Fourpennies
Synopsis
Life dramatically changed for the worse when Ruth's protector died and his son took charge of the household.
Warning
The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only. 
If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now. 
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.
Copyright obohobo 2002
Fourpennies
by obohobo

Ruth Lavenby stumbled painfully along the rough unmetalled road. The rain had stopped and the moon was just beginning to shine through the scudding clouds that raced across the sky. She pulled the towel around her sore shoulders trying to keep some of the cold from biting into her flesh but the effort was futile. The towel was soaking wet from the heavy rain. This apart from the rags tied around her feet was the only garment she wore. Mud from her not infrequent falls mixed with the blood oozing from the whip marks that covered her body. She had to keep going. She had to get away from Rosebury Hall, her home for the last eighteen years. Her hell for the last month.
**********

Lord Robert Lavenby adopted (or taken in as there were no formal adoption procedures), Ruth while she was still a baby and Ruth, to this day, had no idea who her real parents were. Lord Robert took her in as a companion to his daughter, Sarah after his wife, Lady Rebecca Lavenby, died whilst giving birth to Sarah. Sarah was then a year old. The two girls grew up as sisters and Lord Robert treated them both equally as his daughters. He employed a governess to educate them. Ruth was very bright and quickly mastered reading and particularly mathematics. Sarah was bright too but was more adept at practical things like embroidery and painting. The pair complimented each other. 
Living in a large rambling mansion with servants to tend to their needs, they lived a life of relative luxury although Lord Robert did insist they did some chores themselves “To prepare yourselves for when you become wives.” They made their own bed and often helped cook prepare meals. It was a happy household with the staff well treated.
The only fly in the ointment was Edward, Sarah’s older brother. He was eight years older and a demanding, spoilt brat; a bully who liked to torment the girls whenever he was able. By the age of sixteen he had seduced many of the female staff and enjoyed a reputation as a hard drinking, rough womaniser. Most of the younger female staff went in fear of him because if they refused his advances they were likely to receive a thrashing from his belt. They didn’t dare complain to his lordship either because of fear of further punishment. However, when he tried to seduce his nine year old sister, Marie, one the less timid staff immediately went to the master and Edward was caught red handed with his trousers down and with Sarah trying unsuccessfully to prevent his unwanted attention. Lord Robert gave the boy a small allowance and banished him from Rosebury Hall.
Serious punishments were not a common occurrence. Ruth was only spanked three times in the eighteen years she lived with Lord Robert. The last time when she was 14 years old. Workmen were renovating part of the structure and Ruth was told to keep away partly because of the rough, down to earth language used by the men and partly because the site area was a quagmire of mud. Curiosity got the better of Ruth and she went to see what was being done and in doing so managed to get her dress very muddy. Before she could change her father had spotted it. He was very angry and sent for the cook. “Take this disobedient child Mildred, and give her a good spanking and then make her wash and iron the dress herself. Perhaps then she will learn when I say not to go to the building site, it means exactly that.” Despite her pleas she was led to the kitchen.
“Take the dress off Ruth and anything you have underneath it. I’m not going to spank you through your clothing.” Once again Ruth pleaded she would be good. “I know you will,” Mildred continued, “Especially when you’ve a sore bottom to remind you. Now stop trying to worm out of it and get yourself ready or I’ll have to get a couple of the boys in to hold you.”
Blushing with shame, Ruth took off her dress and underclothes and laid over the cook’s lap with her bare rear ready presented for its punishment. Cook picked up the long handled wooden spoon normally used for jam making. Lifting it high she brought it down hard on Ruth’s arse. The loud THWACK was followed by and equally loud scream from Ruth.
“We’ll have less of that screaming, girl,” commanded Mildred, “I haven’t started on you yet.” Mildred wasn’t a cruel woman and she liked Ruth and normally allowed her in the kitchen to help with baking. Today though, she had been ordered to chastise a disobedient child and that is what she was going to do. It was for the girl’s own good.
THWACK, THWACK, THWACK. The spoon resounded and reddened the now sobbing girls bottom. After a dozen good spanks Mildred stopped. Placing her hands on the sore flesh she decided it was warm enough. Ruth would remember that for a long time. She knew the girl wasn’t usually naughty and didn’t want to alienate her. 
“There we are young lady, it's all over now. Go and stand in the corner with your hands on your head and think on why I had to do it.” She left Ruth for about a quarter of an hour while she carried on with her work, then called the girl to her. Pulling her close to her bosom she gave her a long hug and a kiss and said, “Sorry I had to do that Ruth but its over now. You know what you have to do next don’t you?” 
Ruth nodded and went and collected the dress. “I’m sorry too, Cook, I only wanted to see what they were doing but I won’t go again. It’s too painful.” She couldn’t really complain about her treatment. It was after all the same general punishment the staff had for their misdemeanours, certainly nothing like the birching Ella had last month.
Ella was an upstairs maid who was leaving to get married. The boy was only a lowly farm worker whose wages would hardly pay the rent on a one room cottage so when Ella spied a ring that had belonged to Lady Rebecca she slipped it into her apron. “She doesn’t need it now,” she thought. Unfortunately she forgot it was there and it flipped to the floor when she took the apron off in the kitchen at mealtime. Most of the staff saw it and she was taken to Lord Robert. He was absolutely horrified. The ring had great sentimental as well as intrinsic value. It was the last piece of jewellery he had given his wife before her untimely death. For the first time for many years he ordered the birching horse to be brought up from the cellar and new birch rods obtained and pickled ready. 
