I had hoped to post something much earlier and although,
thankfully, things are slowly improving for me, achieving the required focus to
put something together is proving harder than I had anticipated.
This story was not the one I had intended to write- a few
months ago I had started another but abandoned it after 3k words as I just
could not get it right- hence the delay posting this one. When/if my concentration returns I’ll try to finish
it as I think it has potential.
I’ve rewritten this
one a few times, it could (and should) have been longer but if that was to
happen, heaven knows when I would finish it. Spoiler alert – the image doesn’t
reflect the exact narrative.
Once more, a very big thank you to those who posted their
support and best wishes over the last few years, it meant so much at a very
difficult time in my life and I am very grateful.
Hopefully you will enjoy this.
Take care
Carrie
Debut
By
CarrieP
rs. Lavinia
Dalloway sipped her sherry and smiled at the young man sitting next to her on
the large damask sofa.
“There is
no need to be so fearful Georgina.” she said “The ladies are my dearest
friends, I have told them about your circumstances and they are so looking
forward to making your acquaintance , so please don’t make me regret inviting
them. Besides, I think we will both need their help.”
Fearful was
a gross understatement, he felt a panic rise inside him at her words. He knew
this moment would arrive sooner or later, nevertheless he was dreading the
prospect. He briefly thought about fleeing the room but knew he would not reach
the door before she rang the servants’ bell and his foolish and impulsive
reaction would immediately be terminated by two of her larger housemaids. He
recalled with shame the one and only time he had tried such a misguided course,
it was a far more humiliating experience than even his present shameful predicament
and not one he wished to repeat unless there was a reasonable chance of
success.
Although his
stomach was churning, he now knew better than to express any discontent.
Sullenness was greatly frowned upon and he did not wish to find himself
incurring her ire. He had come to know what was expected and repressing his
shame he managed a well practiced smile and at the same time lowering his eyes
in an unspoken display of obedience.
“What a bashful smile.” Mrs. Dalloway said, as
she caressed his face, clearly delighted with his performance. She always
seemed uncannily aware of what was going through his head. “What a clever boy
you are, you are learning much quicker that I would have hoped. However, you
still seem rather uncomfortable, did Maria lace your corset tighter than
usual?”
Unable to
meet her gaze, he blushed as he recalled how Maria, Mrs. Dalloway’s lady’s maid,
had insisted he wear a longer corset and it should be laced an inch tighter than
usual so the satin gown he was now wearing would fit him correctly.
He had been
made aware from the very beginning of his incarceration, which is what he
considered his present situation to be, that an instruction from Mrs. Dalloway’s
maid carried the same authority as from her mistress and was to be complied
with without question. His first attempt
at rebellion when confronted with the new dress code imposed upon him was a
most humiliating one, even more than wearing the actual garments themselves,
and again, one he had no wish to repeat. Such was the level of his abasement he
determined he would have to wait until he was absolutely sure of success before
another bid for freedom was made. His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Dalloway.
“Yes, she
can be a little over-zealous when it comes to lacing one’s stays.” she remarked
as she fussed with his lace collar “But, like all good lady’s maids, she knows
which gowns are less forgiving to one’s figure and as such require a more
restrictive foundation. You are still just a trifle too big for some of my
daughter’s gowns but in time you will have your very own wardrobe.”
She paused and
smiled wistfully as she took in the sight of the feminised youth sitting beside
her before continuing,
“Such a
pity Caroline is abroad, as you know by now she is not as fashion conscious as
I would have hoped and tends to favour less feminine clothing which, as her
mother, I find most disappointing but
I’m sure she would be most curious as to how her clothes appear on someone else
and I have no doubt she would greatly approve of your appearance. I think the
idea of a male wearing her clothes would appeal to her.”
