Little Conspiracy

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Sample Chapter

Vanessa White has never met her benefactor but when his regular monthly payments to her landlord abruptly stop, she is thrown out of her house and left destitute. Offered a place at a private school, Vanessa accepts but when she arrives, she discovers she must enroll as one of the headmaster’s littles and accept whatever disciplinary measures the establishment sees fit.

When Nathaniel Crow finds Vanessa waiting for him at his school, it only takes one look at her innocent beauty for him to fall for her, an action that soon threatens to destroy them both. 

When a stranger returns to claim Vanessa and ruin Nathaniel, he finds himself forced to take extreme measures to keep his little girl safe, whether she wants him to or not. 

DISCLAIMER: This book includes the spanking of adult women, explicit sexual scenes including anal play, and elements of age-play and power exchange. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.


Sample Chapter

Chapter One

York, 1868

Vanessa White awoke to the sound of hammering on her front door. Whoever it was sounded angry, their ferocious knocking echoing inside her skull as she climbed reluctantly out of bed. “All right,” she muttered. “I’m coming.”

“I know you’re in there,” a man’s voice shouted up through the letterbox. “Get down here, Miss White.”

Fear rose up in Vanessa’s stomach. It was the voice she least liked to hear, that of her landlord. Frantically, she dressed, still tying up her hair as she ran downstairs.

“Mr. Woodhouse,” Vanessa said with a smile as she pulled open the door. “What can I do for you?”

“Do not attempt to talk your way out of this one, Miss White. Two months to the day. I have come to take back my house.”

“I can explain. My benefactor’s payments have not been forthcoming this month—”

“Or last month.”

“Quite. But I have had assurances that the money will be with me shortly. I just need a little time, that’s all.”

“There is always an excuse with you people.”

“What do you mean by ‘you people,’ Mr. Woodhouse? Is there something about me that offends you?”

“It is your lack of payment that offends me, Miss White. I should never have let to someone so young, this is what I get for dealing with children.”

“I am twenty years old, Mr. Woodhouse, I am no more a child than you are.”

Mr. Woodhouse grunted before shaking his head. “No, you are not a child. You are an adult and you have a responsibility to ensure your rent is paid. You have not paid so I am here to take possession and that is an end to the matter.”

“But, Mr. Woodhouse, I need only a little more time. I am certain my benefactor will make good the money you are owed, if you would only grant me another week.” She took his hands in hers, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. “Please.”

Snatching his hands away, Mr. Woodhouse shook his head again. “Do not use that look on me, it was that look that made me give you this place against my better judgment and on a monthly rental instead of an annual term. I was a fool to trust you.”

“Please. A little more time.”

“You have the length of time it takes me to empty your belongings onto the street.”

“You wouldn’t, not to an innocent woman?”

“Innocent, my foot! You want something for nothing, same as everyone else in this city.” He pushed past her, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving Vanessa out on the street.

She tried the door but it was already locked. “You can’t do this to me!” she shouted through the letterbox. “I demand you let me in.” Her voice began to falter, “I have nowhere else to go.”

“Then I suggest you go and see your benefactor,” Mr. Woodhouse shouted back through the door. “Get me my money.”

“I do not know where he lives. I have never dealt with him personally.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient? Here.” The landlord’s hand emerged from the letterbox, thrusting out an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Your payments came from that address. I suggest you make haste to pay them a visit, Miss White. My patience with your excuses is at an end.”

Vanessa tore open the envelope. In her landlord’s poor handwriting the letters were hard to decipher but eventually she was able to read:

10 Micklegate

So that was where he lived, a mere few streets away from her. All this time he had lived so close to her and yet she knew nothing of him, not even what he looked like. When the letter had first arrived at her single garret room, informing her that he would pay for any house she chose, that all bills incurred would be paid by him, it had seemed too good to be true. Yet how quickly she had become used to having her every extravagance funded by her anonymous benefactor.

She had spent readily and easily once the first few bills were paid. She did not know how he was able to ascertain to whom she owed money at any given time but whoever she bought from, no receipts were ever issued, no bills of sale given, yet the accounts were always settled by the next time an urge to spend struck her.

As she walked through the streets towards Micklegate, she began to ponder. She had not once thought about the oddity of her bills being paid by someone she’d never met. Why had she taken for granted that her rent would be paid without fail? Why had it never occurred to her to have a contingency plan for this eventuality? All good things came to an end, she knew that. Yet she had wilfully ignored it, and now here it was biting her on the behind. She was to be made homeless if she did not secure two month’s rent from whoever was waiting for her at 10 Micklegate.

