Gemma raced up the servants’ stairs and back to her room. Her heart continued to pound against her chest and her lungs hurt with each breath. As she closed the door, she leaned against the cold wood and slid down to the floor, legs outstretched.
Oh my Lord, what have I done?
She closed her eyes, her body shaking, and wondered what she would do now. It was highly likely that she would be asked to leave Maitland House. After being caught sneaking around the chances of being allowed to stay were minimal. If she were the Master, she would dismiss herself. Squeezing her hands into tight fists she realised her days in employment were most certainly coming to an end. How would she keep herself out of the workhouse now? No doubt she would not be furnished with a reference, given her scandalous behaviour, so her choices were limited.
But her future prospects were overshadowed by her reactions to what she had done. Her body still throbbed at the memory of what she had witnessed—oh, the things she had seen! She closed her eyes as her face heated again, knowing with certainty that she would have stayed and watched for longer had Master Darius not interrupted her. She would have continued to touch herself, feeling sensations she had never before thought possible.
Sensations she still felt. Loosening her clenched fists, she placed her palms on the floor and pushed upright. She removed the cotton cap from her hair and pulled out the few pins holding it in place, shaking the unruly mop of auburn curls free.
Oh, Lord. Not only had she been caught watching a sinful act, but Darius knew she had touched herself. He knew she had felt things and even worse…that she had liked it! How could she ever face him again?
As she undid the ties of her apron and dress she thought of her friend Lucy and how much she was going to miss her. How would Lucy ever forgive her for making a mess of things, or for her stupidity?
She finished removing her remaining clothes and reached for the silk robe hanging on the rack next to her bed. The soft silk slid seductively across her cheek as she held the garment to her nose to inhale the sweet smell of the lavender pouch she always kept in the pocket. The gown had been a gift from Lucy in happier times and she treasured the luxury of the beautiful material. Slipping into the gown, she drew the sides tightly across her middle and tied the belt firmly around her waist, thinking about how her life had changed since leaving the Hall.
A lone owl hooted, drawing her attention to the window. She opened it, enjoying the moonlight silvering the garden below. The hushed quiet of the tranquil scene did nothing to calm the tumultuous thoughts racing through her head. Her skin tingled, still alive with sensation. She re-positioned her arms, folding them tighter across her belly, rubbing the soft silk against her nipples and setting off renewed responses. The room was stifling from the uncharacteristic warmth of this London summer, but the window was too small to afford decent ventilation.
Thinking that some cool air would help her calm down, she slipped out of the room and down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. That room too was oppressively warm from the fire in the hearth that was never allowed to burn out.
She opened the door to the garden and took a few steps outside. The smells of the herbs and flowers were sweet in the night. She closed her eyes and thought of the garden at the Hall. If she tried really hard she could imagine herself sitting in her quiet corner listening to the birds and the water from the stream, and not here in London where by day the clamour and stench of crowds were commonplace.
The stones under her feet were rough and uneven, so she picked her way through the rose arbour that covered the pathway separating the ornamental garden from the vegetable patch. She sighed as her feet touched the soft grass. Ah…bliss! She spied a wooden bench under an oak tree, sat down and drew in the cool evening air.
Gradually her heart slowed and her breathing returned to normal as she listened to the quiet of the summer night. Her eyes flickered, opening and closing as she struggled to stay awake. Falling asleep in the garden would be one more black mark against her, but as she was already convinced this would be her last night at Maitland House she did not return to her room. She wanted to enjoy this piece of tranquillity as long as she could. Who knew what the morrow would bring? Perhaps she could return to the village and beg the new mistress of the Hall to give her room and board in exchange for work in the kitchen. The new lady of the Hall, with her newly acquired airs and graces, would love to see Gemma reduced to that state. She knew she would hate it, but given the choice between that and the workhouse, she knew which form of hell she would prefer.
