(Author's Note: Hi everyone and thank you for checking out this story! There's been a long gap since I last wrote anything but I'm keen to get back to it. If you've read my series, The Gift, you'll know that Lioness Pictures is preparing to make an ambitious, period-set drama. Consider this series to be the novelization of the film!
This is obviously a work of erotic fantasy and no disrespect is intended in my depiction of the work undertaken by nurses and doctors.
All sexual exploits occur with characters over 18yrs - Chloe)
It was a short ride from the railway station. Florence sat in the back of the cab, her weekend bag on the seat next to her. She gazed out of the window as the scenery changed from the relative hustle and bustle of Cirencester to the countryside and mused how very little had changed since she was last here, before the war.
Florence was well aware of how much she had changed, however. She'd last been here aged 16, just before leaving for boarding school in Lincoln. St Catherines had been the school of choice for each generation of the Camberton girls. However just as she was finishing her final year, war broke out. Florence had been swept up in the drama of seeing young men marching down the streets, off to do their part, that she felt the need to be part of it herself. So, at the age of 20 Florence found herself as a junior nurse in France.
And now I'm back here, she thought to herself as the cab turned through the stone pillars that indicated the start of the Camberton estate. She had no immediate family of her own here now. Her father had been a colonel in the army who'd been killed in action, her mother, Jane, had died shortly after hearing the news. The estate had moved into the hands of Florence's Aunt Marjory.
It hadn't been Florence's intention to come back here, except she'd received a very cordial invitation from her aunt, asking for some assistance with what she described as a "delicate matter". Ever since receiving the letter, Florence had pondered what kind of assistance she could possibly provide her aunt.
The cab sped along the bridal path leading to the house, lined on both sides with trees which were in full green. Despite her early misgivings about being back, she was smiling as the house, a large mansion with three wings, got closer. As the cab slowed, Florence could see two figures waiting by the main door.
As soon as the cab came to a halt, the driver climbed out and opened her door for her. Florence stepped out and recognised her aunt Marjory stepping towards her with her arms outstretched.
"Florence darling! It's so good of you to come. Welcome back!" she smiled. Florence stepped into the embrace, wrapping her own arms around her aunt.
"It's lovely to see you, and I must admit, its lovely to be back, Aunt Marjory".
"Oh please, just Marjory! You're not a young girl anymore! In fact, let's look at you!" She took a step back and took in Florence's figure. She'd dressed a little conservatively for the journey, a shin-length dress under her long-cut jacket. Florence's hair was cut in a fashionable bob and her lips had a light coating of rouge.
"Marvelous, Florence dear. I can't wait to catch up with you after dinner."
Florence, in turn, was appraising herself of her aunt. She knew Marjory's husband, Kenneth, was a captain in the navy and was tragically killed -- his ship sunk by a submersible of all things! - and Marjory had been running the estate on her own for the past six years. She seemed to have aged gracefully and had kept up to date with her choice of fashion. Her brown hair was showing a little grey but was well-kept, neatly tied in a chignon, showing off her large pearl earrings which matched her necklace. Florence smiled broadly at her.
A young man wearing the house livery stepped forward, with a limp in his left leg.
"May i take your bag, ma'am?" he asked.
"This is Jennings, my right-hand man", Marjory explained. Florence guessed he must be roughly the same age as herself.
"Thank you, Jennings, that is most kind".
"I thought you'd like your old room, Florence dear. It's been refurnished, of course, but I'm sure it holds some happy memories for you."
"That is most kind, thank you, Marjory." In truth, Florence didn't know what to think of the gesture. She hadn't expected it, in truth she hadn't thought of where she'd sleep at all. But she reasoned this was Marjory's way of saying she was more than a mere guest. She was family.
Marjory smiled and nodded to Jennings, who took Florence's bag into the house, while Marjory linked arms with her niece and led her inside.
"I'll let you go and freshen up dear, and we can have a nice dinner together, and then a chat as to why i invited you here."
"I'm looking forward to it, Marjory. All this mystery has certainly piqued my interest!"
Florence entered her room -- a place she'd spent seventeen years of her life. Like many girls she'd been home-schooled with her own private tutors, then sent to finishing school where she boarded. She had mixed feelings as she stepped inside. The floral wallpaper had been removed, and the walls painted plain white. A larger, adult-sized bed took up the space where her old single bed had been, and her old school desk had been replaced with a bureau. She opened the doors to the walk-in wardrobe and started to unpack her clothes. She'd brought enough outfits for the weekend, ones which were reasonably versatile given she had no idea what she'd be up to or what her aunt had planned.
The view remained the same though, as Florence gazed out of the large window. Her room overlooked the front of the house, so she could always see when someone was visiting, watching them drive down the long bridle path. She spent many a day, sitting in front of the window, reading. She could tell the grounds had been well-cared for. Obviously, Jennings, despite his young age, knew what he was doing. It made her feel happy, knowing that the estate was in good hands and would persevere for generations to come. It wasn't something which had concerned her, in her younger days -- the estate and this house had seemed timeless. However, she had seen first-hand the destruction of war, and how quickly, devastatingly quickly, things can change. On her way to her first duty station in France, she'd taken in the lush green scenery, it seemed idyllic and reminded her of home. But a mere four months later, she'd travelled the same route and hardly recognised it. The area had seen intense fighting with both sides bombarding it. The green fields had been replaced with muddy brown, churned over and over by the heavy machinery of war. Vehicles no better than burnt twisted clumps of metal littered the field. Yes, Florence thought to herself, this could all change in an instant...
There was a knock at the door, and Florence went to open it. Outside was one of the servants. Florence didn't recognise her; she was quite young.
"Madame has asked me to see if i can run you a bath, Miss, she smiled. Florence smiled back at the pretty young woman.
"What is your name, dear?" she asked.
"Juliet, Miss", came the reply.
"Thank you, Juliet, a bath would be lovely."
"Right away, Miss. I'll let you know when it's ready!" and she left immediately to see to the bath.
The bathroom was a large, tiled room with a large tub situated in its centre, on a raised dais. Florence had found a robe in her room to use, and walked in as Juliet was testing the temperature of the water. She looked round and smiled.
"Hot but not scolding, Miss," she said, and stood back. Juliet's eyes widened momentarily as Florence untied the robe and let it slip from her shoulders, sliding off her bare skin. The young woman couldn't help but take in the lean, lithe figure of her mistress's guest, her pert small breasts, or her very tidy pubic mound.
Florence caught her gaze and said, "It's the latest in grooming among women in London. Do you like it?"
"it's very pretty, yes Miss," said Juliet, her gaze locked on the neat triangle of fur. She suddenly realised and shook herself out of it, a pink shade coming to her cheeks. "Oh I'm so sorry, Miss, I shouldn't have been staring like that!"