She laughed
lightly at and looked to see his reaction. He deeply resented her remarks but
despite this he had no wish to incur her displeasure. He believed this was
her way of testing him, he subdued his anger and once again forced himself to
smile. It had the desired effect and seeing there would be no display of
petulance, she continued,
“As I’ve said, you have made progress in
assuming a reasonable feminine pose, however, I had hoped you would be a little
more advanced. I confess, I am a little disappointed
that you have not yet mastered other aspects of femininity but I suppose that
will come in time.”
His heart
sank and he had to stifle a moan. The thought of a future being forced to dress
as a female horrified him.
“But I
thought...”he began, however, she was becoming more enthused at the idea and
ignoring his interruption she persisted in the same vein,
“Of course
we will also have to get you your own lingerie, petticoats and hosiery. You
can’t keep wearing mine or Caroline’s. It will be delightful to visit the
various clothing shops together. Caroline detests such mother and daughter expeditions
so it will be a refreshing change to have someone agreeable to accompany me.”
“A...ah...”
a pathetic whimper left his mouth at the mention of such an outing and what it
would entail. It seemed as if there was no end to his torment.
A knock on
the door interrupted her, a primly uniformed maid entered, curtsied and announced
the arrival of her visitors. She rose gracefully from her seat and greeted them
with kisses to the cheek. She then nodded to the young man and in a reasonably
lithe motion he lifted himself from his seated position. The women looked
towards the boyish figure, dressed in a gown of cream satin and brocade with an
elaborate frilled hem and large bows. He cringed as he saw them exchange
knowing glances as he knew what they were thinking- a weak emasculated male forced
into ladies clothing. The shame cut him like a knife. Like them, he was obviously tightly corseted
but it was also quite obvious that, unlike them, he was clearly not used to the
experience. He could clearly see their faces were unable to disguise their
elation.
“Ladies.”
Mrs. Dalloway with a wave of her hand announced to her friends, “Let me
introduce George, or Georgina as he is now known, the latest addition to my
household.”
The ladies
took in the sight of the obviously disconcerted individual before them, a
familiar crimson glow began to rise in his cheeks. Mrs. Dalloway, if she was
aware of his extreme discomfort did not show it and warming to her theme
continued,
“Addressing
him as George would only draw unnecessary attention to our circumstances and I
really did not wish to embarrass the dear boy. We settled on Georgina as a more
suitable name, you answer to it quite comfortably now, isn’t that so Georgina?”
Trussed up
in such feminine garments and unable to escape the young man was in no position
to contradict her. His utter shame at his circumstances restricted his answer
to a nod.
“Exquisite!”
Mrs. Constance Carmine blurted “It is hard to believe it is a male, such
delicate features.”
“And such a
wonderful figure.” Lady Maud Cockshott added “Any girl would be delighted with
such a silhouette . I see you haven’t spared him the corset.”
Mrs
Dalloway smiled at the young man before replying,
“Oh, at
first he did find it, like his the rest of his new feminine attire a little...
shall we say...objectionable... but we soon came to an understanding, isn’t
that correct Georgina?”
He felt a
tingle down his spine, the events of that day would be etched in his mind
forever.
In Mrs. Dalloway’s boudoir, naked and vulnerable , she stood over him holding a silk
lavender chemise and matching pantaloons in her hands, two rather hefty housemaids
brandishing leather straps stood behind
her, smirks on their faces as they watched him tremble at the prospect of been
forced into women’s lingerie. He had already seen one of them lift a sturdy
chair over her head with one hand and immediately understood the hopelessness
of his situation, he was in no position to defy her. Desperate to hide his
nakedness he meekly accepted the feminine garments and to the obvious amusement
of the housemaids he quickly struggled into them and as he did felt part of his
masculinity slowly ebb away. He pleaded with her to spare him the corset but to
no avail and as the housemaids moved closer he abandoned any hope he had of her
relenting. He turned his back and offered no resistance when she placed the
heavy corset around his torso, standing behind him she instructed him to hold
onto the bedpost as she began lacing him into the hideous garment. Within
seconds he could hold back no longer and quietly he began to sob. She tried to
comfort him with every tug of the lacing, gently explaining that a gown could
not be worn without a corset and it was absolutely necessary if he was to fit
his new clothes properly. She slipped two moulded pieces of rubber inside the
overbust corset which gave the
impression of a small but obvious bosom. The maids helped her place the
petticoats over his head , one silk and two taffeta. This is what he later
realised created the uniquely feminine swishing sound when he moved, even the
slightest activity with his legs brought produced a rustling noise. Once buttoned
into his gown the maids held out trays laden with various creams and lotions
which Mrs. Dalloway applied to his face and after several minutes she led him to
the full size mirror to view the results. He gazed in shock at the mirror, the
reflection showed an obviously corseted feminine figure but with a face that he
only vaguely recognised as his. The
veneer of the various preparations Mrs Dalloway had applied seemed to soften
his features and he had to look every closely to discover the face he
recognised as his own. He recalled, much to the amusement of her maids, Mrs. Dalloway remark that although he did not resemble Botticelli’s Venus he made a
reasonable female facsimile.
