I led Bethany by the hand through the front door where she released me and returned to the kitchen, using the door further down the hall.

I stood for a moment and watched her then opened the door and went back into the dining room.

I stopped dead when I saw her!

Marjory was sitting where I had left her, but now she was slumped forward on the table, her head resting on her arms, a pool of thick blood spreading across the dark green velvet of the table covering, dripping onto the carpet beside her.

As I approached she looked up at me, still holding the carving knife that Bethany had let fall to the floor.

“I am so sorry, Victoria,” she whispered. “I told you I was weak. When he took her life, he took mine too.”

I took her hand and recoiled in horror. Her wrist opened and the blood poured forth in faint pulses as her heart tried to pump what little remained round her body.

Quickly I grabbed a napkin and tore a strip of fabric from it then tied it as tightly as I could around the gaping wound, trying to stem the flow.

Slowly she turned her other hand over and the knife slipped from her grasp. She had cut that wrist also.

“You cannot save me, Victoria, I died so long ago. I will be with him again when he joins me in hell.”

I screamed for Bethany but, as she ran through the door, Marjory rolled her head back onto her hands and breathed her last, the blood flow slowed then stopped as her heart pumped no more.

I sank down onto my knees and sighed. That vile man had a lot to answer for.

Bethany came to my side and put her arm around my shoulder but didn't speak. There was nothing to say until, finally, I looked up at her.

“I think we had better call someone. Would you find Aunt Helen, please.”

“Are you sure you're all roight, Miss?” Bethany looked concerned and clearly didn't want to leave me

“Yes,” I replied. “I am,” I smiled wearily up at her.

As she turned to leave I took her hand and stopped her.

“When we are alone, call me Victoria,” I said quietly.

Her eyes sparkled and her face lit up.

“You mean it?” she asked.

I nodded.

“I mean it,” as I squeezed her hand gently.

Whilst I was alone I remained at Marjory's side. I do not know why. There was nothing I could do for her but I really did not know what else to do, my mind was exhausted.

I sat back on my heels and leaned forward, resting my forehead on her lifeless thigh and I swore an oath that no man would ever put me in such a position. I would always control my own destiny and to hell with convention. It was the expectations of the society in which we lived that was as responsible for the death of Marjory Wallace as her husband. Her sense of duty to him and to the church had overridden her sense of right and wrong and, in the end, it had destroyed her and Francis Wallace was as responsible for the death of his wife as much as he was for that of his victim.

It seemed a lifetime but, in truth, only minutes had passed since Bethany left and now she was back with Aunt Helen and Philomena Watson.

“Oh my Lord, is there no end to this,” my Aunt said, sitting down heavily in her chair.

Phil went straight to Marjory and placed her fingers on her neck, seeking a pulse, any sign of life, but of course, there was none and Bethany took my hand and drew me gently to my feet.

I was glad she was here. At that moment I just needed someone to be close to me.

I sat beside my Aunt and took her hand.

“Are you all right, Aunt Helen?” I asked her.

“I will be,” she said. “I have no choice. What about you, are you coping?”

I looked up at Bethany who smiled and nodded, an almost imperceptible movement.

“Yes,” I said. “I am.”

It wasn't very much longer before the police arrived, led by Sergeant Morgan and the rest of the evening was taken up with the removal of Marjory Wallace's body and the taking of brief statements. Full statements could wait until another day when emotions had calmed and minds could think more clearly.

There was a moment where everyone was busy except for myself and I sat in silence for a moment just watching. It was then that Philomena appeared beside me and sat down.

"I wanted to give you some news about Thomas," she said. "You have been so busy with all this." She made a gesture of sweeping her hand across the scene.

"Is he all right?" I asked. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

"No, Victoria, I am afraid he is not," she whispered, putting her hand upon mine.

"Is he...?" I was afraid to continue the question.

"Oh, no, he is not dead," she answered, "but he has not come out of his coma. He has not had another fit but Doctor Harris says he needs to go to a proper hospital, so he is sending him to the National in London tomorrow."

I was shocked at this news.

"But this is a hospital!" I blurted out.

Philomena squeezed my hand.

"We are here to understand the psychological effects of trench warfare," she began. "Thomas has a physical injury inside his head for which we are not equipped here. The National has the best equipment and the best surgeons. If anyone can make him well, they can."