That evening the wretched woman was stripped naked and fastened to the horse. She cried and pleaded for forgiveness but the sentence was to be carried out. All the staff and family members were present to witness the birching. Richards the butler was assigned the task, a task he had never previously undertaken and had only once seen a man receive the birch. Nevertheless he stood ready to do his best. He had been butler at the Hall when her ladyship had died and had fond memories of her. Like the others he was mortified that Ella could have even thought of stealing her ring. 
“Two dozen and lay them on well, Richards,” commanded his Lordship.
“I will that Sir.” The birch was actually three, three foot long rods bound together at the handle end. Each stroke would leave three welts across the victims flesh. Richards lay the first one on with moderate force across the tops of her thighs. Ella shrieked and screamed and struggled in her bonds but they were too well fastened. Three slightly diverging stripes appeared across her flesh. Richards aimed the second stroke at the bottom of her buttocks, this time he used more force and the welts raised were larger and more vivid in colour. It brought renewed screams and pleas from Ella. Ten strokes were applied to her arse. By then the thirty welts had mingled into one vast area of blistered pain. 
Realising any more strokes in that area would break the skin, Richards started at her shoulder and worked down stopping before he reached the kidneys. Ella’s screams had turned to loud moans and it was obvious that she had reached the maximum amount of pain her body would allow without becoming unconscious. After the twentieth stroke Richards looked to his master, who nodded and then said, “That’s enough. Leave her there for everyone to see for fifteen minutes and then Cook, you see to her.” Everyone, including the two girls, were made to file past the sobbing woman to get a close look at the punishment marks. Everyone prayed they would never have to suffer a birching like that. Most thought it a fitting punishment for a heinous crime. She could have been sent to jail or even received the death sentence.

Sex education was not on the formal curricula but the girls received adequate instruction outside the classroom. They knew their father took several of the maids to his room as ‘bedwarmers’ and they often chatted to each other in the presence of the girls about what when on while they were under the covers. “’E aint arf a randy ole sod,” Mary remarked to one of the other maids after a stint as a bedwarmer, “Didn’t get nar kip till near dawn and then I has to git up and start agin fust thing.” She went on to describe in some detail just how Lord Robert had fucked her both front and back several times. “Hi’s not ruff wi’ it like yer know,” she went on.
Sarah and Ruth knew Mary didn’t mind too much what she did in the masters bed. They had seen her coupling several times with Jock, the stable boy. First time it was by accident. They we playing in the hayloft when the pair came in and made themselves a little den in the hay on the floor below. The flooring of the old hayloft had long since shrunk leaving gaps as wide as a finger in many places. Besides a number of the knots had fallen out giving the voyeuristic pair a good chance of watching those below without being seen. 
When the door opened the two girls froze and remained quiet, wondering if their hideout in the hayloft would be discovered but no, Jock and Mary kept to the ground floor and made their way to the end of the barn into a previously hollowed out area in the hay. There they would not be seen by anyone entering the barn. However, it was directly below where Sarah and Ruth were sitting. The pair below didn’t waste any time on niceties. Immediately Mary started to pull Jock’s breeches down and to massage his cock. For a short while she took it in her mouth and when it was fully hard, she lifted her skirts and simply and plainly told Jock to fuck her. “Yer’ll hev to do it quick as oi gotta get back sharpish. Oi has used up part of me break already.”
“Have yer got it in?” Jock whispered.
“The sponge? Yeah, put it in afor I came oot.” A few minutes later, Jock obviously came in her and they rearranged their clothes and left.
“What did she mean about the sponge?” enquired Ruth. Sarah didn’t know either but a few discreet enquiries revealed this as a method of birth control, one that was widely used by the maids to prevent pregnancy. It seemed effective. A small piece of vinegar soaked sponge was inserted well into the girls vagina before copulation and served to prevent sperm reaching and fertilising the awaiting egg.
Knowing when Mary had her break, Sarah and Ruth spied on the couple on quite a number of occasions until they became bored with more or less the same performance each time.
The girls also knew how the animals on the estate went about it. The not infrequently saw the bull put to the cows and the ram to the sheep so on the whole they had a pretty good all round knowledge of sex, its methods and ramifications even if they had no personal account of it. No one on the estate would dare to touch one of the master’s daughters.
One afternoon when she was fourteen, Ruth was in the masters study. She was beginning to mature but was on the small side and very skinny especially when compared with Sarah who was a little on the plump side and whose breasts were beginning to fill out nicely. I have already mentioned Ruth’s ability in math’s. She noted the bills sitting on the spike awaiting filing and idly picked up the top one. It was from Fred Cary the grocer. Quickly mentally running over the figures she noted a discrepancy. They were being overcharged by £1..19s..7d. Curious she looked at the next one. Again they were being overcharged, this time less than a pound. One mistake could be genuine, two was carelessness but when she discovered all seven of the grocery bills on the spike were over the mark she knew it was dishonesty. The total overcharging amounted to £10..15s ..3d.
She looked at the bills on the other spikes. George Cary, Fred’s brother, supplied coal and his bills too were always incorrectly added and always the total was too high and by a considerable amount, £15..14s..2d. She found occasional other minor mistakes of a few pennies with bills on the other spikes but nothing that probably wasn’t a genuine addition error. At first her father was annoyed that she had dared to look into his affairs but when Ruth pointed out the errors represented a week’s supply of groceries and much of the winter’s supply of coal he gruffly but not too unkindly asked “What are you going to do about it then.” He knew that once his daughter had her teeth into anything like this she wouldn’t let go. Ruth was somewhat taken aback. She fully expected her father to deal with it but she quickly recovered and said she would go to the village and get a refund or a credit note. It was arranged she go on the following day and Richards was to accompany her to see she didn’t get into trouble. Robert, when Ruth had left them, told Richards to let the girl do it her way but he was to see she or the Cary’s didn’t get hurt. “Let her have her way short of holding a knife to their throats and give me a full report when you get back. She’s a fiery thing and you may well have an interesting day.” He smiled at Richards when he said it.
