History Lessons Read online

  "I suppose Flora Nesbitt has positioned herself nicely in your good graces after blabbing to you that she saw me talking to my son's preschool teacher. Unlike everyone else here, I have a child and refuse to rely on some half-witted receptionist to contact me if he has some sort of accident or gets sick. That's why I kept my cell phone. And although I'm sure this doesn't matter, I had put it on vibrate." She paused. "In keeping with historical accuracy."

  "Are you finished?" he asked quietly.

  She nodded, semi-satisfied with herself for her pointed diatribe.

  "Then I'd like you to come here with me to the window."

  Lucy walked over, wondering what he wanted and watched as he pointed to the woods. From his window she could see the banks of bayberry bushes that edged the forest.

  "Mrs. Nesbitt didn't tell me you were on the phone," he said. "I saw you."

  Lucy suddenly wished she could fall through the floor.

  "Furthermore," he continued, his voice still quiet and level, "Had you bother to explain your reasons for needing your phone then perhaps I would have made an exception. At the very least I would have personally impressed upon our reception the importance I placed in your getting any message as regarded your child."

  Lucy didn't know what to say. She felt the heat of shame creep into her face as she stood there, feeling his eyes on her.

  "So what do you have to say for yourself, Miss Primm?"

  What could she say.

  "Are you going to fire me?" She looked up at him, the reality of her situation hitting her like a brick. "If your removing my demerit was conditional and I'm getting two more then I suppose I'm out of a job."

  "That's up to you."

  "How is it up to me?" she asked. "You're the boss, remember?"

  "Oh, I haven't forgotten," he said. "And as you know, I take great pride in running Hartford House as it was run when it as built by Jackson Hartford. Do you know how he would have handled an impertinent servant who insisted on defying him twice in one week?"

  Lucy shook her head. She knew little about the man whose portrait hung in the parlor other than he had white hair and dark, piercing eyes.

  "Come now," he prompted. "I think you do. In fact, Miss Primm, I believe I heard you discussing with your co-worker - Missy Curtis I believe - exactly what appropriate punishment you could expect from the head of household."

  Lucy's mind raced back to the conversation she'd had with Missy during lunch - the conversation she'd later worried that Mr. Ellis had overheard. They'd joked that Mr. Ellis might handle things the old-fashioned way, with a trip to the woodshed.

  "People don't do that anymore," she said, a knot of fear and something else undefined turning in her belly.

  "I do," he said.

  "You can't," Lucy said, her tone as definitive as she could make it.

  "Very well then," he said and walked to his desk. "You're fired."

  Lucy felt a surge of panic. Fired. How would she make it. What would she do? She had just enough cash on hand to last her a week. And after that, with the job market being so depressed and no way to move...

  "I can't lose my job," Lucy said.

  He didn't look up, but merely busied himself by writing something in his address book.

  "Didn't you hear me?" Lucy asked, her voice quaking now. "Mr. Ellis, I have a son who depends on me. I'm not like these spoiled little interns who consider work here some sort of hobby or some kind of summer craft camp. I need this job."

  "Do you?" he asked and looked up at her.

  A tear slipped from her eye. "Yes," she said. "So pl...please don't fire me."

  He put the quill down.

  "If you want to keep your job, you'll have to agree to another type of penalty. I think you know what that is."

  Lucy couldn't believe this was happening, even as he motioned to the cane leaning against the wall by the door.

  "If you want to keep your job, Miss Primm, you'll fetch that cane, hand it to me, position yourself over the desk and submit - sans theatrics - to six strokes. Afterwards, of course, I expect you to be discreet about our arrangement. I wouldn't extend this chance to everyone, but you are otherwise a good employee and I'm not without sympathy for your plight as a single mother."

  "You're serious," she said.

  "I am." He looked up at her. "And now you must decide if you want to keep your job. You have three minutes."

  Three minutes? Three minutes to decide between an uncertain future for herself and her son or a few taps on the bottom through her skirts? How bad could it hurt? True, it was an awkward choice nonetheless, but it wasn't hard.

