AVVE Chapter 11

Below is Chapter 11, I thought this chapter would finish the story but there was such a good response to the last chapter it may last for yet one more. Before it was somehow removed  the figure in the ‘more box’ showed approx. 40 readers liked it which is very encouraging – although poor Aubrey probably would not thank you for giving me such motivation to continue his feminisation –  so it seems the unfortunate boy has at least one more chapter to endure.

I have (probably like many of you) read quite a bit about the Victorian era – particularly the 1880-90’s-  and the clothes these women wore never fail to fascinate and thrill me in equal measure. Just close your eyes and imagine being put (forced perhaps, by a maid with a smiling society matron supervising ) into any of these gowns after having been first laced into a corset and then three or four petticoats placed around your waist.

 And this was normal for upper class women!- Lucky creatures.

Well, such is my fantasy and I’m delighted many of you share it also.

Thank you again for all your support, it would not have been possible without it.

Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter also.

Take care

Carrie

Ps I should add that this being summer in the northern hemisphere I have a lot going on for the next month or two so I’m not sure when the next chapter will be posted – it could be 6 -8 weeks maybe even longer. Hopefully as an interim measure if time permits, I may post an illustration of Aubrey with some text. 

A Very Victorian Education 

by CarrieP

Chapter 11

The noisy and seemingly endless chatter of more than a dozen women filled the elegant drawing room of the Honourable Mrs Leonora Cockshott’s London residence. Society matrons and their daughters dressed in the latest fashions from the haute couture houses of Paris complimented one another on their gowns, exchanged the juiciest morsels of gossip concerning mutual friends who were conveniently absent and of course discussed at length the perennial and most vexing issue of the ‘servant problem’. The guests were exclusively female and although most of these women were dressed conventionally in gowns of silk, velvet, satin and taffeta, a few were attired in a more unorthodox style. These particular visitors stood out as they were dressed in fashionable and well tailored male clothing, their hair cleverly arranged to affect a masculine style. They behaved in every way as males, sitting and standing as a man would with their legs apart and moving about the room confidently and unfettered by the restricting and voluminous feminine garments of the other female guests.  

One of the young women dressed in this manly attire was Roberta Cockshott, daughter of the lady of the house and the person responsible for this gathering of ladies of the Ladies Suffrage Society. To all present it appeared that the company was exclusively female and not one of the ladies suspected that the young parlourmaid serving them was in fact a male. In fact not only did he look more feminine than the women masquerading as males but in an unconventional way was more attractive  than some of the young ladies dressed in their expensive gowns.

However this seemingly convincing feminine façade was little consolation to Aubrey St Clair, the extremely anxious and fearful young man dressed in the formal uniform of a parlourmaid. Although he had been forcibly confined in ladies clothing for several months at the hands of Lady Charlotte de Winter he was in constant fear of having his true sex revealed, such a discovery in the close knit circles of London society would ruin his life. Having been mistaken as a servant girl in Lady Charlotte’s home by Mrs Cockshott she cajoled her good friend into, as she put it ‘borrowing the girl’, until she employed her own maid. Now within hours of arriving at her home he was dressed in a parlourmaid’s uniform and put to work serving afternoon tea to the assembled guests. Adding to his acute sense of dread was the fact that he had encountered Miss Roberta Cockshott in the park on his way from Lady Charlotte’s house and she had shown an inordinate interest in him. Now, surrounded by numerous exquisitely dressed society ladies as well as a number of young women attired in male clothing, he once more found himself in her presence.

“I really do wish you had given me a little more notice.” Leonora Cockshott admonished her daughter quietly while simultaneously smiling at a passing guest “you know apart from Cook and the kitchen maid I have no servants, apart from this girl.”

“And she is doing a wonderful job, Mother” Roberta answered smiling at Aubrey who blushed at her remark. “You have such excellent taste when it comes to servants. Where did you find her?”

“Roberta! I have told you before,” her mother said sharply, “please do not make such remarks in front of the servants.”

Aubrey cringed at her comment.

Since he had been forced to wear girl’s clothes under Lady Charlotte’s strict regimen, shame and humiliation were Aubrey’s constant companions. However the realisation he was now merely a servant, and a maidservant at that, increased these now familiar emotions by a factor he could not have imagined.

“If you must know I borrowed this girl on a temporary basis from Lady Charlotte.” Mrs  Cockshott answered, looking at her daughter with a stern face “and while we are on the subject, how do you know her? Please do not tell me you have not embarrassed yourself with one of Charlotte’s maids. I really could not face her if you had.”

Roberta gave her a coy smile but before she could answer her mother a well built matron wearing a blue taffeta gown suddenly joined their company.

“Leonora I must speak with you about our upcoming charity event.” she said and linking her arm in Mrs Cockshott’s moved her away.

“It seems we were meant to meet again.”Roberta said smiling at Aubrey as she moved closer“Now that you are in my mother’s service I will have an opportunity to get to know you better.”

From his own experience as a male Aubrey knew exactly what she meant. Her phrase ‘get to know you better’ was one he himself had used to housemaids in several houses and was usually followed by a grope of the girl’s breasts or behind. The fact that he was now seen as a female servant he was socially inferior to everyone in the room and especially to Roberta as she was the daughter of the mistress. In this subordinate position the role of the maid was clearly defined – she or in Aubrey’s case he- was subject to the complete authority of his mistress, her family and anyone of a higher social standing.

In his embarrassment he could not meet her eyes and cast his downwards, but even here there was no escape from the shame as his eyes fell on the apron covering his uniform dress- an ever present reminder of his new lowly status. Roberta continued,

“Oh, no need to be so coy, you know you are pretty.” she said quietly and gestured to a group of similarly dressed ladies “as you can see my friends also seem to think so.”

Her remark shocked him and from the corner of his eye he could see a number of the guests looking in his direction, their eyes clearly focused on him. He recognised the look, it was one he and his friends had often used just before they began pursuing the object of their desires. Two ladies in particular, one wearing a black pinstripe suit with a garish yellow waistcoat and the other wearing a gown of blue green silk with a ruched overskirt, seemed to be paying him special attention. The one wearing the suit was a young woman and the other a handsome middle aged women and he could see that despite being heavily corseted both were a little on the plump side. Their eyes never left him and he was now convinced that they were deep in conversation about him.

“Apparently they like those peculiar boyish looks of yours.” Roberta said and with a smile added “but then we all do.”

The mention of his boyish looks reignited the young man’s apprehension and could feel his stomach tighten.

“I wonder if Mother will invite them to stay overnight.” Roberta continued somewhat absentmindedly “of course if she does, they will require a maid to undress them.”

Aubrey’s eyes were drawn to the couple and he felt a panic rise inside him.

“I’m only teasing you.” Roberta giggled “no need to be alarmed.”

The relief was evident on his face and he almost let out an audible sigh.

 “You didn’t think I would allow anyone else to have to you themselves.” she said “I think you would probably prefer to act as my maid than to those ladies.”

Despite his brain being in turmoil Aubrey knew there could only be one answer.

“No….sir.” he stammered.

“You remembered to call me sir.” she said “what a clever girl you are.”

“Roberta” Mrs Cockshott’s brusque voice came from behind him “please stop conversing with the maid and engage with your guests.”

 “Of course Mother.” Roberta replied and turning to Aubrey whispered “I will see you later.”

“And you, girl.” Mrs Cockshott addressed him curtly as she pointed towards the ladies that were watching him. “I know you are not long in domestic service and unused to being in the presence of such eminent ladies but do try to remember you are my maidservant and as such your attitude and performance will reflect on me. Do you understand?”

Aubrey’s nerves were already frayed by being in such close proximity to so many women and he was acutely aware that the merest hint of any male trait would immediately arouse suspicion. Having grown up with servants he knew what was expected of a parlourmaid in such situations and failure to act in the appropriate manner would only draw attention to himself. So far he had managed to avoided any major mistake that would call into question his true sex and despite a few remarks by Mrs Cockshott he appeared to have evaded detection. Sarah’s advice about escaping detection was to think like a female servant appeared to be working and he felt if he could maintain this masquerade  he had a chance to pass as a maid.

“Do you understand, girl?” Mrs Cockshott repeated in an exasperated voice, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes Madam. I’m sorry Madam.”” he replied, now in full parlourmaid persona, he curtsied.

“Now run along and attend to those ladies by the window... and be quick about it.”

“Yes Madam.” he answered and curtsied again.

His uniform gently fluttering about his legs and his nerves on edge, he made his way to the group of ladies seated by the window.

“Ah there you are girl.” the young woman wearing the pinstripe suit said, her eyes surveying every inch of the maid standing in front of her.

She was taller than Aubrey and her shoulders were quite broad, male clothes combined with strong facial features and carefully arranged  hair and gave her an almost but not quite masculine look. Two small but visible bumps at her chest and her rather wide hips betrayed her true sex, nevertheless she cut an imposing figure. He detected moistness on her lips that he found disturbing and he had to hold his dress tightly to stop his hands from shaking. This stately figure stood while the other women, all dressed in fashionable gowns of various colours and fabrics sat demurely holding their teacups in their delicate hands. He felt the eyes of the assembled ladies on him, instinctively he knew what every parlour or housemaid would do. He curtsied.

“Yes…”he began, unsure of his form of address but quickly blurted “Sir.”

A strange look came over the young woman’s face.

“Sir.” she laughed and looking bemused at the other ladies, repeated “Sir.” before adding in a theatrical voice  “Do I look like a ‘sir’?”

The ladies giggled and Aubrey blushed furiously.

“Oh Georgie! don’t be cruel.” one of the ladies half- heartedly admonished the mannish woman in the suit. “She is only a maid after all.”

