Rupert chose a small, unpretentious Italian restaurant in London for his desperately important meeting with Lucinda. He had, as my readers will by now have realised, an old head on young shoulders. So many other rich young men in his position would have attempted to impress by opting for a glamorous restaurant or night club. Those who, like him, were members of the House of Lords, might even have chosen the Palace of Westminster. But Rupert knew that his chances depended on trying to get Lucinda to forget, at least for an evening, about the incredible privileges to which he had been born. She must look upon him simply as a man who adored her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He could have used the Rolls Royce and the estate's chauffeur, but that would also have been a mistake. They travelled to London by train (second class) and took a taxi from Waterloo Station to the restaurant. He had booked the table in his family name of Truman. He had even gone to the trouble of withdrawing cash to pay for the meal, so that he would not have to produce a cheque bearing the name Earl of Guildford and risk the bowing and scraping in which that usually resulted.
The train journey took just over half an hour. Rupert made no mention of his real purpose in taking her out. Instead, he talked enthusiastically of how the plans for the school were progressing. She was as fired by the project as he was. She had already worked as Matron at the school's old premises, though only for one term. As a result, she was as aware as he was of the shortcomings of the old regime. She had seen the middle-aged and elderly masters at close quarters, and she had not, generally speaking, been impressed. When Rupert had first told her of his intentions he had explained his conviction that what was desperately needed was a hard core of young masters who would be likely to be more in tune with the ways of prep school boys. She had, not for the first time, been amazed at his prescience. Now, he was explaining his wish to recruit at least two more girls to act as her under-matrons. She, being an essentially selfless girl, had not complained of the incredible burden of work which fell on her shoulders. Once again, he had worked out the problem for himself. When he said, as the train was passing through Clapham Junction, that he very much hoped that she would assist him by interviewing the applicants for the jobs, she marvelled, yet again, at the trust she was placing in him.
In the taxi, he asked her about the standard of the meals provided to the boys. She grimaced as she described the unappetising concoctions they were expected to eat. He said he had guessed as much, and would she very much mind taking on the task of recruiting a new head cook (fortunately the previous one had indicated that she did not wish to travel to the school's new premises). As with the engaging of the new under-matrons, she jumped at this opportunity to help.
They ordered simple pasta starters and both chose the risotto for the main course. Rupert was tempted by some of the grander looking wines on the wine list, but he stuck to his resolve that the evening should be a modest one. He ordered a carafe of the house white.
After they toasted the success of the project, Rupert asked her what other changes she would like to see at the school. She did not hesitate to answer. There had been one aspect of the school which, from almost the first day, she had deeply disliked. Now was her chance to persuade him that her opinion on the point was a valid one.
"Well, you will probably say that this isn't something which someone in my position should comment on".
"I hope", he quickly interrupted her, "that you realise by now that I value your opinion on absolutely every aspect of the school."
"All right, I'll take you at your word. There's one thing that I think is very bad and that's the way the younger boys are disciplined. Don't get me wrong, I've no objection to corporal punishment", as she said that he smiled at his recollection of the incident which had first brought them together, "it's just that I don't think it should be necessary to use it quite so often and with quite such severity. The first year boys are only eight years old, for goodness sake. But some of those geriatric masters don't seem to have taken that on board. Most don't cane the first years, but some do and those who don't swing their gym shoes as if they were punishing delinquent teenagers, not small boys who have got over excited." She paused to see how her revolutionary ideas were being received. She was relieved to note that Rupert was not displaying any sign of disagreement so far. She went on to give her proposed solution to the problem.
"I'd be prepared to bet that very few, if any, of the first year boys get more than the odd spanking at home", for American readers I should explain that the word "spanking" in England is restricted to the application of a hand to the buttocks. "But I know that if I report an eight year old boy to the duty master for talking after lights out, he is going to end up being thrashed with a gym shoe, or even, with some of the masters, with a cane. I'm sorry, but I think that is an over reaction. The result is that I often let the boys off with a reprimand. And that is not good because it encourages them to think that I am a soft touch. But, quite frankly, it is better than the only alternative. There is no more depressing sight, I can assure you, than some small boy's little bottom after three strokes of the cane. And I have even seen slipper bruises days after a boy has been punished." She paused again. She didn't want to go too far and destroy any chance of doing some good. "Well, how am I doing so far?"
"You haven't said anything with which I would disagree yet. So what do you suggest we do about it?"
