Free The Officer's Little Rebel by Ava Sinclair

all.”

Chapter Eight: Lessons for Imogen
     
     
    It was an adjustment by degrees for Imogen. She’d realized in those exquisitely painful moments over Royce’s lap that she did not want to be anywhere else. Her desire for him was too strong. And she’d been wrong about him; he was not the arrogant man she thought him to be.
    He made good on his promise to have Nanny Quinn apologize for her condescending remarks. Of course, her apology came with a caveat. Miss Quinn was still her minder, and Imogen would have to obey or be spanked hard over the woman’s broad lap. But the nanny did seem appalled at learning she’d hurt her charge’s feelings, and her remorse was genuine.
    “Your papa’s heart is always in the right place,” Miss Quinn said one afternoon as she sat in the parlor brushing Imogen’s long hair. “Everything he does is for your comfort and safety. You don’t want to end up like poor Frozen Charlotte, do you?”
    Imogen turned to her nanny. “Who?”
    “Why, Frozen Charlotte…” Nanny Quinn reached into the pocket of her apron and withdrew a tiny bisque doll, which she placed in the palm of Imogen’s hand.
    “I got her from a friend who works in America as a nanny to a young woman in your situation. They are quite popular there, these little dolls. There’s a story that goes with them about a girl named Charlotte who neglected to listen to her papa when he told her to dress warmly for a sleigh ride. You see, she was quite keen for passersby to see her lovely frock, so she refused her wrap on her way to the ball. But it was to her peril. By the time she arrived, she was quite frozen.”
    Imogen’s eyes grew wide. “She died, then?”
    “Indeed she did.” Both women turned to hear an unfamiliar male voice. A tall, lean man with a hawkish nose and white blond hair stood in the doorway. “I’m familiar with this tale myself. It’s a cautionary one about the need to obey authority. You should keep that little doll with you at all times, child, and reflect on her should you feel the need to disobey.”
    Miss Quinn stood, chuckling. “Mr. Sutton, I presume,” she said.
    The man bowed his head cordially. “At your service.”
    “Ah, we’ve been expecting you.” Royce joined them now, and the man turned to shake hands with Imogen’s papa, who turned to her with a smile.
    “Imogen, this gentleman responded to the ad we placed for a tutor shortly after you arrived. We’ve been corresponding ever since, and he’s impressed both me and your nanny with his credentials. Your lessons shall begin today.”
    “So soon?” Imogen frowned.
    “Pish,” said the nanny. “You’ve been here a fortnight already. And remember, what your father desires for you is for your own good.”
    Imogen looked down at the little bisque doll and smiled as she dropped it into the pocket of her pinafore. “Yes, I suppose. And I am keen to learn my letters.”
    “Then you shall begin,” Royce said, then lifted his finger. “But remember, little Imogen, that this man is to be obeyed just as your nanny and I are to be obeyed. You are to listen, to be polite.”
    “I don’t expect she will be a problem,” Mr. Sutton said, smiling, and Imogen looked up at him, trying to determine the age of her instructor with his whitish hair but sharp, youthful features. “It would be a shame to use the cane on such a pretty little thing, no?”
    Imogen looked at her papa in shock. “You’d let another man cane me?”
    “Only in my presence,” he laughed. “And only if you’d warranted it. But I hardly believe that will be the case.”
    Imogen nodded. The notion of being corrected by another man filled her with trepidation, but the image in her mind of her papa watching… she shifted a little as her pussy responded to this possibility, and she quickly drove it from her mind.
    “I shall be very, very good,” she said.
    “Excellent,” Nanny said. “Then I shall leave you to it.”
    “As will I,” Royce said,