“Yes Georgie, stop teasing the poor girl.” a middle aged lady in an emerald green taffeta gown said.

“I’m sorry Miss.” Aubrey said “it’s just that …with the gentleman’s suit… “

Fear and shame in equal measure engulfed Aubrey and in a reflex action he grabbed the skirts of his uniform even tighter however could see the ladies were sympathetic to his plight, he continued in a suitably meek voice,

“Miss Roberta likes to be addressed as ‘sir’ when dressed in male attire. I thought you may wish to be addressed in a similar fashion.”

“She does, does she?” the person he now knew as Georgie said with a forced smile “well my pretty young parlourmaid if it is good enough for your mistress’s daughter then it is good enough for me.”

“Georgie why don’t you run along and join Roberta.” one of the ladies said “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about regarding the meeting.

“I’d rather stay and get to know this young thing.” Georgie said, her eyes still fixed on Aubrey.

“Georgie!” the lady snapped “do as Mummy says.”

“Oh please I….” Georgie began.

“Now, Georgie.” his mother interrupted sternly “and please remember your manners in front of the servants. We have to set an example to the lower orders”

Georgie looked crestfallen and was about to object but the look on her mother’s face and the obvious disapproval of the other ladies immediately dissuaded him of the notion.

“Very well.” he said sourly.

“Is that how you speak to your mother young lady.” a woman in a turquoise velvet gown said sharply and the entire company nodded their heads in agreement.

Georgie blushed at this reprimand in front of a servant and Aubrey could see the haughtiness of the young woman disappear like air from a burst balloon.

“I’m sorry …”and she looked down at the floor “Mummy.”

“You may go now.” his mother said waving her away.

Aubrey was always amazed at the power mother’s had over their daughters. A certain look or sharp word would quickly bring even the most headstrong young woman into line, just like a well trained puppy.

The assembled company watched her leave and then turned their attention to the maid standing before them.

“Come closer girl.” Georgie’s mother instructed him and raised her lorgnette to inspect him. “now turn around.”

“Mmm, an unusual visage, I can understand Georgie’s interest.” a lady wearing a two piece grey satin day dress said, Aubrey saw the other ladies nodding in agreement.

“Yes she is quite pretty.” Georgie’s mother agreed and addressed Aubrey “I’m sure a pretty maidservant has plenty of suitors. Isn’t that so my dear?”

Aubrey could not help himself from blushing.

The ladies smiled at his bashfulness.

“Roberta seems to have taken a shine to her also.” another lady said as Aubrey’s colour deepened much to the ladies amusement.

“Ladies please.” Georgie’s mother, clearly the dominant personality within the group, gently chided her companions. She turned her gaze to Aubrey once more.

“Now girl, we have attended an outdoor meeting in the park and the underfoot conditions were not ideal and as a result our footwear and the hems of our dresses require some light cleaning.”

She took her napkin from her lap and handed it to him and proffered her foot. He hesitated briefly.

“Come along, we do not have all day. You cannot clean my boots from there.” she said before adding in a commanding tone that he had heard so many matrons of her social rank use to their servants, “On your knees, girl and get to work.”

Under normal circumstances Aubrey would not have thought this an unusual request from a lady of such eminence to a housemaid, parlourmaid or any servant and it would be a brave or foolish girl to refuse. But these were not normal circumstances and after all servants merely existed to serve their social superiors and cater to their every whim no matter how humiliating the task.

And- as if he needed reminding – he was now a uniformed maidservant. To refuse would only cause a furore which would as a consequence create unnecessary problems and increase the likelihood of his exposure.

Self-preservation trumped any sense of ego.

You are a maidservant. Think and act like a maidservant. he shouted inside his head.

“Yes Madam.” he said taking the napkin.

“My name is Lady Theodora Martinet.” she corrected him “So you should address me as m’lady or your ladyship.”

Aubrey felt is heart skip a beat at the mention of her name. He had been so unnerved by his encounter with Georgie that his eyes had not scanned the ladies in her company. He felt the moisture seep from his mouth.

Lady Martinet- the woman who several years earlier had forced him into girls clothes to perform in a play. He had little time to dwell on this horrible discovery as the formidable figure addressed him sharply,

“Are you listening girl.”

“Yes m’lady.” he blurted and without thinking curtsied quickly adding in a most contrite and submissive voice “I’m sorry m’lady.”

“Well you may begin with Mrs Fanshaw next to me” Lady Martinet said and be sure to check between the pleats of the hem.”

In a few moments time seemed to slow and the events of his previous encounter with this intimidating woman flooded his brain. He immediately recalled that she demanded total obedience from those she considered subordinate to her which included younger people, people of a lower social rank and of course servants. He failed to defy her then and now dressed as he was would not even contemplate such a ridiculous idea.

Being in the presence of so many society matrons would be enough to ensure unconditional deference no matter what their sex or social status and Aubrey in his present attire felt as subservient as any maidservant could possibly feel.

His uniform and the lowly status in conferred on him seeped into his brain and looking at the assembled gathering of elegantly dressed ladies he became one with it.

He looked like a servant girl.

And now he felt like a servant girl.

“Yes m’lady.” he answered and lifting his bulky petticoats he lowered himself at the feet of Mrs Fanshaw and began his humiliating task.

 “As I was saying ladies” Lady Martinet addressed her friends as if having a maid on her knees before her was a normal occurrence “there were some splendid ideas raised at the meeting. The idea that we should assert ourselves over the male sex is an excellent example, we have been subservient to them for far too long, catering to their every whim, obeying their every command. Sometimes we are no better than servants.”

As the ladies nodded their agreement Lady Martinet interrupted her lecture to ensure Aubrey was complying with her instructions.

“Do not forget the pleats at the hem girl.”

“Yes m’lady.” Aubrey replied from his kneeling position

“And make sure the hems of my petticoats are clean also.” Mrs Fanshaw added.

“Yes Madam.” Aubrey answered as he lifted the heavy velvet material of her dress to reveal three flounced white silk petticoats.

Satisfied that the maid was performing her duties Lady Martinet resumed the conversation with her friends, while Aubrey his head now under the heavy velvet skirts of Mrs Fanshaw, continued with his chore. In the semi darkness under her skirts he held the soft silk material of the first petticoat in his trembling hands and examined it for any trace of stain or dirt. He removed a small smudge and then repeated the process with her other two petticoats gently removing any spot of visible dirt. Once he was satisfied her garments were perfectly clean he emerged from under her skirts into the light and looked up at Mrs Fanshaw. She drew up the skirt of the dress to inspect his work.

“Excellent, what a diligent girl you are.” Mrs Fanshaw said as she examined the hems of her petticoats, she smiled at Aubrey “I wish my own lady’s maid was as meticulous. Now don’t forget my boots like a good boy.”

“Boy!” Lady Martinet exclaimed “did you say boy?”

She looked at Aubrey with a quizzical look on her face, the rest of the company stopped their chattering and fixed their eyes on the maid kneeling at the feet of Mrs Fanshaw.

Aubrey’s heart raced and he felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh I am so sorry my dear.” Mrs Fanshaw said in a genuinely apologetic tone. “You have such an angelic face, like a pretty cherub. It must have been the angle of your face, or a trick of the light but for a moment I thought you were boy, but obviously you are far too pretty to be a boy. How silly of me, I hope you are not offended?”

Mrs Fanshaw looked down at the maid kneeling at her feet, her soft face smiling at him.

“Ermm….No Madam.” Aubrey blurted

“Now that you say it, Gertrude.” Lady Martinet said “she does remind me vaguely of a boy I once knew. I just cannot remember who it was.”

“I’ll bet he was not as pretty as this girl.” One of the women giggled.

“Oh he was. You would be surprised the effect of a little powder, lip colour and a beautiful satin gown has on a young man.” Lady Martinet said quite seriously “it can tame even the most arrogant and feisty male and on the right one can make them look quite feminine. Such a pity I cannot remember the name of the boy, I think it must have been…”

“Oh Isobel.” Mrs Fanshaw interrupted her friend’s reminiscence and looked at Aubrey “you are embarrassing the girl.” and smiling at Aubrey added in a kindly tone “I think you may have forgotten to clean my boots my dear, now why don’t you get under my skirts and complete your task like a good girl.”

“Oh yes Madam , I’m sorry Madam.” Aubrey blurted in a most subservient voice, only too happy to seek the refuge of Mrs Fanshaw’s skirts and remove himself from Lady Martinet’s gaze.

 Under Mrs Fanshaw’s skirts Aubrey was hidden from the company and like an ostrich with its head in the sand he felt he could not be seen forgetting his plump derriere was on view to all the ladies present. His heart still racing from Lady Martinet’s remarks he resumed with this most menial of tasks, polishing her footwear. The black leather boots were buttoned to just below her calves, her shapely legs encased in flesh coloured silk stockings. While he was polishing her left boot her legs opened and the musky smell of her sex wafted into his nostrils and as he worked the napkin up the soft leather suddenly and without any warning her legs came together and his head was gripped between them. She squeezed them gently and he gasped as the silk of her stocking rubbed against his face. Underneath his silk bloomers and petticoats he felt his member harden, her legs squeezed his face once more and he gave a low whimper. After a moment she released him, he quickly finished the other boot and removed himself from under her skirts.

He remained on his knees and hoped his erection would subside before he was ordered to stand up, Mrs Fanshaw lifted her skirts to inspect her petticoats and boots.

“She seems efficient.”Lady Martinet said as she too inspected his work.

“Yes. Quite efficient.” Mrs Fanshaw replied and smiled at Aubrey with genuine affection “And very thorough, not a quality always found in a servant girl.”

