Papa's Desires (Little Ladies of Talcott House, Book 2)

“When I found it, I knew it was your missing watch and I went looking for you, my lord, as I knew you would be happy for its return.”

“A likely story, my lord. She has this afternoon off. No doubt she had the watch with her so she could sell it. With all due respect to your generous reward, my lord, but the watch is worth more than that to a jeweler or moneylender.” Reynolds had assumed the role of prosecutor, judge and jury. “Besides,” the butler added, “you almost never use the drawing room, so if she claims to have found it there, how did it get into the room in the first place? It is not as though someone would be foolish enough to steal it and then hide it there.”

Cynny cringed. She had been that foolish. It was not until after she had stashed the watch in the drawing room that she realized it was seldom used. No wonder no one had found the watch.

“You make a good point, Reynolds. Until my marriage, I rarely entered the drawing room and the watch was missing before Lady Grayson and I wed.” Papa looked at Liza expectantly.

“No,” Liza stomped her foot in frustration. “I found it this morning, just as I said. I would never steal from you, Lord Grayson. Everyone knows you are the finest employer in the neighborhood. And the most just.”

“That is all well and good to say.” Papa tucked the watch into the pocket of his coat designated for a timepiece. A pocket meant to keep it safe from thieves. “But I am having a bit of trouble believing your story. The coincidence of you having the watch when you are about to have time off is certainly suspicious.”

Liza’s face fell and panic rose in Cynny. She had kept silent, hoping that Papa would believe Liza’s story, especially since it was the truth, and all would be well—except for the punishment awaiting her. Maybe the return of the watch would soften Papa’s determination, she thought hopefully.

“Sir, I beg of you. You must believe me. Please. I cannot lose this job. My family depends upon it. And without a reference, I will never find another.” There was panic in Liza’s eyes and Cynny felt the pain of it in her heart.

“Another job?” Reynolds said. “You will be at hard labor, not dusting the drawing room.”

Cynny gasped and the color drained from Liza’s face. “No,” the maid said in disbelief.

“Reynolds has been in my employ for many years,” Papa said. “I have no reason to doubt his words.”

Liza turned her gaze to Cynny. “Lady Grayson, surely you believe me.”

Cynny opened her mouth to reply but her mind went blank.

“Please do not play upon my wife’s sympathies, Liza,” Papa said in a firm tone. “That is the sort of thing a guilty person would do. I have decided. I believe you did steal the watch. Reynolds, please send for the constable and take Liza downstairs to await his arrival. I have urgent business to resolve with my wife and cannot be disturbed. Please inform the constable that I will make a written statement and have it delivered tomorrow for use in Liza’s prosecution.”

With a satisfied smile, Reynolds took Liza’s arm and dragged her down the hall, the maid’s pleas of innocence echoing off the walls.

Cynny watched the two servants, her mouth hanging open and pure dread spinning through her. What had she done? She could not allow an innocent person to take the blame for her horrible deed. It would likely lead to the end of her marriage and the thought crushed her, but how could she live with herself knowing she had ruined an innocent life? And not just Liza, but her family.

Any argument in support of the pocket watch randomly going missing in the drawing room would be pointless since Papa said he rarely went in there. How was Cynny to know that before she hid the watch? Based on that, Papa had reached the only logical, though incorrect, conclusion. It was all too horrible.

But, if she said nothing, Papa would never know. She could take her punishment for the letter and for leaving the naughty chair, all would be forgiven and she and Papa would live happily ever after.

She knew Papa’s limits. He could tolerate her naughty behavior, but he hated thieves. He would hate her.

Resolved to keep quiet, she lifted her foot to go with Papa, but her body would not move. She shook all over.

“Cynny,” Papa said, “whatever is the matter with you?”

“Papa,” she said, her voice cracking, “it was me. I-I stole your watch, not Liza. It was supposed to be a wedding present for Lord Kensington, but then I did not marry him and…” her voice trailed off, misery overwhelmed her.





Chapter 15





A thief. His beautiful wife was a thief. The irony of it was, she had told him that on their first meeting in the garden at Talcott House. She had been a pickpocket and thief, part of a vicious gang called The Weasels, she had said.

And he had laughed.

No one was laughing now.

Hyacinth had confessed all. Liza had been restored to her status as a respectable downstairs maid, given her reward for finding the watch and an additional morning off for her troubles.

If only the issue of his wife’s numerous transgressions could be resolved with so little trouble to himself.

With a sigh he surveyed the situation in his bedchamber. His sticky fingered wife lay upon the bed, naked. The plaits he had made in her hair that morning—which now seemed like an eternity ago— had nearly all come asunder and hung in hanks around her shoulders. Her sobs of remorse had ended, though she still reeked of despair and self-loathing. He did not enjoy it, but could not deny it was appropriate.

He had allowed her to wear herself out with crying. For one, he needed the respite in order to determine an appropriate punishment. For another, he needed to get his emotions under control. The girl had a good, hard strapping coming and he dared not allow his anger and disappointment to get the better of him.

Resolved, he finished his drink and set the empty glass next to the decanter and commenced rolling up his sleeves. Moving to the bed, he gathered several pillows, making a mound in the center of the mattress. He picked up his little wife, and arranged her atop the pillows, her bottom high and in position for punishment. She gazed up at him, her large blue eyes filled with anxiety that pinched his heart. His hand caressed her cheek and she moved her mouth to press a kiss to his palm. “Please forgive me, Papa,” she whispered.

What shocked him most was that he had already forgiven her. He realized that he could and would forgive her of anything, including the long list of infractions she had tallied up that day. No, he would not allow her to run roughshod over his rules or expectations, but feeling anything other than love and utter delight in her was impossible.

The bigger obstacle was for her to forgive herself. By the time he finished with her, she would know she had paid her penance.

He gave her cheek one final caress, then retrieved the strap and got into position. He stroked his hand across the flesh of her backside and it quivered beneath his fingers.

“I am going to use the strap on you, Hyacinth. It is reserved for the most serious punishments and I believe it is fitting today.”

“Y-yes, Papa,” she said and he could tell she worked hard to sound brave.

“I am going to give you ten strokes with the strap. No warm up. It is going to be hard and fast. Do not move or try to avoid it, as it could cause harm and I will be forced to start the count over. Do you understand?”

Cynny wrapped her arms more tightly around the pillows and dug her knees into the mattress. “I understand, Papa.”

He raised the strap and landed the first blow to her left cheek. She yelped, but held her position. Immediately a red mark showed bright on her bottom.

Nine more to go.



Sue Lyndon & Celeste Jones's books