Concept date: 3rd September, 2018
First published: 19th July, 2020.Status: COMPLETED.
Version: EXTENDED.
Age recommendation: 15+
Average Reading Time: Approximately 45 Minutes.
Average Reading Time: Approximately 45 Minutes.
Revisions: 7. [Last Edit: November 2020]
Angel-in-charge: Margret Team Assigned: Team 74
Angel-in-charge: Margret Team Assigned: Team 74
Human Time: 1981AD-1401AH Mission: 781222 - 5 - 0909
MISSION SUMMARY: "On a wet afternoon in East London, workmen are clearing the basement rooms of a large Victorian Villa; the old house will become a private rest home for affluent pensioners. But they discover two small skeletons in shallow graves and all work is halted whilst the local police investigate. Stories and tales about the 'French House' - particularly about its owner of a hundred years ago, make Jericho travel back to the 1880's in search of lost souls."
NOTES: This episode contains strong sexual references and graphic descriptions of sexual assaults.
"This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental." The Author.
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| 45 Min. |
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| Book Series 4. |
"SIR EDWARD COLEVILLE'S FRENCH HOUSE."
1. THE CELLARS.
Doctor Ben Roberts was sweating - badly - because of the portable lights and the heat they generated in this small space. He stood up and stretched and began to scribble notes into his little red notebook. Inspector Thomas March sighed and wiped his face, he glanced at Sergeant Dave Soames and rolled his eyes in mock despair. "When your ready doc." He muttered and stared at the two newly exposed small skeletons. "Do I need to summon CID and forensics' for this one?" He added, wiping his face again with his gaudy red hankie.
The doctor looked around and almost smiled; "No Tom, these little bones have been in the ground for at least a hundred years. But i will confirm that with some tests, when they're at the morgue. I can see no signs of physical violence, but I'll know more when Lloyd James [the local pathologist] has taken a look." He snapped his note book shut and picked up his old leather bag, that he always carried and headed for the ladder. "You can get them moved now." He added, and climbed up, into the relative cool of the kitchens above.
The Inspector pushed a fresh stick of chewing gum into his mouth and tapped his sergeants arm; "Come on Dave, there's no mileage in this. Even if they were done in, there's certainly no suspects to arrest, everyone who actually knew who they were, are long dead - along with any killer. Let's get them moved." He gripped the ladder and ascended to the kitchens; the sergeant following closely behind. There were several other uniformed police officers in the spacious kitchen area and also several workman from the builders, who were refurbishing the big old London villa called the 'French House'.
Dave brushed some dust from his uniform jacket and told a nearby PC to inform the station; to contact the local morgue and get the bones moved there. "I can't see this getting the bloody royal wedding off the front pages." He spoke quietly to his old friend and colleague PC Paul Marshal, who nodded; "Yeah, that would take a bloody nuclear war or something similar." They both chuckled and followed the Inspector out into the gardens. They gathered under a large oak tree, out of the persistent drizzle. Dave and Paul lit up cigarettes, whilst the Inspector wrote in his note book.
They watched as Doctor Benjamin 'Ben' Roberts pulled away in his brand new Metro . Paul chuckled; "You know that Lady Di has one just like it. Not that she'll be doing much driving, once she marries Chas." Dave smoked slowly and nodded, He was glad to be out the cellars; something down there gave him the creeps and it wasn't just the two pathetic small skeletons, lying in the dirt. "Your from around these parts, any strange and creepy tales about this place?" He asked Paul, who shrugged his shoulders and flicked his ash onto the wet grass.
"Born just five streets away. My old gran could tell you about this place alright. But she passed away six years ago. Nan always said that the original owner; a certain Lord Coleville was a strange, eccentric young man. Rich as shit apparently. He had the house built to resemble a Paris Villa, but that's not why the local's called it the 'French House' - they knew fuck all about Paris Villa's or what they looked like - the house got the name because of the bloody house maids." Paul finished his cigarette and tossed the butt away.
Dave was now intrigued and interested; "How do you mean, because of the house maids?" He asked, finishing his cigarette and stamping slowly on the butt. Paul smiled; "Apparently the rich young sod liked women. He paid his house maids a really good wage to dress like proper French maids. You know, little black skirts, stockings and frilly pants. Rumour has it, they served his meals topless; an invitation to one of his dinner parties was really sought after!"
Paul leaned against the big tree and smiled; "Apparently it was quite a scandal in its day. But the dirty sod had lots of powerful friends, even a couple of bloody government ministers came for dinners. Girls were always trying to get work there because he paid good wages. You imagine, if they worked sixty hours in a bloody east end sweatshop, they would earn about two quid. My Nan said girls were making twice that doing just a little housework and parading around in their outfits for him and his guests. There were no shortage of girls willing to do that kind of work for that sort of money."
"Dirty lucky bastard." Muttered Dave and watched the black, private ambulance arrive at the gates; from the local undertakers. He stared back at the dark, brooding old house and thought about the two little skeletons, laying in the dirt, forgotten for over a hundred years, and now no one would give a toss about what had happened to them. He scratched his chin, well, maybe a local historian or reporter would be interested in their untold story.
He would make a few telephone calls, when he got back to the nick. The two dour faced undertakers were walking up the path, carrying black holdalls. "Oh, its fucking Laurel and Hardy from old man's Shubert's corpse parlour." Paul muttered and straightened his jacket, putting his cap back on. "Show them where to go." Inspector March said to him and walked down the gravel path to his car. Dave slapped Paul on the back; "Leave it up to you then, mate." And followed his Inspector down the same path.
"That Inspector is a real strange character and no mistake about that." Paul muttered to himself. No bloody friends at the nick and kept his own counsel. Yep, a real strange one. Paul gestured to the two undertakers to follow him and stared up at the old house. His nan had always said that something sinister, something really evil went on in there and the authorities did nothing. Young Lord Coleville had really powerful friends and his family had money, power and position. Then, of course, there was the mystery of the vanishing lady in white and the dreadful death of of Sir Edward's valet. Now that scandal, did bring the fun and games, at the French House to an apparent stop. It was rumoured that Sir Edward had to flee the country, ending up France and apparently, dying just before the First World War; still in disgrace and exile.
"That Inspector is a real strange character and no mistake about that." Paul muttered to himself. No bloody friends at the nick and kept his own counsel. Yep, a real strange one. Paul gestured to the two undertakers to follow him and stared up at the old house. His nan had always said that something sinister, something really evil went on in there and the authorities did nothing. Young Lord Coleville had really powerful friends and his family had money, power and position. Then, of course, there was the mystery of the vanishing lady in white and the dreadful death of of Sir Edward's valet. Now that scandal, did bring the fun and games, at the French House to an apparent stop. It was rumoured that Sir Edward had to flee the country, ending up France and apparently, dying just before the First World War; still in disgrace and exile.
"Pity my inept colleagues back there, hadn't discovered the little bodies then, the dirty bastard may have been brought to justice." He muttered to himself, showing the undertakers the neat hole made in the floor. The original entrance and stair case to the cellars had been closed up years ago. The Architect, designing the old people's home had decided on a new opening and placement of boilers in the cellars. That simple decision had revealed the tragedy of the bones, hidden away for years.
He watched the pair descend down into the cellar and squatted down to watch. Suddenly he felt the hair go up on his neck and he actually shivered a little, as they were carefully placing the bones from each skeleton into a separate holdall. He stood up and took a deep breath, he had seen plenty of dead bodies - most a lot worse than this pair - so why the strange, uneasy feeling?
The old workman standing next to him; filling his small pipe, smiled; "You felt it too?" He whispered and placed the unlit pipe in his mouth. Paul nodded and folded his arms. The old man gestured towards the ceiling. "Me and little 'arry were clearing up the bedrooms and we felt it there too. I would swear on my grand kids life, that I could hear people talking above us; up in the bloody attic's. To be honest, it sounded like children. So we went up there and nobody was there, just dust and cobwebs. But 'arry found a sketch book behind the wall cabinet, when we pulled it down - rotten it was, the cabinet I mean - but you want to see the bloody sketches. just tell 'arry I said so. especially the one of the maid."
He turned and walked into the gardens; to enjoy his pipe. Paul soon found young Harry, sitting on a box in one of the big reception rooms. He told him what the old man had said; that he should have a look at the sketch book. Harry, sighed and carefully pulled the faded A4 book from his lunch bag. Paul carefully and gently turned the pages; all young girls and women, mostly naked and posing on furniture. The unknown artist clearly had real talent. Then he saw the one with the French maid, standing by a dinner table, holding a small tray of drinks in one hand. She was topless and almost smiling. She was really beautiful. Paul imagined that the woman must have been quite a stunner in her day.
Harry smiled; "Bet your looking at the tart in the maids outfit. I would love to have been there, when the lucky artist drew that. She was a fucking cracker." He carefully took the fragile book and placed it back into his bag, adding; "I'm going to photocopy that one and then see; if any antique shop wants the book. The drawings are real good, they must be worth a few quid."
