NOTE: All characters are over 18, and had their first sexual experiences after 18. Though the story involves grooming, no scenes or acts will even involve anyone beneath 18 years old.
Chapter 1
The new butler had arrived on a cold autumn morning after the mists had veiled the landscape. The gray hid the mountains, the treeline, the fences and most of the road. The brown horse appeared pulling a single-person wagon. Even though the driver was partially covered by the burlap, the silhouette of his top hat was discernible, as was his hair of thick long curls that were taken by the breeze. A dark black coat hugged his torso, and there was a thin line of lace in his sleeves before his dark blue gloves.
Rose was taken by an uncomfortable ache in her chest and a sense of unease deep in her bones. She brushed the edges between wood and glass with force. Encrusted dust clung despite her efforts. She wanted to run down and join the housekeeper in the greetings, but she didn't dare. A sense of urgency drove her to persist in her work.
Drizzle and chilly winds had begun a week before. Mrs Serra, the housekeeper, informed Rose that it was common for the cold to blow from the sea nearby, but she knew that it wasn't so simple. The frigid air originated at the South Pole then traversed both sea and land, ascending the continent, bringing with it humidity and a decrease in temperature. As Copper Peak Hall was built atop a cliff and between a ragged landscape, the migrant winter clouds got trapped above the property. It would be a bleak setting until summer arrived, a harsh climate when it came to mould, lichen, and moss. Over the years, the house had become covered in grime, eaten by humidity, and green bloomed from its most hidden corners. Rose was determined to fight against it. She would not be found incompetent.
Her cousin's house had been much more sumptuous and decorated. It was a modern, small-town manor with a fashionable and luxurious architecture and decoration. Copper Peak Hall was simpler in comparison, built on stucco and wood, poorer in reliefs and art. It was from a period prior to the availability of numerous commodities, during which architects and masons were unable to reach cities in the countryside. As such, it was simply a plain cube with a clay roof and wooden framed windows, without reliefs or arabesques, but it had many rooms and could be considered comfortable by any gentleman with sense. Money was money anywhere, and could afford the work to make as large a house as one would desire. It was fresh in the summer and dreadfully cold during the short winter. However, it had not been constructed to withstand the moisture without consistent maintenance, and the previous proprietors had failed in this regard.
Mrs Serra had told her when she arrived:
"I've been at Copper Peak Hall for thirty years now. I began to work here as a governess, then became the housekeeper when the kids grew up. Now Mr Santos, the son, lives in the capital, and I take he's happy there. He never came back to visit, and now sold the house to Mr Carvalho. Which is good for us, I mean. There's little joy in being a keeper to an empty house, and finally, we will have some jobs again, god knows the people in the village need it. I haven't been able to clean like I used to, and after Julia married — she was the previous maid — Mr Santos didn't send enough money to hire anyone else. It's been just us two for a while now, and yolanda, the washing woman who comes by a few days a week."
Us two meant her and Mr Franco, who was the last manservant, and also an elder. Franco obviously wasn't up to the task of repairing architectural damage, keeping the garden, the roof, the columns, buying and bringing stores from the village to the house and anything else that required strength. He'd been the one who picked Rose at the village station and brought her over in a small cart pulled by a very flimsy horse, and the task had leaved him extremely tired after.
Rose had asked: "and what sort of man is this Mr Carvalho?"
"Very dashing type, tall, gentle, a wide smile. He came once to inspect the place before buying, and stayed here a few weeks after the business was done to do some housekeeping. I was asked to hire three maids, a gardener and a cook; and Mr Carvalho will hire his servants himself. I expect the gentleman will move here and look for marriage. Finally settle down, as any bachelor should. That would be so exciting. I haven't held a baby in years," Mrs Serra giggled. Mr Franco agreed, "and I hope he might turn the property productive again. On the good days, Copper Peak produced over 6 litres of milk per cow a day, and half of it was turned into cheese. Mr Santos sold all the cattle before moving away. It would be good for the people if there was more work again, yes. The village surely needs it."
After two months of cleaning, uncovering furniture, polishing forgotten silverware, and fighting against the green and black dots on every wall, Rose was not convinced that Mr Carvalho had made a wise purchase. Where there wasn't damage on the walls, the flooring or the ceiling were crooked by humidity, and where even those were taken care of, the mould had conquered fiercely. It stained the house like a sickness. The air was always damp, always heavy with the smell of mildew. What did he see in Copper Peak Hall? Why had he chosen to invest in a place so riddled with decay?
And if she couldn't fight that mess, what would be of her position when the Master of the house arrived? The butler would be her first sign of what was to come.
They finally met when Rose was coming downstairs for lunch, and Mrs Serra was guiding the new arrival throughout the house. The maid stepped to the side, still holding the broom and the bucket close. She had hope to be ignored.
