Chapter Three

“VERONICA, WELCOME.” A tall woman with black hair streaked with a touch of gray, flanked by two marginally shorter women, stood on the steps leading up to the house. “I’m Martha MacLeod.” She gestured to the other women. “This is my sister Elaine, and Lucia Caruso.”

Am I in the land of the giants? Fuck, they’re all so tall. And gorgeous. And my bosses. Damn. Think. Say something. Get it together. You’ve seen hot women before, be cool. “Hi.”

Martha took her hand and shook it. Her grip was firm and her gaze steady as she spoke. “I’m happy you decided to join us. Jaya and Sarah gave you the highest marks on their references. We’ve been too long without a proper barn manager.”

The woman she identified as Elaine moved forward. Her bright red hair was pulled back in a tight chignon highlighting the sharp angles of her face. Elaine’s dark-green eyes settled on her like a hawk spotting a rabbit. Veronica had to stop herself from pulling her jacket tighter around herself and crossing her arms.

Elaine took Veronica’s hand. She gave it a hard squeeze and rubbed her thumb over the back of her knuckles before she released her. She rested her hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow at Veronica, her lips pulled back into a sharp smile. “Are you hungry?”

Doesn’t look like she means food. Damn. Veronica’s ears burned as the flush rose in her face. “I…I’m…I had some snacks on the ride. I’m good.”

“Easy Elaine, don’t frighten her off.” The third woman stepped forward and gripped Elaine’s shoulders. She gently moved her to the side before she stepped around her. She smiled a gentle smile at Veronica. “I’m Lucia.”

Elaine snorted and shot Lucia a glare. “I was asking about dinner.” She returned her laser focus to Veronica, and her face twisted into what passed for a smile. “Staff dinner is at six. Don’t miss it.” Elaine shot another hard glare at Lucia before she walked back into the house.

Lucia stepped forward and clasped Veronica’s hand with both of hers. “I’m sorry. Cook—I mean, Elaine—takes some getting used to. I’m sure you’re tired from your trip. Millie will get you settled. Take care of yourself. Martha will talk with you in the morning about your duties.” Her gentle command was wrapped in the firm kindness of her voice and Veronica found herself lost in the blue-green of her eyes, and the sensation of Lucia’s touch. Lucia released her hand and straightened.

Martha smiled at Veronica before she slipped her arm through Lucia’s, the subtle inclination of Lucia’s body as she leaned into Martha and the way she settled her hand over Martha’s arm a quiet demonstration of the palpable love between them. Veronica turned away. She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. What would it be like to have someone look at you like you were the only woman on earth? Someone who wanted only you? Dee. Why’d I think it would be easier to forget her here?

 

MILLIE LED THE way up the covered stairs leading to the second story of the barn. She opened the door and passed the key back to Veronica. The entryway to the room held a coat rack and a boot tray along with a small bench. She followed Millie into the room. A double bed with a brass head and footrail was placed at right angles to the wall. A small refrigerator next to the bed served as a nightstand and held a reading lamp. An oak armoire and small dresser took up space under the eve opposite the bed. A narrow bookshelf held an electric kettle and two cups, a French coffee press, and a small red-and-white tin. Veronica prayed it held whatever coffee she had been served in the car. Heavy dark-blue curtains covered the window at the gable end of the room. Underneath the window was a plain cherrywood desk and chair. Centered in the middle of the desk was a thick folder.

Millie pointed to a narrow door. “The washroom and toilet are through there.” She placed Veronica’s backpack on the floor before she met her gaze. “I need to add your phone to the tracking app we use for the staff.”

Veronica pushed away her rising anxiety over surrendering her phone even though she had closed her accounts and deleted all of the social media apps from it before she left home. After her release, her phone had been her connection to others. On social media she could be an avatar, and no one judged her about her past. It had also been easy to stalk her ex-lover, and make herself crazy-sad as she scrolled through the photos of Dee with her baby and the smoking hot butch she had married. Dee had made a family while Veronica served time. I can do this. Let it go. Be here. Time to stop torturing myself. Start over. Be present. I’ll be so busy with the barn I won’t even think about her.

She pulled her phone from her back pocket, unlocked it, and passed the device to Millie. “Do you need my e-reader?” Veronica opened the padded pocket on her pack and removed her reader.

“Anything that can receive a signal.” Millie tucked the phone into her jacket pocket and took the reader from Veronica. “I’ll get them back to you this evening and give you the password for the Wi-Fi. We don’t allow workers or visitors to have phones or recording devices in the main house, stable, or play areas. Because you’re staff and will be sleeping out here away from the house you’re allowed access to your phone. When you come to the house for meals, leave it in your room, or the office downstairs. After I enter it in our system, I’ll add my number and Mistress Martha’s to your contacts.”

