As Mary left the room, confused and dazed, her Master leaned back in his seat. Stroking his moustache, he inhaled the lingering scent of her from his fingers. He knew that this young woman would prove an interesting diversion. It had been a long time since he had found a maid with a sensuality to match his own. She may have been an innocent, untouched, but now he knew that she would want to explore, that she would be whoever he wanted her to be, do whatever he wanted her to do. He thought back over all the women he had possessed, many of them maids from this House. Only one, he considered, came close to matching Mary's fervour. Strange, he thought, that one had had the same tall stature, the same wealth of long hair the colour of sun-kissed wheat....
Meanwhile, Mary made her way down to the kitchens where she knew Cook would be waiting for her with a list of duties. She felt a deep hunger, a longing to finish what her Master had started, a need to reach that peak of pleasure that he had cruelly denied her. But she had no time; her duties were endless, even minutes spent in the privy were begrudged, but she didn't think she could wait until nightfall and the silence of her attic room. Luck was on her side today, however, as Cook laid out her errands for the day.
She was to take a packed lunch down to the far pasture where Mr Brook, the chief groom and the stable lads were exercising the horses. They knew lunch was coming; she was to set off without delay. It was a long walk, at least a mile and difficult going in winter, but Mary welcomed the diversion. She knew she had to pass through a small copse of trees before reaching the pasture-that would afford her the privacy she needed. She fetched a warm cloak and hefted the baskets that Cook had packed-pastries, cooked meat, cheese and bread. Setting off at a brisk pace, bright in her red cloak, she enjoyed the walk. The day was cold but the winter sun was bright and she relished the chance to be out in the clean crisp air. She couldn't take her mind off her master's behaviour that morning. Why had he stopped? Was that her punishment? She could feel the moisture still between her legs, and she speeded up, a desire to touch herself there growing stronger. Reaching the small wood, she soon found a clearing created by the felling of a huge oak. The trunk lay neglected, and this was perfect seating for her. She was warm after her walk, and didn't feel the cold as she slowly lifted her petticoats and began to fumble in her underclothes.
Unbeknown to Mary, Mr Brook the groom had sent one of his lads to meet her. He knew the maids sometimes had funny ideas about the wood and, being a thoughtful man, he dispatched Jack, the youngest stable boy, to guide the maid through the trees. Jack had spotted her red cloak from afar and had altered direction to meet her. Jack was a quiet boy, only 19, but good with the horses: he claimed gypsy ancestry and knew plant lore, curing them where others had failed.
From the direction the girl in the red cloak had taken, Jack knew she was headed for the oak clearing and made his way there, grumbling a little at being away from his beloved horses.
