Delia's Debt

by Allison West

  “Look at me!”

  Her chin slowly rose as her eyes met his. “I am sorry for stealing from that gentleman.”

  “That gentleman was my cousin. A rotten bastard who would have had you sent to the penal colony in Australia. It is after all what he does for a living.”

  With wide eyes, her mouth formed a large ‘o’ as she realized what she had done. At least Charles’s cousin had not caught her and no one other than Charles had witnessed what she had done. Delia had always been careful when it came to thievery. She did not want to tarnish her father’s good name either. “I had no idea.”

  “It does not matter whether you know or not, what matters is the fact you had no business stealing from another person.”

  “I promise, Charles, I will never do it again.”

  “Your promises will mean something after you face a proper punishment.”

  Delia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Punishment?” she repeated, her stomach a bundle of nerves.

  “I want your dress up and you bottom out. Your bottom will receive a firm lashing for the trouble you have caused.” Charles tapped the corner of the desk. “You will stand at the end of the desk and lean forward. For every sound and complaint, you make, I am prepared to give you two additional swats.”

  “You are going to spank me?” she asked as she felt butterflies ready to slip from her mouth. She was beyond nauseous. Hopefully she would not get sick all over the beautiful marble flooring.

  “I am going to teach you a lesson. Ladies must learn to submit, especially any woman who works in my household, I expect a great deal from her, obedience included.” Charles walked to the closet as Delia stood awkwardly at the edge of the table. She had not yet lifted her gown, waiting until the absolute last moment, praying he would change his mind and forgive her. Perhaps it was all a game of some sort to see if she would listen to him, though no smile seemed to appear on his face.

  Retrieving a cane from a closet in the back of his library, her eyes widened. “Can you just—use your hand?” She did not want to feel the long bite of the cane smack her backside.

  “My hand and even the paddle are for small offenses. Not only did you steal but I specifically asked you not to and you disobeyed me. You will accept your punishment and then we will move past this for dinner.”

  The thought of food was furthest from Delia’s mind.

  “Skirt up,” Charles said as he extended the cane to its full length.

  Delia lifted her skirt and stretched across the desk, her hands finding the edge as she laid her chest against the cool wood.

  The first blow to her bottom forced her toes to jump and a slight yelp to slip from her lips.

  “Quiet. Unless you want the entire house to know of your punishment.”

  Her cheeks burned at the thought of Nanny Ida discovering what she had done. It was bad enough Ida did not seem to like her but she did not wish to give the woman a reason either. Delia slammed her lips shut and groaned as the second and third swat lay across her skin. It burned, far more than she thought possible. Would she ever be able to sit again?

  “You will learn, Delia, that I am the master and you will always do as I tell you.” The cane smacked over her sensitive flesh, landing on the plumping red welt that Charles had already given her a moment ago.

  Whimpering she suppressed the urge to speak out. Her eyes welled with tears. “Please, stop.” Would begging him lighten the punishment or force him to add extra strikes? Her bottom burned from the cane. Without seeing the damage, she knew there were streaks against her rear that he had inflicted because she had not listened to him.

  He delivered another lash, the sting roaring over her, forcing her quim to pulse. What had he done to elicit such an effect? Sure he was handsome and she did not deny the attraction, but he was putting her over a desk, branding her with his stupid cane. She wanted to rip that cane from his hands and toast his bottom as red as he made hers. Delia knew he would never give her the opportunity and fighting back would probably lead to further discipline.

  “Do you promise to listen to me from now on?” Charles asked, his breath close to her ear as he stood beside the table.

  Momentarily she relaxed, realizing his hand with the cane was not near her bottom. “I promise. No more stealing,” she mumbled, finding it difficult to breathe as the tears took over once again and turned to uncontrollable sobs.

  Watching her for a long moment, he sighed. “Come here,” Charles said, pulling her to stand and then he led her to a chair where he sat down, pulling her into his lap. He held her, rocking her in his arms as she bawled, letting out all the emotion, pain, and fear she had felt with his discipline.

  Chapter 3

  She had forced his hand, giving him no option but to discipline her when he had discovered her thievery. How dare she defy him! All he had asked of her was to stay out of trouble and not to steal on their short trip to the market. The entire ride had been far longer than the few minutes he had left her unattended.

  He blamed himself for that mistake, not keeping a watchful eye over the misguided young governess. What troubled her so much that she would risk a one-way trip to the penal colony? Did she not realize that her actions had severe consequences? Perhaps it had been her first time getting caught and if that were the case, then he prayed it would be the last.

  In all the years of being a father and having several governesses join his home, he had never used the cane on a single one. The maid, she had her fair share of discipline that he had dished out on more than one occasion but it certainly had not been the first time they had spent together.

  Had he been too harsh?

