Unintended Consequences -New Victorian Story plus Illustration

 

Below is a new story and set in the Victorian era. The illustration is in the body of the text.

Unusually for me, when I began this I had the ending in mind so I thought it would be reasonably short and easily completed, but…  the best laid plans of mice and men, etc etc., naturally it didn’t work out that way. If I was to complete it as single piece it would take another few weeks if not longer and that would have been far too long between posts so I felt it better to split it into two parts.

At the moment I’m not sure whether I’ll complete this story first or the next (and hopefully final) chapter of LLD. Time as always is an issue and my head needs to be in the right place. Disjointed and not the ideal way to post stories I know, but as always I’m hoping readers will overlook this and bear with me.

Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

Take care and stay safe.

Carrie

 

Unintended Consequences.

By

CarrieP

 

Part 1

 London circa 1890

R

eturning to London from his tour of Europe’s major cities was deeply irritating for Claude Fingal- Burke. He had been press ganged into accompanying his overbearing mother, Lady Constance,  on this boring journey with her equally tiresome squadron of other society matrons, first  to take the waters in Baden Baden  and then on to Bayreuth to sit through days of that dreadful Herr Wager’s interminable operas. However he had managed to hatch a cunning escape plan that would see him vanish in the night and make his way to the more entertaining fleshpots of Paris. To her great displeasure Lady Constance only became aware of her only son’s absence in a letter he had left the morning after he had taken an overnight train which ensured he was well beyond her reach by the time she rose. He knew she would be unable to follow him as she and her companions were invited as special guests of the maestro himself.  Naturally the only reason he had left his intended address at the Paris Ritz was for her to forward sufficient funds to finance his licentious escapades. However he never fully considered his plan as within a day of his arrival he had been summoned by telegram to London by his mother’s elder sister, his aunt, Lady Emily. And as Aunt Emily as the family’s matriarch controlled the purse strings he had little option.  The following morning a sullen and extremely disappointed young man boarded the ship at the northern French port of Calais bound for Dover and then on by train to London.

 As the train made its way through the green fields towards the city he had plenty of time to think about the error he had made and resolved not to repeat it the next time he would manage to slip the bonds of his mother and her entourage’s suffocating company. He really should not have been surprised when he read the telegram from his aunt insisting on his return, after all  this was not the first time he had absconded from his mother’s company to follow his reprobate male desires. In retrospect he should have been a little more clever and allowed longer periods between his treks to the continent’s liveliest and welcoming cities, it would not have caused as much suspicion among his older female relatives. His latest disappearance had apparently created an even bigger furore and it was quite obvious from the tone of the telegram Aunt Emily was not amused by his latest antics.  As a male he had more latitude than his female cousins but it seems he had reached the limit of his mother’s and Aunt Emily’s patience. However he was quietly confident that he could mollify her by concocting a story about a friend in need of his help or perhaps a tale about visiting some charitable foundation for injured racehorses. His aunt, being a patron of a similar foundation in Ireland would no doubt understand this, he had concocted similar stories on many occasions without his lies being discovered. Of course he would have to show contrition and utter the obligatory mea culpas but he was confident he would leave her house secure in the knowledge that the necessary finances would be transferred and perhaps after a day or two’s stay with her to worm his way back into her good books and restore the family’s equilibrium he would return to Paris and recommence his activities. As usual after devising such a masterful plan he congratulated himself on his remarkable ingenuity.

 Now as the cab pulled up to the grand town house in  Mayfair’s most fashionable street he had polished and honed his story and his self-assurance grew that, as on several occasions in the past,he once again could charm his aunt. He knocked loudly on the door with his silver topped cane and stood back smiling as he considered just how clever he was.  The door was opened as usual by Jane, the head housemaid. Most unusually for such a grand London house, his aunt like his other aunts and mother, did not employ a butler or indeed any male domestic staff. He always thought this very strange but passed it off as yet another family quirk. Houses inhabited exclusively by women, with their ceaseless feminine chatter and suffocating attention on him was no life for a young man about to enter university. Everywhere he turned he was in danger of being engaged in some tedious feminine conversation about the latest Paris fashions, perhaps asked his opinion about a certain hairstyle or which gown was more suitable to wear to certain parties. It was a dreadful existence.

