House of Sin Read online

  Her most important duty—serve the master’s pleasure.

  Emily’s dreams are simple: a life of dedicated service at a respectable estate, and a strong marriage filled with love and devotion for one man. Portage Place, the manor where her parents apprenticed, seems the perfect place to start. Though it is whispered that all is not as it seems behind its grand façade.

  The rumors, it turns out, ring with truth. The halls are saturated with sensuality, desire and lust. Despite the scandalous duties she is asked to perform, she is determined not to stumble on what could be her first step toward her dreams. Dreams that, lately, have included the manor’s fiery haired groomsman.

  A promise to watch over his younger half-brother brought Adam to Portage Place. For the first time in five years of enjoying the delights of the manor’s unbridled debauchery, Emily’s innocence touches the protector that still lives deep in his core. This house of sin may have ruined him, but he will see to it that it doesn’t ruin her.

  It seems, however, that behind every door lurks a conspiracy to bind Emily in velvet chains of desire. Until the only way out is for Adam to take the biggest risk of all…

  Warning: If servants sleeping with servants, who are sleeping with all the peers and guests at the house upset you…you won’t like this book. Contains explicit sex scenes, threesomes and a whole lot more!

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  House of Sin

  Copyright © 2011 by Lacy Danes

  ISBN: 978-1-60928-330-8

  Edited by Linda Ingmanson

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2011

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  House of Sin

  Lacy Danes

  Dedication

  To my awesome 4novelistas gals Christina Crooks, Susan Lyons and Delilah Marvelle. Without you I would not have finished this story. You have been my strength and encouragement when things were not working right. I adore you.

  To my dear friend Shelli Stevens for suggesting I send this story to Samhain. We have been friends through so much. You are an awesome, amazing friend and I am so happy I know you. Hugs.

  Chapter One

  Cornwall England, 1879

  The ancient butler who sat across the narrow wooden desk stared at her with harsh green eyes. His lips turned down and pursed, twitching the flesh in his oblong face. “Is this your first position, miss?”

  “Y-yes, sir.” Emily inwardly cringed. She should have kept her voice strong yet quiet as her mother had instructed when in the company of those she should respect, but she was nervous and the way that man kept looking at her gave her very little to respect.

  She glanced at the doctor, who stood not two arms’ lengths away. His fair hair and sideburns washed out the smooth, pale skin of his face. If it were not for his startling blue eyes he would have appeared an apparition. His eyes… She lowered her gaze to the stained whitewashed floor. His eyes captivated.

  “Remove your chemise, miss,” the doctor said in a calm and reassuring tone.

  Her knees shook and her heart pounded. She didn’t want to remove her shift and expose her body for the doctor and butler to inspect. She swallowed hard. She would anyway, as houses of quality inspected their unwed female hires for virtue. It was a sign the servant would uphold the house’s morals.

  Her fingers grasped the thin fabric, and she lifted the cotton up and over her head. From all her mother had said, Mr. Waterton demanded respect in his household. She would obey him and his rules explicitly. Even if standing before him with nothing but her drawers, stockings and boots on was a bit alarming.

  “You come from a good serving stock. Both your parents were employed by our late master and used those skills to enter grander establishments,” Mr. Waterton stated in a flat tone.

  Emily stood still and continually rubbed the tips of her fingers against her palm in an anxious gesture. Goosepins raced her skin as she glanced around the tiny, windowless room and swallowed hard. The space was cramped, and the heat from three bodies pressed in on her. Her head spun. She had fainted before in small spaces under less vexation. She inhaled a steadying breath. Not now, Emily. This is too important for your prospects. No one hires inexperienced servants, and this is your only answered inquiry. It is this or begging your existence as a cock-chafer in the streets.

  “Please remove your drawers, miss.” The doctor’s intense blue gaze lowered down her body to the tapes that held her knickers in place.

  Her drawers… The way his eyes lit when he looked at her… Distasteful. Her heart jumped against her breast, and she stared at him with wide eyes. Do as he asks, Emily. With shaking hands, she pulled the tapes about her knees and then the ones about her waist free. The white linen fell to the floor in a heap. She straightened her spine. One less bit of proper clothing to hide behind. She trembled and diverted her gaze to the same stained spot on the floor. When would this embarrassment end?

  “You are doing fine, miss.” The doctor’s cold, smooth hand grasped her wrist.

  Her muscles flinched. Stay still, Emily. His touch was as icy as the ghostly illusion she wished he could be.

  His fingertips pressed to the underside, and he looked down at his etched silver pocket watch. His thick, golden hair fell in ringlets covering his stunning blue eyes.

  Emily swallowed hard. Here she stood before an oddly striking man her own age as he inspected her as if she was a broodmare he wished to breed his stallion to. She inhaled a steadying breath. A mix of clean honey soap and eucalyptus waved as if mist between them. Oh, but he smelled good. Stay focused on the task. You should be thinking of why this kind of scrutiny is necessary for a position as maid. She was hired to clean the pots, for gracious sake. A hasty check of her virtue was all that was appropriate, even if a bit humiliating. This kind of inspection seemed inordinate.

