The Nanny

by Alta Hensley

  The waitress returned to the table and brought a small kettle, along with two cups and several options for tea.

  Giana did not care about what flavor she drank. All that interested her was the heat from the mug as she absorbed the warmth upon her hands and swallowed the piping hot liquid as it coursed down her throat.

  "I will have whatever Mr. Hartley is having to drink," she said, assuming it was a safe option, considering he frequented the establishment far more than she ever would. That she would ever come back to such a nice place, cozy and warm, with good food, seemed unlikely. She did well to hide her disappointment, not wanting to upset Philip. He had been kind and princely to her, and so far had asked nothing of her in return. Whatever he wanted, she was certain he would come out with it soon. Men did not invite street urchins for dinner unless they had a motive behind their generosity.

  "Very well," the waitress said, procuring two metal balls containing dried leaves and, from the smell of it, spices. She dipped them into the water, leaving the chains sticking out to retrieve. "Your food will be out shortly."

  "Thank you," Philip said, giving her a polite nod.

  Giana lifted the warm ceramic cup and felt as though any last remnant of cold had vanished from her body. Toasty and comfortable, she sipped the liquid and let her eyes close, reveling in the feeling this fine gentleman had given her. She did not dare think of him as anything else until he opened his mouth to ask her a favor. Giana suspected he would request her comfort in bed, or perhaps beg her to bend down onto her knees while he loosened his trousers. She tried to quell such atrocious ideas. Perhaps Philip was merely a kind man, who had seen a lady down on her luck and thought it would be nice to feed her. Why her, though? There had to be plenty of young women on the streets, begging for food and pickpocketing to survive.

  "Why did you bring me here, Mr. Hartley?" Giana could no longer wait to hear what he wanted.

  He brought the teacup to his lips and took a slow sip. Carefully placing the china back down on the table, he released a soft sigh. "I intended to have this conversation after we had eaten dinner, Giana."

  She did not relent, or apologize for asking what he wanted from her.

  Silence swept over them, and with another sigh, this one much more resigned, as if she had won, he placed both his hands, clasped together, upon the table. "I am looking for a nanny for the young ladies at my finishing school. The Ashby Chateau, perhaps you have heard of it?"

  Giana shook her head. "I am sorry, Mr. Hartley. I am unfamiliar with any finishing schools." She herself had never been, so she had no reason to know of their names, locations, or reputations.

  "I had not expected you to know of it. We are especially known for the submission of naughty young women who need a strict hand and a proper upbringing. There are two divisions within Ashby: our elite finishing school, and the gem of the chateau, where young women are regressed back to their childhood and trained to submit to their betrotheds. I am in need of a nanny for my school of littles, and seeing as how you could obviously use a place to sleep and three hot meals a day, I think it would be wise for you to thoroughly consider my suggestion before turning me down."

  Had a lot of women whom he had asked to be a nanny turned him down? "You are offering me a position as a nanny? I know nothing of children, Mr. Hartley." Giana needed to get out of the cold, and the warmth of the restaurant was nice, but it would not last. After her meal, she would go back out into the biting chill and suffer, with her worn shoes and torn gown that offered nowhere near enough protection from the winter air.

  "Well, to begin with, the littles' school at Ashby does not accept anyone under the age of eighteen, so you would not need any knowledge of how to deal with children. You will, however, be responsible for the care of the young ladies in your charge. They will require being bathed, fed, supervised, disciplined, and put to bed. I have no doubt that you will find it a rewarding experience."

  "I am not sure what you mean. Did you not just say that the pupils were not children?"

  "They are not children at all, and yet, in many ways, they are to be treated as such. They are littles—women who allow their minds, their bodies, and their souls to find their inner child. They are trained to find the purest of submission that any woman could offer to her betrothed. Being a little is a gift that they choose to offer to a husband who requires such a gem. They will need your care, your attention, your guidance, and even your firm hand and discipline. It is what is required of a nanny should you choose to accept this position."

