Margaret Frayne had walked from the train station since she could not stretch for the cost of a seat in a carriage. The wife of her previous employer had given her a few extra coins in her final pay, which Margaret suspected was the financial equivalent of her pity. Margaret had been deemed "unsuitable" for the position, the reason of which was left unstated, although both were aware that this was due to her ladyship's husband continually attempting to molest Margaret whilst she was at her duties. Margaret gave thanks that her ladyship chanced by the front parlour when she did, thus saving her virtue, although she did regret the loss of her position as a result. Lady Swansea had explained that this was "the best solution for all", and gave her a positive reference, but Margaret knew that a positive reference for a domestic helper that was relieved of her duties after only three months did not carry much authority.
Now she was on her own. She no longer had the means of the orphanage to secure her another position. She must fend for herself. It was great luck that she had found the advertisement in the newspaper for a lady's maid with "no experience or references required". She had written immediately applying for the position, advising of her limited experience and her one reference. The following day a letter was delivered to the rooming house where Margaret was staying. A Mrs Millar wrote by return, enquiring of her background. Margaret's heart sank. Being illegitimate would always be a barrier to acceptance in good households. She advised this Mrs Millar that she was an orphaned girl with meagre experience, one reference and seeking a position wherein she could demonstrate her dedication to hard work and pleasing her employer. What a surprise that Mrs Millar responded with an invitation to attend an interview with her the next afternoon.
So it was that Margaret stood at the doors to an impressive stone house, with large bay windows on each side of the ground floor, an ornate turret and the overwhelming smell of new money. Upon her knock, the door was opened by a middle-aged man whose formal posture was at odds with the informal nature of his gaze upon her.
Margaret wondered if her illegitimacy was showing like a fallen petticoat hem. "I am Margaret Frayne. Mrs Millar is expecting me."
"Come in, Miss Frayne. You are indeed expected." He stood by, allowing her into the formal entryway. "Let me take your coat. My name is Franklin and I am the Head Steward." Margaret shrugged out of her coat and glanced around nervously. "Please, follow me. I have been instructed to give you a tour of the house before taking you to the Mistress."
Compared to the Swansea's residence, the Millar's house was nothing to boast about. It was not so grand nor so ornate as her previous employers' home, yet this house was very tastefully appointed and featured furnishings in the latest silks and damasks. In fact, the contents of each parlour and the dining room itself were evidence that the house was designed to showcase the wealth of its owners in as tasteful a manner as possible. There was a basement, a ground floor featuring a front parlour, a dining room, a library (closed as the Master was at work) and, at the back, a ladies' morning room. An external wing at the rear of the house was where the buttery and the kitchen were located. On the first floor, explained Franklin, leading the way, was where the family's bedrooms were located, one for Master, one for the Mistress and of course the nursery. Off the nursery was the Nurse's room. The second floor was where her room would be located, he continued, surprising Margaret with the implied assumption of her employment. He led her into a room that was well lit by a large sash window and featuring an astonishingly fine four-poster bed. Margaret quickly noted the generosity of the room's furniture; a large vanity table, a wardrobe, a small writing desk and a low shelf. Compared to standard accommodations for domestic help this was almost opulent. How fortunate would she be to live like this! A four-poster bed no less and a gilded mirror!
"You like the room then?" Franklin enquired, watching her contain her reaction.
"Oh yes," Margaret breathed. "It is very, very nice."
Franklin smiled at her. "You are joined on this floor by myself, across the way, and in the room down the end of the corridor on the left is the housekeeper and cook, Mrs Latimer. Cedric, the groom, is located in his own quarters next to the stable." Franklin gestured once more to the stairs. "It is now time you met the Mistress."
Curiously, however, Franklin did not announce her to the Mistress as she had been expecting, but rather gestured to the door of the Mistress's room and told her to enter when she was ready. Then he nodded at her and left her standing in the hallway listening to his departure down the stairs. Margaret rapped lightly on the door and waited. She heard "enter" and did so to find herself in the Mistress's sitting room and before her on the sofa was the most astonishing sight.
"I am sorry! So sorry. I had thought I heard enter!" Margret rushed back to the door to exit again, blinking away the sight of the lady's plump breast in the mouth of the young man on the couch next to her.
