The morning passed, and the afternoon passed as evening arrived Alistair found himself in the hallway with Woodridge, the family butler, by his side.
As he informed Woodridge that he needed to follow him to the guesthouse, a subtle frown appeared on the butler's face, though he remained silent and obediently trailed behind Alistair.
As they made their way towards the guesthouse, Alistair and Woodridge passed through the bustling hallway where various ladies' women were gathered in the drawing room, enjoying tea and conversation.
However, upon seeing Alistair approaching, a wave of panic seemed to wash over them.
They hastily checked their appearance, smoothed down their dresses, and put on their most inviting smiles, attempting to catch his attention.
"Lord Alistair," one of the women simpered, stepping forward coyly. "It's been far too long since you last graced us with your presence.
Won't you stay and spend some time with me today?"
The other women in the room seemed to perk up at her words, their eyes shining brightly as they awaited his response.
However, before Alistair could even formulate an answer, another woman - this one blonde and curvy - pushed her way past him.
"Don't listen to her!" she snapped at the redheaded lady who had spoken first. "You know he prefers my mouth over yours!"
"Is that so?" The redhead retorted sharply as she glared at the blonde woman standing beside Alistair.
Her eyes narrowed menacingly before turning back towards him once more; it was clear that this competition between these two ladies was nothing new for them or anyone else present in this room full of gossiping socialites vying for his attention (and possibly more).
"Lord like my ass better," another voice chimed in from behind them all – it belonged to yet another lady who had been waiting patiently until now but couldn't resist joining into this verbal battlefield over who would be chosen by Lord Alistair today!
The blonde woman who had initially spoken up also piped in, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she added, "Oh yes, everyone knows how much he loves my mouth. You're just jealous because you can't keep up with me!"
The redhead rolled her eyes at this comment and shot back a retort of her own: "Jealous? Please! I could teach you a thing or two about pleasing him if you weren't so busy trying to steal his attention away from me."
As the ladies continued to bicker and argue amongst themselves, each one trying desperately to catch Alistair's eye or ear with their own unique selling points, the air became thick with tension and insults.
"You think you're so special just because he once spent an evening between your thighs?"
The redhead snapped at the blonde woman who had spoken earlier about her preferences in oral sex. "Well let me tell you something, missy – he could barely keep his eyes open when we were together! Clearly, my skills left quite an impression on him!"
The blonde woman scoffed dismissively before turning her attention back towards Alistair himself.
"At least I know how to use my tongue properly," she said coyly while licking her lips suggestively."Lord Alistair knows that better than anyone else."
Her words sent a shiver down his spine as memories of their passionate encounters flashed through his mind... but just as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared.
The air in the hallway became thick with tension as the ladies exchanged heated glances and muttered curses under their breath.
"You bitch," one of them hissed at another, while another responded with a glare and an equally derogatory name-calling.
As the women continued to argue amongst themselves, their voices rising in pitch and volume until they were practically shouting at each other across the room, Alistair couldn't help but feel amused by their antics.
He knew that these ladies would do anything for his attention – even go so far as to insult one another publicly just for a chance at spending time with him.
It was both flattering and infuriating all at once.
Woodridge, standing stoically beside Alistair, frowned disapprovingly at the display of flattery and false charm.
Finally growing tired of listening to them bicker like schoolgirls over who was better suited for him sexually (or otherwise), Alistair cleared his throat loudly enough for everyone present to hear it clearly before speaking up himself:
"Enough!" His voice boomed through the hallway like thunder on an otherwise calm day; silence fell instantly upon those gathered there as they turned towards him expectantly awaiting further instructions or demands from their lord and master (as they saw themselves).
"I appreciate your company and your attentiveness," Alistair began, his tone firm yet not unkind.
"But it is time for you all to depart. You will be escorted out of the guesthouse shortly. You have the choice to continue your work at Shaw Manor if you wish, but rest assured, each of you will be generously rewarded and compensated to ensure your well-being for the rest of your lives."
As Alistair's words sank in, a sense of despair rippled through the gathered women. They had become accustomed to their elevated status at the guesthouse, transitioning from mere maids and servants to living a life of luxury akin to noble ladies.
The prospect of returning to their former roles was a daunting one they could not fathom.
And the thought of leaving behind the familiarity and comfort of Alistair's presence added to their distress.
Alistair could see the mix of emotions playing out on the faces of the women before him – disbelief, sadness, and a tinge of resentment.
It was a moment of reckoning, a reminder of the transient nature of the life they had grown accustomed to within the confines of the guesthouse.
As the reality of their situation sank in, several women couldn't help but burst into tears.
One young maid fell to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably, clutching at Alistair's leg as if begging him not to abandon her.
Another woman started shouting hysterically, demanding to know why he was punishing them like this after they had served him so well for so long.
Alistair remained stoic throughout this outburst, his expression unreadable behind his mask of indifference.
When the chaos finally died down and most of the women had been escorted out by Shaw Manor staff members under Woodridge's direction, he turned towards his loyal butler with a stern look on his face.
"See that they are compensated accordingly," he ordered.
Woodridge, ever the loyal butler, stood by Alistair's side, his expression unreadable but seemed to be happy.
He knew the decision was a difficult one for Alistair to make, but he respected his master's change.
With a heavy heart, Alistair watched as the women began to gather their things, their movements tinged with a sense of finality.
The guesthouse, once a haven of opulence and indulgence, now felt emptier, the air heavy with unspoken goodbyes and shattered illusions.
As the women were escorted out of Shaw Manor, their reactions ranged from disbelief to anger to utter despair.
Some wept openly while others tried desperately to maintain their composure, knowing that any display of emotion would only further enrage Alistair.
One woman who had been particularly close with him over the years stormed up to him as she was being led away by a member of staff.
"How could you do this?" she demanded, her voice shaking with rage and hurt. "I served you faithfully for years! I gave you everything I had!"
Alistair merely shrugged in response, his expression unreadable behind his mask-like features. "You are free to go," he said coldly before turning away from her without another word.
As the last of the women departed, Alistair found himself alone in the drawing room, the silence a stark contrast to the earlier commotion.
He leaned against the back of an ornate sofa, reflecting on the choices he had made and the consequences that followed.
Woodridge entered the room and approached his master with a concerned look on his face. "My lord," he began softly, "all of the women have been escorted out of Shaw Manor except for one."
Alistair raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And who might this one be?" he asked curiously.
"She is the woman you chose this morning and sent here," Woodridge replied carefully."It seems she is not ready to leave yet."
Alistair frowned slightly in surprise before asking, "And why is that?"
Woodridge cleared his throat uncomfortably before explaining how this particular woman had taken a broken glass piece and threatened to cut her own nerves if anyone tried to force her out of Shaw Manor against her will.
He then proceeded to inform Alistair about how they had been unable to persuade or coerce her into leaving.
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VICTOR