Free Hall of Infamy by Amanita Virosa Page B

fellow passenger had puzzled her. ‘Never mind, your job might be even better.’ Polly showed no sign of cheering up, so Emma decided it might be best to change the subject. She looked around the prison carriage again.
    â€˜What were you in for?’
    The big girl gave a resigned shrug. ‘Oh, the usual. Gross moral turpitude. They caught me with a proscribed book. And you?’
    Emma blushed, the shame of her conviction and the proceedings of the court still fresh. ‘Immodesty and immorality,’ she whispered and hung her head. ‘I – they said I was pert to my mistress, when I would not… do something she asked… and, and then they said there were these stains on my sheets…’ Emma blinked away a tear as she remembered the terrible injustice of it all. She looked up at the brown-eyed girl who was watching her sympathetically, and cheered up a little at the sight of a friendly face – a rather beautiful friendly face, at that.
    â€˜This is a surprise, anyway,’ she said. ‘When we arrived at the bridewell, we were just marched up from the train. I did not even know they had carriages like this.’
    â€˜They don’t,’ Polly said flatly. The coach passed under some trees and it became gloomier inside the padlocked carriage. ‘I heard a wardress talking.’ She looked at Emma. ‘It seems this thing was sent by our new employers.’ Both girls looked at the barred windows of the prison coach, and back at each other. ‘Apparently, this splendid carriage is the property of Hope Hall.’
    â€˜I know it’s hard, girls, but we all have to go through it.’
    Amelia knelt next to Clara as their aunt, still holding their leashes in one hand and the long crop in the other, explained a little about their situation.
    â€˜Well, actually,’ Lady Alicia continued, smiling smugly, ‘it was different for me. But then, of course, I come from a different country.’
    â€˜Well, I don’t see why—’ Amelia muttered mutinously.
    â€˜Shhh, you must learn to speak when you are spoken to, if you wish to avoid… unpleasantness. There is a saying in Hatherby, which is “to bestow, first you must know”. The Marquises of Hatherby and their families all have to taste the bitter dregs of servitude before they can be entrusted to wield the rod of true authority. In other words, if you wish power and privilege, you need to find out how it feels to be subjected to them.’
    â€˜So why isn’t Jamie on a chain, then?’ Amelia said sullenly.
    Lady Alicia sighed, put down the crop and dropped the girls’ leashes. She leant forward and lifted Amelia’s face gently until the young woman was looking into her dark eyes. The older woman shook her head regretfully.
    The slap was so sudden Amelia did not see it coming. Lady Alicia’s left hand held her head, gently but firmly, as her right cracked across Amelia’s cheek. ‘Speak when you are spoken to,’ she repeated slowly, eyes twinkling with merriment.
    Rather than take up their leashes, she beckoned Clara to shuffle forward on her knees, and began unstrapping her bonds.
    â€˜Jamie,’ she said, apparently electing to answer the question, despite having slapped Amelia for having the temerity to ask it, ‘like Alex before him, attended public school.’
    â€˜Now,’ she said to the unbound Clara, ‘slip those silly frilly knickers off. I know they amuse young Jamie, but they give your pretty bottom a sight too much protection for the games we are going to play. Stand now, dear, and place your hands behind your neck. Look, Amelia, did you ever see such a pretty little sex? Mrs Pritchard tells me you enjoyed your shaving, by the way.’
    Amelia blinked at Clara’s shaven quim. As she was still on her knees, it was mere inches from her face. Her mouth felt dry. A potent mixture of fear and desire coursed through her