Ending 7 (Martha)

The farewell dinner unfolded with the same warmth that had come to define the final day at Kingsmere Hall.

The tension of previous days had faded.

Gentlemen laughed more freely. Servants smiled a little more openly.

Everyone knew that by this time tomorrow, the house would once again be quiet - and alcohol certainly played its part.

From your place behind Sir Edward's chair, you attended to your duties as you always had.

Edward, however, seemed unusually relaxed.

When the conversation around him drifted away from business and towards lighter subjects, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Thomas."

"Yes, sir?"

"I believe you've earned a glass of wine down here alongside me."

You blinked.

"Sir?"

"I shan't have my valet remembering Kingsmere Hall solely from behind my chair."

A nearby footman quietly offered you a glass.

Edward raised his own.

"To a successful week."

You smiled.

"To a successful week."

The wine disappeared more quickly than you intended.

Edward noticed.

"I had suspected you weren't much of a drinker."

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"That only means the first glass works better."

You both laughed.

The conversation gradually became less one-sided.

For perhaps the first time since entering Sir Edward's service, you found yourselves speaking almost as equals.

He asked about your childhood. About your family.

About the sort of life you had imagined before entering service.

You answered honestly.

He listened with genuine interest.

"I sometimes forget," Edward admitted. "That valets had regular lives before they became valets."

"We did, sir."

"Well I'm pleased to hear it."

A warm laugh escaped both of you.

As the evening wore on, movement near the service entrance briefly caught your eye.

Martha.

She was carrying a large tray between the kitchens and the dining room.

As she passed behind your chair, she slowed ever so slightly.

"So." She spoke quietly enough that only you could hear. "They've finally let you have a drink."

"It would appear so."

She gave you a quick grin.

"I was beginning to think Sir Harrington kept you chained to that chair."

Edward looked up.

"Miss Green."

Martha straightened immediately.

"Sir."

"I hope my valet hasn't been neglecting his work."

She looked from Edward to you before folding her arms.

"Oh, he's unbearable."

Your eyebrows rose.

"He keeps helping everyone. I've told him several times it's a terrible habit."

Edward laughed.

"I'm afraid that's unlikely to change."

"So I've noticed."

Martha's grin returned.

"Still..."

She looked directly at you.

"...I suppose I could forgive him."

"And why is that?"

"Because he is making this week a little less boring."

Before you could answer, another servant called her name from the kitchens.

Martha rolled her eyes dramatically.

"I'd best rescue the kitchen before someone decides to blame me for everything."

She started to walk away.

Then glanced back over her shoulder.

"Don't disappear before I get another chance to steal you."

With that, she vanished through the service door.

Edward watched her go before looking back at you.

"I can certainly see why you've taken a liking to Miss Green."

Heat crept into your face.

"I don't know what you mean, sir."

"No?" He smiled into his wine. "I don't believe either of you has looked in the other's direction fewer than twenty times this evening."

You opened your mouth to protest.

Then thought better of it.

Edward chuckled quietly.

"I rather think she suits you."

He took another sip of wine.

"And judging by the way she looks at you..."

"...I'd wager the feeling is mutual."

A little while later, the last course had been cleared and the gentlemen had begun drifting into smaller conversations around the room.

Edward finished the last of his wine before setting the glass aside.

"Thomas."

"Yes, sir?"

"I've spoken enough business for one week."

He rose from his chair.

"Come with me."

You followed him from the dining room and into the quieter library.

A small fire still burned in the grate.

Edward poured two modest glasses of brandy before handing one to you.

"I've never thanked you properly."

"There is no need, sir."

"There is."

He leaned comfortably against the mantelpiece.

"You've served me loyally."

"You've never once given me reason to doubt you."

"I hope I've earned your trust."

"You have."

He smiled faintly.

"I'm glad."

The conversation drifted naturally from work to life beyond it.

Edward spoke of Harrington Manor.

Of the responsibilities waiting at home.

Of the sort of household he hoped to build one day.

"I've often wondered," he admitted, "whether a gentleman chooses his household..."

He had a dreamy look on his face.

"...or whether, over time, the right people simply find him."

Before you could answer, a knock sounded at the library door.

It opened a moment later.

Martha stood on the threshold carrying a silver tray with a fresh decanter and three clean glasses.

"Oh."

She stopped.

"I didn't realise you were still in here."

Edward smiled.

"I was beginning to think we'd have to fetch another bottle ourselves."

"You'd probably have gotten lost on your way to the cellar."

"I've no doubt."

She crossed the room and set the tray down.

As she turned to leave, Edward spoke again.

"Miss Green."

She looked back.

"Wouldn’t you care join us for a few minutes?"

She blinked.

"Me?"

"I've spent the week hearing how indispensable you are. I should like the opportunity to decide for myself."

For perhaps the first time since you'd met her, Martha looked genuinely uncertain.

"I'm not sure Cook would approve."

"I imagine Lord Ashcombe outranks Cook."

A reluctant smile spread across her face.

"I suppose he does."

Edward poured a third glass.

"There."

"Now we're properly acquainted."

Martha accepted the drink, though she still looked faintly amused by the situation.

"Well..."

She glanced between the two of you.

"This is certainly the strangest end to a hunting party I've ever had."

Edward laughed.

"I rather hope it won't be the last its kind."

The three of you settled into easy conversation, the formality that had separated gentleman, valet and servant throughout the week seeming, for one quiet hour, to matter remarkably little.

The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows across the leather-bound volumes lining the walls. Edward swirled his brandy, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes.

Edward leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking "You know, [reader:first_name]... you've been my valet for what, three years now? And I realized tonight I don't know half as much about your love life as I ought to."

Martha, perched on the arm of a nearby sofa, stifled a laugh behind her hand. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked between you and your master.

Martha settled into the armchair opposite Edward, crossing her legs with deliberate slowness. The movement drew her skirt against her thighs, and she made no effort to adjust it. She took the glass Edward offered her, you noticed their fingers brushing just a moment longer than necessary.

Martha took a sip of brandy, eyes meeting yours over the rim "Aye, [reader:first_name], I'm curious too. You've been all propriety and manners since you arrived at Kingsmere earlier this week. Never once caught you looking where you shouldn't." a pause, her grin turning wicked "'Course, that probably just means you're better at hiding it than most men."

