The Officer's Little Rebel (7 page)

“It was unfortunate, sir.”

“Mr. Plum, unfortunate would have been a broken engagement on honorable grounds. My brother impregnated an innocent young woman and then abandoned her when he discovered her family’s fortune had dried up. She was such a fragile thing; he had to know how it would end.” He shook his head. “Marilyn Jennings’ blood will always be on his hands, and I will not lift up any man who does such a thing, not even a relation.”

“That is because you value honor, sir. Look at what you’ve done for that young lady upstairs. It was the kindest form of charity to take her in at all.”

“It’s not just charity, Mr. Plum,” Royce said. “Imogen is no different than a noblewoman. She has the same heart, the same spirit. She cannot be faulted for the circumstances of her birth. I saw past that the moment I realized the mistake I’d made with her, and recognized her as the kind of woman I could care for…” He looked up at the butler. “Just as father cared for mother.”

Mr. Plum smiled. “So you knew?”

“Oh, yes,” Royce chuckled, “although I don’t think I sussed it completely until I was older. The governess raised us. Mother was so small and pretty that when I was very little and saw my father’s way with her, I thought she was my sister. Father doted on her, and she called him papa. Only later did I realize the true nature of their relationship. As an adult, I decided I wanted what they had. Part of me believes my finding Imogen was a bit of serendipity.”

“Provided you can settle her,” Mr. Plum said. “She has a spirit to her, that one.”

“She does,” Royce agreed, “And that’s all the more reason to keep the likes of William as far from here as possible. He exemplifies what Imogen has come to loathe in men. He’s a cad, a drunk, and a gambler. I never want her to cross his path.”

“That is wise, sir,” Mr. Plum said. “William is a most unsavory influence, and no longer your responsibility. He has cast his lot in life; it is not your responsibility to give him what he has not rightfully earned.”

“Just so, and I’ll write him to that end,” Royce said, taking up his quill. “Thank you, Mr. Plum. I can always count on you for an ear.”

“Very good, sir,” the older man said.

Despite his disdain for his brother, it brought Royce no satisfaction to pen a reply to William denying him a dime.

“Your defiance of our father can almost be excused,”
he wrote.
“Your treatment of Marilyn Jennings cannot. That you refused to face her family after her suicide only proves you more of a coward than your refusal to serve the crown ever did. You do not deserve your name, let alone a title. The answer is ‘no,’ William, and I say this with regret, for you have shamed us all by your actions and I will have nothing further to say to you.”

Royce stared at the letter until the ink was dry, and then sealed and addressed it before handing it to a servant to drop in the post. He stood then, straightening his jacket. He’d been firm with his brother, now he would have to exercise firmness with his little Imogen.

Nanny Quinn had told him what had happened in the room, and how she’d corrected the girl. Royce had been going to speak with her earlier when he’d heard the telltale signs of her passionate cries from behind the door. He’d started to go in, but had decided against it. For the girl to be so blatantly defiant suggested something deeper than just a strong will. He intended to get to the bottom of the problem, but not in a hasty manner that would alienate her.

As he mounted the stairs, he was certain of what he would have to do. Halfway down the hall, he stopped by her door and rapped. When she didn’t answer, he removed the key he’d gotten from Miss Quinn and opened it. He was surprised to find Imogen still obediently in bed.

“I’d have thought to find my little one up and running about,” he said.

She had her back to him. “It wouldn’t do me much good to get up,” she said. “The minder you hired locked the door.” Now she did turn to face him. “Tell me, Major Kingsley, for I’m ignorant of the ways of fine people. Is it common practice to lock your
children
in their rooms?”

The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable.

“You’re angry,” he said.

“Of course I’m bloody angry.” She started to turn her back to him again, but he reached out, grasping her gently but firmly enough to hold her on her back.

“Nanny told me what happened,” he said. “She said she gave you a list of rules. Did you obey?”

“Am I still in bed?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, and then reached for her hand, which she immediately curled into a fist. He pried it open, staring down at the fading stripes left by the nanny’s ruler. Raising the hand to his mouth, he kissed the welts, then inhaled deeply, savoring the musky scent left on her palm. Running his tongue across one welt, he tasted the salty remnants of her dried arousal.