Richards drove the trap and Ruth had him stop at a couple of other places on the way to the village grocer. A boy was at the counter serving a customer and when it was their turn he addressed Richards, “How can I help you Sir?” Ruth butted straight in. “I” and she emphasised the ‘I’, “wish to speak with Mr. Cary please.”
“Mr. Cary is busy right now Miss. Can I get you anything?”
“You can take me to Mr. Cary right now unless you want this business brought out in front of a shop full of customers.” Ruth waved the bills in front of the lad's face. He popped into the back room and returned with Fred Cary. Addressing Richards he asked his business. Richards replied that he was only the chaperone and Miss Ruth was dealing with him on behalf of the master.
“What can I do for you child?” Fred asked.
“Mr. Cary, if you do not wish me to advertise the fact that you have consistently overcharged us, I suggest we go into the back room and you stop treating me as a child. I have Lord Lavenby’s full authority to deal with this matter and it is not just a matter of a few pence as you well know.” In the back room Ruth laid the bills on the table and asked who made the bills out. Fred acknowledged he did but said his adding up wasn’t too good. “No, it isn’t,” Ruth replied, “And the total always comes out more than it should. On these few bills it is £10..15s ..3d. That is the wages of a goodly number of staff for a week. Perhaps you should employ one to do your addition for you. And I haven’t been through the ones that are already filed away that could almost certainly add to the total.” 
Ruth knew from his manner that he knew the bills were too high and refused to accept his apology. Instead she demanded a full refund. Fred queried the amount but after spending some time going through the figures he had to agree with Ruth’s accounting. “I will come to the Hall and see his Lordship about this. Would you mind informing him Richards.”
“Miss Ruth has his Lordship’s full authority to deal with the matter Mr. Cary. It is in her hands.”
“I cannot deal with a young girl.”
Ruth interrupted, “You can and you will. Either you deal with me and we negotiate payment or I have Richards send for the constable and have you arrested for dishonesty. Which is it to be Mr. Cary?” The fire in her voice caused Fred to stop and realise he would have to tread carefully if he wasn’t to end up in jail or his business ruined. “What do you suggest?” he enquired, “I haven’t that amount in the shop at the moment.”
“You will give me a credit note for the full amount and continue to supply our grocery needs until the debt is paid. I shall check every bill you send and will check with Cook that the quality of the goods is up to standard so don’t think of passing on inferior goods.” After further argument this was agreed to and Ruth left with the credit note. As she left she asked where his brother George might be found.
“Probably in the Dukes Head, Miss Ruth.” It was the most respectful response she had received from him.
George was indeed in the Dukes Head. Ruth sent Richards in to ask George to meet her outside and when he refused to leave the bar and his cronies, she marched in. “Well if you will not come outside to see me, I must deal with this in here in front of your friends. You have overcharged us for coal this year by £15..14s..2d and we have come to collect the debt.” George’s cronies laughed. George had boasted often enough how he had defrauded the Hall and bought them drinks on the strength of it.
“Take this little slip of a girl away Richards. She’s hardly out of her nappies and shouldn’t be getting her nose dirty with anything like this.”
Ruth banged her fists on the table but said quietly, “You deal with me or I fetch the bailiffs. I have my father’s authority to collect the debt and to do it in the way I think best.”
“You don’t scare me girlie. Take her away and wipe her arse, Richards.” The comment was greeted with coarse laughter and further comments from his friends. Outside the pub, Ruth turned to Richards, “Take me to Groton and Groton please.”
Groton and Groton were the village solicitors. Old Mr. Jeffrey Groton saw her first and then passed her to his son James. James was a newcomer to the business and eager to make a name for himself and this young girl was the daughter of Lord Lavenby. It could lead to him to higher paid work. After looking over the figures he agreed with Ruth that the errors looked deliberate and when Ruth suggested it might have been going on for some years but hadn’t looked for older bills as yet, he suggested they serve a summons for George Cary to appear in court to face charges of theft.
“I don’t want to put him in prison,” said Ruth, “He has a wife and two children and probably spends any spare cash in the pub but we don’t want him cheating on us again. A credit note like we have from his brother will do.”
James understood her concern but suggested after hitting him with the summons, George would be more ready to negotiate. Nearly an hour later the three plus two burly bailiffs that Groton and Groton employed on a part time basis returned to the Dukes Head. The group were still drinking and laughing over the incident but fell completely silent when James and Ruth approached their table. “George Cary, I have a summons here for you to appear at the magistrate court tomorrow on charges of theft,” intoned James.
“You don’t believe that little bitch do you?” George Cary snarled.
James replied, “Unfortunately the facts are clear. You tried to cheat his Lordship of a considerable sum, probably much more than the £15..14s..2d on these bills. We have yet to go through the bills you sent for previous years so unless you can repay the money owed I foresee you will be going to prison for a long time. Can you repay the money?”
“You know I do not have the money right now and putting me in prison won’t get it for you either.”
“You are of course right but there are other, more honest coal merchants in the village that would supply the Hall and who would take over your business while you were away. Miss Ruth here is quite prepared to do that and she has already found the coal they supply is cheaper than yours without the extra added to the bill but she is prepared on his Lordship’s behalf, to negotiate other ways of clearing the debt you have incurred. Do you wish to do that here or in my office?”
