Chapter 11

“What do you mean you scared off your birthday gift?” Deirdre couldn’t quite grasp the concept of Glenda figuring out that she was punishing herself for her father’s sins. That was why she wanted to be a slave. It allowed her to feel properly corrected for her bad behavior.

“Glenda was a child in her head, Deirdre. She and her sister had been badly abused by their father when womanhood was just coming on them. Hiding behind her kink was a way to hide from the truth and avoid placing blame where blame belonged. Once she understood her motivations, it wasn’t important anymore.

“When she talked me into spanking her she did so to seek forgiveness for being present when her father raped her sister, and not being able to stop him. When her father went to jail and got killed, she blamed herself for not stopping him from committing the crime that go him arrested.

“Glenda believed that she needed to be punished for her sins, and becoming a slave was the perfect out for her.” Deirdre was shocked that she didn’t see what was behind Glenda’s desire to be disciplined. Once I explained it, she felt guilty and a little dirty.

“Terry, you are such a good person.” Having settled the Glenda thing, Deirdre and Evie lavished me with kisses, as they worked together to get my clothes off and me on my back, in bed.

I didn’t resist very hard.

Nearly a week went by when two things happened to remind me of my London day. I’d traveled back to London to meet with a banker that wanted to talk with me about using their international services, and I wanted a chance to spend a day or two in town anyway.

The first was easy.

“Lord Terrance,” It was my private secretary. “The prime Minister’s office called. They wish to pencil you in to escort a Miss Daphne Bergendorf to several events in two weeks time. I was led to believe, by the staff of the Prime Minister, that you had previously agreed to these events. Is that correct, and do you wish me to arrange for security and transportation, Sir?”

Since I’d promised, there was nothing to do but help the government entertain the young lady. “Yes, Mr. Howard. Please have them set it up and let me know what arrangements you are able to make.” Sometime soon I would meet the scion of some impossibly rich, foreign born, woman and spend an evening squiring her about town. Unusually, for me, I completely forgot about Daphne Bergendorf and concentrated on my father’s and grandfather’s holdings.

Out of the blue I received two visitors one morning.

“Lord Terrance,” It was the butler. “You have an official visitor, Sir. Chief Younger, from MI-6 and his aide are in the downstairs study. He says he must speak with you immediately. The cook is bringing him refreshments. May I tell him how soon you will be able to see him?”

“Please tell Mr. Younger that I will down in just a moment.” The formal air of my staff was getting to me, I decided. Suddenly I was speaking like a titled Englishman.

“Mr. Younger, how can I help you, Sir?” He looked like whatever brought him to my city house was important so I showed him and the woman who seemed so angry when I visited MI6 into the study, where I requested appropriate refreshments be served, and that we not be disturbed for any reason. Once Younger was content with hot tea, fresh fruit, and a plate of scones, they shared their news.

“Lord Terrance, you were very kind to accommodate us a short time ago. Our investigation has turned up numerous problems we did not count on when we had you fire those eight executives.

“Sir, it seems that those men were into some very bad things, and four of the eight were murdered in their cells on the Isle of Wright. That is quite scary since the prison is very aggressively secured. Of the four surviving members of your former staff, three are singing their hearts out, disclosing all kinds of secrets that we would have spent years searching for.

“Among those secrets is one that concerns me very much and has to do with your personal security...”

I held up my hand. “Chief Younger, I would like to get my head of security in on this conversation, so that we are on the same page...”

I never got to finish my sentence.

“Lord Terrance, one of the secrets your former executives have provided is the name of your head of security. Sir, it seems like he plays for the other side...” That came from the angry woman. She was tall, spare, angry, and seemed wrapped very tight as she blurted out the news.

That got my attention. We had to change significant security personnel because of the shooting in Texarkana. How had our lawyers missed this? Chief Younger saw my confusion and spoke before I wrapped myself up in recriminations. “Lord Terrance, your head of security has a very bad gambling habit. The people that turned him used his addiction to crush him, and it apparently worked to a tee.

“My assistant in charge of internal security,” he indicated the angry woman, “Jessica Davidson warned me about your personal security problem late last night. We have undertaken to surveil your entire team, as well as put certain ... safeguards ... in place, should you become at risk in any way.”

Jessica Davidson actually smiled.

Well ... Ok.

It wasn’t a smile in the classical sense of the word. She frowned less aggressively. Jessica was dressed like a prosecuting attorney on that morning. Her formal suit fit her frame perfectly. Jessica was thin, but not skinny. Her breasts were a little oversized for her body, and downplayed by the cut of her suit top. What I could see of her legs beneath the modest length skirt, was that they were slender and well - toned. I could imagine helping her out of every piece of her ensemble and introducing her to my friend, Mr. Johnson.

Younger was paying attention to my perusal of his assistant. He went on. “Mr. Eckland liked betting on sport more than he liked his wife and children. He liked gambling more than he liked living in a house. Poor Mr. Eckland liked gambling more than he liked his freedom, because our chaps arrested him outside your front door as I arrived. He is on his way to the Ilse of Wright. I’m afraid he won’t like his new life at all. The only gambling he will be doing is placing wagers on whether lunch will be lukewarm, or hot.

“What Mr. Eckland enjoyed as of late, was selling information on your schedule and visitors.”

Suddenly, Chief Younger had my full attention.

“Sir, I am sorry to bring this all down on you. We would advise you to dismiss your entire security force, replace them with one from our list of dependable contactors, and have the new people completely go over your properties, telephones, and all electronic devices to be assured that they are not bugged. It will take a little time, but my people are quite happy to cover you in the meantime.”

I excused myself for just a moment, called the firm we used and explained the circumstances quite plainly, asking them to recall their staff from my properties, and open a deep inquiry into the buying, selling, and gambling habits of their entire staff. The poor man nearly had a heart attack when I informed him that our head of security was being transported to prison for his crimes, and that I held the firm personally responsible for any and all difficulties that their neglect had caused us.