From that
day on he meekly accepted the rest of his new feminine attire without further
objection and so began his nightmare as Mrs. Dalloway’s feminised plaything, to
be dressed and undressed as a girl would do with a favourite doll.
The
recollection of this abject surrender of his masculinity almost brought tears
to his eyes but he knew better that to
show such emotion, he could only squirm under the restriction of his corsets
and the heavy weight of his silk and taffeta petticoats
Of course,
these were not the first women to witness his humiliation. Since he first arrived in this exclusively
female household barely a week ago, Mrs Dalloway’s domestic servants viewed and
seemed to rejoice in his ignominy on a daily basis since. Although they never
laughed at him out loud he was nevertheless aware of the amusement they found
in his predicament and they always found ways to belittle and humiliate him,
making a point of complimenting his gowns, commending his figure or complexion,
the bows he had to wear in his hair. If
Maria was busy with her mistress, there was no shortage of volunteers among the
housemaids to act as his personal maid when dressing or undressing.
And now he
was to be paraded in front of yet more women, albeit of a more genteel and
hopefully, more understanding, nature.
“Georgina”
Mrs. Dalloway snapped, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you forgetting your
manners?”
“I’m sorry
Aunt Lavinia.” he said as he held the side of his skirts and curtsied to the
ladies.
“How
delightful, he can curtsy.” Lady Cockshott giggled and clapped her hands like
an excited circus animal.
“Just like
a real girl.” Mrs. Carmine chortled with a wide grin.
“Aunt
Lavinia?” Mrs. Armstrong asked her host with a look of surprise.
“Why don’t
you serve sherry for our visitors Georgina, and I will explain our new
relationship.”
In a rustle
of taffeta and satin the ladies settled themselves on their chairs and watched as
the young man move across the room to the sherry decanter, the bustle of his
skirt swaying gently from side to side.
“He even
walks like a girl.” Lady Cockshott blurted loud enough for him to hear.
“You have
trained him well Lavinia.” Mrs. Carmine said admiringly. “We are most eager to
hear how you did it.”
“Oh it
wasn’t that hard, Maud.” she said loudly enough for the young man to hear, they
all kept their eyes fixed on him as he filled their glasses and placed them on
a tray. ”Once he was in a corset and petticoats he learned reasonably quickly.
Of course, he is still not fully trained but he is making progress.”
As the
ladies listened intently, Mrs. Dalloway recounted how she had encountered the
young man during a long return journey from Paris where he had been employed as
a tutor but had to leave for reasons that he was extremely reluctant to
explain. In anticipation of his
departure from Paris he had applied for various positions in London but unfortunately
had no success. Without employment on his return, with no references, and not
to mention being extremely low on funds he would have difficulty finding
lodgings and more importantly, a new position. Taking pity on him she kindly
offered him a place to stay until his prospects improved, naturally, he was
delighted and accepted her offer immediately.
“But how
has he come to wear ladies clothing?” Lady Cockshott said smiling and as the
feminised young man approached them, she took the sherry from the tray and
caught his eye, his cheeks were now quite red with shame. “Oh no need to be
embarrassed my dear, you do look quite fetching.”
