The Reformer Read Online Free PDF Page A

girl was still sleeping soundly. They arrived at his estate thirty minutes later, and he insisted on carrying Aryanna into the house himself, ignoring the disapproving snort of the driver. His housekeeper, Martha Stiller, blocked his path, a deep frown etched in her weathered brow.
    “Your Lordship, is that a female you are bringing into your home? Please sir, I respectfully urge you…”
    “Martha, move out of my way and stop looking as though you have been sucking the lemons from the trees again. Is the guest room prepared?” Ryan grunted, eyeing his old nanny whom his parents had charged to tend to his home and his agenda.
    “Yes, sir. However, an unchaperoned woman…”
    “You live here alone with me, and the neighbors never say anything about that breach of protocol,” Ryan commented with a chuckle.
    “Will you never cease to torment me? Even as a child, you would cause me distress. The neighbors—the entire tenancy, in fact—knows your adversity to having live-in servants since your return from America. I beg you, sir, to please reconsider—wait! Is that blood?” the old woman suddenly asked. “I will get some hot water and rags. That poor child!”
    Ryan nodded, pleased by the sudden turn of concern on the old woman’s face. He placed Aryanna upon the bed in the large, spacious room and slowly began to pull up her skirt to gain access to the offended areas of her anatomy. Martha stood shock-still as she entered, bowls in hand, and witnessed her Lord with his large hand resting gently on the unconscious girl’s exposed bottom parts. Her eyes then strayed to the ugly purple bruises and split skin left by the angry wielding of a thick cane.
    “That is the damage of a headmaster’s cane, My Lordship. That is not intended for a female… This poor, poor child…”
    Ryan took the water from her and wrung out a cloth, gently applying it over the swollen welts and dabbing carefully. “I will be Reforming this one myself, Martha. Father and Mother are already aware.”
    “But propriety…”
    “My dear governess, when have I cared or concerned myself over the opinions of others? Even King Edward knows that I stand strong on what is right and wrong and don’t give a dog’s ballocks for social games. Oh, don’t look so surprised. You have cleansed my mouth of words much worse than this.”
    Martha sighed, shaking her head. Ryan had always been stubborn, opinionated, and unmoving in his ways, worse since he had spent four years living in the colonies and learning the behaviors of the nonconventional Americans. His visit had been encouraged by King Edward as a means to discover ways to help introduce England to different directions of thought from those instilled by the prior monarchy. Ryan had excitedly participated and immersed himself into American society, enjoying the openness and freedom experienced in the “regular” people while chuckling at the attempts by the well-to-do to imitate British social standards. He left the country with a renewed opinion regarding socialization… everyone was bonkers and needed to just strip naked and take a romp in the ocean. An opinion he had bluntly voiced to the king and received a hearty laugh with a solid slap on the back.
    Satisfied that Aryanna’s wounds were clean, Ryan excused himself to freshen up after the carriage ride, leaving Martha watching over the sleeping girl with instructions to apply cool compresses to the tortured area. While donning a fresh shirt, however, the sound of high pitched screams sent him racing down the hallway and skidding into the guest quarters. Aryanna was pinned to the wall, screaming in fright, while Martha stood over her, pointing her finger as she sternly scolded, “Now listen here, Miss. A lady does not slap at the hands of those trying to help her! You are a guest in Lord Ryan’s home, and I will not stand for inappropriate behavior.”
    “What is happening here? Ary? Shhh, come to me, dove. There, there,” Ryan said,