They adjourned to the office and there Ruth determinedly stuck out for the best deal she was able to get. She accepted a credit note for the £15..14s..2d and agreed not to delve further into past invoices. In return George Cary was to supply coal to that amount over the next twelve months and not only was the coal to be of the best quality but it was to be at a lower price per cwt. Ruth argued that because he delivered 5 tons at one time there was less labour and less carriage than delivering to local households a few bags at a time.
On the way home Richards congratulated her on the way she handled the problem and the deal she had been able to get. This was duly reported to his Lordship who started to take a keener interest in Ruth and her abilities. He allowed her to help with his work in the study and she learned to read the business news and to try and interpret what might happen in the stock market. He found she had an uncanny judgement. To try and prove it one way or the other, he gave he an interest free loan, which she could use to buy stocks and products of her choice. He had to do the buying and selling because of her age but it was all done on her say so and the money was paid into a bank account in her name. By the end of the year she was able to repay the loan and had over £700 in hand. She increased this to over £1,000 by the end of the second year. 
As a by-product of her interest she learned to read legal documents and to understand the meaning behind the formal wording. Robert came to rely on her more and more. She saved him a lot of time and increased his income considerably. Eventually she knew almost as much about his business as he did.
***********
Life went on fairly pleasantly this way for several years. Sarah developed into a fine looking woman and was much sort after by sons of the local gentry. Ruth never really developed though. She remained small and skinny with an almost flat chest. Even when dressed in expensive clothes, she didn’t excite too much attention from the opposite sex. Thus she became more wrapped up in what she saw as her work. She helped her father and studied botany with great enthusiasm but left boys well alone.
All this came to an abrupt and brutal end when one night on his way home Lord Robert was waylaid by highwaymen and shot and killed when he refused their demands for money. The men were subsequently caught and hanged but the effect the death of Lord Robert had on the household and Ruth in particular was also brutal and demeaning. Her father (or as she was reminded now) her adopted father hadn’t made a will so no provision was made for the two girls’ future. Lord Robert was only 46 years old and believed there would be plenty of time for that later. After taxes were paid Edward inherited it all. However, he was living somewhere abroad and it was a two months before he could be contacted and returned to the Hall.
Sarah immediately realised the consequences of what might happen when Edward returned as Lord Edward Lavenby and master of the household. Fortunately she was seriously courting a cavalry officer at the time and managed to extract a proposal from him. After a short engagement, she married him and they left for India.
Ruth thought she might still be able to fulfil a role in the house as a financial adviser but her illusions were shattered immediately after Edward’s arrival. She had been out when Lord Edward arrived and on entering her room found it bare. None of her clothes were in the cupboards, all the drawers were empty and there were no sheets on the bed. When she called for one of the maids Edward himself entered. “Get yourself downstairs to Mrs. Symonds the new housekeeper. She will give you your new servants uniform and return the fancy dress. You came into this house with nothing, you now own nothing. The clothes you are wearing now belong to me. From now on you do not have any privilege position. You are just another servant and a lowly one at that but I am sure Mrs. Symonds will soon knock you into shape.”
Ruth tried to protest at the injustice but Edward just slapped her across the face and sent her to the kitchen to find the new housekeeper. Edward had hired her because she had a reputation for being a very strict disciplinarian. A short tawse hung from her belt seemingly as part of her uniform and used it frequently for minor infringements. More serious lapses were recorded and punishment meted out after dinner each evening.
As soon as she arrived in the kitchen Mrs. Symonds ordered her to remove her clothes and when Ruth hesitated the housekeeper immediately brought the tawse across the back of Ruth’s legs. “So you still think you are one of the mistresses of the house do you? We’ll soon see about that. Get those clothes off NOW!” Ruth fumbled with the fastening half keeping an eye on the bootboy who was cleaning utensils. She wasn’t quick enough and received another stroke of the tawse. Mrs. Symonds looked over Ruth’s naked body as she stood shivering with fear in the centre of the kitchen. “There may not be much of you but you will still have to do a full days work same as the others otherwise you will have to bear the consequences. Now just to make certain you now know your place here, bend over the table.” 
“No, please, Mrs. Symonds. I’ll do my best.” Ruth was crying now.
“I’m sure you will and this is just to make sure of it.” Turning to another maid, “You there, girl, hold this one’s arms while I show what she gets for hesitating to do what she is told.”
Jane, the maid came and held Ruth’s arms from the other side of the table.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Ten times the tawse fell across Ruth’s backside. She screamed, squirmed and pleaded but all to no avail. When Jane was ordered to release her, Ruth felt she could hardly stand but Mrs. Symonds would have none of that. Throwing a simple, rough, smock at her she was told to put it on and was then taken to the courtyard area and told to scrub the stones clean.
Ruth tried but soon her soft hands were torn and bleeding. Her back ached so she could hardly stand. Once Edward came past and taunted her. “It’s about time you did some work. You sponged off my father for long enough.” He kicked her sore arse so she fell on her face on the stone slabs. At regular intervals, Mrs. Symonds came to inspect her progress and was always very dissatisfied and usually lifted Ruth’s smock and added another couple of stripes “To encourage her to work faster.”
Dinner for the staff was a frugal affair. Quite unlike former times when the food was good and plentiful. It was followed by the dreaded punishment session. All the staff had to attend. Ruth noticed the birching horse now had a place in the kitchen.
First to be called to the horse was the bootboy. After stripping him of his smock he was fastened to the framework. Edward arrived, “Don’t spare any of these lazy scoundrels Mrs. Symonds,” he ordered. She gave the boy ten stripes of the birch. He yelled at the top of his voice but it made no difference. By the time his punishment was over, he was reduced to a sobbing wreck and when released was unable to stand.
