Lady And Her Maid Pt 01

"You should be quite proud of yourself, darling. You've made what promises to be a very prosperous and advantageous match," beamed Lady Hampden to her daughter.

"Thank you, mother," Evie looked demurely at her gloved hands folded in her lap, before glancing out the window of the carriage. All she could see was her reflection in the darkness. Her feet hurt and were probably swollen from dancing all night. Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. If it weren't for the bumpy uneven road, she might have been able to fall asleep right there.

"Evie, do sit up. You don't want to ruin your posture," Lady Hampden cautioned, "I know you're exhausted. I remember my days and nights as a debutante. Even now as your chaperone, it's tiring. But, a lady never slouches."

"Yes, mother," Evie straightened as best as her tired muscles would allow.

"Your mother is right, you mustn't slip up now," Evie's father, the Earl of Hampden chimed in, "Not when you're so close. Cranbrooke asked me just this evening for a meeting on the morrow. He'll be by at noon."

"Yes, father. I shan't disappoint you or mother between now and then," Evie stifled a yawn, "I don't mean to complain, but I will be so glad to finally rest my head tonight."

The carriage pulled up to the elegant townhouse where the family lived during the Season. The trio made their way to the door just as the butler, Jameson, opened it to let them in.

"Good evening, Jameson," Lord Hampden greeted as he handed his hat, cane, and gloves to his trustworthy and steadfast attendant, "This is all we shall require. Please, lock up and get some rest."

"Very good, my lord," Jameson bowed as he closed the door and turned the lock, before beginning to make rounds of all the doors and windows, and to put out any still lit candles before retiring himself.

Evie stood at the bottom of the stairs for a second, contemplating the steps her pained, slippered feet and stiffened muscles. She slowly made her way up, each step getting easier as her muscles loosened. Her corset seemed to only get tighter, though, and her reticule seemed to only get heavier. She entered her chamber to find a roaring fire, a few lit candles, a mug of cocoa, and small plate of bread and cheese.

"Good evening, miss," Evie's lady's maid curtsied, "I thought you might enjoy a drink and a bite while I brush out your hair."

Evie, though exhausted, surveyed the room appreciatively. "You are a treasure, Emily. Please, help me undress. This corset is unbearable."

Emily, with nimble fingers, unfastened and loosened the laces of various layers before aiding her charge from the restrictive garment. Evie sat down at the table and took a sip of the now lukewarm cocoa, and nibbled at the cheese and bread at the plate. She leaned back against the chair as Emily's hands picked through the elaborate updo to remove pins. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the divine feeling of Emily's hands working loose the pins, then thought better of it and opened them again to keep from falling asleep in the chair. She studied her reflection, and that of Emily. They were very much opposites.

Evie had dark, rich brown hair with a slight wave to it. Her blueish grey eyes were dark pools that gave the impression that if one dived in to them, one would never touch bottom. Her skin was pale, and a bit dull from the exertions of the day. She had a delicate, small nose, almost exactly like the one on her mother's face. Her face had a slight roundness, which she liked compared to her mother's sharp angles. Emily, on the other hand, had golden hair. Her eyes were dark, almost as dark as Evie's hair. Her complexion was also pale, and she had a heart-shaped face that give her a decidedly pixie air.

"Emily, I have something to ask you."

"Yes, miss?" Emily put down the gathered pins in a dish on the vanity behind her, and picked up the hair brush.

"Below stairs, you hear gossip about everyone, even from other houses, right?" Emily stopped brushing mid stroke, unsure of how to answer, before Evie continued, "I need to know what's being said about certain people. Are they good to their staff? Do they pay their bills? Are they gamblers?"

"Do you mean your Lord Cranbrooke, my lady?" Emily, understanding the thinly veiled question, exhaled in relief and began brushing again. Many houses wanted to stamp out gossip, not encourage it. Emily had heard tell of servants who had been released from service for the mere suspicion of having leaked a master or mistress' secrets.

"He wants to speak to father tomorrow. It all just seems so fast. We've only waltzed once and gone for a turn about Hyde Park thrice. He might be charming, and appears to be everything a proper husband should, but what do I really know of him? Nothing important. Have you heard anything?"

"Well, miss, when he started calling nearly everyday, we all took a keen interest in him. As far as I have heard, his lordship is everything that is good and proper. I have not heard tell of any mistreatment of staff or financial troubles."

