Of Duty and Passion (Closed)

(Closed for Mignonette)

The unseasonable sunny day for the English Countryside made the sudden opening of the window shades the most abrupt means to awaken his lordship. Yet the young maid pulling the curtains did so quietly to, as it could seem, ease the man’s transition from slumber carefully. Charles Brownlow, still turned slowly over on the comfortably large bed and moaned as his body began to move. He twisted in the bedclothes and stretched his arms over his head with a grunt.

“I’ve brought some coffee, your lordship,” the girl chirped as she continued to pull the window curtains open. “When you be ready for it, that is. And the cook, she made some fine bread for ya as well, still warm to the touch.” As he began to rise up to sit at the edge of the bed, he watched her in her form fitting black maid dress. he was a small and thin creature, and had been under his service for a few years. She had hair, the color of the desert sands, knotted up into a bun which meant from behind he could see the small curves of her behind moving up through the lean waist and narrow shoulders. She was barely a wisp of a thing, but was still growing older for Brownlow’s tastes.

He strained to begin moving as his thirty year old body felt the pains of added duties called for deeper sleep to recover. Lord Brownlow was more busy than normal these last few days. Between his barony duties and the business of maintaining a thriving distillery, preparations were underway for the long awaited return of his younger brother from service to the king. Many of the last few days required long nights to allow his mind to be brought from the troubles of the day. This was the curse of being the great man that he is.

When his bare feet found the floor, he gave a hiss. “Still cold, I see,” he mentioned as he rose to his feet. The long nightshirt draped over his knees as he stretched his body in the new day’s sun.

She looked over her shoulder down to where he was first on the floor. “I can get ya some slippers, I can.”

He nodded his head sleepily and slid back onto the bed. The bed was well too large for a single man, but the staff of the manor knew he prefered sleeping alone under the covers at night. The rest of the chamber seemed to have the same vastness unfilled. Lady suitors suggested to him that it was because it needed a feminine touch, though that is quite unfair. His late wife whom died in childbirth selected most of furnishing here. As he has an heir, albeit an heir kept at the military academy, Charles Brownlow needed no new wife to furnish his chambers and whatever feminine touch he needed was why the house had staff.

When she arrived back, the girl went to her knees and slid the slippers onto her feet. He let them dangled there at the edge of the bed as her dainty fingers worked them onto him. Calling her older maybe unfair. She had yet to pass deep into womanhood, and looked still to be mistaken for a child. Her eyes, her face, even the freckling across her nose still remained as fresh as the first day she arrived at the manor. From underneath the nightshirt, his member started to awaken. It would be difficult not to let it react, seeing this little beauty he had so many times put to her knees before.

She caught the movement of the nightshirt, and acted as though she didn’t but instead rose to her feet and quickly moved towards the wardrobe. “If your lordship wishes, I can make a request to allow ya ta sleep further. I can take the coffee & bread back to the kitchen where they can be keeping it warm for ye.”

He stood up from the bed. He was a tall man, and with many of the women on staff smaller than normal he towered over them. While his face still required a shave and his darker hair was matted by sleep, he still had a quite handsome look kept him well visited by nearby nobility. As he moved across the floor to the girl, he felt stronger, more awake, and more ready for the day. She was pulling forth a dress shirt and black coat, when his arms encircled her from behind. “I don’t wish to sleep further, Abigale,” he said over her shoulder. “Warm bread would be nice, but I wouldn’t mind something else I expect is warm as well.”

She was stiff, holding the clothing as if frozen in time. “Please, sire. Not today. A long day, it is, and I have much too much to do.”

His hands gripped the skirting of her dress and began pulling it upward. “Do not consider rebuking me, little one.” His hand snaked under the hem of the dress and and found her undergarments. In no time, he had two of his fingers digging into her dry sex attempting to ready it for his intentions. Behind her he pushed his stiffness into the round curve of her bottom and moved it up to her back. Pushing further into her, his fingers dipped and slid knowledgeable of her hidden treasures as his other arm wrapped around her chest to grip a small breast through her dress. He made sure there was no distance between them, her body pulled back into his; the strong lord embracing the small maid.

In return, her only movement was to return the coat clothing to their place in the wardrobe. Then her arms just hung, making no attempt to resist him or even to assist him. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and stood steady until finally a little squeak escaped with a breath of air.

He knew that sound, and what his fingers were feeling confirmed it. She wasn’t ready for him, but she was ready enough for his tastes. In his arms he turned her towards the lounge, and pushed her shoulders down until she was bent over it. The skirts were up over her slim waist in a heartbeat and he had her undergarments to the floor just as quick.

She knew what was coming, and knew what to do. Her hands balled up, her eyes closed tight, and she waited for it to begin hoping the end will come quick.

His size versus hers made entry uncomfortable for both, but he knew her well enough to know she would adjust enough to make it pleasurable for him. Whether it was for her was no matter of course, but after a few pumps in he could see she was no longer wincing. In her moistening folds, he plunged himself until he met the end of her canal. He bent over only until he was able to grip her shoulders, and then began thrusting. They were quick thrusts, with a slow withdrawal before thrusting in again. He liked the sound of the air rushing from her when his hardness pressed her guts up to her diaphragm. With each push the smile on his face grew wider. This little one may be getting older for his tastes, but what made her good was the way that each time she reacted like the pain of getting it the first time. On one eagerly strong push, she gave a painful yelp and that is all he could handle. His phallic threw whatever seed left in him from the night before deep into her womb. He felt the soft pressure of her body squeeze around him, helping to drain the last of it into her. He remained for a short time inside of her, but held her in place so that whatever he had left ending inside of her body where he intended it to remain.

With time, he made it to his bread, now cold but still tasteful. She dressed him in riding pants, a long black coat, and the cravat freshly clean for good business of the day. He wouldn’t see the girl for much of the rest of the day, of course, her morning duties causing her body to be weak and thus giving her relief from further chores. Yet that is why he has a full staff, both to ensure the house is in good order, and to ensure the Lordship’s services are met.

Jane Sutton had been but a little girl of thirteen when she had come into Brownlow's services as a kitchen maid. She had been hired specifically to help the cooks in little tasks, such as cleaning and chopping vegetables for the meals. Coming from a poor family, young Jane always knew what hard work meant and so she almost never complained. Instead, she had found the manor a place of wonder. To a simple country girl such as her, it was like a dream come true and when she had been new to the place, she often envisioned herself living in such a grand manor herself, as the mistress of the home.

