The Reformer (7 page)

“I have never struck my child on the face, however, he would never have spoken to me with the disrespect you display as a woman grown! You are not to raise your voice again, young lady,” she said in a cold, calm voice. “And you are not to voice another opinion unless it is requested by your elders. You are to be seen and not heard, just as you expect your students to present themselves. Is this understood?”

“Yes… madam,” Eliza growled, rubbing her cheek. Lady Remington had surprised her with quite a strong right arm.

“Good. Now finish dressing,” Brigit ordered, crossing her arms. Red in the face, Eliza gathered the clothes and started towards the dressing screen. She froze in her tracks when Brigit announced, “Right here, where I can see you.”

Humiliation rushed through the younger woman as she removed her undergarments and replaced them with split knickers, long socks, and a muslin chemise. No corset or excess layers were provided and she felt her plump breasts fall loosely beneath the soft fabric. She slipped a white and blue smock over her head, blushing as it fell to just below her knees. Brigit tapped her foot impatiently as Eliza donned the pinafore apron and kid leather boots.

“Take your hair down and part it in half. Use a ribbon to hold it in place,” Brigit ordered, seeing the slight tremble of the woman’s hands as she was forced to dress like a five-year-old child. How could she survive the indignity of being seen like this? She looked around her for a coat, but the room was completely bare.

“Much better, now follow me,” Brigit ordered, leaving the room. They walked down the corridor, with Eliza acutely noticing the intense silence. Where was everybody? Her heart stopped when she heard bustling activity in front of them. The auditorium? An audible groan escaped her lips, and she froze at the doorway.

“I implore you, Miss—”

“Lady Remington, Eliza,” Brigit corrected, opening the door.

“Lady Remington, I can’t go in there looking like this! It’s improper, and my position demands…”

“I will remind you one final time that your position is that of a naughty child who must be taught boundaries, limitations, obedience, and manners. Go, before I lose my patience.”

Head down, Eliza walked pass the rows of the gaping students and faculty. The room grew deathly silent as Brigit led Eliza to the platform and stood her before Gerard.

“Much better. Ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed the assembly, “if I may have your attention, please. Ladies in the front row, I would strongly urge you to reserve your whispers for a later time, unless you would care to meet me after this assembly.” He glared straight at them. The three girls nodded, sinking in the chairs. He cleared his throat,

“I am Lord Remington. I am here because your headmistress, Miss Woods, has recently provided the opportunity to have one of you sent out to a reformer. I felt it is important for each of you to know and understand our purpose and goal in the event one of you require such intensity of training. Eliza, stand here before the school,” he ordered, watching the woman flush the deepest crimson he had ever witnessed upon a face. “One who is sent to a reformer is first stripped of all dignity and is deemed a petulant child. Hence, they are first attired in the garb of a child. This is a visible reminder to the reprobate, as well as to those around her, that she has to earn the right to be an adult once again. It is very effective, is it not, Eliza?”

The girls whispered as he addressed the headmistress by her first name, looking around in shock. The faculty grimaced, glancing at one another. Eliza did not respond.

“Eliza has elected to go through reform in lieu of losing her position here. I assure you that if and when she returns, she will be a much better teacher and a more understanding human being. How many of you have been disciplined by her?”

Nearly all the girls, and some of the staff, raised their hands.

“Keep your hands up, if you please. Of those who have been disciplined, who has been bloodied? The rest, lower your hands.”

Slowly, hands dropped, leaving fifteen girls with their hands raised and looking shamefully at the floor. Gerard heard Brigit hiss behind him.

“Of you, who has been bloodied more than once?”

Two of the girls lowered their hands.

“Would you mind telling me what occurred that deserved such severity?”

“This is unacceptable, Lord Remington! These children have no right—”

“I am not asking you, Eliza. I am asking these young ladies. Well, girls? There is no need to be afraid. You are not going to be punished for answering my questions. I promise.” His warm voice and gentle expression earned him a response. The girls shared their sins—uttering a profanity, stealing a pastry, tripping into the headmistress while coming down stairs, copying a sentence incorrectly, hanging a smock inside out—and Gerard felt his anger burn within him.