Paul nodded, the sketch of the maid had been dated July 29th 1881. That made him smile; that's exactly a hundred years ago to the day, to the forthcoming royal wedding. He made his way back downstairs and watched the undertaker's van leave. He would head back to the nick; for a very welcome cup of tea.
2. WOULD YOU CALL IT A CO-INCIDENCE?
The old workman standing next to him; filling his small pipe, smiled; "You felt it too?" He whispered and placed the unlit pipe in his mouth. Paul nodded and folded his arms. The old man gestured towards the ceiling. "Me and little 'arry were clearing up the bedrooms and we felt it there too. I would swear on my grand kids life, that I could hear people talking above us; up in the bloody attic's. To be honest, it sounded like children. So we went up there and nobody was there, just dust and cobwebs. But 'arry found a sketch book behind the wall cabinet, when we pulled it down - rotten it was, the cabinet I mean - but you want to see the bloody sketches. just tell 'arry I said so. especially the one of the maid."
He turned and walked into the gardens; to enjoy his pipe. Paul soon found young Harry, sitting on a box in one of the big reception rooms. He told him what the old man had said; that he should have a look at the sketch book. Harry, sighed and carefully pulled the faded A4 book from his lunch bag. Paul carefully and gently turned the pages; all young girls and women, mostly naked and posing on furniture. The unknown artist clearly had real talent. Then he saw the one with the French maid, standing by a dinner table, holding a small tray of drinks in one hand. She was topless and almost smiling. She was really beautiful. Paul imagined that the woman must have been quite a stunner in her day.
Harry smiled; "Bet your looking at the tart in the maids outfit. I would love to have been there, when the lucky artist drew that. She was a fucking cracker." He carefully took the fragile book and placed it back into his bag, adding; "I'm going to photocopy that one and then see; if any antique shop wants the book. The drawings are real good, they must be worth a few quid."
Paul nodded, the sketch of the maid had been dated July 29th 1881. That made him smile; that's exactly a hundred years ago to the day, to the forthcoming royal wedding. He made his way back downstairs and watched the undertaker's van leave. He would head back to the nick; for a very welcome cup of tea.
2. WOULD YOU CALL IT A CO-INCIDENCE?
Eric Smalls stood over the hole and stared down into the cellars. He was a little annoyed, but the Project Manager had said that the company would co-operate with the local newspaper and historical society over the two skeletons. Thus he was waiting for their arrival. He looked out the window and watched the rain coming down. It wouldn't be dark for another couple of hours, then it was home for the evening news and some dinner with the missus and kids. He heard the loud knocking and made his way to the temporary front door and pulled it open.
The little group wandered slowly in and stood, looking around the grand hallway. The very well dressed young man introduced himself to Eric with a handshake. "Jerry Tibbs, from the Evening Standard. I spoke to inspector March on the 'phone and he said it was fine to check out the cellars. I understand that your boss; Mr. Jarvis has cleared it with your good self?" Eric nodded and stared at the others; Christ, that was the biggest black fella he had seen in a lifetime. The boy gripping his notepad looked a little dumb, but the young woman was a stunner. 'Jerry Tibbs' introduced his team; Mr. Wilson was a colleague from the paper and would take a few pictures. Wilson held up his expensive camera and flash. He smiled; "Have camera will snap." Mr. Owen Jones was part of the local Historical Society and assisted Miss Alexandra Cappanni, who was from the same group.
Eric just nodded and kept staring at Alex, finally he had to ask; "Does your family come from around here?" Alex smiled and nodded; "Well, from the East End. Whitechapel, my father and brother are doctors, but the family has been around here since the 1850's. Why do you ask?" Eric rubbed his face and smiled a little; "Well, because I looked at your double earlier to day. If the sketch wasn't over a hundred years old, I would have sworn blind that he sketched you." It appears that young 'arry had shown the sketch book to more than just PC Marshall and his old friend; Stan. Such was the demand for the old drawing, 'arry had to make several photocopies for his colleagues!
Alex smiled and shrugged her shoulders; "Now you have intrigued me Eric. I must see it." Eric walked over to his bag and pulled the photocopy out. He held it up; "It's only black and white. The photocopy machine didn't do colour. But you'll see what I mean. It is a bit naughty miss." He handed it over with a small smile. He couldn't wait to tell the other lads that he had met the bloody model in the flesh; well, a really close look-a-like. The team gathered about and Owen whistled through his teeth; "Christ Alex, it is you. I would recognise those magnificent bres..." Wilson slowly crushing his foot, stopped Owen in mid sentence and he fell silent; wincing a little. Alex nodded, clearly a little perplexed to be looking at her reflection. "My, my, the face does seem pretty similar."
Eric chuckled; "Not similar young lady; blooming identical I would say. If that wasn't drawn exactly a hundred years ago. I would swear that it was you!" Jericho stared at the picture and noted the date; that could prove quite useful. Wilson causally took a snap of the sketch and smiled. Jericho coughed; "The artist was certainly talented, he caught all the young lady's obvious charms."
That made Owen look again; real hard. He smiled, when he realised what Jericho was saying; the artist had drawn the lace panties as being quite transparent. Rather unusually, the model was shaved for that era. Jericho certainly noted that and smiled at Alex; she really would go the extra mile to get a case solved. He now, knew how to crack the mystery of the French House. They had done it before!
Eric took the picture back and gestured towards the kitchens; "There's a hole in the floor that goes down to the cellars. The original door and staircase down was apparently bricked up years ago. The cellars will hold the boilers for the new, old people's home." They followed him into the quiet kitchens and stared down the hole. Eric pulled a switch down and the cellars were lit up. "Be careful going down the ladder." He muttered and Jericho descended first, Alex was next and Eric smiled; now that's my kind of women; doesn't bat an eyelid about going down a ladder in a short skirt. That fucker 'Jerry' must be getting an eyeful. Lucky bastard.
Owen and Wilson followed them down and Eric returned to his bag, he still had some coffee left in his flask. He pulled the photocopy back out and looked at it closely; if he wasn't a sane man, then that young woman down the cellar was the girl in the picture! He looked at the date on the drawing and shook his head. It must be an ancestor of the young woman, there could be no other logical explanation for it. He unscrewed his flask and poured some lukewarm coffee into the lid that served as a cup. Suddenly a cold shiver ran up his spine, so bad that he dropped a little coffee on the floor. He stared about the quiet rooms and sighed; this fucking place was starting to get to even him.
Wilson took a picture of the broken staircase that ended against a solid brick wall and noted that the cellar had been divided up, at some point in the past. He could still see the remains of the brick wall on the floor, despite the dirt and dust. Owen stood watching the hole in case Eric returned unannounced. Jericho pulled his orb from a pocket in his jacket and held it up. Nothing coloured its circumference. "No demonic activity." He said quietly and pulled out his mirror, replacing the orb carefully.
Alex sighed; "They've removed the bones. Now we have to attend the bloody morgue to run our mirrors over them and discover who they were." Jericho nodded; "No collector has attended this place [the cellars] at any time. So what the hell happened to their souls?"
Wilson grunted; "Bit of a co-incidence that Alex is dressed up as one of the maids here, back in 1881. That means we've been here before; so why don't we have any recollection of it?" Jericho smiled; "That's because we haven't gone back yet. Well, not 'Us' as we are now. But at sometime we do. That sketch of Alex proves that. Rather unusually, we're already part of this. For instance; there's a picture of me - in the background - back in 1916 at an Army field hospital. I nearly fell off my seat, when I saw it in a book about the medical service of the First World War. I was researching the time and place for a mission back there. It happened, when we investigated that doctor who was saving lives with a machine he had invented. I had become part of the history for that event, so it does happen." [See episode: 'Doctor Alexander Harris and his battle with God.']
Alex sighed; "So, yet again, I'm dressed as a tart. This time showing off my crotch and boobs for some dirty, young Victorian pervert." Owen grinned; "I cannot wait to see you in that outfit; in the flesh. Much better that just a damn drawing." Alex slapped his arm hard and said nothing more. He got the message that Alex wasn't happy and started to read his mirror. "Heads up people, Herbie [the Collector] has just informed control that, he has just collected a soul from this very location. He's a real good man; he knew we're on a case here. I really don't know why he doesn't join the Department." Jericho rubbed his face; "What are the details?"
"He has just collected a certain Miss Jessica Rowling's soul. She died at 22 years old with Type 1 diabetes in the year 1881, in April. She was a maid. Here's the really interesting part; she confessed to Herbie that she was a naughty French maid for her master, a certain Sir Edward Coleville. Apparently he paid for doctors and had her nursed until she died. She's singing his praises as a very good man - for the time - he simply didn't abandon her, when she became too ill to work. That doesn't sound like the man as current history records him." Owen shrugged his shoulders, adding; "Strange that. She also said, that he never laid a hand on her or the other girls who were naughty maids here. Now that doesn't make sense."
Wilson looked about the dismal little cellars and sighed; "Well, someone buried two young children down here for some reason. Maybe our Sir Edward only liked really young girls or boys.. Any girl or boy over nine or ten was safe." Alex shuddered at that thought and pushed her fingers through her loose dark hair. "Sonner we run our mirrors over those bones; the better." Jericho nodded at that and gestured towards the ladder; "Let's go. I'll make arrangements to see the bones." They followed him up the ladder; Alex going last. She stopped half way up and and looked about the cellar, yet again.
