Debut- A short Victorian story with image

 

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

 

 

 

M

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.”