  “You shall follow Miss Lamber in her daily activities. Those activities shall include washing the linens, cleaning the pots and, when requested, doing anything the master, his sons, or guests ask of you. Is this understood, Miss Grey?” Mr. Waterton glared at her from the other side of the ever-shrinking desk.

  She wanted this position in life. To serve. She had known this since birth. She would follow by her parents’ example and find the fulfillment she craved in service. Yet she had no inkling what to expect here.

  “Yes, sir.” Anything… Emily nodded as the word buzzed around in her ears. She was good at following orders. However, what anything could entail raised all the hairs on her neck. Her brows pinched together as the doctor’s fingers traveled up her arm to her neck. A ripple of goosepins followed in his wake, and her nipples tightened. Anything certainly included this monstrous scrutiny. This entire morning could easily pass as a fictional inspiration or a fantastical dream. Served her right for reading all those silly romance sheets about doctors and handsome rakes. Heaving bosoms and palpitating orbs. She glanced down at her pointed buds. Hers were anything but.

  “Miss Grey.” The doctor called her back calmly to reality. �
�Please sit back on the edge of the desk so I may inspect your…” His cheeks turned bright red, setting off the contrast of his piercing blue eyes. He cleared his throat. “Your nether regions.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. Her nether regions? The check of her virtue and her worth as an unwed servant. She turned her head toward the butler, who continued to scribble a note on the very desk on which she was about to display herself. He didn’t seem remotely out of sorts by the doctor’s orders. This appeared to be his wish.

  She swallowed hard. Do as they request. This is what is required for the post. She stepped backward until her bottom cheeks touched the edge of the cool desk. Her fingers gripped the curve of the carved edge, and she glanced back at the butler.

  He continued to scribble on the parchment, unmoved by the closeness of her bare bottom.

  Her hands trembled as she pushed her bottom up to do as the doctor requested. She shivered as the cold, hard surface supported her rounded bum.

  “Only a moment more, Miss Grey.” The doctor stepped toward her with a reassuring smile. “Please scoot back a bit and put your heels on the edges so your legs are spread, miss.”

  Spread…

  He wanted her to display her innocence to him. She closed her eyes, and her face blazed with heat that shot straight down her gut to the flesh between her thighs. She squirmed. It was not as if she was an unfortunate woman they were hiring as a favor. She was the daughter of two highly respected servants who Mr. Waterton had trained himself.

  “Only a moment more, miss.”

  Did he feel repeating the short duration of her humiliation would somehow make it better? She pulled her legs up and out, placed the soles of her favorite pink boots on the ungiving wooden surface and squeezed her eyes closed tighter as her fantastical dream was about to turn nightmare. Her heart pounded and she held still. She displayed herself for a man other than a future husband.

  A touch pressed to her thigh.

  She trembled in unease and fear. No one besides herself had touched her there. Certainly the thought of a doctor’s touch was less than impelling. No matter how differently striking he was, he was not the man she would wed. She bit her lip, and fever raced her skin. The flesh between her thighs tingled, and she fought the desire to close her legs on his hand.

  His fingers glided through her hairs and parted her flesh, then slid into her.

  She jerked and sucked in a startled breath. Dear God! He entered me. Was that the only way to check one’s virtue?

  In a rhythmic motion, the doctor’s finger swirled around inside her, then slid out. She let out a shaky breath. His hand touched her thigh once again, covered in moisture. “She is clean, Mr. Waterton.”

  “Clean?” The word escaped her before she could contain it.

  “Thank you, Doctor Benson.” The butler stood from the desk behind her and walked to the door.

  Doctor Benson grabbed her shift from the desk and handed it to her. His blue eyes stared into hers. “I was checking for syphilis. You are clean and appear to be completely intact.”

  She swallowed. “No…I never…that is…”

  “Miss Grey.” He smiled at her. “You will do well here. I am around often and if you ever have any questions about your health or the way of things here, please come to me. I will do all I can to enlighten and protect you.” His eyes narrowed as his fingers wrapped hers on the desk and squeezed a bit too harshly.

  “You may put your legs down now, miss.”

  Her cheeks blazed with heat. He didn’t have to say that again. Emily jumped off the desk as if the wood were possessed. She stood, pulled her shift over her head and grasped up her clothing.

  Mr. Waterton reentered the small room. His lips formed a thin, straight line. Had he ever smiled a day in his life? He stared at them. “No need to dress, Miss Grey, as Miss Lamber will fetch your service attire.” The butler tilted his head to the side and his gaze narrowed on her breasts.

  Emily quickly pressed her clothes to her chest.

  His lips turned down and then he glanced over his shoulder. “Miss Lamber, please enter.”

  A middle-aged woman with a heart-shaped face, crystal blue eyes and black hair pinned beneath a dark green cap entered. She wore an all-brown livery. Her plump lips curved into a cheery smile, and she bowed her head in respect. “Sir.”