Next was young chambermaid who had been caught sitting on the bed when she should have been cleaning the room. She too was stripped and fastened naked to the horse. Again the sentence was ten stripes, which she bore with a little more fortitude than the boy, but was still crying and begging before it was over. However, for her it wasn’t over. Edward stepped forward. The sight of the plump sore arse had given him an obvious erection. “Leave her fastened there a moment,” he ordered, then whipping out his prick, rammed its hard length into the tied down girl. Her screams renewed in intensity as Edward thrust his loins against the tortured flesh. He seemed to have no feelings at all. To him the girl was nothing more than a receptacle for his cock. It was rape, pure rape watched by with very mixed emotions by all the other females on the staff. Edward continued until he came within her, withdrew and wiped the end of his cock across the welted arse and told Mrs. Symonds to carry on with the punishments.
Ruth was called and unceremoniously stripped and fastened to the horse. Mrs. Symonds castigated her for her supposed laziness and ordered twenty stripes. Ruth fainted at the thought of taking that number of strokes on her small body. There were gasps of horror from others on the staff but all were afraid to speak or help. Water was thrown over Ruth to revive her and the first strokes were applied to her buttocks. No matter how she struggled, how much she cried and screamed she could not evade the punishing birch. Again she fainted. Again she was revived. Her arse was one large blister so the birch rod transferred its attentions to her back. Twice more she fainted and after the eighteenth stroke she lapsed into complete unconsciousness. Water failed to revive her. When she came to she was lying face down on a rough bed in the servants quarters being gently sponged by one of the other girls. The girl tried her best to alleviate some of the pain but with nothing to use except water, the pain continued unabated. Ruth hardly slept that night. 
Next day it was found that three of the maids had absconded during the night. The sight of the thrashings had made them realise their life would not be worth much if they stayed. Ruth was again taken to the courtyard but after only half an hour lapsed into unconsciousness again. Mrs. Symonds tried to revive her with a few swats of the tawse but even she realised it was not going to work. She ordered two of the gardeners to throw Ruth in the barn and fasten the door to keep her out of the way. Fortunately the head ostler saw them and after a short while entered the barn and gave her water and tried to make her as comfortable as he was able. Later he brought her a few young carrots grown in his garden as he didn’t dare get caught stealing food from the house to bring to her.
Ruth was left in the barn for the rest of that day and night. At least she didn’t have to witness the evening punishment session. Next morning, just before breakfast Ruth was brought into the house and ordered to wash herself and report to the kitchen. Three more staff had left during the night so now there was a shortage. Apparently two of the girls had been birched the previous evening and decided they could take no more.
Mrs. Symonds must have decided that she wouldn’t be able to maintain her position if too many staff left so eased up on the punishments. Ruth’s flesh was still a livid colour and she tried not to sit but was ordered to be seated at the breakfast table for the barely palatable porridge that was served. Having hardly eaten anything the previous day she was hungry and cleaned her plate. “Now girl,” the housekeeper spoke to her, “You’ve had a full plate of porridge so you should have enough strength to do a full days work. Unfortunately we don’t have all the staff we did so for the time being the courtyard will have to wait and you will work in the kitchen cleaning up after Cook.”
Even the kitchen work seemed tiring especially as every movement pained her back and bottom. Many times she was ordered to lift heavy pails of water, pails she could barely lift when she was in full health. Cook tried to ease her load as best she could but the housekeeper just seemed to hover around all the time. At one point Ruth was struggling along with two pails of water. Her back and bum were voicing their objections to lifting the weight in no uncertain manner and her steps were short and she had to lower the pails to the ground after a few yards. Had she known Mrs. Symonds was behind her she would have kept moving but as soon as she picked the pails up to resume her journey the dreaded tawse swished across the back of her legs. They buckled up and Ruth and the pails were upended on the floor. The housekeeper was now very angry. Not only was Ruth the laziest being on this earth but she had created as much mess as an army of miners. Grabbing the hem of Ruth’s smock she pulled it above the waist and laid a sharp slap across the already blistered rear. Almost immediately Ruth’s cries started to fade and Mrs. Symonds knew she would soon pass out again. 
“Damn the girl,” she muttered, “She can’t stay awake long enough to take a good hiding.” Flipping Ruth over until she was lying face upwards in the water she bared the girl’s body from the navel down. “Well see if your front can take a hiding even if your arse cannot.” With those words she proceeded to unmercifully lash the bare flesh before her. Ruth barely remained awake during the hiding and couldn’t move when told to get up and clean the mess from the floor. Even two lashes between her legs didn’t cause any movement. Again she was thrown and locked in the barn. Two days and two nights she spent in there with a little food and water sent in, in the evening. 
Edward went away to London for a fortnight so things were a little easier for most of the staff. Cook left while he was away so meals were prepared by whoever was not otherwise engaged. One girl’s efforts were quite good so Mrs. Symonds promoted her to Cook although she doubted if the meals would suit the master when he returned. Ruth returned to working in the kitchen but in general was given lighter duties. Physically she wasn’t capable of doing anything more. Nevertheless not a day went by when she didn’t receive the tawse for some imagined minor infraction of her duties. 
Edward brought four of his cronies back with him and they had alcohol induced boisterous parties. Most of the better looking maids that were fucked many times until the alcohol finally brought sleep to the men. Ruth skinny appearance didn’t appeal to these horny friends so she was relatively safe from their attentions. However, late one night when a party had been in full swing for several hours she was ordered to take a bottle of wine in to them. Edward saw her. “Well if it isn’t my skinny little so called sister. Bet you still have a tight little cunny. Perhaps we ought to open it up a bit.”
