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There was rarely a quiet moment in Bridgerton House when the entire family was in residence for the London season. For Penelope, a housemaid who also had additional duties as a lady’s maid for Miss Eloise and Miss Francesca when Rose was otherwise occupied with Miss Daphne, the days were long and there never seemed like there were enough hours in the day to finish her work.
There were also additional duties she was expected to attend to, even when she had a basketful of clothes that required mending waiting for her downstairs. But the Viscount had issued her a summons, and one did not keep His Lordship waiting when he called.
Penelope knocked on the door to his study, and His Lordship’s voice rang out. “Enter,” he said, in a curt, irritated tone.
Oh dear, Penelope fretted. It was going to be a difficult afternoon for her.
Lord Bridgerton was seated behind his large mahogany table, frowning fiercely down at a letter he held in his hand.
He did not look up at her entrance, nor did he react when she closed the door quietly behind her. She stood there in his study, the large oil painting of a kindly gentleman she knew to be the former Lord Bridgerton smiling benevolently down at her.
She waited, trying not to fidget with her apron as His Lordship read through his correspondence. Minutes passed, and just as she started to wonder if he had forgotten about her he looked up and fixed his intimidating gaze on her. Penelope felt her heart begin to beat faster.
“Ah, Penelope,” he said, waving the letter in his hand. “Master Colin has written to me, he is returning to London for the Season and he believes himself in love with a chit he met when he was in Greece. A daughter of a third rate diplomat stationed in Athens.”
Penelope received the news stoically, without a flicker of an eye or a creasing of her brow even though it felt like a blow to the stomach.
She had carried a secret, burning love for the third-born Bridgerton ever since she had come to the household as a laundry maid straight from the foundling home at the tender age of ten.
Once she had absorbed the unwelcome information, Penelope felt confusion. She was not quite sure why Lord Bridgerton was informing her of Master Colin’s romantic entanglement with a diplomat’s daughter.
“He is coming home to seek my and Lady Bridgerton’s blessing,” Lord Bridgerton continued. “He is doomed to be disappointed. I have already made discreet inquiries and the girl’s questionable lineage means that she is hardly a suitable match for a Bridgerton. He will fight me, and try and do something foolish perhaps, abscond with the girl and marry without my agreement and face the consequences. Easier to act first and seek forgiveness than to seek permission. If I was a foolish boy in his position I would likely do the same.”
Still, Penelope remained silent.
Lord Bridgerton tossed the letter onto his desk with a put upon sigh.
“Penelope, Master Colin is a romantic.” Lord Bridgerton said the word as if it was an offensive notion to him. “He is not in love with this girl. He is untried. And green. When a man lacks experience, naturally, he will find it difficult to tell the difference between love and simple lust. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
Penelope nodded.
Yes, she understood perfectly.
Her master’s black eyes flashed with satisfaction. “So, we come to the reason I have called you here. Upon Master Colin’s return, I want you to make yourself available to him. See to his every need.”
“Yes, milord,” Penelope replied, her face blank and her voice soft and obliging.
“Good girl,” Lord Bridgerton praised, a pleased smile lighting up his severe expression. Then there was a pause as he appraised her.
Penelope wondered what he saw when he looked at her like this. Was he searching for imperfections? Her red hair was bound up and tucked under a lacy white cap and her gown was neatly pressed, the very image of a perfect servant.
“Come here,” he said, softly.
The command sent a shiver down her spine. Penelope obeyed without thought, walking towards the Viscount until she stood in front of him, her eyes trained downwards respectfully. She could see the front of his breeches where he was already hard and straining against the dark fabric.
She watched as he undid the buttons of his breeches, his silver signet ring glinting in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. His shaft sprang out, thick and angry and in urgent need of servicing.
His Lordship pressed down on her shoulder and without another word she dropped to her knees.
Penelope was a good girl. She attended to her work with rigour and care, she said her prayers every night before bed, she attended church on Sundays and listened attentively to the sermons delivered by a red-faced clergyman who wheezed between each of his sentences promising an eternity of fire and brimstone to sinners.
When she obeyed her lord and master, she reassured herself that she was not committing a sin.
Her immortal soul was not blemished when she acted on His Lordship’s orders. It was just another service required of her that she applied herself to with diligence and thoroughness.
