Page 40 of Papa's Captive
Chapter 18
Rosie needed to hurry.
She clutched the small box and peered over her shoulder at Craigmul Castle, her legs suddenly weakening with the realization she had already traveled much farther from the castle than Papa permitted. He’d told her she was allowed to walk in the garden, but she wasn’t allowed to venture beyond that. Like she was doing now—running toward the thick patch of forest that rested atop a steep hill.
Perhaps she ought to turn back. Rather than hide the box, she could simply toss the newspaper clippings in the fire. She gave a sigh of frustration, because she couldn’t quite bring herself to part with the articles. She believed her father innocent of the crime of treason, and she held a glimmer of hope that one day he would be vindicated. He might be long dead but she still loved him and wished for his name to be cleared. Mayhap in a few years she might be able to read the newspaper clippings and piece the puzzle together and explain how he’d been wrongly accused.
The trial had been swift and the prosecutor had seemed to truly hate both her and her father. Something about the prosecutor had never sat right with her. So she had kept the clippings and got them out every now and then, trying to read between the lines and praying one day she had an epiphany and discovered the one thing that would vindicate her late father.
But Papa could never, ever find them. Even though the chances of him discovering her secrets once they returned to London were strong—eventually, a friend or a neighbor would recognize her and inform him of her family’s shame. Then furtive whispers and judgemental stares would follow them everywhere they went.
Immense guilt caused her stomach to knot up, and she almost stopped in her tracks, but she found the will to continue and made her way into the thick of the forest. Once she found an acceptable hiding spot—in the dirt behind a rock that rested near a towering English oak tree—she dropped to her knees and dug hastily with her hands. She had been in such a hurry to run off while Papa took a bath this morning that she hadn’t dared to stop for a shovel. Besides, if any of the servants glimpsed her running off toward the woods with a shovel, it would likely rouse suspicion. Better for them to think her headed off on a carefree stroll, even if she’d done more running than strolling as she’d made her way up the steep hill.
Her heart pounded as she shoved the box in the hole. It was locked, and she decided to bury the key nearby, at the base of a cherry tree. There was a good chance she wouldn’t be able to find the key again, but she could always bust the box open at a later time.
Once she was finished, she rose and ambled to the edge of the trees and peered across the horizon in the direction of Craigmul Castle. She brushed her dirt-covered hands on her skirts and hoped she made it back to the estate in time to clean up before Papa finished with his bath. Her side ached from her fast run up the hill, but she tried to maintain a quick pace in her return. If Papa found her out, she would be in deep, deep trouble.
He’d only given her two punishment spankings during their short time together—one at the inn and one during her first bath time at the castle—but she had a feeling leaving his property without permission would displease him far more than her uncouth behavior with Lily and splashing water on the floor.
Gasping for air, she clutched her aching side and prayed Papa didn’t happen to look out the window and see her dashing across the landscape. A few more minutes and she would reach the castle. She tried to run faster but with her side aching worse by the second, she soon had to settle for a slow jog.
She glanced at the ground to keep herself from tripping on a formation of rocks, and when she looked up, she halted in her tracks and gasped. Papa was headed straight for her, rushing toward her with great haste. Even from this distance, she sensed his immense displeasure, felt the waves of anger rolling off him.
Her heart sank.
Oh God. What had she done?
She started walking and hung her head. There was no sense in running anymore. She’d been caught in her naughtiness and her bottom would surely pay the price. But even worse than knowing she likely had a very hard, very painful spanking coming her way, was the knowledge that she had broken her papa’s trust. She felt positively ill.
How would she explain herself? He would demand to know what she was about. How long had he been watching her? Did he know she’d ventured all the way to the forest?
When Papa reached her, he grabbed her and looked up and down her body, his gaze fixing on the mud she’d wiped on her dress. “Rosie, my God, what in the devil happened? Did you fall down? Did something chase you?” Worry immediately replaced the fury in his eyes, and despite the seriousness of her situation, she was touched that he was more focused on her well-being than her disobedience.
She lowered her head. “I am well, Papa, truly. I did not fall and nothing chased me.”
Some of the anger returned to his stare. His fingers dug into her flesh and he gave her a brief shake. “Then what were you doing? You ventured all the way to the forest? All by yourself and without permission? Not that I would have given permission for such an outing, in any case,” he said in a disbelieving tone, as if he couldn’t truly fathom what she’d done.
She could hardly fathom her actions herself. A vein in his temple pulsed and he glared at her for several moments, his lips opening and closing several times as he started to say something, only to change his mind. She’d never seen her papa so angry before, let alone tongue tied or at a loss for words.All my fault, she thought, as her guilt deepened.
“There-there are boars in the woods, Rosie! Boars! In fact, the locals frequently travel through with hunting parties in search of the deadly beasts,” he finally said, and his firm tone sent chills through her, as well as the meaning of his words.
She trembled in Papa’s grasp. Had she known boars resided in the forest, she would not have dared to venture near the treeline. Dread and regret caused an icy knot to form in her tummy. She wished with all her heart she could turn back time and undo her actions. Anything so her papa wouldn’t be so displeased with her.
“Well?” He gave her another shake. “What do you have to say for yourself? I’m waiting, Rosie, for an explanation, and I am quickly losing my patience.”
Tears burned in her eyes. She had never seen this side of Papa before. Had never incurred his wrath to such a severe degree. “Papa, I am sorry.” She blinked rapidly in an effort to stall her crying.
His eyes flashed and his jaw tightened. “Not as sorry as you’re about to be.” There was a cold, quiet finality to his tone that sent chills through her. He marched her into the castle and upstairs, a steady grip on her arm. Not quite bruising, but strong enough to hurt.
Once they reached his bedchamber, he guided her inside and locked the door behind them. Her tummy clenched at the sound of the lock clicking into place. She glanced around the room, tempted to try to run from Papa and hide. But even if she escaped his grasp, there was nowhere to go. She swallowed hard, past the burning in her throat, wishing there was something she could do or say to make it all better and diffuse Papa’s anger. Nothing came to mind.
He led her through the passage connecting their chambers and into her dressing room, where he lifted her onto the large stool she normally stood on while he dressed her. She pressed her lips together, not knowing what to say, as he took several deep breaths, obviously in an effort to calm himself, before he commenced removing every last stitch of her clothing. The muddied gown was soon tossed into a pile with her stockings, chemise, and drawers. Her dirty shoes rested next to the pile, and shame washed through her that she’d ruined the nice, expensive clothing and shoes Papa had so kindly given her.
To her surprise, he wrapped a dressing gown around her and lifted her off the stool. She had expected to be kept naked while he scolded and punished her, but she was glad for the robe. Though their bedchambers were warm, she had started shaking at some point after he’d caught her—she couldn’t remember exactly when—and her entire body trembled with the effects of her nervousness, leaving her with a cold feeling down to her very bones.
Would Papa ever forgive her?
Tears finally escaped her eyes.
