The Reformer (2 page)

Aryanna held her breath as she considered the tall man and his pleasant, white-toothed and dimpled smile. He was younger than she had imagined and terribly handsome. His short brown hair fell loosely in his face, and he had a gentle, casual demeanor that made her at once feel at ease and safe.

“Aryanna,” she whispered, facing the floor and trying to practice the manners Headmistress had been beating into her.

“What was making you smile, Aryanna? Was it because you are leaving this wretched place and the tasteless food?”

“No. I think of Papa. He blow bad things away.”

Ryan chuckled, “Ahh, my mother used to do that as well. Then she would catch them and throw them into the fireplace to burn. I'm sure you miss your family and your home. I know I would.”

Aryanna looked up at him hopefully. He knew about the ghosts and how lonely she felt! A tear of sadness glistened on her cheek, and Ryan's eyebrows crinkled with concern for the tiny, pale girl before him. He gently touched her thigh as he noticed she had propped herself on her knees and was not sitting. She blushed, looking away. This man touched her? And there were no chaperones? What did he want of her? Was she to be used as a common harlot? Her mind flashed to the terrible things she had witnessed the day her family had been killed, and she squeezed her eyes shut with fear that she would face the same horror that many of the others had as the soldiers took liberties upon them.

“I know you understand most of what I say. Please tell me when you do not. I promise that I will not harm you, dove. Come here,” he pointed to the floor in front of him. Shaking with terror, Aryanna obeyed the gesture, refusing to look in his direction. He slowly turned her around and gasped. Tiny specks of blood seeped through the thin material of her dress.

“This is too much. Stay here. Shhh, all will be well,” he said in a reassuring tone, gently caressing her pale cheek, noticing the intensity of her light blue eyes as well as the dark circles beneath them. He barked an order for food and tonic as he left the carriage and stomped angrily back into the building.

“Stewart!” he shouted, slamming the office door open and seeing the startled man at his desk. “That shrew drew blood!”

“It sometimes happens to the ones who refuse to learn,” the other man said calmly and without concern, lifting his pipe to his mouth.

Ryan slapped the pipe from his hand, sending it shattering against the wall. He reached over and pulled Henry out of the chair with a single arm, glaring into his face. “This mutilation of the body and spirit will stop, or I withdraw my assistance! And I want that woman discharged from service immediately!”

“Dear sir, caning has been applied to unmanageable bottoms for centuries. It is neither mutilation nor abuse,” Henry said in a tone that bordered sarcasm. “In any event, the Board will not agree to it, Your Lordship. Miss Woods is the best…”

“At torturing young, frightened girls? I said, this woman is to be terminated at once. Do not question my orders. You will lose support of my patronage and your job if you do not obey me.”

“I will do what I can,” Henry stuttered, seeing the deadly seriousness in the other man’s face and recalling his legendary temper. “I know the Board depends on your family’s contributions to keep this institution operating, so I will do what I am able to have them consider your request.”

“There is no issue of consideration. As headmaster, you have been given authority to hire and terminate. I expect this to be done immediately. And, when I return, I demand a meeting with the Board. There will be changes. I will not stand in silence while these students are beaten in the name of education. I am promising you, Stewart, that if that woman is still present, she will experience what a real caning feels like! And I swear on God’s green earth that you will be next!” Ryan shouted, watching Henry cringe. “Warn her of this. And advise her that every girl I discover being bloodied will be felt on her hide.”

“Of course, Lord Ryan. I will relay your message to her,” Henry said meekly but with a slight sneer in his tone. Ryan shoved him back into his chair, and muttering profanities under his breath, slammed the door behind him as he left. He returned to the carriage, his heart heavy for what the frightened Russian girl had experienced. It was no wonder she could not grasp the changes around her! Ryan was also determined to have a long, serious discussion with his father regarding the school’s practices. Lord Gerard W. Remington, Earl of Yarlshire, was a very stern and solid believer in reform, but he would never support abuse.

