The Earl of Rutherford considered himself something of an expert on female servants. The obviously pretty, brash ones, the ones who spilled out of their dresses, eyed one boldly, and made their availability patently obvious, were almost always a disappointment. They were as unsubtle in bed as they were out of it. The best one could hope for was a few minutes of energetic animal pleasure. Frequently one had to endure vulgar flattery and shrill giggles while one was taking one's pleasure. It was the other kind of servant that generally interested him far more. Miss Moore's kind.

They tended to glide around unobtrusively so that a man of less discernment and experience than himself might not even notice that they were there. And those men thereby would quite unwittingly deny themselves great pleasure. Such creatures, Rutherford had discovered from his not inconsiderable experience, almost invariably were intensely passionate. It was as if they repressed all their sexuality in the normal course of their lives and released it unstintingly for the satisfaction of the man who had seen it hidden there.

Governesses frequently made delightful bedfellows. They generally considered themselves a cut above the ordinary servant and usually were. They would not open their treasures readily to anyone else of the servant class. And yet they could not mix freely with the gentry. They were usually very ripe indeed for a bedding when a gentlemen came along who saw beyond the gray disguise. They almost always wore gray, and it was almost always meant to conceal. Any governess who did not boast personal attractions would probably not be uniformed in gray. Why conceal one's governess if there was no danger of her attracting the roving eye of one's husband or one's sons?