Bound to Serve

by Sullivan Clarke

  Keeping his angry eyes on her face, Harker pulled a chair into the center of the room and sat down. In his hand was a folded leather strap. Elspeth deliberately avoided looking at it for fear she’d lose her nerve and be reduced to tears and pleading before he’d even landed the first blow.

  “Over my knee. Now.”

  Elspeth gulped. The hand that gripped the strap was large and strong, the arm attached to it well-muscled. And Harker, she knew, was angry. How far would he go in taking that anger out on her helpless bottom? For a moment she considered running but again she knew it would be fruitless. There was nowhere to go. She’d have to come back. And to what? An even worse beating.

  Tilting her chin up, she fixed her eyes on him. “I’ve done nothing wrong,” she said. “And we both know it.”

  “Hmm.” He regarded her. “But this is my house and you will do as I say. And I have decided your defiant nature needs more training and I intend to do just that. Now, again. Over my knee. Or I will make you wish you had complied in due haste.”

  Elspeth stepped forward and moved to the right side of the chair. Turning, she leaned forward until she felt her belly come in contact with his lap, felt him edge her forward until her pelvis was on his lap and she was tipping forward now, staring at the scuff marks on the heart pine flooring.

  She put her hands down to steady herself. Clifford Harker had placed her at such an angle that she had no choice but to keep her palms on the floor to steady herself. That meant when the blows began to fall she’d not be able to cover her bottom with her hands without being pitched forward onto her face.

  Elspeth wondered whether her Master knew this and decided he probably did. He was a hard man, and she felt sure hers was not the first female bottom to feel his disciplinary lash. Did he spank Caroline, she wondered. And if he did, did she cry? Did she beg? Did she become compliant and orderly, so predictable that the shock of her unexpected death hit him all the harder? She’d left, without permission and in a manner that hurt him. And there was nothing he could do about it. In the end, he could not control her.

  She had no idea as she lay there, of course, that she’d figured out the man she now served. The thoughts had come to her randomly and had left just as quickly as the strap descended hard on her upturned bottom. Harker had lifted her skirt up and the first blow landed on bare bottom, giving Elspeth little time to process the indignity that comes with having one’s modesty so violated.

  She bit her lip until she tasted blood, but try as she might to deflect the pain was unsuccessful. Moans became little shrieks and then cries for mercy – cries that went unheeded. Harker seemed determined to expunge any notion of defiance from his little servant’s mind, and halfway through the spanking began asking Elspeth if she had learned her lesson.

  “Will you defy me again?” he asked.

  “No!” she cried, and felt quite honestly that she would not, no matter how arbitrary or unfair his rules became. The pain in her bottom was building like a fire under her skin and she sought to evade Harker’s still-unflagging punishment by rocking her hips first to the left and to the right. But his grip around her waist was tight, and with her hands on the floor to balance herself she could not protect her vulnerable, tortured bottom.

  “Please, sir. Mercy! I beg of you! It hurts so! It hurts so very much!” The words were barely intelligible as she spoke them through her tears, but something in her tone satisfied Harker that he’d made the impression upon Elspeth that he’d intended. After one final, firm blow for good measure he stopped and looked down at his handiwork. The servant’s round bottom was now a mottled reddish purple, with several puffy stripes of skin where the strap had come down especially hard.

  She could barely stand when Harker helped her to her feet and for a moment he looked down at her.

  “Contrary to what you may think of me, it gives me no personal pleasure to thrash you so,” he said quietly. “I expect nothing from you except a hard day’s work and obedience without question or comment.”

  Elspeth raised her eyes to his for a moment and then dropped them again.

  “You want to say something,” he said.

  “No,” she said, sniffling.

  “I think you do.”

  “You just told me not to speak my mind,” she said.

  “I told you to obey without question or comment,” he said. “But now I’m telling you to speak.”

  She took a ragged breath and closed her eyes, for although Elspeth wanted to face him she could not bring herself to do so, not completely after what she’d been through. She was afraid of this man made so stern and bitter. And whereas she’d considered ways to reach him, now that she’d been given the opportunity she wasn’t sure she even wanted to.

  “Speak.” His voice was commanding now and she jumped a little at his tone.

  “Alright,” she said, summoning the courage to finally look at him. “Begging your pardon, sir, for it is not my intention to anger you and earn another thrashing at your hand, but if my role here were to clean and cook then I would have no problem holding my tongue. But sir, I’ve been put in charge of your children. It is my job now to tend to them and that means I must speak to them, and speak up for them. I must care for them, sir, and not just their needs. I must care for them as if they were my own, not to take their mother’s place but because they long for that kind of care. They cry out for it, sir. You can see it in their eyes. I know no other way to care for people – be they large or small – than to give them my love and humor, to tell them stories, to cheer them when they are sad. I cannot do this in silence and with a wall around my heart. Please sir, show mercy. Let me do this job as I was born to do it. Or set me free.”

  She stepped back, instinctively and folded her arms around herself. And although she’d not wanted to cave in to her feelings Elspeth began to cry. Her bottom still hurt, but so did her heart. Inside she felt as if she might break, so lonely and dejected and confused did she feel.

