Free Hall of Infamy by Amanita Virosa Page A

questioning expression.
    â€˜Do you think I – we – might have these awful straps and things removed? We’ve been trussed up like this for ages and it’s ever so uncomfortable.’
    To Amelia’s distress, Alicia pursed her lips, as if considering this carefully. ‘Not just yet, Amelia, I think.’
    Amelia’s heart sank as her aunt sat on the chaise, still holding their leashes, and indicated that the girls should get down on their knees. She tried another tack, for her need was becoming urgent.
    â€˜Please, Aunt, I – I really do need to be excused.’
    â€˜To be excused?’ Alicia arched an eyebrow enquiringly.
    â€˜To go – I need to go.’
    â€˜But to go where?’ Alicia idly picked a dressage-whip from the chaise with her free hand.
    â€˜To – to – to… I need to use the, the water-closet.’
    â€˜Oh!’ Lady Alicia put the tip of the crop beneath Amelia’s chin, lifted it and beamed. ‘You need to go and do pee-pee! Silly girl, why on earth did you not say?’
    â€˜I…’ Amelia blushed, abashed by her aunt’s evident amusement.
    â€˜Did that beast Jamie not let you squat before had your bath?’
    Now Amelia’s cheeks turned crimson, and she knew Alicia was mocking her. Jamie had indeed offered her the use of a bucket in the nursery parlour before she had taken her bath. She had refused indignantly. Watching Clara tinkle into the bucket, frilly knickers around her ankles, as tears of pure embarrassment ran down the blonde girl’s face, had not persuaded Amelia to change her mind. The nursery water-closet was kept locked now, and Jamie held the key, but she had told herself the chance was sure to come. If she absolutely had to, she had reasoned, she could even fill her bath a little more, once she got out of it. At least that would be in private. Unfortunately, Jamie’s abrupt entrance had put paid to that particular scheme.
    Amelia looked up at her aunt and pleaded with her eyes. The pressure in her bladder was getting worse all the time. For a long moment, she looked into her aunt’s dark brown eyes and tried to fathom what the woman was thinking. At last, Lady Alicia leant forward and patted Amelia fondly on the cheek.
    â€˜You know, you really should have gone when you had the chance,’ she said, and once again her beautiful face broke into a dazzling smile.
    â€˜I wonder what Hope Hall will be like?’ Emma risked a shy smile at her companion as the carriage lumbered out of the reformatory gates.
    Polly was seated opposite her. The interior of the coach was functional, even grim, with doors of black-painted iron, and the small windows were barred. However, the seats were of horse-hair and leather, and soft enough to mitigate the poor suspension over uneven ground. Emma was profoundly grateful for this, as the after-effects of her ‘farewell’ still lingered on the tender skin of her rear.
    â€˜At least we are quit of that place.’ Polly gestured with her free hand in the direction from which the coach had come. ‘You’ll be all right, I expect.’ The big girl gave Emma a wan smile.
    â€˜I’m sure you will be, too,’ Emma said reassuringly.
    The coach hit a rut and lurched violently, throwing both girls about on their seats. Only the handcuff, which manacled Emma’s left hand to a bar set by the carriage door, prevented her from being thrown to the floor. She rubbed her wrist ruefully, for the violence of the motion had caused it to chafe against the iron bond. She looked at Polly, who had her own left wrist secured to the opposite door.
    â€˜I’m not so sure,’ Polly said quietly. ‘They obviously mean to make you a lady’s-maid, eventually, but I think that the Marquis had special plans for me.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Emma smiled encouragingly, although what she had overheard in the reformatory courtyard concerning her