"Well, I know you can't yet control what goes on in the class rooms, but there's no reason why you shouldn't make some changes elsewhere. What I would like to see is more use of things like lines and punishment runs for the younger boys. And when it comes to whacking them", this was the area where she feared some disagreement, "I don't see why they shouldn't be treated as they would be at home."
"Meaning?", he asked.
"Meaning that if I send a first year boy to you or one of your new young masters and you decide that corporal punishment is necessary, I don't see why you shouldn't at least consider just smacking him, rather than beating him with an implement. Of course", she hurried on, "I'm not saying that you should never use a slipper, although I would rather it was a genuine slipper not a gym shoe, but I'm convinced that, in most cases, a good spanking would be enough to teach the boy his lesson." She held her breath and waited for his protestations. But they did not come. He was thinking carefully about what she had said. Now he gave his opinion.
"This may surprise you, but my thoughts have been running on very similar lines. I think we both have to accept that one of the most important jobs of the prep school is to toughen up young boys in preparation for public school regimes. But I agree that that doesn't mean that we have to punish the younger ones as if they were already at their public schools. We've got plenty of time to acclimatise them to stricter discipline as they go up the school. So, I agree that we need to do something. You will be even more surprised when I tell you that my own plans are rather more radical than yours".
She raised her eyebrows as she wondered what more radical proposal he might have. She knew that there were some schools which had given up corporal punishment altogether, but she couldn't believe that Rupert, whom she knew had taken over disciplining his own younger brothers when their father had died, would dream of going that far. Neither, to be fair to her, did she think that such a drastic step would be sensible. He continued to explain his proposal.
"Moving from home to a boarding school at the age of seven or eight is a pretty big upheaval for a boy. Until then, most of them will have been looked after, mostly, by women, mothers and nannies. Of course, they will also have been subject to some male discipline, but, on the whole, their day to day supervision has been in the hands of females. But then, suddenly, they find themselves in what is essentially an all male environment, subject to harsh discipline administered by men, many of whom have lost their more gentle instincts after years of teaching hundreds of boys. So what I want to do is to give primary responsibility for discipline, for all first and second year boys, to my brilliant matron. I think you should be the one who makes the main decisions about punishments. I want to see you, and your under-matrons under your supervision, giving lines and sending boys on runs. I want to see you deciding whether any particular case merits corporal punishment. And, in many cases, I want it to be you, or your under-matrons, who administer it. Take the case of the boy who talks after lights out and who has been given lines for the same offence on a previous occasion. He obviously needs a step up in punishment to try to reign him in. Well, I don't see why you should not put that boy across your knee, take his pyjama bottoms down and give him a good spanking. That won't be enough in every case. There are bound to be occasions when you consider that a boy needs to be punished by a man. But I think it should be you who decides. If you do decide to send a boy to a master, he can then decide whether to give a spanking himself, or to resort to a slipper. I am not going formally to abolish the cane for first and second year boys. I think that would send out the wrong message, but I intend to instruct our new young masters that they should never use the cane on boys that young. In the unlikely event of a master thinking that the cane may be necessary, he will be required to send the boy to me and I will make the final decision. If and when that happens I will only use the cane as a very last resort. I will be much more likely to use a slipper or, in a bad case, a gym shoe."
Rupert was conscious that he had been speaking for too long. He stopped and waited for Lucinda's reaction. She took a moment or two to absorb his startling plan. Then she spoke.
"Well", she began hesitantly, "I must say I had never thought of the possibility of my spanking the boys. That takes a bit of getting used to as an idea." She smiled before going on, "I'll let you into a secret. The only time I have ever thought of spanking a boy was a time when you and I were in the park playground. You won't remember it, you were 13 and I was 11. It was a week after you had discovered that Daddy sometimes spanked me. You were on the climbing frame. You were wearing rather tight jeans and I looked up and saw your bum. I remembered that you told me you were also spanked. I just had this sudden thought that it would be really quite good fun to put you over my knee and smack your bottom. There, that's shocked you, hasn't it?", and she reddened slightly as she thought that it might indeed have shocked him. But he was chuckling to himself and he, too, smiled broadly as he replied.
"If it's confession time, I suppose I'd better let you into a little secret too. You obviously remember that time I visited your parents and you were being spanked by your father".
"How could I forget? I was mortified. The most attractive boy in the county had heard me being soundly punished. But you were very nice about it afterwards".