Edward chuckled lowly, setting his glass on the side table "She has a point, you know. I've seen you handle my affairs with discretion, my wardrobe with precision, my correspondence with efficiency... but I've never seen you handle a woman." he tilted his head, studying you "Unless Martha here has had the pleasure and you have been keeping secrets from me?"

A warm flush crept up your neck at Edward's words. Martha's grin widened, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

Martha set her glass down, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, giving you an unhindered view of the soft swell of her cleavage "Oh, I've seen our [reader:first_name] in action, Sir Edward. This morning, as a matter of fact." her eyes flick to you, dancing with amusement "He was admitting something to me, wasn’t he? And we made a deal isn’t that right, [reader:first_name]?"

Edward raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his features "Is that so? And here I thought my valet was all business." he took a long sip of brandy, studying you over the rim "Tell me, Martha, did he use that low voice of his? The one he uses when he's trying to be reassuring?"

Martha let out a throaty laugh "He did indeed. And a hand on my shoulder, just so." she demonstrated on the empty air, her fingers curling possessively

A knowing look passed between Martha and Edward—too quick, too familiar. Your chest tightened. She was going to tell him.

Martha's grin softened into something warmer, more deliberate "What he admitted was just that he's a man with eyes, Sir Edward. Nothing more." she picked up her brandy again, holding it but not drinking "Told me he'd seen things a gentleman probably shouldn't mention to a lady."

Edward's eyebrow lifted, curiosity piqued "Seen things?" he looked at you, then back at Martha, a slow smile spreading "Martha, my dear, you're going to have to be more specific. My valet is a man of few words, and I suspect he'd rather chew his own tongue off than elaborate."

The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. Martha set her glass down, rose, and walked towards the window—but her path took her behind your chair, close enough that the rustle of her skirts brushed against your shoulder.

Martha stopped behind you, her voice dropping lower "He watched, Sir Edward. With pretty. quiet eyes of his." a pause, her fingers lightly grazing the back of your chair "last night he was watching, through my window."

Edward's expression shifted—not anger, but something more intrigued. He set his glass down with a deliberate click, studying you with renewed interest.

"Through your window, Martha? Now that is a detail you omitted this morning." his eyes never left you "[reader:first_name], I've always known you to be a man of impeccable discretion. But discretion and voyeurism are rather different ideas, aren't they?"

Martha's hand came to rest on your shoulder, her thumb tracing a slow circle against the fabric of your coat. The warmth of her palm bled through.

Martha's voice came soft, close to your ear "Don't be too hard on him, Sir Edward. I didn't exactly draw the curtains, did I?" a pause, her breath warm against your neck "And he continued looking. Long enough that I felt him there, even after I'd blown out the candle."

The firelight caught the amber liquid in Edward's glass as he swirled it, considering. When he spoke again, his tone had dropped an octave.

Edward leaned forward, elbows on his knees "And what, precisely, did you see through that window, [reader:first_name]?"

Martha's fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder, her body tense with anticipation. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the crackling fire and the distant hoot of an owl somewhere in the grounds.

“I… I can’t begin to describe it. Such feelings… I… I couldn’t help myself.”

Martha's fingers remained warm on your shoulder, her breath still near your ear. Edward watched you with thoughtful eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Edward’s lips "Couldn't help yourself... now that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear from my impeccably proper valet." he took a sip of brandy, savoring it "Tell me, [reader:first_name]... when you watched her through that window, what did you feel? What did you want to do?"

Martha's hand slid from your shoulder to your neck, her fingers playing with the short hairs there. She moved around to lean against the arm of your chair, close enough that her hip brushed your arm.

Martha’s voice was low, teasing "Aye, [reader:first_name], don't hold back now. We're all friends here, aren't we?" she glanced at Edward, then back at you "Sir Edward and I have no secrets between us tonight."

Edward set his glass down, steepling his fingers "Indeed. Martha and I have had... a very enlightening conversation while you were seeing to the dinner arrangements." his eyes met yours, calm and assured "She told me about your arrangement. I must say, I was rather flattered she trusted me with it."

A sudden knock at the library door made all three of you stiffen. Martha's hand withdrew from your neck as if burned. Edward was on his feet in an instant, smoothing his waistcoat with practiced ease.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and an older gentleman in hunting attire poked his head in "Harrington! There you are. We're organizing a game of whist in the drawing room—care to join?"

Edward's smile was effortless, betraying nothing "Ah, Lord Whitmore. I was just about to turn in, actually. The hunting has quite exhausted me." he gestured with the brandy "Do give my regards to the others, won't you?"

The older gentleman's eyes flicked to you and Martha, a smirk crossing his weathered face, but he simply nodded and retreated, pulling the door closed behind him.

Silence hung in the room for a long moment. Martha let out a breath she'd been holding.

Martha whispered, her hand returning to rest on your shoulder "That was close. Your master's quarters, you said?"

Edward moved to the window, peering through the curtain to ensure the corridor was clear "Yes. Being a nobleman has its perks. Even though I am just a guest here my bedroom is by far the biggest amongst us three—we'll have complete privacy there." he turned back, his grey-blue eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity "[reader:first_name], bring the brandy. Martha, if you'd follow at a distance—say, thirty seconds after we leave."

He crossed to you, pausing to place a hand on your arm—a rare gesture of intimacy from employer to servant.

Edward's voice was voice low, meant only for you "I trust this is agreeable to you? If you'd rather retire, say the word and no offence will be taken."

Martha watched you both, her hazel eyes soft in the firelight, her lips curved in a patient, expectant smile.

“Lead the way sir”, you mumbled.

A flicker of approval crossed Edward's features—warm, genuine. He gave your arm a brief squeeze before releasing you, then crossed to the sideboard to retrieve the bottle of brandy.

Edward paused at the door, glancing back with a hint of mischief softening his usual composure "Thirty seconds, Martha. And try not to look like a woman sneaking to a gentleman's bedchamber."

Martha snorted, dropping into a theatrical curtsy "Wouldn't dream of it, Sir Edward. I'll just be a maid heading to the kitchens for a late-night biscuit."

