Back in Service (18 page)

Jane turned towards the house without pulling her hand away, her lovely face beaming in the moonlight. ‘Oh Hetty, you were so brave. I shall never forget how you helped me.’

‘I could not do as much as I would have liked, Jane, for we were outnumbered. Only a real man could have stood up to Sir Victor and all those so-called men. They are lechers and rogues who care only for the satisfaction of their own vulgar appetites.’

‘We could have done with a man like your brother,’ Jane remarked shyly. ‘I could tell the moment I set eyes on him that he was a brave and upright gentleman. He would have shamed Sir Victor into letting us go unharmed, I am sure of it. What a pity he is no longer here.’

Hetty, gazing at the naked admiration on Jane’s face, was suddenly determined to appear before her again dressed as George in his fine new apparel, and the idea excited her so much she could hardly speak, but she knew she must prepare the way. ‘George will be returning soon, Jane. He… he is visiting relatives further north, but has promised to come back to Longton in a few days. If you wish, you could meet him again.’

‘Oh, how I should love that!’

Hetty smiled. ‘I am sure he will be equally pleased.’ They entered the house by the side door. ‘How are you feeling now, my dear?’ she asked as they stood at the foot of the stairs.

‘All the better for having whipped that dreadful woman.’

‘Yes, indeed, but I meant how is your poor body? If you are still sore and smarting, I can give you some more comfrey cream.’

‘I – I should like that, Miss Hetty.’

Instinctively, she knew Jane wanted her to apply the ointment like the last time. Her heart raced keenly at the thought of performing such an intimate service for the girl, and when she offered to do so, Jane’s eyes lit up.

‘Oh, would you? I should much prefer it if you did. It is easier to relax and forget one’s pain when someone else ministers to your needs.’

They crept up to the landing, walking silently past Lady Alice’s door to Hetty’s apartments. Leo would be deeply asleep by now, so it was safe to take Jane into their sitting room, where a chaise lounge would provide an adequate bed. She threw a cloth over the fine velvet so the cream would not spoil it, and then bade the girl remove her nether garments and lie facedown while she fetched the cream from the bedroom.

In the darkened room Leo lay dead to the world, so it was an easy matter to open the drawer of the bedside table and remove the pot of cream. When she returned to the sitting room, Jane’s beautiful buttocks were fully exposed and shining like marble caressed by a finger of moonlight reaching in through the window.

‘Beautiful,’ Hetty breathed. ‘Your bottom is like alabaster, dear Jane. I am reminded of some exquisite statuettes I saw in the Louvre museum in Paris.’

‘Oh miss, you are so worldly-wise,’ she sighed. ‘It must be wonderful to have lived in a foreign country. You must tell me all about it sometime.’

‘That I will.’ Hetty smiled, storing up the promise in her soul with a sense of anticipation. For now, however, the pleasure was keen and immediate as she smoothed the cream into Jane’s delicate skin. Her buttocks were deliciously firm and smooth to the touch, and as she rhythmically applied the herb-scented salve, the girl gave a long and voluptuous sigh.

‘Oh Hetty… it is almost worth enduring the pain of a whipping to feel your tender fingers upon my flesh afterwards.’

Emboldened, she parted Jane’s twin mounds to peer into the dark chasm between them and catch a glimpse of the little puckered hole of her anus. She was curious about the girl’s anatomy, so similar to her own and yet, when viewed from an external angle, so alien. Below the cleft of her bottom lay the pink folds of her sex, glistening slightly in the moonlight. A knot of desire formed deep within her gazing at the sweetly pouting pudenda, and her pulse began racing in earnest as she let her fingers gently probe the soft nether lips. Jane moaned even as her thighs drew together in a seemingly involuntary gesture, and Hetty guessed she had gone too far, so she returned to smoothing her fingers over the taut globes of her bottom as she sensed Jane relaxing beneath her caresses again. ‘There, I think that will do,’ she announced reluctantly.

