The correspondence began here.

Dear Miss Carlisle,

How quickly things come to pass. I can scarcely write and yet I must.

I had expected a normal reply to my last missive and indeed as you know I was quite apprehensive about us meeting given our previous discussion.

Your note arrived quite unexpectedly and as promised I dropped everything to arrive at the Compton’s. To see Ruthie in full tantrum on the stairs and the language, I knew none of those words before I married.

I did not have time to ask on Friday but if she was so reluctant how ever did you get her dressed in that delightful sailor suit? I am so sorry if I laughed when she threw the cap at her father exclaiming that she would die before ever wearing it.

I have to say that Lady Eugenia’s attempts at unruffled reasonableness were both impressive and somewhat incongruous, while Sir John’s outrage at his daughter’s antics much was more sustainable.

You were magnificent, although I think you had perhaps planned this confrontation. The way you sternly and efficiently strode onto battle and dragged poor Ruthie across your lap right there on the stair case in front of parents and servants alike. You bared her bottom in a trice and with a stout hall brush so readily to hand too. The spanking to her poor defenceless behind was a tour de force and so loud. How she wailed and caterwauled; and so many tears in so short a time.

I have to say that I was impressed too by the way she defiantly held out. It took an age before she began bleating apologies and implored you for mercy. Although I note that she received none. I could not guess that a bottom could go so red and those raised blisters from a simple over-the-knee smack-bottom, oh my. Please note that neither I nor the servants had the least sympathy, even if Eugenia did make the occasional supressed motion of her hand that hinted at a considered intervention.

Sir John remained steadfast and impassive throughout as befitting an English gentleman.

I did not time it, but I fancy the spanking surpassed the top of the hour and on past the quarter past chimes before you set her sobbing and very sorry into the corner halfway up the stairs. She remained there in full sight with her exceptional red and bruised bottom bared on display for at least an hour while we took tea. I marvel that she did not again rebel.

Her humble apology after was without price and the little girlish courtesy was divine.

“Now we will retire to the school room so that Ruth may receive the cane.” Those words you uttered will haunt my memories for years. I shudder even now.

Then when Sir John suggested that I bear witness as he and his wife had no further stomach for it… why I hope I was not unseemly in my enthusiasm.

How she begged and pleaded but bared and bent over all the same. I have never seen a caning before, two dozen I believe; she took them bravely. I suspect it was the promise you made that persuaded her. Would you really do that? Purple is such a becoming colour on her and one she will well get used to I suspect. The texture of the cane-trace is coarser than the birch and the welts so much deeper. I sent a note of sympathy and I gather she still cannot sit down.

So your pupil is tamed for now. Taking tea with you in the school room while Ruthie stood in the corner was suitably humbling for her, I approve, and the sustained presence of the maid a very nice touch.

I take back all I said about leniency. I fear now for my own behind as I know we still have business of that kind.

Yours impressed and at your service,

Amelia

To be continued..