Unintended Consequences pt 2 including illustraation

 

I had hoped to have the second and final part of Unintended Consequences finalised a few weeks ago- I’m conscious it has been way over the six week deadline I try to keep to- but events as always shape everything. Like most of you I’m struggling to keep all of life’s balls in the air and I’ve allowed a few to fall in the last month or two- and this is one of them.

I am very close to completing it (there are two pages I haven’t included here, so the next chapter will probably not be as long) but as I’ve said that will take another two maybe three weeks so what I decided for good or ill is to split it at a point that hopefully is not too abrupt and doesn’t spoil the story too much. It’s not ideal but otherwise it will be another few weeks before I can post which would be far too late. Hopefully you will understand.

The image is in the body of the text.

Thank you to all kind enough to post a comment, I really appreciate it as it’s the only way I can gauge if readers like it or not.

Take care

Carrie

Ps I’ll change the image at the top in the next few days.  

Unintended Consequences

By

CarrieP

Part 2

 The grinding sound of steel rimmed wheels on gravel seeped into the carriage as it passed through the high open gates and began its journey through the expansive rolling parkland populated by mature oaks, ashes and elms. Aunt Emily had remained unusually quiet throughout the journey from the park which slightly puzzled Claude. He had formed the opinion that for some unfathomable reason she was still annoyed with him over his abandonment of his mother and her friends in a staid and extremely dull spa town in Germany. Of course he had done this to avail of the more interesting night life of Paris and given his aunt’s suffocating and overbearing manner he concluded he was correct and had only accompanied her out of pure self-interest.  However he felt her demeanour did not auger well for his hopes to secure a substantial advance on his inheritance when they met with the family’s bankers which she had told him was the purpose of their journey. In the silence he considered that if anyone should feel aggrieved it was him after all was he not humiliated by having to kneel at her feet and engage in a task that her lady’s maid should have done. But wisely he recognised that raising this issue would not further his cause and what was required was a clever way to ingratiate himself once more into her favour. He had a plan for such an eventuality which would suggest some fabrication about his involvement in an organisation for injured racehorses. Pure lies of course, but women were such innocents she would no doubt believe every word from his mouth. Now gazing out the carriage’s window his eyes were drawn to the sight of several horse riders in the middle distance and he saw his opportunity. He had little doubt that she would be most interested in his tall tale as she was patron of a similar organisation in Ireland.

“Most peculiar.” he said in a quizzical voice, intended to lure her into conversation.

Aunt Emily remained silent, busying herself rearranging her heavy Duchess satin skirts to her satisfaction. In the absence of any remark from her he expanded on the nature of his curiosity.

“Several horsemen over there, Aunt Emily” he said pointing to an area beyond a copse of aspen and beech trees where the outline of the riders and horses could be seen. As no reaction was forthcoming he pressed on, “And going at a decent gallop.”

“Oh, how nice.” his aunt answered disinterestedly as she rummaged in her purse for something or other.

Claude was frustrated by her lack of engagement as there would not be much time to impress her with his convoluted deception before they finally reached their destination. A sudden urgency gripped him and he began to recount his well rehearsed fiction.

 “Yes Claude,” Aunt Emily remarked a little wearily “I think that may be the third time you have told me that ridiculous story.”

“But…I…”he was taken aback at her directness and suddenly realising his master plan had now failed he frantically began searching for another.

“But you are right, those girls are going at a decent gallop.” she said looking out the window at the approaching riders.

“Girls?” he said looking at his aunt with a puzzled expression and unaware that the riders were now much closer to the carriage “No, I don’t imagine they are female, they are not riding side-saddle.”

“Perhaps.” his aunt replied gesturing to the window “but unless my eyes deceive me the riders are indeed girls.”

As the approach to the large house narrowed the riders and carriage were now mere yards apart and Claude could see his aunt was correct the riders were female and to his amazement apart from one who was adopting the more conventional feminine side-saddle all the others were straddling their mounts. 

“Most unladylike.” he mutter wincing at the inusual sight as the carriage came to a halt. “

 “The modern world, dear boy.”Aunt Emily answered.

“And they seem to be wearing…” he gasped incredulously “ breeches” before turning back to his aunt. “This is a most unusual location for a financial institution. Are you sure this is the right place aunt, perhaps the driver took a wrong turn.”