At fifteen her mother passed away, and many of her younger siblings were given away to the local orphanage. Robbed of a place to live, Jane had been lucky enough to be granted a small servant's chamber in the manor. And it was then that her dream facade began to crumble and she saw what was truly happening in this place.
The first time she had come across their master and one of the other maids was in the evening. She was just finishing making her round to assure all candles had been blown up, when she had heard muffled screams coming from the Master study. Curiously, she had peeked inside, only to see Martha, one of the maids, lying on her back on the table, her legs forced far apart and the Lord of the house thrusting wildly into her body.
For one second their eyes had met and quickly Jane had pulled away, running as quickly as her legs would carry her to her room.

Her second encounter with the Lord was far more intimate. He had called her into his room in order to change the bedding, even though it had been changed just in the morning. He had demanded for her to strip and the young girl had had no chance but to obey. She had feared for her purity in that moment, images of poor Martha still fresh in her mind. But he had not forced himself upon her that day. He had merely pointed out that she would grow to become a fine woman soon.

And how right he had been! Now at nineteen, Jane had become a natural beauty, her charms evident even underneath her simple servants' clothing.
She had light brown hair, which she always wore in a perfectly straight braid, which went all the way to her midback. Her face was delicate, with soft pink lips and large green eyes. She was of average height for a lady her age, with a body that firm from the hours of manual labour but still soft and feminine. Her breasts stood high and round on her chest, always pushing almost provocatively against the apron she was required to wear.

The kitchen staff had watched her development with worry and had kept her in the kitchen more and more, as far as possible from their Master's eyes. They all knew what happened to the pretty maids and they wanted to try to protect at least one of them.
That day however, some of the girls were sick with a strange flu that was going round and Jane was forced to go and look for Abigale to get some help in the kitchen. She was tasked to wake the Master this morning and was taking far longer than anyone would have anticipated.

Jane ran through the hallways until she reached the Master bedroom, where she noticed the door slightly ajar. Inside, she could hear muffled noises and as she spied through the slit, she saw Abigale, or rather Abigale's backside, as well as Brownlow, who was pushing into her with eagerness. The maid gave one cry and suddenly Jane saw the man hilt himself in the maid, groaning in bliss.
Jane was not stupid and knew very well what was happening. And it made her feel sorry for Abigale. Yet she also knew that the maid was luckier than most. She was clever enough to take precautions, for Jane had seen quite a few ladies being forced to leave the household with bellies swollen with child.

A few moments later the couple untangled and Jane waited a little longer until Abigale had helped the Master dress. Timing herself just right, she knocked on the door before entering with a curtsy.
"I apologize for the intrusion, my lord. I just came to inform Abigale that she is required downstairs in the kitchen."
All the while she kept her eyes cast down, unable to look at the man she had just seen claim a woman.
He hadnt seen her in months, seeing as she had always kept to the kitchen, a place where the Master of the house never ventured and suddenly she felt very self-conscious. Luckily, he had juts had his bliss, which would maybe cause him to take less notice of her.

Abigale was assisting Charles with his dress coat when the younger maid entered. It was a formal intrusion and the girl was well mannered for her imposition, so the lord had no reason to raise a temper. He just looked over his shoulder to the woman he so recently pumped his seed into. She watched him, awaiting his approval to leave, and with a nod he gave it.

As Abigale started to leave, he waved towards the younger one to come closer. “I should be finished with the bread and coffee here shortly enough for you to take back, lass, so please stay and keep me company while I eat?” He sat at a lounge chair next to the tray that held his breakfast. He took a short moment to spread some jam onto the bread and some time to appreciate the girl. “Remind again of your name, little one? I can get forgetful of such things.” Of course he remembered the rest of her if not the name, even if he saw only glimpses of her. Like many on his staff that carry her kind of beauty, he had asked her to present herself to him some time ago. Since that time she had rounded out more, and because what he saw was only occasional glimpses he appreciated more her womanly development.

Normally, asking a maid to stay just to watch him eat was the least of expectations; however, it seems that the steady flow of his own eagerness is for the moment waning with the final throes in Abigale. In his effort to take his mind off of his duties, Abigale is only the morning taste. He had used Martha as a work horse for most of the recent days, but she has grown more and more willing with time; which is to suggest she grows feelings for him, an unacceptable condition for his staff in the least. Much of the reason he keeps his Man of the House well paid is that he ensures a large staff that meets much of Charles’s pallet. Even if his appetite is quite fulfilled for the moment, it is young maidens like the girl standing before him that makes him satisfied with his man’s staffing skills.

Sliding a bit of bread in his mouth, he appreciated the maid, “Are you aware of my brother’s arrival? Have you duties with respect to his chamber?”

Abigale sent Jane an almost pitiful look as she quickly slipped past the other girl, running the moment she was out of the room. While she was needed in the kitchen, the maid felt the need to go and clean herself first. Of the shame, of the pain and most of all, of his seed. Thanks to a potion her grandmother had taught her to make, Abigale had successfully avoided getting with child by the master of the house for several years. And no matter how much she was needed in the kitchen, she was going to take care of herself first.

Meanwhile Jane stepped into the room, after having quietly closed the huge wooden door behind her.
She remained standing a few feet away from him, her posture rigid and tense, as she kept looking at the floor.
"Jane Sutton, my lord.", she replied when he asked her about her name. She knew that it didnt really matter much to him and that he would most likely forget it again within the next few days. Men of his position in society had much more pressing matters to occupy their minds after all.

The topic changed to Captain Brownlow's arrival, which was one of the most discussed topics in the servant quarters. Everyone was busy trying to prepare for the man's arrival, especially since news had been sent that he had been wounded during one of the last missions, though nobody knew how badly.
"I am aware of the Captain's visit, mylord, though I do not know whether I will be seeing upon him. I am but a kitchen maid and such tasks are left to the more experienced maids.", she replied honestly. She wouldnt mind being let out of the kitchen once in a while and she had heard nothing but praise for their master's younger brother, who had gone to serve the country in the army.

Jane could feel his eyes on her at all times and she wasnt quite sure what to do with herself.
"My Lord, do you need anything from me? If not, than Mrs Bayton requires more aid in the kitchen..."
It was a feeble excuse to get away, but she knew that she would not be going anywhere without his approval. Suddenly she wondered whether he would ask her to strip again, wishing to compare the young girl he had inspected so many months ago to the young woman she had now become.