  Clifford Harker looked at the girl. She suddenly seemed so small and defeated, and her shaking shoulders and little hiccoughing sobs awakened a twinge inside him he thought had been lost.

  He looked around the room, as if seeking some invisible help, and then looked back at the girl. “Now, now,” he said. “Elspeth.”

  At the sound of her name she looked up, as puzzled at his kind tone as she had been by his unexplained cruelty of her.

  “Perhaps I have been too hard on you. I can understand why you are probably confused.” Harker ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Tis true that I’ve given you vague instructions, and perhaps the problem here is that I am trying to advise a young, lonely woman to approach the care of children with a male callousness you do not possess. On that count I can understand your confusion and I apologize.”

  This statement was so shocking to Elspeth that she stopped crying. He had apologized to her. But her relief was short lived, for a moment later his voice and expression again grew hard.

  “However, complete obedience is required, and while I may solicit your advice I will not have you offering it as though you were the one in charge. It is important to remember your place. Can you tell me what that is?”

  Elspeth took a ragged breath. “I am a servant in this household,” she said. “I am a governess to your two sons and that is all. I am not their mother, but in truth sir – if I may be so bold – I do not want to be. At the end of my tenure here I look forward to returning home and finding a husband among my own people, and having a bairn or two of my own to coddle and care for. Until I leave, I shall love your children and care for them, but do not think I seek to be anything other than what you’ve commanded I be.”

  “Good. Very good. Know your place, Elspeth. That is all I ask.”

  “Yessir.” She dropped into a curtsy and looked up at him. “May I be excused now, master? The boys. They will be wondering where I am. I told them I’d take them for a walk this morning.”

  “You did?”

  �
��With your permission.”

  “Granted. But don’t go far. It looks like rain.”

  “Yessir.”

  “And Elspeth..”

  “Sir?” She stopped and looked back, her eyes filled with apprehension.

  “If you want to play fairie games perhaps it’s not such a bad thing. Just don’t forget to make them say their prayers before bed.”

  Elspeth managed a small smile. “Thank you, sir.”

  She curtsied again and was gone, leaving Harker standing there watching her exit. She was limping slightly from the pain of the spanking that had left angry weals on her bottom and upper legs. And yet she’d squared her shoulders as she walked out and he knew it was because she didn’t want to impart her distress to the children.

  Harker turned and walked over to the window, looking out. The garden was in disarray. He should really get someone to weed and plant it. But as he thought this he felt a surge of guilt, one that he could not push down.

  What was wrong with him, thinking of the garden after he’d just beaten a servant for a sin that was more perceived than actual? The girl had been correct in her self-defense. She was new to his household, and the demands he’d put on her were probably excessive. If Caroline were alive, she’d say what she always did. “You expect too much, my dear. People aren’t perfect. We are flawed by nature. Learn to enjoy those flaws, for they are part of what makes one beautiful.”

  Only in retrospect did he understand. The little things that always bothered him about Caroline – her flightiness, her childlike faith in things, her petulance – were now among the things he missed the most.

  “Oh to have you back one more time,” he said. “To have you stamp your little foot and pout over some perceived injustice. I would laugh with delight to see it.”

  But the only answer was silence followed by the sounds of his two sons’ excited chatter as they exited the house in the company of a woman who was not their mother.

  ***

  “This is a nice one.” Harry picked up a rock and held it out to Elspeth. It could be part of the pathway.

  Elspeth leaned down and took the rock, making a serious face as she considered it.

  “Why Harry I do believe you are right. It would be a lovely addition.”

  She’d decided to help them make a fairy house similar to the ones she used to make as a child.

  “For the roof!” Colin was holding a handful of moss out to her.

  “Roofs aren’t green!” Harry glared at his brother.

  “They are in Elfbat’s country.”

  “Elspeth,” corrected her brother, and Elspeth smiled at him gently.

  “It’s alright, Harry. He can call me Elfbat if he wants. Elsbeth is hard to say. She knelt down and took the moss from Colin.”

  “Thanks, Col,” she said. “I’m pleased that you remembered.”

  “Maybe if the fairy house has a grass roof one of the fairies from your home will come visit you. And then maybe you won’t be so lonely.” He paused and looked up at her. “Papa made you cry.”

  Elspeth was taken aback and felt a lump in her throat. And not knowing what to say she leaned down and took the child in her arms.

  “It’s not so bad,” she lied. “I’m not crying now.” But even as she said the words tears sprung to her eyes. But they were tears of happiness. Someone here cared for her. She was not alone.

  “Papa says we are not to meddle in his affairs.”

  Elspeth stood. “And he is right.” She turned and wiped her eyes quickly and sniffed a bit. When she turned back it as with a smile on her face. “There are better things to do, after all, like building fairy houses.”

  She watched as the boys ran ahead of her, collecting sticks and leaves and lichen for the house. Harry had started the quest with some reluctance, and Elspeth was struck by how much like his father the boy seemed to be. She surmised that the younger child, Colin, had taken after his mother and even without ever having known her, a picture was emerging of Caroline as a beautiful and bright woman with a healthy dose of whimsy. She wondered what had drawn her to Clifford Harker, and him to her. The man seemed so serious, so angry. Was he ever a light-hearted person? Or was he tragic before tragedy struck.

