A couple of weeks ago, I did some ruminating on the Secret Baby plot and why it sort of freaks me out. I think one of the reasons that this particular plot is so popular with some romance readers is that it works on the “You’ll be sorry” principle. And the “You’ll be sorry” principle is a driving force in a lot of romances.

We all know what the “You’ll be sorry” principle is, of course. It’s the impulse you have when somebody does something that hurts you or someone you love, and you find yourself hoping that sometime in the future they’ll suffer for having done it. Simplicity in itself. Of course, this rarely happens, or anyway it rarely happens in the way you hoped it would. Because the corollary of the “You’ll be sorry” principle is the “And I’ll know how you’ve suffered” codicil. It’s not enough that the offending person should suffer some comeuppance for having done you wrong—you want to know that they’ve suffered too. In fact, ideally, these people should not only suffer, they should also come to you and express remorse. Or if not that, you should at least be fully aware of their suffering so that you can, well, revel in it.

So some secret baby stories, like Elizabeth Lowell’s This Time Love, work by bringing the wandering impregnator back to suffer for having treated the heroine’s love so casually. See? the heroine seems to say. I’ve raised this perfect little girl without you after going through hell. And now you’re on the outside looking in. Nyah, nyah, nyah. Well, okay, I added that last bit, but it fits. The hero then suffers quite openly for the heroine’s enjoyment.

Some authors even pull off the ultimate “You’ll Be Sorry” fantasy—the “you’ll-miss-me-when-I’m-dead” variation. Take Julia Quinn’s The Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever, for example. The heroine, the aforementioned Miranda Cheever, spends a great deal of time trying to please her husband, the book’s hero. He, however, has been badly hurt by his previous wife’s infidelity and shows little or no interest in his exemplary spouse. Until she’s dying, that is. Miranda comes down with some conveniently almost fatal illness, and her husband realizes, only as she’s about to slip this mortal coil, that she’s absolutely perfect for him. His misery over his former behavior is, of course, abject. And Miranda gets to recover in time to revel in it.

What this all boils down to is pretty straightforward, I think. Most of us feel unappreciated at least some of the time, and those feelings of neglect can be painful. In the “You’ll be sorry” plot, we get to watch somebody else get validated. The people who have treated them badly get suitably ass-kicked. And the hero/heroine gets to gloat. That none of this is particularly sterling behavior doesn’t really matter. We’re talking fantasy here, folks, and we in the romance business know all about wish fulfillment. Nyah, nyah, nyah!