“Yes Claude, we are in the right place but you are correct. This is not a financial institution. That will have to wait for the time being.” his aunt replied without further explanation “I have business to conduct here before I continue to see my bankers. Now please open the door like a good boy.”

With his eyes trained on the female horse riders and still recovering from the shock of their lack of female attire he silently complied and stepping out he then assisted his aunt to alight from the carriage. As she adjusted her costume to her satisfaction he noticed the horsewomen gazing down on him with an expression he found hard to define. There was a self-assuredness, almost disdain in their faces but it seemed tinged with also a look he considered suppressed excitement. Although repelled by their manly garb he was nevertheless pleased he had generated such interest.

Claude briefly thought of questioning his aunt and despite the jarring impression their clothing had made on him. However the sight of these girls was a welcome diversion and felt he may have an opportunity to use his unmatched charm to flatter one perhaps even two or three and subsequently worm his way under their skirts. He quickly estimated an hour with them would be sufficient to have them eating out of his hand.

“Emily, so nice to see you.” a woman’s voice broke into his thoughts and he turned to see a woman dressed in a green brocade satin woven gown call to his aunt. She lifted her skirts revealing several layers of white and pale blue petticoats as she made her decent of the granite steps to where they stood. The open robe style trained overskirt gave her an air of authority and the curve of her bodice betrayed her tightly corseted torso.

Now that’s what those girls should look like, they would be far prettier, more feminine. he thought to himself and considered that although some influential society ladies  had begun to argue for what they considered to be a more rational dress for women he and most men saw this as a ridiculous notion.

Women dressing like men. he guffawed to himself Corsets and petticoats for females and trousers for males – just as nature decrees.

“Olivia.” Aunt Emily returned the greeting and the usual feminine exchange of cheek kissing commenced and after a little small talk the woman turned to Claude.

“I am Miss Strangelove an old school friend of your aunt, indeed all your aunts.” she smiled, her eyes taking in every inch of the young man.”You must be Claudette.”

Claude visibly winced at the feminine variant of his name.

“Claude.” he said tersely trying to conceal his irritation at her ghastly error.

“Oh yes..yes.. I’m so sorry Claude.” she smiled “A slip of the tongue, how silly of me.”

Her arm slid under his and she moved them both towards the steps leading to the building’s entrance.

“I have heard so much about you.” Miss Strangelove said “Quite the bon vivant I understand.”

“Some would say miscreant.” his aunt suggested a little testily.

Usually, Claude would take this as a compliment but there was something inside telling him this was not the time to revel in his aunt’s description, particularly as his aunt now too eased her arm beneath his remaining free arm ensuring he was now firmly anchored to both women. However this barely registered as his eyes remained fixed on the group of girls, some of whom had begun to dismount and to his astonishment without a groom in attendance, they jumped from the stirrups to the ground.

“Why is only one of the girls dressed appropriately for riding side-saddle.?” he murmured quietly not expecting his thoughts to be heard, as two of the other riders helped her from the horse.

“Ah, yes…Andrew….” Mrs Strangelove smiled in a self-satisfied manner but immediately realised she had erred, quickly correcting herself she continued “Andrea of course, a new girl. Not the most graceful of girls I grant you but the child’s mother has entrusted her to us, to transform her into a daughter to be proud of.”

As he was still trying to comprehend the scene Miss Strangelove warmed to her theme,

“The other girls are more senior and are acting as mentors. Benefiting from our regimen, these young women are incredibly mature and self assured, as comfortable in a ball gown as one of those new bicycling costumes more suggestive of male clothing. They are as confident and capable  hunting astride in the saddle or shooting grouse and pheasant in the fields as in a duchess’s drawing  room.”

She could see his mouth agape in disbelief and smiled as she added,

“Of course not every mother wishes their child to be as dynamic or progressive and many prefer their offspring to have a more traditional schooling. Although some of these girls would prefer to emulate these older girls we have to comply with their mothers’ wishes and are only too pleased to oblige and these girls are kept in feminine apparel at all times. Extreme masculinity can be most corrosive which is why these girls will now change into more appropriate clothing.”

