by Bella Bryce
Chapter Six
“Elisabeth,” Bennett said, in that tone.
Her hands were folded loosely in front of her and she looked up at him with eyes that clearly communicated that she was fully aware of what was about to happen. She’d been to his study plenty of times in the two weeks prior, as his charge, to know a line had just been drawn.
Bennett signalled with his index finger for her to follow him as he walked over to the fireplace seating area. “Retrieve that ottoman and sit on it right here,” Bennett directed.
Elisabeth turned to look at the very ottoman he’d referred to. It wasn’t an ottoman at all; it was a stool. For a mouse. It was tiny. Elisabeth was petite, but even she would feel ridiculous sitting on something so low to the ground. It was a miniature tufted leather ottoman with four smart wooden carved legs that were only about an inch off the ground. She placed it at Bennett’s feet and sat upon it feeling just as silly as she thought she would. She was sure she looked silly too, although she was the only one who thought so. Bennett thought she looked adorable on the tiny ottoman with her tiny knees pushed together and her arms resting on her thighs. Elisabeth looked up, noticing that his knees were the best view from where she was.
“Before I take you home, I need to address your comment just after dinner,” he started.
Elisabeth looked up at him and pressed her lips together as she listened. She knew exactly what he was taking about.
“Things like how you wish to... throw yourself at me,” Bennett said, clearing his throat.
Elisabeth pulled her lips in and maintained a straight face. “I was just being honest, Sir,” Elisabeth said, on the verge of cracking.
“Elisabeth Grace Warner,” Bennett said, as though she were his child and she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. “After the lovely day we’ve had and all the conversation about boundaries, you managed to let your mind take your mouth to a place that is going to put your backside straight across my knee.” He signalled with his index finger for her to stand up.
Elisabeth obeyed, albeit feeling as though she might laugh at any moment. Bennett’s seriousness didn’t put her off the way it seemed to do for other people, it amused her because she was being corrected for verbalising her internal giddiness.
“Whilst I appreciate your... attraction, if I can call it that, to my leading, you must curb those comments. You are a young lady and I don’t ever want to hear you speak about your affections with such vulgarity again.”
Elisabeth’s face turned more solemn. Bennett wasn’t messing about.
“It is not easy for me to spend time with you and have to stand back from the boundary. Don’t make it more difficult by making remarks when they are not in the least appropriate. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied quietly.
“Right, now over you go,” he said, and pulled her by the hips straight across his lap, then lifted her grey pinafore and pulled down her tights and knickers.
Elisabeth’s legs floated in the air and her hands rested against the side of Bennett’s thigh. He pulled his arm back and immediately began to smack her bottom, causing it to turn pink after only a few swats.
“Owie! You’re smacking harder now that we’re courting,” Elisabeth whined.
“I am not. I’m smacking exactly as I did before,” he said, carrying on with the punishment.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” she mumbled.
“You’re not to speak whilst you’re being punished.” Bennett paused and looked down at her.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
He usually gave Elisabeth fifty smacks because Alice usually received, at most, twenty-five. Elisabeth was older and she deserved more, although Bennett always made the punishment fit the crime. He would never go straight to the highest number just because that was his maximum at that point for Elisabeth, although, for repeat offenses, it usually defaulted to that.
“This will be the last time I have to correct you for using sensual language before we’re married, do you understand?” Bennett said, his long and lean stature still holding Elisabeth securely over his knee. “And in no instance will you ever throw yourself at me. I will put you where you need to be in order to get that satisfaction.”
Elisabeth snorted and managed a chuckle as she stared at the wooden floorboards of Bennett’s study.
“That is not funny, young lady,” he replied, without a hint of amusement. “You can have another lot for that,” Bennett added, as he immediately restarted a rain of hard, deliberate blows.
“Yes, Sir,” Elisabeth managed, her pain tolerance fully weakened within a few seconds and her chuckle quickly turned to whimpering.
After he had finished, Bennett replaced her knickers and tights, pulled her pinafore down and then walked her to the corner next to his fireplace.
“Put your hands on your head,” he said, from right behind her.
Elisabeth looked up in hesitation, but a simple raised eyebrow from Bennett encouraged her to obey. It was understood that only children folded their hands on their head when facing the wall – children like Alice. Elisabeth usually stood with her hands behind her back. Clearly, Bennett was trying to make a point.
“Stand up straight. Not a word,” Bennett told her.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, softly.
Bennett sat behind his rather Headmaster-like desk and opened a book with a look at his watch. He watched Elisabeth for a moment and then made intermittent glances up at her in between reading. She stood quietly facing the corner, taking note of how many lines were part of the wood-panelled wall design. Her backside felt like it had its own heartbeat as she regulated her breathing from the crying that had finally subsided. She thoroughly enjoyed Bennett’s strict demeanour and she loved the threat of going over his knee, but when it actually came to facing the floor and having to take it, she wasn’t as keen.
“Elisabeth.” His voice sounded out of nowhere and nearly caused her to jump.
She closed her eyes momentarily before turning and shyly approaching where he stood in front of the desk with his arms folded across his suit.