As she spoke, as he looked over her young body in all it’s shyness he was inspired. Of course he had seen little of her if she was kept in the kitchen, and while his loins don’t immediately call out for her, no doubt she will be one that any many would wish to be with as she grows more into a woman.He brushed a few crumbs from the bread off of his shirt and while chewing he waved to her to come closer. He took a swallow of the cooling coffee to wash down the last of the bread while listening to her and leaned forward in his chair.

“Ah, yes, Jane Sutton,” he replied congenially. “That would make sense that I seen so little of you, that to be in the kitchen. Please, please, stand here in front of me.” He wave more in order to get her so that she would stand nearly toe to toe with his seated form.

“I shall see that you are freed to work more outside of the kitchen.” He reached down to the lower hem of her skirt and started to lift it upward. He did so almost clinically, like one who is helping a patient present themselves to a doctor. “My good brother, Henry, comes to us needing additional care perhaps. To take nothing away from the other maids, Henry is still a younger lad and would surely prefer those that are not old. I am sure he would enjoy your presence, as a new flower can brighten any room.”

When the skirt was lifted to her waist, he looked up to her, “Hold this for me please? I just wish to verify you are still a maiden.”

When he bid her to come closer, Jane nodded and complied, taking the few steps that had separated them before until she was standing right in front of him. Yet still her eyes remained cast down, not daring to look at her master's face.
She heard him talk about how he wished for her to have a change in duties and Jane noticed that she had mixed feelings about this. After years in the kitchen, she was actually hoping to receive more varying tasks that would allow her to roam the beautiful mansion again, as she had done when she had first become a maid of the household, but on the other hand she also knew that the kitchen was protecting her from what the other girls were experiencing.

Even as Brownlow spoke, his hands moved to the hem of her dress, almost making Jane want to step away, but she knew that doing so would be a grave mistake. One did not challenge or disobey the Lord of the house. That was one of the first rules she had been taught upon her arrival.
All the while he continued to speak casually of his brother and Jane knew that she had to reply, even though there was a knot in her throat.
"I would be honored to wait on your brother, my lord, if that is what you wish.", she finally managed to get out, as he continued to lift her gown higher and higher, exposing the white stockings she wore on her slender legs. They were not of the finest material of course, but they were still of good quality, as all maids were always expected to look impeccable.

"Please, my lord, I swear to you that I am untouched.", she whispered, even though her hands still reached for the material, holding it up as he had asked of her.
"I have never lain with a man, neither in town nor here in the mansion."
She was almost pleading with him, trying to save herself by being utterly honest with him. "I have only ever allowed George, one of your footmen, to steal a kiss from me and it was but once, I promise."
Yet still she could feel his hands on her body, moving into her undergarments and seeking out her womanly flesh between her legs.
Her breath caught in her throat when his fingers still touched her there. She was dry of course, but the way he moved his fingers around soon caused her to shiver slightly. Jane was innocent, but not immune to pleasure, especially when it was so new. And apparently, she was also quite receptive to it, her pussy easily excited as the first drop of moisture covered the lord's finger after barely a few moments.
Jane closed her eyes as she felt him parting her folds, but suddenly she opened them as a yelp escaped her. He had shoved one of his fingers into her not fully lubricated womanhood, the tip of his finger reaching her hymen.
Taking a few quick breaths, Jane tried to get used to the unexpected intruder inside her pussy, for although his finger was not exactly stretching her, she was completely unaccustomed to have anyone or anything within her.
"I swear my lord, I am innocent.", she repeated, what he had already confirmed for himself.

At first, he only intended to check her innocence -- one never can trust a woman to tell the truth on such matters of course -- but her body reacted surprisingly well to his examination. She was, indeed, intact and her opening suggested that she not only intruded inside of her own doing. Yet, in only a few short movements her sex began to prepare itself for what it had never before tasted. With his free hand, he pushed her undergarments over her hips and down to her knees so he could look upon her. While he had seen her bare before, what he was presented with now was a mons equal in beauty as the rest of her. Amusingly surprised by what he was finding, he looked up to her to watch her reactions as he continued his ministrations.

“What a nice young lady you have grown into, Jane,” he spoke with an edge of kindness. “So soft, so sensitive. A fine woman indeed.”

He was no stranger to the female anatomy, and continued to tease her little opening with a finger. Now he began to bend his hand so his thumb could find her small clitorus, and his palm would grind into her mons as well. His free hand slide up her thigh and cupped a round buttock while his fingers teased as the separation between her cheeks. He moved more deliberately on her delicate parts, driving her forward, and closer to her pleasurable climax. Besides putting his hands on a woman who did not ask for such attention, he wasn’t forceful in his actions, only encouraging her body to react the way God had intended it to do so.

Even if his full intention was increase her arousal, he cared little for his own. He enjoyed playing with the girl, but it was not causing his needs to rise again so soon after fulfilling them this morning. Besides, there was meaning for what his intended purposes were to begin with. “I will have you moved to be Henry’s chamber maid, Jane.” He spoke as if this was a business transaction, with more fact than feeling. “You are to be the first he will see in the morning, and the last at night. You shall be a gift I give to him, and if he so chooses so will be your innocence.” He continued to watch her as spoke, hungry to see what reaction she would have.

His fingers on her womanhood were doing strange things to her body. The first thing she felt was the heat rushing through her body, though most of it seemed to be collecting right in her centre. Then came the shivers that made her knees go weak ever so slightly. Her breathing began to grow more raspy and ragged, as she was fighting to keep control over her body.
She didnt know how wet she was for him already, but Jane could feel that her body felt all tingly and deliciously feminine.
It was so hard to keep her composure, as she tried not to show how much he was affecting her.

He even spoke almost casually to her, while his fingers were doing the most delicious things to her, rubbing just the right spots that made her want to sink down onto his hand. He has spoken, so she knew that she had to answer.
"If that is what your lordship wishes then..." The sentence was interrupted by a sweet moan that she was unable to hold in. Instantly she felt embarrassed for having lost control like this. "Pardon me my lord. I didnt meant to I...."
Just then he rubbed her clit again, making her moan again, this time a little louder. She didnt even realize how amusing her sensitivity probably was to him.
"I will tend to Captain Brownlow as you see fit.", she said as quickly as possible to avoid being cut off again, but to her surprise her voice sounded different. It was breathless and tinged with need for something she could not name.

