At Your Service
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
At Your Service Anthology
ISBN # 978-1-78184-336-9
The Gardener’s Sins ©Copyright Alysha Ellis 2013
His Delectable Cook ©Copyright Cerise Deland 2013
A Lady For Two ©Copyright Nan Comargue 2013
In Service to The Senses ©Copyright Demelza Hart 2013
Memoirs of Lady Montrose ©Copyright Virginnia De Parte 2013
The Butler Did It ©Copyright Kate Deveaux 2013
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2013
Edited by Rebecca Douglas
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.
AT YOUR SERVICE ANTHOLOGY
The Gardener’s Sins
Alysha Ellis
His Delectable Cook
Cerise DeLand
A Lady for Two
Nan Comargue
In Service to the Senses
Demelza Hart
Memoirs of Lady Montrose
Virginnia De Parte
The Butler Did It
Kate Deveaux
‘The Gardener’s Sin’ by Alysha Ellis
The gardener’s sin is my lord and lady’s pleasure.
The daughter of an earl, Lady Mary Linden never noticed the servants who toiled on her father’s estate. But her aristocratic blindness shatters when she meets Drake, the head gardener. Drake shows her sensuous delights she could not have dreamed of. Just when she thinks he has taught her all there is to know, Drake introduces a new player into their game…Mary’s cousin Harry.
What they did was surely a sin…but a sin too delicious to give up.
‘His Delectable Cook’ by Cerise DeLand
When Bess Deveraux secures a position as cook in the household of the delectable devil who taught her the joy of loving years ago, she shows him that she has more to offer him now that she is older, wiser and oh so eager to please all the men in his employ.
Bess Deveraux learnt the joy of loving years ago at the hands of a masterful man. But her family forbade her his notorious company. Now, at the opportunity to not only find that man again but also work for him, Bess secures a position in his household.
Lord Taryn Wentworth has no idea where this delightful woman has been or how she managed to stand before him as his cook, but he is determined to enjoy her, her delectable offerings—and to offer them to his male staff as well.
Taryn knows his lovely cook will agree to revel in every delight he has in store for her. After all, pretty Bess is an expert not merely in the fine art of satisfying human appetites, but in the refined art of pleasing many men at once, offering up her succulent body—in the dining room, on the kitchen table, on the floor and anywhere else her fancy or her master’s leads her.
‘A Lady for Two’ by Nan Comargue
Aristocratic couple, Charles and Lise Hessell, enjoy bringing other men into their sexual play, but their marriage is hollow until handsome Luke Holden arrives in the village.
After three years of marriage to Charles Hessell, the last son of an old aristocratic family, Lise thought she knew everything about him. But when Luke Holden walks into their lives, and into her home, she realises that Charles has been hiding a past that included this sexy stranger.
Although the two men now hate each other, Charles is forced to employ Luke as his overseer when his former property manager absconds. The situation offers intriguing possibilities. Lise has dallied with servants before, with her husband’s blessing, but this new arrangement would mean an emotional commitment that she does not know if she could contemplate.
With Lise’s sly interventions, the two men are able to make up their own quarrel and when Lise catches them kissing passionately, she realises that she has fallen in love with both men. But is there room in their pairing for her?
‘In Service to the Senses’ by Demelza Hart
Is pleasure at the firm hands of Edward, the valet, enough for Lady Isabella? Perhaps not. When a new footman arrives, she takes another plaything.
Life in a grand Edwardian country house is stifling Lady Isabella Fortescue, and her bullying, cheating husband has ensured her marriage is dead and loveless. All the more reason for Isabella to seek pleasure elsewhere, which she does relentlessly. And no one satisfies her intense needs more than the Lord’s gorgeous, cocky valet, Edward.
Her Ladyship lets him turn the tables on the servant/master relationship and she reaps the stinging but deliciously pleasing benefits. And when Edward is unavailable, the new footman, Frederick, is only too happy to provide Isabella with another outlet for her constant craving. But it is Edward who holds the key to her happiness. Their relationship deepens as they explore sensation and release through each other’s bodies. However, Edward wants to break out of service and thinks he should start a new life in America. But can he and Isabella relinquish the intense passion and pleasure they find in each other?
‘Memoirs of Lady Montrose’ by Virginnia De Parte
Christopher Mortlock—gardener extraordinaire. Everything you’d want from your gardener—and more, much more. Hedges trimmed and cravings tended with expert care and consideration.
Lady Helen attends a Brighton establishment to be sexually satisfied by their staff. Her husband Henry pays for this arrangement and together they relive the experiences.
