Pretty Little Rose

by Lucy Wild

  A week after he accepted Mrs. Smethwick’s offer, he finally got away form Margaret long enough to sit alone for a spell. He sank into an armchair a little after ten at night, picking up the newspaper and opening it to find the announcement of his engagement staring back at him on the society page.

  Mrs. Smethwick, widow, is pleased to announce the engagement of her daughter, Margaret Joan, to Mr. Titus Burlingham Esq. Date to be set.

  His eyes moved down the paper, widening in shock as he saw the next announcement.

  The wedding of Jonathan Carlisle Esq. and Rose Amelia Winter is to be held at the Church of St. Peter, on the fifteenth of this month.

  Throwing down the paper, he leapt to his feet. It was no good. He had to see her. The fifteenth was a mere fortnight away. He might not get another chance. He had to at least speak to her whilst she was at home, not living with the cad. Leaving the front door hanging open, he marched out into the night without so much as stopping to grab his coat.

  Chapter 34

  Standing under Rose’s bedroom window, he looked up, glad to see the flickering glow of a candle up there. She was still awake then. He had thought about knocking on the door before dismissing the idea. He doubted Mr. and Mrs. Winter would welcome him with open arms. They were far more likely to throw him out onto the street or threaten to call for a constable.

  Reaching down, he picked up a handful of gravel, tossing it up at the window on the first floor. Last time she had opened that window, it was to climb down and run away with him. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. There was the flicker of the curtain but nothing else. He tossed up another handful, rewarded by the window swinging open a moment later.

  There she was, leaning out and looking as beautiful as ever. No, more beautiful. She needed no candle to light her, a glow shone from her soul and touched his heart, making him yearn for her so much it pained him deep inside. “What do you want?” she asked, barely concealed anger evident in her voice.

  “A minute of your time.”

  “Be quiet! Or do you want my parents to hear you?”

  “Please, a minute of your time and then I’ll be gone forever.”

  “Very well,” Rose sighed, climbing out of the window and skilfully lowering herself down the drainpipe. She reached the ground a few seconds later, looking at him with her arms folded. “Well, what is it?”

  “I read that a date had been set for your wedding to Mr. Carlisle.”

  “It has, what business is it of yours?”

  “I…I hope you will be happy in your marriage to him.”

  “I am sure I will.”

  A silence fell between them. Titus ached to take her in his arms, to kiss her forehead, to look after her forever, to take care of her for the rest of his life. Instead he rubbed his lip with his finger and then crushed his hands together behind his back, doing his best to keep his emotions under control. She looked so cold, had she lost all feelings for him? Was this a mistake?

  Rose blinked, her mouth opening as if she were about to say something. She then shook her head, blinked again, before saying, “I am led to understand that you are also engaged.”

  “I am.”

  “To the Smethwick girl?”

  “To her.”

  “She is just your type, a lovely mature woman by all accounts.”

  “She is.” Titus sighed, unable to contain himself any longer. “I must confess; I do not want a mature woman for a wife. I want a pretty little Rose.”

  “You probably said the same thing to your last wife. And you’ll no doubt say the same to your next.”

  “I do not have a wife.”

  “Don’t continue to lie to me. You forget I saw the ring with my own eyes. Or do you deny it?”

  “Yes, that was my wedding ring.”

  “I knew it.”

  “And yes I was married.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She was called Emily. It is not easy to talk about her. We were wed when I was twenty and she eighteen. She did not see her twenty-first birthday.” Titus paused, taking a deep breath, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “She died in childbirth and in one moment I lost wife, child, and family. And do you know what hurt the most?”

  She didn’t respond, her hand over her mouth in shock at his confession.

  “It was not even my child. It was Thaddeus’s. My wife had been sleeping with my brother and I only found out after she had died. That is why I have a wedding ring in my possession, a reminder of the woman I loved despite what she did. That is also why I no longer speak to my brother. I vowed never to love again after I found out the truth. It was a vow I kept for more than ten years. But then I met you and my vow counted for nothing. And now you know and I shall leave you to your happy marriage. My blessings on you both.”

  “Titus,” Rose said as he turned away, her hand falling on his shoulder. “Papa.”

  He froze in place, his breath catching in his chest as she moved round him, standing facing him, her hands slipping into his. “Yes, Rose?”

  “I am sorry.”

  “As am I. I know I should have told you the truth when we first met but I was afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “Afraid of revealing my past, of admitting I had loved before, that I had been mocked and taken for a fool by my own brother. Afraid that you might not love me if you knew the truth.”

  She squeezed his hands in hers. “I have never stopped loving you.”

  “You…you haven’t?”

  “Not for a second.”

  “But you are engaged to another man.”

  Rose smiled. “Guess what I have on under my dress?”

  “What? What sort of question is that?”

  “Come on, guess.”

  “I don’t know. Must you play such confounded parlour games now? I have just poured out my soul to you.”

  “And I am doing the same, in a manner of speaking. Come on, have a feel if you need a clue.”

  She lifted the hem of her dress and brought Titus’s hand under it. He frowned as he felt the edge of a rough cloth, a towelling cloth of some sort. “What is that? Is that a nappy?”