"What is it?" Wilson asked, holding out his hand. Alex didn't smile; "I just thought - for a second or so - that I could hear a child talking. Saying something about his missing mother. I don't know; I can't be sure." She continued up the ladder and Wilson helped her out the hole. Everyone stared back down into the cellar and jumped a little, as Eric appeared and switched off the lights down there. "Your not the only one who has heard the kids voices around this dump Miss. Old Stan and young Harry Fellows swear they heard kids voices up in the attic's. That's where Harry found the sketch book with your drawing in." He smiled a little. Alex brushed down her jacket and skirt, muttering; "You mean my double." Eric nodded and showed the team out.
The team stood on the pavement and stared at the old house in the persistent drizzle. Alex put up her umbrella and walked towards their white van. That's when PC Paul Marshal appeared from his 'Panda' car, throwing his unfinished cigarette down. He stared really hard at Alex, but spoke to Jericho; "You Jerry Tibbs the reporter?" He asked, pulling on his short rain coat. Jericho nodded and PC Marshal gestured to his police car; "My Inspector wants to see you Sir, down the station." Wilson interrupted; "We can follow you there in our van officer." Paul nodded and jumped back in his car. "Now what?" Owen asked and the team clambered into their van and followed the police car to Brick Lane Police Station.
3. OTHER STORIES ABOUT THE FRENCH HOUSE.
"It's certainly changed some since I was last here." Jericho said quietly to Alex. They were waiting outside Inspector March's office. "They must have just kept the façade. This is all new." He muttered and started to stand as the door to he Inspectors office opened. Inspector Thomas March was a big man. Owen pointed out that he had hands 'like shovels'. He smiled at Jericho and especially Alex, who stood next to him. He actually looked Alex up and down; slowly. Alex glanced at the floor; she knew very well, that he was undressing her with his eyes. Jericho introduced the team and the Inspector invited him and Alex into his office.
"Charming." Was all Owen said, as he and Wilson sat back down and waited outside. Wilson chuckled; "We can't compete with Alex when there are other men around. She'll get the invitation every time, baby brother." He sat and stared down the bare corridor, then grinned. A tall policeman smiled at him - who was another 'brother' [as Wilson would say]- the pair shook hands and the tall officer dropped onto the bench next to them. "You part of the group having a look at the bones from the old 'French House'?" He asked and Wilson nodded.
The tall officer chuckled; "You want to have a look at the station's Occurrence Book's about the calls that were made to that place, back in the 1880's. That'll give you a story alright." His radio bleeped and his number was being called. Constable 466H answered, apologised and walked off; he had a call to attend to.
Owen smiled; "Occurrence Books had summaries about all incidents that took place on the station's patch. If the police were called to the place [the French House] then, there would be a record of it written up in them." Wilson ran a hand over his face; "Now that could be a real source of information. But how do we get to see them?" Owen sighed and tapped his jacket pocket; "That's what we have mirrors for big man." Wilson grunted and slapped Owen's shoulder, murmuring; "Spot on baby brother. I wondered when you would spot that." Owen just rolled his eyes in mock despair and stood slowly, as the Inspector's door opened.
The team sat quietly in the van and watched the people and police officers, coming and going, from Brick Lane Police Station. Wilson sat behind the wheel and stared up at the falling rain. He turned to Jericho, who was sitting next to him, and said quietly; "So the bloody bones are about seven thousand years old and the two kids were from the bloody stone-age?" Jericho nodded and eased back in his seat; "They must have been buried there, thousands of years ago. I'm waiting for Dispatches to pull up the details. A collector would have attended way back then. They must have only been disturbed with the current work at the house. How the builders of the damn house missed them back in 1878 [when the house was constructed], I don't know."
"So we don't really have a mission. If the kid's bones are that old, Sir Edward clearly had nothing to do with them; except they were buried in his cellar thousands of years before he or his cellars ever existed!" Alex spoke softly, resting her chin on her hand, watching out the windows. Jericho shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms; "Yes, but that is definitely you in that drawing from 1881, so we were definitely on the case there, at that time; unless your moonlighting as a naughty French maid in another time period." He smiled, adding; "But why the hell are we there, now the bones have been cleared up?"
Owen looked up from his mirror and grinned; "That young officer was right Wilson. There is certainly a story about the old French House that would interest us and it's in the Occurrence Book for Brick Lane Station in 1881. There's an entry about police being called to the house because Sir Edward Coleville's young bride had vanished, minutes after arriving back from church. She just vanished from a locked room with several people standing outside. The only window was nailed down and the glass wasn't broken. There was no explanation possible for her disappearance. The police practically took the room apart looking for trap doors, secret openings etc. and found nothing. The young bride was never seen or heard of again."
Wilson shifted in his seat; "Sounds good, but was a human soul reported as disappearing from the time line, at the time?" Owen shook his head; "There's no breaches of the time line for that date and time. She was no time traveller, so where the hell did she go?" Wilson shrugged his shoulders; he didn't know.
Owen continued; "Not five weeks after his bride disappeared, Sir Edward's Valet, a certain Michael Good was found at the bottom of the stairs with his neck broken and five stab wounds. He told the collector, that Sir Edward had stabbed him repeatedly and thrown him down the stairs. He actually didn't say why Sir Edward did that. Now that's a bit strange. But Michael's soul was placed in quarantine for one hundred years, so the Duty Death Angel [Francis at the time] thought he deserved it for something he did."
"Was Sir Edward arrested or charged with the killing?" Jericho asked and Owen shook his head; "No he wasn't. He claimed that Michael was killed by a burglar, that he had apparently disturbed and with his power and position, that was that." Alex sighed and stretched her long legs out. "What happened to Sir Edward's soul, when he died. If had murdered someone, then he would have done time in quarantine too?"
Owen tapped at his mirror and sat up straight; "Sweet fanny Adam's! His soul is listed as missing!" He read on and and held his mirror up; "According to Human Records and Dispatches, Sir Edward Coleville has never died. He missed his dispatch date in 1914. He didn't show up. Inspector Stella Longstreet and Team 35 have been assigned the case; there's no resolution yet."
"Well those bones have - unintentionally - opened a real tin of worms here." Jericho said and consulted his mirror, turning to Owen and smiling; "By the way, that was an excellent little piece of research Owen. Well done." Owen grinned broadly and rewarded himself, by staring at Alex's long legs stretched out next to him. She just slapped his arm and pulled the hem of her short skirt down a little. "Bloody monastery." was all she muttered.
Wilson turned around in his seat and was about to speak to Alex, when he noticed she was deep in thought; he asked her what she was thinking. Alex sat up and started to tie her loose dark hair in a ribbon. "I wonder if Sir Edward is related to the famous Victorian Archaeologist; Lord John Coleville?" He was noted for excavations around Mesopotamia and the near East back then."
Owen was already on to that. "He was Lord John's second son. Does that help?" He answered and Alex just shook her head. "When I was the trainee on Stella's team, we dealt with an incident in ancient Mesopotamia and I recall that Lord John Coleville was one of the archaeologists involved. Nothing untoward, its just I remember the name."
Jericho slapped the seat armrest, pushing his mirror back into his jacket pocket and smiled; "Operational Control has given to go ahead to investigate further. So Alex, your about to get your dream job; a topless French maid in a horny young Victorian gentleman's, naughty household!" Alex just sighed; very loudly and Wilson - chuckling - started the van and pulled away. They would find a quiet spot to jump and Supplies could collect the van. Owen rubbed his hands together; "This is going to make my day, seeing you in that outfit for real." He said to Alex who just ignored him and stared out the window.
She didn't notice the young man standing behind the bus stop, under his plain black umbrella, who watched the van pass by with some real interest. Sir Edward Coleville [currently Edward Kemp; a Stock broker of some note] walked slowly back to his large black Bentley motor car and told the chauffeur to take him home. He really did smile. What a bloody woman and I let her go! He now knew that Alex and Owen had been temporal detectives; probably on his case. But what else had they uncovered?
4. LONDON - SUMMER 1881.
"Charming." Was all Owen said, as he and Wilson sat back down and waited outside. Wilson chuckled; "We can't compete with Alex when there are other men around. She'll get the invitation every time, baby brother." He sat and stared down the bare corridor, then grinned. A tall policeman smiled at him - who was another 'brother' [as Wilson would say]- the pair shook hands and the tall officer dropped onto the bench next to them. "You part of the group having a look at the bones from the old 'French House'?" He asked and Wilson nodded.
The tall officer chuckled; "You want to have a look at the station's Occurrence Book's about the calls that were made to that place, back in the 1880's. That'll give you a story alright." His radio bleeped and his number was being called. Constable 466H answered, apologised and walked off; he had a call to attend to.
