Jessica lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now go to the bathroom with Clara,” Henry calmly but firmly ordered. Shelley breathed a sigh of relief when Jessica nodded grimly, her pout growing, as she took Clara’s hand and obediently followed her.
“Have you ever gotten to three?” Shelley asked curiously. She had seen him employ this tactic on a few occasions, and Jessica had always obeyed him instantly. Henry smiled and shook his head. “No, she’s a good girl. Very occasionally I count to two, but she understands the warning and has never pushed me further. I hope she never does,” he added, squeezing Shelley’s hand.
“Right, go get dressed,” he told Shelley. “We need to go out and send a telegram to your parents.” Shelley swallowed nervously as she slowly got up. “Can’t you do it?” she asked, gasping when he raised a finger in the air and counted “one.” As Shelley gaped at him and stood frozen to the spot, he sighed and shook his head, raising a second finger. “Two,” he said calmly, rising from his chair. “Don’t make me get to three,” he warned, reaching out to take her hand.
Shelley blushed and shook her head. “I’ll be five minutes.” Pulling away from him, she rushed towards the stairs. She certainly had no intention of finding out what happened when he reached three. She was certain she would not like it one little bit.
* * *
Five minutes later, Shelley rejoined Henry and smiled when he insisted she wrap up well, despite it being mid-August. She felt absolutely fine, but was pleased that he clearly cared for her.
She clutched his hand as they left his house and she kept a tight grip on him all the way to the post office, where they were to send her telegram. Henry encouraged her to tell the clerk what she wanted to say, and after a few minutes she was handed a slip of paper with her typewritten message on it:
Dearest Mother and Father -(STOP)- I am so very, very sorry that I ran away from home -(STOP)- I fled Southampton aboard the Titanic -(STOP)- I am alive and well and living in New York -(STOP)- I did not get in touch because I feared you would have disowned me -(STOP)- I hope that is not the case -(STOP)- I love you both very much and I am truly sorry -(STOP)- Can you ever forgive me for the pain and embarrassment I have caused to you both? -(STOP)- Your loving daughter, Shelley x
Shelley read the message several times before handing it back to the clerk and nodding gratefully. “Can we wait for their reply?” she asked Henry anxiously.
Henry took her hand after he had paid the clerk. “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll come back later,” he said, smiling as he led her out into the fresh air. “It might take a little while.”
They walked around the city in silence, until finally they strolled into a nearby park where Henry sat down on a bench and pulled Shelley onto his lap. Holding her close, he whispered into her ear. “I’d like to hear about your family,” he urged, squeezing her hand encouragingly.
Shelley took a few deep breaths before looking into his eyes. She smiled when his warm eyes focused on her face, and his hand gently rubbed her back.
She was reluctant at first and took her time, talking about her life in Southampton, her parents, and her father’s business. She soon started to relax and Henry smiled as he listened intently. She let him know that she missed her parents and had thought about them every day since fleeing her home. She told him about Dexter and how he had always been there for her, and how much she missed him too.
When she started to talk about her planned wedding and how she had run away to escape it, she stopped and brushed away a tear. “Hush,” Henry consoled her, kissing her softly on the lips. “No more, not if it’s too painful to talk about.”
Shelley shook her head and continued with her tale. She blinked back tears when she willingly admitted to the painful spanking her mother had delivered, and how she had reacted angrily. She squirmed on Henry’s lap as she recalled the very painful punishment. “That’s why I was bruised the day I met you,” she admitted, heat rising in her cheeks as Henry smiled and nodded.
“Father threatened to strap me too. That’s another reason why I ran away. I guess I’m just a coward.” Shelley shrugged, hanging her head in shame.
“Shelley, you didn’t run away from a strapping,” Henry soothed, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “You ran away from a marriage you didn’t wish for. That makes you very brave, not cowardly.”
Shelley pulled away from his embrace, raised her head, and looked at him, confused. “I thought you were angry that I ran away from home?”
Henry smiled and shook his head. “No, I was angry that you didn’t feel able to confide in me. I expect you to always be truthful with me.”
Shelley nodded and kissed him on the cheek.
“Is Shelley your real name?”
Shelley nodded and smiled brightly. “Shelley Robertson-Bell, not Michelle Ellis.” She felt immense relief to finally be able to admit to her real identity, and explained how she came to be using Michelle Ellis’ identity.
Henry smiled. “Shelley’s a pretty name. It suits you.” Shelley blushed and smiled coyly at him. “And what’s your father’s name?”
“Lord Frederick Robertson-Bell,” she replied, frowning when Henry nodded, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.
“Come on, let’s get you back,” Henry said, helping Shelley to her feet. He rose from the bench, gripped her hand tightly, and led her away from the busy park. Shelley smiled as she looked around and noticed how many people were about. She had been totally oblivious to them as she sat on Henry’s lap and chattered away to him about her life back in England.
“Can we send another telegram, please?” she begged, clutching at his hand. “I need to tell Mother I’ve never hated her, not even for one second.”