“Thanks.”

Millie raised an eyebrow. “What kind of books do you read?”

“Everything as long as it has a happy ending.” Veronica lowered her chin to her chest, shy under Millie’s direct gaze.

“Everyone deserves a happy ending.” Millie’s voice was so soft Veronica wasn’t sure she had spoken. “The house has a large library, and a bunch of trade paperback books if you run out of things to read.” Millie tapped the e-reader against her palm. “One of the submissives from the house will clean your room on Tuesdays and change your sheets. Place your clothes in the purple laundry bag hanging in the armoire and they’ll wash them and get them back to you the next day. Staff meals are at half six, noon, and six. If you want something earlier, or anything else related to food in between, you need to speak with the kitchen staff and arrange it. The folder on the desk has a copy of your contract, a map of the house and grounds, and handbook of house rules. Staff meetings are the first Monday of the month. You’ve missed this month’s meeting but if you have anything you want to discuss before next month’s meeting make an appointment with Mistress Martha.”

“Um, okay. Wow.” Veronica swept her gaze around the room. Despite her nap in the car all she wanted was a hot shower and her bed. She failed to stifle her yawn.

Millie squeezed her shoulder. “You look done in. I’ll knock you up at half five for staff meal.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows. “What?”

Millie laughed and Veronica loved the way her whole body laughed, the mellow round sound filling the small room. “I guess I shouldn’t assume you’d understand. Let me translate. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.” She left and pulled the door closed with a soft click.

Veronica tossed the key on the desk. She sat on the edge of the bed and dug in her pack for her toiletry bag, sleep shorts, and tank top. Her eyes. Golden brown. Beautiful laugh. She’s hot and doesn’t even get it. Hell, they’re all hot here. What’s the matter with me? Not going there. I bet the femmes are lined up three deep for her. The familiar ache of isolation settled in Veronica’s chest.

 

A SHARP RAP at the door startled Veronica awake. She rolled off the bed and landed on her feet, her heart thumping in her chest. She gripped the headboard to steady herself. Safe. I’m safe. No one’s going to toss my room. I’m safe. Breathe. In out, let it go. She walked to the door, touching each piece of furniture on her way to reassure herself she was not dreaming. She took another deep breath and blew it out before she opened the door. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air. Millie’s swift glance at her chest before she brought her gaze back to Veronica’s face reminded her she was still in her thin tank top and boxer-briefs. “Yes?”

Millie held up her phone and her e-reader. “I finished with these.” Her fingers brushed over Veronica’s hand as she passed off the items, and Veronica shivered. Chilly. It’s not her. Totally not her. Right. Liar. I’m ridiculous. It’s been too long. Way too long. Be cool. “Thanks. I downloaded a new series of books before I got on the plane and was looking forward to reading the second one tonight.”

Millie arched a brow. “We’re pretty informal at staff dinner but I’m betting you’ll be more comfortable with clothes.”

The devilish gleam in her eye had Veronica flushing again. “Yeah. Give me a minute.” Ask her in? No. Think.

The sparkle in Millie’s eyes and the half smile on her face suggested she could sense Veronica’s indecision about asking her into her room while she changed. “I’ll wait here.” She pulled the door closed with a click.

Giving me space. Chivalrous. Good woman. Veronica spilled her backpack contents over the bed and found her best pair of jeans and pulled them on over her briefs. One black T-shirt later she was ready to go. She snagged her jacket from the hall tree as she passed and she stepped out on to the landing.

Millie was at the bottom of the steps. She had changed into a pair of faded jeans, and a dark-green V-neck pullover. The short sleeves were tight across her arms, highlighting her thick triceps, sculpted biceps, and the sharply defined muscles of her forearms. The late evening light backlit Millie’s features. Veronica studied her profile and the fine line of her jaw. Broken nose. More than once. Wonder how? Gives her a rakish look. Millie’s tight shirt also displayed the sweeping curves of her breasts and a stunningly deep cleavage.

Millie glanced at her and smiled. Veronica missed a step, stumbled forward, and clutched the rail. Damn it. Focus. Falling down the steps is not the way to have her under me. Fuck, where did that come from?

Millie bounded up the steps between them and stood in front of Veronica, a hand on either rail. She peered into Veronica’s face. “You okay?” She turned forward and presented her arm. “Hold on to me. These steps are dark. I’ll get a light installed.”

Damn she’s fast. Get it together. Veronica stared at Millie’s thick forearm. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Thanks. I guess I’m still not awake.” Liar. What I get for staring. At least she thinks I’m clumsy instead of a creeper.

Millie captured Veronica’s hand and settled it on her arm, not waiting for her response.