 “Good morning Master Claude.” she said and smiled as she bobbed a curtsy. “The mistress is expecting you, she’s in the blue drawing room.”

A reasonably attractive girl her, if a little well built and on the tall side, her figure no doubt enhanced by her corset which was clearly defined under her uniform ensuring her breasts were given the prominence they deserved.  He had managed to brush against and even tried to feel them on a few occasions when they were alone and although she struggled and objected he somehow felt she may have enjoyed the experience nevertheless he stopped the practice when she threatened to inform his aunt.  Although Claude doubted very much that his aunt would believe her after all the girl was only a servant. However, Aunt Emily, unusually for the mistress of such a grand London house, seemed to have a close almost intimate relationship with all her domestic staff and as such he did not wish to arouse any unnecessary suspicion.

“Ah there you are Claude.” his aunt said her eyes drawn away from the letter she was reading and now cast them rather coolly on him. “Unfortunately we do not have time for tea as I have a pressing appointment with the family’s financial advisers. You will accompany me and explain  why exactly you abandoned your mother in Baden Baden.”

Rising with a well practiced grace from her seat, she adjusted her dress to her satisfaction before glancing in the mirror and after ensuring every hair was in place she sailed effortlessly across the drawing room floor. The unmistakable rustle of silk and taffeta filled the room and coming to a halt before him she proffered her cheek. An observer would usually interpret such a gesture as one of familial affection however Aunt Emily considered it more an invitation to display the required deference.   

Of course Aunt Emily.” he said as she approached and although he disliked the gesture, thinking it too effeminate,  he nevertheless  steeled himself and kissed her on both cheeks. In his experience to do otherwise would not have been wise.

The last thing the young man wanted to attend was a conference with boring bankers and tedious lawyers, however refusing Aunt Emily would be tantamount to committing financial suicide. He concluded that it would be in his long term interest to accede to her request, besides once he had appeased her obvious irritation with his concocted tale about injured racehorses he would be in an ideal position to ask for an advance on his inheritance. Settling on this as his plan he summoned up one of his warmest smiles and extended his arm.

“You always had such a charming smile.” she said in a more conciliatory tone , placing her arm on his and glided towards the door and as Jane appeared and removed a parasol from the umbrella stand she added “All my friends thought you so precious as a child.”

When made in private such comments were extremely annoying to him as they raised deeply embarrassing events from his past, so embarrassing that he had tried and failed to gently admonish her on several occasions. But even more distressing was when similar remarks were made in front of the servants. And with good reason, from the corner of his eye he could see Jane smirking, it was most disagreeable but considering his aunt’s poor view of his recent behaviour he felt he could not afford to show his displeasure. Hoping she would not continue in this vein before they reached the front door, he held his tongue and continued to smile through gritted teeth. Unfortunately this was not to be the case as his aunt, like most fashionable ladies, could not resist the temptation to pass by another mirror without gazing into it to insure every hair had remained  in place and every fibre of her costume had not been somehow disarranged from her last appearance in front of the drawing room’s mirror. He stifled the urge to make a sarcastic remark, now was not the time to risk his advance.

“Do you like this dress?” she asked as she straightened her heavy silk skirt eliciting another rustle from her taffeta and satin petticoats. It was a dark wine-coloured velvet gown with a long -waisted bodice laced down front, a high collar enhanced her slim neck, the red satin facing skirt had a large bustle and pleats at the side, both heavily decorated with red glass beads and bugles.

In the mirror he could clearly see the reaction of his aunt’s servant girl. Her face wore a look of open ridicule making no pretence whatsoever at disguising her amusement.  Irritated at her impudence he wanted to rebuke her but his aunt seemingly oblivious to the maid’s impertinence continued to preen herself in front of the mirror. He knew his aunt would soon demand an answer and the last thing he wanted was an admonishment from her in front of a housemaid.