  Giana swallowed the lump in her throat. Would she really be able to discipline a woman who was practically her own age? Why would a woman agree to attend such a school?

  The door to the restaurant opened as a patron stepped inside, along with the cold air and rush of wind that followed. The chimes on the door swung, tinkling with the icy gust.

  "As a nanny of the chateau, you would also receive new clothes, shoes, and access to warm water to draw yourself a bath. I am sure those are all luxuries for you right now," Philip went on.

  He was taunting her with what she could have if she accepted the strange position. Was she insane for even considering it? What else would she do with her life? She had lost her status and home, and been forced onto the streets as nothing more than a beggar. The likelihood of her getting a second chance was small, and this had seemed to find her. If she did not decide swiftly, the opportunity may no longer present itself.

  Giana had so many questions but she feared that if she began an inquisition, Philip would rescind his offer and, as odd as it all seemed, it was still a job and a way off the freezing streets. "May I ask you one final question, Mr. Hartley? And I do not intend to cause you any disrespect with such an inquiry."

  He raised an eyebrow, seeming quite amused already. "Go on."

  "Do you select all your nannies from the street? What would make you assume I have any qualifications to be a nanny at your establishment?" There was something to be said for choosing a girl whom no one would notice had gone missing. Her family had disowned her, and if she did disappear from the streets, whether from freezing and dying in her sleep, or being swept away by a wealthy man looking for a nanny for his school, she doubted anyone would realize she had vanished.

  Philip seemed to be caught off guard, and breathed a sigh of what she suspected to be relief as their meals were brought to the table. He waited until the waitress had stepped away before continuing the conversation. "I do require a certain amount of secrecy for my school of littles. You must understand how it would look to most who do not understand the desires of wealthy men. I have been watching you over the past couple of days in passing. I did choose you because you seem down on your luck," he said, "but I can also tell that you come from a well-to-do family. You are not simply an urchin, this much I can tell. You know which fork to use, and how to sit like a lady, even in the tattered rags you wear. I do not wish to insult you any more than you wish to do the same to me, Miss Giana." Philip took a long drink of his tea, giving her time to absorb what he had just revealed, before asking, "What will it be? Do you desire the opportunity of a lifetime? It is not the most conventional job, but a job nonetheless. As long as you remain a nanny at Ashby, I assure you that everything you need will be paid for."

  Giana felt her heart twitch and her fingers tremble. She reached for her tea, hoping the tremor was solely from the cold and not her nerves. Her voice, however, betrayed her as she spoke. "Yes. I shall accompany you to your finishing school. What was it called again?"

  "The Ashby Chateau."

  Chapter II

  Theodore Elliott climbed out from his carriage, the sun forcing him to squint. The snow had let up, and though it had been a brutal winter, he had been lucky to spend most of his time inside, aside from his trips to and from work.

  Fit and ready for marriage, Theo had not the time to travel and find a lady who could please him in the way he most desired. Through his dealings as a businessman, he had met an assortment
of ladies, all intent on marrying him if only he would propose. Perhaps they were influenced by his wealth and status, which was what brought them to his doorstep. Most were of a fine caliber, polite, with a proper upbringing, but they all bored him. Each was pretty in her own way, but not pretty enough by his standards. It was not the way a woman looked that interested him, so much as the beauty in what she craved from a man. The women he inquired about were too timid to speak of their desires, or perhaps put off by such an idea. It may have been bordering on scandalous, but he was looking for a wife, one who would allow and embrace his dominance while also understanding her true submissive nature, and the sexual strength that came from that. That was not to say the ladies he had met were not docile, many were, but they barely had the courage to meet his intense, steely gaze.

  Theo, thus far, had not met a woman whom he wanted to claim as Mrs. Elliott.

  He exited the carriage and walked briskly to the door; the sun did not steal the bite from the cold. Knocking, he waited for Mr. Marlowe to answer it.

