She redirected her thoughts to her upcoming plans and excitement spiraled throughout her as she wandered down the wide corridors of Grayson House, happy that she no longer got lost in the spacious home. She had just come up from the kitchens after conferring with Cook about the menu for the upcoming week and in particular a luncheon she planned to host. The wives of two of Papa’s friends, Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding, had called upon her together recently and Cynny wished to repay their kindness with a luncheon. She had sent invitations to both ladies, as her first foray into polite society. She wanted to make sure all went as planned, in hopes that the ladies would speak favorably about her in the ton and when she attended her first ball with Papa she would be more quickly accepted by his peers. The menu for the luncheon would be perfect and she had already spent a great many hours thinking up proper conversation topics. She couldn’t wait, but what had her even more excited as she skipped toward Papa’s library, was that it was story time—the special time of day when Papa stopped whatever he was doing and cuddled her in his lap to read her stories.
Butterflies flitted in her tummy. Sometimes, after the story was over, Papa would be hard in his trousers. She would squirm around on his manhood and give him her most innocent look, pretending she had no idea what the hard thing in her papa’s trousers was, before he would roughly lead her to his bedchamber for a session of lovemaking. However, she recalled with a heated flush, yesterday he hadn’t even bothered to take her to his room. He’d shoved her over his desk, flipped her skirts up, and took her from behind, pounding into her cunny until she cried out her release and he spurted his seed into her depths. She’d had to take a bath then, because her papa’s essence was trickling down her thighs and making a mess, and during her bath time he’d stroked her to bliss yet again.
She knocked on his library door, pressing her legs together tightly as she stood waiting for him to call her to enter. Once she heard his voice, she opened the door, slipped into the room, and shut the door behind her with a click that echoed in the vast open space.
“Good afternoon, Papa,” she said, toying with one of her braids. To her utter astonishment, he’d styled her hair in two braids when he got her dressed in one of her new gowns this morning, and though she usually wore her hair tied in a ribbon behind her back, he had somehow managed to tame her curls into the girlish style.
His warm smile as he approached her lifted her spirits further, and she glanced at the large chair in the corner of his library, eager for their story time to commence. But when she noticed the book he was holding, her enthusiasm fled. It was a book she’d had in her bedchamber, and the very book in which she’d recently hidden Cammie’s letter that described what happened between husbands and wives, papas and little girls. While the explicit letter hadn’t made much sense to Cynny at the time, she now understood it to be quite detailed and naughty. What would he do if he found it? Her bottom cheeks clenched, because she’d intentionally hidden it and kept it as a secret from her papa. Even if he wasn’t upset by the contents of the missive, he wouldn’t approve of her stashing such reading material in a book.
“Is something wrong, little girl? You look awfully pale. Are you feeling ill?” Concern tinged his voice, making her feel even guiltier for her deception.
“Everything is fine, Papa. What if-if we went for a walk in the gardens now instead of having story time?”
He gave her a strange look. “If you don’t like this book, little girl,” he said, opening it partially and flipping through the pages with his thumb, “I will select a different one.”
Then it happened. The letter escaped from the pages it was hidden between and drifted to the floor. Oh no! She lunged for the missive, but Papa bent down and picked it up before she could reach it.
“That’s mine, Papa! Please give it back!”
He glanced at the letter and his expression soon hardened. “Hyacinth, go sit in the naughty chair. Now.” His tone was firm and she found herself walking toward the naughty chair—a new addition to his library that she didn’t much care for—that was situated in the far corner of the room.
She huffed and took her place on the seat, and felt tears pricking in her eyes when he sat down at his desk and spread the letter out, apparently intending to read it in its entirety. Oh, why hadn’t she burned the letter as Cammie had asked her to do?
Papa gasped—and she wondered which part of her friend’s letter had surprised him so. Then he made a tsking noise and pushed away from his desk, standing up and approaching her in a purposeful stride.
“Young lady,” he said, pinching her ear and hovering over her. “How long have you had this scandalous letter?”
“My best friend, Cammie—Lady Cavendish—sent it to me at Talcott House. I-I wanted to know what happened between husbands and wives.”
“Has anyone else seen this letter? Please tell me you did not pass this missive around to all the girls at Talcott House.”
“No one has seen it but me. I thought of showing it to my friends, but Daisy can’t keep secrets, so I decided to keep it to myself. I’m sorry I hid it, Papa.”
“You know I don’t wish for there to be secrets between us, Cynny. Are you hiding anything else in your room or around the estate that I should know about? More such letters or anything else of significance?”
“No, Papa, I swear it. I’m not hiding anything else. Just this letter.” A vision of the golden pocket watch hidden behind the leg of a couch in the drawing room flashed in her mind, but she dared not mention it. Not when Papa was already cross with her. She’d placed the watch there several days ago when Papa had gone to visit his solicitor, though it had yet to be found and now that she considered it, perhaps she ought to find a different hiding place. She wouldn’t be able to rest until it had been found and the cloud of her thievery no longer hung over her, threatening to destroy the foundation of her marriage to Lord Grayson.
He released her ear and straightened. Then he folded the letter and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “I appears I must pay a certain Lord Cavendish a visit. I doubt he will approve of his wife engaging in such scandalous correspondence. If you were writing such naughty letters to your friends, or anyone else for that matter, I would certainly wish to learn of your indiscretions immediately.”
Alarm rushed through her. Now Cammie would be in trouble, too. She grasped Papa’s arm and clung to him when he made to leave her side. “No, Papa, please! You mustn’t! Just let me burn the letter. You can spank me, if you must, but please don’t tell Lord Cavendish what Cammie’s done. She was only trying to help me, and despite her detailed letter, I confess I didn’t know if what she wrote was true, and I didn’t quite understand it anyway. As you will remember, I was quite innocent on our wedding day, and it was not an act, I swear it.” Tears cascaded down her face, her vision blurring as she peered up at her papa, praying he would change his mind about visiting Lord Cavendish.
“Cynny,” he said sternly, “You will remain in the naughty chair until I return. Don’t you dare move your bottom.” He extracted himself from her grasp and left her alone in his library.
She sniffled and stared at the converging walls in the corner, trying to decide what to do. Perhaps she ought to put the watch in a different place where it was easier found. Or maybe she ought to claim she found it herself, then he would be pleased with her and maybe he wouldn’t spank her. She waited until she heard his carriage pull away, trying to work up the courage to leave the naughty seat.
Lord Alexander Cavendish
Ashton Manor
Lord Alexander Cavendish sat at the desk in his library examining the stack of correspondence which required his attention. He was blissfully happy in his recent marriage to Cammie, but he had been so engrossed in the pleasures of her company — in and out of the marital bedchamber — that he had neglected his many other duties.
Determined to clear his desk, he had given strict directions to the staff that he was not to be disturbed and then had set about sorting through the pile of papers. Fortunately nothing had been overlooked to the point of disaster, though a couple of items did require immediate attention. He penned a letter to his solicitor and another to his banker, entered some notes in the estate ledger and then commenced to resolve his personal correspondence.
He made satisfactory progress. Much as he had enjoyed his time as a newly married man, it also felt good to get back to his usual habits and he determined not to let the pleasures of marriage to interfere with his duties as Lord Cavendish.