Pretty Little Rose

by Lucy Wild

  Chapter 31

  Titus was looking forward to getting home to see his little Rose. He had arrived at the Smethwick house after an hour’s walk, finding Mrs. Smethwick waiting for him in the parlour. What followed had been a tiring day of getting to know someone he had absolutely no interest in.

  He had done his best to appear interested as well, listening to Margaret’s faults, the things that needed changing about her. “She is far too immature for her age,” Mrs. Smethwick said. “I do hope you are able to do something about that.”

  “I shall do my best,” Titus replied. “Though perhaps I should meet her?”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Smethwick rang a bell, waiting until a maid appeared in the doorway of the parlour. “Go and fetch Margaret, would you.”

  Titus was taken aback by the sight of the woman who appeared in the parlour a few minutes later. She was stunningly beautiful, almost intimidatingly so. “How do you do?” he said, rising from his seat to greet her.

  “You smell,” she replied, the words bizarrely incongruous to how sophisticated she looked. “I don’t like you.” She stuck her tongue out at him before spinning on her heels and walking away.

  “Do you see the trouble?” Mrs. Smethwick asked. “I always thought a good spanking was what she needed but her father, God rest his soul, wouldn’t have any of that. Would you be willing to try it?”

  “Amongst other methods, yes.”

  “Would you be able to start at once?”

  “I will go and speak to her if you wish.”

  “Please, I would be beholden to you.”

  Titus stood up, nodding to Mrs. Smethwick before following after Margaret. She was already halfway up the stairs and by the time he caught up with her, she had reached her bedroom. “You can’t come in here,” she said, going to push the door closed.

  “That’s what you think,” Titus replied, shoving the door open with his shoulder before grabbing hold of her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Something that should have been done years ago by the sounds of it.”

  “Hey, let go of me. Mother! Make him stop.”

  “Hush your grumbling, no one is coming to stop this.” He spun her round, pressing into her back with his left hand, forcing her against the dressing table. Reaching down with his right hand, he yanked up her dress, revealing her slender legs to his gaze.

  “Stop that, let go of me.”

  “I will when I am finished with you.” He reached her waist, yanking her knickers down to reveal a smooth and well rounded posterior. It was almost a shame to spank her. He raised his hand, ready to bring it down on that perfect flesh when an image flashed into his mind. It was Rose and suddenly he couldn’t do it.

  He loosened his grip on Margaret, spinning away from her and almost running from the room. “I have to go,” he mumbled, sprinting downstairs and straight out of the door. He ran for the street, not stopping until he was far from the house. His body and mind were in turmoil. The sight of her had made him want Rose more but if he went home now, he would have to admit he failed.

  He walked the streets for hours, finally heading for home as the sun set. The sight of Margaret’s bare bottom had made him want to enter her, a thought he could not countenance. He dared not trust himself to return to that house. He could not do it to Rose, the love of his life. She was far more important than a job, than anything.

  The moment he arrived home, he needed her, he needed to be inside her. He took one look at Rose as he entered and something took over him, an animal lust that twisted his brain into an uncontrollable rage. He grabbed her before she could speak. “I must have you,” he growled, dragging her through to the bedroom.

  “You will never have me again,” she replied, twisting out of his grip.

  “What? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “This,” she shouted, pointing at the writing desk.

  “What? What is it?” His eyes moved to where she was pointing. It was an empty desk. His heart sank as he realised it wasn’t an empty desk. There was a ring there. A wedding ring.

  “You went through my things.”

  “That is all you have to say? You don’t want to explain what on earth that is?”

  “Why did you go through my private things?”

  “I thought it would be helpful if I unpacked for you. Is that all that matters to you?”

  “I did not give you permission to go through my things.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Who is who?”

  “Your wife, is it that Margaret woman? If that how you found a job so easily?”

  “You think it was easy. I have spent over a week searching for work to support you!”

  “I didn’t ask you to support me.”

  “No, but you asked me to love you.”

  “It is too late for that.”

  “Too late to tell you I love you.”

  “Words don’t mean anything to you, do they? I bet you said it to her at the altar didn’t you?”

  He took a step towards her but her eyes flashed a warning. He moved no further. “Listen, I can explain. Will you let me explain?”

  “I have no interest in listening to anything you have to say. I’m going home.”

  “Back to your parents?”

  “They may not be ideal but they have never lied to me, not like you. Go on, run off back to your fancy woman, see if I care.”

  “Rose, wait,” he said as she opened the front door. “Please, don’t go. Just listen to me. Don’t go.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Burlingham,” she replied, stepping outside and slamming the door closed after her.

  Titus sank onto the nearest chair. He knew he should run after her, make her listen. But what good would it do? She seemed to have already made up her mind about him. She clearly didn’t trust him and what relationship could possibly work without trust?

  He stood up, picking up the wedding ring a moment later. He looked at it closely. “I miss you, Emily,” he said quietly, kissing the ring before setting it back down. “I miss you so much.”

