"Her ladyship would kiss up on my parts."

Lucy paused with her hand on the compartment door, wishing to complete the conversation away from their compartment-mate, Mister Fitch, who had been so good as to lend her his electric torch.

Lucy looked directly at Cook. "I had a legacy from Lady Catherine as well. For certain intimate services. You may feel free to speak without disrespecting her memory. What was your special connection to Lady Catherine?"

"Intimate services, ma'am?" the stout cook said. "You mean tossing off her ladyship and helping with her lady friends? She had me do it a bit, but these hands aren't deft like yours. Mostly she would lick my cleft. Said I had good fat wet lips. I was well content to spread my split for her ladyship, as it kept his lordship off me, and kept her ladyship off my scullery maids. Right distracting it is, they blush and get all in a tizzy about such. Better it was me when she couldn't see her lady friends. It would be luncheon in her sun room, then 'about face, bend over Cook!', up with my skirts, her ladyship kissing up on my parts till I was up over the top and then back to work."

Lucy was startled at Cook's directness and by the image of Cook bent over, holding open her broad bum cheeks for Lady Catherine's Sapphic delectation. But Lucy had instructed Cook to speak freely. Lucy cleared her throat. "I see," she said.

"I was wondering, Miss Lucy," Chop-chop said. "Begging your pardon, are you partial to lady friends like her ladyship? Or gen'l'men? Since you're the mistress of Old Netherwood, that would be something for you to arrange."

Lucy looked up at the ceiling of the narrow train corridor. She hadn't given it much thought, but Cook's question helped her see herself in a new light, as a mistress making decisions for herself, as well as for the estate and the family.