<span style="font-weight: bold">Ambrosine</span><br/><br/>The pretty dress my father had bought me had been ruined - slashed rent by the whip, and then the blood… my back was ruined, and I’d no idea if it would heal. My face was ruined, tears and snot, though that could be wiped. Like my hopes and dreams had been wiped.<br/><br/>Anything would be better than this hell. Anything.<br/><br/>Then Lady Catherine said that she was going to be honest with us. Told us we were going to be meals.<br/><br/>“Please don’t,” I whispered, straining my neck to gaze up at her. “I’ll do anything. Beat me as much as you like…<span style="font-style: italic">use</span>me as you like… just don’t…” I gulped. “Don’t<span style="font-style: italic">cook</span>me,” I whispered, undone by the horror of it all.