About face, Cook, lift your skirts.

"You're the mistress of the house now," Cook said. "It's your privilege to change your mind." She lowered her voice. "And you kiss better than Lady Catherine ever did." Carlotta's eyes shone in her broad rosy face.

Lucy felt moist between her legs, swaying unsteadily as the train carriage rumbled under her feet. "The mistress," Lucy said. There was no one in the narrow train corridor but the two of them. Lucy took a deep breath. "Cook, about face, lift your skirts," she said.

"Miss Lucy, did I hear you right?" Chop-chop said.

"Turn round, lift your skirts, and spread your bum," Lucy said. Her face warmed with anxious excitement and a warm shiver ran through her. She was the mistress. She could just tell Cook, and she would do it.

Cook smiled, a broad crack opening in her round pink face. "Gladly, my lady," she said.

Carlotta's cheerful assent and broad grin almost made Lucy laugh and tell Cook to stop, that Lucy was just teasing, all in fun, but the instant passed.

Carlotta turned round, pulled up her skirts behind, and lay a palm on each fat bare buttock. She bent deeply forward, spreading her buttocks to display herself at Lucy's command.

Lucy's eyes widened as she looked upon Cook's bared parts and her heart thumped. Just as Cook had said, she had good fat wet lips of a pinky-brown color framing a deeply pink opening, the wet inner lips nestled between two fleshy pillows with sparse velvety hair. Lucy imagined Lady Catherine eating from Carlotta's fat wet split, right there, licking those lips, that pearl. Lucy had seen Lady C eating from her Sapphic friends' Venusian folds, so there was little more to imagine. Lucy's breath came deep and fast as she regarded Cook's most intimate parts, displayed for her as Lucy herself yielded to Edmund's lusts, though Cook had fended off Edmund's attempts with stubbornness and guile, to her quiet glee. Cook's wet folds were a-tremble with the motions of the train carriage, and her soft rear curves jiggled under Lucy's gaze.

Lucy took a slow breath. Carlotta's woman-scent tickled her nose.

"Cook, I can see why Lady Catherine favoured you," Lucy said. "Your lips are lush. Lovely. I want to see them again. Perhaps with a mirror for you to see." Fixing the prospect of Cook's female parts in her mind, Lucy sighed. "Please cover yourself now."

But I can see them again, Lucy thought. Anytime I wish, almost, as long as she works for me. Not that I should.

Cook arranged her skirts and stood. "You're a good 'un, Miss Lucy, for an upstairs sort. Shall I tell Hawkins you'll be wanting to inspect him too?"

Lucy laughed. "Oh Cook," she said. "No, I needn't embarrass him further."

It had been quite the surprise for Lucy and Cook to open the door upon Old Netherwood's underbutler with his prick socketed in the railway conductor's arse. For the two men, the surprise had brought on their discharges, the conductor's erotic salute caught in a pocket-handkerchief followed by Hawkins' flurry of thrusts and cannonade into the conductor's bum. With Lucy and Cook watching.

Lucy continued, "We intruded. Let us treat him with kindness and grace. I shall apologize if I can find the right moment. After all, we'll need his help with sorting Old Netherwood."

The two of them re-entered the compartment they were sharing with Mr. Ruddigore Fitch, half-drowsing over his Times, and returned his electric torch. Chop-chop seated herself and checked her kitchen knives, which she would not suffer to be packed in a traveling trunk.

In a few minutes there was a tap on the compartment door audible over the rumble and rattle of the train.

"Miss Lucy," Hawkins called.