"Well, well ...” said Ben, quietly. "I see now that what they say is true, for all you insist to the contrary. You do have some mean little mouth on you, eh?" he said and stepped slowly into the kitchen.
"What on earth kind of way is that to speak to your elders? You're in our village now, Miss Gilday. Not an east London tavern. Perhaps you've not quite come to realise that as yet? Have you?" he gazed at her disapprovingly.
Lorette glowered.
"It's none of your business, Mister Markham. And I don't believe you've been invited to tea. Have you?"
She looked about at Betsy and Walter for help, but none was forthcoming.
"With your permission, Mister Mountford," said Ben removing his cap, "I reckon as though Miss Gilday and I could do with a little chat, don't you? About manners? And respect?"
Reverend Walker smiled slyly as Betsy looked down at the floor. Lorette was confused. What on earth was he talking about? He was a perfect stranger who had no right to speak to her this way, in her own premises.
Wally spoke with quiet measure.
"I do believe you're right, my young fellow. Seems our esteemed hostess here does not quite have the measure of what it is to cheek your elders, in these parts. I know you're a man of wise means. I'd be grateful, I'm sure. In fact we all would be, if you put Miss Gilday straight on a few matters before this scheme of hers goes much further. Enough is enough. And such bad behaviour ought best be remedied swiftly."
Lorette looked round at them all as she felt a panic begin to rise within her. She felt cornered and powerless.
"Now, I'm sure we needn't argue about it," she said nervously. "I really didn't mean to offend. We must all just - get used to each other, don't you think?" She attempted a feeble smile.
"I really must be getting along, in any case. I've to spend the afternoon looking at the ledgers. After all, the books won't run themselves now, will they?" Lorette could hear her voice grow weak.
"Believe you me, you rude little madam," said Ben through his teeth. "Come this afternoon you'll have no word of your ledgers. Sitting at a desk will be quite out of the question. I'd perhaps put all thought of such tasks to one side for the foreseeable."
Slowly marching towards her with firm purpose, Ben looked stern-faced and threatening. Lorette's heart began to race and she stepped backwards out of his path. Standing in front of her, he embarked on a solemn lecture.
"Your snooty, cheeky ways will not be tolerated here. People in Calding stick together and we have our traditions. They might not be everyone's, but they serve us better than well and have done for generations. Owner of The Wild Thyme you may now be, but you have scant idea of the way we keep house up here. Well, I know one thing. Your great-uncle is spinning in his grave with your mouthing off and tantrums. I know exactly what he would do, were he here!"
Ben made to grab her arm, but quick as a shot she ducked his reach and ran around the table. The Reverend Walker looked delighted. Betsy gasped. Her blood running cold at the tone of Ben's threat, Lorette fled.
"Come here, you cheeky little brat!" he almost yelled as he gave chase. In a split second, Lorette was out of the back door and running for all her worth down through the gardens again. She could not believe the madness of it all. What on earth was he doing, and what did they all mean ganging up on her this way? He surely didn't mean to - chastise her in some horrid way? As she felt Ben gain on her from behind, she ran faster, her heart thumping in her chest.
"Keep away from me, you madman!" she squealed, but it was too late. All of a sudden she felt his arm on her shoulder as he spun her round to face him. Lorette lifted her palm to slap his cheek, but he stilled her effortlessly with his hand. Without a further word, he leaned down and grabbed her by the legs. Hoisting her high and right over his shoulder, he began to walk briskly further down towards the river. She swung like a poorly filled sack, kicking her legs in fury.
"No! How dare you? Put me down! Put me down this instant, you hear? Betsy! Help!"
But Lorette was thrust so far forward and down his back towards the ground that she could barely be heard back at the hotel, where all three of the older folk had gathered at the door to watch the sorry scene unfold. As Ben marched his captive out of sight, they each frowned as they imagined the ensuing punishment. Silently, they remarked to themselves how badly it had been earned. Making their way back to the table, there was an air of resignation.
"Oh dear, Betsy," said Reverend Walker, helping himself to another jam tart.
"Some young ladies just will not take a telling. I fancy the young Markham boy was quite correct. Miss Gilday will likely have little interest in her precious ledgers this afternoon. Perhaps a spell in her bed with a heated spot will be the cure-all? I've never know it to fail."