A low chuckle escaped Edward as he pulled the door open, gesturing for you to follow. The corridor beyond was dim, lit only by the occasional wall lamp. His footsteps were measured, unhurried—the pace of a man with every right to be where he was going.

You fell into step behind him, the familiar weight of your position settling around you even as your pulse quickened. The hallways of Kingsmere Hall were quiet at this hour, the last of the hunting party either retired or gathered in the drawing room. Portraits of stern-faced ancestors watched you pass, their painted eyes seeming to judge.

Edward's quarters were at the end of the east wing—a spacious corner room with windows overlooking the gardens. He produced a key, unlocked the door, and held it open for you with a courteous gesture.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, Edward set the brandy on a small table near the fireplace "Make yourself comfortable, [reader:first_name]. There's no pretense here tonight."

The room was as he said, the biggest—heavy mahogany furniture, a four-poster bed draped in deep green velvet, a roaring fire already laid in the fireplace. The flames cast long shadows across the ceiling.

Edward loosened his cravat with deliberate slowness, watching you.

Edward’s voice was softer now, stripped of formal distance "You've served me faithfully for three years. You've seen me at my worst—hungover, irritable, grieving." a pause "But I don't think you've ever seen me like this."

Footsteps in the corridor. Light, quick. A soft knock at the door—three short taps.

Martha.

A soft creak sounded as Edward crossed the room and pulled the door open. Martha slipped through, cheeks flushed from the cool corridor air. The door clicked shut, and the world narrowed to the three of you inside.

Edward turned the lock with a quiet metallic click "Coast clear?"

Martha leaned against the door, her eyes scanning the room with barely contained delight "Clear as a winter morning. One of the footmen passed me near the staircase, but I had my apron up over my head like I was rubbing sleep from my eyes." a quick grin "He wished me goodnight and moved on."

Edward poured three fresh measures of brandy. He handed one to you first, your fingers brushing his—then one to Martha. His fingers lingered a moment when he passed her the glass.

Edward raised his glass, his eyes moving between you and Martha "To unexpected evenings."

Martha held your gaze over the rim of her glass as she drank, swallowing slow and deliberate before licking a stray drop from her lip "Mmm. Unexpected evenings indeed."

The fire popped. Martha lowered herself onto the edge of the four-poster bed. Her skirts gathered on the rich velvet bedspread, the candlelight tracing the shape of her strong thighs and full hips.

Her voice was like honey "So then, [reader:first_name]. Sir Edward's quarters. A fire. Brandy." she lifted one hand, counting off fingers "We've got everything we could need, haven't we?" her eyes flicked to Edward "But there's an order to these things, isn't there, Sir Edward? A proper way to go about it?"

Edward set his glass down on the mantlepiece, a thoughtful tilt to his head "Manners are what separate us from the beasts, Martha." he moved to stand near the bed, not quite sitting, looking down at her "But I find... evenings like these call for a loosening of certain formalities, don't you think?"

Martha reached up, catching the edge of Edward's waistcoat, tugging him down to sit beside her. The mattress dipped under their combined weight.

Martha turned to Edward, her face inches from his, voice a whisper "I wondered all through dinner what you would taste like. Brandy and something else."

Edward’s breath hitched, a crack in his composure "And what would that something else be?"

Martha's gaze dropped to his lips "I’ll find out."

She kissed him. Not a maid kissing a master, but a woman kissing a man she wanted. The firelight flickered over the line of Edward's throat as he leaned into her. One hand rose to cup Martha's jaw. He made a soft sound against her lips. He pulled back just enough to look over at you. Martha was still close, eyes closed, a slight redness to her lips.

Edward's voice was raw "[reader:first_name]. Come here." his hand reached out, palm open

Edward's hand remained extended toward you, palm open, waiting. But before you could move, Martha's fingers closed around his wrist, gently lowering his hand.

Martha shook her head slowly, a teasing glint in her hazel eyes "Ah-ah, Sir Edward. You're rushing." she released his wrist and rose from the bed in one fluid motion, crossing to where you stood "I didn't come here tonight just to be passed between gentlemen like a parcel."

She stopped before you, close enough that the heat of her body creeped through your clothing. Her hand rose, fingers grazing your jawline, turning your face toward the firelight.

Martha's voice dropped, intimate and warm "I came because I gave you an invitation this morning." her thumb traced along your lower lip, featherlight "Sir Edward is a welcome addition, make no mistake. But you're the one I've been thinking about all day, [reader:first_name]. You're the one I caught watching."

Behind her, Edward had risen, but made no move to approach. He leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed, watching with an expression of quiet fascination rather than jealousy.

Edward's voice came low, approving "She's right. I was being presumptuous." a pause "This is your evening too, [reader:first_name]. Perhaps especially yours."

Martha's other hand came to rest on your chest, palm flat against the fabric of your waistcoat. She could feel your heartbeat. A slow smile curved her lips.

Martha's eyes held yours, unblinking "So. Here we are. Just as I said we'd be." her fingers curled into the fabric of your cravat, tugging gently "Tell me, [reader:first_name]—what do you want? Not what you think is proper. Not what you think either of us expects." a pause, her breath warm against your lips "What do you truly want?"

“I… I don’t know”.

You blushed and Martha looked at you. You knew this was when she decided to take control of matters

A slow smile spread across Martha's lips. Her hazel eyes softened, not with disappointment, but with something hungrier—the look of a woman who had just been handed the reins and fully intended to use them.

Martha's hand slid from your chest up to the knot of your cravat, fingers working the fabric loose with practiced ease "That's alright, love. Not knowing is just an invitation for someone else to decide for you."

The cravat came free, and she let it fall to the floor. Her eyes never left yours as she began working on the buttons of your waistcoat, slow and deliberate, one by one.

Edward moved to the armchair by the fire, settling into it with his brandy "I do love watching a woman take charge."

Martha glanced over her shoulder at him, a playful smirk on her lips "Then watch, Sir Edward. And learn." she turned back to you, sliding your waistcoat from your shoulders "I've been thinking about what's under all these fine clothes all day."

The waistcoat joined the cravat on the floor. Her fingers moved to your shirt buttons, working them open with surprising gentleness. Each brush of her knuckles against your skin sent a shiver through you.