“A trifle
gauche perhaps.” Mrs. Carmine added “But then most girls your age usually are.”
“It appears
his luggage was mislaid on arrival in London from the boat train and on his
first night staying here one of the maids was extremely clumsy while serving
dinner and spilled soup all over him.” Lavinina explained. “Of course, I
couldn’t have the poor boy spend the rest of the evening in wet and soiled
clothes. After his bath he had to have something to wear so I gave him one of
my nightgowns, a peach satin one as I recall, and a matching peignoir to wear.
As you know I have very high standards for my domestic servants and by way of
making amends I insisted that he witness the girl’s punishment for her ineptitude
with six strokes of the paddle.”
With utter
mortification, he did indeed recall his initial introduction to female clothing
with great shame and regret, in his defence he had tried to object to wearing
such womanly nightwear but now naked and without any clothes of his own he had
little choice. The sensation of the
delicate feminine fabric on his skin provoked a bewildering and unwelcome
stirring in his male organ and he was grateful that the looseness of his
peignoir helped in some way to disguise this unfortunate occurrence. He also
recalled that the look on the maid’s face , despite the degrading punishment
she was receiving, she was clearly amused at the young man forced to wear her
mistress’s satin nightgown. In the days
that followed he was to suffer that look on a daily basis from all the other
servants.
After he
had distributed the drinks, Mrs. Dalloway called to him and patted the seat on
the sofa next to her and gestured him to sit. Shamefully, he had to admit to
himself he had quickly mastered the art of arranging a woman’s bulky skirts and
bustle and lowering himself gracefully on to the seat. She had made him
practice for hours to ensure he performed the manoeuvre correctly. It was
obvious that the ladies were full of admiration at the results of his training.
“Such poise
my dear.” Mrs. Carmine complemented him. “I wish my daughter was as refined, she
is so awkward. I may ask you to give her lessons. But please continue Lavinia.”
Mrs
Dalloway took a sip of her sherry before returning to her account.
“Well, the
following day the cook informed me that the laundry woman that had taken his
clothes had sent them to another house by mistake but was unsure of which one. As
there is no male clothing in the house there was no other option but to dress
him in some of Caroline’s clothes. As you know Caroline is currently at
Finishing School in France. Having just returned from several weeks travelling
in Europe I was far too busy and in no mood to spend time purchasing male
clothes and as it was a Bank holiday on the Monday he had no choice but to
continuing to wear what clothes I provided.
“Including
corsets and petticoats?” Mrs. Armstrong enquired, her eyes scanning his feminine
clothing for signs of a ruffled petticoat hem.
“Naturally
Rebecca.” Lavinia replied “Have you ever worn your gown without a corset and
petticoats. It would not be seemly.”
They
laughed at the very idea.
“But did he
not protest?” Lady Cockshott asked, she too, fixing him with a curious stare.
“Well it
was either wear the clothes provided or leave naked.” Lavinia snorted as her
eyes met his it was quite obvious she too recalled the first time she laced him
into her corset.”Of course, at first he was dreadfully ungainly, lumbering
across the room but once I introduced him to a full corset, tapering to his
knees, it quickly resolved that particular issue. He now has a reasonable
feminine gait.”
“Ah yes,
those ghastly garments.” Constance Carmine grimaced at the mention of the item.
“My mother used to make me wear one when I was his age to ensure good posture
and an elegant feminine carriage. She considered I was picking up too many
masculine traits from the stable boys.”
She smiled
with empathy at the shamefaced youth before continuing,
“At first
they feel like truly dreadful devices, my darling boy.” she commiserated, “but
unfortunately quite necessary if one is to achieve an ideal feminine walk. It
would be impossible to wear a gown such as yours without one, you would look
far too masculine and attract too much curiosity, which I expect is the last
thing you want. I clearly remember I fought against it at the time, however in
retrospect, Mother was correct to force me into one. I’m sure in time you will
feel the same.”