Reddening, the cook remained silent as Walter nodded slowly. Over the years, her awe of the Church had meant deference to Walker. But in recent times she had found him increasingly condescending, and all at once felt a pang of irritation at his being a part of this distressing tableau under the roof she occupied. She hoped that the wise young Markham would not be too hard on Lorette, but at the same time it was her greatest wish that he would make just exactly the impression that was needed, to tether the young hotel owner firm to the ground. For all their sakes.
As she was paraded writhing through the garden, Lorette wished with all her might that Ben might drop dead on the spot. She was utterly enraged.
"You can't do this! You just can't!" She swung about helplessly as her long dark brown hair spilled loose from its clasps. Bouncing helplessly over his broad shoulder, she kicked her legs high in the air and thumped his broad back with her tiny fists. She might as well be trying to turn back the tide.
"You are mad and evil! I shall have you put in prison! Just you wait!" she hissed, close to tears.
But Ben was not to be deterred and continued towards the lower end of the grounds, in the wild herb garden. As she squealed and protested, he placed her roughly on her feet a second and gripped her tightly by the upper arm, glancing casually around him as she grew frantic.
Horrified, Lorette tried to yank her hand from his. Panicking, she dug her heels in the grass as he dragged her towards one of the many felled trees that littered the grounds.
"No! Let go of me! This is a disgrace! Help! HELP!" she yelled as he hauled her towards the felled tree.
"You can't. No! NO!"
He listened to not a word. On her final high-pitched protest, he sat down on the gnarled wood and pulled her roughly face down over his knees. She thrashed her arms in fury and disbelief.
"You're off your head, Ben Markham. Stop this outrage right this minute!"
She squealed and kicked .With his right foot, Ben pinned her calves towards the ground and wasted no time in lifting up her thin cotton summer dress. She howled in rage as she felt the warm afternoon air on her bare legs. With scant ceremony, he rolled up the skirt of the dress in a bunch at her waist. He grinned as he observed her pert, perfect bottom encased in yellow satin cami-knickers, quivering as she writhed and beat her fists.
"How dare you, you pig! This is a disgrace. You will pay for this, you animal!" Lorette howled, embarrassment engulfing her as she felt his eyes on her lower half. She had never been more frightened, not even at the height of the Blitz. That at least was a fear shared, and understood. This was quite the most appalling affront. She beat her arms and kicked as hard as she could.
"If you lay one finger on me," she growled, struggling to keep her head from touching the ground as she wriggled. "I swear I will have you arrested and thrown into jail! Let me go, I tell you! Oh!"
Ben remained calm as he gazed at her tight satin knickers, her shapely bottom upended and perfectly placed for the punishment she had demanded with her short-tempered, spiteful outbursts.
"I'm not only going to lay one finger on you, you exasperating little madam. I'm going to lay all five of my right hand. Hard across the very lovely spot I'm looking at right now. Till you feel it good and proper, and learn to mind your tongue. I doubt you've ever had it. Would have saved me the trouble, if someone else had had the good sense when you were younger. Well, won't take me long to put it right," he said as he raised his right knee slightly, making a target of her barely covered rear.
""No-don't-you-dare-don't-you-DARE!!! Oh I loathe you! Help me, someone, please!" Lorette screamed hysterically.
Ben was absolutely right of course. Da had never once done such a thing to her. There was the odd swat with a wooden spoon from her deeply frustrated mother over her younger years, but nothing more, and Lorette had never known the feeling of being put face-down over a knee. Until now.
And there in the middle of her beloved wild herb garden, Ben commenced on giving Lorette the soundest spanking he had ever administered. Betsy, Walter and the Reverend Walker were just out of earshot - only a little too far away - to hear the long, piercing shriek that the teen gave out as his broad hand first made contact with her scantily covered bottom, smacking it very hard. Tears of humiliation pricked her eyes.
"Noooo! How dare you? You evil brute! Stop-that-NOW! OW!"
But she was utterly defeated, pinned over his knees.
With grim determination and the full force of his strong palm, Ben spanked her briskly and soundly, and long.
"Ow! NO! Beast! Hate you - ow-ow-OW! Stop it!" she screamed in a frenzy of rage and humiliation, as the spanking gathered pace.
"You'll learn, you brat!" Ben hissed as his hand came down hard and fast against the exquisite soft cushions of her bottom.
"Yow! Aow! Oh, how I hate this. Stop it! No! Oaw!" she yelled as the loud smacks rang out in the open air.