Martha's voice dropped to a near-whisper "You've got a good chest. I could tell, even through all that fabric. Broad shoulders." she pushed the shirt open, baring your chest to the firelight "A man who works, but also has a brain. That's a rare combination."

Her palms flattened against your chest, warm and rough from years of kitchen work. She traced the lines of muscle slowly, deliberately, mapping you with her hands.

Martha's eyes met yours, dark in the firelight "I'm going to take my time with you, [reader:first_name]. Good thing this isn’t the first time I’ve handled more than one gentleman." She turned to Sir Edward. “Get over here, Sir.”

Behind her, Edward took a slow sip of his brandy, his grey-blue eyes reflecting the flames. Then he slowly moved towards the two of you.

A ripple of tension moved through the room as Edward rose from the armchair in one unhurried motion. He crossed the space between you with measured steps, the firelight catching the angles of his face, until he came to a stop just behind Martha. One hand lifted, and he gently brushed a stray strand of auburn hair from her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear.

His voice was low, aimed somewhere between you both "I am at your disposal, Miss Green. For tonight, you set the pace."

Martha let out a low hum of approval, not turning to look at him. Her hands remained on your chest, fingers splayed, feeling the beat of your heart under her palms. She held your gaze, holding you in place with nothing but the weight of her attention.

She let the silence draw out before speaking, each word measured, deliberate "I told myself this morning, after you came to me, that I'd have you both before the night was done. Here we are." her thumbs trace small circles against your skin "Now we just need to decide which of you gets my attention first, don't we?"

Behind her, Edward's hand slid to rest on the curve of her hip, a silent claim. He did not pull her closer, just kept his palm there, a warm presence at the edge of her. Martha's eyes flickered at the touch, a small, pleased smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispers "You've been watching me all week, [reader:first_name]. I want to know what you'd do if I gave you permission to stop watching and act."

She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her hands sliding from your chest down to your waist, fingers hooking into the waistband of your trousers. She tugged you forward an inch, closing the last of the space between you. The fire crackled and spit. The room smelled of woodsmoke, brandy, and her lavender soap.

Martha's fingers curled into your waistband, holding you there, suspended in the space between anticipation and action. She let out a long, slow breath as if savoring the moment. Behind her, Edward watched with heavy-lidded eyes, his hand sliding from her hip around to her stomach, pulling her back against his chest.

Martha pressed her lips together, her breath warm on your lips as she spoke.

"Sir Edward. I want his clothes off."

Her hands went to work, tugging your trousers loose. Edward reached around her to help, his fingers brushing hers—a brief moment of teamwork. In the firelight, you stood between them, bare but for your undershorts, half-hard.

Martha stepped back, letting her hands fall to her own bodice. She began unlacing it with slow, deliberate movements. One eyelet at a time. The fabric loosened, and she pushed it down over her shoulders.

Martha's voice was soft and low, she slipped the dress past her shoulders, the fire catching the upward curve of her breasts "My turn."

The dress pooled at her feet. She stood in nothing but her undergarments, the thin linen doing little to hide the shape of her. The soft points of her nipples showed through the fabric. She kicked the dress aside and raised an eyebrow at you.

"Don't just stand there gaping like a landed trout, [reader:first_name]. You earned it."

The fire had burned low, casting the room in shades of amber and shadow. Martha stood before you both in her thin linen, the fabric catching the light in ways that left little to the imagination. She watched you with those sharp hazel eyes, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

Martha's voice dropped, low and commanding "Both of you. On the bed. Now."

Edward moved first, crossing to the four-poster. He settled against the headboard, his back against the carved wood, his dark eyes fixed on Martha with undisguised hunger. When you crossed the room to the bed he reached for you, his hand closing around your wrist. A gentle tug downward, compelling you to sit beside him, your body angled toward her.

Sir Edward Harrington

Edward's voice was low, rough at the edges "She's rather good at this, isn't she?"

Martha approached the bed slowly, savoring the length of the room, letting you both watch her hips sway. When she reached the edge, she climbed up, crawling on hands and knees between you, her underdress riding up her thighs.

Her voice was velvet over steel "Sir Edward. Your clothes don't suit my plans for tonight."

Edward didn't need to be told twice. His hands moved to his buttons, working them open with practiced speed. The waistcoat came off, then the shirt, baring a lean, athletic torso—the kind of body that came from years of riding and fencing rather than labor. His trousers followed, and he lay back naked against the headboard, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes. He made no move to cover himself.

Edward's hand found her shoulder, squeezing once before letting it rest there, possessive yet gentle "Better?"

Martha let her gaze travel over him—slow, appreciative, unhurried. She reached out and traced a finger down the center of his chest, following the line of dark hair that disappeared below his waist.

Her voice was a murmur, meant for both of you "Much better." her eyes flicked to you, then back to him "Now, where were we?"

The linen pooled at the corner of the bed as Martha freed herself of her last undergarments. The amber glow traced every curve—the swell of her breasts, the gentle flare of her hips, the spot of dark auburn hair between her thighs. She didn't cover herself and positioned herself between you on the bed, on all fours. She carried herself with the easy confidence of a woman who knew exactly what she was offering.

Martha’s gaze swept over both of you, approval warming her eyes as she took in Edward’s lean form and your broader, stronger build "Well now. That's a sight worth waiting for." she climbed further onto the bed, crawling toward Edward on hands and knees, her breasts swaying with the movement "Two fine gentlemen, all for me."

Edward’s hand came up to cup her face as she reached him, thumb tracing along her cheekbone with surprising tenderness. She leaned into the touch for just a moment before turning to you, reaching sideways to grasp your thigh as you sat beside Edward against the headboard.

Martha’s voice dropped to something more intimate as she arranged herself between you, one hand on Edward’s thigh, the other reaching to rest on yours "I want to feel you both at once. Edward, move to the side so I can fit between you."

He complied, settling back with his arms resting along the carved wood, watching with his eyes gone dark with lust. Martha positioned herself between Edward’s and your ankles, her front towards you both, then gestured for you to remove your underpants. The heat of the fire kissed your bare shoulders.

Edward’s voice came low, rough, his hands finding Martha’s hips "Beautiful."