Claude, with his eyes continuing to assess each girl’s assets, was not quite fully engaged as he should have been. Miss Strangelove continued,

“We allow the senior girls a freer approach to dress in certain circumstances, such as horse riding and other sporting pursuits. Approaching a new century we encourage our more confident pupils to challenge the traditional conventions of a patriarchal system in ways that they feel would be most beneficial in achieving full female emancipation.”

This barely registered with the young man as his eyes remained on the group and in particular the heavy set figure in the dark skirted riding habit. He observed she was taller, bulkier and perhaps more broad shouldered than the others, her veiled riding hat obscured her face but experience had taught him that females with such inelegant bearing were usually far less pretty. She seemed quite confused and agitated as the other girls giggled, pointing to her costume and fussed about her skirts as they issued instructions. Eventually she began adjusting her costume and riding jacket,the group looked on smiling  encouragingly as their pupil followed their orders. One of the group suddenly realised they were being watched and alerting the others they looked in his direction.  Before he could avert his gaze he felt a little chill run down his spine, he noticed their smiles broadened on seeing him move towards the building’s entrance.

Before he was fully aware, he had reached the door. It was opened by a primly uniformed housemaid, her frilled cap and apron heavily starched, her eyes lowered she curtsied as they stepped into the hallway. As his eyes glanced around the large vestibule he heard the heavy thud as the door closed and he found himself being steered across the marbled floor towards a large dark oak door. Now, without any distractions he began to gather his thoughts.

“Em… I…ah…”he stumbled “If this is not a financial institution Aunt, what is it?”

“St. Jude’s, dear boy.” Miss Strangelove answered for his aunt “The finest finishing school for girls in the land.”

“Finishing school?” he repeated unable to disguise his mild disquiet “… for… girls?”

“Yes, my dear.” Miss Strangelove confirmed, her tone quite patronising and as her eyes locked on his she continued in a voice confident in its own authority “Every young person crossing our threshold will be turned into an elegant young lady.”

“Well not every young person surely.” Claude laughed in a stilted, almost tense voice as he realised he had become the object of attention of several girls moving through the large hallway. His nostrils filled with the floral aroma of female scent and the sound of rustling silk and taffeta drifted from his ears to his brain.

“There is someone I would like you to meet Emily”.” Miss Strangelove said as she opened the door and guided them through.

As the door closed behind the trio, a tall women turned from gazing out the window. She smiled as Miss Strangelove and Aunt Emily moved across the large well appointed study with their cargo secured firmly between them. Looking down, Claude was so closely tethered to the women that he could barely distinguish his trousers as they seemed to be engulfed the silk and satin skirts of his companions.  As they glided towards the other woman Claude estimated she was a similar age to his aunt, quite elderly, he guessed probably forty, perhaps a year or two older. Despite her advanced age she was quite attractive with light brown hair done up in a conventional style. Her dress was a burgundy colour ensemble including an overskirt, underskirt with the bodice closing with buttons at the front, it had an asymmetrical overskirt with black lace at the hem which gave an apron effect. Her green eyes took in every inch of the young man from head to foot and turning her attention to his aunt, smiled warmly as Miss Strangelove made the introductions.

“Miss Parker Burke, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” she said in a vaguely foreign accent “I have heard so much from Miss Strangelove.”

“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.” Aunt Emily answered “Your reputation precedes you Countess.”

Claude now finally free from his custodians moved a little away from the female company as they exchanged small talk and wondered would they miss him if he slipped out to inspect the young females he had seen earlier.

“Some tea, perhaps.” Miss Strangelove said ringing the servants’ bell.

“So this is the notorious Claude.” Countess von Ottendorf said, her eyes once more running over the young man. Usually he would be pleased with such a remark, considering it a badge of honour and make a witty reply but for some reason he could not fathom the look in the Countess’s eyes made him uneasy, something informed him this was not a comment made in admiration, he held his tongue and smiled somewhat nervously.

“Sit next to your aunt and I, child.” the Countess issued the instruction as if speaking to a five year old as she and his aunt positioned themselves in front of the sofa and adjusting their bustles they gracefully lowered themselves onto its comfortable upholstery. The Countess patted the seat between them.

”The place of honour as the only male in the room.” she said lightly but for some strange reason  he felt a little nervous  at the tone of her voice.

“Come along, Claude.” Aunt Emily said a little impatiently “Please do not dawdle.”