  Overhead the sky was going gray and the boughs of trees dipped and swayed in the building wind.

  “Only a little further,” she called out. “And then we’ll have to go home.”

  Colin nodded but Harry pretended not to hear as he forged ahead down the path.

  “Harry!” Elspeth called out to the boy as a gust of wind picked up a bunch of fallen leaves and swirled them across the path. But again he ignored her and this time took off running, this time around the bend of the path.

  “Come back!” She dropped her basket and took Colin’s hand. “We have to go after him.”

  The two ran, and Elspeth finally scooped the younger boy up and carried him down the path.

  “Rascal,” she said, irritated. “Where did he go?”

  “I know where he went.” Colin said. Elspeth stopped.

  “Where?”

  “The churchyard. To visit mama. Papa won’t take us.”

  Elspeth put Colin down and looked through the trees. A short way up she could see the church with the little graveyard beside it. And there – just as Colin Harker had said – was his older brother.

  “Why won’t he take you?” she asked.

  “It makes him cry,” Colin said. “And men aren’t supposed to cry.”

  “Your papa told you this?” Elspeth asked the question gently. She didn’t want to pry, but couldn’t help herself in this case.

  “No,” Colin said, shaking his head. “I just know. I used to hear him in his room crying after we came back from leaving roses on her grave. I’d tell him not to be sad, that she was with the fairies. But he would just yell at me to go away.”

  Elspeth stood from where she’d been kneeling beside Colin.

  “Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”

  “But Papa will be mad.”

  “No he won’t,” she said. “We won’t tell him.”

  “Oh.” Colin didn’t venture an opinion on Elspeth’s plan and just watched as she stooped to pick a handful of ferns and lilies.

  The two walked in through the little gate and into the churchyard, through the stones to where the mother and baby brother of Colin and Harry lay sleeping under the dirt. Wordlessly, she handed Harry the plants she had picked and he regarded them, then her, before silently taking them and laying them on his mother’s grave.

  “I’m sorry,” Elspeth said. “I’m sorry that your mother and wee brother died.”

  Harry stood and wiped his nose. “Thank you,” he said in the same stoic tone his father would have used, and in that moment he seemed to think of his father, too because he turned to Elspeth.

  “You won’t tell him, will you? You won’t tell him that we came here. If you do there’ll e a thrashing.”

  “There will be no thrashing,” she said. “Not for this. Even if I have to take it for you, I will.”

  Harry turned then and hugged Elspeth, hard and desperately. And she put her hands on his shoulders which were shaking now with heavy sobs.

  “There there,” she said. “Cry all you want.”

  “I miss her,” he said. “I miss her so much. Why did she have to die?”

  “I don’t know,” Elspeth said. “There doesn’t seem to be a good reason, but loss is part of life. That’s why we need to love the ones we’re with while we have them.”

  Harry rubbed his wet face in Elspeth’s cloak. “Do you think she’d be angry?”

  “About what?” Elspeth asked.

  “About me hugging you?”

  Elspeth felt the jagged pain of another lump build in her throat. “No, lad,” she said. “Your mother wants you to love and be loved. I know she wants this, from wherever it is she watches you. She gave you so much, so much love. I can see this. And she gave it to you so you could share
it with others.”

  Harry nodded and turned back to the gravestone. Leaning down, he kissed his mother’s name. “I’ll come visit again soon,” he said.

  “Yes. Yes you will. As often as you’d like,” Elspeth said. “I promise.”

  Chapter Five

  “Clifford!”

  Barnabus Rose looked up from ledger he was toiling over and smiled. Hefting his considerable bulk from the stool he was seated on, he lumbered from behind the counter, his beefy hand extended.

  “It’s been a few days. I was beginning to wonder how you were. I heard from Mrs. Habersham that you’ve taken a governess for the lads. Suppose you’re busy getting her settled in, then?”

  Clifford nodded at the shopkeeper. “Yes, and it’s taken a bit longer than expected.”

  Rose shook his head. “It’s not always easy. The younger ones come over with strong backs but wild minds. Not all are suited to a life of service. It’s up to us to let them know what’s expected.”

  “It’s nothing that a firm hand won’t accomplish,” Harker said curtly.

  “I for one am glad to hear that.” Mrs. Habersham appeared at his side, and Clifford Harker nodded respectfully at the wife of his preacher.

  “She appeared willful,” the woman said, raising her nose in the air. “Willful women and girls are the tools of Satan if left untamed. You were wise, Harker, to take a hand to the girl lest she become an unsavory influence on your sons.”

  Clifford felt a slight irritation at the woman’s preachy tone. He knew full well how to protect his sons.

  “Your wife, if I remember, was willful. And as it turned out her insistence to mingle with the poor cost the poor thing her life. Perhaps if you’d been firmer…”

  “Gertrude!” Both turned to see Rev. Habersham approaching. Unlike Clifford Harker, the preacher was not trying to hide his irritation. “It is not for us to judge. The loss of Mrs. Harker was not by any fault of her husband. It was part of God’s plan.”