“You stayed in bed, but you touched yourself.”

She jerked her hand away so violently it took him by surprise. Pushing back, she sat up against the headboard, glaring.

“Be honest with me, and with yourself,” she said. “You don’t want a wife. You don’t want a companion. You want a slave. And you think you can treat me as one because of… what is it you grand people say, my ‘station’?” Imogen shook her head, scoffing. “My stepfather was right. You think we are rubbish to be ground beneath your expensive boots.”

He stared at her for a moment, stunned. “Imogen,” he said. “You could not be more wrong.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “Is that not why you keep me locked away, separate and apart? Is that not why Miss Quinn reminds me at every turn that I am lesser than you? She assumes me dirty, told me the fine clothes would be a change from the ‘filthy rags’ I wore when you found me.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Was I wearing filthy rags when we met, Major Kingsley? Was I?” She raised her voice on the last question, and he realized now how she’d misinterpreted things, and how wounded he’d left her.

“Oh, Imogen,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You are so wrong, although I can see how nanny’s thoughtlessness may have led you to this impression. I will speak to her, and have her apologize if necessary. I do not hold your station in society against you. My regiment was full of men from all walks of life, and some of the bravest, best men I’ve ever known hold neither lands nor titles.” He sighed heavily. “One was a young man named Robert. He took a bullet to save me. I could not save him. On the other hand, I have just recently written to a brother whom I have disowned for a wrong he did to a young lady simply because he found she did not have the wealth he’d hoped to gain through marriage.” He paused. “I will not go into details, but understand that I see you as a beautiful young woman of worth.”

He could see her struggling to discern whether he was telling her the truth.

“Then why keep me locked away as a child?”

“Because that is the way of my family. My father kept my mother as his ward, and they had such a happy life together. She never wanted for a thing, never had to guess whether an action was right or wrong because he gave her a framework that made decision making easy. He offered her loving correction when she was naughty, but the rest of the time spoiled her silly. My father was like me; he did not care for the social scene, but rather enjoyed being ensconced with his family. I only seek to give you the comforts my father gave my mother, and to enjoy you as he enjoyed her. That is, if you will have me. If you decide now that you’ve been aggrieved, as much as it pains me I will release you with enough money for a comfortable life.”

He could see the defiance in her expression become doubt.

“You’re being true in your words?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I am a man of honor, Imogen, and I would be your papa, and have you be both lady of this house and my little girl. But I realize now that if we are to move forward that I must give you a say in this matter. I sought to save you, but I will not force you into this if you are truly offended by what I offer.”

Now Imogen’s eyes filled with tears, and Royce watched as she drew her knees to her chest.

“I’m afraid,” she said.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said. “You will be safe and cared for, no matter your decision.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m afraid because I’m confused. I’ve been trying to hate you, but underneath it all, I find myself longing for you, for your… touch. I’ve been fighting as much against myself as I have against you, trying to find reasons to resist, because I am drawn to what you offer like a moth to a flame.”

He smiled at her, running a hand along her cheek. “My little rebel,” he said, “rebels against herself.” He drew her to him then, and felt his heart soar when she allowed herself to be settled into his lap. “I do understand. You have no precedent for trust. It takes both surrender and strength to trust yourself, body and soul, to a man you barely know. But I solemnly vow, my sweet little Imogen, to protect and care for you, to guide you and to awaken feelings you were never aware you could have.”

She dropped her eyes and blushed, and Royce felt his cock grow stiff at her sudden coyness.

“But this will start by addressing the matter at hand, quite literally.” He’d reached for her palm again and opened it. “You touched yourself against my orders. They were not intended to deny you pleasure, but to nurture and direct it. If you are to stay, you will be punished for what you did. Do you accept this?”

She raised her eyes to his, and in them he could see fear mingling with excitement.

“Yes,” she said.

“To fully agree to what I’m offering you, Imogen, you must answer me properly. Do you accept this?”

