“Time is something we don’t have. Her wedding date approaches. Lord Kensington is coming to retrieve his little bride in less than a fortnight. I’ve promised him Hyacinth by name, and it would raise all sorts of questions if I try to rematch him with another girl at the last moment, when I’ve been writing him and promising his bride would soon be ready.”
Perhaps Cynny should be affronted to learn the papas who married young ladies from Talcott House paid handsomely for their brides. But she supposed the money to keep the house running had to come from somewhere, and all the papas selected by Miss Wickersham had wealth and status. Had she been born a lady from a reputable house, the circumstances of her betrothal would have been so much different. She would have enjoyed at least one season in London, attending the most fashionable balls and meeting many different potential husbands. Then, once a match was made, her family would have given a dowry to her husband. But she hadn’t been born a lady. Not even close.
Returning her focus to the wall in front of her, Hyacinth made a silent vow to stop her light fingered ways. She was soon to have a papa, Lord Kensington, to be exact and no doubt he would not be pleased to have a criminal for a wife. Much as she hated to admit it, she had been jealous when she learned that her dear friend Cammie was to marry a lord, but now she too would have the title of Lady. Lady Kensington.
The thought made her giddy. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she hugged herself and smiled.
She imagined Lord Kensington arriving to collect her on their wedding day, showing up at Talcott House in a grand carriage and dressed in his finest attire. She would be wearing the pretty bridal gown Daisy and Rosie were helping her make, and her golden curls would be styled in an elegant up do, with several ringlets framing her face.
A single glance at one another and they would fall deeply in love. They would exchange their wedding vows in a short, private ceremony and then he would whisk her away to his lordly mansion.
Oh, it would be perfect. She couldn’t wait.
Whack.
Cynny had been so absorbed by her daydreams of life as Lady Kensington, she had forgotten about Miss Wickersham and the fact that she was awaiting the rest of her discipline for picking the lock on the sugar cabinet. When Miss Wickersham struck one side of the chair with a wooden ruler, she got Cynny’s attention.
She startled and nearly lost the book which balanced on top of her head, but from experience she was able to quickly right herself without dropping the tome. A quiver raced across her bottom. She didn’t want a spanking with the awful ruler, but she had a feeling Miss Wickersham wasn’t about to let her off with a warning, especially considering that improving her behavior was of utmost importance at the moment. The very fate of Talcott House might rest on her shoulders.
She had already been filled with regret over stealing from Cook, but now she regretted her mischievousness even more. It had seemed like harmless fun at the time, but now her heart felt heavy with grief. Remorse rolled through her in sharp waves and she squirmed in her seat, dreading the chastisement to come, even though she probably deserved every whack the headmistress planned to give her.
“Please tell me, Hyacinth, why are you sitting upon the naughty chair?”
“Because I broke into the sugar cabinet.”
Miss Wickersham paced behind her tapping the ruler on her palm as she moved back and forth. The footsteps and the tapping, both where Hyacinth could not see them, had her nerves on edge. She had never known Miss Wickersham to be cruel—firm and determined, yes, but cruel, never.
Still, with the eavesdropped conversation ringing in her ears, Cynny could not help but wonder if the anxiety caused by diminished funds, not to mention the fact that she believed Cynny might endanger the future of Talcott House by stealing once she became Lady Kensington, might cause Miss Wickersham to mete out a more taxing punishment than usual.
Slow tears trickled down her cheeks.
“You can stop the show, Hyacinth,” Miss Wickersham said as she rounded the naughty chair. “We both know that you have an uncanny ability to pour on the tears whenever you wish.”
Miss Wickersham’s skepticism hurt even more. “No, Miss Wickersham. I am truly repentant. Please forgive me.”
“Well, if you aren’t sorry yet, my dear, you’ll be plenty sorry once I’m finished reddening your little bottom with this ruler.”
Cynny’s stomach sank to the floor. “Yes, Miss Wickersham.”
“All right, then.” The older woman resumed tapping the ruler against her palm, and each ominous rapping sound sent a jolt of nervousness through Cynny. “As it’s your twenty-second birthday, young lady, I think twenty-two whacks of the ruler against your bare bottom would be a most fitting punishment, don’t you agree?”
Cynny gulped hard and felt her eyes go wide. Miss Wickersham had never given her more than a dozen strokes of the ruler before. Her behind cheeks clenched and she sucked in a rapid breath as she gazed at the large ruler. Normally, she might argue with her caretaker over the exact nature of her chastisement, particularly during the times she was falsely accused of some naughtiness, which happened from time to time, but right now she couldn’t bring herself to beg for any sort of leniency.
Guilt surged through her. She had indeed been the one to pick the lock on the sugar cabinet, and in doing so she’d broken Miss Wickersham’s trust and caused her guardian a high amount of stress. She wasn’t even sure why she’d done it now. She’d been giddy as she shared the swiped sugar with several of the girls, which they had all promptly used to liven up their morning oatmeal. But now the warmth she’d felt over her brief popularity among the other girls no longer seemed worth it. If Cammie were still here, would Cynny have given into temptation and picked the lock?
Perhaps Miss Wickersham’s observation about why she’d misbehaved now, after a long period of mostly good behavior, was indeed correct. Cynny had been feeling awfully lonely of late, and after she’d stolen the sugar she’d been the center of attention among all the girls, which had quelled some of her loneliness. Of course, even if she tried to explain herself to Miss Wickersham, her poor bottom wouldn’t be spared the sting of the ruler.
“Stand up, Cynny. Let’s get this over with. I will make a proper little lady of you yet. When I finally turn you over to Lord Kensington, you will be polished, poised, and well-behaved, even if I must wear this ruler out on your bottom in the process.” Miss Wickersham removed the book from Cynny’s head and set it aside.
With her spirits sinking and nerves flitting in her tummy, Cynny rose up off the naughty chair and faced the headmistress, keeping her head bowed and her eyes lowered. She sniffled and blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the fresh surge of tears that burned in her eyes.
Odd, she had never felt the need to suppress her tears before. Of course, this might be one of the first times she was crying because she was truly repentant over her actions. This thought startled her and made the burning in her eyes all the worse. Did this mean she was a bad person?
Her heart lurched as a wave of desolation overcame her. She didn’t want to be a bad girl. She wanted to be a good girl. More than anything. Glancing up at Miss Wickersham, she vowed to be as obedient as possible during her punishment. She wanted to be back in her guardian’s good graces now more than anything, and she hoped her cooperation would help ease Miss Wickersham’s worry about Talcott House’s future.
“Disobedient little girls get spanked on their bare bottoms, don’t they, Cynny?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cynny could count the number of times she’d been punished on the bare on one hand, but she supposed this matter was more serious than any other time she’d misbehaved.
“Gather your skirts up around your waist and then bend over the naughty seat.”
Chapter 2