"What have you heard? Anything at all? All he has spoken about with me is of the weather and his horseflesh and his hunting dogs."

Emily put the brush back down on the vanity and began plaiting Evie's hair. "Hmm...Let me think..." Emily paused for a moment to remember the bits and pieces Cook had told her, "He's a second son. I am unsure of what transpired that he inherited, but his lordship was never meant to become Lord Cranbrooke. I'm all done with your hair, my lady, do you need anything else?"

Evie looked down at her aching, swollen feet, "Would it be too much to ask of you to rub my feet? They are ever so sore from dancing all night. That sounds so frivolous to even say out loud!"

Emily walked around to Evie's front and inspected the bare, swollen feet. "Oh, miss! How dreadful! I have cold water for you to wash your face. Go ahead and wash, then we'll soak your feet while I rub them! That ought to help the swelling go down." Emily brought over the basin for Evie to wash her face, along with a small vial of rosewater and a clean towel. The cool water was soothing, and gave Evie chills all down her spine. She felt an odd tingling in her breasts and looked down only to see her nipples hardening underneath her chemise.

Emily brought the basin down to the floor where she had laid down another towel. She gently took one foot, and then the other, rinsing them with the cold, soothing water. Evie leaned her head back, and closed her eyes, knowing that the chill of the water would keep her from slumber. Emily moved the basin away, wet two more towels, and wrapped Evie's feet and ankles in them. Gently, she massaged them through the towels. She slowly moved her way up, massaging the slim ankles and shapely calves one leg at a time, gently moving the plain white chemise up as well.

Emily looked up to see her mistress' beautiful form, with her head tilted back, mouth slightly open, with small moans escaping from between her full, pink lips. Emily's hands massaged back down Evie's legs, at the same time, she moved her gaze down, inspecting Evie's pale throat, to her collarbones, and to the gentle rise and fall of Evie's chest. Through the thin fabric, Emily could clearly see the two hardened nipples rising and falling. She felt her nipples tighten and a tingling wetness building between her legs. She immediately chided herself for having any reaction, especially one so unnatural and unholy. She brought her focus back down to Evie's feet, noticing along the way that she could clearly see the most intimate parts of Evie, and even in the dim candlelight, a glimmer of wetness shimmered there as well.

While she had seen Evie in various states of undress, including completely nude after a bath, it was never quite like this. Evie had always been standing, usually facing away, and never in such a relaxed manner with her legs spread apart, almost as though issuing an invitation to look. And to touch.

Emily, startled by all of the sinful thoughts she was suddenly having of her mistress, quickly unwrapped Evie's feet, dried them, and cleared her throat as she pulled the chemise back down to its correct, modest position.

"Oh, Emily, that was pure bliss," moaned Evie, almost breathlessly, raising her head and smiling at her blushing lady's maid. Emily kept her head down to hide her reddened cheeks as she gathered the towels, bowl, and pitcher.

"I hope that helps, my lady. We'll see how they feel in the morning. Do you require anything else, miss?"

"No, Emily. You've taken quite good care of me. I shall put myself to bed and put out the candles. Please, get some rest," Evie stretched contentedly, before getting up from the chair. Emily curtsied, picked up a candle near the door, then saw herself to bed. She felt a confusing mixture of relief and sadness at leaving the room, and Evie, behind. While she was relieved to have been dismissed before any more untoward thoughts came to her, she still felt a strange, unnatural longing to see Evie so intimately again.

Evie waited for the door to securely close behind Emily before looking around the room at the candles that needed to be put out. She moved towards the closest one, then stopped. Suddenly a naughty thought came to her. She looked towards the windows, but the curtains had been tightly drawn. Evie smiled, and slowly lifted the chemise over her head. She stood in the candlelight, and eyed herself approvingly in the looking glass. She thought of how Emily's hands felt, massaging her legs. Evie's hand, as though moving of its own accord, softly touched her neck, just under her ear, finding an excruciatingly sensitive spot. She paused, looked behind her for the chair, and turned it to face the mirror. She gathered the candles, and placed them strategically to maximize their light. She sat down on the chair, the cool wood giving her chills once again. She moved her hand up to her neck, caressing the spot she had found, then slowly moved her fingertips down to the hard nubs poking from her round, pert breasts. With both hands, she caressed herself, teasing and pinching, and gently circling her nipples. She took turns looking down at her own hands, and looking up to watch herself in the mirror. As she looked in the mirror, she saw her legs slightly spread. She spread them further apart, to how they had been when she was totally relaxed and putty in Emily's hands.