Owen smiled; "Occurrence Books had summaries about all incidents that took place on the station's patch. If the police were called to the place [the French House] then, there would be a record of it written up in them." Wilson ran a hand over his face; "Now that could be a real source of information. But how do we get to see them?" Owen sighed and tapped his jacket pocket; "That's what we have mirrors for big man." Wilson grunted and slapped Owen's shoulder, murmuring; "Spot on baby brother. I wondered when you would spot that." Owen just rolled his eyes in mock despair and stood slowly, as the Inspector's door opened.
The team sat quietly in the van and watched the people and police officers, coming and going, from Brick Lane Police Station. Wilson sat behind the wheel and stared up at the falling rain. He turned to Jericho, who was sitting next to him, and said quietly; "So the bloody bones are about seven thousand years old and the two kids were from the bloody stone-age?" Jericho nodded and eased back in his seat; "They must have been buried there, thousands of years ago. I'm waiting for Dispatches to pull up the details. A collector would have attended way back then. They must have only been disturbed with the current work at the house. How the builders of the damn house missed them back in 1878 [when the house was constructed], I don't know."
"So we don't really have a mission. If the kid's bones are that old, Sir Edward clearly had nothing to do with them; except they were buried in his cellar thousands of years before he or his cellars ever existed!" Alex spoke softly, resting her chin on her hand, watching out the windows. Jericho shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms; "Yes, but that is definitely you in that drawing from 1881, so we were definitely on the case there, at that time; unless your moonlighting as a naughty French maid in another time period." He smiled, adding; "But why the hell are we there, now the bones have been cleared up?"
Owen looked up from his mirror and grinned; "That young officer was right Wilson. There is certainly a story about the old French House that would interest us and it's in the Occurrence Book for Brick Lane Station in 1881. There's an entry about police being called to the house because Sir Edward Coleville's young bride had vanished, minutes after arriving back from church. She just vanished from a locked room with several people standing outside. The only window was nailed down and the glass wasn't broken. There was no explanation possible for her disappearance. The police practically took the room apart looking for trap doors, secret openings etc. and found nothing. The young bride was never seen or heard of again."
Wilson shifted in his seat; "Sounds good, but was a human soul reported as disappearing from the time line, at the time?" Owen shook his head; "There's no breaches of the time line for that date and time. She was no time traveller, so where the hell did she go?" Wilson shrugged his shoulders; he didn't know.
Owen continued; "Not five weeks after his bride disappeared, Sir Edward's Valet, a certain Michael Good was found at the bottom of the stairs with his neck broken and five stab wounds. He told the collector, that Sir Edward had stabbed him repeatedly and thrown him down the stairs. He actually didn't say why Sir Edward did that. Now that's a bit strange. But Michael's soul was placed in quarantine for one hundred years, so the Duty Death Angel [Francis at the time] thought he deserved it for something he did."
"Was Sir Edward arrested or charged with the killing?" Jericho asked and Owen shook his head; "No he wasn't. He claimed that Michael was killed by a burglar, that he had apparently disturbed and with his power and position, that was that." Alex sighed and stretched her long legs out. "What happened to Sir Edward's soul, when he died. If had murdered someone, then he would have done time in quarantine too?"
Owen tapped at his mirror and sat up straight; "Sweet fanny Adam's! His soul is listed as missing!" He read on and and held his mirror up; "According to Human Records and Dispatches, Sir Edward Coleville has never died. He missed his dispatch date in 1914. He didn't show up. Inspector Stella Longstreet and Team 35 have been assigned the case; there's no resolution yet."
"Well those bones have - unintentionally - opened a real tin of worms here." Jericho said and consulted his mirror, turning to Owen and smiling; "By the way, that was an excellent little piece of research Owen. Well done." Owen grinned broadly and rewarded himself, by staring at Alex's long legs stretched out next to him. She just slapped his arm and pulled the hem of her short skirt down a little. "Bloody monastery." was all she muttered.
Wilson turned around in his seat and was about to speak to Alex, when he noticed she was deep in thought; he asked her what she was thinking. Alex sat up and started to tie her loose dark hair in a ribbon. "I wonder if Sir Edward is related to the famous Victorian Archaeologist; Lord John Coleville?" He was noted for excavations around Mesopotamia and the near East back then."
Owen was already on to that. "He was Lord John's second son. Does that help?" He answered and Alex just shook her head. "When I was the trainee on Stella's team, we dealt with an incident in ancient Mesopotamia and I recall that Lord John Coleville was one of the archaeologists involved. Nothing untoward, its just I remember the name."
Jericho slapped the seat armrest, pushing his mirror back into his jacket pocket and smiled; "Operational Control has given to go ahead to investigate further. So Alex, your about to get your dream job; a topless French maid in a horny young Victorian gentleman's, naughty household!" Alex just sighed; very loudly and Wilson - chuckling - started the van and pulled away. They would find a quiet spot to jump and Supplies could collect the van. Owen rubbed his hands together; "This is going to make my day, seeing you in that outfit for real." He said to Alex who just ignored him and stared out the window.
She didn't notice the young man standing behind the bus stop, under his plain black umbrella, who watched the van pass by with some real interest. Sir Edward Coleville [currently Edward Kemp; a Stock broker of some note] walked slowly back to his large black Bentley motor car and told the chauffeur to take him home. He really did smile. What a bloody woman and I let her go! He now knew that Alex and Owen had been temporal detectives; probably on his case. But what else had they uncovered?
4. LONDON - SUMMER 1881.
"At least its not bloody raining." Muttered Owen as he carefully placed the worn bowler hat on and then adjusted his jacket and braces. Wilson stood by the carriage and smiled; "You look poor and well worn baby brother. The holes in the shoes are a nice touch. Costumes have done well." He turned to Alex who was straightening her old jacket and smoothing down the skirt that had seen better days. Her hair was loose and unwashed, the little bonnet she wore was old and a little threadbare. She had very little make up on. Wilson sighed; she still looked fucking gorgeous!
Jericho sat in the carriage with the door open and pushed his mirror back into his coat pocket. "The tradesmen entrance is at the side of the house. I've checked my mirror and the Housekeeper, a certain Mrs. Kathleen Gamble is in the kitchen's sitting room. She should come to the door. Impress her Alex and your in." He leaned back and smiled; "Apparently, she hired young Sir Coleville's girls and looked after his 'special maids'. They never answered the door or did any of the hard work. Just pretend your desperate for work and a place to stay. But don't lay it on too thick."
Alex nodded; "My sister Liz would be better at this." Jericho chuckled and gestured to the 'French House'. "Off you go and bloody well keep in touch." Alex and Owen walked up the path and past the grand front doors, they stood before the simple door marked' Trade Only' and Alex knocked loudly on the door. It was a minute or so before Mrs. gamble pulled open the door and stared at the roughly dressed pair standing on her step. "What do you want?" She asked and folded her arms, but looking closely at the young woman. Under the street dirt and unwashed hair, she really could see something special. The boy didn't interest her in the slightest; he looked dumb and a little pathetic.
Alex curtsied and said quietly; "Good morning Ma'am. My brother and I are looking for work. I'm a trained House maid and my young brother here would make an excellent Footman. I understand that your master hires girls who..." She deliberately hesitated and looked at the floor, very demurely and then continued; "That don't mind doing some things that please him. Dressing for him, I mean. I'm not a street girl Ma'am. My old employer died and his heir has sold the house. My brother and I find ourselves in hard times and we're desperate for a position, Ma'am." She gripped her small case with both hands and tried to look as pathetic as Owen already did, without acting!
Kate [the housekeeper] grunted and was about to close the door on the pair, when she stopped and didn't smile; "Undo you coat girl." She said and Alex placed her case down and unbuttoned her coat. she held it open and didn't smile or say anything. Kate rubbed her face; on the surface this girl had a really good figure and her face was quite beautiful; despite the street dirt. She folded her arms; "We may have a position for you girl. but your brother is of no use. His Lordship has two young footmen already, who do bugger all."
Alex nodded and gripped Owen's arm; "Please Ma'am, we can't be separated. He's all I have. I'm sure the master would be generous and hire the pair of us. Please Ma'am, we're hard working and must stay together." Kate just sighed; "I'll take a look at you and if your something special, I'll see what the young master says about the boy." She gestured for them to enter and follow her up the back stairs.
They sat in a quiet upstairs study. The wall's were lined with shelves that contained numerous books and there were glass cabinets scattered around containing small, ancient sculptures. "I bet their from Mesopotamia, objects his father dug up." Alex whispered to Owen, who sat clutching his hat with both hands. It was some minutes before Kate returned and the pair stood. She told Owen to sit and wait, but Alex was to follow her. They went up another flight of back stairs to Kate's private parlour and Kate dropped into a high backed chair and pointed to an empty chair. "Put your clothes on that. I want you to strip down and I mean everything. I need to see you nude. Do you understand that girl?"
Alex nodded and hesitated as she removed her hat; "I'm not a street girl Ma'am. I just desperately need a job." Kate actually smiled; "Believe me child, you'll be safer here than on the streets, even stark naked." She then chuckled and gestured for Alex to get on with it. Alex removed her clothes and stood naked; hands covering her private bits. Kate made her turn several times and told her twice to drop her hands. Finally Alex did so. Kate pointed down to her thighs; "Why are you shaved girl?" She seemed most puzzled and Alex blustered out; "I caught some lice sleeping on the streets and that was the only way I could get rid of them." Some small tears fell down her face,.