"Ah, yes, and here is Rose. She's the cleaning maid, recently hired."
Mrs Serra gently introduced and gestured, presenting the girl as she was a decorated candelabra. Rose made a polite bow, hoping her nervousness was well disguised. The man was still dressed in his travel garments, and those were fine and beautiful, well-made, sober and polite.
"Ah, yes, let me take a look at you, miss Rose."
Rose lifted her gaze and saw herself reflected into dark hazel eyes that studied her with severity. The man wasn't elder at all, probably not even thirty, but his sombre expression gave him an older appearance. He reminded Rose of an illustration of a lion she had seen in a book long ago, with his wavy hair and his piercing gaze. His eyes were a bit too small in relation to the rest of his face, but they were deep and well drawn.
"Good morning, sir."
"This is the butler, Rose, hired by Mr Carvalho. You may address him as Mr Moraes."
"Tell me, Rose, what do you say of the state of the house?"
Why, why, why did he want to talk to her? She quickly came up with a very polite, very political answer, the best she could muster.
"I can only applaud Mrs Serra in her efforts, sir. The place is very well taken care of. And It's a pretty house, sir. Very distinguished"
"Yes, for a two century old home, it's holding itself together. Where do you come from, girl?"
"My previous position was at Rioazul Longhouse, near the city of x, sir."
"Never heard of it."
"It's a few days of travel away from here."
"And did you like it there?"
"It was a grand and beautiful manor, I was fortunate to have been there for so long."
"But not pleasant enough that you didn't have to search for a new position."
Rose was overcome by his bluntness and blushed.
"No place is truly pleasant when one is not wanted. They had no use for a fourth maid, and I decided to leave before they took the decision to dismiss me."
That answer got a smile out of him, though not a pleasant one. Rose didn't understand why he wanted to know.
"I see. But you are young, aren't you?"
"I'm twenty, sir."
"Was that place your first place of employment, then?"
"Ah... Yes."
"All you knew. Did they teach you properly, would you say?"
"I'm confident in my work, so, yes."
"I expect that. We don't know when we might hire other maids, in fact, as the Master will be drawing the funds for renovations."
A house of that size required at least three maids working together, or else the chores would pile up. Well, if she had wanted a position where she was truly needed, she managed well indeed.
"I'll do my best, sir."
"Good."
They left her with a growing sense of anxiety. As Rose descended the stairs, her thoughts lingered on her conversation with Mr Moraes. The new butler's demeanour was far more probing than she had expected, hinting that he would not leave her in peace. This was hardly surprising — after all, butlers and housekeepers were typically of a controlling disposition, exactly why they attained their positions. Mrs Serra, being older and more fatigued, displayed little urgency in her duties — she had likely already secured her future should she choose to retire. Thus, she had not troubled Rose during these past two quiet months.
That peace had now come to an end. Rose had never been excellent at the art of keeping her head down and passing unnoticed. But even if she did, it was evident Mr Moraes would not allow her.
As she entered the kitchen, she was greeted by the warm scent of stock and fresh bread. The cook, Ms Silva, was busy chopping vegetables, her thick hands moving deftly. She glanced up and smiled at Rose.
"Grab a plate from the shelf."
Rose forced a small smile back, trying to shake off the unease that clung to her like the dust she was always sweeping away. She sat at the large communal wooden table in the kitchen, grateful for the break, though her appetite had all but vanished. The employees' table had space for at least twenty people, denouncing the grandeur of old lost by Copper Peak Farm. Rose couldn't imagine working in a house that was so crowded.
Ms Silva served her a plate of thick purée and roasted chicken.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Did you meet Mr Moraes yet?"
"He gave you a hard time, didn't he?" Ms Silva asked, her voice kind and knowing. "He has that haughty way about him. But don't let him shake you."
Rose hesitated before answering, stirring her food. "He just... asked plenty of questions right away."
The cook chuckled softly. "Just assessing you, that's all. Mr Carvalho will depend on him for everything, he's probably stressed. He did the same thing with me."
When Rose was halfway through her meal, another person entered the kitchen. She was a woman about her age, dressed in conservative black, her caramel skin looking somewhat washed out by the dark colour. Her hair was tied back, an apron cinched her waist. Her eyes were cold and tired, as if she had no energy to feel anything besides boredom. She, too, was served a plate, and Ms Silva introduced her.
"This is Mrs Moraes assistant, Gabriela. Gabriela, this is Rose, the cleaning maid."
"How do you do, Rose?" Gabriela said politely as she took her seat on the opposite end of the table.
"A pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the Hall."
Gabriela gave a slight nod, her expression remaining inscrutable as she scooped into her food.
"Is the weather always this bleak?"