The feeling was starting to get stronger, making her want to moan freely, but she was too scared. "Please my lord...I dont know what you are doing to me... I feel ahhhh so strange.. mmhmm.""
He had begun to pump two of his fingers in and out of her, though never going in deep enough to tear her hymen. It was the sweetest kind of torture and Jane didnt know whether she wanted it to stop instantly or for it to go on forever. Her mind wasnt even in any state to process what she had really agreed to in regard to her master's brother.

His fingers worked with greater and greater speed, careful as always to keep her virginity intact. It was amazing to watch this little lass turn into a moaning whore just by the simple use of his hands. While many times the women that come under his service begin reluctant or even resistant, it is utterly rare to see a girl’s body betray her so heartily. His hand was covered in her honey, the air was filling with her scent, and the walls ricocheted her cries. All of which without even more than a couple of fingers in the poor girl. It was as if the girl who never had a taste for wine now drowns herself in the intoxication of it.

He couldn’t help to feel the pleasure from bringing this girl to a heightened state. The clench of her sex was as intoxicating on his fingers as the brush of her soft downy hair was on his palm. The little nubbin that seemed to ache to be touch jumped with each tap of his thumb. He could feel her body shudder through the firm grip he had on her bottom, but now he was tempted to test the daring of the girl. He slid a finger between the warm cheeks of her bottom, and found the star hidden inside. Pushing slightly he let a digit enter one more of her orifices and watched her steady for a reaction.

“Of course,” he finally spoke, “it is perfectly acceptable to allow any of your suitors to do as I do to you now. I can imagine how happy your George would be if he could finger your quim whilst stealing another kiss. You shouldn’t be so chaste to any poor boy.”

Then he drove on. His hands moving more deliberate, pressing and quickening into her quivering body. As much fun as it was to play with this little girl, he had business to attend to, and he was sure to bring on the climax she was destined to have before getting to it. Now it is just the matter to reach that cliff she so well deserved.

Jane didnt know what was happening to her. Quick and shallow breaths became moans and no matter how much she tried to hold them back, she simply couldnt. Her body was stronger than her mind, not allowing her to think clearly any more. All she could focus on were his fingers on her most intimate part and the delights they were bringing to her.
Was this what he was doing to the other maids? No, it couldnt be. The other girls sounded as if they were in pain and they always looks sad or disgusted after they reappeared from his presence. No, he certainly couldnt be doing the same to them, for this was pure bliss. Jane knew close to nothing about pleasure, but while for the last few years she had been a little afraid of it, she was now almost tempted to change her mind.

Suddenly she felt his finger elsewhere on her body, pushing into another hole that caused her to let out a yelp of discomfort. But the slight pain was quickly mixing with the pleasure he was giving her by rubbing her clit and pushing into her willing pussy, leaving poor Jane confused and overwhelmed. She didnt know which sensation to focus on, so the words he spoke almost completely passed her by.
Instead, the waves of pleasure were starting to get more intense and she could almost feel her legs give in. She wanted to lie down, but she knew that she had to remain standing.
And then, out of nowhere, she cried out, her eyes closed and her pussy spasming and clenching around his fingers.
Just a few moments later it was all over and Jane was left standing breathless and utterly overwhelmed by what had happened.
She looked at Brownlow who removed his hands, his fingers covered in her juices and suddenly Jane had to blush, feeling the shame of having displayed a most wanton side of herself, which she hadnt even known herself.
"I am so sorry...my lord....I...I didnt know what...what came over me...", she tried to apologize between her uneven breathing.

Charles couldn’t help but to chuckle by her words. “My you are an innocent creature, aren’t you,” he laughed. He stuck his fingers into his mouth to taste her ambrosia and found it to be sweet and silken on his tounge. With an appreciative moan, he smacked his lips when pulling the fingers from his mouth and gave her a cheeky smile. He rose to his feet and gave him a caring kiss on her sweaty forehead. “You did well, Jane, you did real well. You taste almost as good as the marmalade.”

He stepped away from her and started to straighten up his clothing that wrinkled in paying attention to the girl. “You may dress yourself, and please return the breakfast tray to the kitchen. I’ll let my man know about your change in duties.”

He moved with purpose to prepare himself, and actually readied himself to leave the chamber before she was ready. At the door he stopped and looked back at the girl. “Because you are so sweet, I will let Henry know of our arrangement in private so that the staff need only hear it from you. I am sure he will welcome mightily to take your virginity, I almost wish I hadn’t promised you to him before I saw how sensitive you were. Just make sure it is still intact to give, lass.”

With a flourish he was gone, leaving her behind in her state. While he hadn’t needed to relieve himself while he was relieving her, the image of the quivering maid and the feel of her on his fingers will need to have the help on call sooner rather than later.

Jane blushed even more when he saw her taste her essence, visibly enjoying it as well. She knew she should be terrified. The Lord had obviously taken an interest in her and she worried that before long, she would be like the other maids. Bent over furniture whenever it pleased him. And while the fear was there, there was also still the shock about this experience. This side of her she had never known about and that honestly intimidated her a little. Jane Sutton was no wanton woman. She was just blooming into womanhood and wanted to be good, honest and obedient.

With shaking hands, she dropped the fabric of her gown and smoothed it out to look decent again. But the tingling and moist sensation between her legs remained. She didnt look at Lord Brownlow as he readied himself for business himself, but instead kept her eyes on the ground.
She heard him speak again of the arrangement with his brother and Jane tensed. He really did intend to give her innocence as a gift to his brother! All the while she had been certain that it was just empty talk, meant to intimidate her. Then again, she should have known he was telling the truth. She was his servant, his property. In a way, he owned her entire life, considering she had nowhere else to go, so she was his to do with as he pleased. Even if it meant giving her away to his brother.
"As you wish, my lord.", she spoke, glad to hear her voice fining a more normal tone again. She moved to the tray, arranging everything on it in order to carry it back to the kitchen. "It will be as you desire....Have a good day, my lord"

Back in the kitchen she was instantly bombarded with questions. She had been gone for so long that the staff had worried that perhaps their Master's appetite was bigger than expected this morning and that he had taken two girls instead of just one.
"He didnt do anything, I swear.", Jane argued, hating herself for being a liar. But she couldnt tell them about what he had done to her. Because then she would have to admit to the shame of being wanton. It had scared and intimidated her, but she could not deny that she had also felt pleasure. "He just wished to talk to me about Captain Brownlow's arrival. He wondered if I would like to be his maid."
The staff exchanged confused looks. There were plenty of maids in the house trained to take care of guests, while Jane was just a kitchen girl.