“Yes…yes Aunt…very nice.” he replied, swallowing his pride trying his best to ignore the girl’s sneer.

“I’m not too pale for the colour?” she continued as she turned to view herself at another angle.

“No…no, not at all, it suits you perfectly Aunt Emily.” he said trying to contain his impatience and wishing they could leave before his aunt embarrassed him even further and although not looking at the servant girl was in no doubt she was deriving great amusement from his aunt’s  ghastly questions.

“There is a slight chill in the air, do you think four petticoats are enough, darling.” she extended the awkward conversation however he noted that her toe was most cordial and she did use the word ‘darling’ which he took to mean his innate charm was working its magic once again.

The bigger prize loomed large in his mind and this was no time to let it slip despite the shameful hoops he would have to jump through. A quick and discreet glance at Jane confirmed his worst suspicions. Her eyes met his , the mockery quite clearly on display and he thought she was struggling to suppress outright laughter. He steeled himself to answer.

“Emm…ah… yes… Aunt…yes…”he stammered as another housemaid appeared from the servants stairway “Perhaps we should leave.”

“Yes my dear, in a moment.” she said rearranging a hairpin that she seemed to thing had come slightly adrift. “Louise, my new lady’s maid suggested I wear four and advised that the latest Paris fashion requires an extra taffeta one to give extra volume .  It’s a new shade of pale pink.”

No. he prayed in  silence. Please Aunt…don’t…

His silent supplication fell on deaf ears as his aunt lifted her skirts to display an array of lawn, silk, satin and taffeta in similar hues of pink.

“I like the way the hem is gathered on the satin one, don’t you?” she enquired, apparently unaware of the deep embarrassment such a question would cause a red-blooded young buck. “Actually now that I look at it there maybe something caught in the stitching. My maid should have spotted that, be a darling boy and remove it.”

Under normal circumstances Claude would have refused point blank and in the process make some sarcastic remark about such a task being beneath a male of his standing. However his razor sharp intellect immediately concluded that this was a test of his character and his usual reaction could have a very negative effect on his immediate financial prospects. He decided his aunt’s good mood and the benefit he would derive from it would not be worth the risk a refusal would bring.

Another furtive glace in the mirror confirmed his worst fears. Jane immediately recognised and was delighting in his discomfort and with her smile of derision now lighting up her face decided to increase humiliation.

“Oh look I can see it.” she offered helpfully “Just above the mistress’s boot. I’m afraid you will have to get on your knees, Master Claude.”

“I…ahh…emm…”he hesitated as the girl continued to point at his aunt’s raised skirts exposing her highly polished three inch heeled boot.

“Claude!” his aunt called to him with more than a hint of impatience in her voice yet she seemed to ignore the obvious delight on her servant’s face at the young man’s discomfiture.

 Swallowing a very large piece of male pride he felt the sooner he completed his shameful chore the better and lowered himself onto his knees  to locate the offending article. Finding the piece of coloured lint he quickly discarded it and began to rise.

“Is everything all right Madam.” another female voice enquired but on his knees he could not make out its owner and was just about to raise himself when his aunt issued new instructions.

“Stay where you are Claude.” his aunt instructed before addressing the new arrival ”No Louise, it appears there was some lint on my petticoat.”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry Madam. I thought I had checked all of them before I dressed you.”

From his kneeling position he deduced that this was his aunt lady’s maid and from the tone of her voice was not pleased.

“Well obviously not. My nephew is now kindly doing what you should have done.” she said testily before returning her attention to Claude,

“Now that you are there, dear boy, you may as well check my other petticoats. I’m sure you will be a little more conscientious than my lady’s maid.”

Claude cringed at the words yet from his kneeling position was, in some perverse way, relieved that the women that stood above him could not witness the deepening blush now developing in his cheeks. He was even more relieved when his aunt addressed her maid, diverting the women’s focus away from him.

