attention. He had spent a weekend not long ago, tutoring the young woman in an effort to teach her enough to pass her final mathematics exam. Though the girl had indeed passed with a perfect score, he knew she had paid a very high price for her diploma. Charles clasped his hands behind him as he began to walk along one of the many paths that wound through the large park. During his assignment at the highly respected Wintercrest Manor he had discovered a world, the existence of which he had only heard the vaguest rumors. It seemed that among the elitists of society, men no longer worried what most thought of them. They had the means and desire to live their lives exactly as they saw fit. Charles knew they did nothing to break any laws, but also knew they skirted along the edges of what most civilized people would consider acceptable.
Thinking of Wintercrest and the man who ruled his home so completely, he also remembered his first personal introduction to the lifestyle of absolute discipline. The memory of the young woman he was tutoring being paddled within his hearing after failing her first practice exam would remain with him forever. He also remembered how her guardian had required she lift her own skirts and bare her bottom for a strapping when she failed another quiz. He felt his heart hammer against his chest, remembering how lovely she had looked to him, her heart-shaped bottom lifting when commanded, her skin first paling as the leather licked along her flesh and then blooming a bright red with each upstroke of the strap in Lord Wintercrest’s hand. Charles had felt both astonished and embarrassed at his reaction to Lucille’s chastisement. His thoughts caused his stride to falter and he sank onto a bench along the side of the path.
He realized that if he were chosen for the position, he would be responsible for the education of many young women of society. One of the job’s requirement was that he be able to administer corporal discipline. Not merely spanking or paddling. The position represented the ultimate in discipline and meant that he would apply the cane upon any student’s bottom who had the misfortune of being sent to his office for correction. Though he had to admit he had enjoyed watching Miss Furniss receive quite a strapping, he wondered if he were truly capable of wielding such an implement against a pale, bare bottom. The pride of being considered for the position was quickly turning into anguish. He had never had a woman across his lap for even a hand spanking. He was completely ill equipped to discipline some young woman whose parents had seen fit to place her into his care.
Sighing, he stood and turned toward home. Being an honorable man he would, of course, respond honestly to the proposal the letter had included. As just one educator of many in the city, he realized he had a course available to him. His lips curled up into a small smile as his steps quickened. The only recourse that made any sense was to practice what he’d been preaching to his pupils for years: accept your deficiencies and work to correct them. The sooner he could set his plans in motion, the faster he could being his own lessons.
Having a definite plan sealed his resolve. Once back at his desk, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and, dipping his pen into the inkwell, began composing his response to the invitation. After blotting the ink of the bold script that filled the page, Charles slipped the folded letter into an envelope. Sealing it, he hoped that his honesty about his inexperience would not seal his fate. He could only post his reply on the morrow and pray for the best.
Later that evening, Charles slid into bed after extinguishing the lamp, his thoughts churning with dreams of a possible future. Though he was desperate to prove his worth to Lucille, he knew enough about the world to realize he must first prove his worth to her guardian. If he could not convince Lord Wintercrest of his ability to care for Lucille, it would not matter one whit what his desires were. Sighing deeply, he dismissed those thoughts as he slid into sleep, dreaming of the woman who had captured his heart and his mind.
As Charles read and reread his letter, Edward Wintercrest was also seated in a chair in his far more