Evie gasped as more of herself came in to view - she had never thought much about that part of her body before as anything except something to be covered. Her eyes hungrily drank in the details of her slit and how it seemed to shimmer with her own wetness. She smiled and licked her lips at the idea that Emily had also seen her legs spread so haphazardly while Evie's chemise had been raised to her knees.

One of her hands crawled slowly from her breast and dipped down between her thighs. She lightly ran her fingers through the hair there, down into the source of the wetness. She felt herself while watching her movements in the mirror. She found her most sensitive place, and stroked the button as it seemed to grow harder. She watched herself, imagining she was watching Emily stroke herself. The sensations in her body felt unbelievable. She changed pace and pressure and found a combination that made her toes curl. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of one hand still teasing her nipple, the other hand between her legs, and imagined Emily's hands massaging her. The image quickly changed to a vision of Emily and Evie kissing, undoing each other's buttons and clasps and ties, and entangling themselves in bed together.

Evie had one final image in her mind's eye of seeing Emily bent down in front of her again, except this time, Emily was completely nude, and Evie's chemise was up around her waist. Emily's magical hands spread Evie's thighs farther apart as she looked up at her mistress-turned-lover with a naughty grin, right before lowering her mouth to Evie's sex.

At that thought, Evie's whole body contracted, and a warm relief flooded from her center. Her limbs tingled with numbness, and she slumped in the chair as feeling returned to her body. She blushed looking at herself in the mirror, taking in the scene with a clear head. How had she done and thought such shameful things? Evie, suddenly shivering with cold, went to the wardrobe and put on her night gown and dressing robe. She put the chair back into its position at the table, gathered the candles on to it and blew all out except one, which she used to guide her way to bed. She placed the candle on the bedside table and climbed in before blowing it out.

In the dark, she found herself alone with her thoughts. She felt dirty and shameful. But for what? What had she done that was so shameful? She wasn't actually sure. Evie knew that wicked thoughts and wantonness were considered sinful, but why? Finally, she settled that it was just practice for marriage, something she needed as an almost engaged woman of eight and ten. After all, a husband would see her intimately at some point, right? With that comforting thought in mind, Evie rolled over and succumbed to her exhaustion.

After leaving her mistress, Emily found her way to her room. She closed her door and slid the latch over before leaning against it in an effort to catch her breath. Her thoughts were racing, and her breathing was rapid and shallow. The initial relief at having been dismissed had fallen away to confusion over these sudden new feelings and sensations in her body. She placed the candle on a side table and, with shaky hands, unbuttoned her frock. She slipped into bed and blew out her candle. Her mind ran through the events of the night, and again she felt the tightening of her nipples and the tingling between her legs. She rolled to her back and sighed, but this seemed to make things worse. She could feel her nipples against the fabric of her chemise, and the same wetness that had begun building between her legs in Evie's room seemed to start again.

Emily stretched and yawned and tried to ignore the feeling, but it seemed to make everything more sensitive. With uncertain fingers, she felt her breasts, and rubbed the hard, pointed tips. Emily drew in a sharp breath and felt her back arch against the bed. She allowed one hand to wander down her stomach to the place between her legs. She touched herself there and immediately felt her wetness soak through her nightdress. Emily, curious, slowly lifted the garment and felt herself. As she explored, she found her most intimate place, and slowly, gently, inserted her middle finger. She moved it in and out, and after a few minutes, she sat up in bed to give herself a better angle. As she moved her finger inside herself, she moved the neck of her nightdress down and watched in awe as her pale breasts jiggled in the dark in time to the movement of her arm.

Emily pulled out her finger and ran her hand up her slit, moaning quietly as she rubbed against her sensitive button. She wished Evie were there watching her, and touching her. She circled around that spot, finding the sensation almost too much. She continued circling and felt a building, pleasing rush. She fell back against her pillow just as her legs spasmed, her toes curled, and her back again arched. She felt a gush of wetness against her fingertips. Her heart was beating harder and faster than she could ever remember feeling it, and she was gasping for breath.

Before Emily could think through what she had just done, and what she had thought about while doing it, she felt herself drift off into sleep.