"Still, better than having her be his lordship's maid. Captain Brownlow is a good natured man. Brave, honorable and kind from what I remember.", Mr. Turnshaw said. The man was the oldest staff member in the house, having already served the previous Lord Brownlow as his personal valet. Now he was head of the serving staff, responsible for their organization and good behaviour.
"You know Captain Brownlow?", Jane asked curiously. "Is there anything I need to know about?", she continued a little hesitantly, earning a soft smile from the older man.
"You do not need to fear him suddenly bending you over a table, if that is what you worry about. I have seen both masters grow up and Captain Brownlow has always been the more virtuous one of the two. But we do not know how war has changed him. We dont know what he has seen and experienced."

A few days passed and Jane didnt come across Lord Brownlow again, once more spending most of her time in the kitchen. Their last meeting however, was still vivid in her mind. Now, after the pleasure had faded however, she mostly felt intimidated and ashamed.
On the day of the Captain's arrival, the staff was lined outside the main entrance to welcome him. Jane stood at the very top next to Lord Brownlow, so that she could be introduced as his personal servant immediately.
All eyes were on the carriage as it pulled up to the manor, wondering about the Captain's state. He obviously wasnt well enough to ride on horseback.
The man who emerged looked tired and drained, but there was a happiness about his smile that showed that he was glad to be home.
His left leg was bandaged, either broken or recovering from a serious injury, and he walked on wooden crutches, though he did so with confidence and ease.

Jane silently compared the two brothers and could see the striking similarities between the two. But as the Captain approached, she noticed the differences as well. His eyes were so much warmer and the smile he was sending his brother was honest and kind. All servants bowed and curtsied accordingly as he walked past them until he reached his brother. Jane too bowed her head as he stood close to her, though she guessed that all his attention was on Lord Brownlow, the family member he hadnt seen in so long.

“Is it much how ye remember home being, Captain?”

Henry jumped a little, turning to his former second in command. He was drifting somewhat in and out of consciousness, tired from a long and relatively painful journey. Yet now he was moving through to the barony of his youth, his waking vision was like a dream. “Oh, uh .. indeed, John,” he fumbled as he tried to shake himself into clarity. “A familiarity of sorts, if not as in my memories.”

His man was staring back at Henry and smiled in returned. “Much has changed then?”

Henry gave the man a smirk. He playfully pointed at the man. “Don’t think I can’t tell what you be doing, Lad,” Henry chided with a laugh. “I am awake enough to meet my brother when we arrive.”

Raising his hands up in defense, John replied, “Do ye not want me to make sure you be at your best, Captain? Besides, you owe me. Bring me out to the country like I be your servant man without even a word of what it be like.”

Thinking on that Henry couldn’t help but to agree with John’s contention. John was slightly older than Henry, slightly smaller as well, and had a thick dark beard to match his dark hair upon his head. Unlike Henry, he had gained his position in the army through promotion and being the right hand to those destined to move up the ranks as well. John was the best lieutenant under Henry’s command, and while it felt strange to call on him as his valet there was none he trusted more. So when the John accepted without knowing the place he would call home, Henry felt obligated to tell him much of the barony and the grand house awaiting their return. “Let’s be fair, Mr. Oxley. We spent many a night talking of my home, and you did choose this service.”

“Aye Aye,” he laughed, “but to be fair, Captain, I still ask if it be as you remember.”

Henry crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. He took in the concept now of the great transition. They both wore their dress uniforms, as the custom to return home from battle, but it was bittersweet as it was the last either would wear the uniform. When they arrived and changed, they would no longer be soldiers, but civilians, and Henry would be back where he spent the whole of his childhood. He took a deep breath, once more smelling the fresh air of the ripening barley fields, and listening to the light rustle of leaves from the orchard. They still hadn’t yet turned up the road to the main house, but he knew so much of the place passing by the window already. “I will find out soon enough,” Henry replied reluctantly. “To be honest, I left for the army when the only thing that made me a man was my belief I knew all that any man needed to know. Most of this land, I explored whilst running with all the hope of a boy. I couldn’t be kept in the house as a boy, so there not be a place on this land I hadn’t set foot on.”

“A paradise for a boy, it is,” John agreed.

The vision of running amongst the woods warmed his heart, but it took no time for him to remember what has changed. “Indeed, but, I am no longer a boy. Somethings have changed.” He slid his hand down to his leg as he spoke, only to remind his man about the injury. During the battle that wounded him, Henry’s men fought bravely, advanced with courage and honor, the whole of them were destined for glory of winning day for Britain. It was the most freedom given to Captain Brownlow to guide his battalion onto the battlefield, and he showed his strategic skill and quick decision making that suggested a career with a great future. Then the musket ball slashed through his thigh, falling him off his horse and ripping much of the flesh along the way. If not for the officer’s surgeons at the ready he would have lost his leg, yet the wound was bad enough that he was interned for weeks. As for the men, they continued to fight after he had fallen and won the high ground in his honor. John returned to tell the story to Henry while recovering. Alas, it was the last battle he would face. While he would walk again, Henry could not be sure to be stable on horseback and was given relief of his command.

After giving a long breath, his new valet replied, “I’m sure ye be back to no different than when ye left the place, Captain. Back in no time, sure.”

--

As expected, Charles made a spectacle for his arrival. Not just to be waiting for his younger brother’s carriage but had lined up the whole of the house, it seemed, to greet him. When the carriage came to a stop, Charles came down the last few steps calling forth for his brother. “Come now, the military hero back to the land of his forefathers.”

Henry pushed the door open to the carriage but waited for John to come around with his crutches. “So you meet your long lost brother not just with pomp but with hot air I see,” he teased with a wide smile. “One moment, Baron Brownlow and I will greet you face to face.” Awkwardly, Henry extracted himself from the carriage and took to the crutches. It was not easy, and that was clear to all the onlookers. Still, Henry was more honorable than proud, and the wound from courage need not be hidden.

Charles, though, could not hide his concern. He took his brother’s hand and shook it in greeting but leaned in to talk lower so as the help behind him could not hear. “Your letter said you could walk, Henry,” he stated as he observed the condition.

“Oh, yes,” he returned struggling some on the crutches. “The strain of travels, the doctor said. It inflamed the wound. So he ordered me back to these bloody things until it recovers. But, then, I doubt I will walk again without the help of a cane.”

“Or run, ye lordship,” John spoke up with a laugh.

Charles snapped his head towards the man who seemed to speak out of turn.