By the time he returned to the carriage, Aryanna was shaking violently and deathly pale. Ryan shouted orders for a blanket and then turned to the terror-stricken young woman. He spoke in soft, gentle tones, with his fingertips barely touching the top of her hand. “Aryanna? I know that decorum does not sanction my calling you by your given name, but I say to bloody hell with that. You are a good girl…”

“No. Ary… incorrigible. Not good. Sent to reformer to die,” she sobbed, looking away.

He hesitated, noting how she referred to herself. He then stroked her white-blond hair as though she were a frightened animal. “Ary is good. And you will not die with this reformer. Shhh… lay down, child. Damn that woman,” Ryan growled, forcing the girl to place her feet up on the bench and stretch out on her side. He was livid. Horses and dogs should not be beaten, nor should children or women. Especially to the point of blooding! He shouted for the driver to be on his way and then encouraged Aryanna to drink the bitter liquid he held. She wrinkled her face and pushed it away.

“Aryanna, drink. It is good,” he said firmly, using her full name to indicate his seriousness. He pushed it towards her lips.

“No. Bad. Ary not want die yet,” she refused, tightened her mouth against the edge of the cup.

He tapped her nose. “Drink. Now,” he ordered with a stern frown. Lip quivering and certain he was poisoning her, Aryanna shook her head. Rolling his eyes, Ryan sighed. “Look. It is good. I will drink.” He took a sip and could not prevent the wry face that followed. “It tastes horrid, but drink anyway.”

Aryanna hid a tiny smile at his reaction. He had proven to her that it was not poison but agreed it was foul tasting. Determined to survive her upcoming ordeal, Aryanna felt it best to try to comply with her reformer’s requests. She reached for the cup and, taking a deep breath, swallowed the bitter contents without attempting to hide the screwing of her face. Ryan laughed, praising her, and she offered him a shy smile. He then pressed her back down on the bench, tucked the blanket gently around her slender frame, and prayed that she would sleep through the majority of their ride.

* * *

“Miss Woods? A word, please,” Henry said as the stiff-backed headmistress walked past his office. Eliza Woods paused, annoyed that he would distract her from her duties. She did not hide her irritation,

“What is it, Henry? I have work to do.” The indifferent and casual way she addressed him irked him greatly. It was a deliberate show of disrespect and too familiar to be proper. Yes, this one would benefit from a sound caning too. Alas, he was not in a position to do so. But he would love to hear her screams…

“Your work will wait a few moments. Come in and have a seat.” Henry pulled out a chair for her, waiting as she sat, and then took his own seat across the desk from her, “We have a problem. Lord Ryan is angry.”

“His Lordship is always angry about something irrelevant. Last week, he complained that the children were not getting enough fresh air and should be allowed to run. Run! Would you even consider such a proposal? They need discipline, not playtime!”

“While I respect your education in instruction and the training of young minds, we must remember that Lord Ryan and his father, the Earl, are the primary financial supporters of this academy. Without them, both you and I are without employment.”

“He is a young, coddled son of a wealthy banker. And he’s a Modernist!” She shuddered as the dreaded term came from her lips. “He cares not for social standing, reputation, or his class. He is no better than the American whom he studied under. Further, he knows nothing about—”

“Lord Ryan has been called upon by the Crown, no less, to give opinion in this new venture our beloved King Edward has shown interest in. The Remington’s methods have been published both here and in the British colonies worldwide. Not only is Lord Ryan’s expertise greatly admired and respected by the Crown, but his father is a long time and personal acquaintance of the present monarchy. Lord Remington’s reputation in this field goes unchallenged, and he tutored his son. These men are vital to our institution and are sanctioned by Parliament. Would you have the audacity to defy your King and country, Miss Woods?”

Eliza snorted. Her opinion of the present ruler and his flamboyant indiscretions was low and, in her view, he was not worthy of her regard or respect. “So why are you telling me this? It makes no difference to me,” came the haughty response.

“Lord Ryan has demanded that I discharge you for blooding the Russian girl.”

“He has no right! That brat was deliberately rude and used ill language in my classroom!”

“Unfortunately, he has reminded me that he has every right. Should he take his argument before the Board of Regents, he will assuredly have both of us replaced.”

