Their Master's Pleasure by B. A. Bradbury

and perhaps it worked, for she spoke up willingly enough. ‘I was giving the girls their French lesson when Mr Frederick entered the classroom. He considered that I was teaching them badly. My accent is poor, he said, and my grammar stilted.’
    â€˜Freddie has exacting standards, clearly,’ I said. ‘For myself, I always thought your French excellent. I only wish mine were half so good.’
    â€˜Thank you, sir, though I cannot deny your godson is far more accomplished than I. He gave us a demonstration...’
    â€˜Comparison is hardly fair,’ I interjected. ‘Freddie is bilingual. His mother is French; he had a French nanny.’
    â€˜I see. I hadn’t known that.’
    â€˜There was no way you could.’ Though I was trying so far as possible to avoid overt criticism of my godson, there was one matter upon which we needed to be quite clear. ‘Regardless of the rights and wrongs of it,’ I said carefully, ‘I’m concerned that you were punished in front of my wards.’
    â€˜Yes, sir. I was more worried about that than the beating itself. I did ask Mr Frederick’s permission to send the girls out, but he said it would be a valuable lesson for them, encouraging them to work harder at their studies.’
    I said nothing, but that sounded like sheer hogwash to me. Freddie wanted an audience, nothing more. He was showing off to my wards, demonstrating first his linguistic talents, then his ability to dominate an older woman and a figure of authority to boot. ‘I’ll speak with him on the matter,’ I said. ‘It won’t happen again.’
    She looked considerably relieved at that and thanked me, after which I allowed her to return to her duties.
    As I went in search of my godson I thought over everything that had happened. All in all, I was more than pleased with him. True, he had made an error of judgment, but I had committed far greater blunders in my time. He handled my sudden appearance very well, I thought, keeping his head and his own dignity as a result. And from what I had seen of the actual punishment itself, he was a remarkably accomplished spanker for one so young - imaginative, confident and proficient. His control over his victim had been exemplary. My godson had obviously learned early on in his career that a firm tone and an authoritative manner can work wonders.
    I found Freddie in the library, reading. ‘There you are, my boy,’ I said. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’
    He closed the book and rose to his feet, giving me a particularly searching look. ‘I think I know why you’re here, sir.’
    â€˜You do?’
    He nodded. ‘I suspect I’ve offended you over Mrs Hammond’s punishment.’
    â€˜That’s what I want to talk to you about, yes. Two aspects of it, in fact - that you chose to punish her in the first place and that you did so in front of Elizabeth and her sisters.’
    His eyebrows rose. ‘I expected you to say I’d been too severe. I never thought... you did give me permission to punish the servants, sir.’
    â€˜The servants, yes, but I don’t regard Mrs Hammond as such. You weren’t to know that, of course, so the fault is mine for not making it clear. I’m more concerned about the other issue, however. Was there a specific reason for wanting the girls present?’
    â€˜Not really,’ he said. ‘It struck me as... amusing, I suppose. Turning the tables on her, as it were.’
    I was pleased that he was being honest with me - nothing about it being ‘good for them’ or any such nonsense.
    â€˜For myself,’ I said, ‘I would never do that. People in authority need to be respected if they’re to do their job properly and the quickest way to lose it is to be humiliated in front of your subordinates.’
    â€˜You’re right, sir,’ Freddie said soberly, ‘I shouldn’t have done