“Sir,” she practically whispered, to acknowledge she’d been called to him.
“I’ve made it very, very clear how I feel about your language, young lady, so I won’t carry on. Although, I would like to hear what you might have to say on the matter.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Elisabeth’s eyes slid down to his waistcoat, which was visible between his long arms as they were folded across his chest. She was melting again, but she obviously wouldn’t tell him that. In fact, she very much began to regret thinking such dramatically sensual things when she realised how extreme her thoughts could go. She looked down at the ground for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she started softly. Elisabeth finally looked up at him after thinking through the words she wanted to say. “You’ve never spoken to me in a way that makes me feel as though I were just something to pursue. I’m sorry I said something that wasn’t entirely appreciative of my affections toward you.” Her words were humble and tentative. She truly felt those words, but it was never easy to admit to being wrong or naughty. For anyone.
“Thank you,” Bennett nodded. He then signalled for her to approach and put his hands on her shoulders as she looked up at him. “It isn’t that you can’t or won’t feel those things, it’s that we should regard each other properly in our words to keep us mindful of our boundaries.”
Elisabeth nodded. She knew what he was saying and it made complete sense; she’d just never heard it before, especially not from any man.
“And I don’t like hearing you speak that way,” Bennett said, as he put one hand on her cheek and looked down at her with a rather paternal expression.
“Sir,” she whispered, nodding.
“Run along and retrieve your phone. It’s time to take you home,” he said, removing his hand.
Bennett wanted to kiss Elisabeth, but he didn’t want to talk about
blurring lines and then kiss her straight after a serious punishment, which meant he wouldn’t engage in kissing her until they were out of the study.
Arriving back at Waldorf Manor felt like arriving home to Elisabeth. As Bennett walked her into the foyer, Brayden was there waiting to greet them. He had a very natural, paternal presence, which made Elisabeth feel even more like she was home. She had only known him briefly, but when she heard his fatherly voice and felt his warm greeting that evening, it settled a part of her soul, which seemed to be adrift.
“Welcome home, darling,” Brayden said, as he kissed her.
Bennett and Brayden shook hands.
“Look what Bennett gave me,” she said, producing the iPhone from her pocket as Wellesley appeared to take her coat.
“I know,” he smiled.
“And she knows she’s not to be on it after bedtime,” Bennett said, raising his eyebrows.
Elisabeth blushed and looked back at Brayden. She did indeed know and she loved the reminder.
“Are you staying, Bennett? Alice will finish with her practise in a moment and we were going to have tea,” Brayden told them.
Bennett obliged and let Wellesley take his coat after Elisabeth’s. He certainly wasn’t going to turn around and let his driver take him back to Barton-Court House straightaway if there was a chance he could spend a bit more time with Elisabeth.
They walked behind Brayden into the adjacent sitting room and settled on opposite tufted sofas framed in carved wood. A tall table with intricate details climbing up each leg separated the two sofas.
“Oh, hello,” Alice said, rather casually, when she appeared and saw Elisabeth and Bennett.
Alice went to her uncle first and kissed him on both cheeks. He was so tall that as he sat on the sofa, Alice was still shorter than him as she leant over to greet him. He reciprocated the greeting and watched as she moved to Elisabeth. Alice kissed her twice and then Elisabeth gave her a small cuddle, practically pulling Alice into her lap.
“Hello,” Elisabeth said, with her infamously beautiful smile as she let go of Alice. “I heard you playing piano just now, you sound really good.”
“Oh, thank you.” Alice smiled, not wanting to receive the compliment too easily. Alice was fully aware of how good her piano playing was after only seven months, but she knew Brayden would help her remember humility if she let it get to her head.
Alice walked around the table, past Brayden’s knees and sat beside him on the sofa. He noticed a small part of her collar was hidden beneath her cardigan and straightened it.
After Wellesley poured the first cups of tea for everyone, he placed the tea things on the trolley nearby and left the sitting room. Alice sat quietly with her cup and saucer in her lap thinking about Brayden’s abrupt reaction to his birthday at dinner, and she couldn’t help but feel annoyed. She felt as though there was a little bit of tension still there and she didn’t like to feel as though she’d upset Brayden. Anyone but him.
Bennett noticed Alice’s pensive nature even though nobody else seemed to. He caught her eye and he nodded toward the chess table and wing chairs nearby.
Alice avoided eye contact with Brayden as she stood and walked to the nearby wooden chess table. Bennett claimed the wing chair opposite Alice and watched her glance across the sitting room at Elisabeth and Brayden, who had since started their own conversation. “You’re very quiet,” Bennett noted, glancing at Brayden.
Alice met his eyes. “I ruffled my father’s spirit at dinner.”
Bennett raised an eyebrow. “Did you ask him about your late grandparents?”
“Yup,” Alice replied, moving one of her pawns forward and elongating the word so as to make it clear just how ruffled Brayden’s spirit might be.
“Pardon?” Bennett asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Alice corrected herself. “Sorry, Uncle Bennett.”