Eliza’s stern, rigid demeanor dissolved before his eyes as she began to plead with him to stop the terrible injustice being inflicted upon her. He shook his head, writing something on a piece of paper. “I am sorry, but it has been decided. You will pack your things and leave these premises immediately. Here is a note of payment. Go down to the treasury and ask them to settle your wages.”

“But I have nowhere to go. This place is my home, and this,” she held up the note and shook it in his face, “won’t even rent a room for me. At best, I could teach in a workhouse. But without recommendations, I will end up as a millworker like… like a commoner! I am educated and from a well-to-do family!”

“You might consider returning to your family or perhaps staying with a relative. I truly am sorry, Miss Woods, but…”

“Returning to my father's home is not an option for me, and I would die before venturing to any of my brother’s homes,” Eliza snapped. “You are the headmaster! Surely there is something you can do! Perhaps talk with Lord Remington?”

“Lord Ryan made a sworn promise that if you were still here when he returned, he would personally apply the cane to you. Whether you believe that the degree of severity was warranted or not, blooding the girl caused him great distress. You are aware of how that young man holds true to his promises. He is not one to be easily swayed. His father even less so,” Henry snarled, not mentioning the threat to his own hide.

“I will take that chance, then. Those men do not frighten me in the least. When is he returning? I intend to stay in my position until I have opportunity to education them in the error of their ways.”

“I don’t know. I assume after he gets the young lady settled and starts her on lessons. Are you certain you wish to risk his anger? You should be concerned and perhaps consider presenting a tad more respect. I remind you of his reputation…” Henry urged, more concerned for his future health and well-being. “The damage he can do to us… you…”

“He rendered a man unconscious for beating a work horse to death, and because of his favor with the royal house, was not held accountable,” she spat. “I restate that I hold no fear for him. He must accept the fact that this child was not a horse! She is an incorrigible—”

“Young woman who does not speak our language. You have very little to rely on to protect you here, Eliza,” he said, deliberately using her given name to unnerve her. “Even I have no authority over Lord Ryan or his father. The old man has been a reformer for this academy since its establishment, and his wife served as the headmistress.”

“Yes, another foreigner. I am surprised they have not yet brought in a bloody American,” Eliza growled. She glared into his face. “Would you even help if you could?” she asked.

Henry looked into her large brown eyes. She wore her long brown hair in a tight, severe bun with her plain black dress buttoned high to the neck and adorned with a simple brooch. It fell cleanly to the ground and had straight, snug sleeves that hid her wrists. Despite the fact she presented herself like an old spinster, the thirty-six-year-old women had soft, lovely cheekbones, a graceful figure, and a rosy mouth that rarely showed forth a smile. A mouth he sorely desired to kiss and a body he would love to fuck. He felt his member stir, imagining her screaming beneath him. But her attitude was deplorable and not worth the time to bring her to heel.

“Yes, Miss Woods. If I could, I would help you. I am truly sorry.” His eyes did not hold the sincerity to match his words.

“You are despicable,” Eliza hissed. Clenching her jaw, the woman stood proudly and left his office. He shook his head, lit his cigar once again, and for a brief moment, felt sympathy for the next pupil who crossed her path.

* * *

Aryanna suppressed a cry as the carriage launched off the ground after striking a rough portion of road. She clutched the side of the seat, disorientated as her eyes focused on the austere man seated across from her. She attempted to rise and froze as he pointed to her.

“Stay there, Aryanna,” he ordered firmly. Seeing her eyes begin to tear, he reached over and touched her arm, “Good, Ary. Shhh. I’ll take care of you, dove. I won’t let anyone harm you again. I promise. Look,” he blew loudly around her, chasing away the “ghosts” and then wiping his hands with a look of satisfaction. Aryanna wrinkled her brow, confused by his gentleness. Reformers were said to be monsters, men who made the brutality of the headmistress appear like play. Perhaps this really was not her reformer? Was he taking her to the one who would change and mold her? Aryanna drew back from his touch, unwilling to accept the possibility that this sweet, gentle man would throw her to the wolf. But then, she did not have reason to trust any of these people who treated her as though she were less than a person.