She suckled on His Lordship’s cock the way he had taught her to, making sure her lips were wet before engulfing the tip of him in her mouth. She sucked and licked at him until she was drooling and he reached under her cap to grip a handful of her hair and his hips began to move. His rough panting filled the room, and she relaxed her jaw and her throat so that he could thrust deeper. She did not complain when her eyes began to water, or when her jaw began to hurt and her knees began to ache. The discomfort was nothing to the emptiness between her legs.
When she hollowed her cheeks to increase the pressure as she knew he liked, Lord Bridgerton swore and withdrew, he hauled her to her feet, forcing her to lie flat on her belly against his enormous desk as he hiked up her skirts. Her legs dangled helplessly in the air, too short to reach the ground.
“Penelope, you filthy little minx,” Lord Bridgerton growled. “Your cunt has no business getting this wet from sucking my cock.”
She cried out in shame and relief as he pushed inside her. It hurt a little, it always did, but Penelope had learned to relax to give into the initial pain of His Lordship’s blunt entry into her body in order to enjoy the pleasure that came with being filled, stretched and taken.
It was brisk, and over in minutes. His Lordship’s thrusts grew harder and rougher and his grip on her hips tightened. Then, he retreated from her before she felt the hot spill of his spend against her inner thigh.
Penelope waited as his breathing returned to normal, he wiped the tip of his shaft against her bottom as though she were a handkerchief. She bit her lip, pushing down the part of her that felt like weeping from the hollowness between her legs.
Until she came to Bridgerton House, she had never known the satiation of a good meal, of going to bed on a full belly. The generosity and kindness of her master had made her greedy for more than what she was entitled to.
Her Lordship’s needs had been met and she had fulfilled her purpose, she scolded herself. The throbbing, restless feeling would fade, it always did.
She pushed her skirts down and slid down the desk until her feet met the carpet. She dared not look at Lord Bridgerton’s face as she smoothed down her apron and readjusted her cap.
“Is there aught else your Lordship requires of me?” Penelope asked, hating the slight tremble in her voice.
“No,” Lord Bridgerton replied, his voice commanding and dignified once more. “Master Colin will be home in a few days’ time I expect. Just be ready when I call for you.”
She nodded, dipped a curtsy and left the study without another word.
She winced at the unpleasant sensation of the Viscount’s spend dribbling down her thighs as she walked quickly to the servant’s staircase. The dressing gong would be rung any moment, she would need to rush back to her room and wash and change in order to be ready to dress the young ladies for dinner.
Three days later, Colin Bridgerton returned to London.
There was a flurry of activity downstairs as servants prepared steaming pails of hot water for the footmen to lug upstairs for Master Colin’s bath. Cook and her kitchen maids were whipped into a frenzy, baking fresh scones and biscuits and putting together a small mountain of sandwiches to send upstairs.
Penelope watched furtively from the doorway of the library when Colin Bridgerton, freshly bathed with his hair still slightly wet, strode into the room where tea had been set out for the family. She smiled as his younger siblings shouted in delight and the family welcomed him back home with hugs and laughter and questions.
The reunion between the Viscount and his younger brother was rather more subdued, but Penelope did not miss the way His Lordship squeezed his brother’s shoulder affectionately.
At one point, during the family’s tea time, Master Colin glanced into the hallway and their eyes met. He gave her a broad smile that made her blush and look away shyly. To her chagrin and deep embarrassment, he walked over to her to where she was hovering outside the room.
“Pen!”
“Master Colin,” Penelope said as she curtsied. “Welcome home.”
“Have you missed me?” He asked, his blue eyes twinkled down at her. “Must have been dreadfully quiet and boring around the home without me.”
“Oh dreadfully quiet,” Penelope said slyly. “Cook has had so much less work she’s begun a habit of afternoon naps and Mrs Wilson no longer scolds me for not getting through all my needlework without anyone to distract me.”
He laughed at her teasing, one of his sisters said something to him and he winked at her before returning to the family.
Penelope would have stood there longer if she could, content just to watch him from afar, but she caught the eye of Mrs Wilson from across the room who raised an eyebrow at her so she ducked her head and made her way back downstairs.
She was no fool.
She knew that Colin Bridgerton would never return her feelings. Not even in her wildest fantasies could she foresee such an event taking place. But knowing this did not deter her from loving him with her whole heart. It was not just that he was handsome and clever and charming. He was kind. She had loved him the moment she had met him.