A few hours ago Aubrey knew he would have been deeply offended and mortified at such a remark but now dressed as a parlourmaid in such exalted company he instinctively knew how to behave.

“Thank you Madam.” he said in a suitably meek voice.

“You may arrange my skirts properly.”Mrs Fanshaw said.

“Yes Madam.” he replied and positioned her petticoats properly before arranging the gown’s skirt over them to ensure the material fully covered them.

Mrs Fanshaw bent down for one final inspection and as her face came close to his she whispered so the rest of the company could not hear,

“You seemed to like it between my legs. I am looking for a personal maid and you may be the right person. Here is my card. I will be in touch.”

She slipped a card into his apron pocket before resuming her position. He rose from his kneeling position and presented himself to Lady Martinet.

“Attend to Mrs Deerhorn next.” Lady Martinet instructed Aubrey pointing another matron wearing a pale lilac taffeta afternoon dress.

Mrs Dearhorn sat imperiously on a couch, her obviously long corset ensured her back was straight as die. She lifted her skirts to reveal ankle length calf skin brown boots peeking out from under her skirt and hanging above these were three satin hemmed silk petticoats; she fixed him with her large pale blue eyes and spread her legs slightly.

“Come along girl.” she said gesturing towards the floor “You appear to have satisfied Mrs Fanshaw, I expect you can do the same for me.”

There could only be one answer for a maidservant.

“Yes Madam” he said quietly unsure of exactly what she meant.

From the corner of his eye Aubrey thought he saw discreet but knowing smiles on the faces of the other ladies however he was so nervous he could not be certain.

“Now that I look at you I think Mrs Fanshaw may be correct.” Mrs Dearhorn said and looking at the maid in front of her continued “there are cherubic almost boyish features in your countenance. We really could not have a boy under our skirts now could we?”

“Unless he was a castrato I suppose.” one of the ladies said, much to the hilarity of the group.

When the laughter died down Mrs Dearhorn produced a scissors from her handbag and making a snipping motion with them addressed him,

“I do hope we will not have to take any drastic steps. You are a girl, are you not?”

Aubrey, his eyes transfixed on the implement in her hand, let out a low whimper.

“Well?” Mrs Dearhorn asked as she held up a piece of paper and cut it “Is our young parlourmaid a boy or girl? Because you know what we do to boys.”

Aubrey gulped audibly.  

She clicked the scissors several times and smiled before adding,

“We make them into girls. Pretty obedient and compliant girls, isn’t that right ladies?”

All the women giggled, Aubrey became extremely anxious and grabbed his skirts in a most feminine manner as another involuntary whimper left him.

“Oh a girl, Madam.” he blurted his lips trembling “I’m a girl, please don’t….”

“Oh I have my doubts.” Mrs Dearhorn retorted, raising her eyebrows as her smiled widened.

“Oh Camilla do stop teasing the poor girl.” Mrs Fanshaw interjected and standing up she held his hands in hers. “Don’t mind the ladies my dear, they are just having a little fun. As you have probably gathered we do not hold the male sex in high regard.”

“Just because they wear trousers the feel they are the superior sex.” said a lady wearing a sage green floral silk brocade two-piece  bustle gown with ruched and pleated front panel on the skirt. “I would like to see one of them wearing this.” She gestured to her gown “with a long corset and four petticoats, not to mention the various items of lingerie we wear.”

“I can vouch from personal experience.” Lady Martinet said “dressing a male in feminine attire has a most salutary effect on them. Young males benefit most from such treatment and once confined to petticoats, corset and a pretty gown for several days they become quite obedient and docile.”

Aubrey would normally have cringed at such comments but Mrs Dearhorn’s display with her scissors and her remark about having doubts as to his true sex filled him with panic. However the ladies discussion appeared to have diverted the attention away from him.

“Ideal marriage material?” Mrs Fanshaw said with a laugh.

“Precisely.” Lady Martinet exclaimed. “but we can discuss this while this girl gets on with her work.”

She motioned to Aubrey to resume his position at the feet of Mrs Dearhorn. He never thought in his wildest dreams that he would be grateful to be ordered to clean a lady’s boots, skirts and petticoats but this degrading task offered him refuge from Mrs Dearhorn’s frightening attentions.

“Don’t worry my girl, if that’s what you really are.” Mrs Dearhorn said with a mischievous smile as she lifted her skirts and put away the scissors “I won’t hurt you.”

Aubrey flinched and she laughed heartily.

“I’m only teasing. I doubt if any male would humiliate himself by dressing as a girl nevermind as a   parlourmaid.” she said and pointing her walking cane at the floor added “Now why don’t you get under my skirts and perform your duties like a good girl.”

By now his masculinity was so diminished he did not resent her remark, all his concentration was on his female persona and how to be even more feminine in order to dispel any doubts Mrs Dearhorn harboured about him.

“Yes Madam.”he said dutifully and curtsied before dropping to his knees to begin his task.

Mrs Dearhorn, like Mrs Fanshaw, opened her legs slightly, once he was in position she let her skirts and petticoats fall over his back so only his rounded derriere protruded. There was barely any dirt to clean but he knew he had to remain in this humiliating position and go through the motions. As he brushed the imaginary dirt from her petticoats he was conscious of his hips moving from side to side.

He could hear voices from his half concealed location.

“A most pleasant sight.” a voice with a slight tremble said and the remark was met with a chorus of approval.

“Yes.” another agreed “ and a much better figure than my own maid.”

“Such a diligent girl.” he heard another say “Notice how hard she is working, her behind moving from side to side. I wish my own maid was as thorough.”

Underneath Mrs Dearhorn’s skirts he blushed furiously and as he continued his demeaning work he noticed a strange and unnerving silence fall over the room. The only sound he could hear appeared to be breathing which seemed to be quite laboured.

“I think my garters may need adjusting girl.” Mrs Dearhorn’s voice rang out and he felt a stroke of her walking cane on his buttocks.

He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly and when he did not reply immediately another more forceful smack of her cane landed. He suddenly was grateful for the three petticoats he was wearing as they softened the force of the blow. Her legs opened, signalling him to carry out her instructions.

“Yes Madam” he quickly replied and moved his head to seek and locate the items, once again the now familiar feminine smell filled his nostrils. Before he could react her legs closed like the lobes of a Venus flytrap and his head was firmly clamped between her thighs, the soft silk of her long pale pink bloomers pressed against his cheeks. She squeezed her legs and he was almost sure he heard her emit a soft moan. This was repeated several times in quick succession before he was released. After several seconds he felt her cane on his behind once more, a less harsh stroke this time.

“I think you have done enough girl.” a slight quiver in her voice penetrated through the layers of her skirts and petticoats.

Flustered and blinking he emerged from under Mrs Dearhorn’s skirts, all the women were silent and most appeared a little flushed.

“Camilla,I think we should visit the bathroom upstairs.” Mrs Dearhorn said to Mrs Fanshaw.

“Yes Gertrude.” Mrs Fanshaw answered, Aubrey was close enough to hear Mrs Fanshaw giggle to her friend in a low voice “A little relief would be most welcome.”

“A pity we cannot get the girl to attend us.” Mrs Dearhorn whispered.

“I’ll speak to Leonora before Roberta returns.” Mrs Fanshaw said “It’s blatantly obvious she has her eye on the girl but we may be able to get her first.”

Both women looked at Aubrey and exchanged knowing smiles. He knew that look, he had often used it on servant girls when he wanted a little fun. Of course his mother always intervened protecting the maids against his advances. He watched as Mrs Dearhorn furtively opened her bag and showed her companion something which made her giggle.

“It’s not that big but then again neither is she.” Mrs Fanshaw said nodding in Aubrey’s direction.

Aubrey could not see what they were discussing but knew it could not be good, he felt shiver run down his spine. He was now the object of interest for these women and as was the case with all maids he knew he would be subject to their demands unless the maid’s mistress decided otherwise. It had only been a few hours since he was put into a maid’s uniform and combined with the intimidating atmosphere of such a gathering of society’s most powerful and influential ladies Aubrey’s mind was being overwhelmed. Sarah’s advice to think and act like a maid was not needed as the role he was performing had almost possessed him. He now needed a protector in the same way the maids in his mother’s house needed her to protect them from his advances.

Perhaps the mistress will come to my aid. he said to himself as he stole a look at the three women.

Somewhere deep inside he was vaguely aware that he had used the word ‘mistress’ which he knew acknowledged  his acceptance of his status as a female servant but such was his fear that any outrage or indignation he felt barely registered. As a maidservant, and in this opulent room that was what he was seen as, he was on the lowest rung of the social ladder and would have to obey those who had authority over him. To do otherwise would expose his secret.

“I’m next.” a lady in a fuchsia pink satin dress blurted interrupting his thought.

“No, me.” another woman countered.

“Ladies ….please, everyone will be seen to, ” Lady Martinet said asserting her authority and gesturing to a lady in a garish yellow dress addressed Aubrey “see to Mrs Grainger-Smythe, girl.”

“Yes your ladyship.” he replied as the dutiful parlourmaid he now was and  obediently presented himself in front of the woman before kneeling at her feet. He saw Mrs Dearhorn and Mrs Fanshaw rise from their seats and cross the room to talk to their hostess, Mrs Cockshott.

The act of kneeling at a lady’s feet to remove dirt real or imaginary from the hems of the ladies dresses and petticoats was a demeaning task, even for a servant girl. Aubrey had witnessed housemaids performing this task on many occasions in his mother’s and other ladies houses and always noticed the look of humiliation on their faces. But servant’s feelings were of little consequence to society ladies, those in domestic service had no choice but to obey the orders of their social superiors.