Henry nodded and put his arm around her, leaning down to kiss her softly on the lips. Shelley held her breath, hardly able to believe that she had finally found true love.
As they walked, Henry told Shelley about his wife, who had died three years earlier in childbirth. He explained how, since her death, Jessica and his work had been his whole life.
“There’s been no one else. I thought there never would be,” he smiled, stopping to kiss Shelley again. Her heart soared when he pulled her into his arms and gave her a deep kiss, almost crushing her as he held against him.
“I’ve never looked at another woman since Jane,” he admitted, leaning back from their kiss, “but there’s something about you that makes me unable to resist.” Henry sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you,” Henry whispered, as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
Shelley’s face lit up with a huge smile, and she trembled when he stepped back, took her hand, and kissed it gently.
“I love you too,” she beamed, gripping his hand as he led her back to the post office.
* * *
When they reached the post office, Shelley rushed up to the counter. “I need to send another message to my parents,” she told the clerk. The woman smiled. “They’ve replied to your previous message,” she told Shelley, handing a slip of paper to her. Shelley held it with trembling hands and slowly turned to Henry. “Will you read it to me, please?” she whispered, closing her eyes and holding it out to him, praying that her parents were happy to hear from her. She crossed the fingers of her left hand behind her back, as Henry took her right hand and squeezed it encouragingly.
“Dearest Shelley,” he started, and Shelley’s face immediately broke into a grin. She snatched the telegram from him and sat down. They do still care, she thought, tears blurring her vision as she held the piece of paper out in front of her and scanned quickly over the words:
Dearest Shelley -(STOP)- I cannot begin to describe the relief your mother and I feel -(STOP)- We are delighted that you are alive -(STOP)- We forgive you without question -(STOP)- We love and miss you -(STOP)- Please return home immediately -(STOP)- I’m sorry I tried to force you into a marriage that was not right for you -(STOP)- Forgive me -(STOP)- Your loving fathe
r
“They want me to go home,” Shelley said excitedly. Henry smiled and nodded. “That’s good,” he said quietly, sitting down when she returned to the counter.
“Can you send a reply, please?” she asked the clerk, who immediately prepared to take down her message. “Dearest Mother,” Shelley began. “I’ve loved you always. I never hated you. I’m sorry I said that I did. Tell Daddy I’m going to pack immediately. I’ll be home as soon as possible.”
Henry approached the counter and paid for the message to be sent, and Shelley wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she smiled.
* * *
During dinner that night, Shelley talked almost non-stop about how she was going to be reunited with her parents. Shelley noticed that Henry was unusually quiet, but Clara made up for it as she enthusiastically asked when Shelley would see her family again, if she was going to go home, and if she would ultimately come back to New York or stay in England. Shelley shrugged her shoulders, looking to Henry for guidance, but he lowered his head and said nothing.
“Right, that’s enough for one day,” Henry said, interrupting Shelley as she told Clara about her home town. “It’s time you were in bed.”
Shelley scowled at him and looked at the large grandfather clock that stood tall against the wall. As she looked at the pointers, the clock chimed eight times. “But it’s only early,” she protested, scowling at Henry. He turned to face her and held up a finger. “One,” he said firmly. Shelley paled as she rose to her feet and nodded.
Quickly heading upstairs, Shelley washed and changed into her nightclothes. As she was climbing into bed, frowning as she felt it was way too early to be going to sleep, there was a knock at her door and she pouted when Henry entered the room. He raised his eyebrows as he walked towards her and held two fingers up. “Two,” he announced, taking her hand and pulling her up onto her feet. Sitting down on her bed, he tipped her across his lap.
“No,” she protested, “I haven’t been naughty. I came to bed when you said, even though it is really early,” she complained, squirming in frustration.
“I agree, you have been a very good girl,” Henry told her, whisking her nightdress up. “Let’s just keep it that way. The doctor left a suppository for you. It’ll help you to go to the toilet again. You were a bit blocked up this morning, which could account for your raised temperature, and one enema wasn’t really sufficient. I just need to slip this into your bottom,” he told her casually, taking a firm grip on the waistband of her bloomers and tugging them downwards.
“Oh, no,” groaned Shelley, squirming when he pressed a lubricated finger into her resisting bottom hole. She blushed as his finger moved in and out, lubricating her thoroughly. When he eventually removed his finger, he immediately pressed a small, bullet-shaped tablet into her tight pucker. Shelley clenched her buttocks and writhed around on his lap in an attempt to prevent Henry inserting the medicine, fearful of it having the same effect as the enema had earlier.
Slapping her bottom sharply, he fumed, “Any more nonsense and I’ll count three. I’m sure you don’t want another spanking so soon.” Shelley shook her head and vowed to stay still, wincing when he pushed the suppository into her rectum, at the same time caressing her back gently as he encouraged her to relax. “I’m trying to,” Shelley retorted, balling her fists and chewing on her knuckles. She groaned when he added a second finger and pushed the medication deeper, breathing a sigh of relief when he eventually removed his fingers from her anus, patted her butt, and lifted her to her feet. Smiling, he pulled her bloomers up and helped her into bed.