“No Master Edward, please no.” She tried to run from the room but was caught by one of the others. Her smock was quickly removed and Ruth was thrown to the floor and pinned down at the shoulders by two of the men. Edward removed his trousers and showed Ruth his near hard prick.
“How would you like this nice fat cock up inside you Ruthie dear?”
“No, no. Please you mustn’t do it. Please Master Edward. Let me go.” But Edward only laughed at her predicament.
“Hold her down boys while I shove this into her and make a woman of her.” Drunkenly he knelt between her legs aiming his cock at her cunt when. Gathering all her reserves of strength Ruth brought her knees to her chest and then kicked out with all the force she could muster. Both feet landed squarely on Edward’s nuts. Edward fell backward clutching his now deflated prick and balls. He yelled in agony for several minutes before the pain started to subside. Mrs. Symonds looked in to see what was going on and was immediately ordered to get his riding crop from the hall stand. “I am going to teach this little bitch to serve me properly.” He roared.
Grabbing the whip he proceeded to lash Ruth, starting from the ankles upwards. In his drunken state, the whip marks were unevenly spaced and by the time her reached her tiny breasts his aim was haywire and a couple of welts lay across her face. Ruth passed out but that didn’t matter to Edward. He ordered his friends to turn her over and continued with his savage whipping. He called for more wine and both Mrs. Symonds and Richards entered with it. Richards was utterly appalled by the sight of a man beating a young girl even when she was unconscious. Because there were no cries from Ruth, he hadn’t realised what was happening. Swiftly he moved, held Edward’s wrist and took the whip from him. “Stay, Sir. If you kill her you will hang like the rest of us.”
Edward suddenly seemed to understand what he was doing. “Yes, the bitch isn’t worth hanging for.” Turning to Mrs. Symonds he instructed her to remove the bitch and take her to the back gate and throw her out. The housekeeper bent to pick up Ruth’s smock but was ordered to leave it. “She came here naked, she is leaving naked,” Edward snarled.
Richards carefully and tenderly picked up the limp form and carried her to the kitchen. “Keep on and carry her to the gate, Richards,” Mrs. Symonds instructed.
“No, she is not going anywhere until she knows where she is.” He laid the girl on the table. Two of the other girls stood nearby and started crying when the saw the state Ruth was in. Richards asked them to bathe Ruth with warm water. The housekeeper became incensed at having her authority questioned and her hand immediately went to the tawse at her belt. Richards though, was quicker. Before she could use it he had removed it and flung it in the corner. “Put it in the stove,” he ordered the bootboy. When the woman protested, Richards held her arms together and tied them with cloth and sat her in one corner out of the way. 
After a short while, Ruth showed signs of life but was hysterical and it took a little while to calm her. Blood dribbled from many open wounds where the crop had bitten deeply into her skin. The maids and he did what they could to ease her pain but it was little enough.
Richards spoke quietly to her. “Ruth, we have been ordered by Lord Edward to throw you out and Mrs. Symonds insists we do it. We also are not allowed to give you any clothing from the house as Edward would construe that as stealing. While anything might happen to you out there, it can hardly be worse than what you have put up with here. Do you understand?” Ruth could only nod. “His Lordship isn’t quite correct when he said you came here with nothing, you were wrapped in towels,” Richards continued. “I have three of my own personal towels that do not belong to this house. Two I will wrap around your feet and the other you can use to cover part of your body. I am sorry we cannot do more but if you are here in the morning Edward is likely to kill you and possibly us too.” 
Nearly an hour later, Ruth, barely able to stand let alone walk, was carried in the pouring rain to the back gate. “Ruthie,” Richards spoke with tears in his eyes, “I don’t want to do this but there doesn’t seem to be an alternative. I suggest you head for Fourpennies rather than Yaxford. It is a mile or two more but they might take you in at the house and give you a job there. I’ve heard the new owner, a Mr. Peter Saunders, treats his staff well but he is a womaniser too and may want you in his bed. It may be best at this time if you keep your identity secret and just act like a servant girl who has been waylaid. You went to Fourpennies several times with Miss Sarah while the Babcocks owned it so you should be able to find your way. Its dark now but the moon may come through after this shower anyway try to get as far as you can by morning in case Edward tries to find you when he wakes up. He’s drunk now and may want to continue to punish you when he is sober. Good luck. You sure need it.” Richards kissed the girl on the forehead and watched as she stumbled raggedly along the road. It was eight miles to Fourpennies and he wondered how far she would get.
Returning to the Hall Richards called a meeting of all the house staff. “You all saw or have heard about what happened this evening. You have all been on the receiving end of the punishments dished out here. It now looks as if these will get worse and I wouldn’t want to be in anyone’s shoes that is here in the morning when his Lordship and his cronies wake up. They will have sore heads and Edward’s balls will still be painful so they will take their vengeance on anyone who is around. I suggest we all get out while we can. If we all go there can be no reprisals on the few who are left. What do you think?”
There were murmurs of agreement. “What about her?” piped up the bootboy, indicating Mrs. Symonds. 
“I think I know how to deal with her.” For the first time for weeks Richards smiled. “Get her clothes off and strap her to the birching horse.” Despite her protests, the woman was divested of her clothes and fastened to the horse. Her skin showed up very white and pale in the lamplight. Her protests became more vehement but were silenced by a cloth being put in her mouth.
“Can I whip her first?” asked one of the maids who had been thrashed several times.
“It is better that none of us touch her,” answered Richards, “Just carry her to the dining room where the drunkards are sleeping.” Quietly they carried the woman strapped to the horse into the room. The five were snoring and didn’t awaken as the group entered. They placed the horse in a prominent position and hung the riding crop on the nail at the side. The pot of birch rods was placed alongside. 