Henry caught on right away and stood taller ready, and responded more formally. “Lord Brownlow, may I present my valet, confidant, and good friend, Mr. John Oxley. While I know this not be how you would traditionally deal with one’s help, Mr. Oxley is a retired lieutenant of the army in good standing and deserves to be quartered as such. But then again, I don’t consider him to be a servant, he is my right hand.”

Charles paused, considered the requestor as much as the request itself, and nodded in agreement. “Welcome to the Brownlow Estate, Mr. Oxley. I shall ensure you shall be taken care of as long as you are in service to my brother.”

“Aye,” John said bowing slightly and acting more like one should to nobility. “My apologies for me manor, as much as I look forward to working for ye brother, one takes time to grow from their upbringing, sure.”

“And for you Henry, come to meet the help,” Charles stated as if ignoring John’s words. They turned and moved to the bowing staff awaiting them.

Of course, Charles had to move slow for his brother on the crutches, but it maybe the first that would be the case since their youth. While older by a couple years, Henry grew quicker and was known for his strenght and speed around the estate. When they played, Henry many times beat his older brother at friendly games, sometimes to Charles’s anger. Yet that was the way, Charles was being groomed for nobility, and Henry for service. Yet now that they were both older, they turned to surprisingly similar men. Both carried broad shoulders, dark hair, handsome keen faces, and while taller it was still a height proportional to their size. Where they differed was only slight. Charles face already showed lines of age one might not notice without his brother by his side, and his hair started towards grey as well. While their builds looked similar on the warm day, Henry’s uniform was likely thicker, suggesting a leaner, stronger body underneath.

Going through much of the receiving line, Henry was pressed to remember names of new members. Those he remembered, were easy, as when he was a boy he was more fond of them than his own parents. He even stopped to slap his arms around the old maid Virginia who used to chase him around when he ran about naked from his bath times. Quickly he was returning to the thoughts of the good times, and the happiness this place kept in his heart.

“And this is Jane Sutton,” Charles announced when he reached the last. “As long as you wish, she will be the maid of your chambers, Henry, ensuring your services are met. I thought until you are more comfortable here and able to move about more freely, that one could attend to you directly. That is, beyond what your valet could do.”

Henry was about to object, it is what he hired John to perform of course, and what he didn’t want John to perform Henry wanted to do himself. He was from the Army, of course, and knew how to make his own bed and dress himself. He didn’t want to be pampered like a child.

The girl became the reason to pause. She was, for a maid, quite beautiful. Her hair appeared soft in it’s brown sandy braid. She appeared timid, nervous, more so then the remaining staff, but in a way that was utterly fetching. When her eyes moved, he spotted the tint of green that suggested they were quite amazing. The chance to see more of this girl, or even to suggest to get to know who she was, was enough to stop his objections.

“Well met, Jane Sutton,” Henry stated with a nod of the head that almost suggested a bow. “If it is not so much to ask, may I speak with you, lass, before the day is over. I … should go over what I would need for bandages and such.” He almost felt like a schoolboy once more, asking a pretty girl to walk with him for the first time. “Or …” he flustered, remembering his place, “you could speak with valet, if you feel more comfortable.”

He looked to his brother and felt a stare coming from, but it seemed more like the Lord was smirking. Sheepishly Henry tried to change the subject and ask to return to his room. It was an abrupt ending to the arrival. He had felt something spark under his demeanor for this glimpse of a maid, and since that is something unheard of in his past he wasn’t sure what is proper. Besides he only met the girl. Sure, Henry knew of women, but he was a soldier first and the difference between one’s duty to the army and whatever makes a man feel passion is the difference between knowing what to do and not understanding a damn thing.

Even when Henry addressed her, did Jane keep her eyes fixed on the ground, even thought she really wanted to take a closer look at the man she would be serving. In and out of his bed, according to his lordship. But Jane was well trained and knew her place, thus was able to upkeep the right demeanor, even when her curiosity was trying to convince her otherwise.
"I am at your service, Captain Brownlow. If you prefer to speak personally with me, then you may do so.", she answered, surprised to find that her voice wasnt trembling as she had feared it would. "I shall come to your chamber after lunch has been served."

That short exchanged marked the end of the grand return of the Captain and the staff returned to their duties around the large estate. And while Jane had been assigned as Henry's personal maid, she first returned to the kitchen to help with the preparations for lunch. Charles had ordered his staff to prepare only the best and it was a stressful time for everyone down in the kitchens. The expectations were high, even though Mrs Bayton kept arguing that his Lordship had requested far too much food for only two people. Then again, the head of the kitchen always found something to grumble about, even though she was a kind and even funny woman.
The work in the kitchen distracted Jane for quite a while and only when the meal was over and the footmen were bringing the empty plates back down, did she realize that she would have to go and face Captain Brownlow.
She excused herself from the kitchen and hurried back to her chambers, where she exchanged her apron and dress for a fresh pair. Facing Lord Brownlow's brother in dirty clothes simply would not do.

She moved to his chamber and took a deep breath before knocking. Upon hearing the permission to enter, she opened the door and curtsied as was proper, before stepping into the room.
She expected Mr Oxley to be present as well, but she found herself alone with the Captain.
"I hope the meal was to your satisfaction, Captain Brownlow.", she spoke up pleasantly. "Mrs Bayton said she cooked everything she remembered as your favourite meals."
Jane didnt know how to talk to a war hero or to the person she was supposed to be serving. That was the difference between her and the other maids, who had been trained properly on how to act when in the presence of his lordship. Down in the kitchen, Jane had never learned these lessons.
Still, realizing that perhaps she was being far too informal, she changed the course of the conversation.
"You said you wished to speak with me in regards to what you will need from me."

Talking about her duties was probably the right thing to do. And even though she wasnt as prepared as Abigale, she wanted to proof to everyone that she could do this task. At least part of it.
"I know a little about tending wounds.", she spoke up. "When I still lived at home, one of my younger brothers once injured his arm after falling off the roof. God only knows what he was doing up there. But I was the one to take care of him and to change his bandages. So while I may not be a nurse, you can trust me to at least do this much properly."
She tried a little smile, though he probably didnt see much from it, seeing as Jane still kept her head lowered.

