After his visit with Lord Cavendish, whom he found he liked quite well, Grayson had headed back home with the intention of giving Cynny a hearty spanking and a stern lecture about honesty.
When he walked into his library and saw the naughty chair was empty, his heart plunged. Had she run away? Most distressing, she had not trusted him enough to stay and face her punishment. Did she think him a barbarian? Cruel and heartless?
He reached for his pocket watch and cursed. Though it had been several weeks, the decades long habit of checking the hour remained. Regardless, he did not think sufficient time had passed for her to go far. He called for Reynolds, the butler.
“I have not seen Lady Grayson, my lord,” he said, “though I did hear some odd noises coming from the drawing room which I had intended to investigate when you called for me.”
Grayson thanked him and set off on an ungentlemanly trot for the drawing room. Assuming his little scamp of a bride might be up to something, he had opened the door carefully and glanced about the room. At first, he had not seen her or noticed anything amiss, until a closer look at the sofa revealed his wife’s protruding ankles.
He towered above her, hands on hips, a variety of emotions battling within him. He was hurt, angry and disappointed, to say the least. But looking down at his little wife, her eyes wide with surprise, her breath shallow pants and her hair loosened from the braids he had managed to weave that morning, little wisps of her golden tresses glinting in the sunlight. Bloody hell, she was adorable.
Regardless, she had behaved atrociously and it was his duty to enforce the rules of the household.
She had not uttered a sound since he pulled her out from under the couch. He had not spoken either. Apparently they both were at a loss for words.
He took the lead. “I am very disappointed in you, Hyacinth.” It was a simple, honest statement, and he watched as sadness flickered across her face.
“I am sorry, Papa,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Her lips quivered and she blinked back tears. “I-I never meant to disappoint you.”
“Did you not think that disobeying my instructions would disappoint me?”
“Yes, but I planned to be back before … oh…” her voice trailed off.
“So it would not be disappointing for you to disobey me as long as I did not find out? Did we not have a discussion this very morning about secrets and the importance of being honest with each other?”
“Yes.”
“And did you not promise you were not hiding anything else?”
“Yes.”
“Damn it, Hyacinth, have you nothing else to say for yourself, to explain yourself, besides ‘yes’?”
“Papa?” she asked. “M-may I get up from the floor, please?”
“Of course.” He reached down and lifted her to her feet, her small body trembling in his hands. It reminded him of their first carriage ride after their impromptu marriage. “Hyacinth,” he said, taking her hand in his, “are you afraid?”
“A little, P-papa.” She glanced up at him, trepidation in her eyes.
“Do you recall our wedding day, Cynny, when I said you needn’t fear me?”
“Yes, Papa. But I have been very naughty and I know I deserve a stern punishment.”
“Oh, you will be punished, you may rely on it. And it will be painful. But, I would never do anything to cause you serious harm, do you understand the difference, Cynny?”
“Y-yes, Papa. I believe so,” she said, though her voice quivered.
He drew her close to him. “This afternoon is going to be difficult for both of us. I do not enjoy disciplining you, little girl. But I know it is my duty to help you become the best little girl and best wife you can.” A shuddering breath escaped her body and he felt her relax against him.
“I am so very, very sorry, Papa.”
Cynny had no idea how many messes she could make in one day, but today had to be a record breaker. She wound her arms around Papa’s waist, drawing strength and comfort from him, fighting against the sobs threatening to erupt from the depths of her soul.
After a few moments, Papa pried her arms from his body and set her away from him. “There can be no avoiding it, Hyacinth, so let us commence your punishment the sooner to be done with it.”
She nodded. She hated the idea of punishment, but she also knew that once it was over, the deed would be forgotten, never to be spoken of again. Her papa had taught her that and he had been true to his word.
“We shall need privacy. Let us adjourn to my bedchamber.”
A pit of dread formed in Cynny’s stomach. Much as she tried to remind herself of Papa’s words that she need not fear him, fear engulfed her entire body and she fought against trembling as he took her hand and exited the drawing room.
They walked in silence for several paces when suddenly Reynolds rushed into the hallway, dragging Liza, one of the downstairs housemaids, behind him, a firm grip on her wrist.
“My lord,” the butler said, once he caught his breath, “there is a thief amongst us.”
Cynny gasped and her blood ran cold. This was it. But how had Reynolds discovered her horrible secret? Did Liza know?
“A thief?” Papa said. “I cannot abide thievery.”
A prickle of sheer dread ran down Cynny’s spine. Papa would never forgive her.
The butler tugged on the housemaid’s arm and presented her to Lord Grayson as though she was a pheasant he had just bagged. “I caught her myself,” he said. “Your missing watch clutched in her sticky fingers.” Reynolds held the watch out and Papa took it in his hand, a smile of pleasure on his face as he examined his missing heirloom.
“My lord,” Liza bobbed a curtsy, “‘tis a lie.”
“Red handed, I say. Stealing from a kind employer such as you, my lord. Disgraceful.”
Cynny had never seen Reynolds so animated, he almost had her convinced of Liza’s guilt.
Though, of course, she knew the allegation was without merit.
The four of them stood in the wide hallway outside the drawing room. “Liza,” Papa said and Cynny recognized his stern, no-nonsense voice, “what have you to say for yourself?”
The maid stood firm and looked Papa in the eye. Cynny felt horrible for her. Although Papa had told her it was not proper for her to be friends with the help—that was when he had arranged for Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding to call upon her to welcome her to the neighborhood— Cynny had still taken a liking to the young maid. And well she knew the indignation of a false accusation. Despite her brave front, Cynny could see Liza’s hands tremble. If Papa believed the butler, Liza could be arrested. Fired, at the very least.
Liza had once confided that she sent her wages home as support for her widowed mother and younger sister. Whenever she got an afternoon off, Cook gave her extra food to take to her family. What would happen to them without Liza’s help?
“I ain’t no thief, my lord.” Liza shot a scowl at Reynolds and jutted her chin up. “I found the watch this morning when I was cleaning beneath the couch in the drawing room. I went looking for you to return it, but you were out.”
“You could have left it with me,” the butler chimed in.
“Pfft.” Liza rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows there is a reward for this watch. I meant to turn it in myself to make sure all the money came to me.”
Reynolds looked askance at the implication of her words, but said nothing.
Papa was thoughtful for a moment, then glanced down at Cynny before returning his attention to Liza. “Beneath the couch in the drawing room, you say?”
“Yes, my lord. I saw the sun glint off of it. It was far back, but I was able to crawl underneath the couch and get it.”
“That seems to be a popular past time here at Grayson House.” Papa gave Cynny another pointed look.