Aubrey glancing down at his uniform was acutely aware of his status in this room.

“Get on with it girl.” Mrs Grainger-Smythe snapped.

“Yes Madam.” Aubrey answered quietly and lifted her skirts to begin his task.

One by one he performed his menial task and with each one another fragment of his masculinity was eroded and when finally he crawled out from under the last lady’s skirts such was his frame of mind that his first thoughts were to ensure his apron was clean and his cap fixed properly. A slovenly maid or one with an unclean or untidy uniform would reflect poorly on her mistress and would face a severe reprimand. Some mistresses were known to scold their maids harshly in front of guests, some were even known to use a strap or cane on their servant girls.

 And that was the last thing he wanted.

His experiences over the last few hours had taken an enormous toll on Aubrey’s sense of self worth not to mention his masculinity. The months of wearing girls clothes had ground him down and now he felt overwhelmed by the uniform he was wearing.

How could he consider himself male after what he had gone through?

He wasn’t sure he’d even had a male thought in the last few weeks. His mind was in such a state from months of being dressed as girl he wasn’t sure if he was indeed a male anymore. Maybe Sarah, Alice and Lady Charlotte were right, after all no real male would allow himself to be dressed in girl’s clothes. He didn’t have the courage to rebel like a young man would, maybe he didn’t deserve to be a man. He stole a glance around the room, he looked like a maid, acted like a maid, was now thinking like a maid  and in reality he was now what everyone in the room saw him to be- Mrs Cockshott’s new maid.

He had overheard servants in his mother’s house discuss how wearing a maid’s uniform quickly changed even the most independent and free-spirited girls. Their dignity and self-esteem were subsumed by wearing their new uniform and almost immediately became obedient and docile servants. The same fate now seemed to have befallen him.

Rustling skirts and petticoats suddenly alerted him to the presence of a lady standing over him. From his kneeling position he recognised Mrs Cockshott’s satin gown. He attempted to rise.

“Stay where you are.” she said and then addressed the woman whose skirts Aubrey had just cleaned. “Jane my dear, Lady Martinet would like to discuss the upcoming meeting with you.”

As the woman left with a flurry of skirts, Mrs Cockshott sat down and looked down at Aubrey.

“You seem to have made an excellent impression on the ladies.”Mrs Cockshott said quietly looking around at the contented faces. “Lady Charlotte has a good eye for girls, I’m sure you will make an excellent lady’s maid.”

“Thank you Madam.” Aubrey replied.

“Ah there you are.” A voice came from behind Aubrey, Mrs Fanshaw appeared in front of him and patronisingly patted him on the head.

“Such a sweet girl.” she said.

“And such a delicate touch.” Mrs Dearhorn’s added as she and Roberta arrived forming a semi circle around Aubrey.

“Mrs Dearhorn and Mrs Fanshaw are a little tired and are going upstairs to my bedroom to rest and will need a maid to undress them. They have asked for you.”

Aubrey could feel the blood drain from his face.

“I …ah… I…”he stammered.

“Well get up girl.” Mrs Dearhorn ordered “my corset will not unlace itself.”

“Come along my dear.” Mrs Fanshaw said in a gentle voice “no need to be afraid, we won’t bite you.”

Mrs Dearhorn stifled a laugh.

Aubrey looked at her and a low whimper emanated from his mouth.

“Oh I’m afraid I cannot allow that ladies.” Roberta interjected.

“I beg your pardon.” Mrs Dearhorn blurted a flash of anger in her eyes.

“What do you mean Roberta?”Mrs Cockshott said brusquely “The ladies need a maid to attend them.”

Roberta, her legs spread apart in a most masculine stance stood between Aubrey and the other women, her hands holding the lapels of her jacket like an experienced barrister addressing a jury, she radiated confidence.

“I’m sure they do.” Roberta answered her mother, meeting Mrs Dearhorn’s stare with quiet but determined assuredness “but as it happens I require the services of the girl myself as I need to change for the evening.”

“Surely that will not take that long.” Mrs Dearhorn responded sharply, gesturing disdainfully to Roberta’s male clothing.

Roberta was about to reply when her mother intervened.

“As it happens, Camilla, Roberta will be dressing in a more conventional manner this evening.” she said.

Roberta, maintaining her stance met her mother’s eyes with a look of mild bemusement.

“Isn’t that so. Roberta?” Mrs Cockshott said meeting her daughter’s eyes with a devious smile “I brought back some beautiful gowns from Paris and I simply cannot wait to see you wear them.”

“Mother!” Roberta retorted “We have had this discussion many times and you know my feelings on that matter. I have reached the age of majority and am now an independent woman I have waited years to be free of such restrictive clothing.”

She gestured to her male clothing before continuing,

“I find these clothes are far less cumbersome and practical for our sex and have no intention of voluntarily imprisoning myself in layers of silk and satin not to mention those ghastly corsets.”

“Of course you are right, as a grown woman and no longer under my authority I have no control over what you wear.” her mother sighed in a resigned voice “but I do control my servants and if your attire is as practical as you say you will not require the assistance of a maid to dress and undress whereas the ladies here could not possibly be expected to undress without the assistance of a maid.”

“I am so glad you agree Leonara.” Mrs Dearhorn snorted a triumphant smile forming at the corner of her mouth “and by the by I almost forgot to mention Gertrude and I are leaving for my estate in the country tomorrow and would be delighted if you could join us. Gertrude’s maid is ill so it would be wonderful if you bring the girl also. An additional maidservant will be most welcome.”

Another shiver went down Aubrey’s spine at her words, his eyes met Roberta’s and barely resisted a sudden urge to wrap his arms around her legs.   

 “That will depend on Roberta.” Mrs Cockshott said “if she comes to her senses and begins to act and dress like a lady perhaps then she will require the services of a maid.”

Roberta remained silent.

“Don’t worry Roberta.” Mrs Dearhorn said with undisguised glee “we will take good care of the girl, isn’t that right Gertrude?”

“Most certainly.” Mrs Fanshaw replied and addressed Aubrey “Now come along my dear, I do hope you will be as attentive in the bedroom as you were here.”

“Oh I’m sure she will be.” Mrs Dearhorn snorted and turning to Aubrey said “and if not dear Gertrude, we will have the next few days to ensure she is properly trained.”

Aubrey looked at Mrs Cockshott.

“It appears Miss Roberta will not require your services.” she said “now go with the ladies.”

As a servant Aubrey knew he had little choice in the matter unless of course he decided to flee the room but he knew that it was unlikely he would make it to the front door as there were several ladies in the hallway who would no doubt stop him. He would now be at the mercy of these two ladies and of course there was the prospect several days in an isolated estate. He desperately tried to think of a way he could get a message to Lady Charlotte in time.

“We have some pretty servant’s uniforms at the estate I’m sure they would fit you.” Mrs Fanshaw said, gesturing him to move towards the door.

“And if not I have a special long corset which will ensure she does fit into them.” Mrs Dearhorn added.

“Now say goodbye to Miss Roberta, it’s unlikely she will be seeing you again.”

As he was marched away between the two women, he looked over his shoulder at Roberta who was in conversation with her mother. Their eyes met.

“Please.” he mouthed.

  

A Very Victorian Education Chapter 10 with 2 illustrations

This chapter at almost 8500 words is more than twice as long as chapter 9 – hence the delay in posting. I hope you understand. I would have preferred to keep it to approx 4000 but as usual it took on a life of its own. Not a big fan of long chapters  so hopefully readers won’t find it too boring.  I think there may be only one more chapter left in this saga but I won’t be able to start it for a week or two so it may be longer than usual before I can post it.

However what I may do is something I have done previously, post a stand-alone piece with an accompanying illustration.

I know readers are sick of me saying this but thank you to all who were good enough to tick the ‘more box’. Apart from the comments section (thanks to those also) it is the only way I know if readers are enjoying Aubrey’s travails at the hands of his female tormentors. There is a lot of time and energy put into this and I really do appreciate people taking the time to acknowledge it. Without this support I really doubt if the blog would have continued as long as it has.

One last thing, I thought another illustration of Aubrey in the park would be a little boring and I don’t have enough time to do a second specifically pertaining to this chapter. I thought Lady Martinet from the previous chapter was an interesting character so I put her and Aubrey’s mother together. So nothing to do with this chapter.

Thanks again for your support and I hope you enjoy it.

Carrie

A Very Victorian Education Chapter 10

CarrieP

The music of the military band was very comforting as it penetrated his auditory canal and made its way into his brain. He liked marching tunes, they invoked a sense of manliness and vigour and reminded him of the camaraderie of the cadet corps at school. Marching in formation around the school in military uniform and the training on the rifle range was always enjoyable forging a wonderful esprit de corps among his schoolmates.  There was something very masculine about the oomph of the tubas and trombones, the brassy trumpets, clashing cymbals and the steady rat-a-tat-tat of the several drummers. He recognised the last tune as one of John Philip Sousa’s marches and was trying to recall the name when he felt a sharp slap on his cheek, quickly followed by another.

“Aubrey”

Was it Semper Fidelis or The Washington Post? he wondered.

Another slap.

“Aubrey”

A foul odour drifted into his nasal passages and hit his brain like a spike. He felt a little nauseous, he felt an unnatural compression on his torso and his breathing was a little laboured. It was as if his military uniform was a size or two too small for him, he remembered this was a prank often played on each other. He was obviously the victim this time.

His eyes flickered and opened, the flash of sunlight hit him, his head hurt and he closed them again before slowly opening them to adjust for the brightness. His friends would be laughing their heads off, it was always very amusing when someone passed out.