She’s ripped. Damn. Veronica fought the urge to squeeze Millie’s forearm and the firm flesh under her palm. She’s being nice. That’s all.

Millie made sure Veronica navigated the rest of the stairs without incident. When they cleared the last step and were on the graveled drive, Veronica lifted her hand from Millie’s arm. “Thanks. I think I’m good now.” She avoided Millie’s gaze, curled her fingers into her palm, and tried to forget the sensation of Millie’s strong arm under her fingers. She acts like I’m someone special. Does she treat everyone this way? The concern in her voice, like I was special, someone worth protecting.

“Do we need to see about the horses?” Veronica stopped and inclined her head toward the barn.

“No. Benita and June helped me. They’re tucked in for the night.”

Veronica glanced at Millie. “Do you do everything here?”

Millie laughed. “No. It only seems like it. All the submissives start in the stable before they move on to other jobs in the house. We expect everyone to be able to do what needs to be done unless they’re hired, as you were, for a specific task. Having them work in the stable is a way to assess their temperament.”

Veronica frowned. “How?”

“If they get frustrated with the horses, or mistreat them, we end their contract. Martha believes you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat animals and children.”

“She’s right.”

“Aye. About many things.”

Millie’s eyes took on a faraway look, a thousand-yard stare Veronica wanted to ask about but didn’t.

 

THE HOUSE WAS warm, and Veronica peeled out of her light jacket. Millie showed her the mudroom and a hook labeled with her name to hang her coat. She took off her boots and placed them on the mud tray next to the door.

She pointed at a white-painted door to the left of the coat hooks. “Washroom is through there. You can leave a pair of indoor shoes here, under your hook. Floor’s cold in the winter.” Millie pulled off her shoes and tugged on a pair of loafers. “Hell, it’s cold in the summer too.” She grinned up at Veronica.

Veronica followed Millie into a large dining room. A long walnut plank table was set for ten. Two chairs at either end and two long benches provided seating. Millie sat and pointed to the bench opposite her. “We don’t have assigned places but leave the ends open. Roxy and Danica are left-handed and hate sitting on the benches.”

Veronica took a seat directly across from Millie. A curvy woman in a bright white chef’s jacket, open at the neck, approached Millie. A thin collar of black and red leather twisted together graced her neck. A small silver tag with engraving Veronica could not read was centered in the hollow of her throat. She leaned down and kissed Millie on the lips. Veronica studied her fingernails, not wanting to intrude on their display of affection.

“Veronica, this is Myfanwy.”

Veronica rose up from the bench to shake Myfanwy’s hand. “My pleasure. Thank you for the muffins. They were the closest thing to heaven I’ve tasted in a long, long time.”

Myfanwy’s hand was soft and her grip firm, her eyes a warm brown. She met Veronica’s gaze. “Oh, I like your style, but Robin is the one who made those muffins.” She rested her hand on Millie’s shoulder. “I hope you’re hungry, I got a little carried away with dinner tonight. I read through your application, Veronica, but I always like to check in person. You don’t have any allergies?”

“No. And I’ll eat whatever you’re serving. I’m not a huge fan of lima beans, but other than that, I’m open to anything.”

Myfanwy opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by another voice.

“Are you going to serve the soup, or should I?” A thin woman with a mop of curly blonde hair and large blue eyes pushed through the swinging door leading to the kitchen. She bustled into the room and placed a large platter of sliced bread in the center of the table. She glanced at Veronica, blushed, and backed away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Myfanwy inclined her head toward Veronica. “Robin, come meet Veronica, the new stable manager. She’s in love with your muffins. I’ll get the soup.”

“Hello,” Robin mumbled as she bobbed her head at Veronica, avoiding eye contact before she scurried from the room, not waiting for Veronica to reply.

What the hell? Am I so scary? Veronica twisted the edge of her napkin in her hands.

Millie reached across the table and touched the back of Veronica’s hand, drawing her attention. “Robin’s a bit skittish. She’s been through it.” She held Veronica’s gaze. Her expression said more than her words could about Robin’s fearful exit. Distracted by Millie’s eyes, Veronica studied her face, enjoying the moment far more than she should. Those gold flecks in her eyes, like tigereye gems. So unique. And beguiling. Her eyes are exquisite. And her lush mouth. Millie’s mouth pulled into a cocky grin as if she could read Veronica’s mind.

“Hey, Millie, she doesn’t seem like your type. Give the rest of us a chance.”

Veronica eyed the bleached-blonde woman who entered and sat in the chair at the head of the table. She wore a pale-blue diaphanous peignoir, and a faded brown leather collar with a worn brass tag.

