Evil's Niece

by Melissa MacNeal

  ‘Cinderella was despised by her family. Made to perform menial labour,’ the slender blonde responded. She was twitching like a mouse cornered by cats, yet she spoke with conviction. ‘But thanks to a fairy godmother, she went to the ball. She won her prince because she wore the prettiest shoes. And she lived happily ever after. It’s a life I couldn’t even dream of, until I came here!’

  Cinderella’s retort touched me, just as her bright smile bespoke more gratitude than I deserved. All the more reason to send Miss Delacroix packing.

  ‘These maids intend to stay,’ I stated, calmly watching the vixen in red. ‘You’ve received your initial deposit, so tell me what I owe to clear my account, and the matter’s settled.’

  ‘Not by a long shot.’

  Honore stepped in front of each maid, to tip up his chin and scowl as though they’d betrayed a sacred pledge. ‘I never dreamed you’d betray me, after the devotion I’ve shown, and the love I’ve lavished upon you — as though you were my own children. I can’t understand —’

  Cleopatra smirked. ‘You’d teach your sons to fondle each other?’

  ‘So you could watch?’ Antoinette added — and then her head snapped back with the force of Miss Delacroix’s slap.

  Monique went to one side of the headmistress and I stepped to the other, before the fight could escalate further.

  ‘I’ve seen all I need to!’ I said as I ushered the headmistress to the door. ‘When Mr Proffit hears of these grossly inappropriate behaviours, he’ll have your school shut down. I’ll see to it!’

  The woman in red shook me off with surprising strength, brushing her crimson sleeve as though I’d contaminated it with my touch. ‘A noble sentiment, but extremely naive,’ she muttered. ‘How would it look if Mr Proffit’s political contributors learn your maids are actually men in skirts? Consider the stir that will cause — because I’ll see that it does!’

  With all the dignity of a European monarch, Miss Delacroix straightened her spine and stepped out the door Fanny was holding. She hailed her driver, and then turned to me with an acidic grin. ‘You’re going to be sorry we ever met, Mrs Proffit.’

  ‘I already am,’ I whispered as she swayed down the walk.

  * * *

  Inside, however, I was immediately crushed in a hug by Cinderella and her two cohorts. ‘You did it! You and Mistress Monique set us free,’ she sang out.

  ‘You did the right thing, missus,’ Fanny Frike chimed in. ‘Didn’t like that bitch from the minute she walked past me, like she owned the place. Said she was going to march through every room of the house, looking for these three — starting in the music room!’

  Images of frisking around the piano naked, and Monique slapping my ass, made my bravado slip a notch. Thank God Miss Delacroix didn’t have that for ammunition! Or had she heard our girlish giggles, punctuated by the rowdy sounds of hands spanking bare backsides?

  The young woman beside us, looking triumphantly feline in her black and red leather, smiled as though she knew a lot she’d never tell me.

  ‘It’s the boots,’ she murmured, directing our gazes along their slick, flame-kissed length. ‘Best diversion T-Jon’s ever made me. When I wear them, I always get my way.’

  I now had more questions about our maid situation than before, but I admired Monique for her flair — and for flying in the face of a headmistress who made Aunt Evil seem like a preacher’s wife by comparison. I sensed I’d see that nasty woman again, soon. And I vowed to have my rebuttals ready if she caused trouble during Chapin’s campaign.

  ‘Well, ladies,’ I said, ‘we have a new valet to prepare for — and a masked ball that will astound everyone who attends it. Why are we standing here congratulating ourselves?’

  As the three maids started for the stairway, Cinderella gave me another dazzling smile. ‘It’s the boots,’ she agreed with a breathy sigh, gazing at Monique’s feet. ‘Nothing says “fuck me” like a great pair of shoes!’

  I watched their backsides ascend the staircase, again in awe of shapely legs and swinging skirts and shiny black pumps that gave the uncanny impression of being totally female. Until they stepped on to the first landing.

  ‘My God, Monique, how could you let them come down here without — they’re not wearing panties!’

  The sly maid grinned. ‘It’s a man’s world, Auntie Evil. We girls must use everything — every thing — at our disposal, to win our way. And we’ve just begun to fight, oui?’