“I don’t think I want to be in her place when they waken. In fact I don’t think I want to be here at all,” the maid said. “You are a cruel man Richards,” she added but there was a smile on her face.
By 2 a.m. all the staff had left and the house was still.
********
Peter Saunders was tired and fed up. He hadn’t wanted to go to the soiree at the Bentons place on the outskirts of Yaxford but had been obligated to do so. He suspected they wanted to matchmaker him with their daughter Yvette and he had been right. He had found the girl pretty but devoid of any talent. She wore an expensive and revealing gown that was set off by a false smile. The Bentons wanted him for his money and were prepared to use their daughter wiles to get it. Peter saw through the plan and did nothing to encourage Yvette. He was forced to dance with her and make conversation but it was a stilted one-sided affair. Yvette could chatter for hours on the local gossip that he had no interest in while she had no love for natural history that was his prime hobby.
Around midnight he decided to leave. It was a ten-mile drive back to Fourpennies. Yvette tried to get him to stay, even hinting he could share her bed and when that didn’t work suggested he take her with him. This angered Peter. “Miss Yvette,” he said rather loudly so all could hear, “If you are offering your body to me, let me tell you that I do not pay above the London prostitute rate of ten guineas a night. If you accept that then come with me and I will see you are returned here in the morning. If not, then I bid you goodnight.” Yvette blushed with embarrassment and fled from the room.
Peter checked the fastening on his horse and trap and started off. The weather had turned foul. Heavy rain sheeted down on the brisk breeze. He pulled his cape tightly around his shoulders and carefully made his way along the unmade road to his home. The dim lights of the carriage were insufficient to see very well but the horse sensed its way. Two miles from Yaxford he saw the lights of Rosebury Hall and almost stopped to see if he could dry out before continuing his journey but remembered part of the gossip from Yvette on how things had changed since the death of Lord Robert.
Had it not been for the jolting of the wheels on the uneven road, Peter might have fallen asleep and allowed the horse to make its way home without much guidance but being wet and cold and on a rough road kept him awake. The rain had stopped and the moon appeared briefly as a cloud passed out of it light. Suddenly, a couple of miles on from the main gate to the Hall, a white apparition caught a shaft of moonlight ahead of him. Although not particularly susceptible to ghost stories, the sight nevertheless jerked him fully alert. The figure turned slightly, stumbled and appeared to disappear. His horse had seen it too as she hesitated and was reluctant to go forward. Peter jumped down and walked alongside her. Peter found the mud and blood splattered body of a near naked woman lying on the ground. “My God, what happened to you? Who are you?” His questions were answered only by low moans from the girl.
Gently he picked her up, laid her on the floor of the trap and covered her with his cloak. There was little room but by placing his feet over the top of her he managed. Urging the horse on he tried to get to his home in the fastest possible time. The girl was alive he could tell by the moans that came from her lips but otherwise she was not aware of anything happening around her. This was just as well as the jolting would have only caused her considerably more pain. Her brain functions had shut down. 
At Fourpennies Peter knew the groom would have waited up for him. He appeared immediately he heard the noise from the gravel on the driveway. “Wake the rest of the staff and get them here straightaway,” Peter shouted at the man. Sensing something unusual was to occur the groom hurried into the house as soon after lights began to appear in windows and staff in their nightdresses came to the door. Carrying Ruth into the house he ordered two maids to prepare the guestroom and two others to fill a bath in there. In the light they could see the girl was in a bad way. The blood and mud had dried on her body into a congealed sludge. They looked in horror on the whip marks, the blood and particularly the two livid weals that gave her face a grotesque appearance.
All the staff rallied to help. Sleep was forgotten as they carefully laid the girl on the kitchen table and began to wash her with warm water. She was very cold but occasionally her eyes flickered open as she felt the warm water on her body. By the time she was reasonably clean the bath upstairs was ready and Jessie, the large framed jovial kitchen girl, picked her up and easily carried her to the guest room. Carefully they lowered Ruth into the warm water. Her body was beginning to come round and feel their hands. Although they were gentle, even these touches caused her further pain. They girls chattered amongst themselves and tried to find out who she was but Ruth was incapable of speech. Limited movement had returned to her arms but her legs would not support her weight. 
Peter watched and directed operations. Rachael the cook produced a herbal ointment which she swore would ease the pain and help the wounds to heal. Ruth barely knew what was happening but for the first time for a month she found herself in a soft feather bed. She drifted in and out of consciousness and each time she awoke she found one of the maids or Peter by her bedside. It was passed noon but the curtains were still drawn and the room in semi-darkness when Ruth became more fully awake and tried to move. The effort shot spears of fire throughout her body and brought forth a scream from her lips. The maid at her side tried to quell her with soothing words but Ruth could not reply. Even trying to indicate she wanted a drink caused pain although by now she knew she was amongst kindly people. They fed her a nutritious broth, bathed her and applied ointments but still her body was almost one large bruise. They could see too, that the whipping she’d had wasn’t the first as some of the bruises were old.
After two days a fever and delirium beset her. The staff fought to keep her temperature down with cold compresses but couldn’t make any sense out of her wild ramblings. Eventually the fever broke and she slowly began to recover. She tried speaking but the swelling from the facial lashing, made it very difficult and words came out slowly and not at all the way she would have sounded normally. Peter visited her several times a day and after she began to talk, asked her name and questioned her on how she came to be on the lane at that time of night. Ruth had by then decided to keep her identity secret in case it should get back to Edward. “I’m Martha Jones, and I was travelling to Bristol to find work when the farmer’s cart I had a ride in was attacked and robbed and because I only had the clothes on my back I was beaten and dumped somewhere. I don’t know where.” 