” You have become a little lax in your duties lately, my girl. This is not the first time this has happened.” she admonished her  maid“ I considered you were making progress and thought  I had you reasonably well trained but it appears  I may have been wrong , I’m afraid you made need some correction to ensure your concentration is completely focused on your mistress’s needs and not your own.”

With his aunt fixating on berating her maid, Claude felt his cheeks burning with shame and his body arranged in the most undignified position for a male, he did not wish to draw unwanted attention to himself. He continued silently with his degrading task, lifting and separating the various hems of the petticoats, locating and removing a stray thread from the taffeta petticoat and some stray fluff from the satin one.

“Yes Madam.” Louise answered with a curtsy and with eyes downcast murmured softly “I understand.”

“You can see how diligent my darling nephew is.”Aunt Emily continued and although he was not in a position to observe it, could nevertheless feel three pairs of female eyes on him.

“Yes Madam.” he heard a timid voice say.

“You could learn a thing or two from him about how to perform your duties.” his aunt lectured her maid.

“Yes Madam.” came the reply, his cheeks grew warmer and he thought he heard the faintest snigger from another female voice.

“Please check the back of my skirts Claude.” his aunt instructed him, the irritation in her voice quite evident. “This girl was obviously not mindful of her obligations as a lady’s maid when dressing me.”

On a number of occasions he had been on the receiving end of her reprimands and almost felt sorry for the girl and knowing that once his aunt became irritated it would be difficult to placate her. He also knew that a refusal or even hesitation on his part would surely transfer her anger from the maid to him, this would not auger well for his impending visit to his aunt’s bankers or indeed for a positive outcome for his financial future

He immediately complied and while she continued to berate her lady’s maid he shuffled on his knees to the back of her skirts.

“Let me help you Master Claude.” Jane offered with undisguised glee as she lifted her mistress’s skirts and gestured for him to continue his demeaning chore as she supervised to the background sound of his aunt’s ongoing upbraiding of her maid.

“You will leave the paddle on my bed and I will deal with you on my return.” her mistress concluded her scolding, issuing further instructions before the girl was allowed to leave.

Again he felt a degree of sympathy for her maid as he knew from experience what his aunt’s instruction to leave the paddle on the bed meant. As she would go about her duties the paddle would constantly remind her of what lay in store on her mistress’s return.

“There are no further stray pieces of thread or other material.” he said lifting himself from his kneeling position, his shame prevented him adding the words ’on your petticoats’.

Jane, however, had no such qualms.

“Master Claude was most assiduous in his task, Madam.” she gushed in faux admiration, only too eager to inform her mistress while heaping yet more ignominy on the young man who seemed to have visibly shed several  degrees of masculine confidence.

“Such a nice compliment.” his aunt remarked and as Claude fought against his natural reaction to rebuke the girl, his aunt continued “Where are your manners Claude?”

Mindful of his long term goal he convinced himself that now was not the time to vent his feelings and once more swallowed his pride and mumbled a grudging and dishonest ‘thank you’.

“Please ensure my skirts are arranged correctly at the rear, Claude?” Aunt Emily continued his torture. “I do not wish to be embarrassed by a display of petticoats.”

Silently, and under Jane’s continuing sneer, he complied with his aunt’s instruction and aligned the heavy satin skirt so it fell correctly from her bustle.

Completing his latest demeaning assignment he stood back allowing his aunt to view the results for herself in the full length mirror.

“Excellent!” she announced  as her hands moved over her skirts fluffing them out gently yet never taking her eyes off her nephew“ I’m so glad you have not forgotten how  to arrange a lady’s dress.”

As Jane looked quizzically at her mistress, Claude’s eyes fell to the floor.

“Master Claude was most helpful to me several years ago when my previous lady’s maid was indisposed for several weeks.” his aunt explained to her housemaid who looked at Claude before returning her attention to her mistress. 

Claude could feel the nascent beginnings of a temperature rise in his cheeks and wanted to interrupt his aunt but although he had formed the words in his brain his mouth could not deliver them.