Old Kate chuckled; "Well, you won't get lice here, so grow the damn thing out. The master loves a good bush in see through knickers. Now wait here, the master will take a look at you and decide. It's alright girl, he won't hurt you."
Alex stood naked in the little room for a minute or so and the door reopened as Kate wandered in talking to the young man that followed her. Sir Edward Coleville was a strikingly handsome man for the period - or any period - he was smoking a small cigar and he stood and stared at Alex, who lowered her head and looked at the floor. He walked around her, stopping to study her bum. "As I said sir, lovely arse and a fine pair of milkers. She's also very pretty as a bonus. Those big nipples and round arse are worth her wages on their own." Kate smiled and told Alex to bend over a little so that the master could view her arse properly. Alex did so and Sir Edward grunted in satisfaction..
"Alright, I'll take the bloody brother on as well. You don't get quality like this turn up every day. Put her on duty tonight. There are some important guests for dinner and the young lady can show us, if she can do the job. See to it please Mrs. Gamble." He simply turned and walked from the room. Alex was a little astounded, he hadn't make a single move to touch her!
Kate chuckled and pointed to Alex's clothes piled on the chair; "I told you girl, you could walk stark naked around here and be perfectly safe with that one." She then rubbed her face and added; "But keep away from Michael, Sir Edwards's valet. I wouldn't trust him with a dead cat." And sat herself down and watched Alex hurriedly dressing herself.
"I'm not surprised that his lordship took your brother on; your worth his wages as well; easily. Your a real little beauty my girl. You behave yourself and train up well and there's four pounds a week wages in it. That's twice as much you'd get anywhere else and you would have to work bloody hard for it!" She laughed and and relaxed in her chair. Yes, this one was quite a turn up for the books, they needed to replace the poor late Jessica and a real Venus knocks at the door. Of course, the master was going to snap her up; even if it meant taking on the dopy looking brother.
Alex re-joined Owen and she whispered to him what had happened and they were both now employed in the French House. She immediately noticed his grim face and especially no comments about her stripping naked for the master. "What's up?" She said quietly and Owen ran a hand over his face. "The bloody mirrors are off line." Alex quickly - and discretely - checked her mirror; no signals; it was off line too. They both stared at each other; they were trapped until help arrived; but even if it did, would their mirrors be off line too?
The change in their circumstances, by the failure of their mirrors was enormous, the pair were now trapped. They had no money [being poor was part of their disguise!] and no where to run too. Late Victorian London was no place to be poor, destitute and homeless. They both knew that/ only minutes would pass for Wilson and Jericho, whilst days could go past here. "We fucked." Was all Owen said and Alex sighed; "And I may well be, unless we want to live on the streets and go hungry." Owen nodded; "For fuck sake, you have to play this for real Alex. We don't have a bloody choice any more."
Alex leaned back on her chair and ran a hand over her face. The streets were no place for them. Death was all around and whilst she was 'safe' if she died here; young Owen was not.[This was part of Alex's ordained time period and so her soul could be collected] but Owen was from Medieval times and he's would be lost to the darkness; for good. She stared at him and sighed, like it or not, he was her responsibility. She would have to play the tart for real, just to stay here until rescue.
Owen sighed; "There must be a 'Judas Stone' somewhere in the house. maybe Sir Edward's father dug it up in Mesopotamia. Now that's really a fucking crappy piece of luck; for us anyway." Alex agreed and clasped her hands together; this mission was turning rotten by the minute.
They would have to locate the bloody 'Judas Stone' as quickly as possible and get rid of it. But where the hell would they start in a house this size? It was probably the size of a man's thumb. Their thoughts were disturbed by Young William [a footman] who showed Alex her room and couldn't stop smiling at her. He told Owen that he was sharing with him and would show him, where to get his new uniform. William grinned at Alex; "Looking forward to seeing you in costume girl. The master said your a fucking stunner and he'll probably keep you for himself; he has plans for you I think - lucky beggar -he was quite sad at losing young Jessica after he spent so much money on her, with clothes and training." That didn't improve Alex's mood. She was trapped and needed to take real care from now on.
But something wasn't right; the late Jessica had said that Sir Edward hadn't put a hand on her or the other girls; so what did the young footman mean by that? He showed them the maids quarters and waited for Owen at the foot of the small staircase. Owen dropped Alex’s small case upon the only chair and stared about the room; “I bet it’s better than mine.” He moaned, but smiled. Alex sat on the bed and looked out the small window. The rear gardens were beautifully kept. “It’s not too bad actually; i was expecting a lot worse and I really don’t think this bedroom is for servants. Whatever, its better than sleeping on a street corner.” She murmured and removed her little hat and placed it on the bed.
“Well, that horny young sod was certainly interested in you. But I’m not surprised by that; showing your bits to him – stripping stark naked, just like that – he must think he’s on a right winner.” Owen dropped his voice and peered out into the upstairs corridor. Alex chuckled; “Well, he’s going to be a disappointed young man.” That’s when they heard the footsteps outside and both fell silent. Young Lizzie appeared in the doorway and Owen removed his bowler hat and adjusted his neck tie.
Lizzie was one of the ‘upstairs’ maids. Owen couldn’t take his eyes off her and she smiled broadly at the pair. “Just come to say welcome and give you the uniform. There’s only one for now, Mr. Babette will order you some more; if you prove satisfactory.“ She spoke to Alex, but smiled at Owen. Lizzie was wearing her ‘French maid’ costume and Owen was enjoying it already. She placed the small bundle down on the bed, next to Alex, who stood slowly, saying “Thank you,” Quietly.
Owen really did smile, as she – quite deliberately – bent over the bed. Her short black shirt was already exposing her silk panties and her small round arse was pushed up for his benefit. She had black silk stockings and short high heels. That’s when he realised the silk knickers were quite transparent in the light. She turned and smiled; her large breasts hardly restrained by her black bodice top. She adjusted her little frilly mop cap and by lifting her arms, raised the already short skirt. Owen was getting a real treat.
Lizzie patted Owen on the cheek; “We have our own little dining room up here. I’ll ask Mr. Babette if you can serve us ‘upstairs maids’ tonight. That will give you something to look forward to.” She turned back to Alex; “I’ll collect you at six and show you the dining room and bathroom. Best slip into your costume, it’s all new, nothing has been worn before. It should fit, but Kate will do any adjustments you may need, if she hasn't disappeared on some errand for the master - again. Sir Edward will want to see how you look in it.” She stepped out the room and Owen watched her walk down the corridor, hips swinging and her peach like bum wobbling. Owen groaned and Alex managed a chuckle; “You’ve gone a little red my dear perverted brother.”
Owen picked up his case and headed for the door; “Better find my room and brush my footman’s uniform down.” He turned and finally did smile; “I can’t wait to see you in that outfit. Now that will make my bloody day. Well, possibly my bloody year if we still had them.” He disappeared and Alex closed the door and locked it. The key was left in the lock and she also left it there. She laid back on the bed and sighed; she was really playing the tart now!
5. DINNER & A SURPRISING PROPOSAL.
They would have to locate the bloody 'Judas Stone' as quickly as possible and get rid of it. But where the hell would they start in a house this size? It was probably the size of a man's thumb. Their thoughts were disturbed by Young William [a footman] who showed Alex her room and couldn't stop smiling at her. He told Owen that he was sharing with him and would show him, where to get his new uniform. William grinned at Alex; "Looking forward to seeing you in costume girl. The master said your a fucking stunner and he'll probably keep you for himself; he has plans for you I think - lucky beggar -he was quite sad at losing young Jessica after he spent so much money on her, with clothes and training." That didn't improve Alex's mood. She was trapped and needed to take real care from now on.
But something wasn't right; the late Jessica had said that Sir Edward hadn't put a hand on her or the other girls; so what did the young footman mean by that? He showed them the maids quarters and waited for Owen at the foot of the small staircase. Owen dropped Alex’s small case upon the only chair and stared about the room; “I bet it’s better than mine.” He moaned, but smiled. Alex sat on the bed and looked out the small window. The rear gardens were beautifully kept. “It’s not too bad actually; i was expecting a lot worse and I really don’t think this bedroom is for servants. Whatever, its better than sleeping on a street corner.” She murmured and removed her little hat and placed it on the bed.
“Well, that horny young sod was certainly interested in you. But I’m not surprised by that; showing your bits to him – stripping stark naked, just like that – he must think he’s on a right winner.” Owen dropped his voice and peered out into the upstairs corridor. Alex chuckled; “Well, he’s going to be a disappointed young man.” That’s when they heard the footsteps outside and both fell silent. Young Lizzie appeared in the doorway and Owen removed his bowler hat and adjusted his neck tie.
Lizzie was one of the ‘upstairs’ maids. Owen couldn’t take his eyes off her and she smiled broadly at the pair. “Just come to say welcome and give you the uniform. There’s only one for now, Mr. Babette will order you some more; if you prove satisfactory.“ She spoke to Alex, but smiled at Owen. Lizzie was wearing her ‘French maid’ costume and Owen was enjoying it already. She placed the small bundle down on the bed, next to Alex, who stood slowly, saying “Thank you,” Quietly.