Peter didn’t believe the story. For a start it was obvious there was more than one beating but perhaps that was why she was running away in the first place. And why was she so far off the Bristol road? He decided to accept the story for the moment.
It was two weeks before Ruth could move from her bed with any degree of normality. She still walked with the shuffling steps of an old woman but much of the swelling had gone down and some of the weals were fading. Some though, including the ones on her face were still purple and very painful. 
At breakfast one morning at the end of her second week, Peter came to her, “Martha, in a week or so you should be fit enough to travel on if you so wish or you can stay here but if you do so you must be prepared to work with the other maids or on the land. You may have also have heard from the other girls that at times they are expected to share my bed. I will expect that of you too.”
“Sir,” Ruth replied, “I would welcome the opportunity to work for you and would like to start today if I can although I could not do anything heavy. However, I don’t know if I could do what you expect in bed. I never have...”
“Look, Martha, you will never be forced to but I will be disappointed in you if you don’t. It’s Wednesday today, I will give you until Sunday week to make up your mind whether to continue to Bristol or to stay here and come to my bed. Meantime I am sure the Rachael can find you something light to do. Plenty of dusting to do around here all the time.”
Rachael did indeed find plenty of dusting and light housework for her to do and for her part Ruth found the work enjoyable and the staff were always kind and helpful. They were given a little time off each day and allowed to wander in the grounds. To Ruth this was a delight. She was able to renew her love of wild flowers and often picked one or two. One she didn’t recognise so she took it to the library when no one was around and picked out a book to help her. She was so engrossed she didn’t hear the master enter. She hastily closed the book, apologised and pretended to carry on dusting. Peter was puzzled. Maybe she was only looking at the pictures or was she actually reading the text?
Two days later he asked her to dust and tidy his study. He left a newspaper on the top of his desk and left the room. Quietly he returned to find Ruth standing and reading it. “What do you think of Ralph Brakenbury’s chances in the election, Martha?” he asked.
“Quite good but he will have strong opposition from...” Ruth stopped. She knew he had tricked her into revealing she could read. 
“Martha, I think you owe it to me to tell the truth. You are not Martha Jones are you?” Ruth shook her head. “Your name is Ruth Lavenby.” Ruth nodded. “I thought I recognised you although I only saw you once just before your father died and your face was unmarked then. Tell me the truth now. How you came to be on the road that night. It was Edward wasn’t it?” Again Ruth nodded and then burst into floods of tears. “It’s alright Ruth, you don’t really need to tell me. Yesterday I went to Yaxford and sort out Richards. He was pleased to hear you were recovering and he told me much of the story. He also told me the tale of your brush with the Cary brothers and how you largely ran the finances of the estate.”
“Richards also left many unanswered questions in my mind. You must remember I am a newcomer here and don’t know the history behind this but I would appreciate it if you could start at the beginning because Richards only gave me vignettes and it isn’t always easy to put them in the whole picture. Perhaps before you start you should go to Rachael and ask her to make a pot of her herb tea and bring it here with two cups and we can have a long chat.
The chat was indeed long and lasted until they were called to dinner. By then Ruth had bared her soul to him. She told of her life with Lord Robert, how she dealt with his affairs, how she dabbled in the stock market, and had her own bank account with enough money to keep her for a number of years. Questioned about the wild flower book she let Peter know of her interest in botany and he related his interest in wild life and birds in particular. She asked if he knew what was happening at Rosebury Hall now.
“All I can tell you is what Richards told me and he got it from one of the gardeners.”
“After you were taken and thrown out the remaining staff had a meeting and all decided to leave. They wouldn’t be subjected to any more beatings even if they were poor. They left Mrs. Symonds tied naked to the birching horse in the same room and Edward and his cohorts. They awoke in the morning with sore heads and saw her there. Their cries to the staff went unanswered so they showed their displeasure by thrashing and raping Mrs. Symonds. Not as severely as they had thrashed you. They only freed her so she could get them breakfast and then fastened her and raped her again. Next day they decided to move back to London, shut the place up and only keep on a token force of groundsmen.”
“What happened to Mrs. Symonds?” enquired Ruth.
“She went back to Bristol to find a job there.”
After dinner Peter called the staff together and gave told them Martha was in reality Ruth Lavenby and gave them an outline her life. Several already knew of her and the story of her fight with the Cary brothers had reached them. Peter went on, “If she decides to stay her position here will be somewhere between mistress of the house and housemaid. A role that is going to be difficult to define in words. She will help me with the running of the estate but when she is not doing that she will help elsewhere as needed. She will keep the room she is in now at least for the time being or until a guest requires it.” There were murmurs amongst the staff but Ruth couldn’t make out whether it was approval or disapproval. Mostly they were taken by surprise by the announcement.
Ruth stood up. “Look, you have all been very kind to me here. You took me in as a stranger and cared for me. You have all become friends and I will do nothing to alter that friendship. The only thing that has changed for you is I am now to be called Ruth. I’m not Mistress Ruth or Miss Ruth, just plain Ruth. I shall still use your first names too. My duties with Master Peter have not yet been defined but I am sure they will over the next few days or weeks. None should affect the way you do your work. I am really just so grateful that you have restored me to almost full health although it may be a while before I can show my face at a debutante’s ball. Please I thank you all for everything you have done for me.” Tears welled to the surface and flowed down her cheeks. One member of staff gave her a clap and soon the rest had joined in. They congratulated her and wished her well.
When they were alone together again, Ruth asked Peter if she could share his bed so that she could stay. Peter hugged her and said, “Of course, but only if you’re ready.”
“I think I am,” Ruth replied, “It has got to be better than being with Edward.” 

Finis