  Emily’s shoulders relaxed. She was no longer alone among the lewd men.

  “Miss Grey will be under your tutelage.” Mr. Waterton didn’t look up and continued to write something on a piece of paper before him. “Please demonstrate all necessary to thrive and keep her position within this house.”

  “Yes, sir.” The woman nodded.

  “Get on with it.” His voice was filled with displeasure. “There is much to accomplish this day, as the master’s guest arrives shortly.” He held out the parchment to Doctor Benson.

  “Yes, sir.” Emily bowed her head and followed Miss Lamber out of the small room into the long, narrow servants’ hallway. She glanced back through the doorway and met Doctor Benson’s sapphire eyes once more. I will do all in my power to enlighten and protect you. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Don’t fret over Mr. Waterton. He has been a fixture in this house for three generations,” Miss Lamber called over her shoulder from up the hall.

  Emily flinched, then scurried down the long, narrow white hall. Photographs of the servants hung lined up as if soldiers of the present. She wished she had time to stop and linger over the souls that had passed through this house. She wished such a thing had been present when her parents worked here. If only she could see their faces again.

  “Though I don’t think he much cares for our current master.” The curves of Miss Lamber’s hips swung back and forth as she ambled sensuously down the hall. “Mr. Waterton runs the best house in Cornwall. Ask any of the servants who work here at Portage Place. We are six menservants and six womanservants. All of us find this place home.”

  Wasn’t it disrespectful for this woman to say Mr. Waterton did not like the current master? Though maybe he didn’t like anyone at all.

  Emily said not a word and simply followed Miss Lamber down the white-painted hall filled with grim faces and up a flight of equally narrow stairs.

  “You will need to dress first. The master has strict rules for all the staff attire. I will also explain some things that are necessary and expected. Mr. Waterton is strict about taking precautions to ensure your longevity here as a servant.”

  “That is kind of him.”

  “Oh…so you do speak.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Has nothing to do with being kind. If he loses you for any reason, he is out a trained servant and has to train a new. Which is most inconvenient.”

  They walked into a room tucked into the eaves, and Miss Lamber shut the door behind them. “You shall be sharing a room with me.” The room was plainly dressed with grey walls and two small windows. The furnishings consisted of one bed, one table and one clothes closet. Though it was small, it was bigger than the room she’d had at Chesterfield Hall. She would be comfortable sleeping here. She simply hoped Miss Lamber was an easy sleeper, as the bed would indeed be cramped.

  Miss Lamber walked to the scanty bed on the left side of the room. “Though we shall be sleeping together, the attire is yours alone.” She held up the brown skirt and matching shirt that had lain upon the bed. “Get dressed.”

  Along with the brown attire was the same deep green cap that Miss Lamber wore. Emily grasped the brown skirt. The softest velvet fabric met her fingers. How odd. Why would anyone want their staff wearing something so expensive while doing chores? She ran the fabric down her belly and lifted her foot, eager to step into the soft creation.

  “Oh, wait!”

  Emily stilled.

  Miss Lamber stepped forward with a blue ceramic bowl in her hand. “This part Mr. Waterton insists upon. I know it may be odd, but it truly does work. The good doctor told us how to do it.” She thrust the bowl toward Emily.
/>   Emily grasped the dish and glanced down into the ceramic vessel. Strips of cloth seeped in golden oil resided in the bowl. Why would Doctor Benson give them a bowl with oil and cloth? “What is this for?”

  “For your protection, of course.”

  Emily’s eyes widened on the bowl, then her gaze jumped to Miss Lamber’s mischievous blue eyes. A biting unease flipped her gullet. “Protection from what?”

  “You are to place one of these cloths up there, of course.” Miss Lamber pointed to the slit in her knickers.

  Emily’s lips parted as her brows came together. What?

  The corner of Miss Lamber’s lip curved up and her cheek dimpled. “Then you won’t end up leaving this place in less than a year…in the family way.”

  Emily stared at her in disbelief. “I beg your pardon, but I don’t intend to accept advances from any man while I am in servitude. The mistress of the house would dismiss me flat out, and I require this position. I am not a strumpet and intend on waiting for marriage before I give in to that base desire.”

  Miss Lamber’s brows pulled tight. “There is no mistress here. There is only the master and his sons. You do know about how a man and woman get on?”

  Emily swallowed hard. Without a mistress, the entire house’s morals could go wild. The doctor had checked her for syphilis… You will get on well here, assaulted her ears again. My gracious. Where she had simply thought him distasteful, he was entirely indecent!

  Her parents had worked here under Mr. Waterton. They had never mentioned anything scandalous about this house. Surely she could keep her dream while working here. She was certain no matter how different Portage Place was, learning to be a good maid in this post would set her on a good path in life. She would gain experience. But what exactly did Miss Lamber mean? She needed to know more.

  Emily’s cheeks grew warm, and she swallowed hard. Ask, Emily. Ask! “Yes, of course I know about a diddle. B-but what does that have to do with working here?”