Crossing the road, she passed under the arch of the medieval walls and down the cobbled hill, clutching the envelope tightly in her hand whilst wondering who might be waiting for her there. She stopped outside number ten, surprised to find herselflooking at the tall glass windows of an office rather than a house. It was part of a terraced row of tidy Georgian houses and stood out as the only commercial premises amongst the fine properties that surrounded it.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. From behind a desk, an elderly gentleman in a dark blue suit looked up from his ledger. “Good morning,” he said, inclining his head slightly as he rose to his feet. “May I help you?”

“I hope so,” Vanessa replied, taking a tentative step towards him. “This may sound strange but I was told this was the address of my benefactor.”

“Your benefactor? Forgive me, my dear, but this is merely an administration office. Perhaps you have been given the wrong address?”

“This is 10 Micklegate, is it not?”

“Yes, but I do not think I can help you.”

“Perhaps it is someone else working here whom I seek. My name is Vanessa White; does that mean anything to you?”

“I am afraid not. Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy this morning.” He began ushering her towards the door.

“You must help me,” Vanessa replied, digging her heels into the rug at her feet. “For the last two years, all my bills have been paid by whoever runs this place but now they have stopped and my landlord has thrown me out of my house. I was given this address. Please, I have nowhere else to go. I beg you to help me.”

The man sighed. “Wait here a moment, would you?” He vanished through a door in the back wall of the office.

Vanessa paced up and down in front of the windows, waiting for him to return. What if he came back and said no, what if she had been given the wrong address, what if this was just a cruel trick her landlord was playing on her? What then, homeless once more, back on the streets she thought she’d left behind forever? She shuddered at the very idea, taking a lock of her hair in her hand and twirling it round her finger at an ever increasing speed.

The door opened so suddenly it made her jump. She looked across to see the old man holding a sheaf of papers, smiling up at her. “You are in luck, Miss White. I have looked into the paperwork and your benefactor does exist.”

“Wonderful, where is he?”

“He is not here but I believe you may find him at his school. You are welcome to visit and find out for yourself if you wish.”

“A school? But my landlord is currently tossing my possessions out onto the street! Could you not lend me the money yourself?”

“That I cannot do. I can give you the address of his school, nothing more. Anything else is up to you.”

Chapter Two

It was only because Nathaniel Crow was running late that he saw her at all. The fleeting glimpse was all it took to send guilt racing through him, as if it had been only a day since it happened, not nineteen years.

He was late to arrive at the office because someone had been interfering with his affairs and he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who it might be. If his suspicions were right, and they usually were, she was in danger. He had thought hard during the carriage ride to the office. The safest place for her would be at the school, that way he could keep an eye on her.

But could he do that without revealing who he was? And how best to get in touch with her? What if his past caught up with them both whilst she was there? The thought was a troubling one and it continued to plague him as he climbed down from his carriage and went through the door of 10 Micklegate. He nodded to Benson before passing through to his private study, another mountain of correspondence waiting for him in a teetering pile.

He had awoken that morning in a fine mood. The school was running well, making a handsome profit at last. It had suffered three years of loss after he took over and he had begun to think it might have to close, a shame as of all the investments he had made over the years, the school was the most rewarding in a number of ways.

The sun had been shining brightly through the window as he dressed, breakfast had been excellent, and then the letter had arrived, spoiling his mood in a few short lines. He read it three times in the hope of understanding its contents but was still confused. It did not add up.

Dear Mr. Crow,

I regret to inform you that your rental payment for the property of 92 Blossom Street has not been received for the second month in a row. As I informed you on this date last month, in such circumstances, no leeway can be given beyond a demand for immediate payment of the arrears within twenty-four hours plus ten percent interest for costs incurred by myself. If such a payment is not received, repossession of the property will occur.

Your faithful servant,

William Woodhouse Esq. – Landlord

He laid the letter down on the table and it looked up at him in mute accusation. You said you would look after her, it seemed to say. Look how that worked out. Yet this was the first he had heard of any rental arrears. Each month his accountant sent out the payment. He, himself, had not been involved beyond providing the necessary signatures when it had first been set up.

She was to be thrown out on her ear. He was furious at the thought of it but then he realized it might be the perfect opportunity. If the payments were being intercepted, that added to the evidence of recent foul play. If letters were going missing, that also suggested foul play. That suggested he was in serious trouble which, in turn, suggested Vanessa was at risk. After taking so long to find her, he had no intention of losing her now.

Climbing into his carriage after breakfast, he called up to his driver. “To James first, if you please.”

He could scarce spare the time but he had to speak to his accountant before going on to the office. He needed details of the missing payments as soon as possible.