  "Six?" she asked.

  He was looking down at the book again. Six.

  "Over my skirts?" she asked.

  "Not that I'm negotiating, but yes. Over your skirts. It is your first offense, after all."

  Six. Over her skirts. Lucy turned and took a deep breath as she picked up the cane. Returning to the desk, she handed it to Mr. Ellis as he stood. He looked much taller now.

  "Let's get this over with," she said, hoping her tone conveyed how silly she thought this was. She felt embarrassed as she bent over. This man was a freak, but if a few taps on her bottom through all this fabric would let her keep her job then ---.

  "OW!" She heard the swish a split second before the cane laid its stinging bite through the skirt and across her bottom and it was a genuinely surprised Lucy who wheeled to face Mr. Ellis, her hands rubbing her backside through the skirt.

  Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him. "That hurt!"

  Mr. Ellis whipped the cane through the air. "Yes," he said dispassionately. "A cane has a brutal sting. That's what makes it such an effective implement. Now please get back into position."

  "No!" she cried, as if she couldn't believe he'd ask her. "I don't want to! One was enough. I swear. I won't do it again."

  "The agreement was six." He tapped the desk with the cane. "Either bend back over the desk, Miss Primm, or I'll give you your letter of dismissal. I'm in no mood to have my time wasted a moment longer."

  Lucy didn't want to obey, but again the spectre of poverty loomed large over her, and so she turned and laid back down over the desk.

  SWISH! THWACK!

  A little scream escaped her list and she tried to pop up, only to feel a strong, broad hand press into the small of her back.

  "No!"

  But he would not listen.

  "SWISH! THWACK! SWISH! THWACK! SWISH! THWACK!"

  The blows were rapid and now it felt like a hive of bees had stung her through her clothes in a series of angry, criss-crossed lines. Lucy wasn't aware that she'd put her hands back until Mr. Ellis instructed her to move them.

  "Unless, of course, you'd like to start over from one."

  "Oh, god, no!" Lucy sobbed the words as she forced her shaky hands to the desk, biting down on one knuckle as the last blow of the cane fell low on her bottom just above her thighs.

  SWISH! THWACK!

  She bobbed up and down but held her place, and when Mr. Ellis gave her permission to rise her face was streaked with tears.

  How could it have hurt so bad, she wondered? She'd thought he'd give her a few cursory strikes to make a point, but Mr. Ellis had hit her with such painful force that she knew she would not sit the next day.

  "There, there," he said. "Come over here and calm down."

  He led her by the arm and before she knew it, Lucy was facing the corner and looking up at him questioningly.

  "It's just as you suspect," he said. "You're now required to stand here and reflect on rules and the importance of them."

  "How long?"

  "Until I say so," he replied and walked away, his buckled shoes audible against the floor as he went.

  Lucy wasn't sure how long she stood there, but she did as she was told and wondered silently why she'd not just done as he'd suggested and come to talk to him. If she had, she'd be home with her son now, not standing in a corner following the most bizarre workplace
reprimand she'd ever had.

  "Lucy, you're free to go."

  She was surprised to hear him call her by her first name and turned to see him standing by the door. She walked over, dropping to a curtsy on shaky legs.

  "Good girl," he said. "You were very brave and you won't be disobedient again, will you? Because I think you are far better than your behavior implies."

  "No sir," she said.

  "Then you are free to go."

  And Lucy went, walking away as quickly as she could. She didn't look back, even though she wanted to. For while the spanking had embarrassed her, it wasn't nearly as embarrassing as her unexplainable desire to turn and go back to he man who'd given it to her.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy arrived early for work the next morning. After the caning she'd received from her boss Warren Ellis, the last thing she wanted to do was incur his anger again.

  "Hi!"

  Lucy turned as she was changing to see Missy walk in.

  "How was your ride in the Tardis?"

  Lucy couldn't help but smile. Leave to Missy to lift her mood with a reference to Dr. Who's time machine.