It had been her first week in Bridgerton House. She had been hiding in a closet, weeping her eyes out because while ironing, she had been busy daydreaming and she’d been so careless that she’d left a terrible burn mark on one of the girls’ pretty white dresses.
She’d been so terrified she’d fled and hid herself in a closet only to be found by young Master Colin who had heard her soft little whimpers. He had asked her gently why she was crying before taking her hand to lead her to his mother. He had explained to her ladyship that the laundry maid was terribly afraid she would be punished for her crime and be sent back to the foundling home where the porridge was always served cold with weevils.
Lady Bridgerton had cooed, wiped away Penelope’s tears and reassured her that she would not be punished, and sent them both downstairs to Cook for a special treat of custard and strawberries. During the entire ordeal, Master Colin had kept her hand tucked reassuringly in his own.
Since that day, Penelope’s heart had wholly and completely belonged to him.
She did not quite know what to make of Lord Bridgerton’s instructions to her. One part of her wished to warn Master Colin of his brother’s plans. The other part of her whispered to her to stay silent and obey His Lordship.
Besides, the devil’s voice murmured in her ear, is it not worth it to sell your soul for the chance to have him, even just once?
Later that evening, she was kneeling next to her bed, reciting her evening prayers with her hands clasped beneath her chin when Mrs Wilson appeared in her doorway holding a candlestick.
“His Lordship has asked for your presence in his study,” the Housekeeper said, her expression carefully blank.
Penelope blinked. She had not expected the summons to arrive so soon.
She stood and pulled a robe over her plain white nightgown. Her hair was down and tied into a simple braid, she briefly considered covering it but she did not wish to keep her master waiting, so she followed Mrs Wilson into the dark, deserted hallways with only the single candle to light their path.
When they reached the familiar door of the Viscount’s study, Penelope heard the sound of clinking glasses and masculine laughter drifting out of the room. Mrs Wilson scratched lightly on the door and the laughter softened before the door swung open bathing them in yellow light.
“Yes, thank you Mrs Wilson. That will be all.”
Mrs Wilson did not need to be told a second time, she left, walking away at a brisk pace as though she could not get away fast enough.
Lord Bridgerton stood aside and gestured for Penelope to enter the room.
Master Colin was seated in front of the fire nursing a drink, his hair mussed and only dressed in his shirt sleeves as he sprawled negligently in the armchair. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks pink.
Penelope eyed the half empty decanter of deep amber liquid sitting on Lord Bridgerton’s desk and realised Master Colin was well and truly foxed.
“Pen?” Master Colin slurred, confused. “What are you doing here? What did you wake her for Anthony? It's the middle of the night.”
“Penelope is here because I asked for her assistance with an urgent matter.”
“What is so urgent that it could not wait until tomorrow?” Master Colin asked.
Lord Bridgerton ignored his brother, and gestured at the space between where his brother sat and the fireplace.
“Come here, Penelope,” Lord Bridgerton said, settling back into his armchair. “Stand in front of the fire so we can see you clearly.”
Penelope walked forward, her heart pumping faster in anticipation and a healthy dose of fear.
She stood facing Lord Bridgerton with her back to the flames waiting for his further instruction. She glanced over at Master Colin, his brow furrowed as he looked between her and his brother, trying to use his liquor-soaked brain to understand what was happening.
“Take your robe off,” Lord Bridgerton told her.
Penelope bit her lip as she untied the sash of her robe, she drew the sleeves down from her shoulders one by one. Master Colin’s eyes grew round, his mouth slightly agape as he followed her movements.
She let the robe fall to the ground, Lord Bridgerton was watching closely, so she drew her shoulders back, and straightened her spine, presenting herself for his viewing pleasure as she had been trained to do by His Lordship.
She could tell Lord Bridgerton was pleased, there in the corner of his stern mouth, she could see a smile beginning to form. “Lovely, Penelope,” he said, dispassionately, as though he was praising a pretty watercolour one of his sisters had painted.
Her nightgown was old and thinned from too many washes, against the light of the fire, it offered her no protection from their eyes. When she looked down, she could clearly make out the shape of her figure, the hard tips of her breasts poking through the light fabric.
“Anthony,” Master Colin began, uneasily. He struggled to sit up in the armchair but only managed to slide down the smooth leather back into his original sprawl. “What is this?”
