Mr Borges very seriously peeled the wet towel off me and then rinsed me clean. Taking the dry towel from Mr Asvel waiting behind the door, he quickly dried me and then carried me out to the bed where Colborn and Lance opened the covers and helped tuck me in while Mr Borges pulled the wet towel out. Lance took the towel and sat down by the bed to help me dry my hair.
"You can relax and rest assured now," Mr Borges stroked my head. "Go to sleep. Lance will help you finish dying your hair. In the future, you can rely on him for everything. If you feel uncomfortable, we'll arrange for a female instead. Colborn will need to follow me on some of my business trips, so I can't leave him with you all the time."
I had a nap and when I woke up, Lance was coming in with a steaming mug on a tray.
"Have some hot soup, Miss Ginnan," he said, setting the tray on the bedside table and helping me sit up. "Please forgive me," he turned his head away upon realising I was naked, "I've been insensitive."
He opened the wardrobe and found a new nightie hanging up there.
"If you don't mind, Miss Ginnan," he said, "I'll help you put on a nightgown. I took the liberty earlier while you were asleep to put some ointment on your wounds and mositurise you. Your skin was very dry."
I blinked and nodded slowly, not sure how to respond to this kind of service. Was this normal service or was he crossing boundaries to see how much I would accept?
Lance helped me put the nightie on and helped me out of bed to make sure it hung well. I wasn't sure if it was me or my imagination that his hand lingered when he was tugging things straight. It was probably my imagination, after all, Mr Borges had said he was a reliable gentleman. He had been very professional so far.
After watching me drink my soup, he left.
The next morning, Mr Borges left with Mr Asvel before the sun had risen. Colborn also took his leave. Lance supported me at my bedroom window to watch them drive away. There were only the two of us left in the house now.
When I couldn't see them anymore, Lance and I had breakfast. Or I had breakfast and Lance waited on me. He was a better cook than I expected. My eggs were perfectly done. Not runny and not dry. After breakfast, he had me put on an overcoat and sit down to watch the sunrise, while he cleaned up.
He made sure I was nearby and comfortable with a pot of hot tea and snacks while he went about his chores during the day. At lunch, I accidentally spilled soup on myself and he walked me to the shower. He was very kind. Far better than the carer had been. He didn't tease me either.
He didn't feel comfortable leaving me in the shower on my own in case I slipped and fell again, so after much persuasion, I permitted him to come in and help me with my shower. He found a stool for me to sit on and was very professional as he scrubbed me down. After the shower, while I dried myself, he laid out a massage bed and turned on the room heater.
He helped to moisturise my body while he gave me a very enjoyable massage. I fell asleep and only woke up later to realise he had covered me with a thick towel. After getting up, I realised that he had even moisturised my front and put ointment on my wounds for me again. I really felt he was pushing boundaries but wasn't sure how I should word things. Perhaps he didn't feel he was pushing it?
"Miss Ginnan," he said, coming back into the room and seeing me folding the thick towel. He didn't blink at my nakedness, instead, opened my wardrobe. "What would you like to wear?"
Although I found it somewhat embarrassing at first, he helped me pick out underwear and bra, clicking his tongue when he realised how old they were.
"Miss Ginnan, if you don't mind," he shook his head, cupping my breasts to make sure they sat snugly into my bra cups, "allow me to use some of the money Mr Borges put aside for you and buy you some new clothes."
I flinched at his touch, but when he did nothing else, I forced myself to relax again.
"I don't want to go out," I told him. "These clothes are fine. I don't want to impose on Mr Borges anymore than I already am."
"It's no trouble, Miss Ginnan," Lance told me, helping me pull my shirt and singlet straight to tuck into my skirt. For some reason, he ignored the underwear altogether. Maybe he thought they were too old. I didn't want to embarrass either of us by making a fuss and asking for one, so I stayed silent. He tugged my skirt straight and smiled. "There. You look beautiful."
He led me to the library and I lost myself in the other world of a novel for the afternoon until I fell asleep. When I woke up, Lance was tugging my skirt straight again. It had ridden up. He also covered me up with a blanket.
