by Dinah McLeod
“For what, dear?” It was Mrs. Swift’s voice this time.
“I…” She scuffed her foot across the floor and took a deep breath so that she could get the words out. “I lied to you.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her cheeks blazed with shame and her ears filled with the sound of stunned silence.
* * *
“So, let me get this straight.”
Wesley, when he’d recovered, had taken her by the arm and led her out onto the porch. After a few moments, he’d begun to speak.
“You wanted my sister to get in trouble?”
“Well, yes.”
“So you made up some silly story about her swimming naked in the creek?”
“Ah… yes.”
“Why, Libby, of all the ridiculous things, why’d you say that?”
“Because nothing else I’d tried had worked,” she admitted, her voice a near-whisper.
“Beggin’ your pardon?” Wesley asked, his voice dangerously stern.
She knew he’d heard her just fine, but she repeated it anyway. Though she hung her head, she still saw him shaking his head back and forth in disbelief.
“Why, exactly, were you trying to get my sister whipped?”
“She… she said some things.”
“Some things? You’re goin’ to have to be more specific than that, darlin’.”
She could hear the barely concealed irritation and she felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. The whole thing had been bad medicine from the start. Why hadn’t she seen that? Why had she felt the need to seek revenge, rather than letting it go and letting Wesley make up his own mind about her? She’d certainly done enough to Maggie through the years that she couldn’t blame the girl for feeling as she did. Perhaps, in time, she could have changed her mind, too, but instead she’d only made things worse.
“When I first came here, she acted so kindly toward me,” Libby began. And then, before she knew it, the whole story was coming out in a rush. How she’d been so pleased to feel accepted by the Swift family, and so surprised for Maggie to be sweet toward her despite the pair’s long-standing rivalry. But how then, just before she’d left, Maggie had approached her and promised that she would see to it that Wesley changed his mind about her, and ruin any chances she had with the rest of the family, too.
Libby had been watching his face carefully the entire time, because as much as she wanted to look away, she needed to see how he reacted. Unfortunately for her, Wesley’s face was a mask of stone and did not betray even the slightest hint as to what he was thinking.
“And so you retaliated?” he prompted.
Libby’s face flushed in shame as she nodded and dropped her eyes to the ground. “I… I cut some herbs from your mama’s plant and blamed her.”
“I see. Is there more?”
“I also… well, I took some stitches out of a quilt.”
Wesley’s voice was even graver this time when he answered, “And? Is that the last of it?”
Miserable, she nodded.
There was a long, strained silence. Libby finally couldn’t take it anymore, but when she looked up and met his eyes, she wished she hadn’t. He wasn’t looking so stony anymore. In fact, he looked fit to be tied.
“I hope you know that I take lying very, very seriously.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I also don’t hold with deception of any kind. You’ve done both.”
“Yes, Sir,” she agreed again, on the verge of sobbing.
“I’ll be right back. You wait here.”
She wanted to protest, to beg him not to leave her, but she sealed her lips shut and did as he’d asked. He was gone for several long minutes, and when he returned he had a piece of soap in his hand.
“Follow me.”
She fell into step behind him, dreading every single pace they took. She didn’t know for certain what was about to take place, but she had a feeling she knew the gist of it.
Wesley changed direction and walked behind the barn, Libby following him at a decidedly unenthusiastic pace. Once there, she saw that there was a weathered wooden chair. She had a feeling she knew what that was intended to be used for.
“Come here,” he ordered, his voice firm and cool.
Her eyes leapt to his face, hoping to see even the tiniest bit of softness there. Disappointed when she found none, she shuffled toward him.
“Do you know what that is?”
She looked toward the rusty water pump and back again, nodding.
“Good. Now I’m goin’ to take this soap over there and get it nice and wet and use it to wash your mouth out for lying.”
Libby grimaced and her mouth opened instinctively to protest. But a look into his eyes, so hard and unmoving, stopped her before she’d begun.
Giving a decisive nod, Wesley carried out his plan exactly as he’d explained it. Only, when he returned with the dripping soap in hand, she couldn’t seem to make her mouth obey his silent order to open.
“Libby.”
“I… I can’t,” she whispered.
“You most certainly can. And what’s more, you will. I don’t tolerate lies, and you should know it well by now. But since it seems that I’ve been remiss in showing you, I’m going to make my position on it very clear now.”
“Wesley…”
“Don’t make me tell you again.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was fierce just the same.
With a hard swallow and another grimace, Libby pried her lips apart as far as she dared. It seemed to be enough, for as soon as she had, the soap was inside her mouth. Wesley used his fingers to push it over her tongue once, twice, then again and again. She wanted to spit it out so badly that it took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to.
When Wesley finally, mercifully removed the soap, he gave her a long, hard look. “You… you took that well,” he finally said.
She nodded and concentrated all her energy on not spitting the awful stuff out.
“I won’t abide by being lied to, or hearin’ that you lied about someone else. Is that understood?”
“Y-yes, Sir.” Her lips trembled with the effort to speak past the awful taste.
“Good. Now, you may go to the pump and rinse your mouth out.”
