714 Bridle Path Ch. 01

Tatyana walked back and forth in front of the little team while they stood in the grand foyer, addressing them, and giving instructions. This mere entry and greeting space, made almost entirely of white calacatta marble, was larger than her ancestral home back in Redkino Bor outside Nizhny Novgorod. It was meant to impress, with its wide, spacious feeling, with columns and moulded gilt forms along the ceiling. Expensive artwork hung on the walls. A full suit of armour on either side of the grand staircase seemed to watch quietly people in the foyer. She held most of her morning briefings here, because it felt official somehow. Businesslike. It suited her.

She stopped in front of Trilby and adjusted the trim of her uniform's shoulder, which was slightly out of place. The most minor of details, but Tatyana Orlova was a perfectionist where she could be. She spoke to her staff now. "Not that there will be much to do, of course, since we are consistently on top of things and ahead of the game where possible. Still, it is my wish that Mister Winson need do little or nothing but check the daily reports, since he has his own life to live. With any luck, he will simply tell you to carry on, or explain as new situations arise."

"Won't be the same around here without you, boss," Valentina said, standing still while Tatyana inspected her. Unlike her fellow housekeeper Trilby's outfit, Valentina's was downright scandalous. It was a sensuous black material that hugged her curves, the frilly skirt barely clearing her behind, while the bodice was cut so low that it gave her impressive bust an unreal amount of cleavage. Atop her head were a little pair of lace kitty ears she was allowed to wear. "But like you said, we run a tight ship, so we won't let you down."

"The thought never crossed my mind, Miss Prospero," Tatyana replied, and she meant it. This was an excellent crew, with a synergy she had rarely witnessed in any team. Maybe part of it was the environs, and the conditions of their employment, but they were all still exceptional individuals in their field and assigned duties. They'd been selected by Mister Winson to look after Blackwell Manor for that very reason.

There was David Malmsten, the gruff, old father figure of the crew. A man in his mid-fifties, he was an excellent landscaper and handyman, all business. He may have seemed brusque, but he had a daughter in her late teens, and he could often come across as protective of the rest of his co-workers, as if they were his adopted family. In a sense, they were. He was the tallest member of the staff, ruggedly built, and tough as old boot leather. Bald up top, with hair on the sides of his head and a salt-and-pepper goatee, he certainly looked the part of the dad.

Tunde Ontekone, the junior landscaper, stood next to Dave. His full name was Yolatunde, and he was originally from South Africa. He was Zulu, but he had been living here in Canada for some years now, dutifully sending money home to his mother in his ancestral village of Tongaat. Like Dave, he had a gift for landscaping, and a surprising array of practical skills that made him very useful around Blackwell Manor. He was paid accordingly. He seemed shy at first, rather impressionable, but once you got to know Tunde, he was quite a bit of fun. He just couldn't drink at all.

Glenda Richards, the chauffeuse for the Manor. A woman in her late thirties, she was the absolute pro of the group, having done her job as a driver brilliantly for two decades now, both in Canada, and the United States. It was as if she'd been born for the role. Her credentials were as long as the Blackwell Manor driveway, and she could have just about any job or contract she wanted. But she seemed happy here, with her own little apartment over the garages, and still a vital member of the family. She wore her honey-blonde hair in a neat bun and her outfit fit her snugly in all the right places, giving her a professional but still attractive appearance. She even insisted on wearing a little chauffeur's cap, often at a sassy angle, just to distinguish herself.

Ari Jaffe, the young computer guru and cybersecurity expert for the Manor and its residents. Tatyana had never worked in a home that required this position, but since the Chair and CEO of the Blackwell Enterprises empire lived and often did business from here, it made sense that such a position was necessary. Ari was born in Haifa, but he was as Canadian as anyone else on the crew. Brilliant with tech, he had the entire place locked down behind firewalls and protective layers that even NORAD would find frustrating. Personally, he was stylish and hip, which seemed at odds with a profession some might consider 'nerdy'. He wore his dark hair in a crisp fade, and jewel tone-shirts were his norm. All the girls admitted he was fun to look at, even if he was gay.