“Colin, I know you feel resentful at the way I keep you under my thumb. You want to be your own man and make your own decisions. But you are still young, there is so much of the world you do not yet understand. This girl you say you are in love with, is she beautiful?”
Master Colin’s eyes darted from Penelope’s scantily clad body to his brother, confused and unsettled. Penelope felt a wave of sympathy for him. He must have been able to sense the web his brother was spinning around him, but he was too intoxicated to do anything about it.
“Yes, she is beautiful. But what does that-”
“Penelope is also very beautiful, is she not?” Lord Bridgerton asked, tilting his head to one side, his eyes reflected the light of the fireplace and the sight of the flames flickering within his obsidian eyes frightened Penelope a little. “I have noticed, you know, the way your eyes follow her when she enters a room, lingering over her comely figure, her delicious bosom.”
Master Colin stared at him, mouth open, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Brother, what are you-”
“Have you ever seen a woman’s breasts, Colin?” Lord Bridgerton asked, calmly. “Besides in a painting of course.”
Master Colin stayed silent, his face steadily turning a darker shade of pink.
“Penelope.” Lord Bridgerton said, nodded at her.
Penelope reached for the hem of her nightgown, slowly, slowly inching it upwards to ensure Master Colin was watching as she drew it up her body and over her head. She wished she could fold it neatly but she let the gown drop to the ground instead.
She was not ashamed of her body. Perhaps she had been when she was younger; the other maids would make snide comments and jokes about her body and her penchant to take an extra slice of toast or cake whenever she could. As a younger woman, she had felt self-conscious and ashamed of her round face and body, but her education at the hands of Lord Bridgerton and Master Benedict had both thoroughly driven away those fears.
Master Benedict, in particular, adored her body. He had asked her to pose for his paintings so often that Penelope had become accustomed to the presence of appraising eyes on her naked form. During their modelling sessions, it had become quite commonplace for Master Benedict to stop in the middle of his work to unbutton his breeches and use her mouth or her cunny so that he could gather his focus and return to his painting.
Master Colin was not breathing quite well, he could not seem to be able to stop himself from devouring her with his eyes, his gaze moving greedily from the hard tips of her rosy nipples to her soft belly, down to the red curls between her legs.
The longer she stood there, watching Master Colin’s expression: stunned but unwilling to look away, the more the thrumming ache between her legs intensified.
“See how obliging our sweet Penelope is, Brother?” Anthony swirled the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. “If you were so inclined, Penelope could bring you off with her mouth. Would you like that?”
Master Colin did not reply, but his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. Penelope took one step forward until she was standing between Master Colin’s spread legs. She kneeled, staring up at him with adoring eyes, smoothing her palms along the tops of his thighs.
She nuzzled her cheek against his knee, resting her head on his leg and looked up at him pleadingly, silently begging for the privilege of having him in her mouth.
He stared down at her, jaw slack, breathing heavily. He did not move to stop her as she reached for the buttons of his breeches. When his shaft sprung out, hard and already leaking, Penelope had to swallow a gasp of shock. Master Colin had the largest cock she had ever seen. He was so thick and wide.
When she timidly closed her hand around him, he jerked at her touch and hissed in a breath. Her fingers did not even come close to touching when she tried to wrap her hand around the thickest part of his erection and she felt herself clench in protest at the size of him.
As she lowered her head and took the tip of him in her mouth, Master Colin gasped, his hands flying to the arms of his chair.
She took her time, suckling, licking and teasing just the head of him, taking her cues from his grunts and panting. He felt immense in her mouth, the skin around her lips felt strained and stretched as she struggled to take him deeper.
She fought the urge to squirm and rock her hips as she stroked Master Colin’s cock with her hand and her tongue, but the arousal was almost unbearable. She was terribly aware of Lord Bridgerton watching her closely as she serviced his brother. She wanted so desperately to please His Lordship and prove to him what a good servant she was, and more than anything she wanted to bring Master Colin to completion, to know the sounds he made when he was lost to pleasure.
As she worked at him, she felt the muscles in his thighs grow tenser, she noticed his grip on the armchairs was so tight it was turning his knuckles white, his breathing grew harsher and shorter.