“Yes, papa,” she said, and there was a huskiness to her sweet voice that was welcoming and new.

He raised her to standing from his lap and then lifted her gown over her head. She stood before him, naked and Royce gave a ragged sigh as he took in her petite, womanly figure. Her breasts, just large enough to fill a man’s palm, were perfect and round with upturned nipples. This delighted him; she would need no corset under the childish dresses he was having fashioned for her. Her waist was small, but flared into generous hips. Her belly had just the gentlest swell. Her thighs were full and shapely, and between them lay her bare pussy, already dripping in anticipation of her submission to him.

He laid her over his lap, and she went willingly. Royce looked down at her bottom; it was full, with plump springy cheeks and a deep cleft. Charming dimples crowned the top of each perfect buttock. He ran his hand across one globe, reveling in the soft skin.

In the inn he’d spanked her with the slipper. Now he would spank her with his hand. Already the thought of her nates turning pink from his correction had him longing to shove himself into her pussy. But he was a disciplined man, and a disciplinarian.

She gave a sharp cry when he brought his hand down hard across her bottom. Royce wanted to rub the imprint of his hand blooming across her skin, but resisted the urge. Now was not the time for the indulgent lover, but the firm papa, so he pushed aside his carnal thoughts and began to spank her, the smacks falling so rapidly that she had no time to recover between them. Soon she was sobbing frantically, a small puddle of tears forming on the wooden floor beneath her face as her legs kicked helplessly. Her bottom was reddening, the cheeks growing hot beneath his punishing hand. Royce knew she was in pain, but even so he could see between the kicking legs that the dusky inner folds of her pussy had grown slick with need that coated the inside of her thighs. He spanked her there, too, painting those thighs a rosy pink before stopping. Imogen was writhing on his lap, promising to be his good little girl.

Once she finally collected herself, he instructed Imogen to listen to what he had to say. “You are only allowed to touch yourself with my permission during your training,” he told her. “I will school you in finding pleasure here…” He ran his finger up the slick seam of her pussy. “…and here.” Now that finger pressed against the rosette of her bottom hole, and he heard her moan as the little orifice twitched under his finger. “I will teach you to take my cock properly in your pussy, your mouth, and your bottom.”

She looked back at him, her pretty tear-streaked face surprised. “You’d use me in all those places?”

“Yes,” he said. “And you will love it. You’ll take my cock in your pussy until you scream with pleasure, you’ll swallow my seed without spilling a drop, and allow your bottom hole to be stretched until I take that final virginity. Oh, my little Imogen, you are a passionate girl, and keeping you as my little one will allow me to instruct you more fully than you can possibly anticipate.”

His finger slid into her then, and she came instantly. Royce knew it was as much from his words as from his touch; the notion of such deep, helpless submission excited her. He slid his finger in and out of her as she followed its motion with her hips, her arousal coating his hand.

“Oh, please,” she said. “Please fuck me!”

“Language!” he said, smacking her already sore bottom as he continued to plumb her with his finger, and she gripped him all the harder. He smiled at this, so tempted to do as she asked but wanting to wait. With some reluctance, he lifted her from his lap.

“No,” he said. “And it’s not because I don’t desire you. There will be times when I spank you for my own pleasure—or yours—and then I will gladly fuck you. But this spanking was to teach you a lesson, and you learned it, hmm?”

She nodded, her lip extended now in an adorable pout that made him chuckle. And he did kiss her then, lightly, but enough to make her groan.

“I have so many lessons to teach you, my little one. I look forward to them all.”

Chapter Eight: Lessons for Imogen

It was an adjustment by degrees for Imogen. She’d realized in those exquisitely painful moments over Royce’s lap that she did not want to be anywhere else. Her desire for him was too strong. And she’d been wrong about him; he was not the arrogant man she thought him to be.

He made good on his promise to have Nanny Quinn apologize for her condescending remarks. Of course, her apology came with a caveat. Miss Quinn was still her minder, and Imogen would have to obey or be spanked hard over the woman’s broad lap. But the nanny did seem appalled at learning she’d hurt her charge’s feelings, and her remorse was genuine.