In my heart, I knew she was right but I didn't want to let him go.

"Will I see him before he goes?" I asked her.

"The ambulance will leave about Nine-thirty tomorrow morning as he is to be on the eleven-fifteen to London but I must warn you, Victoria, he may not know you are there."

"I understand," I said. "I cannot let him go without saying goodbye."

"No, of course not," she said gently. "That is why I am telling you tonight but you must be there before Nine."

"I will be," I assured her.

It was dark outside and the dining room was lit only by the dim wall sconces. 

Once the police had left, Melissa, Sally and Bethany brought hot soapy water and scrubbing brushes to clean the carpet.

Aunt Helen stopped them.

“Do not worry about that,” she said. “I would rather have the carpet and the table covering replaced, than leave any memory remaining of what happened here today. Put away your buckets and brushes and we will get some rest now.”

Bethany looked at me and immediately I knew what she was thinking. I smiled and nodded without needing to say a word.

“Tomorrow is another day,” Lady Helen continued. “Let that be a new beginning. Tomorrow we will wash and scrub away the old life and a new one will begin. Such is the way of the world but, tonight, we will rest and leave everything just as it is.” 

I had come to realise Aunt Helen was sharp as a pin, and the unspoken arrangement that I had agreed for Bethany had not gone unnoticed. She looked straight at Sally.

“If you do not want to be alone tonight, I am happy for you to sleep in my room, if you wish.”

“Are you sure you don't mind, Ma'am?” Sally replied. She looked hopeful now but with a sideways glance at Melissa and then at me.

“Don't worry about Victoria,” my Aunt said. “She knows about our ways and you have slept there before.”

“Then, yes, thank you, Ma'am,” she replied with a quick curtsey. “I really don't want to be alone, not tonight.”

“Good, then that is settled.”

The two maids disappeared to tidy up the basics in the kitchen and Melissa to lock the doors and turn off the lights leaving myself and Aunt Helen alone for a few minutes.

“I am quite exhausted, Victoria,” she said, wearily. “This has been such an ordeal and I am so sorry you have had to see it all and so soon after...”

“I am just pleased I was here and I was able to be of some help to you, Aunt Helen.”

It was not a lie. Even though I had lost my Mother and Father in such tragic circumstances, just over three weeks before, I did feel that the events of the last few days had made me grow strong and I was now able to face the world with a new confidence.

Moving closer, she held out her arms to me and I stepped forwards and embraced her, my arms around her trim waist. She held me tightly and, at that moment, I knew we had a strong bond.

“Tomorrow,” she said, softly stroking my hair, “We will talk.”

I gave her a tight squeeze then released her and kissed her on the cheek.

“I would like that,” I replied and, together, we left the dining room and its bloody memories and closed the door behind us.

Back in my room, as I drew the thick, heavy drapes across the windows and looked down at the courtyard below. I could almost see Charlie slap Maggie and the response he received. So much had happened in the few short hours since then and I found it difficult to comprehend that I would never see Maggie there again.

I sighed and finished pulling the curtain across.

As I turned away I jumped suddenly.

“Oh gosh! Bethany!”

I hadn't heard her come in.

“Oi'm sorry, Miss... Victoria,” she corrected herself. “Oi din't mean to startle you.”

“It is all right, Bethany,” I smiled. “I was just remembering Maggie.”

“Oi thought so,” she said. “That's woi oi din't say nuthin'”

“Anything,” I corrected her. “Did not say anything.”

“Oh yes, oi see, sorry, Miss.”

“Don't be sorry, Bethany, I was just teasing you.”

“Oh, Victoria! You are a one. Oi see oi shall 'ave to keep on moi toes with you. Oi 'ope you don't moind but oi took the liberty of fillin' the bathtub.”

“Do I smell so bad?” I asked her, lifting my arm and making a show of trying to smell myself.

“Oh no, Victoria, you smell lovely! It's just that...” She did not finish the sentence but made the point of staring at my legs and body.

I looked down.

“Oh My Lord!” I exclaimed. I was covered in blood! I had obviously been kneeling in it and rubbed it on myself from the table and from Marjory herself.

