Page 35 of Papa's Rules
Chapter Thirteen
Cammie stood, naked and ashamed, in the corner of Papa’s library, trembling and filled with more regret than she’d ever known. What had she been thinking? Papa was so angry with her. She’d broken his trust. Would he ever forgive her?
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sniffled. Behind her, she heard papers being shuffled and drawers being closed. She’d been in such a hurry to leave and find Robert that she hadn’t taken time to clean up the mess she’d made, and now Papa was straightening up after her carelessness. He hadn’t said much during the carriage ride home, but she’d felt the anger radiating off him. She was so upset over having disappointed him that she almost didn’t care how he punished her. But his next words made her blood run cold.
“You will receive a spanking followed by a dose of the strap.”
“Papa?” she asked tearfully, not daring to turn around yet. He hadn’t given her permission to move.
“You know what you did wrong, young lady. We promised to be honest with one another, but you failed to tell me you saw your brother last week in the hat shop. Then you plotted to leave the manor in secret, to meet your brother after years apart and not even knowing what kind of man he’d turned into. He could have hurt you. Or you could have run into trouble on the street. God, Cammie, you could have been robbed or worse. Did it not occur to you how close you might have been to a tragic ending?”
A sob built in her throat and she trembled harder. He was right. She had been secretive and impulsive and put herself in danger, not to mention worried her Papa. She hadn’t expected him to come home early today and couldn’t imagine what he’d initially thought when he discovered she’d stolen from him and run off.
“I’m so sorry, Papa,” she said, forcing the words out. Her throat burned so fiercely with emotion that each syllable was a challenge. “And I’m sorry for stealing from you.”
“Christ, Cammie. I don’t care about the money. What is mine is yours.” He grabbed her and spun her around, out of the corner. His face was etched in lines of fury, her brows drawn together and his jaw clenched. “Are you allowed to leave this house without permission?”
“No, Papa.”
“Are you allowed to keep secrets from me?”
Her lips quivered. “No-no, Papa.”
“Are you allowed to put yourself in danger?” His eyes blazed, his nostrils flared, and he tightened his hold on her shoulders.
She parted her lips and tried to answer, but her voice failed her. She buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. She wept for her mistakes. She wept for all the years she’d wondered about Robert’s fate and her relief that he wasn’t still living on the streets. But most of all, she wept for how badly she had scared her Papa and caused him to worry about her. He was correct, of course. Venturing off by herself in London had been stupid. She’d gotten lost once and had to ask for directions. Luckily, the two passersby had been kind and helpful, pointing her down the right street. But Papa had spent over an hour in a state of panic as he searched for her.
A horrible thought suddenly struck her. She uncovered her face and peered at him.
“I hope you didn’t think I was leaving you, Papa! Oh, I would never do such a thing!”
He tensed, but some of the anger left his eyes. “I won’t lie to you. The thought crossed my mind, Cammie, though I found myself at a loss for a reason. You-you are happy living here and being my wife and my little girl, are you not?”
“I’m very happy here with you, Papa. I swear it. I love you with all my heart. I would never leave you, and I’m so sorry for everything today. I-I know broke a lot of important rules and I deserve the harshest punishment.”
He loosened his grip on her shoulders and his expression relaxed. She knew he was still displeased with her, but the scary angry look had dispersed from his gaze.
“I love you too, Cammie, and that is why I must ensure you never put yourself in danger again. That is the worst rule you could ever break. If something happened to you, I…I can’t even bear the thought of it. You are my world, little girl.” He cupped the side of her face.
She leaned into his touch, soaking up his affection. She resolved to follow his orders during her punishment and not beg for leniency, no matter how much it hurt. A tingle raced across her bottom and her cheeks clenched, but the desire she often felt while Papa scolded her or threatened chastisement was absent. The situation was too grave, and she was simply too distraught over her actions to feel anything but a deep desperation to mend the rift between them.
All she wanted was for Papa to smile at her again. To hold her and tell her she was his good girl. More tears spilled over and she sniffled for the umpteenth time. She glanced around his library, noting that he’d set everything back to rights. Papa liked to keep things in perfect order.
He dropped his hand from her face and led her toward his desk. He’d laid her dress and underthings over a nearby chair, and she gave a mournful glance at the garments, wishing she weren’t entirely naked. She’d never been punished over Papa’s big grown up desk before, and the formality of being led, while not wearing a stitch of clothing, to his desk where a leather strap rested, made her tummy flutter with fresh nerves.
“Over the desk, young lady.” He brought her in front of the desk and guided her to bend down.
She placed her hands on the hard surface, following his direction. He stepped back and she felt his eyes on her. She heard him walk away and wondered what he was doing, but he soon returned and lifted her high enough to place a pillow he’d taken from the sofa between her stomach and the desk. His kindness—that he would endeavor to ensure her comfort even while he thrashed her—made her feel all the worse for the worry she’d caused him.
“I’ve scolded you enough,” he said quietly. “I believe you understand what you’ve done wrong, and I know that you are sorry for it, but I’m afraid I still cannot go easy on you during this punishment, Cammie.” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for his words to sink in. “I hope that I never have to punish you this severely again, and it is my hope that you’ll think twice before you behave in such an impulsive manner again.”
He stood close to her and placed a steadying hand on her lower back. She resisted the urge to clench her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she prayed for the strength to not make a fool of herself and beg him to go easy on her.
He gave her bottom a squeeze and a second later cracked his palm across her flesh.
She gasped but remained still, with her bottom raised up to accept each searing smack he gave her. He continued on for some time, slapping first her left cheek, then her right one, and even striking the tender tops of her thighs. She started sobbing again, but she didn’t ask him to stop, and she certainly didn’t ask him to spare the strap.
Fire blazed across her bottom cheeks and upper thighs. She gasped when he applied a series of especially hard swats to the lower curve of her behind. By some miracle, she managed to keep her feet planted on the floor.