He moved one of his pawns forward and then folded his hands across his waistcoat and blazer as he sat back in the wing chair. “What did you ask him?” Bennett inquired, after watching Alice’s eyes scan the board.
“Uncle Bennett, you don’t want to know. It wasn’t even a proper question, it was more of an interrogation.”
Alice stood up from the wing chair and reached toward her front line of pawns, then reconsidered and pulled her knight out. Bennett watched her consider several moves before she replaced the knight and settled on a pawn.
“Besides, he wouldn’t even answer me,” Alice added, as she folded one leg underneath her dress and sat atop it on the wing chair.
“Sit down properly, please,” Bennett told her, without looking up as his bishop claimed Alice’s knight.
“Argggggghhhh,” Alice moaned, as she pulled her leg out from beneath her. “Yes, Sir,” she added, when Bennett glanced up at her. “You always get my knight within five seconds of the game starting.”
“You always leave him unattended. Mind out for your key pieces and then mind out for that unladylike growling.”
Alice pushed her posture upward so she was slightly taller and could view the board. Her eyes jumped over the board before she put out her other knight. “Uncle Bennett?”
“Yes?” he asked, watching her.
“Why doesn’t Father have a ball for his birthday anymore?”
Bennett glanced across the room at Brayden and then back at his niece. “Perhaps that’s something you should ask him,” Bennett suggested, giving his niece a look.
“I tried. He got cross with me.”
Bennett continued to watch Alice. “Is this the ruffling of his spirit you referred to?”
“Yes, Sir,” Alice replied, as she took one of Bennett’s pawns and then gave him a smile. She looked especially sweet in her white scalloped collared button front shirt tucked beneath a houndstooth pleated skirt with matching braces, a mustard yellow bow at her collar and matching cardigan. A ribbon was tied off to one side where a handful of curls had been secured out of her face with the rest down her back and across her shoulders.
He straightened one of Alice’s pawns so that it was directly in the centre of the black square.
“I’ve tried to understand but he won’t tell me. You know him better than anyone,” she continued, a pleading look appearing across her face.
Bennett couldn’t resist glancing over at Brayden again; he and Elisabeth were engrossed in conversation. He looked down.
“Your father stopped having them the year his parents died,” Bennett told her.
“Was it because he was sad?” she pressed.
“Has your father not spoken of this with you at all?” Bennett asked quietly as he looked at her.
Alice sat back in the leather wing chair and shook her head, “No, and he said he would.” She was clearly disappointed.
Bennett tapped his thumbs together whilst his hands were folded. He was considering his words before he spoke them. “Your father’s poor parents were kidnapped the day of his twenty-sixthh birthday ball and never made it back to Waldorf. We carried on because nobody knew they were being held against their will,” he said.
Alice sat still against the wing chair and her face dropped; his factual reporting seemed to have shocked her. She gulped and quietly stared back at him.
“Why?” she whispered, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of her chest.
“Do you remember when I told you that wealth can be a burden?”
Alice didn’t say a word as she slowly nodded. Bennett stared back at her.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Her eyes visibly filling with tears.
“I don’t know, darling,” Bennett replied quietly.
Alice looked over at Brayden. “It’s not fair,” she whispered.
“It isn’t. Not in the least,” Bennett replied, glancing at the board and then back at his niece.
She frowned as she exhaled. “I can’t believe he never told me,” she quietly replied.
“Alice,” he started.
“I can’t,” she said, realising
she was about to cry. Alice mumbled an apology before abandoning the chess table and discretely exiting the sitting room.
Bennett rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment before walking to the nearest window and made a gap in the curtains in which to stand where he looked out across the darkness, which had fallen over the estate.
“Have you forgotten to finish the game? Where’s Alice?” Brayden asked, having come up behind Bennett at the window after a glance at the chessboard.
“How could you not have told her?” Bennett asked, as he turned to his best friend.
Brayden knew exactly what Bennett was referring to.
“She asked me,” Bennett added.
“What did you tell her?” Brayden inquired, taking a step closer.
“The truth of course.”
“You had no right to do that, Bennett,” Brayden said, putting his hands on his hips, internalising Bennett’s words.
“I had every right,” Bennett replied, turning fully to him. “Don’t get defensive with me,” he warned.
Brayden raised his eyebrows. “Right, I’m putting the girls to bed and then I want to speak with you,” Brayden said, giving his best friend the same kind of look he gave Alice when she was in trouble. “Say goodnight to Elisabeth,” he added, before turning away.
Bennett tightened his jaw and hid any kind of irritated feelings that he harboured, then went over to Elisabeth and kissed her cheek goodnight. It certainly wasn’t the kind of goodnight he wanted to leave her with, considering he’d been waiting since her punishment ended hours ago to hold her close and kiss her properly.
He watched Brayden and Elisabeth leave the sitting room and the doors closed behind them. Bennett wandered across the sitting room, his hands in his suit trouser pockets, until he claimed a leather club chair on the other side of the room near another roaring fire. Wellesley brought Bennett a brandy shortly after, and he sat with one leg crossed over the other, his thumb and forefinger propping up his protruding jawline.