This is strange. He said to himself as his eyes began to focus. None of my friends appear to be here.

His focus sharpened as his brain began processing the scene around him and was further confused at the faces that gazed down on him, his senses now began to return and his hands felt a soft material as they made their way over his constricted torso.

“That’s strange.” he thought and looked down to investigate this unusual sensation. “No..Oh...no...no...this is a mistake.” he shrieked as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he gaped at the navy silk dress that enveloped his entire body, feverishly he pulled at it in a foolish attempt to  tear it from his body.

“Oh dear she’s still very disorientated.” one of the women said “stop dear or you will ruin your pretty dress.”

“Keep calm my dear, you’ve had a little turn and fainted.” another voice said as a pair of hands restrained his “You are a little confused, stay still you will feel much better in a moment.”

A small vial was placed under his nose, he immediately recognised the vile smell and jerked his head back to avoid it but a strong hand prevented it and the second wave invaded his nostrils.

“Ah yes, there really is no substitute for smelling salts.” another familiar voice said, “she should recover in a moment or two.”

A fog swirled around his brain and he remained t a little lightheaded as his eyes tried to focus on his surroundings. He noticed he was lying down on the park bench, the military band was still playing in the distance, reality was beginning to creep into his consciousness and he realised he was not imagining things. It was not a soldierly uniform he was wearing but a girl’s silk dress. He had returned to his very own feminine nightmare.

His blinking eyes slowly began to concentrate on the faces above him and one by one he recognised them, Sarah, Mrs Fitzgibbon, Mrs Carville. Now it began to come back to him, Mrs Fitzgibbon’s recollection of that dreadful incident several years ago when he was coerced into playing the role of a girl in one of his mother’s plays. He had, or at least up to now he thought he had successfully managed to erase this horrible episode from his memory but Mrs Fitzgibbon had dredged it up through her vivid reminiscence. It was ghastly ordeal, all those dreadful women circling him refusing to allow him to leave and that terrifying Lady Martinet, the very thought of her sent shivers down his spine. Under normal circumstances it would have been truly awful to have this recounted but now dressed as he was it became too much for him to bear and he fainted. He recognised Mrs Fitzgibbon from this episode and was fearful she would now surely recognise him. He looked at the three women who gazed down on him sympathetically.

“I think she is coming around.” another voice said from behind him and he felt his heart jump.

A figure in a dark morning suit with a top hat bent over him and two brown eyes set in an oval shaped face scanned him, a strong hand held his wrist as the other hand was pressed to his forehead. He was sure everyone could hear his heart beating.

“Her pulse is a little fast and she is a little warm but I do not think there is any cause for concern.” the newcomer said “perhaps it is just ....ahem... a lady’s usual problem at this time of the month.”

The experience of being forced out into the open in female clothing was a terrifying one for Aubrey, his absolute horror of exposure was his constant companion and meeting these two ghastly women was edging this closer to reality. However up to now they seemed to be somewhat baffled by his androgynous appearance and despite this, they- like the few women they encountered when he had first entered the park- appeared to take his dubious feminine appearance at face value. Aubrey knew a male would immediately recognise another male, like beasts in the wild it seemed an immutable law of nature and this was his worst nightmare. He would be ridiculed for the rest of his life. Unfortunately for him he wasn’t the only one to understand this. Earlier, to assert her authority and keep him under her control, Sarah had already threatened him with introducing him to some army officers who were close by listening to the military band. The thought of coming into contact with other males almost paralysed him with fear, it had the desired effect and his submissiveness was quickly re-established. Now this was becoming a reality and he felt a horrible panic well up inside particularly as this person despite this outrageous and quite ridiculous suggestion appeared to have medical training.

The figure in the top hat turned to the women and restated the prognosis,

“Yes, the usual monthly female issue. I would imagine that is all it is.  Perhaps she is too embarrassed to have mentioned it.”

Female issues!  Aubrey repeated and stared blankly at the faces looking down on him, he saw a snigger form on Sarah’s face but no look of obvious recognition of his maleness from this interloper who had now turned to engage with the ladies. Aubrey could barely believe his good fortune.

He hasn’t realised I’m male, so much for the medical profession. he said to himself while silently breathing a sigh of relief before a horrible thought struck him.  Am I really that feminine?

Sarah came forward and helped him into a sitting position as the company once more turned their attention to him.

“Is that right my dear? Mrs Carville asked her eyes examining him for tell tale signs “Your time of the month?”

Aubrey gave her a confused look.

“Madam wants to know if you are having your period.” Sarah bent down and whispered in his ear. “Best say yes or you will have a great deal of explaining to do.”

Four sets of eyes fell on him as he struggled to find the words. He felt Sarah fingers pinch him in the fleshy area under his armpit.

“Y…yes.”he mumbled and in an irony not lost on him he felt the blood surge into his face.

“Oh you young girls are so dramatic.” Mrs Fitzgibbon sighed.

“Oh don’t be so harsh on her.”  a voice said gently “perhaps you are forgetting she is still a young girl and there may be underlining problems. She looks much better now, a little walk would do her good.”

Aubrey looked up and saw the stranger in the morning suit hold out a hand and smiled sympathetically at him. He had no choice but to take it and Sarah assisted him in standing and again discreetly murmured into his ear,

 “It would be good manners to show your appreciation.”

He was under no illusions as to what she meant, he hesitated momentarily and yet again felt Sarah’s fingers dig into his soft flesh almost making him squeal.

“Thank you ...” his voice, bare audible wavered.

Another sharp reminder from Sarah indicated this was not enough.

“Thank you... sir” he mumbled and his cheeks reddened as he curtsied.

“Sir!” the figure in the morning suit laughed. “It appears my facade is much better than I thought.”

“Yes my dear, we too were fooled by this ...” Mrs Carville addressed Aubrey and raising her lorgnette to the newcomer continued in a tone of mild disdain “... person’s appearance. We too were under the impression this person was a gentleman.”

“But it seems this is not the case.” Mrs Fitzgibbon snorted derisively “this young lady is masquerading as a man. One of these new fangled suffragettes I believe.”

The figure in the morning suit smiled at both women and made a little adjustment to her waistcoat.

“I apologise if my appearance has caused you any discomfort.” the newcomer replied “I was on my way to an open air meeting of ladies interested in women’s suffrage when I noticed this young lady in distress. I am completing my medical studies in Oxford and felt I could be of some assistance.”

“Your assistance was most welcome young lady.” Mrs Fitzgibbon answered, her tone softening a little “However your choice of male apparel is most unbecoming a lady and although I do advocate and champion the emancipation of our sex from an oppressive patriarchy I do not think it necessary to parade in men’s clothing to achieve your goal.”

“It is to the advantage of the male sex that women and girls must wear cumbersome, bulky and heavy clothing to say nothing of the restrictive nature of our corsets.” the young woman replied “Such clothing prevents ease of movement and serves only to heighten our dependence on males. How could a female, corseted and dressed in silks and satins over several layers of petticoats be regarded as an equal?”

“We share your views on the attitudes of the male sex.”Mrs Carville answered “but we consider that such elaborate feminine clothing does have certain beneficial effects in behavioural terms and is the primary factor in contributing to the undoubted moral superiority of our sex over the degenerate male. In fact we are of the view that society would benefit greatly if males had sometimes to dress in similar fashions.”

“What a wonderful idea!” the newcomer squealed. 

Aubrey now fully recovered was once more becoming quite anxious, his eyes darting around the immediate area saw that  more people were entering the park and  he desperately    wanted to leave before something else happened.  

“But would it not be even better if we wore the trousers, surely this would reinforce our pre-eminence as the superior sex. Of course it could only happen in certain households where strong and assertive ladies were mistresses of their domain.” she replied and watched both ladies nod in agreement she then turned her attention to Aubrey and looked him directly in the eyes “And you my dear girl, would you not prefer to have the freedom of trousers rather than your cumbersome heavy dress and petticoats, restricting your every movement.”

Aubrey was stunned and stood frozen to the spot in front of her, he noticed she was about two inches taller than him and a little broader and now alerted to the fact she was female  he could make out small but noticeable mounds in her chest, something he had not previously perceived. Her determined face, with its large brown eyes and prominent cheek bones set in an oval face could be described as more handsome than pretty and it was easy to see how these features combined with the fashionable male suit projected a masculine presence. Suddenly he was overcome with a combination of resentment at the clothes he was forced wear and a strong jealousy of this woman dressed in the male clothing he should be wearing. He had never before encountered such an extraordinary figure and was trying to make sense of the situation when he suddenly realised she was still waiting for an answer.

“I...ah...”he mumbled as he eyed her clothes with envy.

“I think I sense you would perhaps welcome the opportunity to try male clothing for yourself.” she teased, a smile breaking out across her face.

Aubrey became flustered and could feel his face become quite red and responded by clutching the skirts of his gown to compose himself. It was such a feminine gesture and one not lost on his interrogator.

“I knew it.” the woman laughed triumphantly and Aubrey could see Sarah, standing behind the newcomer, suppress her own laughter.

“This young girl had quite enough of male clothing as a child.” Mrs Fitzgibbon interjected “it seems her mother wanted a boy and dressed the poor girl in boy’s clothing for several years. I believe she is extremely content in feminine clothing.”