 “Oh yes, he was quite invaluable.” Aunt Emily, to Claude’s mounting consternation, persisted in her account of this brief but shameful period in his life “Well at least once I had trained him properly in some of the more elementary duties of a lady’s maid. How to arrange my gowns in the correct order in my dressing room, ensuring my intimate linen was pressed and scented,  my petticoats were separated by material and colour, corsets folded properly with the laces adjusted correctly and so on. “

“Master Claude really is a most obliging young gentleman, Madam.” Jane said earnestly as she busied herself brushing some invisible detritus from her mistress’s shoulders but Claude could easily detect more than a hint of derision in her voice. It was obvious his aunt did not share his view and smiled at her attentive servant.

“Well not exactly at first Jane.” His aunt answered, still inspecting herself in the mirror and laughed lightly as she continued  “At the beginning he was a little rough at brushing my hair, which I suppose was only to be expected for a male unused to the task of a lady’s maid, however with the proper guidance he quickly became proficient and to this day I have never had a maid brush it like he did. Of course it took a little longer to teach him how to arrange some basic styles for a  lady’s hair however over several weeks he became reasonably competent in braiding and became quite adept at arranging elaborate chignons.”

Claude’s cheeks flushed crimson once more and felt the urge to scream in protest at his aunt’s dreadful and unfair portrayal of him as some sort of male lady’s maid. As he was about to launch into his diatribe Aunt Emily suddenly decided she was presentable to appear in public.

“Yes quite satisfactory.” she said turning away from the mirror “It’s time we were on our way.  Come along Claude stop dithering and do take that strange look off your face, it makes you look like a slightly distracted sheep. And straighten up for heaven’s sake I do not like you slouching.”

Her undeserved criticism hit home and his planned tirade along with another layer of his self –esteem suddenly melted away. Deflated, he followed her along the hallway and reaching the door Jane hurried to open it. The mid-morning sun was peaking over the roof tops and Claude felt a warm breeze drift into the doorway, soon he would be free of Jane and her smirking face and after he had concluded his business with his aunt he would return to Paris and not see her again.

“Your parasol, Madam.” Jane said, offering a salmon pink parasol to her mistress.

“Master Claude will take it.” she responded gesturing to the young man. “A gentleman’s place to assist a lady, is that not so Claude?”

Wordlessly he took the object from the maid and tried to put a brave face on yet another degrading activity he had to undertake.

“Of course, Aunt.” he lied and followed her out the door but not before glaring at the impertinent housemaid who in turn taunted him with a blatantly broad sneer as she closed the heavy door behind him.

Now finding himself in the street holding a frilled parasol Aunt Emily informed him they would take some exercise by walking through the park and instructed him to tell the carriage driver to meet them at the other side of the park where they would continue their journey.

Entering the park Claude noticed of all the ladies they encountered he was the only male holding a parasol for their companion and  to his great embarrassment drew amused stares from the well dressed girls of his own age accompanying middle aged matrons  who were, like his aunt, rigorously corseted and obviously amply petticoated. He took these girls to be their companions, daughters or nieces but as to their looks, pretty or not, he could not tell as his eyes were downcast from the shame he felt performing such an emasculating task. His spirits rose somewhat as they neared the park’s exit and he thanked his lucky stars he had not encountered any acquaintances. However within feet of the exit they were stopped by a forceful female voice.

“Emily darling.” the voice greeted his aunt and the obligatory kisses were delivered to each cheek. “I missed you at the opera last week.”

“Yes Cecily, a mild headache nothing serious.” his aunt replied as the woman raised her lorgnette and inspected the parasol carrying youth.

“Such a sweet young man.” the woman gushed “and what long eyelashes to accompany those expressive eyes. And such luxuriant hair, my daughters would be so envious.”

Claude somehow found the strength to stop himself from wincing at what she no doubt considered a compliment about his features. After all it was not his fault that he was cursed with what could be considered less than manly looks.

“My dear sister Beatrice’s son, Claude,” Aunt Emily introduced him to Mrs Cecily Domhurst “And don’t let those delicate facial qualities fool you Cecily. He may look pretty but he has all the ghastly characteristics of the dissolute and morally ill disciplined male.”