Reluctantly, and with an increasing sense of apprehension that he could not quite understand, the young man obeyed his aunt. Miss Strangelove eased herself onto a large armchair opposite them and just as she had finished adjusting her skirts a quiet knock on the door was heard. On hearing the command to enter two parlour maids entered bearing trays and immediately began unloading the contents onto the table.

One of the maids began arranging the delicate Wedgewood china as the other maid, which Claude took to be the senior servant, seemed to act in a supervisory role indicating where each cup and saucer should be placed. The junior girl seemed somewhat nervous and on rattling one cup was discreetly corrected  by her companion as the ladies looked on, their eyes following the maid’s every move. The supervising maid could be heard quietly encouraging her charge and after an anxious beginning the girl recovered and completed her task without further incident.

The senior maid was, Claude noticed, far prettier with dark hair fashioned into an attractive  braided arrangement, her large blue eyes with long lashes set perfectly either side of her snub nose. Her lips were full and slightly pouted making her face all the more alluring. However Claude could see this seemingly charming face could not disguise the subtle satisfaction she got from supervising her minion who was undoubtedly far less attractive with a prominent nose, thin lips and short hair tied into a functional squat ponytail with strands of stray hair falling from under her frilled cap. Her torso was larger, less lithesome and seemed somehow devoid of the usual graceful feminine movement which even the most clumsy servant girl possessed. Although her waist was smaller than her superior’s, the result Claude concluded of an especially tightly drawn corset. It was a sight he never tired of.

“Maria appears to be improving, Judith.” Miss Strangelove said as both maids withdrew and curtsied after the various pieces of china had been arranged on the table and as the maid was about to reply she stopped, as her mistress turned to Claude “You will be kind enough to pour dear boy.”

She the gestured to the girl to continue as Claude, mindful of the female eyes on him, began his task pouring from the teapot carefully and with the utmost concentration.

“Continue Judith.” Miss Strangelove instructed the girl.

“Yes Headmistress.” Judith replied eagerly “He still requires supervision on certain tasks as you can see but he …”

“Oh please do be more careful Claude.” Aunt Emily said as the young man, distracted by the maid’s commentary, almost missed the cup completely.

Did she say he? Claude blurted to himself.

“Oh please allow me Master Claude.” the girl said cleaning the saucer as Claude looked on more than a little befuddled, thinking he had probably misheard her remarks. As she carried out her task she turned to look at him and smiled before resuming her position in front of her mistress.

“You were saying Judith.” Miss Strangelove said as Claude, his hand still unsteady, resumed pouring the tea.

“Maria has indeed made progress.” the maid continued “And has become proficient in some basic domestic task such as bed making, boot polishing and similar chores however he still has difficulty with other areas such as darning, stitching, and at times he is not as scrupulous at dusting as he should be. However…”

The girl stopped as, once more, the slight but distinct rattling noise of the  teapot coming into contact with delicate china suddenly filled the room followed quickly by the heavy sound of the teapot being returned to the table. This ensured several sets of female eyes were fixed once more on Claude whose face now wore a vaguely troubled expression as he looked in Judith’s direction, who merely smiled sweetly at him.

“Your nephew seems somewhat distracted Miss Parker-Burke.” the Countess said quietly and patting him on the thigh added “Are you feeling unwell, Claude?”

“Um…ah… I’m … fine.” he lied unconvincingly although unsure himself as to the cause of his sudden bewilderment and adding to this creeping nervousness he was now suddenly aware of his companions’ heavy silk and satin skirts practically enveloping his legs.

As silence once more descended he tried to gather his thoughts and unsettled by his mounting disquiet he resisted the urge to glance in the junior parlourmaid’s direction. He received a degree of respite when Judith handed Miss Strangelove a piece of paper and not allowing this small interruption to interfere with her report she continued,

“Of course still being a little disorganised and lacking concentration he almost scorched one of my aprons when performing ironing duties and he does tend to complain when he is being corseted. There are some other less serious transgressions on my list, Headmistress.”

 “His attitude and demeanour?”Miss Strangelove asked.

The source of Claude’sanxiety was now quite clear to him. The sustained and deliberate use of the male pronoun by the servant girl and he mistress could not be a mistake. Claude could no longer restrain himself from glancing at the junior maid.

He! The voice inside his head gasped incredulously.

He! Claude repeated silently. Surely not.

