The Reformer (8 page)

Chapter Five

Ryan smiled as he placed a tray of porridge and a cup of tea before the wide-eyed Aryanna. She watched as he drizzled some honey and cream and slowly stirred it in. He lifted the spoon to her mouth. “Eat,” he ordered.

Aryanna opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her, still confused and unsure of her situation or what he expected of her. So far, he had been nothing but kind and nurturing, and she began to look forward to his visits and the application of salve upon her slow-healing wounds. His touch was gentle, soothing, and raised a feeling within her that she did not know how to relieve. It was pleasantly uncomfortable, settling between the middle of her thighs.

Ryan was pleased with her response. In her present state, it took little to persuade her to submit to his care. In three weeks’ time, the hollow darkness of her cheeks were starting to show forth a rosy plumpness, and her over-sized eyes shined with eager intelligence. He loved her eyes. They were the color of a bright summer sky and almost too large for her slender face, making her look like one of his mother’s faerie-folk. Her halo of pale blond hair felt like corn silk to his fingers as he pushed it behind her ear.

“We start lessons today, Ary. You are to tell me if you do not understand your instructions.”

“Yes, Lord Ryan,” she whispered, listening carefully and hanging onto his every word. His voice was warm, soothing, and rich, his accent less pronounced than the others. She found it easy to understand him and repeat his words, doubling her vocabulary during her convalescence. He had brought her beautiful picture books to look at and read stories aloud to her. He asked questions, and, after discovering her fondness for sweets, rewarded correct answers with candy, as well as tremendous amounts of praise, which caused her to swell proudly in delight.

No longer embarrassed, Aryanna lifted her arms so that he could remove her nightgown, dress her in a shift and soft smock, and pull long-legged bloomers over her slender limbs. She giggled as he tied them in place, and he tickled her. She knew these were children’s clothes, yet she did not mind. They were soft and free, and they made Lord Ryan smile when she twirled for him. She grinned broadly as he buttoned her boots after grabbing her swaying foot playfully between his knees.

“Hold still, you little brat,” he ordered with a chuckle. Aryanna giggled and twisted her foot in circles to make the chore more difficult. “You are asking for a spanking, little one. Behave.”

“Where Papa and Mama?” Aryanna asked innocently, hopping off the bed and following him downstairs to the drawing room. He sat on the lounge and placed her between his knees so that he could brush and braid her long, silky hair.

“They went to the academy… Ary? What is wrong?” he asked, feeling her stiffen.

She turned to him, tears in the blue orbs, “Headmistress not good. She hurt Mama!”

“No, no, dove. Don’t you worry. Mama will be fine. Papa will protect her, like Lord Ryan protects you,” he reassured, frowning at her fright.

“Please, no go academy. Hurt there,” she forced out, trying to find her words.

“Shhh, calm down, now. We are not going to the academy, my pet. You are safe here. Aryanna?” Ryan said firmly, with a frown as she began to launch into hysterics. “Did you hear me? You are safe.”

Aryanna bit her lip and slowly nodded. She did not like to displease her reformer, and his frown saddened her. She wiped the tears off her face with the kerchief he handed her, noticing he maintained a stern, foreboding expression. She touched the smooth shaven edges of his mouth with her index fingers, and, on an impulse, pressed them up to force his lips into a smile.

Ryan grabbed her fingers and kissed the tips, rewarding her efforts with a genuine grin on his handsome face. “You don’t like my frown, do you? You think if you are cute, you can manipulate me, don’t you, missy? Well, you are partially correct. Come outside for a walk with me.”

Aryanna accepted his offered hand and scrambled to keep up with his strides. He pointed to items, asking their name. Aryanna responded quickly, eager to please him and earn his approval. After their stroll, he took her back into the house and sat her at a student desk in his study.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, watching her carefully and aware of the deep lingering bruises. She nodded and smiled up at him, the look of trust on her face making his heart flutter. She grew more beautiful every day, and he felt himself growing quite fond of her. But he had a job to do. As his father had dolefully reminded him, she wasn’t his pet and must be supplied with the skills she needed to survive. He could not afford to become attached to this young woman. He thought back to Gerard’s words that the first was always the hardest to let go. Ryan snickered to himself. That was how his parents ended up together.