“Roxy, Veronica, Veronica, Roxy. Chief troublemaker, and submissive to the queen.”

Roxy laughed. “Elaine would like that you referred to her as such.” She smiled at Veronica and extended her hand. “And I’m a free agent.”

“Nice to meet you.” Veronica shook her hand and forced herself to look into Roxy’s eyes instead of her voluptuous body on display under the sheer material of her gown.

The rest of the house staff arrived and arranged themselves on the benches, most of them welcoming, in some cases flirty, all of them wearing collars with brass tags and a few of them not much else.

I’ll never remember all their names. A trickle of sweat ran down between Veronica’s shoulder blades, and she focused on her meal. No matter how much she had told herself she would be fine in a house full of women whose purpose was to serve other women in whatever capacity they wanted, she was overwhelmed. And charmed. Every woman who entered made a point to shake her hand and welcome her with genuine smiles. They’re people. Like me. Even if they’re half dressed. She flushed when she thought of her whore comment to Millie. Ugh. I can’t believe I used that word. How many times have I used it like a weapon? Guilt spread over her like a heavy blanket. So ignorant. Never again.

The women chatted with one another, occasionally switching to Spanish or Italian as they laughed and talked. Veronica was happy she had paid attention in Spanish class but didn’t reveal she could understand them, preferring to listen to their discussions rather than participate. Myfanwy had joined them, sitting next to Millie on the bench opposite Veronica. She listened as Millie spoke quietly to Myfanwy in a language Veronica had never heard and could not even begin to imagine what it was. Casual touches and intimate eye contact passed between Millie and Myfanwy, and Veronica did her best not to stare. The disc on Myfanwy’s collar caught the light, and Veronica made out a script “M” engraved on the disc. They’re lovers. She’s hers. Should’ve known she’d be with someone.

Myfanwy returned to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she pushed through the door with a large tureen of soup. She placed it in the middle of the table and served each of them. The soup was a colorful mix of vegetables, lentils, and spicy sausage. Veronica savored a spoonful of the soup, appreciating the complex mix of spices. I won’t starve here. So good. She was disappointed when Myfanwy left with the remains of the soup and regretted not asking for seconds. She settled for another slice of the bread and mopped up the dregs of the soup in her bowl.

The small hairs on Veronica’s arms stood up, and she sensed someone staring at her. She glanced up and into the darkest brown eyes she had ever seen. The woman’s hair was slicked back tight against her head, the smile on her face predatory. She rested her hand on her narrow waist, her large breasts marginally contained by the dark-green corset she wore. “I’m Ashley.” The latecomer sat down next to Millie and pushed Myfanwy’s place setting to the side.

Oblivious to Millie’s sharp glare, she kept her gaze fixed on Veronica’s face as she extended her hand. Her blood-red nail polish matched the lipstick she was wearing. She licked her lower lip before she spoke. “Welcome. Has anyone given you a tour of the house?”

Veronica reached across the table and shook her hand briefly. “No. I…”

Millie spoke over Veronica, her voice hard-edged and direct. “She’s just arrived. And if she’s interested in a tour, I’ll assign someone.”

Roxy cleared her throat loudly. “Stay in your lane, Ashley. As for tours”—Roxy’s eyes held a challenge, her tone icy—“you’ll have to get in line.”

Ashley arched a brow at Roxy. “Don’t you have to ask permission?” She turned and quirked her mouth at Millie. “You’re such a control freak.” She stood up abruptly, snagged a slice of bread from the platter, and flounced from the room.

The room had grown quiet, the sexy fun atmosphere evaporating in Ashley’s wake. Ashley. Won’t forget her name. She’s got piece of work written all over her. What’s that about? And what’s up with Millie? Sensing a power struggle she knew nothing about, Veronica returned her focus to her meal. She spread a thick layer of butter on another slice of bread.

Conversation between the women resumed, a signal the fraught moment had passed. Veronica kept her head down and watched the other women from under her lashes. A tour. A real tour? Or is it their code for sex? Ashley. So not my type. Maybe I need a “tour.” Take the edge off. Who would she assign? Would I have a choice? Sex. With a prostitute. Sex worker. How would it be different from the women I paid for with dinner and drinks? It’d be more honest. Veronica traced the wood grain of the table with her finger as she sorted through her thoughts.

“Don’t let Ashley ruin your meal, Veronica.”

Millie’s husky voice slid under her skin and sent a shiver down her back. Not a command. A request. Trying to make me feel better. Veronica studied Millie’s face. Her eyes. Worried about me. Wants to make sure I’m okay. She’s kind. Like Myfanwy. A matched pair.

“Myfanwy’s trifle is not to be missed.”

“I’m a fan of desserts.” Veronica sipped her water. And you.