Her modesty had suffered most when first he had turned her over and raised her dress. Very quickly however, her bottom hurt far more than her ego. The crescents of her lower cheeks, where there was no satin cover, grew the hottest pink with every blow from Ben's strict, stretched hand. Lorette could never in her worst nightmares have thought such a thing possible, from someone she had barely met and had found so charming and disarming. It was such a miserable, sore undoing. She felt she would certainly never recover from it.
"Ow! I hate you! Stop it! Let me go! You're evil! STOP!" she howled, as Ben's hard, flat hand bounced up and down across her soft pert cheeks. Methodical and thorough, he spanked every inch of her bottom as she continued to protest loudly.
She had the shapeliest rear he had ever seen, and he delighted quietly in knowing it was turning a very warm pink underneath the satin. As she bawled and protested and kicked, his heart raced. She was so beautiful, so alluring. He dared not wonder if this would be the end for them, before they had even begun. But all he knew, in that moment, was that he had to get through to her the error of her ways. Only the soundest spanking would see to that. With continued energy, his hand continued to dole out the painful lesson to her soft, vulnerable behind.
"You nasty devil! Stop!" Lorette was hysterical as she squirmed against the stiff, merciless spanking hand that seemed to grow harder and larger as her awful chastisement continued.
She was in misery, the raging fire in her bottom unbearable. In the open air, not caring who might see or hear them, this young man had become cross enough with her to disgrace and hurt her. Weeping as the smacks rained down and hot pain in her rear took over all other feelings, Lorette wanted to die. Gasping, she flailed her arms and beat her fists furiously on the ground. Chestnut waves of hair collapsed about her face, and her generous breasts strained against the scoop-necked cleavage of the tiny summer dress. Tucking his arm tighter around her waist, Ben quickened the pace of his hand as she screeched in enraged helplessness. Still he did not let up. Across his knee, she began to grow limp and sobbed, at last, no words left with which to rail or insult.
Seeing the deep red blush of her bottom through the fabric and at the edges of her cheeks, now oven hot to his palm, he delivered another half dozen very hard blows to her lower mounds where her buttocks met her thighs. Then at last he stopped. Locked fast across his knees, Lorette lay heavy and weeping. He could feel her fast-beating heart against his stomach. She growled in fury, resolving to punch his face hard as soon as she was able to stand up. But Ben had the entire measure of the situation. With his hand still resting on her throbbing bottom, he spoke again quietly and sternly.
"And now that you've been punished for your appalling tongue, we shall see to your cooling off. You will learn to behave just as you ought to in this village, Lorette, if you are to stand the slightest chance of making good with us all. I've no doubt Wally and everyone else will thank me for it."
Still flailing over his lap, the awful humiliation of her predicament now equal again to the terrible pain, Lorette vowed to go straight back to London that very evening. Never again would she darken the door of The Wild Thyme. She would sell it, be gone for good. And have him arrested for this dreadful, unimaginable deed.
"Oh how I detest you!" she sobbed.
"How dare you do this? You had no right. Oh, if only I could strike you down! I hate you, I tell you. I do!" The tears spilled from her eyes as her bottom blazed in agony.
"At this very moment, yes, I dare say you do," Ben said calmly, his stiff palm still laid across her aching buttocks. She squirmed underneath his touch.
"But you will very soon thank me for putting you on the straight and narrow. A good old-fashioned spell over the knee was exactly what you were begging for. Your abrupt mouth would have tripped you up far worse in the end."
Then, taking care not to lose his grip on her, he encircled Lorette's neat waist with his left arm and lifted her up as he stood. Facing backwards as he carried her, she thrashed her arms and legs.
"What - what are you doing?!" she moaned pitifully and kicked some more. Her dress was still raised, with her cami-knickers and pink bottom exposed. She sobbed miserably. Ben remained unmoved. In ten long strides as she squirmed and fought, he made it down to the river. There was a pool about two feet deep, where tangled mosses grew. Leaning down and forward, as she screamed out loud in rage-filled protest, Ben dumped Lorette on her bottom in the river. She sank to her waist, her legs splashing upwards as the freezing cold water enveloped her, and she made contact with the silt below.
Bashing the river's surface with her fists, she howled like a baby as Ben laughed gently.
"You are a miserable, wretched animal and I will see you dead for this. Dead, you hear?” Her words tumbled forth almost indiscernibly through her choking tears.
He folded his arms and looked down at her. Even soaking wet with her hair and clothes in complete disarray, he had never seen any girl more beautiful. With her bottom soundly spanked and her ego deflated entirely, he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms. For now though, he wagged a finger crossly.