  Chapter 32

  Rose didn’t want to speak to her parents when she got home. All she wanted to do was go up to her room and hide away from the world. “Where on earth have you been?” her mother asked, coming out of the drawing room and looking in shock at the sight of her wild eyed daughter. “We’ve been worried sick. We’ve had people looking for you for days. Oh, Rose, you might have been killed.”

  “I am sorry, Mother,” Rose replied, putting out her arms and bursting into tears. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.”

  “Who? Jonathan?” Mrs. Winter embraced her daughter, holding her tight against her.

  “Mr. Burlingham. He’s a villain.”

  “Did he kidnap you? Should I speak to a constable? We could have him arrested.”

  “No, nothing like that,” Rose said, unable to continue as a bout of sobbing took over her. Only when it was under control could she speak again. “I am going to bed.”

  “Of course, dear. We had your fire lit every day, ready for you. I’m so glad you are safe, Rose.”

  “Good night, Mother.”

  She ascended the stairs quickly, not wanting her return to become an interrogation. Let them ask questions tomorrow, she wanted nothing to do with them tonight.

  In her room, she found the little frocks and nappies piled neatly in a corner. Shrieking with rage, she tossed them out of her window. “I want nothing to do with him,” she screamed into the night air. “It is time to grow up.”

  She tired herself out with her tears, they seemed to fall forever. With her stomach cramping, she climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over her head and wishing the whole world would disappear. She thought she would be up all night but she was asleep within minutes, a blissful escape from the pain she felt rocking her entire being.

  The next morning, she awoke to the sound of birds singing outside. It took her a moment to work out where she was and then it all ca
me flooding back to her. The fire had gone out and she had left the window open. Looking out of it she saw that the little frocks had gone, as had the nappies. All the evidence they had ever been there was gone. He was gone. It was time to start afresh. That meant one thing.

  At breakfast, she sat opposite her parents. “I wish to meet with Jonathan Carlisle,” she said after picking at her porridge with a spoon. Even with two spoonfuls of honey stirred in, it tasted bitter to her. “I want to apologise to him for how I behaved.”

  That will show Titus, she thought. Show him how little he matters to me. I will marry Jonathan, that will teach him to cross me. He’ll spend the rest of his life seeing how happy I am, how rich I am, whilst he sinks into penury. Good riddance to him.

  The meeting was arranged for a week later. She spent that week steadfastly refusing to think about Titus whilst he remained lurking in the back of her mind, ready to spring out whenever she let her guard down. He’ll soon fade away, she thought, once I am married, I doubt I will ever think about him again.

  When Jonathan came to the house, she dressed in her finest coat, her hair immaculate, a bonnet tied in place to counter the autumn wind that was just starting to appear, the first leaves falling from the trees as she strolled out with her new fiancé. They walked together to the park and Rose was just beginning to think that perhaps things were getting back to normal when she saw him.

  She screwed up her eyes and scowled. It was him. Titus was there, out walking as well. What was worse was that he was not alone. Who was that with him? “Let’s go this way,” she said, trying to twist Jonathan around.

  “Nonsense. I want to show you the rose bushes, they are quite something at this time of year.”

  Rose dug her heels in but it was no use. A minute later they reached the rose bushes at the same moment that Titus did. She stopped walking, glaring at him as he looked back at her in surprise. “Miss Winter,” he said after an ice age came and went. “Good afternoon.” He nodded. “Mr. Carlisle.”

  “Mr. Burlingham,” Jonathan replied. “Good afternoon.” Ice dripped from his words.

  “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce Margaret Smethwick.”

  “How do you do?” Jonathan said, taking Margaret’s offered hand. “This is my fiancée, Rose Winter.”

  “Fiancée?” Titus said, his eyebrows rising. “So you are to be married?”

  “Indeed we are,” Rose said, speaking for the first time. “We are very much in love.”

  “And you have come to the site of your first encounter. How romantic.”

  “What?” Jonathan blustered. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Titus said. He was clearly going to say something more but Rose could stand it no longer. Her hand whipped through the air, slapping Titus across the face, making Margaret gasp in shock.

  “We must be off,” Jonathan said after a long silence, Titus rubbing his face the entire time, looking amused rather than shocked.

  Rose spun on her heels, almost dragging Jonathan along behind her. She did not stop until they were in a secluded area of the park. Only then did she pause, turning to Jonathan. “I am sorry you had to see that.”

  “You slapped him. Care to explain why?”

  “I would rather not. Do you care that I slapped him?”

  “It was behaviour I would prefer not to see in such a fine woman.”

  “You are cross with me?”

  “A little.”

  A flicker of a smile crossed Rose’s lips. “Perhaps I should be punished for slapping him.”

  “Punished? What on earth do you mean?”

  “Well, you could discipline me if you like.”

  “What sort of discipline?”

  “Spank me maybe?”

  “Spank you? Why on earth would I want to spank you?”

  “Oh, never mind. Come on, let’s go home.”