This idyllic scheme falls apart when Christopher Mortlock recognises Lady Helen in London and endeavours to blackmail her. He is unaware of Lord Henry’s involvement and Mortlock’s blackmail plot is turned around to the benefit of all three of them.
Mortlock agrees to a new proposal to satisfy Lady Helen’s sexual needs and is inventive and athletic in his labours as their gardener and employee—until the day he introduces her to ‘fairy dust’. Lord Henry’s wrath descends to save Lady Helen from addiction and punish Mortlock for his audacity.
‘The Butler Did It’ by Kate Deveaux
Sparks fly when Vi Martin hires Clarkson Dale, a professional butler for her swanky Miami retreat. Work turns to play when they break all the rules.
Vi Martin, successful multi-millionaire businesswoman, is in for a surprise when the domestic agency sends her a new butler for her swanky Miami penthouse. Drop dead gorgeous Clarkson Dale is the consummate professional butler…until he meets his new employer. The sparks fly and their attraction is undeniable when they break all the rules. She knows it’s wrong to have sex with the hired help but the woman is used to getting what she wants and she
can’t resist temptation.
Clarkson is conflicted by his professional role and his flagrant attraction to Vi. They strike a compromise, work is work and play is play. Strictly professional by day and all bets are off at night when they explore their fantasies. Vi likes it when a man takes control and she’s open to new experiences. Clarkson has just the man for the job. Michel, Vi’s personal chef, has other talents, and joins Clarkson and Vi in exploring her deeper sexual tastes. Clarkson takes control of a night of passion and guides Michel on how to properly pleasure their employer. Michel has no problem rising to the occasion.
THE GARDENER’S SINS
Alysha Ellis
Chapter One
“Mary, I shouldn’t give this to you. It’s not right.”
Lady Mary Linden, third daughter of the Earl of Whitten, snatched the book of Ancient Greek poetry from her cousin Harry’s hand. “Rubbish. You’ve read it. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re a female!” Harry’s voice rose in offended outrage. “Some of these poems are…um…quite shocking.”
“You mean they’re sexually explicit,” Mary snapped.
“The poems are from the classical Greek period. They’re not meant for women. The female constitution is delicate,” Harry said. “Excessive stimulation is harmful.”
“You don’t really believe that nonsense you’re spouting.” Mary grinned at him. Her cousin knew her better than that. He knew she was hopelessly curious—about everything.
“A lot of people do believe it.” He ran a hand though his hair, dislodging a straight golden lock that flopped onto his forehead. “They also say women don’t like sex.”
“That’s probably not true either,” Mary argued. “If women were given the chance I know they would enjoy sex just as much as men do. We just never get to find out. Just like we never get to learn about History and Politics—and Ancient Greek poetry. How can I tell I won’t like something if I never get told anything about it?”
Her cousin shook his head. “I should never have started lending you any of my books. I knew no good would come of it.”
Mary ignored the last part of his statement. “I’m grateful for all the things I’ve learnt. I couldn’t have done it without your passing on your books to me.” She paced the floor, her steps long and fast, hardly befitting the elegant glide expected of a lady. She didn’t care, she was heartily sick of restrictions, infuriated by the list of things boys were actively encouraged to experience that were forbidden to girls.
“But this is different. This book has poems in it that talk about things you know nothing about.”
“Well once I read them, I will know, won’t I?” she reasoned.
“But that’s just it. I don’t think it’ll be good for you.”
“If I expire from hysterical over-stimulation I am sure no one would blame you.” She rested her hand on his arm. “You needn’t worry.”
His forehead remained wrinkled and his grey-blue eyes looked distant and disturbed. “The kind of relationship the poet describes. It’s…well, most people think it’s disgusting. And it is against the law in this country.” The furrow between his eyes deepened. “I don’t know how you came to know the book existed, or why you asked me for it.”
“I read about it in one of the other books you lent me.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “And once I read that it existed, who else would I ask about it but my wonderful cousin Harry? I knew if you had a copy you wouldn’t refuse to give it to me.”
“When have I ever refused you anything,” he sighed.
“Never,” she replied. “And I love you for it.”
“I don’t want to do anything that could cause trouble. Not after all your family has done for me.”
“Shh.” She put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare start telling me how grateful you are. And don’t talk about my family. It’s our family and always has been.”
Mary couldn’t remember a time when Harry hadn’t lived with them. His mother, her father’s sister, had died in childbirth and his father had gambled away his fortune, ignoring the needs of his infant son. Mary’s parents had taken Harry and raised him as their own. She’d grown up loving her gentle cousin.
