Lords, Ladies, Butlers and Maids: Period Erotica in Private Houses

Lords, Ladies, Butlers and Maids: Period Erotica in Private Houses
Alegra Verde

Morwenna Drake

Flora Dain

Heather Towne

Ludivine Bonneur

Rose de Fer

Mina Murray

Donna George Storey

Tudor Tudor

Upstairs and downstairs, aristos and servants, and ever the twain will meet and misbehave.Original period erotica stories from Mischief Books, featuring featuring Donna George Story, Rose de Fer, Kathleen Tudor, Heather Towne and many more.“A good servant is invisible. To be seen is to ask for trouble.” But when Irene’s Master casts his eyes upon the serving girl, the ‘trouble’ truly begins.At the Latham’s lavish engagement party, it appears the bridegroom is a scoundrel and his improper attentions will leave a sting on young ladies foolish enough to court his company.During piano lessons, the stern Mr Blackshaw helps Lily hit all the right notes with a special brand of personal instruction.

Lords, Ladies, Butlers and Maids

Period Erotica in Private Houses

Table of Contents

Cover (#ue22a499a-8746-503a-9032-e8715e487143)

Title Page (#u63fc4144-4fd0-5c10-8d7b-c94b4a2d2f7a)

Lips Like Heaven – Donna George Storey (#u131704d8-d462-591d-b861-848bdbfef93c)

The Engagement Party – Alegra Verde (#u3f31fa4c-3431-5d37-949a-93a1876827cc)

Hitting the Right Notes – Rose de Fer (#u9cb11f2b-cf12-5bc9-9a63-548a40bd71b5)

Wanton Wagers – Morwenna Drake (#litres_trial_promo)

The Kiss – Ludivine Bonneur (#litres_trial_promo)

The Lady and the Maid – Kathleen Tudor (#litres_trial_promo)

The Architect – Mina Murray (#litres_trial_promo)

Peekaboo Lace – Flora Dain (#litres_trial_promo)

Christmas Carol – Heather Towne (#litres_trial_promo)

More from Mischief (#litres_trial_promo)

About Mischief (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Lips Like Heaven (#ulink_67df023b-8482-52ef-8f00-634ca5c62d25)

Donna George Storey (#ulink_67df023b-8482-52ef-8f00-634ca5c62d25)

A good servant is invisible. To be seen is to ask for trouble.

So my aunt told me before I went into service, soon after my parents died.

But she hadn’t warned me not to be heard.

My ‘trouble’ began innocently enough, with all four members of the staff gathered around the piano in the drawing room, enjoying a bit of music after a hard day’s work. Had the family been in residence, we would have properly confined ourselves to the servants’ hall, but the stylish London townhouse looked more like a storeroom as we prepared the newlywed home of Mr and Mrs Charles E. Shaw. Each day more crates arrived, luxurious furnishings ordered by the master’s wife-to-be. Meanwhile Alice and I polished woodwork, scrubbed floors and tidied up the mess left by the painters. Mr Barker, on loan from the master’s father’s London house, stocked the wine cellar and pantries, and old Tim put up fresh wallpaper. None of us knew if the mistress would keep us on, but the uncertainty gave our days a holiday air, which was why we dared assemble in the drawing room in the first place.

We never dreamed our master would drop in on us unannounced.

Mr Barker was playing the piano and I led the songs – back home I was famous for my clear soprano. ‘The English Jenny Lind’ the boys called me. And so I was quite lost in the light-hearted ditty ‘Now Is the Month of Maying’, when suddenly the smiling faces of my fellow servants froze in horror. Slowly I turned to see three tall gentlemen, resplendent in evening clothes, regarding the lot of us with amusement.

Mr Barker jumped to his feet and bowed stiffly. ‘Mr Shaw, I’m terribly sorry. We weren’t expecting you this evening, sir.’

I’d not yet met my employer. He’d been as invisible to me as I was supposed to be to him. Yet when the most handsome of the three said, ‘Don’t trouble yourself, Barker, I’m glad to see you all enjoying yourselves,’ and fixed his eyes directly on my person, my whole body tingled.

Mr Barker was the only miscreant to keep his wits. ‘We’ll be getting back downstairs, sir. May I bring refreshment?’

The master was still gazing at me. ‘I suppose we could do with another bottle of port. And I’d like this nightingale to stay and sing us a few songs.’

Mr Barker, Alice and Tim vanished like phantoms, and I was left alone with the gentlemen, altogether too visible to their glittering eyes.

‘Don’t be frightened.’ The master smiled. ‘You have a lovely voice. You could be on the stage.’

I blushed. Back home some had suggested as much, but more as a taunt for ‘putting on airs’ when I sang.

The master seated himself at the piano and began to play a lively tune I didn’t recognise.

‘I didn’t know you could play so well, Charles. Perhaps you should go on the stage yourself?’ said the blond gentleman who sported a thin moustache, smirking.

‘He only uses his talents to seduce married ladies, Sheldon,’ said the tallest man, who had striking green eyes. ‘I wonder if his own wife will prove equally irresistible?’

The master merely laughed.

As the gentlemen all seemed quite merry from drink, I inched toward the door, hoping to make my escape.

Alas, they hadn’t forgotten me. Green Eyes caught me by the arm and pushed me playfully toward the piano. ‘Don’t run away from us, little bird.’

‘Voice as sweet as a Lillie Langtry’s,’ the blond declared, his eyes sweeping over me as if I were something good to eat.