It was 6:30 when I scurried down the hall way of ‘Rochester Manor, pining my white starched hat in my hair.

“You’re late!” was the greeting I received as I entered the kitchen: the smell of freshly cooked bacon emanating through the air.

I gave a curtsey and apologised to Miss Winchester the house cook who I knew had had it in for me from the day whence I had arrived some 2 months prior. Any excuse to get me fired would, I had no doubt, not gone unnoticed and would be recorded within her mind for future ammunition!

“I beg pardon Miss but…”

Before I could finish the old bat raised one of her roughly scaled hands... “There will be NO BUTS in my kitchen young lady! Now clean these pans before I report you to the Master. You’ll be on your arse and out of this post before his Lordship has finished his breakfast, make no bones about it my girl!”

Having already received two warnings recording my poor time keeping and told on more than one occasion to ‘buck up my ideas’ I knew cook was probably right. But the thought of not being allowed to serve the young Master again brought tears to my sore eyes as I scrubbed the dishes waiting for my attention. The house was run by Master Fletcher who, since divorcing the Mistress 8 months ago was a changed man. A happier, sprightlier figure compared to that which moped around the grounds of the manor rather down trodden and pitiful. Now a different person altogether, which has led to his exacting demands and higher standards from his staff.

Expecting tidiness, efficiency and punctuality! I got on with him fairly well; however, it was his son, the young Master Richard to whom my main allegiances laid and who I would miss most dearly.

Day dreaming away while I scrubbed I didn’t hear the door open and cook come up behind me. “Finished yet?”

I froze as I could feel her icy stare stabbing the back of my head. “It’s 7:30! Take the young Masters tray up to his room... now!”

I stared at the wall above the crock sink. My hands and arms covered in soapy water and a smile creped nervously across my face. I felt my cheeks redden and excitement well up inside me at the prospect of taking the tray to the Masters room!

From the moment my fingers gripped the wooden handles on the tray they started to shake. I climbed the large staircase leading to the second floor and counted every one of the 30 stairs… with excitement and dread… a strange mixture of emotions.

I was going to see the handsome Master to which I had secretly pledged my love to over and over again while lying in the dark of my small bedroom down in the servant’s quarters. Yet dreaded the prospect of him dismissing me from his father’s service after being joyfully informed by the old battle axe in the kitchen that she ad already informed him of my tired moment of unforgivable laziness.

As I approached the fourth door from the top of the staircase I couldn’t work out which of my emotions was winning. Were my legs turning to jelly because I was to be dismissed or because the most beautiful man in all of Wiltshire and the surrounding counties was behind that door… the door I was about to go through? I’d passed that door on numerous occasions imagining being his lover. Being allowed to go in there anytime I liked and able, without fear of distain to feel his arms holding me tight to his chest as I wished him a good morning. Feel his kisses caress me. A dream I played out several times in my mind before I finally fell asleep.

The door looked twice the size it really was as the brown oak stretched up in front of my tiny frame and I ran my vision over all the lines of grain and knots in the wood as my heart pounded against the wall of my chest. I placed the tray on the small table and hesitantly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Oh that voice! Strong and Masterful!

I turned the handle and pushed open the great door, not daring to look inside before picking up the tray and walking in.

I could sense his presence in the room. Hear the rustle of the bed sheets and smell the scented aroma from his body.

“Ahh breakfast! Good. I’m starving.”

I dare not look up as I carefully carried the tray across the warm carpeted floor, the sunlight just peaking through the half closed curtains allowing a slant of light to ride across the vast space in front of me before the king sized four poster. But I was conscious that his eyes were on me.

I still didn’t look up as I nervously placed the tray across the sheets where his lap would be positioned, just catching a glimpse of his strong hand as it came across to take hold of the handle.

“Thank you Meggy.” My real name was Megan but he playfully called me ‘Meggy’ which suited me fine. As far as I was concerned he could call me anything so long as he called me something!

I stepped back and, keeping my eyes lowered, gave a curtsey. “Thank you Sir.”

“No, thank you… looks delightful.”

“Well it was cook wot made it Sir”. I paused then remembered to curtsey again…. “Sir”.

“Ahh, yes cook. I’ve seen cook this morning Meggy and she’s had one or two things to say about you.”

Hear it comes

“Yes Sir.” Another curtsey – My only hope is to be as polite as I possibly can.

He picked up the tray and I could hear his body stretch as he put it carefully to one side. He flung open the bed sheets and I had to quickly lower my gaze yet further as I was aware that the Master was not clothed. His legs swung round and his feet touched the floor. Right where I was focusing my vision. My emotions were running away and I felt like I was going to cry but held my nerve as best I could. The last thing he wanted first thing in the morning was a blubbering wreck of a wench in his room. I would do anything for this man but he didn’t know it and now he was going to get rid of me. Throw me away!

His hands held on to the edge of the bed as I could feel his head and his gaze come closer to me.

“Well? What have you to say?” At twenty-five he was a year younger than me but his Masterful, confident manners and matter of fact tone to his bright voice were more affecting then even his fathers. His voice wasn’t aggressive. Wasn’t hurting. But still took command of any conversation leaving you in no doubt who was in charge.