  Her heart sank as they left the park. She wasn’t even sure why she had asked him to spank her. Was it a test to see how he would react? She wondered if maybe it weren’t the sight of Titus that had made her yearn for her bottom to be reddened by a firm hand. She had come away from her encounter both angry and confused, her body tingling despite her fury. By the time she had reached the secluded spot, she could keep quiet no more. And what had Jonathan done? He had crushed her desires as firmly as if they were a delicate flower that his boot had stamped down upon, destroying forever any hope she had that he might be the right man for her. But he was the man she had chosen. Titus was in the past. The sooner she forgot about him the better.

  That night she did her best to fix her mind on Jonathan. That smirk on Titus’s face as he almost mentioned that time so long ago that Jonathan had tried to persuade her to do something she didn’t want to. No, not persuade, force. But was that any different to what Titus had done, spanking her despite her requests that he stop, her battles to free herself from his hand?

  It was different, she realised. It was different because she had given Titus her consent. That was the difference. Jonathan had tried to take what she did not want to give. She had given it gladly to Titus. Still, Jonathan would not have to take anymore, she would give herself to him. Titus could go hang as far as she was concerned.

  She closed her eyes and did her best to sleep, that smirk on Titus’s face making it impossible for her to settle. How could he act so indifferent towards her? He didn’t seem to show any emotion at all when he saw her. Nothing was on his face but a mild surprise upon looking at the woman he had said he loved, the one he had called his little Rose. Good riddance to him, she thought. I will never think of him again.

  She went to sleep with Titus’s face looming before her, his lips moving towards hers, a final kiss that brushed her soul. A kiss she knew would never come.

  Chapter 33

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me. Won’t you sit down?”

  Titus took the chair opposite Mrs. Smethwick, his mind going back to the last time he had sat there. It had been his first day with Margaret, in what was supposed to be a short time away from Rose. But all that was in the past. She was engaged to that Carlisle rake, more fool her, and she was out of his life.

  “How are you this morning, Mrs. Smethwick?” he asked, doing his best to stop thinking about Rose. It’s been more than a month, he told himself. Time enough to put her out of his mind and move on.

  “Very well, thank you. In fact, I could not feel much better. I had a day out with Margaret yesterday.”

  “I know. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself in an empty house.”

  “You were probably glad of the peace. Anyway, I wanted to speak to you to give you my thanks for all you have done for her. In the time you have been her tutor, she has become a different person entirely. It is no longer like having an overgrown child around the house, it is wonderful, Mr. Burlingham, wonderful.”

  “I am glad you approve of my work.”

  “I more than approve, I admire you, sir. I don’t know what you’ve been doing with her all this time, but whatever it is, it has worked.”

  Titus thought of Margaret’s face the first time he spanked her. The look of shock in her eyes, the way she had responded to his punishment in the perfect manner, learning rapidly that it was better to grow up and behave than be spanked. So different to Rose. She never learned to grow up. She enjoyed being spanked, she enjoyed the touch of his hand. He felt nothing when he spanked Margaret, nothing at all.

  Mrs. Smethwick leaned forwards in her chair, lowering her voice as she did so. “I don’t mind telling you, I am sorry that our time together is at an end.”

  “As am I,” Titus replied, thinking silently, she made a reasonable distraction from my anguish.

  “I was wondering if you…well, I’m not quite sure how to put this, but I was wondering if I might ask you a question.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Smethwick, I am your humble servant.”

  “What do you think of Margaret?”

  “I th
ink she is a fine young woman.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I am not sure I know what you mean.”

  Mrs. Smethwick sighed. “There is no other way of putting it. I want to know if you would be interested in marrying her.”

  Titus was surprised. It had never occurred to him that Margaret saw him as anything other than a tutor. He was certain he had never given her any sign that he had feelings for her. He had hardly been able to concentrate on the job at all, his mind continuing to replay the end of his relationship with Rose every single day since it happened.

  “I do not know whether your silence is a good or bad sign. Pray, sir, tell me what you think of my suggestion.”

  “A moment, if you please,” he replied. He thought about that day in the park, seeing Rose with Jonathan, the look in her eyes when she slapped him. It wasn’t an angry look, nor a hate filled one, it was a pleading look, as if she wanted him to turn back the hands of time, allow them to be together once more. But what was done was done. She was getting married to another man.

  “I accept,” he said at last. “It would be my pleasure to marry your daughter.”

  “Excellent. I shall inform her of your decision tonight. Perhaps you might join us for dinner.”

  “I would be delighted.”

  He did not feel delighted by the prospect of eating with Margaret and her mother, excusing himself from their company mere minutes after the meal began. He could have sworn the air had been removed from the dining room leaving him fighting for breath outside the back door of the Smethwick house, looking out at the silent garden and wondering just how he had reached this situation. He was going to marry a woman he had no feelings towards whilst the love of his life was out there somewhere, planning a wedding to a cad and a bounder rolled up in the shape of a rake.

  The next few days were painful. Margaret insisted on spending every free moment with him, hinting in not too subtle a manner that he should kiss her now that they were engaged. He did his best to put her off, making the excuse that he deemed it improper to embrace before the wedding day. You will have to do it sooner or later, he told himself each night. She is probably doing far more than just kissing the cad after all.