Martha knelt down between you and Edward on the vast four-poster bed, the velvet bedspread bunched beneath her knees. She looked between the two of you with obvious delight, her chest rising and falling slowly.

Her hands moved simultaneously—one reaching for Edward, one for you. Her fingers closed around each of your girth, her grip warm and confident.

Martha let out a soft hum of approval as she measured you both in her hands, her thumbs tracing the length of you.

She began to stroke, slow and deliberate, her movements unhurried. Her eyes moved between your faces, watching your reactions with keen interest. The firelight caught the sheen of her skin.

Edward's head fell back against the headboard, a low groan escaping his throat "Christ, Martha…"

Martha's grin widened, her pace steady, measured. She tilted her head, watching Edward's reaction "You're both so different." her gaze flicked to you "Sir Edward here is all lean elegance. And you, [reader:first_name]..." her hand tightened slightly around you "You're built like you mean business."

Her thumbs traced circles around the heads of you both, alternating pressure, learning what made each of you twitch. Her breathing had grown heavier, her breasts rising and falling in the firelight.

Her voice was husky, her hands moving in unison "I've been thinking about this all day. Since this morning." she squeezed gently, a possessive gesture "Wondering which of you would be louder. Which of you would last longer."

Edward reached out, his hand finding her hip, pulling her closer as her strokes continued. The bed creaked softly beneath the three of you. The only sounds were the crackling embers, Martha's steady breaths, and the occasional stifled groan.

Martha leaned forward, her breasts brushing against your thighs as she spoke low, her hands never stopping their rhythm "I think I'd like to taste one of you." she looked between you both, her eyes dark with intent "Edward, lie back. [reader:first_name], stay right where you are."

Edward complied, sliding down against the pillows, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Martha released him, and shifted her weight. She crawled over to him, positioning herself between his legs, but her hand reached back to find you again, continuing her slow strokes as she lowered her head toward Edward.

Her voice came muffled, but warm "I'm going to enjoy this."

Martha lowered her head with deliberate slowness, her auburn hair spilling forward to brush against Edward's thighs. Her hand never paused its rhythm on you, her grip warm and knowing.

Edward's breath caught as her lips parted, her tongue tracing a slow, experimental line along his length. His hand found her hair, fingers threading through the loose strands, not pulling—just anchoring himself and removing her hair from her face.

Edward's voice was strained, barely above a whisper "God, Martha…"

She hummed in response, the vibration traveling through her, and Edward's hips twitched involuntarily. Her mouth worked him with a patience that spoke of experience—taking her time, learning the shape of him. Between each slow descent, she would glance up at you, holding your gaze as her hand continued its steady work on your shaft.

She released Edward with a soft, wet sound, rising onto her knees. A thin thread of saliva connected her lower lip to his tip, catching the firelight before breaking.

Martha's voice was husky, her lips swollen "You taste like I hoped you would." she turned to you fully, her hand still wrapped around you, stroking slowly "But I haven't forgotten about you, [reader:first_name]."

She crawled across the bed, her knees denting the velvet, until she was positioned in front of you. Her free hand braced against your thigh as she lowered her head. But she paused just shy of contact, her breath warm against the head of your cock.

Her eyes lifted to meet yours, sharp even in the dim light "You’re bigger... I wonder if it’ll fit all the way down."

Behind her, Edward had propped himself up on his elbows, watching with heavy-lidded eyes. His chest was still heaving, a flush creeping up his neck.

Martha shot him a look over her shoulder, but there was no real heat in it "You’ll get your turn again soon enough. Now sit back again, young man." she turned back to you, her lips brushing against the side of your shaft as she spoke.

Her hand squeezed gently, a reminder that she was in control. Her breath ghosted over you, warm and uneven. The fire popped softly. The bed creaked as Edward shifted, settling back against the pillows to watch. Martha's hazel eyes never left yours.

The heat of her breath against you was maddening—an inch from contact, suspended in anticipation. Her eyes held yours, a silent question, a dare, a promise.

Martha's lips parted, and she lowered her head in one slow, deliberate motion. The wet heat of her mouth enveloped you, her tongue pressing flat against the underside as she took you inch by inch.

A low, guttural sound escaped Edward's throat from behind her, a mixture of awe and hunger as he sat there, stroking his own length. Martha hummed around you at the noise, the vibration traveling through her lips and tongue, sending a jolt up your spine. Her hand cupped the base of you, stroking in counterpoint to the bobbing of her head.

She set a rhythm—slow, languid, savoring. Each descent took her deeper, each retreat was a deliberate tease. Her free hand braced against your thigh, fingers digging into the muscle as she found her pace.

Edward's voice came rough, strained from the head of the bed "Look at her, [reader:first_name]. What a sight."

Martha's eyes flicked up at his words, meeting yours through the firelight, her lips stretched around you. She held your gaze as she took you deeper, her throat working around the head of your cock. A soft, muffled sound escaped her—pleasure, or approval, or both.

She held you there for a long moment, her nose brushing against your lower belly, before withdrawing with agonizing slowness. Her tongue traced along the underside on the way out, and she released you with a soft, wet pop.

Martha's voice was hoarse, her lips glossy "He tastes even better than I imagined." her hand continued to stroke you slowly as she turned to look at Edward "Come here. I want you behind me."

Edward didn't hesitate. He crossed the bed on his knees, his lean form casting a shadow over both of you. He positioned himself behind Martha, his hands finding her hips as she turned to face you fully, her breasts brushing against your thighs.

Edward leaned forward, his lips brushing Martha's ear as he spoke "Ready, my dear?"

Martha let out a breathy laugh, her eyes locked on yours "I'll ask the questions."

She reached for you, guiding you back toward her waiting lips. At the same moment, Edward shifted behind her, and you heard her sharp intake of breath as he entered her from behind. Her mouth found you again, this time with more urgency, claiming you both.

A moment passed as the bed found a new rhythm. The only sounds were the wet heat of Martha's mouth, her muffled moans vibrating around your length. Edward worked behind her with long, steady strokes—controlled but building. Martha's hand found yours, fingers intertwining as she braced herself against you.