  Watching her sob, hearing her cry, it had been painful and so he went against all better judgment and pulled her with him, into his arms to sit down. Maybe he should not have rewarded her behavior, but he did not want her to fear him either. Charles expected the rules to be followed but he was a far cry from a bad man. She knew that, didn’t she? He worried that the moment he let go she would run, slip through the front door, and never return.

  “Promise me you will not break the rules again.” His hand smoothed over her back as her sobs settled down.

  She hiccupped softly against his chest, his shirt soaked with her tears as she slowly pulled back. “I will not disobey you,” Delia said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Charles nodded. “Good.” He did not wish to dwell on the situation a moment longer than necessary. “Come. Dinner is ready and I would like the two of us to sit together and enjoy a hot meal.”

  Delia stood and the moment her body left his, he felt a sudden shiver and the air seemed to be exceptionally cool. Already he missed her warmth and the natural shape as her body had curled into his embrace. He wanted to hold her again and yet he knew that it would not seem appropriate. Perhaps he could find another excuse to pull her into his arms without question. He was not one to force himself on any woman though, and would need a reason and justification for such actions.

  Tempted to take her hand, his fingers twitched before his palms found the sides of his legs and then slipped into his pockets. “I will show you to the dining room.”

  Charles led Delia out of the library and down the hall. Her feet were light on the marble flooring, quiet and impossible to hear as he opened the door to the dining room and let her in first.

  “It is quite beautiful,” she said, her voice timid as her eyes raked over the table spread out with enough food to feed the entire house. “Who else is dining with us tonight?”

  “It will be just the two of us,” Charles said. “I thought we should spend the evening getting to know one another. I like to know who will be teaching my girls, what values they have and will instill on them.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do not be rattled,” he said, sensing her discomfort. “The past is forgotten so long as it stays that way.” Charles did one thing well, refusing to hold a grudge. He had moved on and expected Delia to do the same.

  Char
les walked her to the long wooden table that easily would have sat ten around its rectangular shape. It was used for small parties and when he hosted guests, something that seemed rare as of late. Being a gentleman, he slid the chair from the table and waited for Delia to sit down before pushing it closer.

  The grimace on her face only made his grin wider. “A bit uncomfortable?” He watched as she shifted her bottom, knowing quite well the sting of a spanking. The wooden chairs offered no cushion or support to soften the oak pressed tight to her rosy cheeks. He desired to be that chair, to feel her squirm as its hardness pushed against her forcing an intense throbbing as it electrified her body.

  His cock hardened at the mere thought and he abruptly turned and walked around the table, sitting down across from Delia. He did his best to appear natural, though he felt flustered, praying she had not seen his erection poking at his trousers.

  She fanned her face, her cheeks flushed. “There is far more food on this table than two of us can eat. Should we not invite your children to dine with us?”

  Did she think he was such a heartless man that he had not considered the well-being of his two young girls? “Emma and Alice have already eaten. Their dinner hour is at five o’clock. Their baths are at six and they are to be in bed promptly by seven.” The hour was nearing seven already and his children did not need an additional meal before falling to sleep.

  “I will try and remember that,” Delia said.

  “You need not worry, the nanny is responsible for putting them to bed and looking after them. Tomorrow you will be accountable for seeing that the girls are learning their lessons. Tell me, governess, what do you plan to teach Emma on her first day with you?” He lifted the spoon for his soup and took a sip, his attention between his hot food and the woman sitting across from him. Everything else seemed to fade around him, the beige walls with delicate paintings of flowers and fruits, and the window that offered only a hint of light as the sun had gone down.

  Delia lifted the spoon but did not place it yet into her bowl. “I will need to determine how much Emma has already learned from her previous governesses, all four of them.”

  Was that intentional a shot at him for not being able to keep a governess around? He had not chased them all off. Certainly some could not handle the rules or the discipline that followed, but he had always been fair and reasonable.

  “She has learned what any young girl by age seven should know.” He defended the schooling of his eldest daughter. “Tell me, Delia, will Emma be your first student or have you been a governess prior to coming to my estate?”

  Delia took a sip of soup before reaching for her cup of water. “I may have exaggerated my prior experiences.”

  “I suspected as much when you first came to my door.” They had exchanged correspondences leading up to his decision to hire Delia, but he had been in a rush to bring her to his home. She had insisted that the family she worked for, the children had grown up and that she was in need of a new position that desired a governess long-term. She certainly did not look old enough to have helped raise another child let alone spend many years as a governess. “You have experience working at your father’s shop. Am I correct?”

  She ripped a piece of bread from the loaf and smothered it with butter.

  Was she avoiding the question or thinking of the best way to answer him? He had spanked her once for disobedience, Charles did not feel proud to know that she had lied to him.

  “Yes,” she said, and took a small bite from the slice of bread. “I had a governess until I was twelve, at which time I helped out in my father’s shop. At fifteen he had me running the store on days he had to travel for more merchandise.”

  “Is that the life you see for my girls? Selling dresses at the market when they turn twelve?”