When he suddenly asked her to change his bandages, she finally looked up to nod. At first she thought that perhaps he wished to test her skills after her last comment, but then she realized that a change of bandages after such a long journey made sense.
She found bandages and everything else she needed in a still unpacked trunk close to his nightstand and then went to fetch some water.
By the time she returned, she found the Captain sitting on a chair, his leg propped up on another one.
For one second Jane hesitated, trying to recall everything the doctor had told her back then in regard to her brother. A moment later she went to work, focused completely on her task. She was not appalled by the wound as she cleaned it and her hands were gentle, but secure in what they were doing as she applied new bandages, making sure they were tight enough.
She didnt speak a word during the process, but tried to stay as concentrated as possible to avoid mistakes and thus possible humiliation.
Once she was finished and began cleaning up, she was tempted to ask how he had received such a serious injury, but bit her tongue.
Instead she asked: "Is there anything else I can do, Captain Brownlow?"
Perhaps it was wrong to think that, but Jane was almost glad that the man was wounded. Perhaps that way, he would not be able to demand the favours the Lord of the house demanded from his staff.

"Is there anything else I can do, Captain Brownlow?"

It was a simple question, but Henry struggled to isolate anything in his mind anymore. He sat on a chair in his chambers alone with this magnificent creature. She was careful and gentle as she changed the bandage. Her fingers were a mix of the dainty girl and one that knows manual labor well. She watched her own work like one knowledgeable but new to what she was doing.

She was there as a simple misunderstanding. He meant to say that it was only the bandages that needed to be replaced in his trunk, not on his actual leg. Next thing he knew she was preparing for the work at hand. It was not what he intended, and he wasn’t sure what to say to the girl. Not after lunch with his brother.

Charles spoke about the girl, not at all noting her ability to be a maid. Charles noted her obedience, her sensitivity, and most of all her availability to him. Although one doesn’t speak like they used to in the army, Henry almost felt the girl’s duties were more of the flesh than of caretaker. Surely that couldn’t have been what he meant. Surely some in the house were more sinful than others, and Henry was sure some of the help would offer as such to the nobility. Goodness, Henry practically added that as a benefit to Mr. Oxley.

Surely not Jane Sutton though.

Yet as the bandage was under his trousers, Henry had to remove them. He kept his shirt pulled down so not to suggest exposing himself to the maid. Still, her hands touched him near his most private areas and it reminded him of the touches of women who he had been with. Only when she pulled back the last of the old bandage to show the grotesque scar still healing underneath did what felt like a growing desire wane. Of course, it is better now than when first wounded, but where the surgeon stitching remained was still quite red, and one would surely notice the missing muscle where the bullet tore flesh.

She didn’t seem to react to him though. She went to her business. She did so without speaking a word. Now that she was done, her simple question hung like many unanswered questions since his return. Was there anything else she could do, indeed there was if his brother was right, but that was surely not what she meant by it. Or at least, it wasn’t what Henry hoped she had meant.

As he sat in the chair, his trousers still removed, his fresh bandage, and his eyes looking towards that soft, yet beautiful face there was only one thing he could think of saying - and it was just a question in return.

“Why do you keep your eyes from mine, Jane?” He asked it in a voice that almost felt like it pleaded to know the answer. Maybe it did, but it was what he wanted at that moment.

Jane had expected some sort of command or request from him. Like for her to fetch him some water for the night or to call Mr Oxley. But instead he surprised her with that question of his. To her the answer was so obvious that she was rather taken aback that someone needed to ask the question.
"Well, because I am a maid and you are a master of this house.", she replied, her tone showing how this was utterly normal to her. Still, her curiosity drove her onward to say more. "Why do you ask, Captain Brownlow? Would you like me to look at you directly?" She was there to serve him, as Lord Brownlow had requested and if it was his desire to have her look at him, then she would.

When the answer came, she raised her head, her green orbs moving to meet his gaze. There was uncertainty in them, maybe even a spark of fear, but there was also kindness and the innocence of her young age.
The experience of looking someone she was serving in the eye was a little strange to Jane, but this gave her the opportunity to study the man in front of her much better.
He had the same hair color as his brother, as well as a similar face. But his showed fatigue and hardships. It was the face of someone who had seen war and had endured hard work. The most fascinating feature were his eyes however. Lord Brownlow's eyes always held a certain coldness and authority, as well as a degree of dangerous mischief. His brother's eyes however were very different, despite having the same color. Jane stared and stared, always finding something new in them. There was curiosity as he looked at her, but then there was also delight, as well as amusement. It translated into his lips as he smiled at her and suddenly Jane felt very self conscious, her hand instantly moving to smooth out any possible wrinkles in her dress. "Am I funny to you, Captain?", she asked, unable to hold the question in.

What a silly thing to ask really. It wasnt the first time a man had smiled at her after all. George gave her such smiles all the time, everyone always assured her, and a few times she had even caught him. But it wasnt at all the same to receive such attentions, however small, from a fellow servant than from her master's brother.
"Is there something wrong with my braid? Is it not orderly?"
Of course, everything was perfect as always. Jane looked as pretty as ever, but she couldnt see herself through his eyes. She didnt even really know what kind of effect she was having on men. George had told her that her beauty could drive a man crazy before he had kissed her, but she had not taken him seriously back then, thinking them empty words all gentlemen used to charm a lady into giving up a kiss.

At first, he felt the need to speak long to her, but he could only answer her at first saying “look where you wish, Jane Sutton. Directly or not.”

For a moment, their eyes lingered on each other. He had hoped to only feel like she was as beautiful when gazing at him as when not, but to look back at those soft pools made him lose himself in her warmth. It made him smile, which seemed to make her smile, which made him laugh lightly.

“No no,” he replied. “You are not funny. Maybe amusing is all.”

He looked away quickly and realized the conversation was beginning while he still had his trousers down. Grabbing them quickly, he dragged them up over his bandages and hooked it in place. Remaining in his seat, he continued now seemingly avoiding contact his own eyes. He did a poor job of it, though, as he kept turning back to how she was trying to manage her hair.

“It has been many years since I have lived here, and then it was my father who was baron. I know not on how he runs his household, but I feel if you are in my presence you should feel free to do as you pleased.” He spun on the chair and reached for a wooden cane nearby to help himself to his feet. With a bit of a grunt he rose and continued. “That is, you can ask Mr. Oxley, I would rather enjoy the company of those I am with, and only hope for that in return. Is that so funny to ask?”

Finally up, he tucked his shirt into his pants and stood erect and dressed. “And I am sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you with having you deal with a half dressed man on your first day with him. Surely you must think me rude.”

Everything about this man was puzzling Jane. He was so unlike what she was used to, but perhaps she was still comparing him to his brother at all times. It was like having the sun and the moon standing next to each other, wondering why they werent alike.

