The sun seemed entirely absent the next morning. Rose pulled back the curtains and looked out of her window to find a sea of fog had smothered the entire town. Looking down, the ground was barely visible, what light there was, pale and grey by the time it reached her. To think, she had almost got away yesterday. If only she had not been so anxious, she might have gotten away.

She had paced up and down outside the house for sometime once she had reached the ground, trying to decide where to go. It was one thing to choose to leave but she realised she had no plans as to where to go. When a hansom cab passed by, she ran after it, hoping the cabbie would be able to suggest somewhere suitable for a lady to stay a few nights.

As she looked out of the window, her grip on the sill tightened. He had grabbed her. He had taken hold of her and dragged her back into the house. Worst of all was the fact that her parents had not intervened. He had somehow gotten them in his thrall, beholden to him instead of the other way round.

She had been spanked in her own bedroom by the most wicked of men. Her posterior was still sore, her head groggy. Every time she had rolled onto her back during the night, she had awoken in pain. Although subsiding to a dull ache, it was still there, a lasting reminder of what he’d done.

Yet he was like a different person when he came back an hour later. She had not dared to leave her chair whilst he was gone, despite the agony caused by the hard wood pressing into her buttocks. He had smiled broadly when he’d found her sitting waiting for him just as he had left her.

“Good little girl,” he said, smiling broadly. “You are learning fast.”

“May I rise?” Rose asked, shifting from side to side.

“You may. It is bedtime.”

He had left the room whilst her maid helped her into her nightclothes, returning as the maid left to tuck her in. It had been the strangest sensation, having him tuck her blankets around her. She wanted to be furious with him, to hate him for what he had done. But instead her eyes had begun to sag as he hummed a lullaby and before she knew what happened, she was asleep.

Turning away from the window, she looked across at the bed. “Was it all a dream?” she asked out loud, running her hands over the back of her nightgown. The lightest touch made her wince as her hands moved over her posterior. It was real. He was real.

She was afraid to leave her bedroom. When there came a knock on her door a minute later, she was back in bed, covers pulled up over her head. “I am not getting up, Laura,” she called out to her maid. “Away with you.”

“I am not beholden to you,” a woman’s voice called back, a woman Rose did not recognise. She peeked out as the door opened, a matronly figure appearing, a bulging bag held in one hand. “Nor am I your alarm clock. You should be up by now.”

“Who are you?”

“I am your new nanny. My name is Anita Fitzpatrick. You may call me Mama.”

“Mama?”

“Correct. Now up you get and let’s start as we mean to go on.” Mama pushed Rose’s blankets down the bed, holding out a hand to help her climb to her feet. “That’s better. Now you should wash.”

Rose moved across to the wash basin. She dipped a hand into it and yanked it back at once. “It’s cold.”

“Of course it is. Mollycoddling is over. Hot water is for good little girls who behave. Do well today and we’ll see what happens tomorrow, won’t we?”

“You expect me to wash in cold water?”

Mama crossed the room in three long steps. She grabbed the washcloth from next to the bowl and plunged it into the water. Turning to Rose, she shoved the cloth to her face, rubbing it roughly over her mouth as Rose coughed and spluttered. “What are you doing?”

“Washing you. You seem incapable of doing it for yourself.”

Rose gasped as rivulets of ice cold water soaked into her nightgown, trickling down her neck and onto her chest. “Stop it!”

“When you’re done,” Mama said, washing her neck and face with such vigour that one might think Rose had just finished a particularly filthy shift down a coal mine. “There, that’s better. Now off with that gown.”

“But my maid assists me with such things.”

“As I recall, you sent her away. Consider me your maid for the present. Come now, stop acting shy. Believe me, you have nothing that I have not seen many times before.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. I will give you until the count of three to take off that nightgown. If you are not naked by the time I reach three, your posterior will be so red, you will have to drink your breakfast standing up.”

Rose looked at the older woman. She had the same cold look to her eyes that she had thought unique to Titus. Reluctantly, she reached down and pulled her nightgown up and off her shoulders, holding it against her body as she shivered in the cold air.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mama said, turning away from her and reaching into her bag. She pulled out a large red towel, laying it down on the bedroom floor as if it was a picnic blanket.

“What’s that for?” Rose asked.

“For you to lie on so I can dress you.”

“I would prefer to stand.”

“I have no doubt you would. Come and lay down.”

“Must I?”

“I will not tell you again. Would you like me to get Papa to dress you?”

Rose thought about her father seeing her naked like this. The idea of it made her skin crawl. “All right,” she said, seeing Mama crossing to the bedroom door. “I will lay down.”

“Good, little Rose,” Mama said, watching as Rose walked across to the towel. “On your back, that’s it.”

“What now?” Rose asked, one hand across her breasts, the other covering her most intimate area.

“Now we wait for Papa.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

The bedroom door opened before Mama could answer and there stood Titus, beaming at the sight before him. “That’s what I like to see,” he said as Rose scrambled frantically to her feet, “a good little girl. Wait, where are you going?”

“You can’t see me like this,” Rose snapped at him. “Get out!”

“Nonsense,” Mama said. “This is your Papa; he is here to look after you.”

“That…that is Papa?”

“Yes, of course. Who on earth did you think I meant?”

“I thought you meant…oh, never mind.”

“Right, well back down, please.”

Rose lowered herself onto the towel, staring at Titus the entire time. He seemed not to care about her nakedness, only glad to see her doing as she was told. “Good, little Rose,” he said once she had laid down.

“Here you go,” Mama said, reaching into the bag and passing him a square of towelling cloth.

“What’s that for?” Rose asked, lifting her head and pointing at the cloth.

“To make sure you don’t have any accidents,” Titus replied, kneeling at her feet and taking hold of her ankles.

“Accidents? What sort of accidents? Hey, what are you doing?”

“My, you do ask a lot of questions,” Titus said, nodding towards Mama who nodded back.

The nanny rummaged in the bag and brought out a dummy on a silk ribbon. “What’s that for?” Rose asked but it was the last thing she was able to say. Mama moved remarkably fast for her age, kneeling by Rose’s head and shoving the dummy into her mouth. Seconds later the ribbon was tied behind her head, holding the dummy tightly in place. It was oversized, filling her mouth and making it impossible for her to speak. She tried to cry out but only a muffled groan escaped her as Titus shoved her ankles apart.

She scrambled to cover the spot between her legs but Mama took firm hold of her arms a moment later, moved her hands up above her head. She could only watch in shocked confusion as the square of cloth was pushed under her buttocks. He couldn’t be about to…could he?

He could. He did. He tied the cloth in place between her legs and then she realised what was happening. It was a nappy. She was wearing a nappy. That was humiliating enough but she also had a dummy tied in place in her mouth.

Titus stood up, the smile fading from his lips as she began kicking her legs towards him. “Knock that off,” he snapped, raising a single hand. “Or have you forgotten yesterday’s lesson so quickly?”

Rose lowered her legs, glaring up at him as the smile returned. He seemed amused by her anger, the brute. “Now you won’t have any accidents, will you?”

Rose screamed behind the dummy, a noise that made his smile all the broader. “It is gone eight,” Mama said from behind her.

“Goodness, so it is. Come on then. Time for breakfast.”