"Yes, well I had to be. You see, I didn't just hear it. As I passed the drawing room door I glanced in and I got a glimpse of the most beautiful little pink bottom, just as your father's hand was about to descend again. It's hardly the most romantic story, but I have to admit that that moment was the one at which I suddenly realised that you were my idea of perfection in a girl. That's why I hung around outside in the hope that you would come out. I'm sorry to have to say it, but for ages after that I used to lie in bed at night picturing you over your father's knee. I hasten to say", he laughed as he went on, "it didn't take me long to realise that there were many more attractive aspects to you than having a beautifully spankable bottom. But if I hadn't had that split second vision, I am sure that my life would now be entirely different." He, too, worried that his confession might be taken the wrong way, but he was delighted to see her face had widened into a broad grin.
"You naughty boy", she said, "now I wish I had spanked you in the park that day. You certainly deserved it."
"I certainly did, but I am afraid I might have enjoyed it rather too much. Fortunately, I think that our first and second year boys are a little too young to see the more sensual side of being over your knees for a spanking."
"You'd be surprised at how advanced some of them are, but I think I could probably inflict enough pain to ensure that their main thoughts would be of avoiding a repeat performance. I'd just have to imagine that it was thirteen year old Rupert whose bottom I was walloping."
"So that means you agree?".
"Yes, I agree, at least for a trial period".
"Wonderful, and you could always practise on me if you're not sure how to do it", he chuckled.
"You'd better watch out, I might just do that if you're not careful".
They both sat smiling as they pondered the strange turn the conversation had taken.
But Rupert had a much more important plan which required Lucinda's agreement and now was the time to broach it. He couldn't ever remember feeling so nervous in all his life. Even, as a thirteen year old boy waiting outside the head boy's study at school, knowing he was about to be caned harder than ever before in his life, he had not been quite so terrified as he was now. But the Trumans did not flinch from a challenge and he was not going to start doing so now.
"You know that I'm only doing all this because of you, don't you?", he didn't wait for her to reply. "It would never have occurred to me to embark on any of this if I hadn't thought that it would enable me to work closely with you, to have a venture which we could run together, to be with you all the time. Without you, it would all be hopeless. But with you it is going to be the greatest possible success." He had been looking down at his plate as he spoke, but now he looked up and gazed directly into her beautiful eyes. "But I need more than that Lucinda", his voice was now so soft as almost to be a whisper. "I don't just want to create the best prep school in the country. I want to have the happiest life of any man in the country too. And there's only one way I can have that. I have to be married to the most perfect girl in the world. I have to be married to you." The last words were a genuine whisper. Then, with a sudden movement showing his absolute determination, he pushed his chair back and knelt at her feet. "Lucinda, my darling, please will you marry me."
One of the waiters noticed Rupert's new position and, as quietly as an Italian waiter is able to, rushed to draw his colleagues' attention to the scene. For a few moments the usual babble of excited chatter from the restaurant staff was silenced as they held their breaths and waited to see what would happen. There is, I venture to suggest, no more romantic creature on earth than the Italian waiter. And these were certainly praying for the right answer to the question they knew the handsome young man must have posed to the beautiful Goddess with whom he was dining.
Lucinda was oblivious of the sudden silence in the room. This was a moment that she had half dreaded and half longed for over many months and years. There was, for her, no possibility of an alliance with any other man. She had adored Rupert for just as long as he had adored her. It would be impossible for her to count the number of times she had dreamt of being Mrs Rupert Truman.
But that was the problem. She could never be that. She could remain single, or she could become the Countess of Guildford. And both of those prospects had, at times, seemed to her to be terrifying. Oh how often she had thought how perfect life would be if Rupert had been a simple solicitor, like her father, or even a farm labourer. But he wasn't, and he never could be. No man born into his rank and possessed of such a large fortune could ever renounce what went with those privileges. If she was to accept him, she had to accept all that went with him. She would not be able to be the quiet, dutiful wife and mother that she longed to be. Being married to him meant a life in the public eye. It would mean grand balls, dinner parties for dukes and marquesses, opening fetes, possibly even, one day, accepting a post as Lady in Waiting to a royal princess or even, God forbid, to the Queen herself. Rupert never talked to her of that side of his life, but she could hardly be unaware of it. Indeed, she had already become part of it all in a sense.
That first time, when she had been sixteen and he nineteen, that a gossip column in one of the tabloids had featured a picture of her standing next to him in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot, with the words "who is Rupert's beautiful mystery girl?" written beneath it, she had been horrified. If he had asked her this question then she would have answered instantly, and the answer would have been an emphatic no. But things had moved on. She still hated the tittle tattle in the newspapers and magazines, but she had grown accustomed to it. More importantly, perhaps, he had shown his absolute loyalty to her over the years since. It had gradually dawned on her that his devotion was genuine. She suspected, not wrongly I fear, that he was not as innocent as she was when it came to _s_e_x_ual experience. But she did not doubt that whatever had happened in Cambridge had been no more than the occasional high-spirited diversion. She knew that he was in love with her and that no other woman would ever do for him.