  "Bumpy," Lucy said.

  "Well I'm just glad you're here," Missy replied. "I was worried you'd been fired but when I saw your name was still up on the assignment board I figured you'd just gotten a good talking to."

  Lucy looked down. "Yeah..."

  Missy, who could change into period garb faster than anyone Lucy had ever worked with walked over now, tying her cap beneath her chin.

  "I tried to call you last night," she said. "Why didn't you answer?"

  "Sorry," Lucy sighed. "I just didn't feel like talking."

  "So what happened?"

  How could Lucy answer? She could hardly say, "Well, he bent me over his desk and hit me with a cane across my bottom until I was in tears."

  "Like I said, he just scolded me." Lucy put her own cap on and looked in the mirror. Her eyes were no longer red from crying, which she'd done off and on the night before. The spanking had left her confused and frustrated and embarrassed. He'd hurt her, humiliated her. So why didn't she hate Warren Ellis.

  "Hey, it's a new day. That's what counts," she said, turning to Missy. "And I do believe we're supposed to go pick even more bayberries. Seems we didn't get enough yesterday."

  Missy rolled her eyes.

  "So stupid," she said. "Those things are half the size of a pea and I have blisters on my fingers from picking them."

  "We'll try a different technique today," Lucy suggested. She picked up an old blanket. "We'll shake the berries off onto this."

  The two women walked out of the door into the misty morning air, but stopped suddenly as they encountered Mr. Ellis on the walk.

  "Lucy, Michelle."

  "Missy," Lucy's friend corrected.

  "I prefer Michelle," he countered. "It's the name listed on your employment papers.

  Missy cast a sidelong glance at Lucy but said nothing.

  "Off to pick berries then?"

  "Yes." Lucy held up the basket and the blanket. "We're going to try and shake them off today."

  "It may help if you beat them loose," he said. "I have a cane in my office if you'd like to borrow it."

  "No!" Lucy nearly shouted the word, earning her a curious look from her friend.

  She immediately flushed. "No," she repeated in a quieter tone. "That won't be necessary."

  "I'm sure we can find a large stick or something," Missy said, still looking at Lucy as she took her arm. "But thanks anyway, Mr. Ellis." She bowed and Lucy hastily did the same before turning away.

  "What was that all about?" Missy asked.

  "What?"

  "You got all weird."

  "No I didn't." Lucy lengthened her stride, leaving the weathered brick walkway now to make her way down the grassy hill towards the grove of bayberry trees.

  "Yes you did!"

  Lucy rounded on her. "Missy!" She paused, closing her eyes. "Please. I don't want to talk about it."

  Missy stood for a moment before turning to walk after her friend.

  "Did he threaten you somehow yesterday, Lucy?"

  "No."

  "Did he hurt you?"

  "No! And I don't want to talk about him or my problems with work anymore, OK?"

  Missy scowled but dropped the subject as the two entered the bayberry grove. Lucy handed her the blanket and instructed her friend to spread it under one of the trees while she went to search for a stick.

  She peeked through the branches towards the house. Mr. Ellis' window could clearly be seen from where she was. Lucy thought she saw a shape behind the glass. Was he watching her? If so, why?

  Why was this happening to her? She was a hard worker, but for some reason she'd been singled out by this tall, mysterious man.

  "Do you have that stick yet?" Missy's voice came to her through the trees.

  "Still looking!"

  Lucy knelt and began searching for a stick thick enough to whack the berries off the trees without breaking. She picked up a branch and found herself looking at it. Back when these grounds were teaming with the founding families of Hartford House, a stick like this - slightly less thick than Lucy's thumb - was an acceptable disciplinary tool for a wayward child, wife or servant.

  Lucy tried to imagine what it would be like if she was about two hundred years in the past instead of in the present. When her friend asked her what had happened she would have no doubt shrugged and said, "He beat me." And Missy would have offered her some word of comfort but would have not been shocked.