"Margaret! Margaret, isn't it? I did say enter. Please, sit." Margaret turned around to find the lady of the house smiling and gesturing to an upright chair opposite the chaise upon which she was lounging with the young man. The young man did not stop his suckling on the lady's breast whilst Margaret entered again and took the proffered chair. Uncertainly, she kept her eyes cast down to her lap.
"Do not be uncomfortable, Margaret. If you are to be my maid, then you will need to get used to seeing me in various stages of dress, and used to seeing Cedric here relieve me of some of the milk from my breasts. I have employed a nurse now to take over the feedings, but I find that measures must be taken to relieve the pressure on my breasts." Margaret raised her eyes to find Vivian Millar smiling at her. "You have no need to cast your eyes away, dear. Cedric does not mind. In fact, it would appear that he is enjoying it." Vivian nodded to the crotch of the young man attached to her breast and winked at Margaret. Indeed, Cedric's pole was erect and clearly straining against the fabric of his trousers.
"Cedric, thank you. I need to speak to Ms Frayne now, why don't you go and seek some relief from your discomfort. I will call you later if required."
Cedric removed his mouth from her breast and licked the large brown nipple of the remnants of milk. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you." He stood up, nodded to Margaret and removed himself from the room.
"That was Cedric, Margaret. He manages the horses, among other things. A useful boy, as my husband says." Vivian watched Margaret, as if assessing her response to what she had just witnessed. Margaret's mind was in some shock. She had never before struck a lady who was relaxed about the exposure of her breasts to the help, nor one who was so casual in her recognition of a male's appendage. "We are not conventional here, Margaret," Vivian explained, as if reading her thoughts. "Nothing about the way this house runs is as you would expect. You will have a choice, Margaret, to embrace the unconventional, understanding that we are all of one household who love and support each other in our own way, answering to one man, or else you may choose to go elsewhere and find something more in keeping with your expectations of what domestic service is."
Margaret's vision of the upstairs bedroom with the lovely gilded mirror and large bed for herself was suddenly fading. Where would she go if they did not take her? "Madam, I am sure I do not judge the way my employer chooses to live. It is my position to accept my employer's choices and fulfil my role as best I can."
Vivian Millar smiled and, as if suddenly remembering, put her breast back inside her chemise and did up the front of her bodice. "Exactly. This is how it should be. But Margaret, you would not be treated as just domestic help here. Surely you have seen your room? We take care of all those in our household. In return, you will take care of us, in whatever falls to your position. Obviously, there will be times when we ask a lot of you. Perhaps more than you might expect. But Mr Millar is especially careful to ensure that you will not want for anything material. You will not need to worry about money or clothing or food whilst you are here. You will be thoroughly taken care of. To this end, your wage would be forty pounds a year."
Margaret felt a sudden breathlessness. So much! It was virtually double the expectations of any lady's maid. "Madam, with such generous employers as yourself and the Master, I can guarantee you would not find me ungrateful. I will work to serve yourself and the Master in whatever way I can."
"Of course you will! It is important for you to understand, however, that complete compliance and total service is expected of the position, Margaret. You will answer directly to me and, as Head Steward, you will also answer to Franklin. However, we all answer to the Master. My husband has very strict ideas on the kind of behaviour he expects, Margaret. Should you show disrespect or disobedience, you would be punished by him. Possibly severely."
"Oh Madam! I would never be rude or disobedient to the Master or yourself!"
Vivian's grey eyes took a moment to assess the young woman before her. As if making up her mind, she stood suddenly. "Well, as long as you are clear on that. Now, let's go downstairs so that you may meet my husband."
The Master was seated behind a great desk in the library when they entered. Vivian Millar announced her as "Margaret Frayne, my Lord" before exiting the room backwards and closing the door behind her. Margaret was instantly nervous. The man behind the desk looked up at her in blatant assessment. His blue eyes moved idly from one length of her form to the other. He did not smile at her. He did not greet her in any way nor welcome her. The first thing he did say to her was "turn around". Margaret turned around immediately and stood with her back to him, recalling Vivian Millar's advice on complete obedience to the Master. As she stood, she could hear the Master move from behind his desk towards her. She sensed, rather than saw, the size of the man. He was tall and broad and the hands he placed on her arms felt strong. He turned her around again to face the desk then stood back.