“Thank you, my dears. Has anyone else here committed any such heinous crimes as these as well? Do not be afraid, I only want the truth.”

As he suspected, all the girls and most of the staff raised their hands. He turned to Eliza, “Why did you blood them, and not the others? “

“They were impertinent, sir! They refused to submit to my authority! They must be taught.”

“Beg pardon, Your Lordship,” a woman called out, “the lady broke a breadboard on a girl because she was hungry. The girl reported that the headmistress had cut back their rations, and the girl was severely underfed as was. The child still cannot walk due to her bruises. It has been over ten days, sir.”

“Yes, Your Lordship,” a man stood up and said, “she cut another girl from the stables with a whip because she was afraid of the horses. That one ran away and is probably selling her body to survive.”

The floodgate opened as the staff, no longer afraid, shared the abuse and terror of the woman’s reign. Eliza reddened and started screaming at them to be silent, calling them ignorant peasants and stupid fools. The headmaster stood back, both shocked that the staff dared speak out and repulsed by the woman’s lack of etiquette and failure to remain dignified and silent in the face of her accusers. Henry glanced over at Gerard, noting that the large man had crossed his arms and stared at the woman as she revealed her wretched temper.

The earl pointed to a straight backed chair. “Headmaster, bring that to me, please. This temper tantrum is no longer acceptable,” Gerard ordered. Henry complied, his hands shaking with excitement as he witnessed Eliza being grabbed by the earlobe and forcefully pushed across Lord Remington’s solid thighs. She screamed profanities as Gerard positioned himself so that Eliza’s backside was facing the platform and then bared her bottom before the hushed audience.

He lifted his powerful arm high over his head and WHACK! The sound of his palm against naked flesh echoed through the rafters. Eliza screamed a profanity and a second WHACK was heard. The room grew tense as the earl generously unloaded his full attention to the correction of the unruly woman. She kicked, screamed, twisted, and struggled to escape his punishing blows, all decorum gone as her pale bottom quickly colored to the same red shade as that upon her face. Smack after heavy smack echoed through the rafters, the sound only disturbed by the woman’s angry tears.

“A young lady,”
SMACK!
“is always to present herself,”
SMACK! SMACK!
“with grace and proper decorum,” he lectured, addressing the stunned students. “She is never,”
SMACK!
“to lift her voice in anger,”
SMACK! SMACK!
“or utter profanities.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Gerard easily repositioned the chair so that Eliza faced the now silent crowd, her mortification increasing as she looked upon the gloating stares of so many people she had hurt. Gerard paused for a moment to let her humiliation sink in before snapping his fingers toward Brigit. She quickly handed him a nursery cane, made specifically to sting the recipient as they were held over a lap. “This,” Gerard said, striking the crown of Eliza’s buttock with the cane and hearing her scream in pain, “is the only type of cane,” SWISH! “that should ever be used,” SWISH! SWISH! “on a girl’s tender bottom!” SWISH, SWISH, SWISH!!!

Every swipe was met with a high-pitched squeal, followed by pleas to cease. One by one, he grimly and precisely striped her with ten more severe lashes, seeing the purple bruises form well beneath the surface of her alabaster skin. Her tender creases upon which she sat no longer held so much as a glimpse of white, sporting a heated and angry crimson that promised her some difficulty in sitting properly for the next day or two. Eliza now sobbed uncontrollably, limply hanging over his lap and lacking the ability to budge from her spot. Her disgrace, pain, and loss of power sent her spiraling into a pit of self-loathing and hatred. Gerard held his hand upon her bare bottom as he addressed the hushed room. Her skin was hot to the touch, and he was able to feel raised welts upon it.

“The reformers are here to teach and to guide. To help you change what you are not strong enough to change on your own. We teach discipline, but we also teach forgiveness,” he said, pulling the weeping woman to sit upon his lap as he wrapped his large, strong arms around her shoulders. Eliza slumped against him, crying loudly into his collar as he gently stroked her back and rocked her slowly.

Eliza was confused. She felt… at peace in his arms, despite the horrible pain he had inflicted upon her. She felt safe as well. What could this be, this trick of the mind? No! She would never submit to any man, let alone this one. How dare he treat her with such indignities! She resisted the urge to slap him across the face, knowing that would result in the absence of any mercy in the resultant punishment. Instead, she pulled herself away from him and yanked herself from his hold, distancing herself from him.