I started to sniffle, I couldn’t stop myself. His power far too much for met to handle and the whole sense of the fear of losing this valuable position was too much to take. I fell to my knees and the sniffles turned to tears as I felt my eyes cloud over with water. I dropped to my knees completely abandoning any thoughts of self control and sobbed as I grabbed his hand.

“But Master Richard! Please don’t dismiss me! I want to work for you!” I held his hand against my forehead and sobbed uncontrollably now. “I’ll do anything for you!”

“Ssshhh.” The Master’s other palm came round behind my head and started to stroke my hair, his fingers flicking the odd strand that was out of place back round my ear.

Part 2

The young Master’s hand felt warm and comforting as he held my chin and lifted my head to meet his gaze. His kindness made me start to cry again, tears running down my cheeks which he used his thumb to dry. “No one said anything about dismissing you did they?”
“No Sir”. My heart was still beating fast and my chest heaved with my uncontrollable bawling that I felt ashamed to be carrying on with. “But cook said that I would be out before his Lordship finished his breakfast Sir”. I lowered my head and sobbed at his feet, even more shamed at how helpless I felt in front of His Lordship’s son.

“Well now”, said the handsome air… “I suggest you clean yourself up before you get back down to the kitchen don’t you? Or Miss Winchester will have more reason to chastise you, don’t you think Meggy?”

Realizing just how silly I must have looked, down on the floor sobbing, I stood up, patted my apron down and curtseyed while gulping back any more roaming tears that were looking to fall. “Yes Sir. Please forgive me Sir. I would not want to loose my job with you Sir. Honestly I wouldn’t Sir” Again I sniffled and wanted to cry but held out in time to hear his lovely voice…
“Well lets see how you get on eh? And I’ll have a word with Miss Winchester. Now back downstairs with you!”
“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir!” I hurriedly composed myself and backed out of the room finding time for another curtsey on the way before closing the huge door.

I skipped down the central staircase and along the corridor to the kitchen when a voice behind me bellowed… “Don’t run girl!”
“Sorry Miss Winchester”. However I couldn’t conceal a smile.
“And what are you looking so smug about young lady?”
“Nothing Miss Winchester.”
“Then take these trays back to the kitchen. I’ve spoken to His Lordship about you and so I wouldn’t look so smug if I was you. He’ll soon take that smirk off your face!”
My heart sank. The smile which ran across my face now faded and my bottom lip started to quiver. Without taking the trays from cook’s outstretched arms I ran through the kitchen and out to the garden, hiding in the corner of the mansion wall and cried. His Lordship would no doubt have overall say in the staff here and if cook was right then I would be out the gates in no time.

Later that afternoon, having resigned myself to my fate, I busied myself with the chores of the day and re-dressing the beds with bright new sheets. His Lordship demanded new sheets every month with a twice weekly wash that kept us all busy on Wednesdays and Sundays. While working in his very own bedroom the Master of the House himself popped his head round the door…
“Megan”.
His voice made me jump and I turned round quickly to see him staring at me from the doorway. At once I bowed my head and curtseyed, “Your Lordship”. I stood with my hands in front of me and head still lowered, staring down at my black polished shoes, expecting the worst.
“I want to see you at 2 in my study.”
“Yes My Lord.” My head felt light and my mouth went dry as I knew I was in trouble. I knew I would no longer be employed in this beautiful mansion again. And I knew I would no longer see the beautiful Master Richard, or take him his breakfast, or fold his shirts or or…..



As 2 O’clock approached I made my way up the stairs, the same wide stairs I had cleaned and polished only this morning to the Master’s study on the second floor. I had spent the last half hour sitting on my bed wondering what he was going to say and how he was going to dismiss me. I knew that Master Richard was meeting his bride-to-be in the town for lunch and only myself and the butler were still in the house. I stood outside the door with the smell of polished wood and freshly cut flowers which were standing tall in a vase on the chest-o-draws against the corridor wall to the right of the study’s door. There was hardly a sound except for the occasional whistle from a bird in the garden and, if I really strained my ears, a muffled rustling inside the study itself. Clearly His Lordship was waiting for me. Maybe he was thinking about what to say. Or maybe he didn’t really care and was too busy writing one of his letters to the local organisations he supported. At exactly 2 O’clock the old father clock chimed, echoing through the quiet deserted household then finishing with the two chimes signalling the hour. I swallowed hard. My legs almost giving way as every bone in my body started to shake with the thought of seeing this man. His Lordship. Tall. Strong. Certainly stronger and more fearsome than he was 8 months ago. I was pleased at the time the Mistress left as it seemed to reignite something hidden inside this, at the time, weak willed man. A man of such wealth yet little backbone. The divorce doing him the power of good in terms of his own self esteem, though he didn’t think that at the time. But now? Now I wanted to run away from him. I wanted to be somewhere else other than at the door of this new found authoritarian.

I stepped forward and, holding my quivering hand up, paused before knocking, almost apologetically, on the oak.

“Come in.” The voice was faint and hard to hear but I new my role and turned the handle.

As I opened the door and stepped inside I was shocked and taken aback by who was standing there behind the huge desk that was in front of the fireplace.

“Ahhh Meggy. Come in. Shut the door. Father has left it to me to deal with you!”