Royal Discipline Page 15

  But she could not ask him to call her Violet again. It would not be proper, now that her time under his tutelage was through. So she only looked out the window and clasped her fingers in her lap, and tried not to think about the things she’d miss about him.

  Why, there were plenty of things she would not miss at all! The Handle, for one, and his terrifying discipline parlor, for another. She would not miss those evil black clips, or the cage with its uncomfortable pallet and scratchy wool blanket. She would not miss that wall of implements, including his rack of polished canes. She would not miss the chastity belt, with its straps and devilish metal plate. She would not miss having her mouth humbled for sassiness, and the doses of “medicine” he deposited in her throat afterward.

  Really, the only thing she would miss was him, because she’d grown attached to him, to his lectures and expressions, and his fleeting, devastatingly handsome smiles. She would miss his company, and perhaps, just a little, their intimate nightly spankings.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, when she clasped her hands ever more tightly in her lap.

  She shied from his gaze to stare out the window. “I’m only a little nervous, I suppose. A little bit afraid.”

  “Why afraid?”

  Her throat worked some more. If he used that tender voice with her, she feared she might begin to cry. “It’s only that... Well... What if, in spite of my best intentions, I return to my old ways?”

  “You must take care not to do so,” he said. “You know better now.”

  “But what if it happens anyway? Everyone at the palace defers to me, and bows and scrapes no matter how awfully I behave. You won’t be there to glower at me and threaten your various torments. What if I change again, back to the way I was?”

  His lips turned down at the corners. It wasn’t a grimace, but very close. “I don’t think you were happy the way you were. I can’t see you reverting back into a person you didn’t like.”

  “Perhaps.” Tears rose in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “I guess the hardest part is that I’ve come to depend on you. I’m not sure how steady I’ll be when you’re not around.”

  The last words came out in a rush, followed by a stifled sob. She wished there was some place to hide as she fell apart, but there was not.

  “Violet,” said the duke, and his voice sounded as mournful and strained as hers. “Come here.”

  She went into his arms as he opened them. He pulled her against him, right into his lap, and she let the sobs stutter out of her into the folds of his cravat in a most undignified way.

  To save his linen, he offered his handkerchief instead, dabbing it against her cheeks. The other handkerchief he’d given her was secreted away with her things, the only souvenir of her stay with the Duke of Thornton.

  She must keep it forever, to remember his warmth and scent. She doubtless set her tiara off balance, pressing it into the side of his neck. But he did not chide her, only held her, occasionally running his fingertips in a soothing manner up and down her arm.

  “I think you’ll do fine,” he said, after she’d calmed enough to listen to him. “But it’s also all right to feel sad, and afraid, and worried. It’s quite natural in your situation.”

  “I’ll miss you,” she cried.

  “And I’ll miss you too. I’ll miss being in control of you, for you were a challenging and exciting student. For all your improved behavior, you’ve never lost that lively spark that made me admire you, and I hope you never will.”

  She blinked at him. “You admired me?”

  “How could anyone not admire you?” He glanced down at her rich gown, and straightened her tiara. “I admired you from the first day I met you, which was many years ago.”

  “I...” She searched her memory guiltily. “I don’t remember.”

  “I’m not surprised. You lived in your own world then, and that world revolved around you. You were a marvelous brat, full of your own developing power. You were so exquisitely impossible. While others criticized, I thought to myself, ‘She’ll make a magnificent queen someday, once that willfulness is tamed to better purposes.’”

  “To caring and virtue, rather than selfishness,” she murmured.

  “Precisely.”

  “Did you ever imagine that you would be the one to tame my willfulness?”

  He didn’t answer, only held her regard very steadily, and she realized he had indeed intended to be the one. She breathed in and out, and wondered whether to be flattered or disturbed. His study of behavior, his practiced techniques, even the height of the racks and benches in his discipline parlor…

  Had it all been tailored to her?

  “You were sure of my success because you’ve prepared so long for this,” she said, staring at him.

  “Yes.”

  “But...” She swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the longevity of his devotion. “What if you had failed?”

  “There can be no room for failure in the making of a queen. Your father agreed. Why else would he allow me such freedom in transforming your behavior? At any rate, I was successful. You were successful. Your father will be so pleased to see the changes in you.”

  “I hope so.”

  He brushed away the last traces of her tears. “You’re still nervous, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Although I’m trying very hard not to be.”

  “Perhaps I ought to administer one last spanking, so you arrive at your father’s palace in the proper state of mind. What do you think?”

  Violet hesitated. His suggestion caused a lot of conflicting feelings. She thought it probably would help calm and focus her behavior, but it would also hurt. And now that she was dressed as a proper princess, and he was relating to her as one, she felt a bit embarrassed about being spanked by him. She glanced down at his hand on her knee, large as ever, and eminently capable of disciplining her.

  She looked back into his eyes and said, rather plaintively, “It’s a difficult thing to choose.”

  He began to take off his gloves. “Then allow me to choose for you. I do believe it would be best.”

