Tom Fisher, the game-keeper's son, was mighty proud of his new trousers. The pair they replaced had been threadbare, and he had worn them every day for four years, until they threatened to rip apart every time his enthusiastic friend tried to take the salute. Now, it was restrained by the tweed material, pushing the tough fabric out but with no danger of breaking through. This was a matter of some relief to him.

He sat on a fallen log in the woodland round his home, casually throwing acorns and watching the squirrels emerge shyly to field them, while he took time to consider the extraordinary events of the summer. In the space of a few weeks he had travelled the road from boy to man, and in the process learned a little about the strange behaviour of women. Most startling of all had been his father's reaction on discovering him in bed with two of the housemaids. The relationship between the two had changed considerably since that memorable day.

And Clara Livingston: he thought she was very attractive, but had been surprised to see her change, from the moment he took her virginity, into a wanton creature, and not quite the gentle girl he had fallen for at first sight. Belinda Stourton, on the other hand, was exactly as she had first appeared to be: a girl who enjoyed being bedded — and he suspected he was not the only one to be keeping her satisfied.

Emily Brand had been a sweet innocent, and in many ways, she continued to give that impression, though she had participated in the bawdy game his father had introduced them to, with great gusto. Since then, she had kept her distance, and Tom had hardly seen her. His entanglements with Amy, Elizabeth and Isabelle were hardly real to him. These women were in some ways figures of fantasy: persons of their class didn't normally associate with the likes of him. He was, he knew, just a novelty to them, which would wear off in time.

He heard a shriek from within the wood, and it startled him from his reverie. Plunging into the shadow of the trees, he followed the sound of another shrill cry, until he came upon the sight of Belinda thrown forward over a tree bole, where Mr Pierce the butler, held his long thin spindle in one hand, whilst with the other, scrabbled to pull her skirt up and knickers down before plunging into her belly.

Belinda might be complaining, but she moved her legs further apart to accommodate him better. The effect on Tom of the tableau before him was a prompt stiffening of his excitable part. He unfastened the buttons on his trousers and took it out before it got painful, and stood in the shadow of a tree slowly rubbing himself in time with Mr Pierce's thrusts.

He suddenly cried out in surprise as a small hand reached round his waist and took over from his own. Turning swiftly, he found that young Emily had crept up behind him silently, and now pressed her body against him, her face pink, while she concentrated on what she was doing. Fortunately, Belinda and the butler seemed not to have heard him, and Tom pulled Emily away, shushing her with a finger to his lips, and led her back through the trees to the fallen log he had been sitting on earlier. A squirrel which had taken his place, saw him coming and relinquished his position with a flurry of bushy red tail.

Emily had kept hold of his sensitive part and now sat herself on the log using her free hand to pull her skirt out of the way. Tom was surprised to see she was not wearing any knickers. Her face was flushed and her breathing ragged.

'Hurry up, Tom, I need it badly, ' she gasped, running a finger along her widening slit. He knelt in front of her, and ran a hand up each stockinged leg, insinuating his fingers into the engorged lips, and gently probing her depths. Emily's bottom bounced on the log, and she pushed forward to make access easier. Her fingers worked busily on his upstanding part, which nodded and throbbed its approval of all the attention it was getting.

She pulled his face towards hers, and kissed him as her insides convulsed for the first time. Relaxing a little, she lay back on her elbows, keeping her legs wide apart and gently drew Tom closer. When she could reach his buttocks, she held them in her hands, and pulled him into the vee formed by her legs, her belly trembling as she felt his enlarged part force itself into her soft interior. She felt the rush of her juices as they quickly lubricated its journey up her passage, and gritted her teeth as she felt the tip reach journey's end. She ground herself against him, pulling him hard against her.

'Oh, Tom, I feel wonderful. There is nothing as pleasurable as having you inside me.'

Tom, his concentration all on the feelings he was experiencing, nodded. 'There's nothing more pleasurable than being inside a nice healthy young woman, ' he said, pulling out of her slowly, then, watching her face, pushing all the way back in again.

'It's amazing to think I knew nothing of this only a couple of weeks ago. I feel as if I have been doing it all my life.'

'Doing what?' he asked, momentarily distracted.

'This. Oh god!' she cried, and her eyes rolled up as another wave of sensation overcame her. Tom stared as she rammed her belly against his, quite apparently out of control, and began pumping hard into her.

'I'm going to go pop, Emily!' he told her.

'Oh, yes, Tom. Do it now!' she cried, and bucked against him all the more as he crashed against her, feeling the sudden rise in sensation that marks an impending eruption.

'Yes! Now!' he yelled as he emptied himself deeply into the willing girl. Emily felt the throbbing and pulsing going on and on, and her own outpouring mix with his. Tom leaned forward again to kiss her, then slowly pulled out of her, allowing a milky white rivulet to run down her onto the bark of the log.

Emily slipped to the ground and took Tom's softening part in her warm mouth, licking the juices off gently, while he held her close by the shoulders and back of her head. When she had done, she tucked him back into his trousers, and fastened them. Tom laid her back on the log, and used his tongue to lick the juices off her before they had run far down her legs.

'I'd better get back, Tom, ' she said softly, gently pushing his head away and bringing her legs together. 'But you should know, that any time you want me... ' She smiled.

He got up, and watched her walk back through the wood towards the house. Then he turned and made his way back to where Belinda and the butler had been enjoying themselves.

Belinda had started her day badly, after having overheard the young man she fancied for a husband romping around a bedroom with two well-heeled society girls. Now she had learned from Mr Pierce that Lady Astley was importing a new dresser from France. It was a position Belinda had hoped to fill, and Pierce had known this. He had taken pleasure in imparting the bad news. One day, she vowed, she would do something to hurt him a great deal.

When she got off work for a couple of hours, after the luncheon things had been tidied up and before the preparations for supper began, she had gone out of the kitchen, intending to find Tom. As she set foot beyond the kitchen garden wall, she heard a motor car arrive at the front of the house, and changed direction to peer round the corner of the building.

A black taximeter cab had pulled up in the turning circle, and the driver was making a great effort to hand a young woman out of the back door, and retrieve several boxes of luggage from the rack. Belinda took in the woman's chic clothes, a broad-rimmed hat, and hourglass figure. She wore a pencil-slim skirt which ended just below her knees, and shoes with incredibly high heels. Belinda concluded she was a house-guest, and probably one of Sir Richard's paramours.

As she watched, Lady Astley appeared at the main entrance to the house and leaned over the railing to greet the visitor.

'Arielle! I hoped it was you. Leave your boxes — the driver can bring them — and come in.'

The elegant young woman beamed a smile upwards, then, with short steps and heels which clicked on the Portland stone steps, she mounted them quickly until she was greeted warmly by her Ladyship, and led indoors. The driver of the cab had watched her as she'd climbed the staircase, and now bent to the task of lugging the boxes up the same route. Back in the kitchen, Belinda had sought information about her among the other servants, and Pierce had offered to tell her what she wanted to know in exchange for his usual perquisite. Hence the episode in the wood which Tom and Emily had seen, and hence her consternation now she had learned the truth from the butler.