When she closed her lips tight around him and sucked at him the way that always made his brothers go wild, he made a sharp, helpless noise, one hand moved and she felt his fingers grip the back of her head and his hips bucked upwards, if she was not gripping him in her hand she would have choked.
Master Colin let out a loud: “Fuck!” and exploded, spilling into her mouth. Penelope swallowed him down eagerly, relishing in his astonished moans of pleasure.
Penelope kept him in her mouth, lapping him clean with her tongue until she felt him begin to soften. When she finally sat back on her heels, she looked up hesitantly to find his eyes fixed on her swollen lips, wearing an expression of shock.
She blinked and looked over at Lord Bridgerton with uncertainty. His Lordship was sat back in his own chair, one ankle crossed over the other leg with an impassive expression in his face.
There was a long drawn out moment when the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire.
“What are you thinking about now, Brother?” Lord Bridgerton’s soft voice broke through the heavy silence in the room. “Still longing for that pretty girl you left behind in Greece? Or perhaps now you are more preoccupied with thoughts of Penelope’s hot, hungry little mouth?”
Master Colin did not respond, only stared at his brother with the same shell-shocked expression.
“You need not feel shame, Brother,” His Lordship said, reassuringly. “Penelope adores sucking cock. It makes her little snatch drip every time. Isn’t that correct, my sweet?”
Penelope stared down at her lap, her face hot with mortification. “Yes, milord.”
“Lie back, sweet girl. Spread your legs and show Master Colin what cocksucking does to your cunny.”
Penelope did as she was told, shifting onto her bottom, then lowering herself until she lay on the rug on her back. She drew up her legs until her knees pointed upwards and slowly spread her thighs, letting out a little gasp at the sensation of cool air on her soaked cunt.
“Look at that, Brother. Have you ever seen anything more delicious? Do you see how swollen and needy she becomes after you use her mouth?”
She could not see Master Colin’s face, and if he answered she did not hear his response. She stared up at the wooden beams in the ceiling, her mind a blank, jumbled mess. It was hard to focus on anything over the urgent pulsing between her legs. Then, she heard the creak of the chair as Lord Bridgerton stood up, he knelt between her spread thighs, took her hips in a firm grasp and then, without warning, pushed his cock inside her empty, aching cunt.
Penelope cried out, keening in gratitude to His Lordship.
“Does that feel good, Penelope?” His Lordship grunted as he fucked her. “This is what you need isn’t it, what you crave? A nice hard cock to stuff your tight, soft cunt.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Penelope sobbed. For the first time, there was no pain at his entry. Only pleasure. Tears streamed down the sides of her face and into her hair and she could not stop herself from shamelessly begging for more.
“Please, Sir. Do not stop, milord. Please do not stop.”
Her intimate muscles could not stop fluttering around his shaft as he ploughed into her, hard and deep. It was all too much for her. The evening’s depravity had left her in a state of near madness, within moments she arched her back and sobbed as she climaxed. Pleasure flooded her, leaving her insensate. She dug her fingers into the fibres of the plush rug beneath her in an effort to ground herself.
Her thighs refused to stop trembling as the waves rolled through her, one after the other.
When her legs finally stopped shaking and she could feel her extremities again, Lord Bridgerton stood up, she hastily sat back up as well so she could take up her kneeling position.
He thrust his cock into her mouth, his hand gripping the base of her neck and she immediately understood what he wanted. She relaxed her jaw and her throat, her eyes going glassy as she felt the tip of him slide deeper until he was positioned at the opening of her throat.
She looked up into His Lordship’s burning eyes and swallowed.
That was all he needed to come.
She held herself still, trying her best to take all his spend but some of it leaked out of her mouth and dripped down her chin and onto her breasts.
When His Lordship finally withdrew she gasped for air while he tucked himself back into his breeches. He turned to his brother, who remained silent and held himself still as a statue.
“I have told Penelope she is to see to your every need, now that you are home. Make good use of her, she is eager to please. I only have one rule.” His Lordship squeezed his brother’s shoulder hard before he delivered his warning. “Whatever you do, you are not to spill inside her quim.”
Lord Bridgerton moved to his desk to refill his glass. “God help me. The last thing I need is for Mother to find out our housemaid is carrying the bastard of one of her sons.” He gave a rueful laugh as he lifted the glass to his lips, “Can you imagine the look on her face if we told her any one of us could be the father?”
TO BE CONTINUED