Owen really did smile, as she – quite deliberately – bent over the bed. Her short black shirt was already exposing her silk panties and her small round arse was pushed up for his benefit. She had black silk stockings and short high heels. That’s when he realised the silk knickers were quite transparent in the light. She turned and smiled; her large breasts hardly restrained by her black bodice top. She adjusted her little frilly mop cap and by lifting her arms, raised the already short skirt. Owen was getting a real treat.
Lizzie patted Owen on the cheek; “We have our own little dining room up here. I’ll ask Mr. Babette if you can serve us ‘upstairs maids’ tonight. That will give you something to look forward to.” She turned back to Alex; “I’ll collect you at six and show you the dining room and bathroom. Best slip into your costume, it’s all new, nothing has been worn before. It should fit, but Kate will do any adjustments you may need, if she hasn't disappeared on some errand for the master - again. Sir Edward will want to see how you look in it.” She stepped out the room and Owen watched her walk down the corridor, hips swinging and her peach like bum wobbling. Owen groaned and Alex managed a chuckle; “You’ve gone a little red my dear perverted brother.”
Owen picked up his case and headed for the door; “Better find my room and brush my footman’s uniform down.” He turned and finally did smile; “I can’t wait to see you in that outfit. Now that will make my bloody day. Well, possibly my bloody year if we still had them.” He disappeared and Alex closed the door and locked it. The key was left in the lock and she also left it there. She laid back on the bed and sighed; she was really playing the tart now!
5. DINNER & A SURPRISING PROPOSAL.
She sorted through the small bundle, the bodice wasn’t quite her size and she would certainly be hanging out of it. “As long as I don’t bend over too much or breathe deeply; it should do.” She muttered to herself. At least there were three pairs of silk panties – all new and still wrapped in clean paper – she had to admit the uniform certainly wasn’t cheap in any way. Just the stockings would have cost a working class girl; a month’s wages!
There was a soft knock at the door and she unlocked and opened it slowly. Kate stood outside, a sewing basket in her hands. She didn’t smile; “Let’s see how the uniform fits. I’ll make any adjustments if needed. The Master wants to see how you look.” She stepped in and Alex started to remove her jacket. The woman smiled; “Jesus, I can see why he hired you straight away, even if it meant taking on another footman, your a right little cracker. He was quite taken by you girl and that hasn't happened before. He really loved the way, you didn't bat an eyelid about being stark naked in front of him." She saw the worried look on Alex's face and added; "It's alright girl. He knows your not a prossie [prostitute] just down on your luck and he was most impressed that you stay with your brother; to look after the boy."
Alex watched her open the sewing basket and noticed the small tattoo’s on the back of both hands. She knew that such tattoos were very unusual on women for this time and place. Kate saw her looking at the tattoo’s and smiled a little. “I have others. I was a little wild in my younger days. Ran away from home at fourteen and joined a bloody circus. They were good days. Kept my dad’s dirty fucking hands off me, anyway.” She said and pulled a needle and thread out. “Come on girl, I have to see to the dinner for tonight.” She said and smiled.
Kate made all the necessary adjustments and the pair of woman chatted like old friends. Kate had clearly taken to her new French Maid. She told Alex all about the goings on at the French House. She sang Sir Edwards praises; the young master was apparently immensely popular with his staff and friends. Kate also told Alex about the resident ghosts of the place; two children who could be heard laughing and talking. Kate was a little mystified by that, since the house was brand new and only just build. Alex really wanted to tell her about the stone age bones in the cellars, but she wouldn't be able to explain, how she knows about them!
Alex stared at herself in the full length mirror, fixed on the wall opposite the bed. No matter how she tried to pull the skirt down, even a little; her crotch was still exposed. Designed that way she thought to herself. The bodice certainly fitted better after Kate’s adjustments, but still exposed a lot of her magnificent bosom. Kate had shown her the secret straps at each side; all she had to do was push her thumbs into each and the bodice folded neatly down, exposing her breasts fully.
“That’s how you’ll wear it, when serving dinner to the master and his guests. He’ll going to try you out tonight; he has a couple of very important dinner guests and he’ll want to show you off.“ Kate had informed her as she left. Alex pulled on a cardigan and buttoned it up, but she couldn’t do anything about the damn short skirt. Earlier, Kate had seemed quite surprised that Alex was shaved; women in this century really didn’t shave their privates. Kate had chuckled; “I bet he’ll [the master] tell you to grow that bush of yours. He likes that. A hairy fanny through silk knickers is quite a turn on for him, I think.”
Alex [and Owen!] had both noticed that young Lizzie certainly didn’t trim her private parts, including her armpits. But then, that simply wasn’t done in this era. She sighed; there was another knock at the door and she opened it. Sir Edward stood smoking; he didn’t attempt to enter the room and looked Alex straight in the eyes and slowly smiled.
"At dinner tonight, Lizzie and Emma will show you the ropes. They can earn extra money by being nice to the guests. I understand that Lizzie has made enough to buy herself a little place in the country. I don't know what Emma does with her extra money. But you, I understand from Kate, don't wish to take part in those...those type of games. So i will inform the guests to keep their hands off you." He looked down at her legs and short skirt. "I'll speak to you later Alexandra. I have a proposal for you that you may be interested in. I have waited a long time for a woman with your qualities." He smiled and walked away, leaving Alex quite puzzled.
She was absolutely amazed that he hadn’t tried anything on. He clearly wanted her, but was disciplined enough to keep his hands to himself; for now? She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered; where the hell could she keep her damn mirror in this outfit! - even if the bloody thing was off line; she would hold onto it. She also had to find out where the bloody Judas stone was. But where the fuck could it be?
Alex was introduced to Emma – the other ‘upstairs maid’ - just before dinner. Emma was quite tall and had dark raven hair with long legs and a pair of breasts that easily rivalled Alex’s. But she had an atrocious East End accent. Every other word she uttered was an obscenity; but not in front of the young master. She really became quite demure, when he was present.
Kate assembled the girls in the small parlour that was linked to the private upstairs dining room. She instructed the girls carefully about how the dinner would be served and told Lizzie to look after Alex.
The various courses were assembled by Mr. Babette and Kate. Alex could hear talking and a little laughter coming from the dining room. She was stunned to hear a woman’s posh voice. She whispered to Lizzie about that, who just smiled; “That’s Lady Gabby [Gabriella] she’s the wife of the master’s best friend; Lord Robert. She’ll have her hands up your skirt before the second course. She plays both sides apparently, just don’t scream or drop anything and you’ll be fine. Just let her have a feel round with a smile on your face and everyone will be happy. But she does have bloody cold hands.” Lizzie grinned and Mr. Babette called for the girls attention.
There were seven courses’ to be served and Mr. Babette would serve the drinks. Alex noted there were four open wine bottles on the serving table and brandy had been decanted into an exquisite – and very expensive – crystal decanter. She stared at it and really wished for a glass. But her attention was drawn back to Mr. Babette, who clapped his hands softly and said; “Covers down please.”
Alex watched as Lizzie and Emma dropped their bodices and stood straight, like soldiers awaiting inspection. She slowly followed and stood a little straighter. Mr. Babette turned to Kate and actually smiled. “Now that’s the best pair of knockers I’ve seen in years. The young master will be pleased.” He turned back to the girls, each now holding two soup plates, whilst Alex carried only one. Mr. Babette had told her, that she would exclusively serve the master tonight. Emma and Lizzie would wait on the four other guests. He gestured for them to follow him. Mr. Babette pushed open the swing door and the girls followed him out into the dining room.
The master sat at the head of the table with Lady Gabby to his left and Lord Robert on his right. A very tall young man with a thick black, short beard and shoulder length hair [unusual for the period]. Alex noted that he was a very handsome, strapping young man. In modern times, he would easily be referred to as a 'babe magnet'. He smiled at Alex and she couldn't stop herself smiling back. He sat next to Lady Gabby. Lord Robert had a much older man sitting next to him. He was short and plump with thin glasses; he must have been in his early fifties. The conversation appeared to centre around Edward; the Prince of Wales and his latest Mistress, then it turned to money.
The plump little man was moaning about the Prince; he hadn’t paid his gambling debts – again – and owed Howard [the plump man] nearly a hundred pounds now. [that would be thousands of pounds in today’s money]. Alex had her soup plate filled by Mr. Babette from the silver soup tureen and placed it down on the master's table mat. Lady Gabby stared at her: “Colly, [short for Coleville?] I must say that your new girl is an absolute stunner. Where on earth did you get her? She could be a damn Hapsburg Princess!” The other guests all agreed with that statement, especially the young man with the beard. He waved his spoon about and pleaded with 'Colly' to let him sketch her after dinner.
