In the Fury with the Footman (La Belle Epoque Vol. 1)

By Jenycka Wolfe

What, exactly, is a footman to do when he glances through an open door and sees the daughter of the Earl of Astonbury naked, pleasuring herself? Stephen Alistair chooses the path of gentlemanly retreat, but it's too late. The Lady Isobel has seen him. There's no denying the fire she ignites within his body, but he rebuffs her flirtations. He's sworn he will never again be some rich woman's plaything.

Lady Isobel Rochester, unwed and unhappy, languishes in boredom and loneliness at her family's estate in Northumberland. A few youthful indiscretions have edged her out of most of high society, at least as far as marriage is concerned, and the only suitable candidate her father has found who is willing to overlook her reputation is a man she despises. Isobel amuses herself by flirting with utterly unsuitable men, most recently the handsome new footman. She sees the burning desire in his eyes when he catches her pleasuring herself, but, shockingly, he refuses her invitation to come to her bed.

When Stephen and Isobel are stranded in a storm, the barriers between mistress and servant begin to break down. Alone, isolated from the strictures of the society in which they live, Stephen and Isobel are free to cast off their inhibitions and be who they truly want to be. Need takes hold, and in the fury of the storm, they find exquisite passion in one another's arms. But what will happen when the light of day breaks and the real world makes itself known again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jenycka Wolfe
• Release date: Apr 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310967245

Jenycka Wolfe

Jenycka Wolfe has been a teacher, a nurse, a professional journalist, a five-star chef, and, most recently, a private investigator. It was during a stakeout, gathering evidence of one of Canada's wealthiest men's marital infidelity, that she realized her true calling was erotic romance writing. Unfortunately, in her excitement, she gave away her position and the enraged cheater chased her through the streets of Halifax with a tire iron. Jenycka was forced to leap into the icy ocean to escape, and ended up with severe pneumonia and frostbite. Eventually, she had to have three fingers amputated. Now she lives under an assumed name in an undisclosed location, where she has begun to pen her tales.

Book preview

Excerpt from In the Fury with the Footman:

Isobel remembered their conversation of earlier. She remembered that she was naked.

As she watched him lean forward to bury his nose into her female curls, she remembered that she was a woman and that she desperately wanted him.

"You said you wouldn’t be my plaything," she gasped, struggling to stay on her feet. It was a ridiculous position, legs spread wide, straddling either side of a seated man, his face pressed against her most intimate spot. Moisture washed into her sex on a wave of arousal.

"And you said you wanted a lover. His warm breath sent tendrils of sensation through her rapidly-plumping flesh. So I will strike you a deal." His calloused hands began moving up her inner thighs in gossamer strokes.

One hand reached the juncture of her thighs and stroked along the moist seam of her sex lips. Isobel moaned, spreading her legs even wider, wanting to grant him access. Already, that part of her body was swollen, wet, needy. Had she ever become aroused so quickly?

Stephen stroked again, this time parting the lips and moving his finger through her moist flesh. He brushed over her most sensitive spot and she gasped, knees nearly buckling. He continued to stroke and tease, and Isobel knew that at that moment their positions were reversed; she was, indeed, his plaything. When she was certain that she was about to go mad, he thrust two fingers into her, hard and fast, nearly lifting her up with the force of his hand. She raised up on her toes, trying to relieve the pressure.

But then she found herself falling, and she landed sprawled back on the armchair. Somehow, Stephen had managed to get her there without removing his fingers from her cunt.

"Considering the storm, it’s unlikely we’ll be found before tomorrow, he said, leisurely stroking inside of her with one hand while he arranged her legs to spread wide with the other. So I propose a deal. For the duration of our stay here, we can be lovers. That means that we can enjoy one another’s bodies in whatever fashion we wish, whatever we both deem agreeable. But I do mean lovers, my lady." He continued to stroke, curling his fingers to find the spot inside that brought Isobel to the brink.

In the Fury with the Footman

La Belle Époque, Vol. I

by Jenycka Wolfe

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Jenycka Wolfe 2015

Smashwords Edition, License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Excerpt

Title Page

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

A Note from Jenycka

About the Author

Sneak Peek

Chapter One

The breakfast routine at Brackenridge Park rarely wavered. Her ladyship, the Countess of Astonbury took a tray in her bedroom, as was befitting one of her station. Both her daughters-in-law, the future countess and the resentful wife of the younger son, followed suit, though the former would consume no more than a few sips of tea and the latter would shovel down enough food for three. His lordship, Wakefield Rochester, the Earl of Astonbury, along with both the heir and the spare, would eat in the state dining room whilst they discussed the morning’s news, always delivered to them on freshly ironed papers. Peters, the butler, would be in attendance, always ready to refresh the coffee cups, as the footmen tended to the food platters on the sideboard.

There were three variations to the routine this particular morning. First, Lord Astonbury’s old Army friend Sir Neville Grimsby sat in attendance. He was a baron with an estate a half day’s drive away, but he’d taken up residence at the Park for the time being, whilst his own home was being repaired after a fire. The second difference was that the discussion wasn’t simply about the news, but about the fact that some distant Lancashire cousin had died. Third, Peters was not in attendance, having injured his ankle the previous evening. Therefore Garrison, the under-butler, stood guard over the pot instead.

While all this was going on, Lady Isobel Rochester sat, picking at her kedgeree, and wondered what would happen if she’d just open her mouth and scream at the top of her lungs. Or perhaps strip naked and dance a Scotch reel down the center of the banquet table. She halfway suspected that the other occupants of the table might not notice at all.

More likely, she thought as she sipped her cup of chocolate, they’d send her straight to Bedlam. It wouldn’t matter. She was the youngest of the seven Rochester children, the rather embarrassing evidence that Lord Rochester had lacked the gentility to refrain from tupping his wife when she was nearing her fortieth birthday. Most decent men, Isobel knew, had moved on to their mistresses long before that point. They might have saved some face by circulating the possibility that Lady Rochester had dallied with a strapping young gardener or coachman, but for the fact that the unwelcome child had been so inconsiderate as to