Theresa Martin, a transplant from Cincinnati, was the chef and sommelier for the estate. An absolutely brilliant cook, she'd run several restaurants and owned a successful B&B before a nightmare relationship had compelled her to simply up and leave the country. She wanted to do nothing more than create excellent food for an appreciative body of people, without the breakneck pace of running a business. She would happily cook for large functions, of course, as they weren't constant, and the slow pace of working for a private family allowed her to express her creativity with cuisine. There seemed to be nothing she couldn't make, from any region of the world. It certainly put her in good stead with her employers.

Marie Jezequel, the immensely talented botanist and arborist from the Brittany region of France. She'd worked in some of the greatest and most splendid gardens in Europe, such as Versailles, and her artistry in everything she touched was evident. Simple flower arrangements on a table could become stunning. She could breed new types of plants, and she worked closely with Dave and Tunde to create gardens on the property that would be the wonder of the neighbourhood once Spring had arrived. Sporting glasses and frizzy brown hair, she was the quietest member of the crew, but she still loved being part of this family.

Andrea Kachelmeier, the estate's resident mechanic, electrician, plumber, and auto mechanic. It sounded like a big set of jobs, but she made it look like a breeze. She was as tall as Dave, with long, dirty blonde hair she kept in ponytails or buns. And while she wasn't hugely muscular, like a woman bodybuilder, she was strongly built, probably rivalling Dave in terms of raw physical power. Her large chest and curvy hips accented her feminine side, and her hazel eyes were always glinting with good humour. She had an excellent working relationship with Dave and Tunde about keeping the place functioning, as well as Ari about making sure the wiring was in top shape for security.

Trilby, in a sense, was the odd one out. She'd been hired on by Mister Winson based on his keen instinct for sizing up people. She'd lived on a commune an hour or so north of Toronto her whole life, until she left it to find employment. She had no resume to speak of, despite being twenty-seven, when she applied to a housekeeping position here at the Manor on a whim. But she had a lot of practical experience from a young age, cleaning up after over two hundred hippies on a natural commune. Once she'd been hired, she proved her worth instantly, keeping the entire Manor spic and span with a rigorous schedule she held herself to, and an attention to detail one would find surprising. She still came across as laid back, especially while wearing her habitual John Lennon shades, but her meticulous nature had led to her being given the position of senior housekeeper.

Finally came Valentina Prospero, the other half of the housekeeping team. In her mid-twenties, Val was a dynamo, and fun to be around. She was the shortest member of the staff, barely clearing five feet, but with a ridiculously sexy figure stuffed into her scandalous outfit. She wore her full brown hair in a bob (a recent change many were amused by), and her dark brown eyes radiated excitement and cheerfulness. She'd been a housekeeper to several wealthy families for the past few years, and came highly recommended. Dave had declared her the staff's mascot, and while everyone else laughed, Val just made a show of pouting and sticking her tongue out at him. She was also unofficially the personal attendant and servant of the Master and Mistress of the Manor, Mike and Karen DeBourne, and everyone knew she was also their lover, even if it remained unspoken. She was happy, and that was all that counted.

Tatyana had been a seneschal to other families before, looking over various staffs and households, but never had one been quite like this, nor had she enjoyed any previous job so much. She was glad everyone had been offered permanent employment. She was diligent and always prepared, and as a result, the job was relatively easy; to make sure everything ran smoothly, so that the unexpected could be dealt with, which wasn't uncommon in this place. They had everything down to a steady rhythm, and even an art.

So she didn't at all feel apprehensive about leaving to see her father in Ottawa for her birthday for a few days.

***

Disclaimer: All characters are 18 years of age or older while actively engaging in sexual activity. This story is a spinoff from my current main story in the Alexaverse, 'Mike & Karen'. As a result, it references many people and places featured in my other Alexaverse stories, just be aware of that before starting in. As always, many thanks and gratuitous panty shots from Freja and Jeanie to my long-suffering editor and beta-reader for their assistance in polishing up and improving this work. Reviews are welcome; flames will be snickered at and deleted with extreme prejudice. Enjoy!

Please Note: There are incest themes with a secondary couple in this story. Just a forewarning.

