles. While he ate his lunch, she watched him handle his sandwiches adeptly with his tapered fingers. The highlight of the afternoon was when he put down his book and turned to her instead.

  “Come here, Adeline, I need to check your injury.”

  Her chest pounded as she stood and walked to where he sat, then held out her bandaged hand for him. Her skin tingled as he held her wrist with his left hand and deftly unraveled the gauze with his right. While he held her limb, turning it this way and that, she felt something no one had ever made her feel before: He actually cared about her.

  “Hmm, the cut seems to be a straightforward one, and the bleeding’s stopped, but I would imagine you won’t be able to use your hand properly for another few days. Does it hurt?” He met her gaze and she froze for a moment, lost in his beautiful blue eyes.

  “A little.” It mostly only hurt when she tried to touch things, then the sharp pain would slice through her hand again. The rest of the time, it was a dull tingle.

  “Will you do it again?” He raised an eyebrow to prompt her response.

  “No.” Now she knew windows were a lot more solid than they appeared, she had no intention of ever doing that again. The incident had made her feel faint at the time, although she’d fought through it with sheer bloody-mindedness.

  “Good.” He wrapped her hand with fresh gauze and went to the telephone in the hall.

  Adeline stared at her hand in amazement. He could have gotten the servants to examine her injury, but he had done it himself. Did that mean something? Nobody had taken an interest in her wellbeing since she was a child. The war had broken out when she was fourteen, and nobody had had the time to look after her or Max. The war had been the most important thing; it grew to overshadow everything. Was that why he’d gone? She furiously tried to distract herself from dwelling on her younger brother, and found herself idly planning an escape through the coal scuttle instead.

  She would go out, cheer herself up, then be back in her bed before Edward ever knew she had gone anywhere. After all, she was certain she didn’t want to break any more glass, but escaping was still an intriguing prospect, except that she was trying to behave.

  She wrestled with her conscience, but Edward chose that moment to return to the drawing room. She was struck by how dapper he looked in his crisp white shirt.

  “The glazier’s coming tomorrow. Tell me, Adeline, do you play?”

  Adeline looked away demurely, and against her recent habit, she thought before she spoke. “A little. I can’t do Liszt’s Campanella by any means,” she quipped.

  “Most concert pianists cannot play that piece,” Edward replied. “How about something a little less complicated, like ‘K-K-K-Katy’?”

  Adeline was a little surprised that Edward would know any popular music; he didn’t seem like the type to frequent music halls when there were an abundance of classical concerts to attend on any given Saturday.

  “Do you have the sheet music?” She glanced doubtfully at the polished upright piano in the corner of the room. It wasn’t dusty, but it didn’t look like it got frequent usage, all the same.

  “I’ll find the booklet, follow me.” Edward looked more lively than she’d seen him, as he walked out of the drawing room and opened another door.

  Adeline stepped inside and was surprised. This room was the size of the drawing room, but it was almost entirely dominated by a grand piano. The stool that sat before the keys was upholstered in almost-threadbare velvet. To one side of the piano, there was a huge stack of thin booklets, which Adeline instantly recognized as sheet music, interspersed with larger volumes that probably contained operas or concertos.

  “You play regularly,” Adeline observed.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled out the booklet, which looked far less dog-eared than some of the others, and placed it on the built-in music stand.

  “I can’t do the harmony with my hand.” She held up her injured hand, in case he’d forgotten.

  “I know. I’ll play the bass clef and sing the lyrics; you focus on the treble and the pedals.”

  He indicated for her to sit on the stool, while he stood beside her at a respectable distance, but still close enough to reach the keys.

  He counted them in, and Adeline began to play. It felt strange, at first, letting someone else take a part of what should have been one person’s song; the complexity of the piece certainly didn’t require two players, and her injured hand kept twitching as her eyes habitually followed both lines of music at the same time. If she didn’t know the song, perhaps it would have felt more natural to play it like this. She felt like her part wasn’t very well-defined on the page, and she kept getting the timing slightly wrong compared to Edward’s confident voice.

  Eventually she forgot what she was doing and her bandaged left hand landed clumsily on top of his, reflexively trying to play the harmony, causing a discord as she knocked his fingers against the keys.

  “Oh, I’m frightfully sorry. I was just trying to—”

  “You were trying to play my part, young lady.”

  Adeline blushed and nodded, feeling furiously embarrassed. Why was it so hard to let go?

  “Do you always find it difficult to relinquish control?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of course not. I simply lost track of what we were doing.”

  “Poppycock. You’re struggling to concentrate precisely because of the amount of effort you’re putting into remembering that someone else is doing some of the work here.”

  “I don’t like it!” she retorted, then tried to speak more civilly. “I simply prefer when I’m doing everything because I can depend on myself to do it.”

  “Are you saying I’m not a dependable sort of chap?” Edward cocked his head in askance.

  “Yes. No. Oh, don’t be an ass!” She glared at him as she tried to make up her mind. How did he do that to her? Normally, she simply barreled into every decision headfirst and worried about the consequences later.

  “I think I know the problem; you need something more challenging.” He riffled through the songbooks and pulled out a thicker volume, then handed it to Adeline. She glanced at the cover.

  “Gilbert and Sullivan.” She nodded approvingly. He clearly had excellent taste in music.

  “More your cup of tea?” he asked.

  She nodded emphatically, looking at the title page; he had chosen The Pirates of Penzance. It had always been her favorite. “Indeed. Can you sing? Properly, I mean; ‘K-K-K-Katy’ isn’t exactly difficult.”

  “Play, dear girl, and we shall both find out.” He sounded far more interested in the prospect, so Adeline obliged. She chose ‘The
Major-General’s Song,’ and played the melody from the beginning, while Edward took the lower piano notes.

  “I am the very model of a modern major-general; I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral…” When Edward began to sing, Adeline was so astounded that she hit the wrong key then lost her place in the music. His voice was such a rich baritone, with heart-quivering vibrato, that it filled her with awe and completely took her by surprise.

  He paused and looked at her, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Is something the matter?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I simply… uh… simply pressed the wrong key. Let’s try again.”

  This time, they made it all the way through the song, and halfway through, Adeline realized Edward wasn’t even looking at the lyrics; he knew them by heart. When the song reached its end, Edward flipped the page on the book, and they started on the next song. This time, Adeline felt brave enough to sing, too.

  It was two hours later when they played the final notes on the final page, then they both stopped and sat in silence for a moment, before slowly turning to look at one another.

  “So, you’re partial to comic operetta?” Edward said, with an eyebrow raised.

  Adeline smiled and looked away. “I suppose I am.”

  “There might be some glimmerings of a redeemable human being inside you, yet.”

  Adeline frowned. “I’m not a bad sort, you know. I mean, my parents… they like to think so, because it’s easier for them than the truth, but you shouldn’t believe everything they say about me.”

  “I haven’t once made an assumption about you. I have only ever reacted to the evidence before my eyes. Regrettably, it’s been pretty damning thus far.”

  Adeline stood up from the piano and stalked out of the room before he said anything more. She ran upstairs to the guestroom, her face flushed, and furiously threw herself on the bed then rolled over so the pillow wasn’t stifling her. Feeling thoroughly maddened by his words, she stared at the ceiling and tried to center herself.