“Good girl. Now get some sleep, you’ve had a very tiring day,” he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her goodnight.
“What about the tablet?” Shelley asked, wide-eyed. “Don’t I need to go to the toilet?”
“It works slowly, overnight,” Henry explained, brushing her hair away from her face, and softly kissing her lips. “Be a good girl and try to hold onto it until morning.”
Shelley nodded and visibly relaxed. Closing her eyes, she let out a deep sigh. She was so happy that she would be seeing her parents, hopefully very soon, but the thought of leaving Henry was unbearable. She couldn’t believe that when she had finally found love, it was going to be cruelly snatched away from her.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning Shelley jumped out of bed and immediately dashed to the toilet. She was shocked that the small suppository had done almost as thorough a job of cleaning her out as the enema had. She felt much better and returned to her room, prepared to start packing.
Clara begged her to reconsider when she told her she was definitely leaving and was unsure if she would return, and the pair hugged, kissed, and shed a few tears together.
“I have to go, but we can write to each other,” Shelley promised her friend, smiling brightly when Clara nodded in response.
“What about Henry?” Clara asked.
Shelley shrugged. “What about him? He’ll find another maid easily enough. In fact, he didn’t really need me here. You can do everything that I do, and still have time to look after Jessica.”
Clara nodded and frowned at Shelley. “You’re probably right, but I didn’t mean the job. You told me when we first met that you wanted to marry for love. You’ve found love and now you’re running away from it. I just don’t understand you.” Clara sighed as her eyes narrowed in disapproval.
Shelley turned away and shook her head sadly. “Henry doesn’t mind that I’m going home. He hasn’t tried to stop me.” Her voice was almost a whisper and she bit down on her lip, desperately trying to hold back her tears. Although Henry had been very kind to her, she had fallen head over heels in love with him and it hurt that he clearly didn’t feel the same way, despite what he had said. He would never let me leave if he truly did love me, she thought sadly, blinking back tears as she pulled out a case and started to pack.
* * *
Clara shook her head, watching Shelley tremble as she packed her belongings into the case. “I need to get on with my work, I’ll see you later,” Clara said, walking out of their bedroom and immediately running into Henry.
Henry turned away quickly, trying to compose himself. He was embarrassed that Clara had discovered him trying to listen at the doorway, and even more ashamed that she had caught him so off guard. He could not believe that Shelley was being so blasé about leaving.
Taking a deep breath, Henry started to walk away. It was his house and if he wanted to listen at doorways, he would. He did not have to answer to his child’s nanny, he reasoned, and he completely ignored Clara as he set off along the corridor.
Clara chased after him and gripped his hand. “For goodness sake, stop being such a fool,” she yelled. Henry stopped and whirled round to face Clara, his mouth hanging open in shock. He had never once heard her raise her voice in temper. His eyes widened as she folded her arms across her ample chest and glared at him. This behaviour was so out of character, Henry stared at her in stunned silence.
“You’re both idiots, the pair of you,” Clara fumed. “Shelley doesn’t want to leave. She wants to see her parents, obviously, but not at the expense of losing you. She’s just too foolish and stubborn to tell you.”
Clara glared at him, sighed, shook her head in exasperation and walked away, leaving Henry standing open-mouthed, shocked that his daughter’s normally demure nanny had spoken to him in such a way.
“I should tan your insolent hide for speaking to me with such disrespect,” he shouted after Clara, as she disappeared down the stairs. Breathing deeply, he shrugged his shoulders and decided to let her off this once. She was normally a good girl, and he guessed he probably needed to hear what she’d had to say.
Looking towards the girls’ bedroom door, Henry took a deep breath and slowly moved towards it. Maybe Clara had a point. Putting his trembling hand on the door handle, Henry closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Seconds later he pulled his hand away. Shelley must have heard C
lara shouting and she hadn’t come out. She must have heard what Clara said, but still she stayed in her room and continued to pack. That surely told him all he needed to know. Hanging his head in dismay, Henry strode to his office, locked himself inside, and sat deep in thought.
Henry spent most of the morning staring at the walls of his office. He refused to open the door when his butler knocked several times. Eventually fed up of feeling sorry for himself, and in need of some fresh air, he left the house and returned to the post office.
“I want to send a telegram to Lord Frederick Robertson-Bell at that address, please,” he said, composing a brief message, informing Lord Frederick that he had fallen in love with his daughter and wished to ask for her hand in marriage. He reminded him that they had met a few years earlier during one of his business trips to England. He smiled, recalling Shelley telling him her father’s name and his realisation that he knew him. What a small world, thought Henry.
The clerk smiled sympathetically at Henry as she prepared and sent his message. Checking his pocket watch, he told her that he would go for a short walk and return later. Henry paced backwards and forwards, frantically awaiting a response. He returned several times to the post office, and the clerk shook her head each time.
Despondently, Henry walked down the street to a florist’s shop and bought some red roses, his late wife Jane’s favourites, ironically Shelley’s favourites too, he thought, as a smile only just touched the corners of his mouth.
The Delinquent Bride Page 13