Gratefully, she rushed over and used one arm to pump water while the other hand was held out, cupped, to catch the cool liquid. She rinsed and spat, and did it again two more times before she finally felt like she’d gotten all of it out. Even so, the taste lingered.
By the time she turned back to him, Wesley had taken a seat in the chair and was watching her. She swallowed again, dreading what was to come. She considered, for a brief moment, turning tail and running, but she hated the saddened look on his face more than the prospect of chastisement. Which is why she decided to move toward him, instead of away.
Wesley wasted no time in pulling her over his lap. “I’m going to give you a warmup,” he announced. That was bad enough, but then he added, “Over your drawers.”
She let out an audible gasp, not that it gave him pause. He wasted no time in getting her dress and skirts lifted up and out of the way. Then, much to her surprise, he laid a large hand on the center of her buttocks, not spanking, but merely rubbing. It felt astoundingly good, which was quite a shock considering that she knew all too well what those hands were capable of!
“Libby… I’ve grown to care about you a good deal.”
She craned her head back to look at him, only to see that he was staring straight ahead as he spoke. Still, this wasn’t quite the talking-to she’d been expecting.
“I know that we come from different… we were raised very differently. I knew this goin’ in, and still, I’d thought… well, hoped, really, that this was something that wouldn’t make that much difference, in the long run.”
Oh, no. Her heart clenched at the forlorn sound in his voice. Was he… was he going to spank her and tell her that he wouldn’t continue to court her? The promised spanking was bad enough, but the other
was unthinkable!
“Wesley—”
“Let me finish. The things you’ve described… trying to get my sister into trouble like that, going out of your way to lie about her… I have a hard time reconciling the woman I thought I was coming to know with the picture you’ve painted.”
Libby felt a lump in her throat that she couldn’t seem to swallow away. The more he spoke, the bigger it became.
“I can’t have a wife who deliberately lies to me. I need that to be made plain before we continue courtin’. Nor will I abide out-and-out meanness.”
“Wesley, please. I can—”
“I don’t want your answer now. I want you to think it over, because this is something we both should really consider.”
Her throat was constricting with the effort not to sob. She’d known he was angry at her, disappointed, even, but this… this was much worse than she’d anticipated. If she’d known it would come to this, to the possibility of things ending between them, she would have let his sister have her say and not thought on the matter any further.
Or, at least she would have tried. Giving in wasn’t in her nature, but by golly, she would have tried, for Wesley.
Without another word, his hand set to the task of warming her drawers, just as he’d promised. The first swat caught her off guard because it was so sharp in contrast to his touch mere moments ago.
Wesley didn’t pull any half-measures, but doled out quick, sharp smacks that left Libby bucking and whimpering over his lap in no time. She couldn’t remember the last time that a spanking had hurt this much right at the very beginning. Which meant that Wesley had been capable of more all along! The thought certainly made her uneasy.
“Wes-ley,” she cried out after a particularly hard smack to the center of her bottom. “Please, no more. It hurts!”
“It’s goin’ to hurt a lot more,” he replied grimly. Then, without another word he began to lift her skirts and once they rested over her back, along with her dress, she felt him untie the strings of her drawers.
The cool wind that caressed her now bare bottom made her cry out in despair, but there was nothing she could do but endure it, every stinging, cheek-flattening smack. She knew that she deserved it—heck, she probably deserved a lot more, not that she would be sharing that with him. And maybe, just maybe if she took her punishment like a good girl, when he let her up he’d look at her with softness in his face and forgiveness in his eyes. That thought was the only thing that kept Libby clinging on and enduring hard spank after spank. It seemed to her that his hand had created a fire that burrowed into her tender skin, particularly now that there was no protection between her bottom and his long, punishing arm.
“Wes… ley!” she yelped, out of breath as the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “Please! I’m sor-ry!”
“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” he replied dryly.
“Please! Pl-lease! Stop!”
“Not yet,” he replied, his hand rising and falling even faster than before.
Oh, she was going to be such a good girl from now on! She was never going to mess up, not ever again. Now only if she could make him believe that!
Finally, Wesley stopped and helped her to her feet. She’d hoped that he’d let her sit on his lap, even for a moment, but he took her hands instead and kept her in front of him.
“That was for the lie,” he informed her, his voice brusque. “And now we have the matter of your trying to get my sister in trouble.”
Libby’s mouth dropped open. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Hadn’t he just spanked her? Her rear that prickled with painful tingles left no doubt that he had. And yet… was he saying he was going to do it again? She was shaking her head in protest, but when he dropped her hands and stood, reaching for his belt, her heart went into a full-on gallop of panic.
“No.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but you brought this on yourself.”
“Wesley, p-please. You can’t.”
He didn’t answer, just looked back at her steadily.
She continued to shake her head as she backed away from him. “No. I… I can’t. It… it hurts so much already.”
“I know. But I did tell you it would hurt more before we were through.”
“Can’t you… can’t you just… forgive me?” she pleaded, her eyes shining with new tears.
“I do, darlin’, but you still have to be punished.”
