Reformed by the Scotsman

by Katie Douglas

  “You’ve been crying for at least half a minute.”

  When he said it, her eyes widened and she put a hand to her face. It was wet. Then she realized she’d sort-of known that on some level from the moment the tears began to fall.

  “But, I never cry!” she cried in disbelief. That elicited fresh tears as he held her to him and shushed her, and he reassured her and gently rubbed her back. She found five years of sorrow tumbling out all at once, as the floodgates were overwhelmed with the deep emotions that had been waiting for this opportunity to escape.

  “It’s all right, Adeline, let it all come out.” His embrace was comforting and she wanted it to never end, as her heart contorted with anguish.

  “I wish everything could go back to how it was before. When Max and I were inseparable, and Archie and Arty were, too. The four of us would forever be falling into non-adventures, exploring the manor house and the locality; being packed off to the seaside for the summers and singing carols in church at Christmas.”

  “Max was younger than you, wasn’t he?”

  “By a year, yes. He had a growth spurt when he was fourteen. He had been talking of joining up since the war broke out. Archie and Arty joined up almost at once, and poor Max felt like he had been left behind. When he heard the stories, about some lads of his age getting past the army medicals, he enlisted. It was summer of 1916 when he went; a year after Fliss and Arty’s engagement party. He was fifteen. The night before he left, we sat out on the terrace, and he told me his plan. He made me promise not to tell Father, and on my honor, I couldn’t go back on my word. I told him I would miss him terribly, and he told me he had to go.”

  She began to shake, and Edward held her in his strong, comforting arms as she was overwhelmed with grief. “He promised he would be back once he’d taught the Hun a lesson. He said he’d bring me back poppies from France. I never saw him again.” She felt the tears pouring down her cheeks and it felt good to get it out. “He died in March 1918. The letter said it was mustard gas, but I was sure it was a mistake. I knew he’d be back and he would leap off a train with a poppy for me. Then, they were everywhere. All the time. I couldn’t stand it. Big red poppies. Then, I started to detest anything with my name on it; my school certificates, letters from the bank, invitations to society balls, all of it. I couldn’t stop seeing poppies wherever I looked. And when I did, I felt so inconsolable. I know it’s ridiculous, but I didn’t understand how there could be poppies without Max. Hang the poppies! I’d rather never see a poppy again and have my brother back instead. More than that, I didn’t know how there could be Poppy without Max.”

  She saw the comprehension dawn on Edward’s face before he spoke. “So you started using your middle name instead?”

  She nodded. “Poppy died when Max did.” She began to cry again.

  He continued to hold her and console her until she ran out of tears. It was a very strange feeling. All this time, she’d been squashing her emotions down inside herself, stamping on them hard, forcing them away so she kept moving forward, kept living, but now they were coming out, and she wasn’t sure that was such a terrible thing. She was also very aware that Edward had been interrupted when he was about to… what? Consummate things? Was that the right word for two people who weren’t married? And instead he’d been reduced to the role of teddy bear while she blubbed like a child, all over his white shirt.

  “I’m dreadfully sorry, I’ve made you all wet,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Think nothing of the sort. Here.” He pulled his silk handkerchief out of his pocket and gently dabbed the tears away from her eyes, then he held it to her nose so she blew without having to let go of him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be apart from him at the moment, even to blow her nose.

  Once her face was dry, he hugged her to him and ran his fingers through her hair. “You know, you did look rather fetching with the longer hair, but this does suit you too.”

  “Do you mean that?” Since she’d chopped it all off, no one, aside from her female friends with similar hairstyles, had told her that her hair was nice. Plenty of people had said the opposite, in fact, including her parents.

  “Have I lied to you about any single thing since you came here?” he asked.

  She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. As they stayed together on the sandy beach, an unfamiliar sense of hope and calmness filled Adeline’s heart. Everything would be all right, because he was here. Perhaps she could let him into her heart, after all.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Edward wrote a letter to Adeline’s father. He restrained himself from filling it with all the choice criticisms of the man’s poor parenting techniques, and instead updated him on Adeline’s progress. With a sense of unease, he knew he had crossed a line at the beach. If Adeline hadn’t broken down in tears, Edward might have done something most improper.

  He wanted her so much, he could hardly think straight when she was around anymore. The feeling was mutual; he saw it in her eyes when she spoke to him, aside from all the little reasons she found to spend most days near him. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that he wanted her to spend all her days at his side. And nights. Underneath or on top were also appealing positions for her body relative to his. More and more, he found himself wondering what her opinion was about a range of different things.

  As he neared the close of his letter to her father, he was concerned that Adeline had been sent here to learn propriety and good behavior, and her father might be rather disappointed if he knew how well Adeline and Edward were getting along. Edward was five years her senior, which was a good age difference, and he had money, plenty to keep her in the lifestyle her parents lived, but he had no titles, nor interest in acquiring any, and another Wolstanton-Hawthorne engagement would almost certainly bring back bad memories for her family. He couldn’t put it off though. Edward knew this was one of those occasions where the bull had to be grasped by the horns. He added a paragraph to his letter, then finished it off with pleasantries before finding an envelope.