All this, for the millionth time, went through her mind again as she gazed down on his pleading face. You would have thought that she must have prepared her response to a question which she had known, for a long time, would one day be put to her. But, even as she prepared to speak, she still did not know what she would say. The two of them seemed like marble statues as they looked searchingly into each other's eyes and the rest of the restaurant stared, in silence, at the scene. To Rupert the pause seemed to go on for ever. He waited, unable to breathe, for her response with heart beating furiously as he tried not to contemplate the misery she could cause him by saying no.
At last, with the sweetest of smiles and a resolve worthy of any future Countess of Guildford, Lucinda spoke.
"Darling, I could never say no to you".
The words were too quiet for anyone else to have heard them, but the look on Rupert's face told the whole story. The silence in the restaurant was suddenly broken as ten Italian waiters broke into a spontaneous and rapturous round of fierce clapping. The young couple were suddenly aware of everyone else, but the moment was too joyous for any embarrassment. Both looked up, with glistening eyes and ecstatic grins, to acknowledge the reception they had been given.
Rupert was about to call for Champagne, but he should have realised that there would be no need. The restaurant's owner was already approaching with a bottle and two glasses.
"It ees on the 'ouse", he exclaimed as he let the cork fly to the ceiling. And then he whispered into Rupert's ear "you 'ave no need to worry my lord, we will not tell ze filthy gutter press".
Lucinda, who had been well aware of the elaborate steps Rupert had taken to be incognito in the restaurant, smiled at this further sign of how impossible a task that would always be, and neither did she think for one moment that their engagement would be secret for more than a few hours.
There were still two further things for Rupert to do. Neither would be unpleasant. First, there was the matter of the ring. Many of you will have been disappointed that, as he flung himself at her feet, he had not held out a ring to Lucinda. He had not done so, not because he did not have one, but because he had feared that, when she saw it, it would once again remind her of the privileges she would be acquiring by accepting the proposal. But he knew her well enough to know that, once she had given her word, she would never go back on it. So now he eased his hand into his jacket pocket and drew out the little box. On its lid was the Guildford coat of arms, as he slowly opened it she saw the most wonderful antique diamond ring she had ever seen. Shaking slightly, she held out her left hand to allow him to seal the contract and he slipped on to her slender finger the engagement ring which had been given by the eighth Earl to his future countess in the early part of the previous century.
It took all Rupert's powers of advocacy to persuade the restaurant's owner to allow him to pay for their meal, but he eventually succeeded. Then, though it was not yet ten o'clock, he said that they must at once return to Surrey. She could not understand the need for such haste, but she knew that her fiancé, oh how wonderful that word was, never did anything without a purpose. She followed him out on to the street and saw the familiar Rolls Royce, with chauffeur at the wheel, patiently waiting for them.
Rupert turned to her with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry darling, but It's the quickest way".
She smiled back at him. "Well I suppose I've got to get used to it".
He opened the back door and they both climbed in. "Miss Lucinda's house please Jenkins".
"Why are we going there? I thought we would be going back to Framley to get on with the work."
"Of course we have to go there, I need your father's permission to marry you."
"But he'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."
Rupert grinned again. "He won't be. I took the precaution of telephoning him this afternoon to ask whether it might be possible to see him at about 11 o'clock this evening. I said I would telephone again if, for any reason, I had to cancel. He seemed delighted by my suggestion."
"Is there anything you never think of?" she asked happily as he pulled her towards him and they fell back into the most perfect embrace.
The glass partition was up. Jenkins had not heard the conversation, but he didn't need to. He was as certain as anything that his young lordship had been accepted by Miss Lucinda and the joy that he felt was almost as great as theirs.
Mr and Mrs Grey were both up. Both rushed to the door as they heard the Rolls draw up outside. At last they were to know. For the whole evening both had been in a state of extreme nervousness and distraction. Mrs Grey had polished all the silver at least three times, not because of any desire to show off to Rupert, but because it gave her something with which to fill the endless time, as it seemed, before Rupert's expected arrival. Mr Grey had pretended to read a book, but had not taken a word in. The telephone had rung twice. Each time he had dreaded that it would be Rupert. But, of course, it had not been.