I wasn't horrified in the slightest, the events of the last few hours had driven any such fears far from my mind but I really did not wish to spend another minute in blood soaked clothing and I began to pull off my stockings, tearing one in my haste.

“Damn, damn, damn!” I stamped my foot and Bethany quickly came to my side.

“Oy,oy,oy!” she said, putting her arms around me and preventing any further movement. “It's all roight, Victoria, oi got yer.”

I immediately broke down in tears. All the pent up emotions flooding out and, for a moment, I let it all go, the tears now soaking into Bethany's shoulder as Sally's had done earlier, with me.

We remained that way until the tears began to subside and I stood back and looked at her beautiful but sad face and then, without a word, I took her pretty face in my hands and kissed her. Not just any old kiss but a loving, passionate kiss. She responded immediately, her hand moving to the back of my head and pulling me tighter against her, our tongues entwining, embracing, dancing almost. I had never kissed anyone in this way before but it seemed so natural and I had no wish for it to end.

It was Bethany who pulled away.

“Victoria,” she said, breathless. “Wait. Are you sure this is what you want?”

I did not need to think about the answer and I nodded, slowly and deliberately.

“Yes,” I whispered. “It is and thank you, Bethany.”

“What for?” she asked, her brow creased with puzzlement.

“For taking the time to make sure I didn't make a fool of myself. You are a sweet friend.”

“Oh croikey!” she exclaimed. “You're making oi blush.”

“Erm, Bethany...” I pointed at her apron which also now had blood on it. “I think we had better get out of these clothes before it goes anywhere else.”

“If you wait just a moment, oi'll get a laundry bag,” she said, and, without waiting for a reply, disappeared through the bathroom door.

She was only gone a minute or two but in that time I caught sight of myself in the mirror and what I saw looking back was not a sight I ever wanted to see again!

When she returned, carrying a muslin bag, she stopped as she saw me staring into the glass.

“Come on, now,” she said, gently but firmly turning me away. “You don't want to be looking at that, now.”

Very carefully, Bethany released the tiny buttons from the loops at the back of my dress and slipped the ruined fabric from my shoulders. She held on to it as I stepped out so that I did not get blood on the carpet or bed covers then turned it inside out and pushed it into the cloth bag.

I raised my arms above my head, as I had done many times as a child when my mother undressed me and Bethany lifted the hem of my slip and lifted up and off. It had turned inside out in the process and it joined my dress in the laundry bag.

She knelt down before me and slowly drew down first one stocking, which I stepped out of and watched as she pushed it into the bag, and then the other, torn stocking.

"There is no need to keep those," I said, not really fully thinking about the words.

Bethany looked up at me, her beautiful blue eyes twinkling in the dim glow of the electric lighting.

"Oi don't think you will want to keep any of it," she said with a wry smile.

“No,” I said, smiling back to her. “I don't suppose I do.”

We held the gaze for a moment then, carefully, giving me the opportunity to react, she reached out and slowly began to lower my pants. I made no attempt to stop her and, as they reached my feet, I stepped out of them as she pulled them clear and placed them into the bag with the rest of my ruined clothing.

She gazed for a moment, at the mop of dark curls in front of her, then, without warning, leaned forwards and placed her lips against them and kissed me there.

I gasped and put my hands to her head, yet, once again, I made no effort to prevent what she was doing.

I was trembling now, my whole body vibrating. It felt so good and so right and, this time, there were no voices in my head, no images of Mother or Father telling me 'no' as I pulled her to me me, wanting her.

Bethany kissed me again, firmly and lovingly, then stood.

“You are trembling, Victoria,” she said with concern. “You don't need to be afraid, oi won't 'urt you neither will oi do anything you don't want.”

“I am afraid, Bethany,” I told her. “But not of you. I trust you implicitly. I am afraid of myself. I have never done this before.”

“Then don't be.” she answered. “You are safe.”

I put my arms around her without a thought for the bloody apron she still wore and held her tightly.

For a moment we remained so until she gently removed my arms from around her, saying, “Come on, now. Oi'll get out of these clothes and we'll get into the tub.”