714 Bridle Path, Chapter I- "You're So Lucky!"

"As you all know, I'm heading to Ottawa later this week to see my father, he is insisting on seeing me for my birthday," Tatyana said as she stood in front of her crew, wearing her habitual skirt-suit. At first glance, it seemed a simple grey, but it was also layered with fibres of other subtle colours, from gold, beige, brown, roan, or black, giving the material a sense of rich depth. It had been a gift from her employers when she'd been hired on permanently as seneschal a few weeks back. Each of the employees had been given some gift to welcome them that was somehow thematic to their personality or responsibilities. Whether it was expansive tool sets they'd only ever dreamed of owning, or uniforms that complemented their stations, everyone had been thrilled. "He's in his seventies now and slowing down a little. It's time once again for me to go sit at a table with him in his kitchen and listen to him go on about 'life back in old country'."

A few of them chuckled, since she'd put on an exaggerated Russian accent for the last bit of her statement, sounding like Natasha Fatale from the Rocky And Bullwinkle cartoons. Tatyana might have seemed dour at first, but actually had something of a sense of humour once you got to know her. She was a very good conversationalist after hours. During the day, though, she was all business. But by now, it wasn't a disconnect for any of them, it was just the natural order of things.

"But he's all right otherwise?" Andrea asked.

"He hasn't told me of any new health issues, he simply has the chronic condition of being a cranky old Russian peasant who survived the Soviet era," Tatyana replied, eliciting more laughter. "And if that doesn't kill a man, few other things will, except for the passage of time. No, this is just my annual visit, to see how he is doing and to update him on my life. He doesn't know how to use a computer or a cellphone, so it's either a long call on a landline, or a five-hour trip to see him in person. I chose the latter, since we are currently running smoothly."

"Guess you'll be drinking more of that vodka and burnt toast stuff, won't you?" Dave posited, smirking.

"Ugh, do not remind me," Tatyana said sourly, shaking her head as she remembered the kvas her father and his compatriots drank. "Absurd peasant ritual from old country. How bad must one's homemade, illegal vodka taste that dripping it through burst toast improves the flavour?"

"Sounds like my brother's backyard amasi," Tunde mentioned, making a wry face at the memory. "But could I convince him it was terrible?"

"You barely drink alcohol to begin with, so I'm not sure I'd take your word for it, T," Andrea quipped, making the others laugh. "Remember St. Paddy's Day?"

"I would rather not," muttered the black man, scowling. "Green beer is a stupid idea."

"Fortunately, it is nowhere in your contract that you are obligated to drink, Mister Ontekone," Tatyana interjected, getting the conversation back on track. "Besides, I am not leaving for a few days yet. I just wanted to start preparing now. In my absence, Mister Winson has graciously agreed to step in and take over my role. While I frankly believe that you lot don't actually need all that much supervision at the moment, our employers would no doubt find it assuring that we have taken care of matters without bothering them. And Mister Winson knows this place and this job better than I ever could. He was seneschal here for longer than I have been alive, after all."

They all nodded. Jordan Winson was the former seneschal of the Blackwell estate, working first for James Blackwell, head of the family from the Second World War era through to the mid-seventies. Jordan then worked for Jonathon Blackwell, father of the current owner and executor of the estate, Karen Gordon-DeBourne. Jordan had been instrumental in raising Karen, and one could not readily overstate how important the old man was to the heiress. He may have served her, but she treated him reverently, as if he was a blood member of her family. Everyone on staff also treated him accordingly. He was in his late eighties now, and while he would nominally be in charge, everyone understood that Tatyana expected them to give him nothing to worry about.

"He will no doubt call staff meetings and ask for progress reports," she continued. "We are doing what we can to make sure this place is ready for the housewarmings, and myriad guests, some of whom are very important to our employers."