The master agreed and ran his hand up Alex’s leg and patted her bum. “If you offer her the right money Ross, I’m sure she’ll pose for you. In fact, I’ll pay you handsomely to paint her in oils.” He gave Alex’s bum cheek a little squeeze and smiled; well pleased that she was quite docile and submissive to his touch. He turned back to the ‘artist’ and sipped his soup, saying; “I would love you to paint her naked, sitting on the old bench in the gardens. I might even have her photographed in some very naughty poses.” He squeezed her arse again and smiled at her – really smiled – and returned to his soup.
Alex was a little surprised by his groping; apparently he had never 'laid a hand' on the other girls, so why was he touching her up? Ross the artist sketched Alex standing by the dining table. The others watched, sipping their wine and chatting. When he had enough to complete the sketch later, Ross pulled a white five pound note from his pocket and very slowly pushed it into Alex’s panties, making sure he 'accidently' touched her vagina more than once. He smiled and said softly that there were more of those [the note] to come if she behaved herself, whilst he painted her for 'Colly', later on. Alex suddenly realised - with a little shock - that she had enjoyed his gentle touch. Close up he really was a handsome man.
But Alex was again, surprised by Ross touching her so intimately; Sir Edward had said; he would tell his guest that Alex didn't want to play that game. After dinner, the guests sat in the study and was served more drinks by Emma and lizzie. 'Colly' pulled Alex upon his lap and sat with one arm about her waist. The other held a full glass of brandy. He occasionally took a sip and allowed Alex a little from the same glass. They were watching Lizzie and Emma giving Ross and Lord Robert a blow job, directly in front of them. Lady Gabby was instructing Emma how her groaning husband liked his small cock sucked.
The master sat at the head of the table with Lady Gabby to his left and Lord Robert on his right. A very tall young man with a thick black, short beard and shoulder length hair [unusual for the period]. Alex noted that he was a very handsome, strapping young man. In modern times, he would easily be referred to as a 'babe magnet'. He smiled at Alex and she couldn't stop herself smiling back. He sat next to Lady Gabby. Lord Robert had a much older man sitting next to him. He was short and plump with thin glasses; he must have been in his early fifties. The conversation appeared to centre around Edward; the Prince of Wales and his latest Mistress, then it turned to money.
The plump little man was moaning about the Prince; he hadn’t paid his gambling debts – again – and owed Howard [the plump man] nearly a hundred pounds now. [that would be thousands of pounds in today’s money]. Alex had her soup plate filled by Mr. Babette from the silver soup tureen and placed it down on the master's table mat. Lady Gabby stared at her: “Colly, [short for Coleville?] I must say that your new girl is an absolute stunner. Where on earth did you get her? She could be a damn Hapsburg Princess!” The other guests all agreed with that statement, especially the young man with the beard. He waved his spoon about and pleaded with 'Colly' to let him sketch her after dinner.
The master agreed and ran his hand up Alex’s leg and patted her bum. “If you offer her the right money Ross, I’m sure she’ll pose for you. In fact, I’ll pay you handsomely to paint her in oils.” He gave Alex’s bum cheek a little squeeze and smiled; well pleased that she was quite docile and submissive to his touch. He turned back to the ‘artist’ and sipped his soup, saying; “I would love you to paint her naked, sitting on the old bench in the gardens. I might even have her photographed in some very naughty poses.” He squeezed her arse again and smiled at her – really smiled – and returned to his soup.
Alex was a little surprised by his groping; apparently he had never 'laid a hand' on the other girls, so why was he touching her up? Ross the artist sketched Alex standing by the dining table. The others watched, sipping their wine and chatting. When he had enough to complete the sketch later, Ross pulled a white five pound note from his pocket and very slowly pushed it into Alex’s panties, making sure he 'accidently' touched her vagina more than once. He smiled and said softly that there were more of those [the note] to come if she behaved herself, whilst he painted her for 'Colly', later on. Alex suddenly realised - with a little shock - that she had enjoyed his gentle touch. Close up he really was a handsome man.
But Alex was again, surprised by Ross touching her so intimately; Sir Edward had said; he would tell his guest that Alex didn't want to play that game. After dinner, the guests sat in the study and was served more drinks by Emma and lizzie. 'Colly' pulled Alex upon his lap and sat with one arm about her waist. The other held a full glass of brandy. He occasionally took a sip and allowed Alex a little from the same glass. They were watching Lizzie and Emma giving Ross and Lord Robert a blow job, directly in front of them. Lady Gabby was instructing Emma how her groaning husband liked his small cock sucked.
Ross rested his hands on Lizzie's bobbing head and smiled directly at Alex, who watched Lizzie's performance closely; the young artist was certainly well equipped. It was in stack contrast to Lord Robert; who held Emma by the hair and pushed her onto his small cock and called her a slut and whore. He had quite an evil grin on his face and Lady Gabby slapped the girls arse on several occasions. Alex decided the pair were really quite a nasty couple. They were clearly made for each other.
Howard sat pulling his limp dick and repeatedly asked 'Colly' if he could have Alex. 'Colly' said no to each request and gently pulled Alex to him and held her quite tight. He sipped his brandy and made Alex do the same. "Your playing no part in this little game, tonight or any night. We have much bigger and better plans for you and your stunning charms, my dear." He placed the brandy glass down and started to kiss her neck and shoulder. She tried to pull away and was shocked by the scene unfolding in front of her. He pushed his hand into her thighs, and rubbed her crotch, "That's a good girl. Don't try and refuse me or I will beat your brains out and not think twice about doing it." He slapped Alex's bum cheek so hard, that she actually screamed and tried to jump from his lap. He held her tight and raised his hand again.
"I would really behave yourself girl. I won't just spank you for being naughty, next time." He formed his hand into a big fist and gently waved it under her chin. "You refuse me anything and I will use this and it won't be pleasant; for you." He roughly turned her head and pushed his mouth over hers. He 'French kissed' her for some minutes. Even sucking hard on her tongue at one point. She knew, she had to submit to this and closed her eyes and thought of...horse riding, for whatever reason!
His hands were all over and Alex really wanted to cry or scream or both, but the thought of being beaten without mercy and then tossed onto the street, without money or a place to stay, made her submit to his groping's. He sucked her nipples real hard and slapped her bum several times more. but no so hard. He repeatedly pushed his fingers into her crotch, under her panties and the terrible groping was only halted when the Butler whispered into his ear.
He kissed her bare shoulder slowly and whispered in her ear. "They [Lizzie & Emma] will fuck with them all - except Ross - as usual. He's normally happy with just a good sucking. But you can retire to bed my dear, after we finish our brandy. You must be tired after your first shift. I want you fresh tomorrow, for your portrait sitting and photographs. Then its your big day on Saturday. That's when it will be explained, just what a wealthy and happy woman you are about to become." He laughed in a very unpleasant way and roughly squeezed her breasts, giving her a love bite on her back. "That's a little something to keep. When I do have you, you'll enjoy every bite."
The master was, apparently, not happy with the what the Butler told him. Howard groaned as he masturbated into his hankie and asked 'Colly' for Alex yet again. The answer was 'no' - yet again. He even offered the incredible sum of a hundred pounds just for her to suck his cock. The master sighed and kissed the distressed Alex on the forehead; "No Howard; She's too precious for that. Lizzie or Emma will relieve you. This young lady has bigger fish to catch." He stood and pulled Alex to her feet and they walked to the door; he made Alex walk in front of him, so he could see her hips and bum swinging. He gave her bum another little slap and chuckled; "We are going to make a fortune together.my dear. An absolute fortune. But i have to go and sort out a little problem; otherwise you would be on your knee's with my cock in your arse."
The pair [the master and Alex] left the modest little orgy that was getting under way and 'Colly' walked Alex to her room and kissed her strongly again. He - again - groped her private parts and almost bit her on the shoulder. But he sighed, turned and walked away, but stopped and looked back at her. "I've had the key left in the lock,, so you'll feel safe my dear. Just keep an eye out for that bloody valet Michael; he really has a thing for beautiful things and your mine." He chuckled and disappeared down the small back stairs. Alex dashed into her room and locked the door; also putting a chair under the door handle. She still couldn't believe what had happened to her.
Sir Edward was a dirty nasty, violent groper and sex predator, who wouldn't take no for an answer and certainly didn't keep his word about her not being touched by him or the guests. She sighed and wondered how Owen was getting on. So much for Kate saying that she would be safe in the house with the young master. "Total bollocks!" Muttered Alex and slept on the bed - dressed - and slept badly.
6. THE OUTRAGED HUSBAND SCAM.
Alex carried the breakfast tray into the Sir Edward's private study. She was nervous and a little afraid; she knocked on the door and a soft voice called out for her to enter. Sir Edward must have a visitor; there were two cups on the tray. Alex sighed; someone is about to get an eyeful. At least she wasn't bloody topless. She opened the door and entered, curtsying. Sir Edward stood up and walked over; Alex actually took a step back, feeling really vulnerable in the maids outfit and especially after the dreadful groping and threats, she had endured last night at his hands.
But Sir Edward took the tray from her and placed it on his desk. He was alone in the study - well, apart from Alex - he walked back to his desk and gestured for her to sit on the chair in front of his desk. Alex very carefully and slowly eased herself down. She sat with her knee's closed tight together; she certainly wouldn't be crossing her legs in front of him; in this bloody short skirt and wearing panties that were practically transparent.