  15 Schuck’s Come-Uppance

  ‘So, this is the illustrious Mr Schuck,’ I murmured. Monique and I stood on the landing of the stairs, looking down into the vestibule as Chapin ushered in his new valet. ‘I liked him better from under the table.’

  ‘Everything about him’s short and stubby, non?’ My maid let out an unladylike snort. ‘Little prick! Not fair that he gets my room. If he sticks that thing in my mouth again, he’ll find out Mistress Monique has teeth!’

  He glanced up to find us watching him. A knowing smile flickered on his thick lips: he assumed we were deciding who got him first. His curling, mouse-brown hair fell about his head in no particular style, nor did his black frock coat complement his brown plaid trousers. Why my husband chose this pug-ugly creature as his valet was a question I knew better than to ask. For now, I had to play the gracious hostess.

  ‘And here’s my little lady,’ Chapin announced, smiling brightly as I came down the last few stairs. ‘Miss Eve, may I present Judd Schuck, my new valet? Judd, this is my beloved — and her maid, Monique, who will show you to your room. This is your home now. We want you to feel comfortable and accommodated in every way.’

  I almost laughed, for as Judd wetly kissed my hand he was eyeing Monique, unaware she’d already accommodated him. Blissfully ignorant of how she would put him in his place if he ever put anything up her skirt.

  ‘How very nice to meet you,’ he said. ‘Mr Proffit has told me so much about you.’

  This used up Mr Schuck’s entire repertoire of social niceties, for then the conversation fell into a lull. Had Rémy not come in with a large trunk, I would’ve felt compelled to comment upon the sultry weather, or to ask if he had family here in New Orleans. Any pertinent questions would earn a frown from my husband.

  ‘Well then!’ Chapin exclaimed. ‘I’m sure you’d like to settle in, so while Monique takes you to your new quarters —’

  ‘We’re on our way to the kitchen,’ I replied pointedly, ‘to inform Mrs Frike we’ll be ready for dinner soon. You two gentlemen have many things to discuss, so we’ll not intrude.’

  I started towards the back of the house, knowing I’d set myself up for a lecture later. Monique kept quiet until we’d entered the dining room.

  ‘Well done, Auntie! You’re getting more like moi every day, oui?

  ‘Schuck is not a member of this big, happy family. He’ll be of no more use than breasts on a bullfrog,’ I said with a caustic snicker. ‘And if he finds out about these girls, those toady little eyes will bulge, for sure!’

  Monique’s laughter brought the new maids out of their huddle, where Fanny was demonstrating the finer points of working with fresh bread dough. ‘Come give it a squeeze,’ Cinderella said, waggling her flour-coated fingers at us. ‘It’s warm and soft and springy —’

  ‘Like your ass,’ Cleopatra breathed.

  ‘That’s quite enough,’ the housekeeper snapped. ‘Mr Proffit will soon be home, with his new manservant. A valet’s main function is to inform his employer about what goes on in the household, you know.’

  ‘Spying, yes. And dressing him, and getting him places on time. Rather like a nanny,’ Antoinette remarked. She was kneading her ball of dough with the weight of her body and her powerful hands, which blew puffs of flour at her black uniform. ‘But we’ll soon show the new boy how things are done around here!’

  ‘I’m not showing him anything.’ Cinderella looked at me, her eyes tight with conviction. ‘After the way Mr Proffit watched our spankings the other day, I’m ke
eping my butt covered! If you’ll pardon my saying so, ma’am.’

  Had Chapin shown such predatory interest in the whipping? I’d had my lap — and line of vision — so full of these young men and their pantied backsides, I hadn’t noticed.

  ‘That’s perfectly acceptable, Cinderella. And since Mr Schuck has just arrived, you’ll be meeting him at dinner this evening.’ I watched their arms flex as they worked the bread dough, inhaling the aroma of the warm yeast…imagining how those six hands would feel on my body. ‘And thank you for shifting your beds, so Monique can share your quarters. Things are different for us all, with the staff up to full capacity.’

  Different indeed, I mused as I ambled back through the dining room. Never had I envisioned three male maids, nor a brazen young lady in flame-licked boots, inhabiting the staid, stuffy Proffit home, so the addition of Judd Schuck shouldn’t have made a ripple. After all, he was my husband’s bodyguard — which meant his time would be spent with Chapin rather than spying on us as we prepared for the Mardi Gras gala.