Aubrey cringed at her words and felt a deep sense of humiliation that he was now seen as a compliant girl. What had begun as a short but perilous journey from Lady Charlotte’s home to Mrs Cockshott’s residence had reached yet another circle of Aubrey’s own personal hell.  Despite his worst fears he was both relieved and intensely ashamed that both older women- even though they had commented on certain male traits - had finally concluded that he was indeed a member of their own sex. However the arrival of this newcomer made Aubrey even more anxious and he wasn’t at all sure his feminine masquerade had convinced her. Furthermore he now realised her question about wanting to wear trousers hit a nerve and he felt his face had betrayed him. Now even more than ever he wanted to disappear from her presence as he was sure it would not take too much for her to expose him as a male in girl’s clothing.

“Perhaps you ladies would like to join me for the suffragette meeting.” the woman said as reluctantly she drew her eyes away from Aubrey. “I can assure you not all suffragettes dress as I do in fact the vast majority of our members are ladies as elegantly attired and as socially connected as yourselves. Mrs Bonneville- Smyth, Lady Clarice Douglas, Lady Charmine Hill and Her Grace the Duchess of Beaufort will be only a few of the many distinguished ladies attending. ”

Aubrey could see that both women were visibly impressed by the list of prominent society ladies.

“That does seem a delightful prospect.” Mrs Fitzgibbon said clearly excited about the prospect of joining such exalted company “perhaps we may have been a little hasty in our judgement, we have an appointment close by which will not detain us too long and we may join you afterwards.”

“I look forward to it, I’m sure the meeting would love to hear your very progressive views.” the young woman said raising her top hat as the older women took their leave excitedly engaged in conversation. She turned to Aubrey and Sarah

“And so we are finally alone.” the young woman said addressing both of them but her eyes fixed firmly on Aubrey. The encounter with Mrs Fitzgibbon and Mrs Carville Aubrey had been daunting but the way this woman looked at him made him even more nervous if that was possible. It was obvious that his appearance had piqued her interest and he could see her eyes scrutinizing every part of him, he clutched his skirts to keep his hands from shaking.

“Such a pretty little thing.” she said finally as she gently stroked his face with the back of her hand.

Aubrey felt a sudden sensation of vulnerability overwhelm him. He had often used the phrase ‘Such a pretty little thing’ on many occasions when alone with girls especially servant girls in houses he had been a guest in. He constantly used it to the housemaids in his own home- much to his mother’s annoyance. It asserted his dominance as a male over the female. A man could do this, it is the male privilege, after all males are the stronger sex and this is reflected in their manly fashions. On the other hand the voluminous and pretty gowns and petticoats of soft silks, satins, taffeta or velvet that women and girls were obliged to wear projected powerlessness and submissiveness. Wearing trousers conferred an innate superiority on its owner over the female sex, it was the natural order of things. Everyone accepted this.

Now enveloped in female clothing and confronted with such a confident figure dressed in fashionable male apparel Aubrey was immediately aware he was now on the receiving end of such treatment. The gown he wore ensured his submissiveness. The resentment he felt was instantaneously subdued by the knowledge that the merest flicker of male arrogance would surely lead to his exposure as a young man disguised as a girl and the abject humiliation that would follow. Fear of exposure was uppermost in his thoughts and he would do anything to ensure it would not happen. The weeks of being forcibly dressed as a girl under the strict feminine regimen of Lady Charlotte and Alice his Governess ensured he was aware how a young lady should behave particularly when in the presence of a lady of authority. Such was the apprehension these women had instilled in him he became a very accomplished pupil proficient in most aspects of the feminine realm. In fact such was his immersion in his new way of life- and very much to his disgust- on the rare occasions he was left alone he now found himself forgetting many of his male mannerisms and behaving in an almost completely feminine manner. Now, encountering yet another self-possessed and assertive woman the submissiveness implanted in him triggered a response that was now almost automatic. He curtsied.

“Yes very pretty.” she repeated as Aubrey blushed at her flattering remark.

“Thank you...”he answered meekly, unsure as to what form of address he should use“...sir.”

Aubrey could see that she seemed pleased at his choice.

“Yes, I do look the part.” she laughed as she gestured to her clothes. “When dressed like this people tend to call me ‘sir’ or Mister Robert but as we are practically friends you can call me Robert.”

“Robert?” Aubrey blurted.

“Well Roberta is my actual name.” she said “but Robert feels more appropriate when dressed in male clothing. You should try it some time, free yourself from your skirts. I’m sure you would like it and with your boyish looks and figure I think you could just about mange it without arousing too much suspicion.”

The very idea of a woman wearing male clothing under normal circumstances was bad enough but now he was forced to endure this spectacle of female emancipation while he himself was dressed as a girl. For Aubrey this was a total injustice, an unbearable humiliation howeve he felt his anger would betray him if he looked at her directly and so he dropped his eyes to the ground.

“And what should I call you?” she said seemingly taking this act as a sign of shyness.

“Aubrey.” he replied softly, stifling his resentment.

“Well young Aubrey why don’t you and your friend accompany me to the suffragette meeting.” Roberta said reaching out and touching his hand “and perhaps we could have tea afterwards.”

“I’m sorry Miss.” Sarah answered for him and linked her arm with Aubrey’s and began to move him away “we would love to join you but we are on an errand for my mistress and we are already late.”

“Oh dear that is such a great pity.”Roberta said the disappointment clearly evident on her face and her gaze fell on Aubrey and smiled “I really was hoping we could get to know each other better.”

Even in his heightened state of anxiety Aubrey recognised he –or to be more precise his female persona-   had never been paid so much attention by a girl  and despite wearing a corset and petticoats he felt a frisson of excitement run through him. He felt his cheeks redden once more and saw a smile form at the corner of Roberta’s expressive mouth. Sarah saw it too.

“Come along Aubrey.” she said brusquely and tugged his arm sharply.

“Perhaps I can accompany you...” Roberta began to say before a voice from behind her called her name.

Two fashionably dressed ladies arrived with a swish of skirts and ignoring Aubrey and Sarah immediately engaged Roberta in conversation. Sarah quickly seized the opportunity to remove themselves from the company and as he was being shepherded away Aubrey could see Roberta trying to extract herself from her new companions but to no avail.

“You are even more of a girl that I thought.” Sarah said gruffly, her annoyance confirmed by her furrowed brow and the quickness of her walk. Aubrey remained silent.

“Yes.” Sarah continued, the irritation in her voice was clear, “you are quite the little coquette. Looking at her with your big doe eyes and fluttering your eyelashes. Don’t think I didn’t notice, the only thing you didn’t do was raise your skirts and show her your ankles.”

“I... but...”Aubrey protested but Sarah tugged his arm sharply and continued her reprimand.

“After all I have done for you, helped you with your appearance and taught you how to behave as a girl to ensure you would not be found out. And this is how you repay me! I should have left those two ladies discover your secret, I wonder what your new admirer would say if she knew you were a boy and a pathetic, spineless one at that. What type of male readily agrees to be put into a corset and petticoats?”

Aubrey’ immediate reaction was to protest, she knew very well he was forced into girl’s clothes but it was obvious from Sarah’s mood that any attempt to object would only exacerbate his problems and besides the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. He bit his tongue and remained silent as she continued to harangue him, holding firmly by the hand like a naughty child she pulled him along the pathway his skirts swishing around his legs. Aubrey felt weak and powerless in her grip. As they made their way through the park Sarah, to his extreme embarrassment not to mention dread, would occasionally stop within earshot of some ladies and berate Aubrey for some imaginary faux pas. This invited stares and smiles from the women and resulted in Aubrey apologising profusely and pleading with her to forgive him. Only when he was on the verge of tears and it looked like one of the women was about to interfere she considered he was punished enough and continued with their journey.

By the time they passed through the park’s gates and onto the adjoining street Aubrey was suitably chastised and once again firmly under Sarah’s thumb. Several hundred yards along the street Sarah stopped in front of an imposing townhouse.

“Mrs Cockshott’s house.” she said gesturing to the front door and added with a snigger “or I should say your new mistress’s home.”

The ordeal he had gone through in the park had pushed the purpose of his visit to Mrs Cockshott’s to the back of his mind. However now standing outside her house he was confronted with the dreadful reality that Mrs Cockshott seeing him dressed as a girl in Lady Charlotte’s bedroom had presumed him to be her very good friend’s lady’s maid and had cajoled her into ‘borrowing’ him on a temporary basis until she engaged her own staff.  Reluctantly Lady Charlotte had agreed but to ensure he would not be unmasked she had Sarah accompany him to make certain he behaved in an appropriately feminine manner as a well trained servant girl.

Several weeks of being forcibly dressed as a girl had quickly eroded his masculinity and with it his self confidence, he was now only a shell of the young man he was on that fateful day he entered Lady Charlotte’s home. He really didn’t think his situation could get any worse but now he was about to experience the life of a domestic servant and as he stood at the steps to the grand house where he was now to enter as a servant girl. He felt a wave of subjugation overwhelm him.

Two months ago I was a vigorous young man about town as masculine as you can get, frequenting bars, music halls as well as some of London’s less salubrious establishments he dejectedly said to himself now, not only am I dressed as a girl but I am meant to be maidservant, a lady’s maid to this dreadful woman. How could Lady Charlotte allow this to happen if only....

“I wonder if your new mistress is as considerate as Lady Charlotte.” Sarah voice interrupted his thoughts “some mistresses can be quite demanding of their maids. Of course girls who have spent their formative years in domestic service are familiar with the rigours of life as a maidservant but you...”

She looked at Aubrey, the expression on her face a mixture of contempt and smugness, before continuing,

“... you as a male have no idea what it means to be a girl never mind any understanding of what it is to be a servant, constantly being deferential and servile and at your mistress’s beck and call every minute.”

She paused to allow him to absorb this before adding with a sardonic smile,

“However I’m sure you will find it a very rewarding experience.”