James received him with polite confusion, bringing him into the parlour. “Mr. Crow, I was not expecting you until the end of the quarter. Is there something amiss?”

“There is, James,” Nathaniel replied, sinking into the armchair offered to him. “The rent has not been paid on Vanessa’s house for two months. Perhaps you might explain why?”

“Two months?” James said in a high pitched squeak, his cheeks turning pink. “Mr. Crow, I had absolutely no idea. Please, forgive me.”

“So this is the first you’ve heard of it then?”

“I confess myself shocked by the news, Mr. Crow. I will trace the payments immediately and ensure this matter is resolved at once. I can assure you if I had a clue that something was amiss, I would have dealt with the matter personally.”

“You did not forget to send them perhaps?”

“Not possible, Mr. Crow. They go out automatically on the first of the month without fail. It is done through the bank you requested, you made me promise I would handle the White matter myself.”

“I did, James, and it seems that maybe I was remiss in placing so much trust in you.”

“Mr. Crow, please, I have a family to support. I will make this right, I promise you.”

“Enough begging, it does not become you. As it happens, I have changed my mind on this matter so whatever the reason, and whoever the culprit, they may have done me a favour they did not anticipate. Cease the rental payments on that property at once. I have no intention of continuing to throw good money after bad.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Crow. And please accept my apologies again on this matter.”

Nathaniel left him grovelling and returned to his carriage. If the payments had gone out that meant they had definitely been intercepted. James’ face told him he was not responsible. For many reasons, Nathaniel regretted the career he had followed in his younger days but it had at least taught him to read faces. James was no thief. The matter grew darker by the minute.

By the time he reached his office, he had decided it would be best to take her under his wing, look after her in person. That way, he could ensure her safety. Was that not what he had always vowed, to keep her safe?

He forced her from his mind, turning to the more mundane matters of dealing with the seemingly endless waiting list of families desperate to enrol their daughters at his school. He had barely scratched the surface of his correspondence when he heard the door to the street open.

Any other morning, he would have been out for his morning coffee at that point but the visit to his accountant had set his schedule back by an hour and that was why he was able to see her through the crack in his study door. Standing silently, he moved across the room, taking a single glance out at her before pulling the door closed. She was pacing up and down when he saw her and she looked distressed. No wonder. If the landlord were as prompt as the letter suggested, she was presumably out on her ear.

He listened closely, his heart pounding at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he had heard her voice in person, since he had seen her. She had grown up since then, though she still maintained that childlike look about her, an innocence that he had vowed he would do his utmost to help her maintain, lest the horrors of the world invade and crush her as it had her parents.

He was sitting back behind his desk when Benson entered. “Excuse me, Mr. Crow,” he nodded. “She is here. What should I do?”

“What have you told her?”

“Nothing, Mr. Crow. You told me never to tell her about you. But she is in trouble, sir, and she needs help. Perhaps something from petty cash?”

Nathaniel leant back in his chair, his brow furrowed. “What sort of trouble is she in?”

“She says she’s been thrown out of her house and her landlord gave her this address. I thought you had him swear never to tell her where the payments came from.”

Nathaniel waved away his complaint. “I did that for precisely this reason, the man could not be trusted, and if there is one thing you can trust, it is that a dishonest man will always be dishonest.”

“I am sorry; I am not with you.”

“It does not matter. Have her come to the school. I’ll meet with her there.”

“The school? Are you sure? What if he finds out she is there?”

“Are you second guessing me, Benson?”

“No, sir. Of course not. I’ll have her delivered to the school at once.”

With a curt nod, Benson turned and left, Nathaniel listening to him informing Vanessa of her next move. Benson was right, of course. There was a risk he would find her there, attempt to finish what he started. Although the school was a private and secure location, it was also a well known one. There were few noble families in the country who did not know where it was and the parents of the girls who enrolled travelled there regularly. The opportunity for trouble to turn up was definitely there.

He had always said that as long as she remained oblivious to his existence, she would be safe. But now she was not only about to find out he existed, she was to live at the school under his wing. She would stand out at once living with him there.

He realised there was only one thing for it, she would not just move into the school, she would have to enrol, slot in as one of the littles and take her place amongst them. That way, she would not stand out any more than any of the others. That way she would be safe.

Nathaniel still felt uncomfortable. He always liked to know what was going to happen next in any given situation, but now all he could do was wait to see what happened. Waiting without knowing exactly what was going to happen made him nervous. Risking the safety of the one woman he’d vowed to keep safe made him very nervous indeed.

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1 review for Little Conspiracy

  1. Eva Wade

    I love Lucy Wild and her stories just twist me and this one has age play. its a steamy ride with discipline. this is a standalone with a HEA

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