  “See that this gets delivered by first class post. I want it to reach Hathersedge no later than the first delivery of tomorrow morning.” He handed it to Guy, then went to locate the girl who was driving him to distraction. She was easy to find; all he had to do was follow his ears.

  Adeline was sitting in the piano room, with her back to the door, un-self-consciously playing ‘Three Little Maids From School.’ She really was partial to Gilbert and Sullivan, he thought approvingly. He stood at the door and listened to her playing, her injured hand now mostly healed, and his heart warmed when she began singing.

  Deciding it was best to make his presence known, he closed the door loudly behind him. She paused and looked away from the music book.

  “You’ve been scarce all morning,” she observed. “Busy surveying your estates?” She teased his unconventional approach to managing his family fortune, since he hadn’t invested in any land.

  He chuckled. “I was writing to your father.”

  “Why?” She looked serious now, and he wished he could take her worries away.

  “He naturally expects to be updated on your progress.”

  “And has the shrew been tamed, yet?”

  “The shrew, regrettably, turned out to be a kitten. And everyone knows that kittens are reckless and playful creatures who grow into cats. Further, I hazard that it is common knowledge that cats are fundamentally untamable. So, I regrettably informed your father that the best I could do was place a collar around your neck with a bell on it, so that the local population of field mice knew when to bolt for the hills.”

  She burst into gales of laughter. “You never spoke a word of that rot to my father.”

  “All right, what did I tell him?”

  “You told him that I had made some progress in some areas but that you felt I needed to remain under your influence for the foreseeable future, and that you would write again in a seven-day.”

&
nbsp; “You missed one important point. I also asked him if I could marry you.”

  He ducked as The Mikado sailed across the room in his direction.

  “You did what? How dare you! Of all the assumptive! Rude! Obnoxious! And… underhanded things to do to a girl!”

  “I thought you’d be thrilled.” He frowned as he tried to understand why she was so infuriated.

  “I might have been, had you not neglected one rather important detail,” she seethed.

  “That being what?” He didn’t think the matter was especially complicated.

  “You never asked me!”

  Edward shook his head. “Well, of course not. There’s no point asking you if your father flatly turns down my proposal, is there? I didn’t want to go behind his back.”

  “But mine is firmly against the wall as a result! What if I don’t wish to marry you?”

  “Don’t you?” He thought she felt the same way that he did. Anyway, it was the done thing to ask her father before he proposed to her, so her father and she both had a chance to oppose the match. If anyone should feel it was unjust, Edward thought he’d drawn the short straw, not her, since he had to ask two people if one girl could marry him.

  “Ooh! That’s not the point.”

  He decided it was time to take the situation in hand.

  “I fear the point is that your ego has been bruised because I followed the correct protocol. You’ve lodged your objections to the method, now kindly cease or I’ll spank the fire out of you.”

  “That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” she retorted. “Heaven forbid we actually talk like adults about our feelings.”

  “Well, I’d rather like to, but I can’t do that while you’re spitting more sparks than a tiger that swallowed a firecracker.”

  “Of course. Blame me for overreacting!”

  He had his hands around her waist at this point and he easily carried her to the piano stool, where he sat down and turned her over his knee. Once he slid her skirt back, he pulled her panties down so her bottom was bared to him. She wouldn’t stop wriggling, so he placed one of his legs over both of hers, and pinned her wrists against her back with his left hand.

  “Would you like to retract your earlier behavior?” he suggested.

  “Go to blazes!” she retorted.

  He peppered her bottom with a liberal application of justice, and soon she stopped struggling. Every time she took a breath, her warm body pressed against his legs through the fabric of his trousers.

  Her breathing became labored around the same time her bottom had turned a medium-rare color of pink. Edward cast his eye around the room for something that might make a more lasting impression. An old, spare pamphlet of staid and stuffy Elgar came to hand, and he rolled it into something more suited to the task. He rained swats of Elgar’s ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ over Adeline’s bottom and she squeaked as the sheet music inscribed its message on her backside.

  “You will not throw books. Books are precious. You also will not expect me to sidestep the correct etiquette when it comes to such important matters. If I did this incorrectly, your father would be entirely justified in turning me down.” He spoke firmly over the swatting sound of the sheet music.

  When she stopped trying to fight him, he released her and pointed her in the direction of the corner. While she was getting to her feet, she noticed the title of the sheet music in his hand.

  “That was a pompous and circumstantial thing to strike a girl’s rear with,” she said.

  “Then be more circumspect, and circumscribe your behavior.”

  Adeline opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again and marched to the corner. Her bottom was a lovely shade of pink, and looked to have a warm glow. Elgar was clearly good for her. While she was there, Edward went to fetch the tawse. When he returned, he opened a bureau to one side of the room and withdrew a long, thin wooden musical instrument. He tested it against his palm, then stood beside the piano.