  She nodded. “It is.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  “It means that Mr. Carlisle has no interest in me being little so I have been doing it in secret.”

  “My little Rose,” Titus said, smiling broadly. “Full of surprises.”

  “My Papa,” she replied, reaching up and kissing him lightly. “I have missed you.”

  “Rose!” A woman’s voice, shouting from inside the house.

  “That’s Mother,” Rose said in a panic, shimmying straight up the drainpipe. “You must go.”

  “But will I see you again?”

  “Yes, but not yet. Wait until I send for you. I will write to your office. Goodnight, Papa. Remember, your little Rose loves you.”

  Chapter 35

  The next week was the longest in Titus’s life. By the time the letter from Rose finally reached him, he felt as if he had aged ten years. The letter was from Mr. Winter, a single line inviting him to attend at their house at his earliest convenience.

  “It’s finally come then,” Mrs. Cartwright said as he buttoned up his coat. “I’m glad. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all this week.”

  “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Cartwright,” he replied, already halfway out the door.

  “She better be worth it.”

  “She is,” he said with a smile, setting off at a march. It was just his luck that no hansom cabs were to be seen anywhere, forcing him to walk the distance to Rose’s house. The journey seemed to last days, if not weeks, yet his pocket watch told him it was only a little after two in the afternoon when he arrived on her doorstop.

  He took a deep breath before ringing the bell, a niggling thought in his mind that this was some kind of elaborate joke on their part, designed to crush him completely. Stop thinking that way, he told himself as footsteps echoed from wit
hin the house. Stop it.

  The door opened and he was brought inside by a maid. “The master is expecting you,” she said. “This way.”

  Titus followed her into the drawing room, the scene of his previous disgrace. Sitting in the same chairs as last time were Mr. and Mrs. Winter. “Good afternoon,” Mr. Winter said, rising slightly before returning to his seat. “Won’t you sit down?”

  “Thank you.”

  “We are glad you were able to come so swiftly,” Mrs. Winter said. “We have much to discuss.”

  “If you don’t mind, dear, I will handle this.”

  “Well be sure to apologise.”

  “I was just about to.”

  Titus coughed politely. “You were going to apologise? Might I ask what for?”

  “I have no doubt you will recall the manner of your departure last time,” Mr. Winter said, looking to his wife for approval. She nodded back at him.

  “I believe you told me I was a failure.”

  “We did and for that I apologise wholeheartedly.”

  “Might I ask why the change of heart?”

  “Rose came to see us a week ago and she spoke to us in a way I had never expected.”

  “What way was that?”

  “She was mature, adult, and responsible. Frankly, it came as something of a shock. She explained to us that she was having second thoughts about marrying Mr. Carlisle. She had heard the most unseemly rumours about him and she insisted that we investigate. This we did and the engagement was ended forthwith. Please, do not ask me to detail my investigations for I have no wish to relive them.”

  Titus could guess what happened. It would not take much digging to find out that the fiancé of their daughter was gallivanting with all and sundry, his betrothal doing nothing to assuage his lust for as many partners as he could lay his hands on.

  “That explains why he ran off with Margaret Smethwick two days ago,” he said, watching the shocked expression appear on Mr. Winter’s face. “Didn’t you hear about that? I have proven myself a failure with two students in a row. The first would not grow up, the second grew up so fast, she was off with a man before her mother even knew what was happening. I thought you would have heard about it by now.”

  “No, we have not heard about it. Mr. Carlisle has eloped with your fiancée?”

  “I believe he may have done it as an act of revenge.”

  “Revenge for what?”

  “Well, if I understand it right, the engagement was cancelled, Mr. Carlisle will have assumed I was somehow the cause of the cancellation, or perhaps Rose told him so. He will have sought revenge against me. Taking my fiancée was his last hoorah.”

  “But you are smiling, Mr. Burlingham, care to explain why?”

  “I love your daughter. I have loved your daughter from the moment I set eyes on her. I have never stopped loving her since that day. Mr. Carlisle and the future Mrs. Carlisle will be very happy together, is that not enough to make a man smile?”

  “Ah, then I have something that will make your smile all the broader.”

  “You do?”

  “Rose wishes to marry you.”

  “She does, does she?”

  “Told us not two days ago. Begged us to write to you and invite you here so that we might find out your feelings about the matter. I believe you may have just given us all the answer we need to the question.”

  “What question might that be?”

  “Will you marry our daughter? I must warn you, she still has her moments. She can still argue and whine and throw tantrums. You will have your work cut out dealing with her childlike temperament.”

  “Oh, I think I should be able to deal with such things. After all, I have had plenty of practice.”

  “That’s settled then. I shall send for her at once.”

  “I’m already here.”

  Titus spun round in his chair, surprised and pleased in equal measure to see Rose standing in the doorway.

  “Eavesdropping yet again are you?” Mr. Winter asked. “Do you see what I mean about childish behaviour, Mr. Burlingham?”

  “That’s just little Rose being herself,” Titus replied. “How do you feel about getting married, little Rose?”

