Amber sank deeper into the steaming bath, her sobs rippling through the water like whispers from a drowning soul. Pain welled up from her core, raw and consuming, settling even in the tips of her trembling toes. The bath’s warmth did little to ease the cold shame seizing her heart.

“I am no better than them, Lydia,” she cried, voice breaking through the veil of rising steam. “Worse even than my husband and his bought mercenary… a man paid to turn me into a spectacle, to make me into a jealous mongrel, a bitch in heat begging to be mounted.”

She pressed her palms to her eyes. “While they all watched! Watched as I was debased by that horrible stableman while I took the General’s cock in my mouth like a wanton harlot – the woman they want me to become for their sordid entertainment!”

Lydia, kneeling beside the iron clawfoot tub, drew her stool nearer. Her voice was soft but unwavering. “You are no whore, my Lady. You are a Duchess.”

“A Duchess?” Amber’s voice curled with bitterness. “One who has never lain with her ‘loving’ husband? Me, a Duchess, one who has given myself to a lover paid to pierce my heart and claim my virgin cunt?”

“Do not speak in such a crude manner, my Lady. It is beneath your station,” Lydia said quietly, lifting a handful of warm, soapy water over Amber’s bare shoulder. “You are hurt. You allowed Joseph to experience the warmth of your love, which you provided without reservation. Do not be ashamed. You are strong, and as much as this pains you presently, it will make you stronger.”

Amber relaxed a little as Lydia soaped her shoulders, allowing the warm water to cascade gently over her bare breasts and trickle down her back, the soothing scent of lavender mingling with the candle smoke.

“How could I have given my heart so easily? How did I allow a man I barely knew to charm me into blissful surrender?” Amber sighed as her lady’s maid continued to massage her shoulders and the slope of her spine. “Am I foolish beyond words, Lydia?”

“You are not, Lady Montgomery,” Lydia responded, her fingers moving with care down her back and then up to gently massage her scalp. “Joseph was a man few women, regardless of their situation, could resist.”

Amber turned slightly, studying Lydia’s face. “Even you?”

Lydia flushed, her hands hesitating before continuing. “Oh.. my yes! Even me.”

“Oh, Lydia. You are too generous in your opinion of me. But I am thankful you listen without judgment to my tales of woe, which must sound like the jealous rants of a schoolgirl.” 

Lydia moved her hand down Amber’s cheek, holding it a moment. “Not all, my Lady. I only wish I could have spared you from such pain. I would take the hurt from you if I could.” 

Their eyes met. Lydia leaned forward, her breath warm on Amber’s cheek. “You know what you mean to me,” she whispered. “I would do anything for you. Anything.” 

Amber nodded, swallowing thickly. “You are not merely my lady’s maid. You are a true friend, Lydia… perhaps the only person I can trust.”

The bathing continued in silence. Lydia washed her hair, her touch intimate but reverent, as if tending to something sacred. Amber allowed herself to calm in the quiet affection. 

When she finally stood, and Lydia began to towel her dry, a premonition seized Amber. She caught Lydia’s wrist. “Were you at all aware that Joseph was hired to… to steal my heart, to take my innocence? To compromise me so I could be subjugated?” 

Lydia froze. Her lips parted, eyes wet with sudden panic. “I…. I….”

“You knew?” Amber gasped, throwing down Lydia’s hand. 

“My Lady, I am sorry!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “The doctor only told me Joseph was not a steward. He said he was…. a gift from your husband. I saw the joy Joseph brought you, the happiness, the light in your–”

“You lied to me! “How could you…” Amber’s voice broke. “You prepared me for him, encouraged me to offer myself to a man bought to ruin me. You dressed me like a painted tart to fuck him!”

“Oh, my Lady, I wronged you, yes.” 

Lydia sobbed, fighting to speak as she fell to her knees. “I believed… deep in my heart of hearts, that he loved you. And I could see you loved him in a way that was much beyond anything I had ever imagined. I thought, in spite of it all, you were made for each other, that there was truly something real between you.”

Amber stood, water trailing down her naked body in silken rivulets. She gazed down, grief and fury warring behind her eyes.

Lydia stared up wide-eyed. “You must hate me, and I do not blame you. Dismiss me, my Lady. I have wronged you. I am deeply ashamed and filled with remorse. But please know—I only ever wanted your happiness”

“How could you have kept such a secret from me?” Amber replied, her voice plaintively stern.

“I did not wish to dash your dreams. I am not of your class, my Lady, and do not always understand the customs of noble men and ladies. I am a simple farm girl… a simple, and very stupid farm girl.” 

She rose to her knees, wiping her eyes. “I am sorry. I will leave and you will never–”

“No.”

“But I–” 

Amber crouched, her breasts pressing against her bare stomach. “I do not wish you gone.”

Lydia burst into tears. She kissed Amber’s hand with desperate gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, my Lady. But I think…” she whispered, voice shaking, “you should punish me, Duchess Montgomery.” 

***

Nestled beneath layers of satin and down, Amber lay beside her lady’s maid—both naked of clothing and pretense. The moonlight softened their forms and the sharp edges of pain.

“I could never punish you, Lydia,” Amber whispered, touching the face of her lady’s maid. “Your only sin was believing I could be happy.”

Lydia traced a fingertip over Amber’s cheek. “Yes, my Lady. But I also harbour forbidden desires… for you. Is it wrong to have such feelings…” she swallowed, “for another woman?”

Amber’s breath caught, but she did not flinch. “Yes, it is wrong. But the secrets we hold privy in these bedchambers are between you and me. No man can judge something he does know exists, has not seen with his own eyes.”

“My Lady, I am yours,” Lydia murmured, her lips grazing Amber’s fingers, “to serve and soothe. You may punish me for my sins. And, if you so choose, to love me in any manner that satisfies and fills you with joy.”

Amber pushed herself closer to her naked lady’s maid until their bodies pressed tightly against each other, crushing their breasts together as they embraced. Their hands reached around and gently massaged each other’s backs.

“Tonight, I want only to be held, Lydia,” Amber whispered. “To be held by someone with whom I can lay bare my soul. There is no shame in what we do as two women alone under the privy of our bedsheets.”

Lydia cradled Amber as if she might break. “I will hold you for as long as you need.”

Amber stared into the glistening eyes of her lady’s maid. “Promise me you will never again keep truths from me, Lydia. No more secrets. Ever again.”

“I swear, my Lady.” Lydia moved her face a little closer, touching Amber’s lips. “I will be your devoted companion, your most loyal servant and if you consent… your truest love.”

“Yes, of course.” 

Amber tilted her chin, brushing her lips to Lydia’s in a kiss not of heat, but of ache—gentle, hungry, reverent. Lydia responded, eagerly accepting and kissing back, moaning softly.

They kissed, held each other, and wept together until sleep at last took them in its arms.

---

Bound and Betrayed, Training Amber Book 4 - by Morgan Rush

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