"You just be glad of the chance to cool off like I said, you little tyke. You didn't get anything you haven't justly earned with your wayward mouth and your insults. It's one thing to take charge, another altogether to treat the rest of us like worthless sots. That's a fine way for a so-called lady to conduct herself! Way you talked back to everyone just there would have shamed a three-year-old. That's why you've ended up treated just like one, over my knee for a jolly good spanking. You think on that."
Sitting stranded in the water, her hot thumping behind sinking lower in the mushy silt, Lorette finally gave up. With no words of anger left to spend, she closed her eyes and wept loudly like a newborn baby. He nodded slowly.
"That's more like it. Less of your mouth and a bit more humility. Now, I shall sit here till you are ready to say sorry, and until you do so. And I will help you from the water and take you home. But only when I hear you apologise properly for the way you cheeked those harmless folks back there at the hotel. If there's any more of your temper, it's straight back over my knee with you. And believe me, a wet bum doesn't want another spanking, on top of what yours has just had, my girl."
Further mortified by his awful, threatening words, Lorette cried ever more sorrowfully. She found it hard to believe that this terrible thing - a very sound spanking on her knickers - had happened in this most beautiful place she loved with all her heart. All around her, the trees swayed in the summer breeze, and the birds called, oblivious to the drama that had taken place. The scent of the cuckoo flowers wafted from the river banks. But with her clothes drenched and her bottom in terrible agony, Lorette wondered how on earth she might ever recover from such a horrid and unforgettable thing.
Ben sat patiently on the log, playing with a long blade of grass. After a couple of minutes, he lit a cigarette and took a long, satisfying drag. His right palm was tingling and uncomfortably hot from having spanked her so hard, far harder than he had ever spanked Elsie. In many ways he too had greatly surprised himself. He knew Lorette must be feeling it badly. Hoping it would settle her down, he lay back and closed his eyes, the sweet mixed aroma of the herbs a comfort to him.
Lorette could have kicked herself for being so flagrant with her words. She was thankful that no one had seen her spanking, though she dreaded to think who might have overheard. Walter and Walker would greatly approve, of course. And soon everyone in Calding would know. That the Markham lad had put her over his knee in broad daylight, and spanked her till she screamed. And he had won. She had no option whatsoever now, but to say she was sorry just as he had demanded. It was either that or more horrid, embarrassing spanking. Or stay in the water till she froze to death. Eventually, wringing out the hem of her dress as she struggled to stand up, Lorette muttered "I'm sorry ...." "Beg your pardon?" said Ben, standing up.
"I said I'm sorry."
She didn't dare raise her voice for fear of incurring his wrath further.
"I'm sorry Ben. I really am. I shouldn't have said those things. There, I've said it. Please can I - can I get out of here? Please?"
Ben walked towards her again as she struggled to her feet, unsteady. Under the sodden dress, the drenched cami-knickers clung uncomfortably to her fiery throbbing bottom. The cold water had made scant difference and she longed to rub some of the awful sting away.
Holding out his hand, Ben remained unsmiling as he looked her up and down.
"You see the awful mess you landed yourself in, Lorette? And I dare say you feel it just as bad as I promised you, don't you?"
She nodded, deeply ashamed. He took her hand.
"You deserved a dashed good spanking. And it won't be too long till you see that clearly for yourself. Come along now. Home with you. You'll need out of these wet things."
They walked back up to the garden in silence, Lorette sniffing meekly as she slowly admitted to herself that Ben was absolutely right. She had behaved badly. Ben felt pleasantly calm as he held her tiny soft hand in his and knew that from now on, he would do everything he could to keep her safe.
"I've never been so badly treated in my life. That was awful! I can't believe it!" she said forlornly, rubbing the back of her dress discreetly.
"I know, silly one," he said and turned and reached behind her to pat her bottom very gently. Overcome with mixed emotions, she was suddenly desperate for him to rub her bottom better. The fleeting thought at once thrilled and scared her, when only minutes before she had yearned to rip him to shreds.
Back at the hotel, Betsy, Walker and Wally were still seated at the kitchen table. As the two young people walked slowly inside, Betsy stood up in alarm.
"Lorette! What on earth has happened? Did you fall in the river?" Before Lorette could utter a word, Ben spoke breezily.