“Surely not!” the other woman said incredulously and ran her fingers down his cheek “Such an innocent face. But I suppose like most males when they get to a certain age they feel they are beyond the exemplary feminine modesty and restraint that guided them into adulthood.”

“Exactly, Cecily.” Aunt Emily exclaimed “Claude was such a good boy before he was sent away to boarding school and on returning from his first year his mother and my sisters could see that the damage had been done.”

Breaking off from her less than flattering account of him she added curtly,

“Claude, have you forgotten your manners?”

His aunts had insisted on him complimenting their friends on their gowns, they felt it showed graciousness that ladies appreciated and would ensure a lady’s first impression of him was a good one.  Naturally any young man worth his salt in masculinity would abhor such pandering but he had to admit girls and women did like it and of course doing so would increase his cachet with his aunt. He also hoped that once this was over they could continue on their way. His eyes automatically inspected Mrs Domhurst’s dress and from the deep recesses of his brain his training at the hands of his aunts sprang forward as he subconsciously took in the detail. This tall and amply proportioned matron wore a two piece striped silk taffeta stayed polonaise-style bodice with a bunted bustle, the skirt had a back opening and matching lavender trim with a two tier ruffled hem. He felt the style was a tad too young for her but politeness would not allow such a crass comment.

“So pleased to meet you. What a lovely dress.” he somehow managed to say with a smile and noticing his aunt’s approving look decided to gild the lily “The polonaise bodice is very fashionable I believe.”

 “Why thank you my dear,” Mrs Domhurst returned  his smile “Not every young man would be so attentive. I dare say you were lucky to have been raised under the doting eyes of your aunt and her sisters. It  is so pleasant, despite your aunt’s misgivings, to encounter such a thoughtful and well adjusted male.”

Claude, for some reason he could not immediately explain, felt something inside that told him the discussion would quickly take a turn for the worse.

“I suppose you had him in skirts in his younger days, Emily?” Mrs Domhurst enquired.

Claude flinched at the words and could feel a knot tighten in his stomach, he quickly looked around to see if anyone was within earshot which much to his relief there was not.

“Naturally.” his aunt replied as she smiled benevolently at him at the memories of times past as she continued in a wistful voice “and a better behaved, mannerly boy you would not ask to meet.”

The knot continued to tighten in Claude’s stomach and he withdrew as far as he could in a vain attempt to make himself blend in with the surrounding shrubbery.

“I find immersion in exclusively feminine company has a wonderfully beneficial effect on the developing male brain.” Mrs Domhurst declared to the nodding agreement of his aunt.

“My sentiments exactly.” Aunt Emily concurred “Left to their own devices the male invariably evolves into a ghastly creature bent on acquiring all of life’s vices and none of its virtues. It is our responsibility to save them from themselves, to reinstate a moderating feminine influence over their dreadful impulses.”

As the women warmed to their theme, Claude did consider briefly slipping away but quickly dismissed the idea as against his financial best interests, heaven knew what his aunt would do if he followed this course. At this meeting of kindred spirits he knew better than to voice a contrarian view, he held his tongue yet again and remained a reluctant spectator.

“Claude, do stop slouching, stand straight for goodness sake.” his aunt barked the familiar order at him bringing him quickly back to reality.

“I notice young males, unlike girls of a similar age, have this dreadful tendency to slump their shoulders.  Most unbecoming in a young person of high social rank.” Mrs Domhurst said in a disappointed tone, her eyes falling on Claude who immediately adjusted his bearing and continuing to hold him in her gaze, she continued, “As we ladies know only too well a good corset would undoubtedly correct the boy’s  posture. In my experience this will also ensure a very significant tempering of the male tendency of disobedience to female relatives in a position of authority.”

“It really is for their own good.” his aunt opined as she brushed his sleeve to remove a strand of hair before  adjusting his necktie as if he was a schoolboy “They are like children that never grew up properly, they constantly require feminine guidance if they are not to stray from the straight and narrow. Girls are far easier to handle, don’t you think Cecily?”