  Yet knowing that uncouth man would sleep in the room beside mine set me on edge. While Monique assisted in the kitchen, I slipped upstairs to dress for dinner — and discovered the adjoining door had been left ajar while Chapin showed his valet the house. The two men were in Judd’s room now, engrossed in talk.

  ‘…and these French doors open to the gallery overlooking the garden,’ Chapin was saying. ‘A convenient escape route, should you or a guest need to come and go unseen.’

  Their conspiratorial laughter widened my eyes, for I’d never known my husband to consider such a thing. Nor had I ever suspected he’d sneak somebody past my own French doors on the way to the garden stairs.

  This is the man who screwed his ‘niece’ in someone else’s courtyard, remember?

  Rather than slide the bolt on my side of the door, I stood stealthily against the wall, where I could peek through its crack for a better view. Chapin was opening the massive walnut armoire, his smile expansive.

  ‘This is for your use now,’ he was saying as he gestured at its drawers and spacious interior, ‘and this door beside it connects to my suite, although it now opens into my closet — one of the few changes I made after my parents’ deaths. Seemed a more efficient use of this alcove area, because now the entry to the attic — this door you see in the wall — is tucked out of sight. It’s seldom used anyway.’

  How interesting, that he’d mention this attic to his valet, but never to me during the seven years we’d been married! I made a mental note to further investigate his quarters, tomorrow when he left for the Cotton Exchange. Then I chose one of my new dresses, a flowing silk print of green, gold and maroon. It buttoned primly up to my neck and disguised almost everything about me. Perfect for a first dinner with the new valet, who already had me seething.

  But it was Chapin to blame for my seeing red and feeling green: Chapin who’d brought this disreputable-looking man into the house and shared confidences with him; Chapin who was engaged in a longer, friendlier conversation with Schuck than he’d shared with me in years.

  And it was Chapin I had to convince of my devotion — because I still wanted his affection, despite Monique and Dewel’s distractions while training me towards this end.

  Things were getting more difficult, however: not only did we have a staff member sleeping between us, but any extra efforts to coax Chapin to my bed would appear contrived. I should’ve attempted this years ago, before my husband was thrust into the political limelight…before my beliefs about true love and the sexualities of the two genders had been shattered — or at least radically altered.

  I would do my best, however. And it had to start tonight, to set the tone for the valet my instincts warned me against liking. Or trusting.

  As I put on my jewellery and smoothed my hair, I wished for Monique’s assistance — she knew how to attract a man’s attention far better than I. She was up to her own devices, however, or she would’ve been standing beside me at that wall, absorbing the men’s conversation and its ramifications for us all.

  In the hallway, I heard Chapin’s voice. ‘Until dinner then,’ he said in a jovial tone. ‘If you find anything in the drawers or under the mattress, it’s Monique’s. Bears watching, that woman.’

  ‘So I’ve noticed,’ came Judd’s reply.

  ‘It won’t be long before my wife realises Miss Picabou wasn’t a wise choice as a lady’s maid. But then, you can’t tell a woman anything! Dinner’s at seven.’

  I slapped my hairbrush against my hand. My husband was acting chummier than I’d ever seen him, as though talking with a good friend from the Beau Monde Club — as though no one else, namely his wife, would overhear his derogatory remarks.

  In the vanity mirror, I practised the calm, gracious smile I would paste on my face throughout dinner: the expression of a wife who believes she’s the centre of her man’s universe. That’s how Judd Schuck had to see me, so that’s how I would act — and Chapin would have no choice but to respond lovingly in front of the help. Schuck had surely noticed we didn’t share the same bed, so it was my mission to refute whatever nonsense Chapin had told him about that.

  I arrived in the dining room, and there among the massive carved table and sideboards, beneath chandeliers of Austrian crystal which had graced this home since Virgilia Proffit designed it, I composed myself. I still had moments when I felt like an outsider, as though I were one of the newer fixtures Chapin had installed, just as he’d converted that alcove to a closet. And while Monique had improved my outlook immeasurably, I realised that only Evelyn Marie Proffit could alter her sense of not belonging here. I had every right to rule this roost. And rule it I would!

  ‘Begging your pardon, Miss Eve. May I have a moment?’