"Let's just say she needed a quick cool down, Mrs Carmichael. But you needn't fret, there's no harm done. Leastways, no lasting damage." He could barely stifle a smile. "And we have had a very thorough talk, you can be most reassured. Miss Gilday has been left in no doubt that errant ways will meet with swift reproach here in Calding."
Turning to Lorette, he looked down at her small form with a frown.
"Now Lorette, you will apologise immediately to these fine people, making especial good with our minister, and repair to your room. There you will remain in bed until you rise tomorrow morning, in plenty of time for church. As I told you during our - discussion down by the river, in these parts we all work together."
Lorette's head hung in shame, hot tears falling to the floor as her lower half throbbed sorer than she'd ever have believed possible. She felt five years old, and helpless. Betsy felt instantly sorry for her, while the minister only met his old friend Walter's eyes with an approving nod. Lorette was desperate to rub her badly punished bottom, but could not countenance the satisfaction that would give to the older men seated before her. She loathed Walker with every inch of her being. Ben then spoke again as he looked down at her sternly.
"Now, Lorette. An apology. Unless it's another good warming to your backside that you're looking for."
Betsy looked down with a slight blush. Lorette felt she might be sick at his public rebuke, but knew that she had no alternative whatsoever. Ignoring Walter's scolding had proven disastrous, by dint of the younger man. She could not afford to risk doing so again. In all likelihood, Ben would have no issue with spanking her right here in front of everyone. It was clear that it was simply how things were done, in Calding.
"I - I am sorry for - " she muttered forlornly, struggling for words between gulps of tears. Walker replaced his tea cup, loving every minute of the scenario. He stared at her, gloating.
"I am sorry if I slighted you, Reverend. It will not - believe me it will not happen again!"
And with a fresh round of sobbing she ran from the kitchen and through the main hall, holding her knickers up through her creased dress. Blinded with tears, she all but fell up the staircase and made for the box-room. As Ben sat down at the table, all four of them heard its door slam behind her.
"My word, young man," said Reverend Walker, his eyebrows raised in Ben's direction, "it sounds as though our young friend has had her comeuppance. Always best to nip these things in the bud, isn't it? And are we to believe our little lady of London was denied at least some modesty? My word, but she had that coming to her, surely. I have never been spoken to in such defiant and unpleasant terms in all my days."
Ben sighed.
"Our heartfelt apologies, Reverend. Of course, I lifted her skirt. I had to do it that way, or do it no way at all. She's never known a decent tanning, that much is beyond argument. Had to be done right."
"I see," said the minister meanly. "I have to say I am in full agreement with your - methods. Won't you agree with me, Wally? When a lass spills a mouthful of disrespect such as that young madam did, she has sacrificed any right to dignity. I've two daughters of my own as you know. Many a time indeed that the Manse has been witness to their unpleasant but very necessary correction, given whilst lying over my lap."
Choosing her words rather awkwardly, Betsy smoothed out her serviette on the wooden table as Walter nodded sagely. He felt as though a weight had been lifted, and was grateful to Ben for making it so. The young firebrand had been put firmly in her place.
Betsy coughed.
"I shall - perhaps in a little while I mean - have a talk with her? She's bound to be in shock. I doubt as you say she's ever been turned over a knee before. She'll get over it alright, but I'll set her right in a little while and let her sleep it all off."
"Girl has been a loose cannon," Walter said roughly. "Fatherless, then left without her mother. All that war business has made her think she's Boadicea. Have a talk with her if you think it helps, Betsy m'dear. But you can tell her there's more of the same doings for her if she steps out of line again. And remind her will you that Reverend Walker's sermon starts at eleven sharp tomorrow. See how she feels then, sat down awhile with a sore reminder of her misdeeds. Serve her right!"
With that he, the minister and Ben closed their eyes to say grace, giving Betsy the chance to sneak a large slice of walnut cake on to her lap for Lorette.
After they had had tea, Betsy slowly climbed the stairs to the upper floors. In the box-room, she found Lorette face down on her little bed, sniffling like a small child. Without a word, Betsy reached down to help Lorette turn over and urged her to stand up. Helping her out of her wet frock, she glanced at her bottom, sore and glowing pink. The soaking wet knickers clung to her skin and the edges of her cheeks blazed a nasty hue. Lorette sniffed again ruefully as she wrapped the towel Betsy offered around her, and reached up underneath it. Yanking down the knickers, she thrust them on the floor in frustration and rage at herself, and at Ben for the horrible punishment. But no matter how hard she tried to force herself, she could not dismiss her fast growing feelings for him. It confused her dreadfully and made her feel even more cross. Most especially the odd, puzzling desire to have him make her sore bottom feel better. Never had such torrid feelings coursed through her veins.