His eyes met the servant’s, the face immediately became scarlet and the eyes dropped to the floor.

No, surely not.” Claude once more declared wordlessly yet his eyes inspected the girl’s features more closely than he had previously done.

Gazing at the face beneath the frilled maid’s he could now see what previously he could not. The strong jaw, prominent nose, a mouth that now seemed strangely at odds with the uniform of a female servant. He was unaware his own mouth had now opened in barely disguised astonishment, nor was he mindful of  the low whine that escaped from it. However his appearance did not go unnoticed by his companions but they remained silent as Judith continued,

“His attitude has greatly improved, Headmistress.” Judith reported as she took up position next to her junior colleague and made a seemingly unnecessary adjustment to the maid’s cap. “Despite the failings I have recounted he does appear to have accepted his new role and although his demeanour is still lacking certain aspects of femininity he does seem to be trying to absorb the lessons myself and the other servants teach him. But he does need correction on a regular basis as it certainly does help him to concentrate on his ultimate goal.”

“And does he resist?” the Countess asked as her eyes fell on the junior maid whose eyes remained fixed on the ground.

Does he resist? Claude repeated the Countess’s question in his head and the reality of the maid’s situation finally hit home, more questions began to develop in his brain. How… why… who… what…

But a sudden fear rendered his vocal chords useless.

“Oh no, Countess.” Judith replied “He has learned that lesson the hard way. Resistance only leads to further punishment and the possibility of a return to Mrs Coldstrap’s kitchen. No, he fully recognises his shortcomings and accepts his punishment. Although he does tend to squeal like a girl at times.”

“Is that true Maria?” the Countess asked, after a brief pause and without lifting his head the maid replied.

“Yes Mother.” Maria answered.

“Countess, to you girl.” Judith snapped “And you forgot to curtsy, that is another demerit.”

“I’m sorry, Countess.” Maria said immediately and curtsied.

“Well… do you squeal like a girl?”the Countess repeated.

“Yes Countess.” the maid sobbed softly as he curtsied once more.

“Perhaps you would like to see the punishment administered Countess?” Miss Strangelove asked.

Mother! The word resonated inside Claude’s head and he once more began having difficulty in processing the scene that was playing out front of him and barely heard the Countess’s affirmative response.

Judith gestured to the unfortunate miscreant to take up a position over a padded wooden structure in the corner of the room. Claude watched, unable to speak, as the maid  without instruction lifted several layers of petticoats and bent over the sturdy frame facing the seated company and tried desperately to avoid eye contact.

“As he is making progress and this latest indiscretion may be an aberration I think perhaps six light strokes may be sufficient.” Miss Strangelove said, looking to the Countess for her approval. An almost regal nod of the Countess’s head approved the suggestion.

“Six  light strokes of the cane my girl.” Judith informed the already snivelling figure as she withdrew a long thin rod from a stand of several similar instruments “What would you like to say to the Headmistress?”

Hearing this, a look of relief came over the maid’s face.

“Oh thank you Headmistress.” came the response.

“Mother?” Claude finally found his voice as he glanced  at the Countess who patted him on the thigh and smiled as a slight whistling sound and the sharp sound of bamboo on flesh announced the arrival of the first stroke.

On the third stroke a low whining issued forth from the prone servant, Claude noticed with increasing unease how the women looked at each other and smiled. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that this was no place for a young man and now felt the urgent need to leave but he was now aware his legs were not obeying the signals from his brain. The episode was over quite quickly, however Maria remained in position unwilling to move until he was told to do so by his superior. Miss Strangelove nodded her head and Judith placed a finger under Maria’s chin and raised his head so his tearful countenance now faced the assembled guests

Everyone in the room could clearly see the shame and humiliation etched on his face as he addressed Miss Strangelove from his prone position

“Thank you Headmistress.”

“Now come here girl.” Miss Strangelove instructed.

Claude, his mouth agape watched in disbelief as what he now understood to be a male dressed in a maid’s uniform rearranged his skirts under the supervision of Judith. His brain was racing as the evidence mounted and he was now becoming increasingly afraid of the inevitable conclusion. Suddenly into his mind’s eye came the picture of the horsewomen he encountered earlier and particularly the tall, ungainly and not very pretty girl riding side-saddle who seemed deeply uncomfortable when their eyes met. It was the same look that haunted the face of the maid that now stood in front of him. As he struggled to think what name Miss Strangelove called her Judith fussed with her junior’s apron.