Jane rolled over onto her back, fiddling with the buttons of her blouse. She manoeuvred herself out of it without sitting up, and then opened her camisole, revealing her gorgeous bosom. ‘Please, Hetty,’ her rosy nipples stood instantly to attention, exposed to the room’s cool air, ‘will you also rub some into my breasts?’ she asked sweetly. ‘They are so chafed from the harness.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Her voice almost caught in her throat as her suppressed desire nearly got the better of her. She plunged her fingers into the pot and produced two good dollops of cream.

Jane held her breasts in her hands, and Hetty began smearing the cream in circular motions around the stiff nipples. The girl closed her eyes, an innocent expression of ecstasy on her virginal face. Warming to her task, Hetty rubbed the nipples themselves as well, relishing their hard and yet yielding texture beneath her fingertips. With a sharp intake of breath Jane threw back her head, sighing, and Hetty longed to take her in her arms to kiss and caress her. But then she recalled her promise. It was George who must win that privilege, George who must seduce this lovely creature and claim her as his own. Jane would never countenance such behaviour from another girl, of that Hetty was quite certain. ‘There, you are done,’ she said, almost brusquely. ‘I hope you will feel better in the morning.’

Jane opened her eyes slowly, and Hetty almost lost control when she saw the blatant desire smouldering in them. She rose quickly, to avoid temptation, and then made much of screwing the top back on the jar.

‘Thank you, Hetty,’ Jane whispered, readjusting her clothing. Then she rose reluctantly from the lounge and planted a tender kiss on Hetty’s cheek, a kiss so sweet it left Hetty feeling both aroused and bereft.

Three days passed before Hetty could consider dressing up as George again, and during that time Sir Victor was conspicuous by his absence at the dinner table. It was given out by Nanny Baines that he had caught a chill and was confined to his bed, but Hetty guessed the truth was he could not face her or Jane and so was keeping out of their way. She was not sorry. It would have been tedious to respect the social niceties in her dealings with him, and yet she did not feel she could tell Leo about what had happened in the summerhouse.

The fact was she did not believe she could trust her husband to remain silent, and a confrontation between father and son was the last thing she wanted. Apart from the horrors of the night when she and Jane were harnessed to Sir Victor’s wheelchair like ponies, she had found a kind of peace at Longton Hall. If she were honest, she had to admit Jane was largely responsible for her newfound sense of ease and pleasure. It was a long time since she had felt such closeness with another girl, and the prospect of being with her while disguised as George was particularly exciting.

In her male persona, Hetty seemed to have the power to inspire confidence and intimacy. It worked well with Leo – she fancied they would never have married had it not been for George’s good offices – and she was intrigued by the prospect of approaching Jane in the same fashion. When she was dressed as a man, she suspected the girl would grow as fond of her and desirous of her company as Leo had. She imagined Jane would confess her deepest secrets to George and admit her most cherished desires, and she could hardly wait to hear them.

Her chance to transform into her handsome brother came when Leo and Lady Alice had to go away to York on some business to do with the estate of a distant relative. They planned to stay overnight and, with Sir Victor still allegedly confined to his sickbed, Hetty judged the coast was clear. She pondered long and hard over the best location and circumstances for the meeting between Jane and George, realising it would seem odd if she did not also attend as Hetty, which would be impossible. She had to contrive a chance meeting between them in a place where the other servants seldom ventured. Yet to have a young man conversing freely with a young woman without a chaperone was unthinkable.

The problem vexed her, but in the end she decided Jane could be sent to work in the summerhouse, supposedly on orders from Nanny Baines. Hetty would deliver the order sympathetically, recognising there would be many ghosts for Jane to exorcise. She would say she was unable to accompany her to the summerhouse due to some other pressing business, and as Jane set to work cleaning and tidying that den of inequity, George would suddenly appear as if by accident while on a country walk. The rest would have to be played by ear.

Lady Alice and her son left early in the day for York, and all morning Hetty was in a frenzy of anticipation, playing and replaying in her mind the scene she intended to contrive in the summerhouse. She delivered the supposed message from Nanny Baines to Jane at three o’clock, and then watched with satisfaction as the girl crossed the wide expanse of grass towards the summerhouse carrying her cleaning materials. As soon as she disappeared inside, Hetty went to change into her male attire.