"I...I will try, Captain Brownlow. To be a little more open and relaxed in your presence.", she said, feeling strange even uttering those words. She had practically grown up in the manor, the proper behaviour of a maid drilled into her since childhood. Of course, she was different among the staff down in the kitchen, where she would laugh openly and even engage in jokes or gossip. But could she really be so free in front of the Captain? Were his words perhaps only said out of kindness? She would have to find out.

She stood and watched him, but whenever she was ready to jump into action, he already finished the task himself, such as reaching for his cane and rearranging his clothes. This man was self-sufficient and clearly didnt really need anyone to pamper over him for everything.
Suddenly he spoke again and Jane had to blink a few times for her head to fully accept what it had just heart. Had this man apologized to her? And for something that was not his fault?
It took her a moment to find the right words to say and for a moment she was tempted to just shake her head, say it was alright and leave it at that, but in the end she decided to follow his request and be a little more open.
"There is no need to apologize, Captain. Your state of undress was not due to...more improper reasons. It was necessary so that I could change the bandages, so I will not hold it against you. And you certainly are not rude. I may only just have met you, but you are one of the kindest men I have met."
After the last words were spoken, she did suddenly look away. Had she perhaps been too open and honest? Had her last statement been too forward? But she had only spoken the truth and wasnt that what he had wanted.

Her eyes were now set on the fireplace in the room, above which a series of photographs was arranged. The one in the middle showed both brothers as young men, most likely taken before Henry had left to war. As she saw the Lord of the house, Jane trembled a little and her hands grasped the fabric of her apron.
"Did...Did Lord Brownlow say anything about me to you, Captain?", she asked out of nowhere, her voice betraying the insecurity she felt. She just had to know what exactly Lord Brownlow had told his brother. Had he been subtle about her role? Or had he downright offered her as a gift to him?

It seemed that she lightened up when he brought attention to her demeaner. She seemed to ease some, and it suggested to him that it was more of who she was. That’s all he really wanted, wasn’t it? For her to be comfortable around him? But then she said something took him aback.

“... but you are one of the kindest men I have met …”

Her reaction was to turn away, as if she didn’t mean the words. Not that they weren’t in truth, that they shouldn’t have been said. Then again, ‘shouldn’t’ isn’t the word either.

It made him self conscious. More than when he sat in his britches while the girl bandaged him. He looked away from her, trying to hide a slight blush on his cheek, until he found himself staring the same direction as the maid towards a portrait of him when he was younger. He shuffled over to a table and brushed some random dust off of it.

"Did...Did Lord Brownlow say anything about me to you, Captain?"

He turned quickly to her, and the question hung between them like a fog during a grey evening in autumn. Surely, Charles didn’t mean sinful duties were included in his ask for her; that is how he took it before. The way she asks now, and acts now, he began to worry his brother did in fact mean such a thing. Surely not with Jane Sutton, he thought once more. But Henry could not lie to her.

“He did, Jane Sutton,” Henry responded. “He spoke that you would be available to …” Realizing that suggesting she was available would be misconstrued he stopped and rethought his words. “That is, he said you were maid to this room. He must know you well. He said you were quite sensitive, which I can tell by your kind nature and want to wrap my bandage with skill.”

He turned away from her and felt his face warm some, remembering the feel of her fingers on his skin. “He also mentioned that you were obedient as well, but that matters little to me. I would never ask you to do what you do not agree to do, Jane Sutton.” The last line he spoke, it stood as a concern, that if his brother did mean ill expectations of the girl that she should not have such a fear.

He was choosing his words carefully, she realized, as if he was scared of saying something wrong, something that could possibly upset her. When he mentioned her sensitivity, her entire body tensed for a moment. In her head she panicked that Lord Brownlow had given away more details than were necessary, but the end of the sentence, utterly unrelated to any scandalous actions, put Jane back at ease.

And what he said next, lifted a heavy weight off her shoulders. Suddenly she appeared younger, more at ease and held herself much more graceful. He wouldnt expect anything of her, woulnt command her to strip for him and he would not compromise her. "Thank you, Captain Brownlow.", she said, the relief thick in her voice.
"You really are most kind. And my mother always taught me that kindness will get you much farther than stubbornness and demands ever will.", she said, still staring at the picture of the two young gentlemen, before turning to face him. Now she felt that she could, without any awkward feelings and she even managed an honest smile for him. It was a smile that brightened up her face, making her look far prettier than she was when she carried out the neutral maid expression.

"I know that the task should probably go to Mr Oxley, but since I am here and he is most likely getting his own room ready, I could help you in picking out a suit for tonight's dinner.", she suddenly spoke. "Lord Brownlow invited a few of the nearby Lord and Ladies to celebrate your return. A little private affair."
Not that Jane personally would count 30 guests as a little affair, but she knew of the lavish balls that had been held in the manor before, where counting the people had been impossible for her.
"Will you attend in your uniform, or shall I find something else."
It depended entirely on whether he wanted to be recognized and celebrated as the glorious hero, who had returned from the battlefield, or whether he just wanted to blend in.
Even while he was still thinking, Mary began to unpack the trunks the servants had brought in, deciding that she would approach Mr Oxley later to tell him how the room had been arranged. It surprised her how few belongings the Captain had brought back, but then again, he probably didnt need an entire array of suits and riding outfits on a battlefield.

“Something else, tonight,” he responded as he hobbled some over to the window cracking it open to get some air and look out onto the garden. “Mr. Oxley and I made an agreement that if we were to be retired from the Army, we shall look the part. And in that case, it would better for you to choose something for me. You would surely know more about these people he has invited, I trust. A woman’s eye is far better when it comes to that of what to wear.”

The open garden was dominated by the grand lawn, a emerald gem of the estate that brought back old memories of playing cricket or practicing archery as a boy. He could smell the grass as the warm air wafted it towards the house. The surrounding flower beds were blooming elegantly adding to the fragrance of the manor.

He turned to the girl as she worked and couldn’t help to watch her as she went about her business. The braid down her back was meticulous and well kept, a strange comparison to when she worried about it’s status earlier in their conversation. Her face seemed soft, kind, and girlish; but also bright and happy. Henry even found himself reviewing her body as she went to and thro from the trunks to the wardrobe. She was smaller, but through the light maid’s dress she still had shape and curves one would want from a woman.

He felt he wanted to know more about this girl, to know of her more, if for only to keep her able to continue to talk to him.

“You mentioned your mother, she work for the Baron as well? Or do I know any other of your family that work for my brother?”