  “It is a funny thing,” she said, walking slowly towards him. “When I was to marry Jonathan, I was indifferent about the whole idea. But when I think about marrying you, I feel as if it’s the most wonderful idea in the whole wide world.”

  “Capital!” Mr. Winter said, turning and hugging his wife. “We have a wedding to plan, my dear. I wonder if we can just change the name on the invitations. What do you think?”

  Mrs. Winter gave him a playful shove. “I am jesting,” he said, breaking out into a loud roar of laughter. “Welcome to the family, Mr. Burlingham. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

  “He does,” Rose said, squeezing his hand with hers, reaching over to whisper in his ear. “You can start by changing my nappy, Papa.”

  Chapter 36

  Rose braced herself, holding her breath as Papa’s hand rose high in the air behind her. It had been a year since they had wed and yet she still seemed unable to come to grips with married life. “Must you continue to misbehave?” Papa asked, bringing his hand down to land firmly on her posterior.

  She let out a yelp as the familiar stinging sensation spread through her buttocks. “If misbehaving means you keep doing this, I shall continue to misbehave for the rest of my life.”

  “You really are an incorrigible little brat, aren’t you?”

  “You were ignoring me. I had to knock over that vase. I wanted some attention.”

  “I was choosing paint for the nursery as you well knew.”

  His hand smacked down on her bottom again and then he grabbed her, lifting her effortlessly to her feet. She tried to keep the grin from her face as she stared at him, seeing the lust in his eyes.

  “Spread your buttocks apart,” he said, reaching into the drawer beside him.

  Rose sighed with happiness. It had been such a long time since he had first used the plug on her. She remembered wondering if it could possibly fit, the pain of it pushing its way into her, the weight of it as she was made to keep it inside. She had wondered if the novelty would fade and it would gather dust in the back of a drawer somewhere.

  With her hands pulling her bottom wide open so he could slide it into her, she quickly calculated that it had been used about once a month since they were wed. It came out whenever she was particularly naughty and she was unable to resist being that naughty for very long at all.

  As the plug slid into her, she let out a groan, the familiar fullness and presence of the cold metal inside her making her core warm up in the way she knew so well.

  “Stand up and face the window.”

  She did as he asked, aware of how she must look to anyone passing by outside. A blindfold slipped over her eyes and then she was unable to see but she didn’t need to. Wearing nothing but a bow in her hair, she was facing onto the main thoroughfare of town. Countless people were out there. Any one of them had only to turn their heads and see her expression as behind her, the crop whipped through the air, landing almost directly on top of the plug.

  The sting made her mouth fall open and she barely had a chance to get used to the pain when a second blow struck. “You will learn,” Papa said, kissing the back of her neck softly before the crop struck her again a few seconds later. It fell onto her bottom a dozen times in total, her nerves on fire as from nowhere, his hands slid round her body to tug at her nipples.

  “Do not move,” he said, letting go a moment later. She waited in place, an ache building up deep inside her. She had no idea how much time passed but her legs had almost gone to sleep by the time he reappeared behind her. All the time she was frozen like a statue she was thinking about him, thinking about him entering her whilst all the world passed by outside.

  The blindfold was yanked off her eyes before she knew what was happening and then he was kissing the ba
ck of her neck, his hands sliding over the curves of her breasts. He was naked. When had he undressed? She could feel the stiffness of his member pressing against her lower back and she could resist him no longer. Turning and sinking to her knees, she took hold of his shaft, drawing it into her mouth, only too aware that they were both visible to the street outside.

  She didn’t care. All she cared about was gagging on his length, becoming his possession, letting him use her mouth the way he used her body, all for his pleasure. She sucked and licked at the length of him whilst staring up into his eyes, watching for the moment she knew was close, the moment when he could last no longer.

  As soon as she saw his expression change, she pulled back, rising to her feet. “You little tease,” he growled, grabbing her and bending her over. She took hold of the windowsill, feeling the tip of him slide straight into her wetness, his body pushing the plug deeper into her rear as he did so.

  “I am your little tease,” she gasped, filled in a second by the sheer bulk of him.

  “Are you happy?” he asked, pulling back and slamming into her a second time. “Are you happy, my little Rose?”

  “I am,” she replied, her voice almost failing her as he began to thrust into her as fast as he could. “Blissfully, perfectly, completely happy, Papa.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Lucy Wild

  Lucy Wild was born on the Yorkshire coast in England. Growing up surrounded by ruined Victorian splendour, she would spend every spare moment exploring, walking in the footsteps of the fair ladies and stern gentlemen who once roamed the very same promenades and alleyways as she, the crumbling buildings whispering countless stories of a romantic world long since vanished.

  As an adult, she never forgot those early daydreams, hoping to meet the right Victorian Master for the little she yearned to be, wanting to add her story to the others. After her heart was broken one too many times, she decided to throw herself instead into creating the world where she felt most at home, a world of starched collars and secret dalliances, a place where blushing brides were loved and spanked by their dominant husbands. In this way, she was able to write the happily ever afters she never had, bringing joy to her heart and pleasure to her readers in equal measure.