Aubrey felt his heart sink. Born into wealth and privilege he had led a cosseted life surrounded by servants who waited on him hand and foot. This was the natural order of things in the same way women were inferior to men, servants were subservient to their social superiors. To enforce this social hierarchy it was necessary and to distinguish servants from their employers and servants were required to wear a uniform. In his mother’s house he had often eavesdropped on maids conversations and knew that they resented having to wear a uniform and especially disliked wearing their apron and cap, saying it made them look and feel completely servile. At the time he recalled thinking this was the point, after all servants were supposed to be servile and their uniform should reflect their status. He felt a shiver run down his spine and could not bring himself to even contemplate the notion of life or even a few hours as a maidservant.

When will this nightmare end he thought to himself.

 “Time to get you inside.” Sarah said, bringing him back to reality.

Resigned to the fact there was no escape he put his foot on the first step.

“And where do you think you are going?” Sarah said as he looked at her blankly.

“The front door is not for the likes of us.” she continued and gestured to the steps leading to the basement “You are a maid now and maids never use the front door. It’s the servants’ entrance for you, my girl.”

Sarah saw the look of wretchedness on the boy’s face and couldn’t help smiling. It was the same look he had every morning when she entered his bedroom, a look that conveyed his devastation at yet another day of utter mortification and ignominy.

Well today he is getting another helping of humble pie or maybe that should be humiliation pie she chuckled to herself as she watched him lift his skirts and descend the grey stone steps to the servants’ door. Even though she had observed a feminine sensibility envelop him over the previous weeks she still marvelled at how certain womanly traits had become ingrained in him in such a short time period.

Perhaps he doesn’t have the innate gracefulness or the natural elegant movement of a female and he is a little ungainly she thought as she followed him but he does seem to have certain feminine qualities just below the surface. I can’t quite put my finger on it, his individual features are definitely more male than female which is why those ladies were unsure of his true sex but somehow they combine and blend to project a form of an odd, unorthodox femininity. It is as if his female clothing is almost influencing his facial features, replacing the arrogant self- confidence of the male with a more passive, subdued feminine expression. Wearing female attire has certainly cured him of his arrogance so perhaps the softening, almost feminising of his facial expression is just an extension of this. Whatever the reason it is having a most beneficial effect on him.

Sarah knocked on the door and after a few moments a girl a little younger than Aubrey and dressed in a drab grey dress with a mob cap and grubby and stained  apron opened it.

“Mrs Cockshott is expecting us.” Sarah informed the girl.

“Who is it girl?” a gruff voice bellowed from within and the girl beckoned  Sarah to enter.

Standing at the large kitchen table surrounded by ceramic dishes and copper pots was a large red faced woman in a mob cap and a light blue dress her apron flecked with assorted bits of dough and cake mixture.

“You must be the new maid.” the cook barked at Sarah.

“No.”Sarah answered in an assured voice refusing to be intimidated and gestured to Aubrey “this is the new maid. I just accompanied her here.”

Aubrey visibly winced at his new title.

“The mistress is in the blue drawing room.” the cook growled and shouted at the kitchen maid “show them the way and don’t be seen by the mistress. Upstairs is not for the likes of you.”

Aubrey could see the intimidation on the face of the kitchen maid as the girl scurried towards the door he and Sarah followed her. The cook looked Aubrey up and down as he passed her.

“Madam always did have an eye for the pretty ones.” she chortled as she gave him a curious look.

Aubrey shivered as he quickly walked past her.

At the top of the back stairs the kitchen maid opened the door and pointed at another door across the spacious vestibule.

 As Sarah led the way across the polished black and white tiled floor Aubrey thought to himself how well he knew all the houses in this neighbourhood and how he had visited them many times for various social occasions, birthday parties, music recitals and those awful plays that the Ladies Drama Society insisted on performing. But he had never entered by the servants entrance nor had he been dressed as a girl...well except that one time or maybe the other time when....

“Here we are.”Sarah said cutting off his recollections of times past and began fussing with his hair and straightening his dress, she smiled sardonically “we want to make sure you create a good impression on your new mistress.”

“But she’ll know I’m not....”he whispered frantically, “female.”

“Of course she will. Just remember all that Miss Alice, Lady Charlotte and I have taught you.”Sarah answered quietly “remain calm and remember you’re a girl now. A servant girl.”

Aubrey looked at her and opened his mouth to give a half-hearted protest but she immediately cut him off,

“Say it!” Sarah snapped in a hushed tone “It’s for your own good.”

Aubrey hesitated, he desperately needed to keep a grip on his masculinity. Now she wanted him to admit to being a girl, how could he agree to this and still retain a claim on his maleness?

Sarah persisted, playing on his worst fears.

“If you are going to have any chance of convincing Mrs Cockshott and avoiding public exposure and humiliation you really need to believe it yourself. Do you really want your little secret to be discovered? To be exposed to public ridicule?”

He had no answer.

“I thought so. You’re only chance is to accept yourself as a girl. Once you consider yourself female it will be so much easier for you.”

Emphasising her point she fluffed out his skirts and adjusted his bodice, his eyes could not met hers.

“We don’t have much time.” she whispered urgently as she raised her hand to knock on the door “I can help you but you need to help yourself. Are you a boy or a girl??”

His brain was in turmoil, his heart racing and his knees weak from the events in the park not to mention the prospect of meeting Mrs Cockshott once more.

“A girl.” he said quietly, cringing at the words leaving his mouth.

Sarah looked at him with eyebrows arched and he knew she wanted more.

“A servant girl.” he added softly.

“That wasn’t so bad now was it?” she said and knocked on the door “ Mrs Cockshott is expecting a servant girl so remember to act and think like a maid at all times and you will have no problems.”

A voice called from with within and they entered the large drawing room.

Mrs Cockshott was standing at the mantelpiece in a pale green taffeta gown, her overskirt of figured silk elaborately draped at the back, her underskirt  of olive taffeta was ruched, trained and trimmed with pleated flounces. She looked regal and quite intimidating as she raised her eyes from a book to inspect the figures standing at the door.

“Ah! my new maid.” she said as her eyes fixed on Aubrey, ignoring Sarah. “well come closer girl.”

A feeling of panic grew inside him and his feet were rooted to the floor, Sarah had to take his hand and lead him to the imposing female figure.

“Such a timid little creature.” she said as Sarah positioned him in front of her “A little closer,   I won’t bite you. What is your name again?”

“Aubrey.” he answered, lowering his eyes

“Madam.” Mrs Cockshott said quietly but very firmly.

The restrained but authoritative tone in her voice was one he had heard his mother and many ladies of similar social standing use to their maids, it was employed to establish boundaries between mistress and maid. It never failed to have effect and immediately reminded him of his new position as her servant. He was quite close to her now and she showed no signs of suspecting his true sex, Sarah’s words suddenly materialised in his brain ‘act and think like a maid’.

“Yes Madam.” he said meekly “I’m sorry Madam.”

“Mmm, I see you really are lacking in the basic formalities of domestic service.” she said as she walked the short distance to the blue damask couch and gracefully arranged her bustle before lowering herself onto the seat.

Aubrey looked at her blankly, Sarah was behind him and could not help.

“I see what Lady Charlotte meant when she said you were untrained.” she sighed a note of mild exasperation in her voice before explaining as if to a five year old as her eyes examined his face“ I can see why she took an interest in you, an  ingénue perhaps, slightly gauche and such curious features for a girl.”

She stood back and continued, her voice now a little more assertive,

“Maids are required to curtsy to their mistresses. It makes me wonder where exactly did Lady Charlotte find you.”

Aubrey cursed himself for such basic mistake, the last thing he wanted was to answer awkward questions. He felt a surge of panic, Sarah’s words returned once more.

What would a girl new to domestic service say to her new mistress?

Any humiliation he felt at taking on the persona of a maid was quickly overcome by the fear of further probing by Mrs Cockshott.

“I’m sorry Madam” he blurted and taking his skirts in his hands dropped a respectful curtsy   “I’m a little nervous, apart from Lady Charlotte I’m not used to meeting ladies of  high social standing.”

His curtsy and explanation seemed to mollify Mrs Cockshott and her face softened.

“Quite understandable I suppose. As I told your mistress I will need a maid on a temporary basis until I employ my own servants. You will attend me as a lady’s maid and there will be other household duties. You can begin by unpacking the rest of my luggage.”

Having concluded the interview Mrs Cockshott walked towards the door and waited for Sarah to open it acknowledging her with a nod of her head she swept past her into the hall and crossed the expansive hall to the wide staircase. As he hurried after her he felt a sense of relief that he had survived his initial audience with this overwhelming woman and realised that apart from a reference to his unusual features she had not appeared to suspect anything dubious about her new maid.

Sarah just behind him smiled as she watched him expertly and without hesitation gather his skirts in both hands and lift them just above his ankles as he followed Mrs Cockshott up the stairs.

The physical aspect of wearing ladies clothes is becoming natural to him Sarah said to herself I wonder how long it will take for his psychological state to assimilate his feminine side.

Mrs Cockshott stopped outside her bedroom door and nodded at Aubrey who instinctively knew he was required to open it. The room itself was beautifully decorated dominated by the large pale green satin covered bed with comfortable chairs positioned around the room the gentle scent of freshly cut flowers wafted throughout the room. Aubrey followed her through another door to her dressing room which was almost as large and had a vast closet where he noticed gowns hung on rails with several travel trunks stacked along one wall.

“As you can see my luggage has just arrived.” Mrs Cockshott said as she retrieved a set of keys from the Queen Anne dressing table and proceeded to the line of trunks and opening one of them took out a gown of grey silk faille and held it up to her. “Quite beautiful don’t you think?”