  The lock clicked, and the door slowly pulled back to reveal a young woman dressed in a powder blue gown, with her hair in two ribbons holding brown, tamed curls. White stockings graced her legs, below a dress that was far shorter than Theo had ever seen. Her eyes sparkled with the light of the sun behind him. She did not move to let the stranger in, just as a child would have been instructed.

  "May I help you?" the young woman asked. Her voice seemed older, more mature than he first thought. It took Mr. Elliott a moment to regain his composure and realize that the young woman who stood before him was in fact a lady, a woman with her breasts bound tight under the gown.

  "Little Leda, where are you?" He heard a voice from behind her call out.

  "At the door, Papa. There is a gentleman to see you."

  "Mr. Francis Marlowe," Theo said, catching sight of the gentleman in dark black trousers and matching waistcoat. "I was hoping to have a moment of your time. My name is Theodore Elliott."

  "I am sorry, but I do not believe we have ever been acquainted, Mr. Elliott," Mr. Marlowe said, scrutinizing him as he protectively ushered the woman behind his body.

  "Please, call me Theo. I wanted to stop by and ask your thoughts on a certain finishing school—the Ashby Chateau. I received your name from an associate of mine, and was hoping you would have a minute to speak with me."

  "You are seeking a reference in regards to sending your betrothed to Ashby?" Francis asked. He paused and stepped aside. "Do come inside out of the cold."

  "Thank you," Theo said, wiping his shoes clean of the last remnants of snow that had stuck to the soles. "I do not have a betrothed, so much as I am seeking a woman whom I will find satisfying on many levels. There are rumors of a school which develops young ladies into littles. I do not know if Ashby is the school I speak of, but it comes highly recommended. As I said before, an associate informed me that your Leda had spent some time at the facility." Theo cast his eyes at the woman who still stood closely behind, before looking back at Francis.

  Francis's eyes squinted slightly. "Yes, Mr. Hartley runs the finishing school. He is known for interviewing potential suitors. Perhaps you should make an appointment with him." Francis led Theo further inside his home into the living room, offering him a seat.

  "That is where I come to you, Mr. Marlowe." Theo sat down, his eyes never leaving Francis's. Though the house was large and exquisite, he expected no less from a gentleman who paid for the proper schooling for his little one. Wooden floors under his feet, with high ceilings and a gorgeous custom trim around the walls. Painted in a warm beige with white borders, the house emanated a homey feeling. The paintings affixed to the walls were masculine, with dark rich bold colors and sharp lines, very abstract.

  "Please, call me Francis."

  "Francis, it is my understanding that the headmaster will only speak with a potential suitor for a young woman at his school if he comes with a direct recommendation from a former alumnus."

  "Leda, dear, would you put on the kettle for tea?" Francis asked his young wife.

  Theo glanced briefly to examine the wedding band upon Francis's finger. It did appear as though they were married and she seemed pleased, with a smile on her face, and offering to help him at a whim. Those were small tasks he desired of a woman for himself.

  Francis's voice dropped so that no one could overhear their conversation, including Leda. "Are you sure you are looking for a woman to become little? It is not for everyone. Most do not get through the first round of questions with the headmaster."

  "I desire a woman who will submit entirely to me. I wish to cuddle and comfort her, delight her with the promise of our future together, and make her life carefree whenever possible. I wish to nurture a woman in the most intimate of ways, not just marry her. Do you know where I might find a young woman who shares the same aspirations if not at Ashby?"

  Francis chuckled. "No, I would say not. Ashby does offer something no one else does. But the headmaster requires a lot from the papas. Not to mention the sizeable expense associated with it."

  Theo nodded. "I have no problem with the expense, nor rising to the standards set by the school. This is something I deeply desire, Francis. I am sure you can understand that need."

  "I do. I understand it completely."

