Page 12 of Papa's Captive
He had recently visited with his friend, Lord Grayson, and the man had imparted plenty of advice to him on how to properly take care of a little bride. William had had no idea of the existence of a place like Talcott House before Lord Grayson had become smitten with one of the little ladies in residence and married her, but once William had understood the particulars of the establishment and how the young ladies came from unfortunate backgrounds—nearly all of them orphans—he could not get the prospect of being Rosie’s husband and papa out of his mind. It had consumed him, but wanting to be a good papa, he’d sought the advice of Lord Grayson, who was now happily married to Rosie’s friend Cynny.
Lord Grayson had shared several bits of wisdom with William. First, it was important to make one’s little bride feel loved and cherished. Even if said bride was naughty, withholding affection, even in the face of impending chastisement, was not something Lord Grayson agreed with. William appreciated his friend’s insight, particularly when it came to rules and discipline. Lord Grayson said it was vital to set fair rules for a little girl, particularly rules pertaining to respect, safety, and health.
Though the idea of turning Rosie over his knee for a well-deserved spanking made his cock harden, he truly hoped some time passed before he had to administer real discipline. He wished for time to earn her trust and looked forward to getting to know her better.
He wanted to know all her secrets, wishes, and deepest desires. He wanted to know what made her so serious all the time, and he wanted to be the one to break down her barriers and make her laugh.
Like most of the residents of Talcott House, Rosie was an orphan. She had lived at Talcott House for only two years, having arrived shortly after the death of her parents. When he inquired about her life before her parents’ passing, she said she’d grown up in London and beyond that only offered vague responses, which made him wonder if she’d even had a traumatic childhood of sorts. Perhaps she’d known fear and hunger and cold. The very thought of her in a dire situation riled him, and he resolved to see to her every little comfort. He would spend each day doting on her as a loving papa should for the rest of their lives.
He hoped once she realized she was perfectly safe and loved beyond all measure, she would relax somewhat and the glimmer of worry that often entered her eyes would fade forever.
He hugged her tighter, inhaling the fragrant scent of her hair.
His heart leapt, even as his throat tightened with emotion. God, he loved her. She was the first thing he thought about when he awoke each morning, and the last thing he thought about before drifting to sleep each night. To think he would now spend his nights with Rosie in his arms filled him with happiness. Now her sweet face would be the first thing he saw when he awoke and the last thing he glimpsed before bed.
“Papa?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Are we going to ride straight through the night?”
He shook his head. “No. We’ll stop at an inn tonight, sleep for a few hours, and then be on the road again once the horses have had enough time to refresh. Are you hungry? I had Cook prepare a picnic for us,” he said, gesturing at a basket under the opposite seat.
She flushed. “Um, I’m not hungry yet. I-I was just wondering…” Her voice trailed off and her blush deepened.
He placed a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze. “What is it you are wondering, my dear? Tell Papa.”
Her eyes widened and she fidgeted in place, appearing adorably nervous. “Well, Papa, I was wondering about the…the…sleeping arrangements for tonight.”
“Ah, Rosie, you naughty little minx. Anxious to share my bed already?”