I watched as she removed the soiled apron and placed it in the sack with my clothes. She slowly unbuttoned the front of her uniform dress and, as each button was released, I saw that she was wearing no underwear. Her beautiful firm, full breasts were revealed, inch my inch until, finally, the dress slipped from her shoulders and she stepped out of it, placing it on the bed as it was not soiled.

Apart from her shoes, which she proceeded to remove, she was naked and she pulled the wooden pin from her hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders.

We walked together, hand in hand, as she led me to the tub and we stepped into the hot, steaming, clear water.

I sat and rested my back against the cold enamel then closed my eyes as Bethany began to wash me with the small sponge. I felt as though I was in heaven as she soaped my breasts, causing them to ache and my nipples grow and throb. I breathed deeply, feeling the hot vapour enter my nostrils and revelled in the luxury of Bethany squeezing out the sponge so the hot, clean water ran over me and rinsed away the lavender scented soap.

Suddenly, I felt something new, a sensation I had not expected. I felt her lips close over my nipple and gentle suckle it. It sent a thrill throughout my whole being, starting between my legs and shooting up through my breasts like a surge of electricity.

Unable to stop myself, I began to moan softly, almost purring and when I felt the softness of her tongue begin to wrap itself around my bursting teat which pushed outwards from my small breast. I wanted to cry out in ecstasy but all I could manage was a gasp of pure wanton pleasure.

Bethany was almost laying on me now and, as she suckled me, I felt her hand, still holding the sponge, slip along the inside of my thigh, until it reached the core of my heat and began to gently clean me.

I could no longer move, my muscles were so tense and when I felt her finger begin to enter me I just froze. Nothing had ever penetrated me there before and suddenly I was afraid. I tensed and Bethany stopped as she felt my body stiffen.

Before she had a chance to move, I whispered, “Don't stop, please don't stop,” and once again her finger began to press against my virgin orifice.

Pressing a little harder against the resistance she encountered, I began to feel a little pain. Suddenly she broke through the barrier and a sharp pain shot up inside me.

“Ahh,” I cried out but she didn't remove her finger. Instead, she paused in her movement until the sharpness blurred from the pain and was slowly replaced by a feeling the like of which I had never experienced. I could feel her moving inside me and it was wonderful!

It was more than I could bear and the movement of her finger and the suckling on my teat combined to produce the most uncontrollable spasm I could ever have imagined. I squeezed down on her hand between my legs and my back arched out of the water.

I cried out such was the joy I felt and, as I slipped slowly back into the water, I began to laugh and then to cry.

Bethany slid slowly up my body and gently kissed away the tears and held me until my senses returned.

“Now you are a woman,” she whispered into my ear. “I will show how to love, my beautiful mistress.”

Twisting her hair through my fingers, I pulled her head back and held her close to my face, looking deep into her blue eyes.

“You will find out too, my love, what a quick learner I can be.” I pulled her to me, mashing our lips together and kissing with a passion I had never known.

I twisted around, splashing water over the side of the tub, so I was lying atop her sweet body, still gripping her hair, our mouths still locked together tightly, tongues darting in and out, then broke away and began to mimic what she had done to me.

I took her straining nipple into my mouth. It had no taste other than the bath water but it felt firm and seemed to grow between my lips as I gently sucked on it and squeezed the soft flesh of her full, round breast between my thumb and fingers.

Now it was her turn to moan and I easily slipped my finger into her hot wetness. I had never felt such a soft, warm, wonderful sensation and I felt light headed with excitement. I could feel her juices inside her, lubricating my finger as it squirmed around, touching and pressing the velvet-like flesh. I found the firm little ribs that reminded me of the roof of her mouth but softer. As I pressed and rubbed them, Bethany began to move her hips, urging my finger ever deeper and her hands pulled my head tighter against her breast.

I began to rub myself against her leg, pressing my petals hard against her, rubbing back and forth in time with the rhythm of my finger, moving in and out of her.

Once again I cried out as wave after wave of passion swept through me and, this time, I was joined by the groans of joy from deep within her.

We sank down together into the water and lay still for quite some time, just holding each other, without need for words.

I felt complete now, satisfied. I never dreamed that what we had just done could be so wonderful.

It was Bethany who spoke first.

“Oi think we should get out now,” she whispered softly, breathing the words into my ear. “Oi'm gettin' cold.”

To be continued...