Muffled laughter brought her back to the present. She looked around but could not see anyone else. She didn’t want to be discovered, so she moved off the bench and pressed her back against the hedge behind her. She heard the laughter again and realised it was coming from the other side of the hedge. Burrowing deeper in case they walked past her, she parted the leaves slightly, gasping at what she could see with only the moonlight offering a shadowy view of the proceedings.
A man and a woman lay on a blanket in the dark. The woman was on her back, her skirts flung upwards exposing her legs. The man knelt between her legs, his face buried in her sex.
“Marcus, that tickles. “ The woman giggled.
The man lifted his head slightly. “Thank God. I thought I wasn’t doing it right.”
As the man lowered his head again the woman let out a loud squeak. “Oh, I believe you could do it a bit better, sir.”
The man grunted, followed by the woman’s scream.
Gemma released the branches and stood back. Her body was hot and sweaty, and her nipples painful. She’d been at Maitland House for a month without realising the extent of the debauched behaviour. How had that happened? Thinking back, the whispered giggles among some of the other maids and the frequent disappearances of staff without any apparent consequence made sense to her. Perhaps her employers were waiting for her to discover it all for herself and wanted to see her reaction. The veil was now off her eyes. Everywhere she looked brought her a view of one more erotic scene.
She tried to think of the best way to escape without being noticed, for she had learnt her lesson this afternoon. It would not be prudent for her to stay longer and risk discovery. She could not bear it if Darius found her in such a compromising position again.
Darius stood by his window swirling the brandy in his glass when a flash of movement caught his eye. By the light of the moon he could just make out a reddish glint in the curls of the woman as she hurried to hide in the centre of the hedge.
Interesting.
He continued to watch for a few minutes, but she had yet to reappear.
He smiled. There was no time like the present to start her lessons, he thought. He drained his glass and placed it on the side table near his door as he left the room.
He slipped through the kitchen and reached the garden scant minutes later. He spied a strip of white poking through the leaves of the hedge. Good, he thought. She was still there. Upon hearing a loud, lusty cry from the other side of the hedge, he knew the reason behind her hiding place.
She really is a naughty girl, he thought. And naughty girls deserve to be taught a lesson.
He walked quietly towards the hedge just as his quarry backed out. He grabbed her upper arms to prevent her colliding into him. “Shh…” he whispered against her ear. “They will hear you.”
She struggled against him, rubbing her delectable bottom against his groin, gasping when his erection pressed against her. Good. He wanted her to know that finding her enjoying a carnal act pleasured him.
“Please let me go, sir,” she whispered.
He smiled, sensing her arousal. “Why would you want to leave, my dear?” Sliding a hand over her arm and brushing her hair aside, he exposed the white skin of her neck. “Just when it’s getting interesting.”
She shivered, turning her head to the side. “We shouldn’t be watching, sir. It’s private.”
He nuzzled her neck and placed his lips against the sensitive spot just below her ear. “That’s where you are wrong. Unless the activities are in a private room, all is open to be seen here at Maitland House.”
Gemma fidgeted, trying to turn to face him. “B-b-but why would anyone agree to th-that? “
He wrapped both his arms around her body, brushing her breasts. “Because, my dear one, this place is about fantasies. Being watched, like watching, is something people enjoy.”
“But that is wicked!”
Darius laughed softly. “Some might say so, but do you really believe that to feel pleasure, to live out your deepest fantasies…is wicked?” he said as he cupped her breasts.
Her nipples lengthened. Gemma gasped and wriggled. I…um…” She leaned her body back against his, sighing as her bottom touched his groin.
“Well? I expect an answer, Gemma,” he said, tweaking her nipples and squeezing them gently.
She struggled against him and lifted her arms, covering his hands with her own and tugging at them.
But he held firm. “Answer me. Can you honestly say you would forgo pleasure just because society tells you you must?”
She shook her head back and forth. “I don’t…I don’t really know, sir.”
His heart lifted at her response. He was correct in believing she was ready for this. “Very good. An honest answer.” He released her nipples and placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Do not ever deny your pleasure or your needs, little one. It leads to many problems, some you would not even dream of.”