Edward's breathing grew ragged, his pace quickening "She's… tightening around me…"

Martha's response was a deep, needy sound that traveled through her throat and into you, her hips pushing back to meet Edward's thrusts even as she continued her work on you. The bed began to creak with a steady, building rhythm—the three of you moving together, finding a shared cadence.

Her tongue traced patterns against you between each deep descent, her hand working the base in perfect synchronization. Her moans grew louder, less restrained, her body tensing between you.

The rhythm of the bed quickened, the creak of the frame keeping time with Edward's thrusts. Martha's mouth worked you with renewed fervor, her moans growing higher, more urgent. Her fingers tightened around yours, her whole body tensing as she climbed toward release.

Edward's voice broke, ragged and raw "Martha—I'm—"

She didn't stop. Her hips pushed back against him, driving him deeper while she took you further into her throat. A muffled cry escaped her, vibrating around your length as her body shuddered—her climax rippling through her, pulling Edward over the edge with her.

Edward groaned her name as he buried himself deep inside her, his hips pressing against her. His hands gripped her waist, holding her steady as he spilled himself into her in long, hot pulses.

Martha didn't pause. Even as her own release rolled through her, even as she felt Edward's warmth flooding her, she pushed forward, her nose brushing your skin, your length sliding in, to the root. She held you there, her throat working around you, swallowing as the first hot rope of your release hit the back of her throat.

Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes dark against her flushed cheeks, as she took it all. One. Two. Three long pulses, her throat contracting with each swallow. Her hand squeezed yours, grounding herself as she drank you down.

She stayed there for a long moment, lips sealed around the base of you, breathing through her nose, savoring. Then, slowly, she withdrew—inch by inch—her tongue dragging along the underside as she went. When she finally released you, a thin trail of saliva connected her lower lip to your cock, catching the firelight before breaking.

She looked up at you, eyes heavy-lidded, lips swollen and glossy. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face as Edward withdrew from behind her, collapsing onto the bed with a long, shuddering exhale.

The fire popped softly. The three of you were tangled in the aftermath, the velvet bedspread rumpled beneath you, the scent of sex and woodsmoke heavy in the air. Martha shifted, curling against Edward's side, her hand reaching out to rest on your thigh.

Her voice was hoarse, but warm "Well. That was a good start."

Edward let out a breathless laugh, his arm coming around to pull Martha closer.

Edward's voice was rough, soft "I think… I’ll need a short break."

Martha lay draped across Edward's chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns through the dusting of hair there. Edward's arm was wrapped around her, his eyes half-closed, a rare softness in his expression.

After a long moment, Martha stirred, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Edward. Her hand slid down his chest, over his stomach, coming to rest at the base of his cock. She stroked it lightly, playfully. Edward barely flinched, already spent. "You can rest all you like, Sir Edward." she leaned in, her lips brushing his ear "But I expect you to stay in the game." she pulled back, a wicked glint in her hazel eyes "Put that talented mouth of yours to use while you recover."

Edward's grey-blue eyes flickered open. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

His voice was rough, but warm with amusement "You're not one to let an opportunity pass, are you?" his hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb tracing her cheekbone "I suppose I owe you that, after the display you just gave us."

He shifted, and Martha let herself be guided onto her back, her auburn hair fanning across the pillows. The firelight painted her skin in shades of amber and gold. She spread her thighs with an unselfconscious confidence. Edward settled between them. As he lowered his head, Martha reached out blindly for you, her hand finding your half-hard length and wrapping around it with a possessive grip.

Martha's voice came breathless as Edward's mouth found her "Mmm… and [reader:first_name]. I want you in my mouth again."

She tugged gently, guiding you up the bed until you knelt beside her head. Her lips parted, tongue darting out in anticipation, even as Edward's mouth set to work elsewhere.

He knew what he was doing. His hands gripped her thighs, parting her further, fingers spreading her folds as his tongue traced a slow, deliberate path through her wetness. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue. Martha gasped, her hips twitching at the contact.

Edward's voice came muffled, his hot breath ghosting over her "You taste exquisite, Martha… like honey and salt. I could spend all night drinking from you."

He pressed deeper, his tongue sliding between her folds, curling upward. His nose nudged her clit, drawing a sharp moan from her.

Martha's hand tightened around you as she guided you to her lips, her voice a desperate rasp "Get it hard for me… he's going to make me scream. I want to feel you down my throat."

Her eyes locked on yours as she lifted her head and parted her lips. Meanwhile, Edward's tongue moved with deliberate purpose, drawing small circles against her clit. Her hand pumped you in anticipation, her fingers wet with your pre-cum.

The sight of them together—Edward's dark head between Martha's thighs, the arch of her back, the firelight playing over her breasts—stirred something primal in you. Your breath quickened as her lips closed around the tip of you, her eyes still holding yours.

Down below, Edward alternated between broad, flat strokes of his tongue and precise, focused attention on her clit. Her hips began to move in small circles against his face, her breathing growing ragged. The muscles in her thighs tensed under his hands.

Edward pulled back just long enough to murmur, his lips brushing her wet folds "I can feel you getting close. Don't hold back, my dear. Let me taste you."

He dove back in, his tongue pressing flat against her entrance, then sliding up to flick against her clit with quick, targeted strokes. At the same moment, Martha took you deeper, her throat working around you, swallowing as her body began to tremble.

Martha's hips bucked against Edward's mouth, a muffled cry vibrating around your length as her release crested. Her thighs clamped around his head, her hand squeezing your shaft as she rode out the wave. Her throat relaxed and she withdrew, panting heavily, a string of saliva still connecting her to the tip of your cock.

Her voice was hoarse, but hungry "Fuck me."

She reached down, grabbing Edward by the hair and pulling him up from between her thighs. His lips and chin were glistening. Without letting go of him, she twisted onto her hands and knees, presenting herself to you—the curve of her back, the swell of her hips, the red and glistening lips of her sex gleaming in the firelight.

Her voice was raw "I want your cock, [reader:first_name]. I want you inside me now."

Edward settled back against the headboard, watching you both. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a dazed, satisfied smile on his face.

Sir Edward Harrington

His voice was quiet, ragged with admiration "Don't keep the lady waiting."