“I am grateful,” he insisted. “Your father gave me a life I could never have had otherwise. But I am not his son. I may have a title but there is no money or property to go with it. I have to make my own way in the world.”
“You know Papa would never leave you unprovided for.”
Harry shifted from foot to foot and refused to meet her eyes. “He might change his mind if I failed to live up to his expectations.”
“You think Papa would cut you out of his will because he found out you were lending me salacious reading material?” A spurt of laughter escaped her. “Papa is not as hidebound as that, I can promise you.” Again she laughed and waggled the book at him. “But to appease you, I’ll take the book some place no one will find me.”
The worried look didn’t leave his eyes and he didn’t laugh with her as she’d expected. She reached up to kiss his cheek once more. “Silly. Nothing will go wrong, I promise you.”
Tucking the book under her arm, she strolled outside, leaving Harry standing still and silent in the hallway.
The sun shone warmly in a rare, summer-blue sky. She walked towards a shaded bench on the edge of the lawn and sat down. Three young men swept scythes from side to side, mowing the expanse of grass. They were shirtless, their backs glistening with sweat, muscles flexing as they bent and stretched. Their hypnotic rhythm kept her motionless and enthralled until one of them looked up and saw her then nudged the others. All three stopped and straightened.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she stood and moved away, following a path that led between the trees to a little wilderness. Overhead, interlocking branches provided cool shade and the soft cooing of doves mixed in lazy harmony with the drone of bees. This was just what she wanted. Somewhere remote, rustic, but still safe within the confines of her father’s estate.
Another path branched off the main one, narrower, scattered with twigs and mushy, decomposing leaves left from last autumn. Clearly few people ever came this way. The deserted pathway lured her. After a few yards it narrowed even more and turned sharply. She glanced behind her. The main house, the lawns and the gardeners were completely hidden from sight. Mary shrugged and strolled on.
Ten minutes later she broke out of the trees. A small lake twinkled in the sunlight. A pair of white swans floated peacefully on the surface. On the far edge of the lake stood a small building, its white painted walls almost smothered by thick clusters of pink climbing roses. Arched windows were set into the walls, their shape echoed in the double doors at the entrance. The enchanting scene drew her forward.
As she placed her foot on the step that led to the front doors, she hesitated. She had an odd sense that she ought to knock. She dismissed the idea at once. The summerhouse was on her father’s estate. And she had every right to enter. She put her hand on the doorknob and turned it.
The door opened silently and she stepped inside. A mosaic tiled floor depicting a hunting scene led to an oversized daybed pushed up against a wall. If the summerhouse was infested with mice or rats, there was no sign of them. The entire place was remarkably tidy and well maintained for a deserted building.
The musky scent of roses and the warm, dappled sun falling through the latticework windows made it a perfect place for her to read Harry’s book.
She sat on the daybed, stretching out on its wide mattress, snuggling her back up against the padded rest at the end. Feeling deliciously wicked, she kicked off her shoes, rolled down her stockings then began to read.
Harry might have found the subject matter shocking but he must have had a far better idea of where to look for the scandalous parts than she did. The introduction to the work was dull and old fashioned. While she normally loved the chance to improve her knowledge, today, with the sun shining and in this peaceful spot, she co
uldn’t summon up her usual enthusiasm.
The sun warmed her face and her eyelids grew heavy.
The sound of the door being shut snapped her awake. A man stood in the middle of the room. Shadows fell across his face and she couldn’t make out his features. His arms were folded across his powerful chest.
Mary swung her legs down, smoothing her skirts and tucking her bare feet out of sight. Her heart fluttered with the first stirrings of fear.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “You have no right to be here.”
“I have as much right as you, my lady.” There was no subservience in his tone, yet he knew her rank.
“If you know my title, you know this is my father’s estate.” She lifted her chin, well used to giving orders. “I insist that you leave at once.”
“I’m not interested in your demands.”
The man stepped forward and she saw his face for the first time. He wasn’t as handsome as Harry—few men were, but he had a hard chiselled appearance, his cheekbones high and his mouth a firm slash. A muscle fluttered alongside his jaw.
He wore no coat or hat, just a simple white broadcloth shirt and a pair of brown breeches, his feet in a pair of serviceable boots. Not a gentleman of leisure then. Unless he was a trespasser, and he seemed far too self-assured for that, he must work on the estate. He ought to be tugging at his forelock and leaving her alone, but he didn’t seem to be aware of that.