“But…” She swallowed hard, trying not to break down and throw herself at his feet to beg for mercy. “Isn’t there another way? I’ll do anything you ask, Wesley. Please.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it, because what I want is for you to bend over that chair and take the lickin’ you’ve got comin’.”
She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. How could he even ask it of her? Yet, after several long moments during which neither of them spoke, she moved toward the chair. As she neared it, Wesley backed away. When she leaned over it, her entire body was trembling at the knowledge of what was to come.
“Bend over further. There—like that. I want your bottom good and high. Now, if I were you, I’d grab hold of those rungs there. Good. That’s a good girl.”
She smiled tremulously, though she didn’t dare look back at him this time.
“Now, I’m going to lift your dress, but I’ll leave your skirts down, this time.”
She supposed she should thank God for small mercies. But she hadn’t any time, because nearly as soon as he’d done it, the belt came whistling through the air and down on her upturned bottom. Libby let out a shriek that was unlike any sound she’d ever heard before. She couldn’t stop gasping as her rear exploded in a fresh bout of pain.
“Oh, Wesley!” she cried out. “Please, no more, no more. I can’t take any more!”
“We’ve only just started, honey. Relax—it won’t be pleasant, but I won’t give you more than you take, I promise.”
It was cold comfort indeed—a funny thing to think while her bottom blazed with heat inside her drawers. The second loud thwack of the belt was just as hard to take as the first. By the third, Libby’s hands were clenching and unclenching on the rungs. She wanted to let go so badly, but she had a feeling she’d only end up in the dirt for her trouble.
The fourth landed lower than she expected, and she wailed at the terrible, biting pain of it. Wesley paused for a moment, giving her a few seconds to stamp her feet in the dirt. She felt like an angry bull for a moment there. Or else, a horse being tamed.
“How many more?” she cried out desperately, when she could speak at all.
“Until I say,” was his brisk answer. No sooner had he spoken, a fifth angry stripe landed on her backside.
“Ow!” she howled at the injustice of being whipped over an already red rear.
When the sixth fell, it somehow managed to crisscross all the previous stripes he’d made and she dissolved into a heap of sobs over the stool. She wasn’t aware of anything but the horrible, angry biting of her tender cheeks. She wouldn’t sit for a week at least! Perhaps a fortnight! Oh, she just didn’t know if she’d ever recover!
When her sobs softened to whimpers, Libby realized that the whipping seemed to have stopped. She turned her head and saw that Wesley had already put his belt back on and was standing, watching her. She flushed with shame—she knew she looked a wreck, and she’d come by it honestly. Doing her best to scrub her cheeks clean with her hands, she sniffled one more time and turned to face him.
“I think we’d best head inside.”
“Oh?”
“You need to apologize to my sister.”
Her stomach sank at the announcement, but really, it was no more than she expected. She only wished that the fact that she’d been whipped would dissuade him that apologies weren’t necessary, but she knew better than to broach the subject. She’d hate to see him whip that belt off once more. The mere thought made her feel like sobbing all over again.
So it was with her head hung in embarrassment and pain
that she followed meekly alongside him. All too soon, it seemed to her, they reached the farmhouse. Once they were inside, Libby couldn’t help but notice that a tense silence permeated the air.
“Maggie, come over here, please.” Wesley’s voice was still gruff as he spoke. Was it because of her, or Maggie? She couldn’t help but wonder. “Libby has something she’d like to say.”
Libby risked glancing up and saw that the older girl was now in front of her. To her surprise, she realized that Maggie’s eyes were red-rimmed, and though she’d done her best to wipe her cheeks clean, they were still streaked with tears. Did she look worse, she wondered, than Libby herself did? Either way, they were both a poor sight to behold.
Behind her, Wesley cleared his throat, and she knew that he was running out of patience.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have… done what I did.”
Maggie surveyed her with cool eyes. “I accept your apology, Libby,” she replied with frigid politeness. “And I apologize for anything I said that might have offended you.”
Yet, despite the apology, there was a definite hostility in Maggie’s face. There was no denying it. Libby swallowed over the lump in her throat before she too said she accepted the girl’s apology. But for all their pretty, polite words, there was still friction between them. When Maggie said goodbye with fire in her eyes, Libby knew that nothing she could say or do would make a difference.
“Might I have a word with you before you go, Libby?”
She winced as she heard Ma Swift’s voice. She walked with slow, careful steps toward the older woman, feeling her sore bottom protest with every step. She hadn’t counted on a lecture from her as well, but she braced herself for it just the same.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I just wanted you to know that Maggie told me everything.”
Libby swallowed hard. “She…she did?”
“Yes, she did. And she has been punished for what she put you through. But I wish you would have come to me yourself, my dear. That would have made things far simpler for all of us, don’t you think?”
She nodded miserably, hating the disappointment she heard in Mrs. Swift’s voice. She hadn’t realized just how much she respected the woman until now. She longed to burst into tears and have the matron comfort her, but she couldn’t allow herself such undignified behavior. So, instead she once again apologized for her actions. This time, at least, the words came much more naturally.