He took no
comfort from her remarks and they only served to increase his resentment but he
knew quite well that a display of surliness would not be received well and he
could quickly find himself face down over Mrs. Dalloway’s knee. He acknowledged
her observations with a practiced timid smile.
“You still
have not explained him addressing you as ‘Aunt’”. Rebecca asked once more.
“On his
first day I dressed him in one of Caroline’s old gowns and I was struck with a
vague resemblance to our family. Maybe it was the way he fitted the dress, his
eyes or mouth, the tilt of his head, perhaps I was imagining it, I really don’t
know. We were here in the drawing room when I was considering this when unfortunately,
I had an unannounced visit from the Duchess of Thomand.” Lavinina explained
“Obviously I could not refuse to meet her but knew I would have to explain the
presence of my companion. I could not say I had a young male stranger that I
had only met on the train residing with me, the Duchess would take a very dim
view of such an arrangement it. As I had
to make an introduction, the first thing came into my head was the familial
similarity, I knew the Duchess has poor eyesight and vanity prevents her from
wearing glasses so I introduced him as my niece, Georgina, who was staying with
me for a few days. Of course the poor boy almost fainted and was barely able to
curtsy when presented to her. However, the Duchess was most understanding and
insisted on giving him some smelling salts.”
Mrs. Dalloway turned to him,
“Tell the
ladies what the Duchess said, my dear.”
He hesitated but a stern glance from her was
enough to let him know the consequences of remaining silent.
“She said...”he
began, in a faltering voice that clearly betrayed his shame, “...that she was
delighted to see I was tightly corseted
and I was a credit to my aunt, as
lately, there seemed to be an alarming tendency in some young ladies to abandon
corsetry completely.”
“And?” Mrs. Dalloway prompted him in a serious tone.
“She also
enquired if I was experiencing ...”he began, his eyes pleaded with her, but as
her brow wrinkled in impatience he knew he had to complete the sentence , he
could feel tears of shame well up but continued with a noticeable crack in his voice “...if I was experiencing a girl’s... monthly sickness.”
Days of
pent up humiliation and shame finally rose to the surface, tears began to
trickle down his face as he sobbed,
“And during
such times I should inform my lady’s maid that my corsets should be laced even
more tightly as it would help alleviate the symptoms.”
“Oh you
poor boy.” Lady Cockshott said as she moved to the sofa next to him and gave
him a maternal embrace. “But you really shouldn’t be upset. Isn’t that right
ladies?”
Through the
tears, he looked at her blankly.
“Of course
not.” Mrs. Armstrong agreed.
“Don’t you
realise,” Mrs. Carmine said “there are not too many young girls that the
Duchess treats with such sympathy she is usually much more direct. You should be delighted.”
“Yes.” Mrs.
Armstrong agreed “Her Grace is usually less patient with girls of your age. You
obviously have made quite the impression on her.”
“And
therein lays the problem, ladies.” Mrs. Dalloway said as she patted the young
man on the knee. “The Duchess regards this fashion of young women abandoning
their corsets as a threat to the moral order and has invited me to a lecture
later this afternoon on this very subject by one of the organisations she is
the patron of. As you have gathered, she is quite taken with Georgina and
insisted that he accompanies me.”
This was
the first the young man had heard about such an invitation and the thought of
appearing in public dressed as a girl was enough to make him dizzy. He again
looked towards the door but the thought of escape was as far away as ever and a
refusal to accompany her was out of the question.
“Oh dear,
he is getting a fit of the vapours again.” Mrs. Dalloway said and she produced a
bottle of smelling salts to revive him.
“Well, that
certainly is quite the feminine reaction.” Lady Cockshott snorted to the
amusement of her friends.
“He is
obviously more of a girl than he thinks.” Mrs. Carmine tittered. “You really
have trained him well Lavinina. He would not be out of place in a girls
boarding school.”
“It’s no
wonder the Duchess believed him to be female.” Mrs. Armstrong gave a barely
disguised snigger. ”Swooning like a schoolgirl.”