“Stand with your back to the audience, Eliza, and pull up your skirts so they can see the marks of your shame,” Gerard ordered, aware of her conflict. “Do this, or I apply the headmasters cane to you as you have done to these girls.”

Eliza took a step back, colliding into Henry. He was a solid wall, arms crossed and staring at her with disapproval. When Gerard reached for the thick cane, Eliza slowly complied, trying to ignore the twitters of amusement coming from the seats.

“During Eliza's absence, Lady Brigit will be taking place as headmistress. Please do your upmost to please her, for that will please me. She desires your happiness, as do I and my son. You are all dismissed.”

Gerard waited until everyone had left the room before he had Eliza stand before him again. He wiped her face with his kerchief and held her hands in his. “You disappoint me, girl. You have so much potential, yet you chose to disregard it to save your pride. Go now and gather only your personal items and meet me at the carriage. You will need to pack no clothing. Be quick, child,” he ordered softly.

“Yes, sir, Lord Remington,” Eliza sniffed, racing away as fast as her aching bum would allow. Those words, 'you disappoint me', caused intense pain in her heart. Why? None of this made sense to Eliza. What was this power he had? This ability to control and take over? It fascinated her as much as it repulsed her. And no clothing? Did he plan on keeping her naked? The thought caused her to both shudder in disgust and shiver in excitement. Where did that arise?

After Eliza had left, Gerard held his hand out to his wife and kissed the inside of her wrist, before pulling her onto his lap. Brigit wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his strong chin affectionately, saying, “You always amaze me, my love. I fear, though, that it will take much more than a spanking to bring her around. She still did not yield to you willingly this day.”

“You are correct; however, I do believe that she will learn to become compliant in time. You know first-hand how a little discipline, humility, and forgiveness can change a stubborn heart.”

“It is unfortunate that we have no time for you to remind me of these lessons,” Brigit giggled in his ear before nipping his lobe with her small, white teeth. Gerard grinned, smacked her thigh, and then lifted her off his lap with a hearty kiss to her forehead. He offered his arm and led her outside to the carriage to where Eliza waited, angrily staring at the ground.

“Are you certain you need no assistance in settling in?” he asked Brigit, holding both her hands in his and lifting them to kiss her knuckles.

“I am very well, my darling. Please have a safe journey. Eliza?”

“Yes, Lady Remington?” the women responded sharply.

“Look at me when I speak to you, please. That’s better. You will find that your lessons will be much easier if you submit to them. Dispose of that pride and attitude, girl, and you will be a much happier person.”

“Yes, madam,” Eliza forcibly muttered, her cheeks red once again. “Are you not accompanying us?”

“No, I am staying here to repair the damage you caused. You will ride with Lord Remington alone, as though you were a little girl,” Brigit stated causally, knowing that the elicited response would be one of undisguised horror. It was unheard of for an unescorted woman to ride in the privacy of a closed carriage with a man that was not her husband. Brigit raised her eyebrow to Eliza’s expression and continued, “I would be more concerned with the fact that the entire institution just viewed your private parts rather than your travel status, little miss. Shall I see you in a couple of weeks, darling?”

Gerard nodded, kissing her soundly in front of the disgusted Eliza. He watched his wife return to the building and then turned to the silent woman. “Into the carriage with you, girl. Oh yes, one more thing. From this moment on, you shall refer to me as ‘Papa’.”

“You are not my father! How dare—”

“Would you like another spanking atop the most recent one? I see you do not sit comfortably. I can ensure that will continue,” he stared down, his eyes boring into her. Eliza shook her head. “Good. Now lift your skirts, spread your knickers and sit bare bottomed on that bench for the remainder of our journey.”

Eliza flushed once again as, trembling, she reluctantly obeyed him. Aware of his scrutinizing gaze, she folded her hands in her lap and clenched her teeth, desperately trying not to yelp at every bump or fidget to relieve the burning sting left by the cane. Tears filled her eyes as she realized the reality of her upcoming days.