He handed her a copy book, a fountain pen, and a picture book, ordering her to practice her letters. Aryanna stared at the paper in front of her, scrunched her face, and pushed the books away. Ryan lifted a brow.

“Is there a problem, little girl? You don’t use a slate here—”

“No like. I do that.” She pointed to his ledger books.

“Oh, you do? Well, I no like to do this,” he teased, handing her the large book and tweaking her nose as she eyed him strangely. She opened the book and started shaking her head.

“This wrong. And this. And this! Lord Ryan does book?” she frowned disapprovingly.

He shrugged, “Yes, Lord Ryan does the books. I am not very good at mathematics. I did not inherit my father’s aptitude for numbers.”

“I do numbers, you do letters?” Aryanna asked with a mischievous twinkle.

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “Oh no, you don’t, you sly little fox. You need to learn your letters.”

Aryanna wrinkled her nose, thinking. “If Lord Ryan does bad on numbers, you let Ary do for him?”

“You want to balance my books? Seriously? Well, my dear, consider yourself hired. But letters first.”

Aryanna sighed and picked up her pen, making a face as she began to scribble out the letters. Time ticked by and, bored, she began to draw pictures in her copy book. Ryan looked up from his desk, noticing how she kept eyeing him. With a frown, he rose from his chair and walked over to her. She quickly shut her book and flashed him the innocent smile that she had quickly learned caused him to relent from his scoldings.

“Allow me to see your letters, please.” Ryan held out his hand. Aryanna bit her lip and shook her head. He snapped his fingers. “Now, Aryanna. Give me that book. I do not enjoy repeating myself.”

Aryanna timidly handed the book to him and then faced the floor, ashamed of having made Ryan be demanding with her. Further, her fondness for drawing was an action that had sent her many times over the desk for a leathering by the headmistress. Ryan opened the book and began to flip through the pages, his mouth falling open as he viewed her sketches.

It was an exact likeness of him, sitting at his desk slaving unhappily over his ledgers. She had even caught the small ‘v’ between his brow and the tightness of his cheek as he clenched his jaw in concentration. Ryan looked up at her. “Ary? Why are you crying? This is incredible.”

“Please, no, Reformer! Don’t hurt!” she started to cry, covering her eyes with her hands.

Ryan squatted in front of her, pulling her hands gently from her face and holding them down. “Aryanna, stop crying. This is very, very good. You have true talent, my silly girl. You also have given me a way to teach you letters and spelling. I have to ride out for something. Will you be okay to stay here? Work on the ledgers?”

Aryanna looked up at him through teary eyes, confused. Why was he was not angry with her distraction from her assignment? He seemed… pleased. And he wanted her to work his books! She nodded, a small smile on her pink lips. Following a kiss on the forehead, Ryan quickly departed his residence to make his way into the small town several miles away. There was a papermaker there from whom his mother purchased her stationary. He quickly made his selection and several other purchases before returning to the house several hours later.

He entered the study to find Aryanna hard at work at his desk, correcting his many mistakes to his accounts. She looked up, ink smudged on her cheek, and smiled at him. “Lord Ryan! Look! You have much money now,” she announced proudly, handing him the book as he placed the brown paper-wrapped package down.

“Well, what do you know… Quite impressive, dove! Quite impressive! I bet Father could give you a job working for him once your reform is complete.”

“Work for Papa? No. I work for Lord Ryan.”

Ryan chuckled at the stubborn tilt of her pretty chin and handed her the package. She unwrapped it and stared with astonishment. He had purchased hand-pressed paper of many different colors and scents. The merchant gave him the Lady Remington’s favorites, embedded with flowers and leaves. He had also purchased drawing pencils, a hand mirror, and a magnifying glass. Aryanna’s hands shook as she stroked the paper before lifting it to her nose. Never had anyone given her such a beautiful gift.

“Your lessons, my pet. A is for Aryanna,” Ryan said, writing her name on the top of the paper and underlining the letters. He handed her the mirror, “Draw me a picture of Aryanna.”

* * *

“Wake up, Eliza. We have arrived,” Gerard announced as the carriage pulled into the estate grounds. Eliza sleepily groaned, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Her body ached from the ride, her muscles tense from trying to stabilize herself and avoid as many bumps on her seat as possible.