She took special care over her appearance and made free with Leo’s
Eau de Portugal
, which gave her a seductive, citrus-like aroma. By the time she came to fix the handsome brown wig securely on her head, the illusion was complete. Staring at herself in the long mirror, Hetty thought she cut a fine figure of a man and almost fell in love with herself. Surely Jane would be equally smitten.

It was a fine afternoon, which would give credence to her story that George was out for a stroll and simply chanced to step into the summerhouse. As she meandered towards the building, she felt a warm glow of anticipation. The prospect of making love to Jane, of tenderly kissing and caressing her, filled her with joy.

Once she reached the door she heard sweeping sounds coming from within. She coughed loudly, and opened the door a fraction. Jane looked around, startled, a slight shadow of apprehension darkening her lovely face, but when she saw who it was her whole body visibly relaxed and a shy smile touched her lips. ‘Oh… Master George… good afternoon, sir.’

‘It
is
a very good afternoon, indeed,’ Hetty replied in her deepest voice. ‘Do you mind if I come in for a moment, Miss Jane? I can see you are busy.’

‘Oh no sir, do come in, I would love to take a short rest.’

‘My sister has gone into the village, and with Leo and Lady Alice away as well, I am at a loose end, so to speak. I have walked all around the estate and am ready to sit down. Is that sofa clean?’

At once Jane fussed around with her feather duster and plumped up the cushions. ‘There, sir,’ she declared with pride. ‘You may sit yourself down now.’

‘Only if you will sit beside me, Miss Jane.’

‘Oh sir, it would not be proper. If Nanny Baines caught me in here with a young man…’

‘Then she would be envious, no doubt.’

Jane giggled.

‘Come, my dear.’ George patted the sofa beside her right thigh. ‘You can trust me. I know in what high esteem Hetty holds you, and I would do nothing to harm your reputation.’

Eagerly Jane took her place beside George, and Hetty had to quash an urge to place her arm around the girl’s shoulders. Telling herself she had all afternoon, she began leading the conversation in the direction she had planned. ‘Tell me, Jane, do you have a sweetheart?’

She blushed becomingly. ‘Oh no, sir…’

‘What? Never?’

‘No, sir, no man has ever made so bold.’

‘I can hardly believe that.’ Hetty adopted an expression of exaggerated amazement. ‘There must be many young men at Longton and hereabouts who are secretly in love with you, Jane. Roger, the stable lad, for instance?’

‘No sir, I would never encourage him. They say he flirts with village girls and…’ She blushed again beautifully.

‘And?’

‘I will not repeat idle gossip,’ she said primly.

‘Perhaps you aim higher than a mere stable boy? Indeed, you deserve a man of more refinement. Someone more like myself, perhaps?’ Hetty rested her arm casually along the back of the sofa. ‘I have often dreamed of finding the perfect woman,’ he went on dreamily, ‘someone pretty but modest, like Wordsworth’s Lucy, “
a maid whom there were none to praise, and very few to love
”.’

‘Oh, Master George, do you love that poem? I
adore
it, and
all
of Mr Wordsworth’s works. I have an old book your dear sister gave me, and I read a poem every night by candlelight before I go to sleep. I am sure it brings me sweet dreams.’

‘Tell me, what does a girl as sweet as you dream of, Jane?’

She looked embarrassed. ‘All kinds of things.’

Hetty decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘Of a chance encounter with a young admirer in a summerhouse, perhaps?’

‘You are teasing me, George,’ she protested breathlessly.

Hetty was pleased to note she dropped the ‘master’. They were getting on more intimate terms and she must be careful not to spoil things. Rising from the sofa, she stretched her arms over her head and then looked around. ‘Well, this is a nice little place. What is it used for, do you suppose? Does Lady Alice take tea here?’

‘Oh no,’ Jane said quickly, ‘her ladyship never ventures in here.’