Wicked Passions: Book 1 in the Wicked Love Series

Act Like a Lady

“How dare you ruin my gowns.” She hissed at Amelia. The girl glanced up at her aunt and quickly turned her attention to the gown. One of the small buttons was hanging by a thread, something that Amelia could easily mend. “You ruined my gown when you laundered it. You did it on purpose, spiteful child.” She shouted.

“I can fix it.” Amelia offered, but her aunt was already in a rage.

“Pull down your dress. You will be punished.” Her aunt ordered. Amelia could hear the sneer in her aunt’s voice. The woman enjoyed tormenting her niece.

Amelia reached around to the back of her dress and undid the buttons. She exposed her back to her aunt, faded lines crisscrossed Amelia’s back. Lady Beatrice walked to her vanity and opened a small drawer in the middle. She pulled out a thin wooden rod and marched over to where Amelia stood; she lashed the girl’s bare flesh several times, each beating harder than the last. Amelia stood straight and tall, refusing to whimper. Her mother’s words were ringing in her ears above the wailing voice of her aunt. ‘Be polite, stand up straight, be thankful, and above all always act like a lady.’ She was sure that her mother did not have this life in mind for her daughter when she spoke those words. Amelia heard her aunt place the rod down on her vanity and Amelia buttoned her dress.

“Wicked child.” Lady Beatrice hissed. “After all I’ve done for you.” Beatrice marched around the room. Amelia did her best to stand still while the flesh on her back throbbed and bled. “I took you in when your father left you with nothing. I’ve fed you, I’ve clothed you. Yes, I expect some work in return for all my kindness, but that can only be expected.” The woman was foaming at the mouth while she paced in front of Amelia. “And here you destroy my property, my personal property to spite me.” She stopped and faced Amelia. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Lady Beatrice shook the dress in Amelia’s face.

“I can mend the button, Lady Winthrope. It will only take me a moment.” Amelia swallowed her anger as a gently bread lady should.

“Oh,” her aunt replied. “You should have said so much sooner.” She shoved the dress into Amelia’s hands.

Beatrice folded her arms and waited for Amelia to mend the gown. Amelia went into the wardrobe and pulled out a small sewing box. She took a seat on one of the worn yellow armchairs and began to thread a needle.

“Don’t lean back on that chair, I don’t want it to be covered in your filth,” Lady Beatrice reprimanded.

“Yes, Lady Winthrope,” Amelia responded. ‘Ladies always sit up straight.’ She heard her mother say. Amelia’s back was rigid and she crossed her legs at the ankle, sitting like the trained debutant she once was. The button was mended and Amelia handed the gown to her aunt.

“What do you expect me to do with it? Dress me.” She demanded. Lady Beatrice had fired her lady’s maid after she found the girl servicing Lord Winthrope. Amelia had been with Lady Beatrice when the pair were discovered in Lady Beatrice’s chambers. Amelia was sure that the maid was not given a choice by Lord Winthrope. Lady Beatrice threw the girl out at once and Amelia had taken her place ever since. She dressed Lady Beatrice and fixed the woman’s hair. “I am having tea today with friends. Make sure this house is spic and span before I return.” Amelia curtsied in response.

Waiting for Lady Beatrice to leave, Amelia picked up the dirty rag she had used to clean the chamber pot and went on her way to the kitchen. In the hallway, Amelia met the maid Mrs. Hunter called ‘the tart.’ The busty brunette was exiting Lord Winthrope’s chambers with a large smile on her face and tangled hair. The girl looked at Amelia and laughed.

“Oh, did the witch beat you again?” the girl giggled. Amelia glowered at her, refusing to respond. “Too bad.” The girl put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Lord Winthrope treats me much better. Would you like to know what he was doing to me? We had a good time, we even listened to that old cow beating you. Lord Winthrope thought it was funny and we laughed and laughed at you.” Amelia halted in her tracks and faced the silly maid. “Do you want to hear the best part?” the maid smiled at her. “I’m the one that loosened the button on Lady Winthrope’s dress. I knew she’d blame you, like she does, for everything that goes wrong here.” The girl giggled.

Amelia paused before she said anything, choosing her words carefully. The young maid in front of her was not the first to be amused by Amelia’s suffering. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, Amelia smiled back at the girl. The young woman ceased her giggling and began to frown, drawing her eyebrows together.

“What do you think is so funny?” The girl sneered.

Amelia smiled even wider. “My aunt does not share,” Amelia replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think my aunt will do to you when she catches the two of you together? And don’t think she won’t find out about you and her husband. Aunt Beatrice finds out about everything and Uncle Charles is sloppy.”

“Nothing will happen, Lord Winthrope will take care of me.” She shrugged her shoulders as if she didn’t care about Amelia’s warning.

Amelia began laughing, and the maid’s face turned red. “No, he won’t. You are just a nameless tart to him. Even if he did care for you, and trust me he doesn’t, he couldn’t afford to keep you as a mistress. That’s why he turns to cheap whores like you. That man will put his c**k in anything, and I literally mean anything. He doesn’t even know your name.” The girl took a breath and opened her mouth. Amelia interrupted her. “If you don’t believe me, go back into his room and ask him yourself. Aunt Beatrice probably already knows her husband is tupping another maid. She’ll take her revenge out on your hide next and Uncle Charles will be there to watch her beat you. He likes that, you know. He likes to watch his wife beat the maids.”

“You’re lying.” The girl hissed. “You’re trying to scare me.”

“Ask Mrs. Hunter and Nancy about Lord Winthrope’s perversions. They’ve been here long enough, they’ve seen everything.” Amelia was still smiling as the girl began to storm off. “Oh, Mrs. Hunter would like you to finish scrubbing the floors now that you are done with Lord Winthrope’s cock.” Amelia imagined her mother rolling over in her grave at her daughter’s language. “Being on your knees for the rest of the morning shouldn’t be a problem for someone like you.” Amelia continued and headed toward the back stairs to the kitchen.