“Oh of course, Emily.” Mrs Domhurst agreed “As we also know it is difficult to indulge in mischief or unsavoury behaviour while strictly corseted, dressed in layers of petticoats and a pretty gown. Not to mention three or four inch heeled boots.”

Claude had heard similar discussions on many occasions when his mother, aunts and their friends congregated for afternoon tea and he was forced to endure their nostalgic reminiscences which invariably, and to his great embarrassment, involved memories of his own childhood at the hands of these very women. It was a time he tried his best to forget although at these ghastly events it was a very difficult task and he would have nightmares for days afterwards.  Mrs Domhurst seemed determined to pursue this particular theme and  added in a plaintive tone,

“Such a pity they cannot be put back into skirts, their attitude would improve immensely and they would be all  the better for it. I’d wager he was perfectly behaved when under female authority and in skirts.”

Claude winced as if he had been stabbed by a hot blade and once more glanced around to ensure there was no one in the immediate vicinity to hear these dreadful revelations.

“Of course he was, and looked perfectly adorable in his dresses.”Aunt Emily nodded her agreement.”It broke our hearts when he was sent away to school. I still have kept those dresses as mementos.”

Thankfully and much to his great relief the topic moved to other matters and Claude was able to breathe easily once more. It was not long before Aunt Emily heard the park’s clock chime the hour and brought the conversation to an end  but not before the usual invitation to tea and the ghastly exchange of kisses which he was once more forced to participate in. As she embraced him, her heavy, voluminous skirts seemed to envelop him and her heady yet not unpleasant perfume wound its way through his nostrils into his brain. He felt almost helpless as her arms held him so close to her breasts he could feel the ridges of her corset press into him.

“Oh I’d imagine he looked quite delightful in a satin pink gown.” Mrs Domhurst said with a smile that unsettled the young man as she slowing and reluctantly released him from her grip “As I said such a pity he…”

“Is that the time Aunt Emily?” he exclaimed looking in the clock’s direction and putting as much distance from the dreadful woman as he could without causing obvious offence but Mrs Domhurst continued to maintain her pleasant yet worrying smile.

“You could always leave him with me Emily.” Mrs Domhurst addressed his aunt but never taking her eyes from the young man. “Despite your assessment, I find him enchanting not to mention very pretty. I’m sure we would get along wonderfully.”

“Well Claude would you like that?” Aunt Emily asked her nephew who despite his best efforts to conceal it was obviously deeply unnerved at the suggestion, gripping the hem of his jacket to steady his shaking hands he retreated behind his aunt like a frightened five year old.

A wordless low whine left his mouth and both women smiled.

“Perhaps not yet.” Mrs Domhurst, joined by his aunt, laughed lightly at his obvious plight but reaching out and stroking his cheek added softly “But soon, dear boy, soon.”

As she left Claude struggled to regain his equilibrium and it was only after they both were in the carriage and had resumed their journey he began to relax.

“Such a dear friend.” Aunt Emily said as the carriage made its way through the tree laden avenue leading from the park “You obviously made a wonderful impression, Cecily is utterly taken with you.”

Claude could only smile weakly and mumble something bland.

“We must have her to afternoon tea very soon.” she continued.

“That would be nice. “ he felt pressurised to lie his agreement as to do otherwise would no doubt draw his aunt’s ire.

Thankfully the conversation turned to other matters as the carriage wound its way to the outer fringes of the city and eventually slowing as it reached the high gates of what appeared to be a walled estate. As the carriage passed through Claude tried to make out the name of the property but could only discern two words.

“Is this our destination Aunt Emily?” he asked as the horses made their way up through the expansive grounds.

“Yes, my boy it is.” she replied.

“St Jude’s?” he said, repeating the name on the gates and noticing a brace of Dobermans watching the carriage’s progress he added almost absentmindedly “An unusual name for a financial institution?”

“Yes darling, I suppose it is.” Aunt Emily answered.