Daisy chewed her lip and studied her fingers which remained firmly in Papa’s grasp. It was the first time they had had any kind of lasting physical contact other than a brief touch here and there. She was mesmerized by the sight of their ungloved hands intertwined. His fingers were strong and warm and his touch caused her a great deal of distraction. She remembered what had happened in her bedchamber not an hour ago, when Nurse Lister and Miss Wickersham had taught her about the things married people do and she imagined her papa's strong fingers stroking her kitty the way Nurse Lister had. Or spreading her behind cheeks and prodding at her bottom hole like Miss Wickersham had while the nurse touched her privates. She felt suddenly breathless and unable to stop squirming in her seat.

“Young lady,” Papa said, and his stern tone only made the longing within her stronger, “I believe there is more to this story and I wish to hear it.”

“Yes, Papa,” she said. “It was not really all my fault. There was a fair going on in town and I think Miss Wickersham should have allowed us all to attend but she would not, even though I politely asked her and she simply said none of us were to step foot into the town while the fair was going on. Do you think that is fair? I do not. Especially not for me, as I was about to be married like a grown-up lady and I would be able to attend a fair by myself as a married lady, so why could I not go now?” The injustice of it all seemed obvious to her.

“Indeed,” Papa said, “though I believe we will need to have a discussion about the parameters of a married lady’s freedoms. I do not believe I would like for you to go wandering off to a fair all alone either.”

Daisy had been quite nervous, but once she had started talking she began to relax and the words flowed from her mouth, just as they always did. “Well, then you are probably not going to like the rest of this story, Papa. But I believe I must tell you if that is the rule. This morning I got up early and went to the fair and none of the booths were open except for an interesting woman whose name was Lady Miselda and she told my fortune.”

“You don't say,” Papa said, and she could tell he was becoming amused. She hoped it was not at her expense. “And what did this Lady Miselda reveal to you about your future?”

“She told me we would be very, very happy together, Papa.” Daisy looked up at him with a big smile. “And I think she is right.” There was no need to mention the trials Lady Miselda had talked about, as they very well might not come true. It already seemed as if they were deeply in love. Papa had asked to marry her after only knowing her for a few days, and surely he wouldn’t have done so if his feelings for her weren’t strong and true.

Papa released her hands, then scooped Daisy up and set her on his lap. He cupped her face between his huge, warm palms and looked straight into her eyes. “I believe she is right, too, my dear. There's no need for a fortune teller to inform me that I care about you profoundly and look forward to many happy years together.” His dark gaze and deep voice sent a shiver down Daisy’s spine.

And then he lowered his mouth and gently captured her lips with his.

Daisy had read about this in some of the romance novels she had snuck into her bedchamber. In the books the heroine was always quite breathless and she understood that feeling right now because she felt the same. After a moment, Papa pressed his tongue against the seam of her lips and she gasped. When her mouth opened, his tongue darted inside. Her eyes, which she had closed when the kiss began, flew open. The books never said anything about this type of exotic kissing. But she found she enjoyed it and soon her tongue moved with his in a dance of building passion. She closed her eyes again and basked in the heady sensation. The pulsing she had experienced during her medical exam returned to heat her kitty.

When the kiss ended, Papa tucked her up against his chest and she could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear. It sounded maybe not as fast as her own heart, but she could tell Papa was not unaffected by their intimacy.

“I believe you have more of your story to tell me, little miss,” Papa said.

“I would prefer we did more kissing, Papa,” she said, looking up at him hopefully.

“Oh, there will be plenty of kissing, little miss. But first I am waiting to hear what happened when you returned to Talcott House from the fair.”

With a disappointed sigh, Daisy realized there would be no more kissing until she finished telling the story. “I was having such a delightful time with Lady Miselda—I very much wish you could meet her sometime, Papa, because she was quite interesting with colorful scarves and big gold earrings and bracelets up and down her arms and she lit a stick of something which smelled interesting. Have you ever been inside a tent, Papa? Oh my, it was exciting.”

Papa tapped the tip of her nose. “Stick to the story, young lady. I want to hear what Miss Wickersham had to say.”

“Well, if it had not been for me running through the mud, Miss Wickersham would not have found out I disobeyed and I would not have gotten a spanking.” Once the word passed her lips, however, Daisy realized her mistake and she again covered her mouth with both hands, glanced up at her papa, shame and trepidation filling her.

“My bride earned a spanking on her wedding day. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Papa,” she said, but rushed to defend herself. “It was not a very severe spanking, merely a trifling of gentle swats on my backside since I was late getting back which made everything very rushed for my medical exam from Nurse Lister.”

“I believe I shall be the judge of whether your punishment was severe or not.” Papa lifted her from his lap, turned and positioned her with her hands braced on the seat opposite them. Lifting the skirts of her wedding dress, he began heaping them across her hips. Nerves bounded through her, knowing he was about to look upon her bare behind, but she didn’t dare protest. She didn’t want to displease her papa so soon into their marriage. Once he had her skirts all piled up and the slit of her drawers parted, he boldly examined her bottom, running his hands over her sore flesh. His touch made her gasp as little jolts of pleasure rushed through her.

