And what if it wasn’t the daughter of the house who returned home after her birching and her spell in jail, but the live-in maid in the employ of a prosperous, single gentleman?
She’d stand before him in her Sunday best dress, in which she’d been sentenced – and subsequently flogged – a week before.
“You have twenty minutes to clear your belongings and be gone,” he’d tell her.
“But sir… I’ve taken my punishment, sir…”
“I cannot have a common criminal living under my roof. I have written you a reference, but I’ve been obliged to tell the truth: I’m not sure whether it will help you or not.”
“It was all a mistake, sir. And I won’t do it again, I promise. I’d do anything…”
A long pause, before he took her chin firmly in his hand and lifted her eyes to his. “Anything?”
“Yes, sir. Please…”
“Well… You’ve always been a good girl up to now. And you are a pretty young thing. Maybe you could earn a second chance. Anything, eh?” Whereupon he’d take her by the hair, and lead her upstairs to his bedroom. He’d strip her roughly; bend her over the bed; whip her with his belt, before taking her at her word – “anything” – and proceeding to do things that would shame her far more than any prison birching.
It’s that darn ‘anything’ that gets a girl into more fun…I mean, trouble than the original crime.
Oh, I likes it when the master of the house drags the maid upstairs by her hair.