  “Come here, please,” he said at length.

  Adeline turned and walked to Edward.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked.

  She glared at him and said nothing. Apparently, she was back to giving him the silent treatment.

  “I think this intervention is coming just in time. Bend over the back of the piano.”

  Sighing heavily, Adeline sulked the entire way as she leaned over the flat, polished wooden surface and pushed her bottom in the air.

  “Do you know what this is?” He held out the musical instrument. She stared at it then shook her head. “It’s called a fife. It’s a Scottish sort of flute, perfectly smooth unlike the baroque flutes of the French tradition, with all their buttons and other frifferies that would make them perfectly unsuitable for chastisement. Since this is only wooden, it has a sharp, solid thud to it. You are going to receive three with this, then I am going to use the tawse.”

  Adeline broke her silence then.

  “Oh, no, please don’t. I’ll be good,” she told him.

  He refused to be swayed on the matter. “You need to learn restraint. The time has passed for you to show contrition or willingness to change without my intervention.” He brought the fife down smartly on her sit-spot and, although he had hardly used much strength, she cried out loudly. It was certainly a potent implement, and Edward noted the red line that formed where it had landed. He struck her with it again and she yelped.

  “Please, Edward! I’ll behave,” she said.

  He brought it down a third time, watching her clench her cheeks immediately after, as a third red line appeared. Then, he put the fife back in its cupboard while she waited for him. She was a beautiful sight, draped submissively over the back of the piano, her bottom thrust high in the air for punishment while her head rested on her hands, elbows either sides of her head, her face pointed toward the window, and in the other direction, past the curve of her back as it melted into her bottom, there were her endless, shapely legs.

  “Now you will receive six with the tawse. You have made real progress this week, and I’d hate for you to lose it all again through childish behavior.” She was a vision as she awaited punishment, and she would make any man a fine wife, if they only knew how to get her to behave herself.

  His cock stirred in his trousers as he contemplated what he was about to do. Her slit gleamed with wetness and her clit was visibly swollen. Although she disliked being put in her place, it was very obvious that she craved a release right now. If they were married, he might be tempted to take her over the piano as soon as her punishment had concluded.

  He tried his best not to show how aroused he was. She needed a firm disciplinarian right now, not a lover. Perhaps, if she would only behave for long enough, he could show her an erotic, sensual spanking that would leave her drenched with her desire and begging for him to take her. If she became his wife, as he hoped, then he looked forward to giving her climax after quivering climax. There were so many things he wanted to share with her, but he couldn’t while she was misbehaving.

  He put a hand on the small of her back to steady her, then he brought the tawse down on her bottom, not holding back. This was for her own good.

  She howled after each stroke, contorting with pain even though he saw she was trying to remain still. The red stripes covering her bottom were different to the lines caused by the fife. These were lighter in color, and wider, and he knew the fiery lashes would really bring home the lesson he wanted to inscribe.

  Edward’s member strained against his underwear as he imagined what it would be like to sink into her sweet cunny while her bottom was so red and hot against him. Despite where his thoughts went, he remained stoic throughout.

  Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have spanked her so much for such an incident, but two things had concerned him. First, the fact that she’d thrown a rather solid book at him, and second, that she hadn’t backed down at all after being warned and after a hand spanking.

  When it was over, all
he wanted to do was hold her and reassure her, so he swept her up into his arms and kissed the top of her head as they stood beside the piano for a moment. She didn’t resist his embrace, but nor did she reciprocate. He released her sooner than he wanted, and looked deeply into her eyes, trying to remember that this was a discipline punishment as the swelling in his trousers demanded release.

  “I will always correct you when you falter,” he told her firmly. “Moreover, from now on, you will receive weekly straighteners.” Her lack of reaction told him that she didn’t know what that meant. “Weekly straighteners means that, one day of the week, I shall give you a thorough spanking, regardless of what you have done, simply to remind you not to misbehave.”

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “So even if I’m good, you’re still going to spank me?”

  “Yes. I will spank you every Sunday evening, regardless of where we are or what we are doing, until you are no longer in any danger of slipping into your old ways. If anything else necessitates a spanking through the week, you will get punished for those things, like you normally would.”

  “What if I tell you that I don’t wish to marry you?” she asked.

  It stabbed straight through his heart but he forced himself to remain stoic. He liked the young lady, but if she didn’t wish to wed him, that was entirely her choice.

  “You were sent here to be reformed, not married, and the two things are not related. Whether you marry me or not, you will still learn to behave yourself.”

  She nodded.

  “If that unpleasantness is over, you may return to what you were doing.” He waved a hand toward the piano. She shook her head, looking sad.

  “I don’t feel like playing any longer.” With that, she turned and left. He threw his hands up in the air out of sheer frustration, then went to the drawing room to find a glass of sherry. It had to be five o’clock in one of the colonies by now.

  * * *

  Adeline lay face down on her bed. She was deep in thought, trying to make sense of how she felt about everything. It would be much easier if her bottom didn’t smart so much.