Martha knelt before you on the rumpled velvet, her body arched, her thighs parted. The firelight caught the curve of her spine, the damp sheen of her skin, the way her auburn hair tumbled forward over her shoulders. She looked back at you over her shoulder, her hazel eyes dark with hunger, her lips parted and glossy.

Her voice was a low, husky command "I said fuck me, [reader:first_name]. Don't make me ask again."

Edward leaned back against the headboard, his hand already moving to his half-hard cock, stroking slowly as he watched. His eyes traced the line of Martha's back, the curve of her ass, the way her body tensed in anticipation.

Edward's voice came low, rough "She's waiting for you."

You moved behind her, your knees sinking into the mattress. The heat of her body radiated against your skin as you positioned yourself. Her hand reached back, finding your hip, guiding you forward. The tip of your cock brushed against her slick folds, and she let out a sharp, impatient breath.

Martha pushed back against you, her voice breaking "Yes—there—"

You entered her in one slow, steady push. The heat of her enveloped you, tight and wet, her body yielding inch by inch. A long, low moan escaped her, her forehead dropping to the bedspread as she arched her back.

Edward's hand moved faster on himself, his breath catching "God, look at that. Look at the way she takes you."

You began to move—slow at first, deep thrusts that drew a rhythm of soft cries from Martha's lips. Her fingers clawed at the velvet, her hips meeting each thrust, pushing back against you. The bed creaked beneath you, the firelight flickering over the three of you.

Martha's voice came muffled against the bedspread, desperate and raw "Harder—please—I need—"

You obliged, your pace quickening, your hands gripping her hips as you drove deeper. Her cries grew louder, more urgent, her body trembling with each thrust.

Behind you, Edward's breathing grew ragged. His hand pumped his shaft in rhythm with your thrusts, his eyes fixed on the place where you disappeared into Martha's body.

Edward's voice broke, strained "I'm close… I'm so close…"

Martha reached back, her hand finding your thigh, squeezing. Her body began to tighten around you, her climax building. She let out a choked cry.

Her voice was a desperate plea "Fill me, [reader:first_name]—don't stop—I want to feel you—"

The heat built, coiling low in your belly. Your thrusts grew harder, faster, the rhythm losing its control. Martha's body clenched around you, her release crashing through her with a sharp, broken cry.

That was all it took. You buried yourself deep inside her, your own release surging, pumping hot and thick into her. Your hips pressed against hers, holding nothing back.

At the same moment, Edward groaned, his hand working furiously. A hot stream of his release arced through the firelight, splashing across Martha's back and shoulders. A second spurt caught her cheek, a third painting her hair. He let out a long, shuddering breath, collapsing back against the headboard.

For a long moment, the only sounds were ragged breathing and the crackling fire. The three of you stayed frozen in place—you still buried inside her, Edward spent against the pillows, Martha trembling between you, her body marked by both of you.

Slowly, she pushed back against you, a soft, satisfied sound escaping her lips as she felt your warmth still inside her. She twisted, looking over her shoulder at you both, a lazy, sated smile spreading across her face. The firelight caught the traces of Edward's release on her skin.

Her voice was hoarse, thick with contentment "Now that… was worth the wait."

The three of you lay tangled together on the four-poster bed—Martha curled in the center, her head resting on your chest, one leg thrown over Edward's thigh. Edward's arm was draped across her waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her hip.

For a long while, no one spoke. Martha's breathing slowly evened out, her body softening against yours. Edward's hand stilled on her hip, his own breath deepening into the rhythm of sleep.

Edward's voice came as a drowsy murmur, barely above a whisper "I don't think I've ever… tried something quite like this.

Martha stirred slightly, a soft, contented hum escaping her lips. She didn't open her eyes, but her hand found yours, fingers intertwining.

Her voice was thick with approaching sleep "Mm… neither have I."

Silence settled over the room like a blanket. The last of the embers popped softly. Outside, the wind rustled through the gardens. The world beyond the heavy curtains felt distant, irrelevant.

One by one, sleep claimed you. Martha's grip on your hand slackened. Edward's breathing evened into a soft, steady rhythm. And you sank into the warmth between them, the weight of the night pulling you down into a deep, dreamless rest.

MORNING [DAY 5]

Pale grey light was filtering through the gaps in the heavy curtains when you first became aware of the warmth. The fire had long since died, leaving the room cool, but the heat beneath the covers held. A soft, rhythmic movement roused you from the depths of sleep.

You blinked against the dim light. The bed was warm around you. Edward lay beside you, still on his back, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. The velvet coverlet was pulled up to his waist, leaving his torso bare.

Then you felt it—a warm, wet heat enveloping you. A slow, languid suction, pulling you from the haze of sleep. Your body responded before your mind caught up.

Beneath the covers, a shape stirred. Auburn hair spilled across your thigh as Martha's head moved with deliberate slowness. She was on her stomach between your legs and Edward's, her mouth working your rapidly hardening length with the patience of someone savoring a morning meal. Her hand was wrapped around the base of Edward's cock, stroking him to wakefulness with equal care.

Martha released you with a soft, wet sound, her voice husky with sleep "Mornin', sleepyheads." she kissed the tip of you, featherlight, before ducking back under the covers

Beside you, Edward stirred. A low groan escaped him as Martha's hand continued its work. He shifted, his hand finding her hair beneath the blanket.

Sir Edward Harrington

Edward's voice was rough with sleep "You're an early riser."

A muffled laugh came from beneath the covers, followed by the wet sound of her mouth returning to work. She alternated between you—a few long, slow strokes of her lips on you, then a shift to take Edward into her mouth. She moved between you with deliberate rhythm, her hands making up for what her mouth couldn't reach simultaneously.

The morning light grew stronger, casting pale stripes across the bed. Outside, birds had begun their chorus. But inside the warm cocoon of the bed, there was only the soft, wet sounds of Martha's work, the occasional hitch of breath from Edward, and the growing heat pooling in your belly as she drew you both inexorably toward release.

She surfaced again, pushing the coverlet down to her waist. Her hair was a wild tangle, her lips red and swollen. She looked between you both with a satisfied smile, her hands still stroking you both.

Her voice was warm, playful "I figured you two deserved a proper awakening after last night." she squeezed you both gently "Now, lie back and let me finish what I started."

