Their Master's Pleasure Read Online Free Page A

I had occasion to drive into the city on business and enquired whether anyone wished to accompany me. Irene Hammond accepted the offer, saying there were certain small items she needed to obtain.
    â€˜No thank you, Uncle James,’ Victoria said, rising. ‘And now may I please be excused?’
    â€˜Me too,’ Cathy giggled, jumping up so quickly her chair toppled over.
    She was a constant puzzlement to me, my youngest ward. Physically she was all any young (or not so young) man could wish for - astonishingly pretty, with long blonde hair, blue eyes and a figure to make a monk renounce his vows. It was her mental acumen, or rather her lack of it, that had me baffled. When, I wondered, was she planning to grow up?
    The two of them went out together, whispering conspiratorially. With Mrs Hammond and myself about to depart, the phrase ‘when the cat’s away the mice will play’ sprang to mind and I had no doubts my wards would be up to some silly mischief or other. Personally, I wished them well. The misdemeanours of such a guileless pair were almost certain to come to light and having cause to warm their tender bottoms was no hardship whatsoever.
    â€˜How about you, Elizabeth?’ I asked. ‘Do the shops of Oxford not tempt you?’
    Elizabeth shook her head. There was nothing ‘silly’ about my eldest ward, a beautiful young woman, dark-haired and elegant, and intelligent and spirited to boot. ‘Thank you, uncle, but I think not,’ she said. ‘I have some urgent calls to make in the village.’
    I knew she visited certain poor families on occasion, giving what help she could. Most of her allowance went this way, I suspected; certainly she spent little on herself. She was a truly kind person, caring for others - especially her sisters - and sacrificing herself on their behalf. A serious character flaw in my opinion; but then who among us is perfect?
    In the end it was just the governess and myself who climbed into the carriage an hour later. Foster, our elderly groom, clicked his tongue at the horse and we set off for the city of spires. For both myself and the governess to be absent simultaneously was no trivial matter, for we would be leaving no one in charge. Unusually for a residence of some sixty-odd rooms, Bleekston Hall lacked both housekeeper and butler. That the place functioned as smoothly as it did without trustworthy individuals in those key roles was thanks largely to the governess, whose astuteness and firm, no-nonsense manner had proved invaluable in keeping the servants in line. Mrs Hammond handled the day to day business of the household, whilst I dealt with estate matters. The partnership had proved so successful that my plans to seek out a full-time housekeeper had been put in abeyance for the time being.
    The trip to Oxford, along narrow country lanes and through sleepy villages, was always pleasant and never more so than with an attractive and intelligent young woman for a travelling companion. On this occasion, however, the governess appeared a little withdrawn, staring out of the window pensively as though she had something on her mind. Indeed, she had seemed somewhat preoccupied for some days now.
    â€˜Mrs Hammond,’ I said, ‘forgive me for intruding, but you appear to be somewhat troubled. Is it a matter in which I may be of assistance?’
    She turned to me with a sad smile. ‘You are most kind, sir, but I think not. You have already done more than I had any right to expect.’
    She was referring to the fact that I offered her a position when no one else would, for she had been dismissed from her previous post for excessive use of the cane (a contradiction in terms, if ever I heard one). Friendless, without references and deeply in debt, her future was looking exceedingly grim, and my offer must have seemed the answer to all her prayers. I soon showed my true colours when I made it plain that transgressions at Bleekston Hall