It was true. Not only would many well-known people from the neighbourhood be present (Ari, Andrea, and Val couldn't wait to actually meet the megastar rapper who lived down the road), but also members of several members of their employers' families. Members of the Blackwell family would be present, not only from Canada, but also the branch of the family that lived in England, members of the U.K.'s aristocracy, holders of prominent titles. The head of the British family was a carquess, the Lord Hastings, also holder of many other ranks of nobility. But since he was too old (and seemingly crazy) to attend, he would be represented by his eldest son, the Earl Bolingbroke, and his daughter, Baroness Belasyse. Also, the Marquess of Huntley, Lord of the Gordons, and chief of the Scottish peers, would be here.

It struck them all as somewhat strange that if the elder line of the Blackwells hadn't abdicated the titles back in the early Victorian era to come to the New World and pursue vast fortunes, then Karen Gordon would currently be the matriarch of the one of the most powerful and influential families in the Commonwealth, and directly related to another.

Also present would be the DeBournes, the family of Mike, head of the household. Unlike his beautiful and imperious wife, he was from Northern Ontario, a little town called Kapuskasing. His family were blue-collar, lifelong tradespeople, but Orion and Annette DeBourne had given birth to a genetic phenom, a giant of a man who was Karen Gordon's equal in every way. They'd been married for thirty years now, and madly in love even longer. Karen may have been the heiress of her family's empire, but Mike was the mighty patriarch, and Karen would have it no other way.

"That being said, I expect everyone to be especially mindful of Lady Penrose," Tatyana announced, holding up a finger. "I know I am the one who tends to the countess casually, but you will be picking up my slack for a few days. Fortunately, the lady seems capable of entertaining herself for the most part. Just remember to keep hangover remedies stocked, and be sure you all know how to make them."

Another round of laughter. The Countess, Lady Jenny Penrose, was Karen's oldest and dearest friend. They'd been deeply in love before Karen had met Mike. The Countess of Greymoor was a gorgeous, lively, and energetic woman, despite being nearly fifty, and prone to partying a little too hard. Tatyana hadn't been kidding about the hangover remedies. Whatever else might be true about her, everyone loved Jenny, and she was a lot of fun.

"Marie, I know you're still working on your designs for floral arrangements around the house and early spring displays outside, for when our guests arrive," the seneschal said, looking at the frizzy-haired botanist. "We have time, so just make sure you meet your own exacting standards. David, Tunde, you will be working on our early Spring landscaping, doing what we can to make the grounds presentable. Just make sure you're available to help Andrea as needed with her projects."

The two men nodded.

She looked at Ari. "You and young Master Alex are developing some kind of temporary firewall and protections for the visitors, especially the drop-in guests. They're protected from being hacked as long as they're here, yes?"

The young Jewish man nodded. "That's the hope. It's proving tricky, as you can imagine, but Alex is a big help. I promise we'll be as ready as possible to protect everyone, and our own networks as a result."

Tatyana nodded. She had no idea how Ari would do what he was doing, it was all gibberish to her. But she trusted him to come through. He had nothing better to do, after all. She addressed Theresa now.

"I already know you are well ahead of schedule concerning the daily meals, even once all the guests arrive. And the food for the two housewarmings is also being seen to. Carry on."

Glenda smiled and nodded as Tatyana stood in front of her. "Per the mistress of the estate, seeing to the Lady Penrose's transportation needs supersede most other considerations, barring an emergency. I don't need to explain why, we all know the countess by now. The larders and storage rooms are crammed full of whatever Theresa has planned for the next two weeks, so her needs will be few. The DeBournes will be getting themselves to and from the university."

The chauffeuse nodded and smiled. "Wherever I'm needed, boss."

That left Trilby and Valentina, who were reasonably certain they knew what instructions they were in for. "You already keep the place clean as a whistle, so stay at it. Attend to Lady Penrose as readily as you would our employers. But you already knew that."

The two women curtsied, Valentina with a practiced ease. She'd been a housekeeper to quite a few other wealthy families before this.

"That is everything, then," Tatyana announced, spreading her hands wide for emphasis. "The duties for today seem light, but be ready for tonight, since it is the official opening of our very own lounge on the second floor."

They all looked very pleased, whispering to one another while Val almost squealed, bouncing slightly and clapping her hands in excitement, which had a decidedly pneumatic effect on her lush figure that the others found hard to ignore, even Ari. Tunde didn't even try to not stare.