  She watched as he laid his gloves aside, then turned her with firm intent and draped her over his knees. The carriage bobbled on, the driver oblivious to the fact that the princess in the traveling compartment was about to be spanked.

  “What elegant stockings,” he said as he drew up her skirts.

  “They match my dress.”

  “They are very regal.”

  That comforted her, to know that she could remain a regal royal in his eyes even as she was being spanked. He began with a few tentative smacks, as if getting his bearings in the coach, and then set about blistering her bottom with a tattoo of firm, rhythmic wallops.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She wanted to take this spanking in a docile, willing way, but that was never an easy task with any punishment, and this spanking was harder than the scheduled ones he had delivered the past few nights. She supposed that, just as he saved the hardest strokes for the end of any given punishment, he was saving the hardest spanking for now, at the very end.

  “Oh. Ow. My goodness,” she whispered every so often. “That really, really hurts.”

  After a while, he was obliged to grasp her hand and trap it at the small of her back so she would stop flailing it out in the air. It was a relief to her, for then she had no ability to shield her sizzling cheeks, and no choice but to surrender.

  “Is the spanking helping?” he asked, as she twitched across his lap and occasionally kicked her legs.

  “It’s hurting,” she cried. “Very badly.”

  “Excellent. Toes on the floor, Your Royal Highness.” He dealt a sharp spank to the underside of her arse cheeks. “That’s better.”

  Violet tried to hold the position as he continued to belabor that sensitive area. The pace of the spanks quickened, building to a crescendo that had her in tears, but she didn’t fight or try to escape him. In truth, he was driving her t
o that peaceful place where she felt relaxed and submissive, and ever so desperate to be good.

  When he finally finished, he rubbed his palm across her bottom. Again she felt embarrassed, as if she should cover herself, but he’d seen her in much more undignified positions.

  “That was a hard spanking,” he said with a hint of admiration. “And you took it very well.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” She blinked back the moisture that had gathered in her eyes. “I cannot seem to call you Thornton yet. It seems to lack respect.”

  He brushed down her skirts and righted her, and adjusted her tiara again. “You may call me whatever you wish, Your Highness. Particularly now that you are almost home.”

  It was impulsive and un-royal in the extreme, but she flung her arms about his neck and hugged him, and buried her face beneath his chin. He let her stay like that until her trembling ceased, and her bottom didn’t ache so horribly. He made a great, firm pillar to brace against, both literally and figuratively. More than that, she loved the way he smelled.

  “I shall miss you,” she said when she finally drew away. Emotion made her voice tight. “I’m trying to be sensible and dignified about our parting, but I shall miss you very much.”

  His blue eyes sparkled at her, dazzlingly clear in the light. “I daresay you’ll still see me now and again. Thornton Manor is not so far from the palace, and I have long been a member of your father’s court.”

  She hadn’t thought of that, that he would still attend court events and royal audiences. So it was not goodbye forever. She would certainly see him again, perhaps at her upcoming wedding. She’d be able to show him that he had permanently changed her, that she was still well-mannered and virtuous, and obedient when necessary. They might even share a secret, affectionate smile.

  With this in mind, Violet forced herself from the comfort of his lap and moved back to her own bench, smoothing down her skirts and composing her demeanor. It was time to be a royal princess, trained in impeccable manners. Within a quarter hour, she noticed with great excitement and no small amount of happiness that the spires of Hastings Palace had finally risen into view.

  Chapter Fourteen: A Promise Kept

  As they pulled around the palace courtyard and came to a stop before the great front doors, Violet wanted nothing more than to launch herself from the carriage and run to her father’s arms. Instead, the duke asked her to sit politely and wait, and remember her manners. Her bottom still felt hot and achy enough for her to obey his request.

  So it was that she entered the palace on the duke’s arm, in a stately and disciplined manner. She and the duke were informed that her father was in a meeting with his councilmen, so he led her to the stateroom in the same dignified way. When she smiled at one of the royal maids in passing, the woman nearly dropped her bundle of linens. Violet vaguely remembered throwing a chamber pot at the poor thing a few months earlier. Not anymore, she wanted to say. I’ll be throwing no more chamber pots at your head.

  The stateroom broke out in whispers as she and the duke were announced at the door. Again, she wished to run to her father’s side, but the duke’s fingers covered hers in a clear reminder—or warning. Manners. Virtue. Control and respect. In private, she could throw herself at her father and sob her happiness at seeing him. Here in public, before thirty or so of the most influential members of his council, she walked calmly on the duke’s arm and curtsied to her father when she met him in the center of the room.

  “Dear papa,” she said when he raised her. “I’m so happy to be home again.” She launched into her carefully rehearsed speech before she lost her composure. It was made a bit easier with the duke’s presence at hand. “Papa, I’m so sorry for the grief I caused you in the past, and so thankful that you saw fit to send me to Thornton Manor to improve myself. I hope I’ll make you happier from now on.” She paused, wishing she might lean into the duke. She felt a soft, furtive touch upon her back. “I’ll try, anyway,” she told her father in a final rush of words. “I’ll try to be better for you, and kinder, and more biddable.”