As they saw the young couple get out of the car, both the Greys knew instantly. But there was still the formality to be gone through. Rupert kissed his future mother-in-law and shook her husband's hand warmly.
"I would be most grateful, Mr Grey, if we could have a word in private."
"Oh Rupert, my boy, how often have I told you, it's Roderick, not Mr Grey. But of course, the girls can go and chat in the drawing room, we'll use the dining room."
Rupert was perfectly well aware that Roderick and Fenella Grey would both be delighted with the news he had brought. This interview presented none of the fears that the earlier one had done. As soon as the dining room door closed behind him, he spoke.
"Subject of course to your approval, Lucinda has this evening consented to be my wife. I have come to ask your blessing on our engagement."
"Oh Rupert, I am so happy for you both. Of course you have my blessing, and Fenella will be so pleased. Lucinda is the luckiest girl in the world."
"Well I don't know about that. But I do know that I am the luckiest man. Ever since I was thirteen I have known with absolute certainty that there could only be one girl for me. And now I've got her. And knowing that we have your approval provides the perfect end to a perfect day."
"Let's go and join them in the drawing room. By fortunate coincidence, I happen to have a bottle of Champagne in the fridge. We will drink your toast."
Mrs Grey, of course, had heard it all from Lucinda. As the men came in, they saw the tears rolling down Fenella's cheeks. But both knew perfectly well that they were tears of unbridled joy. The glasses were soon charged and toasts being drunk. Mrs Grey was eager to talk about the arrangements. The parish church, she immediately acknowledged, would be too small. Where did Rupert think would be suitable?
Ever the diplomat, Rupert passed the question over to Lucinda. She would have loved to insist on a small wedding in the parish church, but she knew that that would be impossible. The estate workers alone would have filled it to overflowing. She suggested the new Cathedral in Guildford. Rupert too would have liked a Surrey wedding, but the Cathedral was not yet completed and he knew that it was not even due to be consecrated until the following year. He was not prepared to wait that long. No, it would have to be a London wedding, but he was prepared to compromise. As a peer, he was entitled to be married in Westminster Abbey, but he knew that the prospect of that would be too daunting for Lucinda. St Margaret's, Westminster, however, would be large enough and not quite as pompous a venue as the Abbey. It had, you will not be surprised to learn, always been his intention that the service would be performed there. But, somehow, he managed to give the impression that it was Lucinda's idea, not his.
Fenella, I think, would rather have liked the idea of an Abbey wedding, but she was far too happy to quibble on the point. Roderick, who had not been thinking about where the ceremony would be, or how large it would be, had a sudden feeling of shock as he contemplated the expense. After all, he thought, it was traditionally the bride's parents responsibility to pay for the wedding. But Rupert, as ever, was quick to read his mind.
"By the way, I hope you will not be offended, but there is a tradition in the Truman family that the eldest son's wedding is always paid for by the Earl. I am afraid I am a bit of stickler for tradition and I do hope you won't object if I insist that we stick to this one. Of course", he added quickly, "I would hope that you will take the largest role in actually organising things. I mean, I can provide the staff you need for it, but I would be so much happier if I thought that the wedding had been planned by Lucinda's parents."
Roderick gave in gracefully to Rupert's plan and Fenella started day dreaming about how she would ensure that her daughter's would be the society wedding of the decade.
Rupert apologised profusely, but said that he had to get his fiancee back to work. The first term at Framley would be starting in a week and there was masses still to do. As if to reassure Roderick and Fenella that the domestic arrangements at the hall were perfectly proper, he explained that his mother and brothers were staying there at present. Mr Grey, who had, after all, once been a young man himself, had his doubts as to whether the presence of Lady Guildford and two young boys would deter Rupert. But the thought did not concern him in the slightest.
Rupert and Lucinda did not get back to Framley until midnight. They went straight to Rupert's drawing room on the first floor. He was not surprised to see his mother and brothers still up. He had not actually confided in her that he intended to propose to Lucinda that night, but he knew she could read him like a book. As he ushered Lucinda in, his mother looked up from her sewing and smiled a smile of the purest delight.
"Oh I am so happy darlings. Rupert, you are the luckiest boy imaginable."
"And what, I pray Mama, makes you so certain of yourself?"
"Don't be silly darling, it's written all over your face. Come here Lucinda and give your mother- in-law a kiss."
The boys were just as delighted as their mother. James, at thirteen, considered himself something of an expert on the fair _s_e_x_. He was in no doubt that his future sister-in-law was just the most "fab" girl in England. Richard had loved Lucinda almost as much as Rupert had for years. She had been particularly kind to him after the death of his father and the thought that she would now be a member of the family was wonderful to him.
