Emilia's Consequences (Wayward Young Ladies 2)

By Katie Douglas

Twenty-one-year-old Emilia Darlington is in big trouble.
She feigned an injury to avoid hockey practice.
The matron and games teacher see through her transparent lies. They each punish her, then send her to the headmaster’s office.
Mr. Bythewoode knows everything.
He is well-versed in making naughty girls regret their behaviour.
She will pay the price for not being a team player.
His cane will leave more than caresses on her cheeks.
Note: This short read is a Victorian Finishing School fantasy involving caning and naughtiness. If such things are not your cup of tea, please divert to the knitting section of the bookshop promptly.
Class is about to start.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Douglas
• Release date: Sep 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005495350

Katie Douglas

Katie Douglas is a number one and USA Today bestselling author of erotic romance. Katie is an incorrigible romantic and her books reflect that. Especially the incorrigible part. In her spare time she likes to run headfirst into impossible projects, especially if those projects involve travel and good food. Her other love is shoe shopping. She is currently masquerading as a librarian by day. Although, given that she lives in China, her day is probably night time where you are. So maybe she's moonlighting as a librarian.

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Emilia’s Consequences

Copyright 2020 Katie Douglas

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In memory of Diana Rigg.

Chapter 1

Darlington! Get moving! Miss Whifflesack the games mistress shouted with the fury of someone in a battle-mist. The godawful woman was far too invested in the sporting achievements of the motley class of not-quite-convicted quasi-criminals who had been sent to St. Agnes’s Finishing School for Wayward Girls in an attempt to save their well-to-do families further shame and embarrassment.

Yes, Miss.

Standing outside on the freezing school field, hopping from one foot to the other and moving as little as possible because her muscles had seized up, Emilia Darlington wiped icy raindrops out of her eyes and tried to see any of the other girls in her class, but visibility was poor through the sheets of rain.

Emilia guessed at the direction she was supposed to be running in, and no sooner had she put her feet down than she turned an ankle in a freezing puddle, of the sort with a thin, brittle, glassy layer of ice over the surface but hellish watery brown mud underneath. The liquid drenched her canvas plimsolls and regulation grey knee-socks.

She let out a tirade of very un-ladylike words as the wind blew more cold rain straight at her, soaking through her knee-length pleated gymslip and thin white sporting shirt and biting into her skin, which was entirely unused to being so exposed, even indoors.

Immediately, she looked around to see if she was in trouble, but the games mistress had found someone else to shout at for the time being.

Sport is abominable, Emilia grumbled to herself. A rhythmic thudding of footsteps and the sound of half-a-dozen girls gasping like they had polio signalled to Emilia that she was about to get lapped by the keen sporting types who enjoyed this sort of torture.

Masochists, Emilia muttered as Rebecca Buchanan led a minor stampede of young ladies through the puddle that had just ensnared Emilia. None of them even seemed to notice the cold. Emilia could not get her leg