  Judd Schuck observed me from the doorway, twitching in an ill-fitted suit of blue serge. I caught a hint of fresh cologne, slapped on with a heavy hand; his reptilian grin suggested a motive I didn’t want to know about.

  Ever the gracious hostess Chapin expected me to be, I smiled and stepped towards him. ‘Of course, Mr Schuck. I hope you’ve found your room comfortable and —’

  ‘Actually, I’ve found this,’ he said, reaching inside his coat, ‘and I was wondering if it belongs to Monique. Or maybe you ladies share it.’

  The blood rushed from my face. He pulled out a dildo — a far more extravagant style than mine — and brandished it in front of my face. It had two black cocks, long and thick and angled away from each other, and it looked positively lewd, laced together in the centre with ridged red leather thongs that glimmered beneath the chandelier.

  ‘You, sir, are the rudest, most —’ I gasped, grabbing for the toy.

  Judd snatched it away, back over his shoulder. ‘Is it yours, Miss Eve? Despite your unfavourable impression of me, I can keep a secret and —’

  I tried to take hold of it without touching him, but he slipped his arm tightly around me, laughing. ‘Is this one of those things Chapin told you so much about?’ I rasped. ‘If you think for one minute he’ll allow —’

  ‘What’s going on here?’ came a siren of a voice. Monique let a heavy bowl of something thump to the table, and then tried to squeeze between Judd and the door jamb to rescue the dildo. ‘Thief! First you steal my toy, and then you accuse Miss Eve —’

  ‘Unhand them!’ came the cry from the kitchen door.

  ‘Grab his damn leg, Toinette, while I take hold of his —’

  ‘Mr Schuck, you skunk,’ came Cinderella’s shriller outcry, and then she slapped his face soundly. ‘In this household, we respect Miss Eve, and there’s no messing around with other people’s things! So you can just take your hands off —’

  Judd cussed as two sissy maids grabbed his feet and then set him down with an unceremonious whump. Monique snatched the dildo, and then the four of them stood with their hands planted on their hips, scowling at him as I stepped away.

  He leered, thinking his chances for gratification had quadrupled in the last
few seconds — for the maids made an enticing sight with their shiny black shoes and stockinged legs beneath their short French skirts. His expression corrected itself, however, when my husband’s footsteps came down the hallway.

  ‘And what have we here?’ Chapin demanded. He shot a disgusted glance at the four girls before offering his valet a hand. ‘Surely you maids have something better to do than accost my —’

  ‘Does defending your wife’s honour count?’ Cleopatra blurted. ‘We heard her holler, and when we came from the kitchen, this nasty man had snatched something away from her, and had her in his clutches.’

  ‘And what was so important that warranted his landing on the floor?’ He was brushing off Judd’s backside with an indignance that boded ill for the rest of our dinner.

  ‘It was mine, and I recovered it, thank you,’ Monique muttered, wisely concealing the lurid tool behind the fullness of her skirt. ‘I walked in just as Mr Schuck lured Miss Eve into a very…unflattering position. Disgusting, the things he asked her!’

  ‘You are the hired help, and I am the man of this house.’ Chapin’s crystalline eyes glittered with malice for my circle of girls. ‘Don’t you ever take it upon yourselves to manhandle my valet again. Understand me?’

  With a stiff nod, Monique came to check on me, and the other maids beelined towards the kitchen. Before I could ask any questions, she rolled her dark eyes. ‘I’ll explain later,’ she breathed, and then more audibly she asked, ‘You are all right, Miss Eve? If I stepped out of line, I’m sorry, but when I saw him —’

  ‘You caught him in the nick of time. How can I ever thank you?’ I asked as she walked me towards the kitchen door. Once inside, she cupped a hand to my ear.

  ‘We’ll get Stud Fuck — I mean Judd Schuck — on our side by hinting at what we’ll do later tonight in your room —’

  I almost choked on that thought.

  ‘— because then he’ll either keep it a secret — not tattle to Chapin about you and me and this toy I left in his armoire drawer,’ she gushed, ‘or, he’ll tell your husband, and Chapin’ll get so hot he’ll have to see for himself. Or just have you, Aunt Evil! You’re ready for him now. I’ve been working both sides the best I can, non?’