“Little girl, this certainly looks to me as though Miss Wickersham knows what she's doing when it comes to punishment. And this is much more than only a few little taps for being late.” He pushed her drawers open wider and gave her bottom a most thorough inspection, touching her all over and even cupping each of her cheeks in turn while he lifted them to inspect the tender curve of her behind where her bottom and thighs met.

Her kitty pulsed and her legs quaked in response, and he continued on with the slow caresses, taking his time as he scrutinized her punished rear end. Oh, why couldn’t she have been a good girl and resisted temptation for once in her life? Humiliation unlike any she had ever experienced before flooded through her, along with the mounting warmth that tingled between her trembling thighs.

“Pl-please, Papa,” she said, “‘tis mortifying to have you look upon me in this way.”

Papa’s hand skimmed over the still tender flesh of one bottom cheek. “You are my wife now, Daisy. You belong to me. And I will love and protect you as my most cherished and beloved wife. That also means I shall inspect, touch, taste and enjoy your body at my whim and leisure.” He squeezed the left side of her buttocks. “Just as my body will be yours to enjoy, inspect and touch.”

Daisy gasped at the implications of his words. Though she had no idea what a man’s body might be like without clothing, the heat curling through her indicated a dire interest in finding out. Papa continued to move his hands about inside her drawers while he made tsk-tsk sounds in his throat. Despite her increasing shame, heat coiled tighter in her nether region, her kitty throbbing harder with each passing second.

“Miss Wickersham appears to be quite skilled with the ruler. I expect she has had plenty of practice with a houseful of naughty girls. Who, might I ask, would you say has been the naughtiest of the little ladies of Talcott House?” Papa’s fingers moved between her thighs, widening her stance and most assuredly revealing the heated folds of her kitty to him—her bare kitty. Nurse Lister had quickly and efficiently shaved her privates bare at the conclusion of her climax, right before her friends had burst into the room.

Blood rushed through Daisy’s body, pounding in her ears and heating all the areas where Papa’s hands had been. She opened her mouth to attempt a response to his query, for she did wish to be obedient to her papa, but when his finger slid around the outer ridge of her kitty, the only sound she made was a strangled moan from deep in her throat. She couldn’t even find the words to explain that she’d been spanked with a hairbrush rather than a ruler, though she supposed he had good reason to assume Miss Wickersham had used a ruler since he’d witnessed her waving the implement around in her study during his first trip to Talcott House.

Papa continued his exploration of her kitty, expertly locating her nubbin. Daisy strained to remember the name Nurse Lister had given it but her thinking was a bit muddled. Ah yes, the rhyme...the clitty in her kitty. Whatever it was called, Papa’s fingers upon it sent Daisy up onto the tips of her toes as jolts like lightning coursed through her body. Her ninnies felt sensitive as they pressed against the bench, tightening and tingling as she gasped for air.

“Since it appears you are unable to answer my question at the moment, I shall endeavor to determine who I think might have caused Miss Wickersham a number of headaches.” Now he had one finger on her clitty and another circling the petals of her kitty, moving ever closer to her core. “Let me see...there is one young lady I know of who eavesdropped on a grown-up conversation and then fell through the ceiling, disobeyed a direct order from Miss Wickersham not to go to the fair, was late getting ready for her own wedding and has been reading stolen novels about topics which are not proper for a young lady. Do you have any idea who that might be?”

“I-I al-ways returned the novels, Papa, so they were more borrowed than stolen, really.” Despite the onslaught of what she hoped was another, even more potent, climax, Daisy felt compelled to defend herself against at least one of his charges. Against the others, she had no defense.

“What was the phrase you used? The sweet rapture of our joined love?”

“Y-yes,” she said, burying her face in the cushions of the seat upon which she was braced, “I j-just wanted to know what it means.” Her knees began to quiver.

“Well, you will simply have to wait until I take you to my bedchamber and then you shall find out, my naughty little bride.”

And with that, Papa halted his pleasure inducing activities, righted her skirts and returned her to the seat next to him.

Wide eyed and panting, she gaped at him. “But, Papa,” she gasped, “what about my-my....” Dare she to say the word? “My climax?”

His head swiveled quickly toward her and his eyes widened the moment she whispered climax, as if he was surprised she knew the word. Apparently, it was a grown-up word and she beamed inwardly that she at least knew something important that happened between married people, even if he wasn’t going to give her what she was asking for in this moment. She clenched her thighs together, enjoying the increased pressure she was able to put on her own kitty in secret as she sat beside him in his fancy carriage while the countryside rolled by in a blur of colors.

Her heart skipped a beat as he stared down at her, his gaze intense and smoldering. Did he realize she was pressing her thighs together right now? Would he be displeased if he knew? A wave of naughtiness filled her and her bottom cheeks quivered as she recalled how stern and serious her papa could be when he was upset. As she’d spied on him in Miss Wickersham’s study during his first visit to Talcott House a week ago, he had been most firm in his demeanor before she’d caused him to laugh a short while later. She again wondered about Lettie’s speculation that some papas have naughty chairs, but she quickly dashed the possibility aside. Lord Kensington, her wonderful new husband and papa who only ever looked upon her with kindness gleaming in his handsome dark eyes, could not possibly have a naughty chair in his house. But why did the idea of being scolded and chastised by him leave her with a funny feeling in her tummy?

Finally, he responded to her request, though his answer was not the one she’d been hoping for. “Your first lesson as my bride, sweet Daisy, shall be patience.”