She lowered her head again, this time with clear intent. Her hand worked Edward in a steady rhythm as her mouth focused on you—fast, purposeful, her tongue curling around the head with each pass. You were close, she could feel it.

The shift in energy was immediate and electric. Martha's confident rhythm faltered as she felt the change in the air—felt you both stirring with a different kind of intent.

She surfaced, a flicker of surprise crossing her features as she sensed the shift in your postures "What's this, then? Have you two found your morning confidence?"

Edward was already moving. His hand slid from her hair to her jaw, tilting her face up toward him. His grey-blue eyes were dark, focused.

His voice was low, measured—the voice of a man accustomed to command "We have, Martha. And I think it's time we returned the favor of your… thorough attentions."

He released her jaw and slid from the bed in one fluid motion. His lean, naked form was silhouetted against the pale morning light. He turned, offering you a glance—a silent question, a shared understanding.

Edward's hand extended toward Martha "Come here, my dear."

Martha's eyes widened slightly—not with fear, but with a spark of eager surprise. She glanced at you, then back at Edward. A slow smile spread across her lips. She took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled from the bed.

Edward guided her to her knees beside the bed, the cool floorboards pressing against her bare skin. She knelt there, her auburn hair falling in waves around her shoulders. Her hands rested on her thighs, palms up—open, waiting. Her hazel eyes traveled between the two of you with undisguised anticipation.

Her voice was husky, a little breathless "Well then, gentlemen. You've got me where you want me."

Edward moved to stand before her, his hand finding her chin again, tilting her face up. He stroked his shaft slowly, deliberately, letting her watch. He turned his head toward you.

Edward's voice was rough "[reader:first_name]. Join me. I believe we have something to give her."

You stepped off the bed, the morning air cool against your skin. You took your place beside Edward, your own hardness jutting out before you, level with Martha's upturned face. She looked between you both, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

Martha's hands came up, one resting on each of your thighs, steadying herself "I hope you're both planning to deliver what you're promising."

She didn't wait for an answer. Her mouth found Edward first—a quick, hungry kiss to the tip before she turned, her lips brushing against yours. She moved between you, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along each shaft, teasing, taunting. Her hands stroked your thighs, your hips, the flat of your stomachs.

Edward's hand found the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He didn't push, just held her there, a gentle reminder of who was guiding this morning's rhythm.

His voice came low, steady "I think it's time, [reader:first_name]."

He met your eyes over Martha's head. In that look passed an understanding—a shared rhythm, a shared intention. Together, you both stepped closer. Martha's breath caught as your lengths pressed against her cheeks, her lips, the warmth of her skin.

You began to stroke yourselves in unison. Martha's eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting, her hands gripping your thighs as she felt the heat of you both so close. Edward's pace quickened first, his breath growing uneven. His hand tightened in her hair.

Edward's voice broke, raw "Martha… I'm—"

His release came first—a hot, thick stream that splashed across her cheek and lips. She didn't flinch. Her tongue darted out, catching what she could, even as more painted her skin. Her hand moved to you, pumping urgently, her eyes finding yours, pleading without words.

You followed moments later, your body tensing as you spilled yourself across her upturned face. The first rope caught her lips, the second striped across her nose and cheek, the third landing warm across her closed eyelids. She moaned softly, her mouth opening to catch the last drops.

For a long moment, the three of you stayed frozen—you and Edward standing over her, Martha on her knees, painted in your cum. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Then, slowly, she opened her eyes. Her tongue traced a slow path across her upper lip, cleaning what she could reach.

Her voice was hoarse, rough with satisfaction "Good morning indeed."

She rose unsteadily to her feet, her legs shaky. She looked between you both, her skin still glistening, a wild tenderness in her eyes. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Edward's cheek, then to yours—leaving a smear of warmth behind.

Her voice dropped to something softer, more intimate "I suppose I should go before the household stirs."

She crossed the room, gathering her discarded clothes. At the door, she paused, looking back over her shoulder. Her face was still marked by both of you, and she made no move to wipe it clean.

A slow, wicked smile "Until next time, gentlemen."

The door clicked shut behind her. The room fell quiet. Edward let out a long, slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he sank onto the edge of the bed.

You dressed quickly, straightened your coat and took one last look around the room before stepping into the corridor.

Kingsmere Hall had already begun returning to its ordinary rhythm.

Servants carried luggage towards the entrance hall.

Footmen opened shutters to let in the morning sun.

Guests exchanged farewells as they prepared to depart.

It was as though the excitement of the past five days had quietly folded itself away.

As you descended the servants' staircase, a familiar voice called after you.

"Oi."

You turned.

Martha stood outside the kitchens with her sleeves already rolled up.

"You look far too respectable for someone who got as little sleep as you did."

You laughed.

"I could say the same about you."

"I've had practice."

She folded her arms, a teasing grin spreading across her face.

"I'd have walked you to the carriage but someone around here has to make sure breakfast doesn't burn."

"I imagine Kingsmere would fall apart without you."

"It probably would."

She stepped a little closer.

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

Then her grin softened into something warmer.

"I'm glad you came this week... with Edward"

"So am I."

She gave your sleeve a playful tug.

"Don't spend the next twelve months becoming boring."

"I'll do my best."

"Good."

She nodded with satisfaction.

"Because the hunting party will be back next year."

Her eyes met yours.

"And I fully expect you to give me another excuse to sneak away from the kitchens."

You smiled.

"I'll see what I can arrange."

"You'd better."

Before you could reply, someone called her name from inside.

Martha sighed.

She took a step backwards towards the kitchen door.

"Safe journey... And..."

A mischievous smile returned to her face.

"...don't make me wait another year longer than necessary."

With a wink, she disappeared back into the organised chaos of the kitchens.

You stood there for another moment before making your way towards the entrance hall.

Edward was already waiting beside the carriage.

"Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Together, you climbed aboard.

As the carriage rolled away from Kingsmere Hall, you glanced back one last time.

The great house slowly disappeared behind the trees.

Its halls would soon fill with new guests.

New stories.

New memories.

But you had a feeling that, when next year's hunting party arrived...

...someone in the kitchens would already be looking forward to seeing you again.