“This is
becoming quite a habit Georgina.” Mrs. Dalloway
chided him gently as she threatened him with the smelling salts once more
“ I do not recall Caroline being so overcome quite so often and she is a real
girl. I do not know whether to be pleased or irritated.”
He could
only silently groan at her remark, however, even as the effects of the smelling
salts began to wear off he was conscious not to make any remotely hostile
comment. Mrs. Dalloway turned to her friends,
“Now you
see my dilemma, ladies.” she said gesturing to the feminised youth recovering
next to her. “He is likely to faint at the most inopportune of times,
particularly if he feels he is under scrutiny. It has only been in the last few
days, since he has had time to...”
She smiled
at him and smoothed a wrinkle on the skirt of his gown and continued,
“...adjust
to his new clothing, not to mention reconcile himself with our new relationship.”
“I suppose
he has reason.” Mrs. Carmine suggested “After all if he was exposed as a male
dressed as a girl I expect there would be serious consequences.”
“Indeed.”
Mrs. Armstrong said, her eyes examining him closely. “I understand the
authorities take a dim view of such deviant behaviour.”
“And this
is what we want to avoid at all costs.” Mrs Dalloway said, turning her
attention to him and pressing his hand gently. “After all I have presented you
as my niece and if you were to be unveiled as a male it would be most
embarrassing for me. Isn’t that so Georgina?”
The words
‘deviant behaviour’, ‘authorities’ serious consequences’ rang in his ears like
a cathedral bell, if he was revealed to be a male he dreaded to think what
would happen, he gripped his skirts in horror, an action that did not go
unnoticed by his companions. He still had not recovered from his true sex being
revealed to these women and Mrs. Dalloway’s sudden announcement of the
requirement to attend a public engagement had further added to his anxiety, he once more felt little lightheaded. He was acutely aware that
the only thing keeping him upright and preventing him from collapsing into
another faint was the long rigid boning of his corset. The sight of Mrs. Dalloway once more producing the smelling salts was enough to ensure he rallied
quickly.
“Yes Aunt.”
he answered softly.
“We cannot have that, Lavinia. ” Mrs. Carmine
declared in a determined tone, as she rose from her chair and arranging her
voluminous skirts to her satisfaction moved to the sofa and lowered herself gracefully
next to him, she took his other hand and stroked it. Fixing him with her large
brown eyes, she continued “A special girl like you needs all the support you
can get to ensure the Duchess or the other ladies attending suspect nothing. We
shall accompany you to the lecture and ensure your secret is safe.”
The young
man winced at the words ‘special girl’, Mrs. Carmine noticed and smiled as if
daring him to contradict her but surrounded by these women and dressed as he
was, he was in no position to do so.
“What a
wonderful idea.” Lady Cockshott chirped “A phalanx of petticoats to protect a
defenceless male. I suppose it has a
certain irony to it.”
Since his
confinement in such humiliating feminine attire he was constantly searching for
ways to escape Mrs Dalloway’s clutches but the dangers of being uncovered as a
male were the invisible chains keeping him tethered to her. Now that he was
finally achieving his goal, the prospect of being thrust into the open
masquerading as a female filled him with dread and it clearly showed on his
face.
”Don’t you worry Georgina.” Mrs. Armstrong
consoled him “We will ensure you come to no harm. Nestled securely between our
skirts you will be quite safe.”
“That is
most kind of you, ladies.” Mrs Dalloway said “I’m sure Georgina is most
grateful.”
His mouth
opened but the only sound that was heard was a low whine.
“It’s
settled then, we can take my carriage.” Lady Cockshott announced to the company,
after a discreet nod to Mrs Dalloway both women rose effortlessly from their
seats. Still coming to terms with what was happening the young man remained
seated hoping this was perhaps a charade or another of Mrs Dalloway’s tests but
the excited looks on their faces disabused him of that notion. As the ladies
made their way to the large mirror over the mantelpiece to check their
appearances, a housemaid entered and whispered something to her mistress.