"Miss Ginnan, you're awake," he saw me stir and helped me up. "Would you like to see what I bought you?"
I frowned and allowed him to help me to the toilet, before slowly walking back to my bedroom. In the room were three simple bags. One contained three pairs of new bras with matching underwear. One contained skin care products. The last bag contained thermal layers and comfortable casual clothes.
"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty, Miss Ginnan," Lance said. "Would you mind trying the clothes on to make sure they fit?"
Since he seemed so eager and didn't seem to have any other thoughts, I agreed, not expecting him to insist he stayed in the room, with apologies, of course, to ensure he had chosen well. Although slightly surprised, I wasn't too shocked. He had been helping me and seen my bare body already after all.
Lance was critical of the bra types he bought, touching and adjusting each one carefully until he was sure they were a snug fit. He did the same with the underwear.
After some time, he put one pair aside.
"I'll have these taken back and replaced," he said with a frown. "They don't suit you quite so well as the other two. I'll also order some other style for you to try."
Then I was directed to wear the thermal layers and casual clothes. Lance appeared very happy with his choices there and I had nothing bad to say. They were warm and comfortable.
Lance took the new clothes to be washed and took me downstairs to the gym where he directed me to perform some gentle exercises. He corrected my form every now and then. I felt his body wrap around me as he did so, giving me a strange feeling. I didn't quite understand what felt wrong, but then other instructors had done the same thing before when verbal directions had been insufficient. It didn't seem that out of place.
Dinner was uneventful and he sat with me to watch television afterwards, carrying me to bed when I fell asleep in his arms. I felt him wash me, brush my teeth for me and tuck me in. I dreamed of being held in strong arms. Perhaps this was what it would be like if I married a husband who loved me.
The next day, he woke me up by drawing the curtains open. While I was still half asleep, he showered me and dressed me, even brushed my teeth for me. A recording was playing in the background. Some sort of instructional lecture on the importance of posture and self-care when serving a master. I didn't really understand it and didn't really pay attention. I thought that perhaps Lance was trying to do some study or self-improvement.
It was only during breakfast that I felt something was wrong. Something wasn't adding up.
"No matter what surprise your master may give," said the man's voice on the recording, "you must maintain a pleasant facial expression as if nothing is wrong. You must stay ready for your master's pleasure and service at all times."
Was Lance trying to hint at something to me?
Later in the shower, the recording was still trying to brainwash me and I realised that something was wrong. Lance had his fingers inside me, saying that this area also needed to be washed clean. I hadn't even realised when his hand had reached that spot. I had been lost in my thoughts or something. I wasn't very sure. Just that I hadn't quite been in the present.
"Don't," I told him, trying to push him away. "Please don't."
"But Miss Ginnan, you'll be the future mistress of the house. You're still too weak to be able to please Mr Borges. You need to improve your stamina and technique," Lance said with an earnest smile.
"He's only taking care of me out of pity," I told Lance. "I'm dirty. He's not going to want me. Especially not when his brother has already touched me."
"You'll be surprised, Miss," Lance told me with sincerity shining in his eyes. "The master has never shown any interest in any other women before. He likes you. He definitely wants to keep you. My uncle told me so. My role is to help you recover and learn to please and serve the master before he formally asks you the question. I have been encouraged to train you into the perfect partner for him. I will train you. Don't resist and make this difficult for the two of us."
"I'm not worthy," I crossed one arm across my bare chest and pushing him away with the other.
"I know, that's why you need to learn to serve. If you feel you aren't suitable to be our Madam, I feel it acceptable if you were his bed partner to help him relieve his stress," Lance said. "I can train you."
"No," I shook my head. "No, thank you. Once I'm better, I'll be leaving anyway. There's no need."
Lance wrinkled his nose at me and then stepped away. I sighed with relief.
"I apologise for being presumptuous then," Lance said with a heavy voice as if he was disappointed in me. "Please allow me to continue serving you then. I have heard that you have been through a lot and deserve tender care. Please allow me to provide you with that."
I nodded and Lance's usual smile returned.