“Yes Madam.” Aubrey answered, not forgetting to bob a curtsy.

“You will unpack these trunks and hang the various gowns in their designated areas.” she instructed indicating the various sections of the closet. “Morning gowns here, walking dresses there, afternoon gowns in this section and so on. Do you understand?”

“Yes Madam.” he replied.

“And ensure you treat them carefully, I do not want to see any stains, tears or damage of any sort.” she instructed.

“Yes Madam.” he repeated.

“Excuse me Madam, may I have a word?” Sarah’s voice called from the doorway, she curtsied as Mrs Cockshott passed her and stopped to look back at Aubrey who stood there with a confused look on his face.

“Well, get on with it girl.” she said brusquely handing him the keys and turned to return to the bedroom with Sarah.

Left alone Aubrey felt a sigh of relief and decided he had better begin his task just in case Mrs Cockshott returned to reprimand him. As he opened the first trunk and took out a delicate blue green silk velvet gown with deep pleats and a large bustle he caught sight of himself in the dressing room mirror. A sudden feeling of despair engulfed him as he saw a reflection not of a manly, red blooded male but a tightly corseted feminine figure in a voluminous navy silk gown. Despite being confined to such clothing for months the one thing he disliked intensely was seeing his reflection, something he was forced to do several times daily in Lady Charlotte’s home to remind him of his new role. This always reinforced his powerlessness at the hands of the women who now controlled him. He sighed and mentally added Mrs Cockshott to this seemingly ever growing list.

“A change of plan I’m afraid.” Mrs Cockshott’s voice rang out from the doorway of the dressing room “Come here girl.”

 Aubrey carefully laid down the dress he was holding and moved into the bedroom where he noticed Sarah busying herself at the bed.

“It appears my daughter has arrived home unexpectedly with several of her friends.” Mrs Cockshott addressed Aubrey “Cook is preparing refreshments.”

Aubrey looked at her blankly, she returned his look with one of exasperation and little patience.

“Who do you think will serve tea?” she sighed in a slightly irritated voice and did not expect or wait for an answer before continuing “obviously you cannot serve tea dressed like that. I have had your friend here retrieve a suitable parlourmaid’s uniform from one of the maid’s rooms. We have little time, get undressed and into your new uniform.”

“I..ah…” he stammered  but Sarah was already behind him unbuttoning his dress.

“Not the time to argue.” she whispered sharply into his ear.

“But...” he continued to object.

“Remember what I told you, think like a maid, act like a maid.”Sarah quietly but firmly reprimanded him as she continued to undo the buttons and before he could mount any further protest she had pulled his arms from the dress and was tugging it over his hips.

“What pretty petticoats and corset.” Mrs Cockshott said as she held the material in her hand “a present from your mistress no doubt.”

Aubrey nodded and was grateful for the full chemise under his corset which covered his false bosom. Sarah wasted little time and took the dark grey, almost black dress from the bed placed it over his head and quickly buttoned the back, she then produced a full white pinafore apron and in a matter of moments she was trying a large bow at his back. Before he knew it she had placed a white frilled cap on his head and held it in place with pins.

“Excellent. Your cap covers that short hair of yours and thankfully makes you look a little more feminine.” Mrs Cockshott trilled her approval and walked around him making minor adjustments to the dress and apron “I believe a servant’s appearance reflects on her mistress, a maid who is dressed in a drab or dowdy uniform may indicate a similar dull fashion sense in her mistress. However an elegant and stylish mistress will invariably dress her maids in the most charming uniforms.”

Aubrey’s face reflected his disenchantment with his new choice of clothing. It did not go unnoticed by Mrs Cockshott.

“Yes, I know you are being trained as a lady’s maid and did not expect to have to perform a parlourmaid’s duties but I’m sure your mistress would not object.” she said “In fact, knowing Lady Charlotte as well as I do she would be annoyed if you did not carry out my wishes with enthusiasm and a smile on your face.”

He knew she was correct and quickly decided it was best to avoid any disagreement.

Sarah’s advice rang in his ears once more.

Behave like a servant.

“Yes Madam, of course Madam.” he answered meekly and smiled apologetically and curtsied.

“Much better.” Mrs Cockshott said, responding to his subservient attitude in a softer voice “I’m sure you understand I really cannot have a maid serve my guests without being properly uniformed in a cap and apron.”

“Yes Madam.” he replied with another curtsy.

Mrs Cockshott then turned her attention to Sarah.

“Tell my daughter I will join her and her guests shortly for tea but I need to change before I do so.” 

Once alone she made for her dressing room and selected a midnight blue silk gown with black Brussels lace sleeves, the gold satin pleats at the hem also covered in black lace she handed it to Aubrey and returned to the bedroom.

“Well don’t just stand there girl.” she said “Undress me.”

Since his entrapment at Lady Charlotte’s home Aubrey had been dressed and undressed by maids every day and knew exactly what was required. He laid the gown carefully on the bed and moved quickly to unbutton her dress, he surprised himself at how efficiently he performed the task and was soon on his knees gently tugging the heavy fabric down her torso and over her petticoats. She waited for Mrs Cockshott to step from the crumpled gown before laying it neatly on the bed.

“Lady Charlotte seems to have trained you well.” she said as he opened the gown and laid it out on the floor allowing her to step into it and he pulled it up over her petticoats before buttoning it at the neck.

She walked to the full length mirror and adjusted her sleeves and skirt.

“Yes, this will do.” she said admiring herself in the mirror but from the corner of her eye she observed him closely.

“I think I could feminise you reasonably quickly.” she said almost absentmindedly as she inspected her bustle.

Aubrey felt his heart skip a beat.

Oh no...no...she has finally seen through me.  he screamed inside, he could sense the blood drain from his face and such was his fright he was unsure if he had said this out loud.

“You may think your demeanour is genuinely feminine but I think we both know this is not the case.” she continued, in the mirror her eyes met his.

It took all his strength to keep his legs from buckling.

“I think even you will admit you are somewhat gauche, ungainly.” Mrs Cockshott continued “and your boyish looks while no doubt attractive, can at times can create a most unwelcome masculine aspect to your visage. You could easily be taken for a real boy. In fact I could not make up my mind as to your sex when I first saw you.”

He held on to the chair next to him to steady himself.

“I... It’s not...”he babbled.

“Of course it’s not your fault.” she said ignoring incoherent his gibbering and turning from the mirror continued “You have probably associated with males far too much, imitating their behaviour and picking up their dreadful mannerisms.”

She smiled benevolently and caught both his hands in hers.

“But do not worry.” she said enthusiastically as she gripped his hands even tighter “I can help you embrace your true feminine self, rid yourself of those ghastly male inclinations. You do want this, don’t you?”

Aubrey, immediately realising he had just escaped exposure instinctively knew how he should respond.

“Oh yes Madam.” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Wonderful.” Mrs Cockshott replied and taken in by his lie a broad smile crossed her face. “We can commence your training later but first I have to meet my daughter and her friends. Now run along and begin serving them tea, I will be there shortly.”

Aubrey’s heart was still racing as he descended the stairs and in his anxious state he forgot to lift his skirts and almost tripped.

Why do women have to wear such voluminous clothing? he said to himself in a bitter voice.

He concluded that this was a timely reminder of Mrs Cockshott’s appraisal of his lack of a truly feminine gracefulness, he cursed himself for not being more careful in disguising his masculine traits.  

“It’s about time.” Sarah greeted him brusquely as he reached the bottom of the stairs and pointed to the ornate tea trolley laden with a sliver tea service and delicate pale blue Wedgewood china.

Sarah was about to berate him when Mrs Cockshott came into view descending the stairs in the most graceful fashion like all ladies of good breeding. Aubrey could not help compare her elegance with his own clumsy attempt.

“Time for tea I think.” she said, Sarah opened the door and Mrs Cockshott swept into the drawing room followed by her new parlourmaid.

Aubrey heard the door close behind him, the room was filled with the smell of expensive perfume and chatter of perhaps a dozen female voices. He became extremely nervous as he followed Mrs Cockshott through the throng of silk, taffeta, velvet and satin and afraid to raise his eyes from her trailing gown.

“Leave the tea here and go stand by the window until I summon you.” she instructed.

He had witnessed such gatherings since he was a child and knew exactly what was required of a parlourmaid.

“Yes Madam.” he answered and curtsied and immediately saw Mrs Cockshott’s smile of approval.

After making his way to the window he plucked up the courage to raise his eyes and scan the room. Several ladies were seated on comfortable couches and large armchairs while others congregated in small groups around the room. Although no one seemed to even notice him his anxiety increased even further as he saw mingled in these clusters of ladies were a number of smartly dressed male figures. He had almost calmed himself when Mrs Cockshott who was seated on a couch beckoned him to approach. Now extremely mindful of the need to act in a more girlish manner, he minced in a most feminine gait across the room and careful to avoid the eye contact of the males.   

“We require more tea Aubrey.” she said as he stood in front of her and before he had time to answer a voice came from behind him.

“Aubrey, did I hear you call her Aubrey.” the voice said and its owner suddenly appeared from behind him.

“What a wonderful surprise.” the voice trilled.

Aubrey felt his stomach tighten.

“Mister Robert.” he said and curtsied.

“You know my daughter?” Mrs Cockshott said.

“Daughter?” Aubrey blurted.

“Yes. You silly girl. My daughter.” Mrs Cockshott said eyeing her daughter’s male garb with some distaste.

Mrs Cockshott looked mildly confused.

Roberta looked extremely pleased with herself.

Aubrey looked deathly pale.

 “You won’t be able to run away as easily this time.” Roberta said.