  Leda returned, her footsteps light on the wooden floorboards. The house was large, but not nearly as lavish as Theo's own estate. The golden hues of the walls brought in more warm light from the afternoon sun, adding a touch of color to the pale blue and white couch, which Theo sat upon.

  Carrying with her a silver tray containing tea and biscuits, Leda bent down to place the items on the wooden table beside the sofa. "May I get you anything else?"

  "That will be all, Leda," Francis said, gesturing for her to come sit on his lap.

  Theo could not help but smile, comfortable at the intimacy the two of them shared as she sat down upon Francis's lap and he wrapped his arms around her. Leda cuddled her head against Francis's shoulder, curling her knees up to her chest. She truly looked like a little angel wrapped in the strength of her husband's embrace.

  Theo reached for his cup of tea, the heat wafting upwards as he blew upon the hot liquid before bringing the porcelain to his lips for a sip. What Francis and Leda shared seemed unconventional, but it was what he desired the most. He hoped he was not being rude in discussing it further with Leda in the room. "May I ask you, Leda, what did you think of your time at Ashby?"

  Leda exhaled a heavy sigh and then glanced up at her papa, apparently awaiting either permission, or for him to speak about her time at the school.

  "It was long," she said at length, her face becoming slightly crestfallen upon thinking about her stay at the school, "but I am glad to be home with Papa Francis."

  "Had you two been acquainted with one another prior to her enrollment?" Theo had an inquisitive mind and did not seem to stop asking questions until he felt satisfied.

  "Yes, we were betrothed when Leda was a young child. I insisted upon her admission into Ashby to ensure both of our happiness."

  "I can see you are pleased with that decision. After seeing the two of you together, my conviction that this is the right path for me is even more clear," Theo said.

  "You are prepared for what it takes to be a papa?" Francis asked. "Have you really done your research on having a little of your own?"

  Theo nodded. "I am a very powerful and wealthy man, Francis. There is not much I want for that I cannot just take or buy. But this is different. I want a wife who will give her most innocent self to me. One who can trust in me, as I will work every day of my life to prove that she can do so. The moment I heard of the Ashby Chateau, I knew this is what I had always been looking for and needed to feel complete." He took a sip of his tea, surprised that he had opened himself so freely to them. "For the first time in my life, I desire something I cannot acquire easily. I have to earn it. I do hope I can count on your recommendation so I, at least, have an oppo
rtunity to prove myself worthy."

  Francis kissed the top of Leda's head before stating, "Yes, I will send a letter by courier on your behalf, Theo. Please do tell me your surname again." He gestured for Leda to get up.

  She climbed off his lap and retrieved a piece of paper and pen.

  "Elliott," Theo said, and further spelled it out for him. "I appreciate your time and your help in this matter. If there is anything I can ever do for you, Mr. Marlowe, please do not be a stranger."

  "Of course," Francis said, nodding in agreement as both gentlemen stood and he walked Theo to the door. "I wish you well."

  Theo stepped outside and buttoned his coat, slipping his hands into his pockets until he reached the carriage, where his coachman had been waiting diligently for him.

  "Are you ready, sir?"

  "Yes," Theo said. "Take me back home at once." He had half a dozen women arriving before nightfall whom he was to interview. There was little chance any of them would satisfy him in the same way a young woman with an education from Ashby would. However, the letters by courier had been sent weeks ago and the appointments made with his housekeeper. He would sit with the young ladies, listen to their stories, and discover whether he could save on the tuition fees for choosing an elite gem from the chateau. His standards were high, and with Francis having agreed to send a letter directly to the headmaster, all he had to do was anticipate a response.

  Theo was not one to sit down and idly await news from Mr. Hartley. He needed to feel as if he had the power to do something, to discover his own happiness, however difficult or challenging it might prove. There had to be a young woman out there who desired the same as he did, who would not consider his behavior deviant or crass. He wanted her acceptance, willingness to participate, and devotion entirely to him. Was it too much to ask for?