  They would have gone about their work, just as they were doing now. She'd have the same clean slate. The only difference was that she wouldn't feel so confused and embarrassed that she'd not only been spanked but found a sort of ....comfort in it. It would have just been another part of life.

  "Lucy!" Missy called to her in an exasperated voice.

  "Got it." Lucy picked up another, slightly thicker branch and made her way over to where Missy had spread the blanket under the tree.

  They took turns beating the berry-laden branches, dislodging the waxy leaves along with the tiny, hard berries.

  "This sucks." Missy dropped down and they began to pick the leaves out of their fallen berries.

  "Yeah, but people used to do this kind of thing all the time."

  "Well they sucked," Missy said, and Lucy giggled.

  It took them two hours to fill the basket. Their arms were aching as they made their way back to the house, where they delivered the berries to Mrs. Nusbaum, who volunteered three days a week helping out with various crafts.

  "Hello dears," she said to the younger women, who nodded and smiled.

  "Missy," she said. "I believe you're working with me this afternoon."

  "No," she said. "I'm supposed to go do that tour thing this afternoon."

  "You were," Mrs. Nusbaum said. "But Mr. Ellis made a change in the schedule. He just came down to let us know. You're working with me. Lucy is supposed to go up to his office."

  "For what?"

  "He didn't say," Mrs. Nusbaum said, inspecting the berries as she spoke. "He just told me to give you the message when you returned."

  "All right." Lucy turned and walked through the kitchen and to the stairs. The old wood creaked as it always did on the ninth step. When she got to Mr. Ellis' office his door was closed.

  She knocked.

  "Come in."

  Lucy pushed it open and stuck her head inside. "You wanted to see me?"

  Mr. Ellis stood from his chair and looked at her, almost as if surprised she had actually answered his summons. This struck Lucy as odd. For a man so self-assured, something about him struck her as socially awkward.

  "Yes," he said. "Come in, Lucy and sit down."

  Lucy walked over to the heavy wooden chair in front of his desk. She'd avoided sitting since the caning he'd given her and now lowered herself reluctantly but obediently into the chair.

  She could feel him studying
her face as she sat down.

  "Yesterday..." he began.

  "....is something I'd rather not talk about," she said. "So there's no need for you to apologize if that's why you brought me here."

  "It's not."

  She looked up at Mr. Ellis to find his face stern.

  "The master of a house never apologizes for his decision to discipline a member of his household."

  Lucy's instincts told her to keep quiet, which was why she was surprised she could not stop the words that came from her lips.

  "Perhaps," she said. "But you are not the master of this house, Mr. Ellis. You are a paid employee of the foundation that owns it. As am I."

  She held her breath, expecting him to react in anger, but instead he simply smirked and walked over to the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

  "You've a high spirit," he said. "I detected that the first day."

  She turned in her chair. "I speak my mind. I'm not some simple laborer, Mr. Ellis. Before I came here I worked as a researcher in..."

  "That doesn't interest me," he said sharply. "As I told you, when you are at Hartford House the only past I'm interested in is the one we are recreating."

  "Of course," she said.

  "Are you being insubordinate with me?" he asked, turning towards her. "Again?"

  "No sir, Mr. Ellis," Lucy said. "I am not. But if I may wonder aloud why you called me here. You still haven't told me."

  "I'm restructuring things," he said. "And I was looking at your file this morning and realized you'd be perfect as the head of the household maids."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Is there something wrong with your hearing?" he asked.

  "No," Lucy said. "It's just that...well, yesterday you were ready to fire me until..And today you are offering to put me in a position of responsibility?" She couldn't help but feel suspicious and she knew she looked it. "Why?"

  "Because, Miss Primm," he said. "Yesterday you showed me that despite my misgivings you possess the one quality I find most beneficial in staff?"

  "And what is that?"

  "Respect for a chain of command," he said. "I have a strong feeling that after our little 'chat' yesterday you will not question my authority nor undermine it. If I give an order, I believe you more than anyone will understand the importance of seeing that it is carried out."