“But what if some of those needs are not allowed. What of the new laws?”
“You speak of the Labouchere amendment? I am impressed that you are aware of the affairs of the government.”
She took a step backwards. “Impressed, sir? Why? Because as a scullery maid I am not expected to read?”
Intrigued with her spirit, he smiled. “Quite frankly, my dear, yes. I have never before met a scullery maid who reads the newspaper.”
She looked up, her eyes flashing and her nostrils flaring. “I was not always a scullery maid sir. Before I came to Maitland House I was a lady’s maid and companion.”
That certainly explained her dignity and her eloquent speech. His interest was truly piqued. “Is that so? And for whom did you fulfil these onerous duties?”
She looked away. “No one of any consequence, sir. You should be more interested in how you keep the constabulary from closing down this household and locking you and the Master away in the Old Bailey.”
The sound of more laughter accompanied by footsteps signalled the departure of the couple from the other side of the hedge.
“It seems our friends have left us,” he said as he reached up and slipped a stray curl behind her ear. “Do not worry on our account, we are quite safe within these walls. The Master has many friends and clients from the government.”
She shivered when he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Her skin was as soft as the finest velvet.
“Th-that is very interesting, sir.”
He stepped closer, feeling her soft breath against his neck as he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Yes it is, but not as interesting as you, my dear. Now tell me more about your previous life.”
Moving her head, she tried to step away, but the hedge impeded her progress. “It’s all very boring, sir. I am sure there are others here at Maitland House who are more interesting than I.”
He leant forward, speaking softly against her ear. “I can see you are not ready to trust me yet, little one. But you will in time.”
Her shoulders rose as she shivered, despite the summer evening. “Please, sir, I should go back to my room,” she whispered. “I am needed in the kitchen in a few short hours.”
He sighed, knowing he should not hold her from her duties. “I will let you go when you agree to allow me to gain your trust.”
“I do not understand, sir.”
“If you will agree to meet with me tomorrow, I will show you more ways to feel pleasure.” He placed a finger over her lips. “Before you say no, I will assure you that nothing will happen unless you allow it to. If you ask to stop our lessons, I will honour your wishes.”
She stared at him, her face a picture of innocence. “I am not sure what you are asking, sir.”
“I want to show you what is possible. I want to teach you not to deny your feelings or that wonderful passion I see beneath your very proper appearance.” He kissed her lightly on her forehead, her skin warm and soft against his lips.
She looked away from him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I shouldn’t, sir.”
He smiled. “But you will.”
Still she refused to look at him. “You will let me go if I ask it of you?”
“You have my word as a gentleman.”
“Please, sir. May I have this night to think about it?”
He cupped her face with both hands, turning her to face him. “Look at me, Gemma.”
She slowly raised her eyes. “Please?”
His face was barely inches from her mouth. Her sweet breath mingled with his as he whispered against her lips. “You have until morning.”
She licked her bottom lip.
“Here is something to help you think about it.” His mouth covered hers.
He had expected to coax her mouth open, but nothing prepared him for the spark of electricity once their lips met. His tongue licked along the seam of her mouth and she willingly opened for him, allowing him to invade the velvet depths. She sighed as he explored her mouth, flicking in and out slowly and sending heat coursing through his veins. He licked and tongued and suckled her mouth as she leaned into his embrace.
He struggled to withdraw, especially as his cock was as hard as a pole, but he knew the pleasure that awaited them on the morrow was worth some self-restraint now. As he eased away from the kiss, he smoothed his hands down her shoulders and gently pushed her back. Her eyes were burning with need and he almost took her again, but reluctantly held back. “Until tomorrow, little one.”
Her breathing was ragged as she stared at him for a few more seconds before walking to the house. He kept watching as she slipped back through the kitchen door, closing it softly behind her.
Only then did he allow himself to adjust his trousers. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day indeed.