“I now see what you mean Judith.” the Countess smiled “He really does squeal like a girl.”

The male maid’s cheeks turned crimson but Claude could clearly see this sensation was due to his mortification rather than anger or rage; it was also obvious that this unbearable ignominy had sapped the wretched young man of basic masculine confidence and even the vaguest thought of rebellion seemed to be far beyond the grasp of this meek girlish figure.

A male maid. The words repeated themselves in Claude’s head.

“And how long have you been in domestic service in St Jude’s Maria?” Aunt Emily asked the forlorn servant.

“I…ah…ah…”Maria struggled trying to answer as the humiliation became too much and the tears seemed to well up in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry, girl.” Judith snapped.

“They tend to lose all track of time once they enter service in St Jude’s, Miss Parker-Burke.” Miss Strangelove said as she smiled at Claude.

A peculiar dryness formed in his mouth and a strange queasiness took hold in the pit of his stomach as this bizarre spectacle before him appeared to come to a conclusion, he turned to his aunt and vainly attempted to speak.

Why does no one else find this outlandish? We need to leave.

But the words never left his mouth and the smile his aunt gave him did not offer reassurance.

Engrossed by these events he failed to notice the two large women in greyish blue uniforms enter the room and approach Miss Strangelove, he now observed that one of the held what appeared to be a metal rod.

“Ladies, these are two of my outside servants, Gretchen and Matilda.” Miss Strangelove said as the large females stood in front of the company and cast their expressionless faces on Claude who quickly turned to his aunt.

“I think we should leave Aunt Emily,” he blurted as he finally found his voice “we will be late for our appointment.”

His aunt continued to smile at him.

“Oh darling Claude, you are a silly goose.” Aunt Emily answered “This is our appointment.”

“But…what…ah…”he stammered.

The servant that held the metal rod extended it to Claude.

“I was wondering if young Master Claude could bend the rod for us.” Miss Strangelove said gesturing to the maid who handed it to him.

“But…I…don’t understand…why?...”he continue to splutter.  

“To demonstrate your masculine superiority of course.” the Countess said.

In a rare moment of clarity Claude the idea came to Claude that bending the metal would finally put an end to the nonsense he had witnessed and display to these women that there was at least one man in the room worthy of the name.

However quite quickly he discovered that the task was proving more difficult that he had anticipated and he struggled to make any impression on the piece of metal.

After several attempts a large hand took it from him and staring him in the eyes Gretchen bent the rod with little exertion before handing it to Matilda who with equally little effort straightened it.

Claude felt another pang of nervousness as both servants continued staring at him with barely disguised smirks.

“Now, Claude darling,” Aunt Emily said patting him on the thigh once more “You may be wondering about what you have witnessed here today.”

He didn’t answer but his eyes moved from one figure to another finally coming to rest on Maria whose face had changed, the look of shame and humiliation was now replaced with what Claude thought was sympathy. Confused, he quickly looked away.

“St Jude’s is an establishment which prides itself on instilling the qualities of decorum, propriety and gentility among others in its pupils.” His aunt continued, fixing him with her steely gaze. “However as you have no doubt by now realised its pupils are not exclusively female.”

A rising fear building inside him, Claude’s eyes now searched for the door and he drew in his legs attempting to muster the strength to stand but his calf and thigh muscles remained unresponsive, he looked once more at his aunt as she persisted with her lecture seemingly unaware of the poor boy’s discomfort.

“As you may possibly have gathered, Karl Maria is the son of the Countess but now known as Maria and is one the junior house-parlour maids here. And that ungainly girl we saw on our arrival is Andrew Carrington, or should I say is now addressed as Andrea, the son of Lady Antonia, Baroness Ardmore he was three years behind you in school but perhaps three months ahead of you now.”

The Countess and Miss Strangelove laughed lightly, a smirk creased the faces of Gretchen and Matilda, and Judith smiled in his direction. He suddenly became fearful and claustrophobic.

“B…but…why…I…don’t…” Claude forced the words from a dry throat, “…under…understand.”

“No I’m sure you don’t Claude.” the Countess said caressing his cheek “But you soon will.”