Lady Guildford, who normally liked to be in bed by eleven, rose from her chair.
"I'm sorry darlings, but I'm just ready to drop. I'm sure you've had enough Champagne to sink a battleship already, perhaps we can celebrate tomorrow. Boys, I want you in bed in half an hour, other wise there will be trouble."
"Yes Mama", they both muttered as she kissed them good night and left the room.
Lucinda left also, to prepare some hot chocolate for her future husband and brothers-in-law.
"I s'pose this means you've got to get another matron for the school", James ventured.
"Certainly not", said Rupert. "She'll just be working for nothing now. Anyway, she has agreed to take on even more responsibilities." And he went on to explain all they had agreed about the future treatment of first and second year boys at the school. When he got to the bit about Lucinda spanking the boys, James grinned in a rather too knowing way for Rupert's liking.
"Wow, lucky blighters. I wouldn't mind being spanked by Lucinda".
"Fortunately", said Rupert, "I have a nice collection of canes for boys your age. Any more talk like that from you and I might be tempted to get a practice run in tonight".
James, who knew perfectly well that his days of home wallopings had passed when he reached his thirteenth birthday, grinned cheekily at his elder brother.
Richard, who still had more than a year of being subject to Rupert's punishments, thought of a brilliant idea.
"I say Rupes, Lucinda's bound to need some practice. When I next need to be whacked you could get her to do it instead of you."
"And pigs might fly one day", said Rupert with a smile, "I think your safest bet is to stay out of trouble".
"Maybe", said Richard, thinking back a few days to the six strokes of the gym shoe had earned the previous week, "it was just an idea".
Lucinda returned with the hot chocolate and the four of them sat in a cosy silence for a few moments as they sipped the drinks. But James could never be quiet for long.
"Rupes has just been telling us about you spanking the little ones. Do you think you'll be hard enough?"
"Well, I think I've probably got a pretty good tutor in your brother, wouldn't you say?"
"About the best", James said with a bit of a grimace, "still, I wish we'd had spankings from a pretty matron when I was eight."
"Do you, young man? Have you finished your chocolate?"
"Yup" and he put the mug on a table beside his chair.
"Jolly good, well you can come and say goodnight then".
James made another face, but dutifully rose and approached his brother's adorable fiancee. As he bent to kiss her he suddenly felt himself being propelled forward and down. In an instant, he was across her knees, being held firmly in place by her left hand which was pressing down on the small of his back. Then he felt the warmth of her right hand as it rested on the thin pyjama bottoms which covered his firm young bottom.
"Shall we see how hard I can be?"
And she raised her hand high in the air and brought it down with a resounding crack.
"Ouch" James screeched, though still with a broad grin on his face, "that hurt".
She smiled too, as she delivered another impressive smack to his bottom. She let her hand rest on it for a moment and was rewarded by noticing that she had succeeded in warming it up already.
"And one for luck", she said, as she managed yet another stinger.
James, rather regretfully I fear, slowly rose and gently rubbed his now warm bottom.
"I think you'll be ok at that job".
"Thank you, I was wondering whether I would be. Now, off you go boys, and sleep tight".
Richard approached her rather warily for his good night kiss. He had been pretty impressed by her technique and he wasn't convinced that he would like to replace his brother over her knee. But he was safe. She kissed him gently, and did no more than pat his bottom as he walked towards the door.
Mr Grey's suspicions had been justified. For the first time, Lucinda and Rupert shared his bed that night. They lay, naked in each other's arms, their hands exploring each other's bodies with more and more vigour.
"When I spanked James", she whispered, "I pretended it was you, back when you were his age and I was eleven. I rather enjoyed it."
"You naughty girl", he whispered back, playfully slapping her own firm bottom.
"Mmm, funny thing was that something very much like what's happening between your legs was definitely beginning to happen to James".
"The dirty little bugger", Rupert chuckled, "still, I don't blame him".
And then they became one.
James, I regret to say, was allowing his recollection of Lucinda's spanking to arouse him yet further as he lay between his own sheets. "One day", he was thinking, "I will be able to do it properly, but this will have to do for now."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Please try to be patient with me. I know this is taking an awful long time, but I do promise that a hundred or so naughty boys between the ages of 8 and 13 will be arriving at Framley Hall at the beginning of the next instalment. I am so grateful that one or two of you are now emailing me again. Thank you so much.