“I need to
attend to some domestic matter, ladies.” she informed her guests “I will only
be a few moments.”
“I wonder how
long Lavinia intends keeping Georgina dressed as a girl.” Mrs Armstrong asked
her companions as the door closed behind her.
The mention
of his feminised name roused the young man from his anxious thoughts and his
attention was immediately focused on the women’s conversation.
“I’m really
not sure, Rebecca.” Lady Cockshott answered, and fixing a stray strand of hair
behind her ear, she could see his attentive face in the mirror. “Knowing
Lavinia it will depend on her humour. If the boy convinces the Duchess that he
is her niece then I expect she will be only too delighted to procure male
clothing for him. She won’t want to risk someone discovering his true sex.”
“And if he
does not manage to persuade the Duchess?” Mrs. Carmine enquired, as she lightly dabbed some perfume on her
neck.
“That would
be very embarrassing for Lavinia.” Lady Cockshott replied “And as a result, I
don’t think it would go very well for the unfortunate young lad. As we said the
authorities take a very serious view of deviant behaviour.”
The young
man felt a knot tighten in his stomach and his complexion paled. The ladies
turned away from the mirror and approached him, the sound of petticoats and
substantial skirts filling the room with a familiar rustling sound. It was
impossible to miss the look of fear on his face.
“But don’t
you worry, dear boy.” Mrs. Armstrong said “You may be a little gauche in some
ways but most girls your age are not properly finished just yet. Just remember
all that your aunt has taught you and I’m sure you will be taken for the girl
that the Duchess thinks you are.”
“We will
ensure any awkward questions or situations are taken care of.” Lady Cockshott
added with a reassuring smile as she gestured him to rise.
“Just
remember, you look like a girl and you walk like a girl.” Mrs. Carmine said applying
pink lip balm to his lips “Once you think of yourself as a girl, as Mrs. Dalloway’s niece you should have nothing to worry about. Do you understand?”
He nodded,
still clearly extremely anxious.
“Now if
someone asks you who you are, what do you say?” Lady Cockshott asked him.
He
hesitated, uttering these words out loud would remove him even further from his
fading masculinity.
“Say it...girl.”
Lady Cockshott snapped.
“My
name...my...name...”he mumbled his “is Georgina...I am Mrs Dalloway’s... niece.”
“And
again.” Mrs Armstrong said “But clearer and louder, and curtsy when you answer.
You need to show you have been well trained in the social graces.”
He repeated
the mortifying admission and was forced to continue until the ladies were finally
satisfied he sounded genuine before he was allowed to rest for a few moments.
After the
women had finished applying the final touches to their appearances, Mrs. Carmine’s instructed him to rise. He lifted himself from the sofa and
instinctively adjusted skirt of his gown to ensure it fell correctly then
smoothed the soft material to remove any wrinkles.
The women
exchanged glances, Lady Cockshott was the first to speak.
“I just
wish my daughter was as meticulous with her comportment.”
“He is
certainly much more feminine than some of the girls I have encountered lately.”
Mrs. Armstrong said.
The door opened
and Mrs. Dalloway entered and glided across the room to where he stood among
the women. She removed a stray hair from
his shoulder and made a slight adjustment to his bustle.
“I do hope
he remembers all that I have taught him.” she said as she completed her
inspection.
Her
companions laughed lightly and Lady Cockshott turned to the feminised youth and
asked in n exaggerated voice as if she was meeting him for the first time,
“And who
are you my dear?”
“I am
Georgina, Mrs. Dalloway’s niece.” he said clearly and confidently before
dropping into a graceful curtsy.
“I think
neither of you have anything to be concerned about.” Mrs. Armstrong laughed and
slipped her arm inside his.
A broad and
satisfied smile appeared on Mrs. Dalloway’s face.
“I think
it’s time to make your society debut, dear boy.” Mrs. Carmine said, threading
her arm underneath his other arm. “We don’t want to keep the Duchess waiting.”
