Page 3 of Papa's Rules
Cammie’s heart fluttered and a funny feeling warmed her lower parts. A papa! She had been wanting a papa ever since she came to Talcott House and Miss Wickersham and the other girls explained to her about how every little girl got to have a papa of her very own someday. Papas were special men who would love and care for their little girls, but also be their husbands and help them to make babies of their very own, too. It had sounded like a dream come true to Cammie. She had even accused some of her housemates of making up tales to tease her because she was new. But, she was soon assured by none other than Miss Wickersham that it was all very true. Miss Wickersham worked very hard to find precisely the right papa for each of her girls.
And now Miss Wickersham had a papa just for her. Her heart fell into her shoes. After waiting all this time, what if she did not like her papa? Or what if he did not care for her?
“Cammie,” Miss Wickersham said, leaning toward her, “I thought you would be happy at this news, but you do not appear to be so. Do you not appreciate that I have found a papa and selected you out of all my girls to be his bride?”
“Oh, yes, Miss Wickersham, I am exceedingly grateful. But,”—She paused trying to put together all of the confusing thoughts flying through her brain—”I will be sad to leave here. And...what if he does not care for me?”
“Ah, I see why you are worried, but never fear, Miss Wickersham is here. I have met with your new papa and talked with him very extensively about you...”
Cammie gasped and felt her face heat. “Really? What did you say?”
“I told him you were a very well-behaved young lady who is sometimes easily distracted. Is that not correct?”
“Yes,” Cammie said with a giggle. Happiness bubbled up inside her, and she thought she might float around the room. A papa!
“Please, tell me all about my new papa. When can I meet him? Is he handsome?” She had always imagined a very handsome papa for herself whenever the girls talked about it. Dark and brooding, but he would smile and cuddle her to his strong chest, because he was the best papa ever. And she would be the very best little girl, ever. She was sure of it.
“His name is Lord Cavendish and when you are married, you will become Lady Cavendish.”
Cammie gasped. “A lady!”
“Yes, a real lady.”
“Miss Wickersham”—Cammie threw herself into the arms of her teacher—“you have made all my dreams come true. When may I meet him?”
Miss Wickersham pried the girl’s arms from around her neck and returned her to her seat. “We will leave in two days’ time,” she said. “That will give you an opportunity to pack your things, to say good-bye to your friends and —”
“Ohhhh,” Cammie cried. “Will I never see Hyacinth or Daisy or Rosie again?”
“Cammie.” Miss Wickersham turned strict. “It is rude to interrupt when someone is speaking. If you are to become Lady Cavendish, you must curb your outbursts.” She pointed to the corner where a hard wooden stool was perched. “Go to the naughty chair for your impertinence and when you have finished, then we will continue our discussion, but only if you are able to hold your tongue.”
“But what about my papa?” Minimally obedient, Cammie stood and made her way to the appointed punishment, but she dragged her feet and kicked the stool once she reached it. “I want to know about my papa!”
Miss Wickersham, always efficient and sparing in her movements, navigated the short distance between herself and Cammie in record time, taking her firmly by the shoulder and, while holding Cammie at arm’s length, rapidly applied three swift swats of a ruler to her backside. “Now, sit and be quiet or you will force me to spank you on the bare. How do you think Lord Cavendish will feel about a bride who arrives with a reddened bottom because she cannot behave herself properly?”
“Oh,” Cammie said after Miss Wickersham released her arm. “I apologize, Miss Wickersham,” she said softly as she climbed upon the stool. “But, I want to meet my papa sooo badly.”
“An apology that includes the word ‘but’ is no apology at all, as well you have been told, Miss Camellia. I had great hopes for you and Lord Cavendish, but now I must reconsider. Perhaps you need additional lessons before you can be trusted to represent Talcott House amongst society. Once you leave here, your actions will reflect on everyone at Talcott House, and if you misbehave, it will make us all very sad and embarrassed. It might make it more difficult for me to find papas for all the girls here. You do not want to do that, do you?”
“No, Miss Wickersham,” she said to the corner, eyes straight ahead, though her vision blurred from the as yet unshed tears forming in her eyes. Miss Wickersham would not really send another girl to be her papa’s bride, would she? Cammie’s heart weighed heavy in her chest and she clasped her hands together in her lap, her right leg swinging against the leg of the stool. Her bottom stung slightly in the aftermath of Miss Wickersham’s firm application of the ruler, and she squirmed a bit on the chair in an effort to alleviate her discomfort.
“Stop moving and be quiet.” Miss Wickersham set a book upon Cammie’s head, forcing her to keep it level and be still. “Use this time to think about how to be a proper bride for Lord Cavendish and how to make me proud of you. When your time is up, if you have done as I have instructed, I will tell you all I know about your papa.”
Cammie nodded her head, not daring to speak, but she had already forgotten about the book, and it slipped off her head and landed on the floor with a thud. Miss Wickersham retrieved it with an exasperated sigh and returned it to its place atop Cammie’s braids.
Staring at the paint on the wall in front of her, Cammie thought about all the other times she had been called into Miss Wickersham’s study and placed in the naughty chair. Being a good girl could be so hard sometimes. Her new papa would want her to behave herself and be the best little girl she could, but, she wondered, would she really be able to do it? Plus, she had heard whispers among the girls that papas and their girls shared the same bed. Why would a papa do that unless he wanted to keep an eye on her at all times, just to be sure she did not misbehave? Either she would learn to be a good girl or she would disappoint her papa.
Would her papa punish her for being bad, the way Miss Wickersham and sometimes some of the other staff at Talcott House did?
She got a funny feeling in her down there parts when she thought about her papa giving her a punishment, like a spanking or a scolding. Did he have a naughty chair like Miss Wickersham? An excited shiver ran up her spine. She imagined how he would use his gruff voice when he was upset with his little bride and would look at her down the length of his nose. She felt her toes curling inside her shoes just thinking about it.
Her own papa. She could scarce believe it. All her years at Talcott House she had been told that one day she would have a papa. Every few months one of the older girls would leave to meet her papa and everyone who stayed behind watched the carriage go out the long driveway. Cammie always felt a little jealous of the girl who got a papa, but also a little relieved that she still had time to play with her friends in the gardens and to get hugs and cuddles from Miss Wickersham when she behaved properly and made her happy.
But she had to admit that of late, she had developed yearnings. They were vague and she did not understand what they meant, but she suspected they related to the things that married people did together. The things that some of the girls whispered about when none of the staff at Talcott House were around.
Heated excitement wound through her body. Soon she would know what until then, had only been whispered about.