  “No.” Her eyes fell to the table. “I would not wish it on anyone.”

  “What do you know of being a governess?” Charles asked. Had he lost his mind agreeing to keep her in his home? At first glance, knowing she was a thief, he should have turned her away. Would she steal from him too? No. He would make sure that her sticky fingers ended at the door and he would curb her desire for trouble.

  “I wish not to return home. I would much rather be a governess than continue to work in my father’s shop.”

  Had that been the sole reason she had come to work for him? “What else? What made you leave what you knew for this?” he asked. It could not have been easy for a young woman with no prior governess experience to travel alone on the rails to Windsor. Certainly London was not so far, but she had left her home behind.

  “My father can no longer afford me and his shop. I am old enough to fend for myself.”

  Nodding, he sipped from his soup, listening and letting the words sink in. “That was why you chose to steal from me and my cousin?”

  “I did not have the faintest idea what was in that box until you had ridden off. Had I been made aware that the gift was for your youngest girl, I would never have done such a thing.”

  “What about the wallet?” Charles asked, curious what excuse she had in her head that justified her actions.

  “The gentleman looked as though he would not have missed whatever money he carried on him. I would have sent the funds to my father, to ensure he is eating a proper meal without me there.”

  Charles’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you used to cook for him?” He reached for the wine glass, tasting the sweet red liquid as it slid down his throat.

  “Yes. More so recently as he was forced to dismiss the additional help in the kitchen.”

  “What else can you do?” he asked, finishing the last bite of his soup before starting the next course of dinner.

  “What do you mean?” Delia asked, sounding perplexed.

  “You cook, you ran a shop, what other experience do you have?” Charles had not intended to grill the young woman but he wanted to know what knowledge she had acquired that would be skillful for his children.

  “I can mend a dress. Though I do not have the skill to create one entirely from silk.”

  Charles smiled. “You need not worry. We have dressmakers who handle my girls’ clothes. May I ask how old you are?” He did not wish to sound rude but he was rather curious of her age. She looked young and her size and petite stature certainly alluded to the fact she was barely past her years of being a child. Maybe it was the flush of her cheeks and her hair tied up that made her appear youthful.

  “Twenty-five,” she said, her eyes locked with his. “Is that a problem?”

  “No. I was merely just curious. You look quite a bit younger.”

  Her cheeks reddened even further, matching her bottom from earlier that he had caned. Sighing, it was a thought he wanted furthest from his mind. “How come you have no husband? Is it the lack of dowry that has put you in such a position?”

  “Yes.” She answered rather quickly as she reached for her glass of water, swallowing the entire contents of liquid. Placing the empty cup on the table, she breathed hard. “I do not wish to speak about my dowry or my future as a wife.”

  Charles would give her this one, considering she had been honest and forthcoming with the information about her father. It probably hurt her to think she could not marry and had nothing to offer a potential candidate. He wanted her mind as far from such thoughts anyhow. He loved his girls and wanted to give them a governess who would not desire to leave his home. Perhaps if he showed her the proper amount of attention, she would be inclined to stay. Though he was not sure what that would even entail.

  “Very well,” he said, working on the second course of the meal as he cut up his lamb and took a bite of vegetables that were coated in butter and herbs. “I do hope we can do this again.”

  “Do what?” Delia asked, nibbling at her food as the kitchen staff refilled her water.

  “Have dinner with me again. On occasion I am out of the house for business, but I would much prefer the company of a beautiful young woman when dining at home.”

>   Her cheeks blushed as she sipped from her water glass. “Thank you. May I ask what is it that you do?”

  He was surprised by her question. No other governess or any of the members of his household had asked him such a personal question. “I am a banker. Perhaps you are familiar with what I do?” Her father had likely deposited funds or taken out a loan for the silks at the store. He was not an idiot. If her family had very little money, then the silks had been quite an expense to hold onto if they were not selling.

  “Yes,” Delia said. “My father worked quite often with the bankers in London.”

  “Good.” He nodded finishing the last bite of his meal. “Tell me, Delia, what do you plan to teach Emma once you have established what she already knows?”

  “Accounts, sewing, drawing, music, dancing, and the use of globes.” She rattled each item off as though it were a list and she was trying to remember everything.

  “What about French?” Charles asked.

  Delia stumbled with an answer.

  Sighing, already he was disappointed that she had not jumped at including that in her teachings. “Did your governess neglect your language lessons?” He had not intended to sound as harsh as the words came out. He grimaced as her eyes shot down to her plate. She pushed her chair back slightly. “Where are you going?”

  “I am no longer hungry.”

  “You ask to be excused, same as the children when they are finished eating. Perhaps I shall bring a governess in to my home to teach you and my children proper etiquette.”

  She grimaced, the words clearly had an affect on her.

  “Listen, I am sorry, but you have to act as a role model for the girls.”

  “The girls are in bed,” she said, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. “I assure you my mistake will not be repeated in front of them. May I be excused?”