  “My child,” he said, taking her chin between his fingers. “My darling daughter, I can hardly believe it’s you.” A moment later, he seemed to remember their sizable audience of courtiers, and invited her and the Duke of Thornton into a more private adjoining chamber.

  Once inside, he caught her in an embrace and said again, “I can hardly believe it. You’re so much calmer and well-spoken.”

  “I’ve changed,” she said with quiet pride. “I never again wish to behave like the spoiled princess I was.”

  He looked suspiciously toward the duke, then back at her. “You’re not only saying this? You’re not only pretending to be good and mannerly?”

  “Your Majesty,” said the duke, “I assure you, your daughter has indeed changed for the better. It did not come about without a great deal of soul-searching and effort on her part.”

  And a lot of spanking on your part, she added silently. Her bottom still throbbed from the spanking in the carriage.

  Servants arrived with tea and cakes for the king and his visitors. When they saw Violet, they had the same reaction as the maid, a combination of surprise, and the fear of having something thrown at their heads. She realized she had a lot to make up for, and a lot more work to do.

  “Let us sit and eat together,” said the king. “And speak of your transformation, Violet.”

  As they enjoyed the excellent refreshments, Violet related her experiences at Thornton Manor, only hinting at the rigor of the duke’s disciplinary techniques, and leaving out the grittier details. She focused instead on her internal journey, from rebellion, to resistance, to capitulation and resignation, to the realization that she had a responsibility to change.

  Her father seemed particularly touched by that part, as she related her regret and sorrow at all the things she’d done.

  “I knew I could not go back and undo them,” she explained. “But I knew I could do better, and when I tried to do better, the world no longer looked the same. It looked brighter and happier, and everything seemed more fulfilling. I realized I’m a happier person when I don’t think only of myself. If I needed a little humbling to come to that point of view”—she slid a look at the duke—“then I suppose it was worth it.”

  “It was my honor to humble you,” Thornton replied with a low bow.

  They exchanged glances as she blushed hot. There it was, his secret, affectionate smile. When she looked away, she noted that her father was watching them closely, with open speculation in his regard.

  “It’s important for a future queen to know how to wield power,” her father said. “It’s important for a future queen to be strong, but it’s important for a future queen to know humility as well. A queen must sometimes put her subjects and her kingdom above her own needs. A queen must be able to take perspectives and feel empathy. She must, therefore, know what it means to be humble. Those qualities don’t hurt in a marriage either,” he added, very much in the style of a hint.

  Violet held her father’s gaze. “I’m ready at last to be married, papa. The duke feels I ought to marry right away, and I rather agree with him.”

  “She is ripe to be wed,” agreed Thornton, making her blush more deeply.

  “I promise I shall have a much better attitude about marriage now,” she continued. “The duke has instructed me on all the virtues of a biddable and agreeable wife.”

  The king’s lips trembled with barely concealed emotion. “You have no idea, Violet, the weight this lifts from my shoulders, the anxiety it clears from my mind. For years, I’ve worried about your future and the future of the monarchy. Now you say so sweetly and calmly that you are willing to marry. Your temper is not the least in evidence, and the manners you display are impeccable. I can hardly believe it’s true.”

  “It’s true, I swear it.”

  He came to her, and enfolded her in another fatherly embrace. “My child, I’m overwhelmed. I’m ecstatic. You’ve given me, and
the entire kingdom of Hastings, a great gift this day.”

  Violet smiled and let her father kiss each of her cheeks. Then the king turned and gestured to the duke, who stood and faced him with a bow.

  “You, also, have given me a great gift this day,” he proclaimed in his most courtly manner. “It shall be as we agreed then, Thomas. You have tamed her. You may have Princess Violetta’s hand in marriage, with my blessing and my thanks.”

  It took Violet a moment to comprehend the words her father had said. She stared at him in shock, and reached for the back of her chair for balance. As we agreed? Her hand in marriage?

  The duke took a step closer and fixed her with an intent gaze. “I know you wish I was blonder, or shorter,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can only assure you I shall do my best to make you a better person every day.”

  She gawked at him, knowing precisely what he intimated with that comment. Her soul quailed and her bottom ached at the thought of all the spankings. Nightly spankings, daily spankings, every sort of spanking. The discipline parlor. The Handle...

  “But... papa...” she said weakly. “This is so…sudden.”

  “You’re of an age to marry,” he pointed out. “Past the age to marry. Is it really so sudden?”

  She let go of the chair and clasped her hands tightly together. “I don’t... I can’t...” She gave the elderly king a pleading look. “Shouldn’t we discuss this a little further before permanent plans are made?”

  “What is there to discuss? I see his improving influence upon you with my own two eyes. You’ve never looked brighter or happier, or been so at ease in your manners. The transformation is astonishing. What is there to consider, dear Violetta?”

  My sanity, she thought frantically. My future ability to sit down.

  The duke smiled at her father, then turned to her again. The monarch pretended not to notice the tension between the two of them, or perhaps he was too excited by the prospect of their marriage to care.