"Goodness dearie! I see that Mister Markham went about the task rather thoroughly?" She observed Lorette's bright red bottom, as she dried herself off.
"So the men-folk of this parish resort to corporal punishment of grown women at the drop of a hat, Betsy? I'm affronted by their attitude. Please don't tell me that you approve of this brutal treatment? I have only just met the man and he thinks he can do that to me, like a little child? It's appalling and I shan't be letting him off with it!" Lorette huffed.
"Come now, dear," said Betsy earnestly. "You were the most dreadful hothead. Don't you think that in a place like this, any decent man will see to it you're given a hot end to match?" As she met Lorette's eyes, neither of them could conceal a faraway smile.
"It's an outrage, Betsy. He put me in the water. After he - he scolded and spanked me really hard! He had the audacity to pull up my frock! Can you believe it? Brute! I shan't sit too easily for days. I honestly can't believe how sore a hand could feel. And if my backside hurts this bad, well you can imagine how my pride feels. Being put flat over his knee like that! So embarrassing! I'm nineteen after all!"
But Lorette was already less convinced, coming to terms with the fact that the more Ben had railed at her, the more astonishingly attractive she had found him. Betsy was businesslike.
"Well, I must say he's always struck me as a fine young man. He's been in sole charge of that house ever since Alwyn Markham was killed. And it can't be easy. Katy takes ill more times than not, and he's had to keep body and soul together for them all." "I know," said Lorette wistfully as she dabbed her tingling bottom dry.
"He seems the old-fashioned sort, in more ways than one! But the thing is, I hardly recognise myself, Betsy. If a man - any man - had tried to do what he's just done even a month ago, I'd have had them tied to a tree and horse-whipped! I really can't believe it!" She winced slightly as she pulled on clean knickers, and Betsy shook out her nightgown.
"Well all I can say," said Betsy thoughtfully, as she shook out Lorette's nightgown, "is that he had to have his mind made up towards you, in doing as he's done. Besides, a good spanking never killed any lass. You'd had more than one blow-up with Wally, and you musn't - you really musn't dear - talk to the Reverend Walker as you did, dear." Lorette looked contrite for a fleeting second, staring at the nightgown. Was she seriously being sent to bed, in the middle of the day, like a naughty toddler?
"And you're still in one piece, eh? If you and Ben did have cross words between you, well, better that than a silence? That can eat away at the best of people. You remember too, some fellas out there are too handy with their fists. A spanking's hardly the same thing, and I really do think Ben was only looking out for you. Maybe he'll make it up to yet, eh? Good-looking boy, always was. And he has a heart of gold."
As she combed out her damp, curling hair, Lorette found herself unable to disagree. Her life had changed so dramatically since she had first heard her great-aunt's will read, hardly daring to believe that the solicitor's words were true, that it was her name being spoken. Things were moving so fast and yet, deep down, she had to admit to herself that everything was starting to feel right. Something she could never have said of being with Henry, no matter what fun and excitement they had shared together in London.
"Come on now, let's get your nightie on and you can think on all that's been said and done, dear," Betsy was firm as she pulled the nightgown over her young mistress's head.
"Must I really?" Lorette sulked. "I feel like I'm a prisoner in my own hotel! What's it got to do with him? He doesn't even live here. Why should I go to bed in the middle of the day? He's not my father!" She heard her voice rise and tears begin to form once more.
Holding her brusquely by the chin, Betsy leaned down and looked straight into her eyes.
"For the last time, Lorette Gilday. You heard what Ben said. Round here, there's only one punishment for rude, disobedient lasses. So don't expect me to stop him, if he proves good to his word. You take one step down those stairs right now and I reckon he'll fan that flame you feel in your bot, before you can say Jack Sprat. Now, I've brought you a piece of lovely cake and shortly I'll fetch you a nice hot drink. But you mark my words, bed's the safest place for you while you come to terms with what's right and what's wrong. You're not in London now." Blushing bright red yet knowing she was absolutely right, Lorette clambered into bed sadly and lay on her side, at last able to reach behind her and rub the relentless, hot blazing sting that Ben had left there. But while every ounce of her reason demanded that she curse him to hell and back, she found that she simply could not.