Caption: Permanent Disguise

When war broke out in Europe Lady Elizabeth Grosvenor - and her dutiful maid Julia - were caught vacationing in the Swiss Alps. Going back home seemed almost impossible, but when news came that Elizabeth's father died, leaving his only daughter all of his wealth, she had to act. Crossing the border with Italy illegally seemed like a good idea, but the plan spectacularly backfired after Elizabeth - dressed as a peasant girl - was arrested by the Carabinieri. Julia, with all of her mistress's gowns and jewels, managed to escape capture...

Story: The Demise of Lady Charlotte Rhodes

By Jackie J; edited and expanded by Robyna Choleton (re-published October, 6 2016)

How could Lady Charlotte have known the consequences of that casual subtle touch on her breasts that morning by her maid Miss Jacobs?

Lady Charlotte Rhodes, recently widowed, could have resisted her base instincts and passed off what she now knows to have been a devious plan by Miss Jacobs, for what it first appeared, just an innocent accidental touch as she adjusted the bed linen prior to serving Lady Charlotte her morning tea.

Aroused by her maid’s delicate touch, stroking her fingers across Charlotte’s firming nipple Miss Jacob’s scheme was in motion, and having heard the soft sigh from Charlotte’s lips and seeing the wanting look in her eyes, it was now just a matter of time.

Miss Jacobs always had affections for Henry, Charlotte’s late husband, which were frequently returned before he married Charlotte.  With Henry now departed, following an accident in Kenya, which left the estate to his widow, Miss Jacobs’ dreams of one day making Henry and his wealth her own, were over.

Charlotte was not a bad Mistress of the house and she had no problem retaining Miss Jacobs when she married Henry.  She just had no idea of the history between Miss Jacobs, or Jenny as she was known to Henry, and her new husband.

Story: Departing from Milan. Part 3.

by Monica Graz

“Molegunda Apuya, Molly for short, this is your new identity, girl,” Signorina Bonifacio said as she handed me my new Filipino passport.

I picked it eagerly, slightly curtseying as it was automatic for me now and I started opening it. Of course I instantly looked at the photo. I more or less knew what to expect but what I saw was even beyond that.

A young dark woman with Asian characteristics looked back at me; the skin was Indian dark, the eyes moderately slanted and the hair jet black, straight and long, kept in the back with a simple elastic band. Signora and Signorina Bonifacio wanted my hair to be short and easy to maintain for a domestic, but Conchita convinced them otherwise saying that as a Filipina I should be a devout Catholic and the Catholic Church was discouraging women to have short hair.

I could see the white collar of my blue uniform dress and the frilly edge of my white apron bib. I was obliged to wear a maid’s uniform when the photo was taken. Even in my passport photo I couldn’t escape what I became so rapidly in the past few months.