“Show me your bottom,” he ordered gruffly.

“Please, sir… it is improper…”

“This is the absolute last time I instruct you regarding your position here, young lady. You have lost all rights to your opinions, modesty, dignity, and social position once you come under the care of a reformer. You have brought this upon yourself, and it is time to pay the price,” Gerard’s voice boomed menacingly in the confines of the carriage. Eliza’s eyes widened fearfully. “Now answer properly and obey me, girl!”

“Y-yes, Papa,” Eliza shivered, turning to show him her bruises.

He placed his hand on her right cheek and patted it. “Very good. That was not so difficult now, was it? Follow me,” Gerard said, ignoring the tearful glance she offered him. Martha met them at the door, her solid, broad body filling the frame. She scowled at Eliza, arms crossed and holding a large wooden spoon.

“Eliza, this is Mrs. Stiller. She will be your nanny.”

“Nanny? I am quite capable of—Let go of me!” Eliza screamed as Gerard lifted her across the knee which he had raised on a step. He quickly exposed her bruised bottom to Martha and the carriage driver before proceeding to cover it with hard, heavy slaps. Eliza’s screams turned to tears as he repeatedly assaulted her already-tender flesh, making certain that she experienced full contact with the flat of his broad hands that had callused from many years of riding and working alongside his tenants.

“I’m sorry!” she yelled, kicking and crying, hearing the sound of her spanking echo in the courtyard. “For the love of God, I’m sorry!”

“I seriously doubt you are, but I promise you soon will be. Martha, please show Eliza to her room and set her in a corner until I come up. If she budges, use your spoon on her.”

“Yes, sir, Lord Remington. Come, girl, and stop your sniveling,” Martha ordered the crying woman.

“I hate all of you!” Eliza spouted as she stomped her foot, earning herself a swat on the rump with Martha’s spoon. She shrieked, quickly grabbing her offended backside.

Martha pointed the spoon at her, “Watch your tongue, child. You are not here to make friends. Move!”

Eliza winced as she passed several of the silent servants before mounting two flights of stairs. She followed Martha’s finger to a door and entered the room, her mouthing hanging open as she surveyed its contents. It was papered with tiny light pink flowers and all the furnishings were white. It was the specific furnishing, though, that left her flabbergasted. An oversized crib made up with white blankets sat against one wall. In the corner closest to the door swung a bassinet the size of a small couch, hanging from the ceiling by chains interlaced with pink ribbons. A large dresser rested neatly next to an open closet filled with clothing, and an armless rocking chair occupied the space next to the crib. Finally, a small student desk decorated with pink stationary and a feminine pink and white tiffany lamp shade over a candle base and a matching straight-backed chair were primly placed next to a large wooden box. Eliza squinted her eyes, trying to determine the contents. Toys? This could not be happening! She looked at Martha with horror.

“Well? Don’t stand there like a loon. Gather your skirt up past your bum, and put that nose of yours into the corner,” Martha commanded, tapping her foot impatiently. Eliza narrowed her eyes and then glanced at the wicked spoon held in the old woman’s right hand. Muttering under her breath, Eliza made her way to the far corner and lifted her dress from the back.

Minutes ticked by with Eliza growing even angrier. How dare he make her wait, and like this! She was planning on having a few words with the high and mighty earl, as soon as she was safely out of reach of his heavy hand. The sound of footsteps reached her ears, and Eliza held her breath. What was he planning now?

“Hmm, it appears that you have a way of gaining obedience with this one, Martha. Very good. Please prepare her bath and a change of clothing.”

“Food, sir?”

“No, I think she needs to experience what an empty stomach feels like for a bit, since she was so determined to deny food to the students. Thank you, Martha. Eliza, thank Martha for your new room.”

“This is ludicrous,” Eliza hissed turning around, dropping her skirts as she put her hands on her hips. “If this is what you consider reform, then I say to bloody hell with it!”

“My, my… such language out of one so young. Mind me, miss,” Gerard approached her slowly, noticing the nervous flutter of her lips, “if either Martha or myself hears another bout of profanity from you, a soaping will be happening. I have many ways of cleaning the inappropriate behaviors from a young lady.”