He poured two coffee's and handed one to Alex. He smiled and sat back. "I have a little proposition for you Alex - may I call you Alex? - that you may be interested in. It means money, plenty of it, travel abroad and around Britain, as a lady of quality. You'll have your own maid and a very generous clothes allowance. All you have to do, is what your doing now; showing yourself off in private. Now, does that interest you?"
Alex sipped the hot coffee and nodded; what the fuck is he up too? playing Mr. Nice guy now and what for, what is he after? She shuddered a little; she bloody knew what he was after; her. Sir Edward smiled and nodded to himself; "That's good Alex. My brother Harold and I have a little scheme, which is not quite legal or moral. But it will produce lots of money and I mean loads of the stuff." He leaned back in the chair and sighed; "You see, our father has squandered most of the family fortune digging up bloody ruins in the desert; and finding little of real value. Harold and I will rectify that with your help. All you have to do is tease and lure men - rich married men - to your rooms and we will do the rest. There is no violence involved and you will be perfectly safe. Are you still interested?"
Alex nodded again; the bloody pervert must have had acting lessons! He was now playing a charming, supposedly straight forward young man, trying to interest her in some bloody scam; probably blackmail by the sound of it. Sir Edward smiled and slapped his hands together with joy. That made Alex jump a little; after last night she believed he could be capable of violence; especially towards women who didn't submit to his carnal desires. "That's excellent; we have waited a long time for a young lady like you. Beautiful, she had to be a living Venus. But she also had to capable of taking her clothes off in front of strange men. You fit the bill perfectly. You look demure, obedient and you don't mind stripping naked for a stranger; like I was yesterday. Alex, my dear, you are about to become a very wealthy young lady."
He offered her the plate with the biscuits on and she took one. Sir Edward was now smiling; Jesus, she thought, he really can play Mister bloody charming when he wants to. "How does this work?" She asked quietly and nibbled at her biscuit. She refrained from 'dunking' the biscuit in her tea; that wasn't very lady like. He grinned and held up several photographs; all mature men in expensive suits. He tapped one picture; "Lord George Campbell-Tate. Married, wealthy - very wealthy - and a real hound dog for beautiful young woman who are married. He is our current target. We believe he is good for five hundred pounds to keep his name out of the papers and the divorce courts. He'll be easy pickings for you."
Alex leaned forward and stared at the picture; "So I lure him to my rooms and you leapt out as the outraged husband and after a little heated discussion; agree not to divorce your unfaithful wife, if he pays up. Do I have that right?" Sir Edwards slapped his hands together again and grinned; "I bloody well knew I had picked the right girl!" Alex nodded then sighed; "Just one fly in the ointment; we're not married and everyone knows that your single." Sir Edward smiled; "Well, we can soon rectify that particular fly. We'll marry tomorrow at St. Thomas's. It will be in all the papers. A quick honeymoon and then bang; we hit the first victim at a House party that Lord Campbell-Tate is holding at his Kent house country estate, early next month."
"I took the liberty of already making the arrangements, in anticipation that I was quite correct in my assessment of your character. Mrs. Gamble will adjust the dress that was delivered this morning. It's very nice and Lizzie & Emma will be your bridesmaids. I can even find a Father to give you away." Alex was surprised by that; he had already made the bloody arrangements. Probably would have threatened real violence; if she had said no. There was soft knock at the door and Mr. Babette entered; he smiled at Alex and spoke softly into Sir Edwards ear. Alex finished her coffee and biscuit. Sir Edward didn't look happy - again - with his Butler's message.
Sir Edward nodded and spoke quietly to Mr. Babette; "I'll deal with that myself. Harold knows the plan. He can stand in for me. Wake him up - gently - and tell him to get his act together." Mr. Babette nodded and left the room. Sir Edward smiled at Alex and stood; she rose carefully from her seat and tugged a little at the short hem of her skirt; it didn't help. Sir Edward was getting a very close up view of her charms. He smiled and gestured to her short skirt and stocking tops. "You' ll be wearing far better and classier clothes that that my dear. You will be attired as a lady - a naughty lady - but a lady."
He pulled open the door for her and she slipped past him; really waiting for him to grab her or something. He didn't and she found herself in the corridor, totally puzzled by his change in behaviour. She needed to find Owen and discuss what had been discovered about Sir Edward; he was a blackmailer and probably trafficked young women for sex. Yet Lizzie and Emma wouldn't have a word said against Sir Edward. The bloody man was practically a Saint to them. She shook her head and headed for Owen's room. He wasn't there, so she made her way back to the kitchens.
Mrs Gamble stared at her and sighed; "Alex, get your head together; where's the bloody coffee tray?" Alex smiled and held up her hands; "I forgot, sorry Ma'am." She was about to ask the whereabouts of Owen, when she noticed the two young footmen - sitting at the table with tea and toast - blatantly staring at her crotch. She dropped her hands and clasped them over her private parts, that she knew could be seen through her thin panties. "Do you want to take a photograph or something? " She asked with plenty of sarcasm in her voice.
Mrs Gamble stared at her and sighed; "Alex, get your head together; where's the bloody coffee tray?" Alex smiled and held up her hands; "I forgot, sorry Ma'am." She was about to ask the whereabouts of Owen, when she noticed the two young footmen - sitting at the table with tea and toast - blatantly staring at her crotch. She dropped her hands and clasped them over her private parts, that she knew could be seen through her thin panties. "Do you want to take a photograph or something? " She asked with plenty of sarcasm in her voice.
They both giggled and William sipped his tea and smiled; "Nah, we've seen the sketch that Mr. Ross has done, But's its nothing like the real thing. 'Colly' will be well pleased with that. But he'll soon have his hands on the real thing. Your in for a bloody good poking my girl. He wants you up in his bedroom with some morning tea. We don't expect to see you until lunch time."
The other footman laughed; "We'll know if he's enjoyed his favourite pastime. You'll be walking funny and won't poo right for a week!" They both laughed until Mrs. Gamble shouted at them to get back to work. They reluctantly left, with William whispering to Alex; "Take up plenty of butter on his breakfast tray. He'll need some for both his toast and his cock, otherwise you'll be screaming the bloody house down as he pokes your bum hole." Mrs. Gamble again told the boys to leave and sighed. She smiled at the look on Alex's face. "Don't worry girl. I've already sent Lizzie up there. She couldn't care less what 'Colly' shoves in her bum. Now, Sir Edward wants you fresh and looking lovely for tomorrow."
Alex actually sighed with relief at those words and asked where her 'brother' was. Mrs. Gamble smiled; "I've sent the boy to fetch the flowers for tomorrow. He seemed quite surprised by your... your arranged marriage. But was happy about it. After all, his big sister is about to become a wealthy young woman." She grinned and returned to slapping pasty around; beef Wellington was on the dinner menu tonight. Alex sat at the table and picked up the paper. It was all print and no pictures. She sighed and turned the pages without real interest.
That's when she noticed the thick brown envelope on the small table by the door, where the post usually went. She stood up and wandered over; the handwriting was really neat and addressed to Sir Edward. It was heavily sealed. Mrs. Gamble looked up from beating up the pastry and sighed; "My bloody head wouldn't save my legs. Could you place that on the small table outside Sir Edwards study my dear?" Alex nodded and picked the envelope up. If he was in bed with the very willing Lizzie, then she was safe to return to his study.
Alex stood outside and tapped the envelope; she gripped the door handle and turned it. The door was unlocked! She couldn't believe her luck and pushed open the study door and a surprised Sir Edward looked up. Now that was a shock and she apologised for not knocking and handed the envelope over. He waved her apology aside and smiled, opening the envelope immediately. He looked up at Alex; "Anything else you want my dear?" Alex saw the legal looking papers spill out on his desk. She shook her head and apologised again. He just smiled and started to read the papers.
He muttered to himself; "Damn, I will need to deal with this myself. I need to speak to Harold." Alex left quietly and stood in the corridor outside and rubbed her chin; What the fuck was going on?
7. THE RELUCTANT BRIDE?
Alex sat in the warm ornate bathtub and sipped her morning tea, thinking about the dress hanging in her room, which Kate was making final adjustments to. Lizzie and Emma's voices could be heard coming from the room; they actually sounded quite excited. They would jump in the tub after her., 'Colly insisted they were properly clean and presentable, after having sex with Lord Robert, Ross, Howard and Lady Gabby the night before.
She placed the cup on the small table near her bath and splashed a little water over her face and laid back in the soothing warm water. Sir Edward had quite an audacious plan to make his own fortune [and Alex's with him - apparently] by exploiting very rich men's weaknesses; their passion for a woman like Alex. But, she couldn't just be some tart that could be bought for a few pounds, No, she had to be something special and apparently out of reach.
In the sexually restrained and oppressed Victorian society, one thing would lure them to Sir Edward; the opportunity to fuck his beautiful young, and seemingly innocent, new wife; Lady Alexandra! They would chase her, thinking they were the predators and Alex the prey, not realising until too late, that they were the prey and she was the huntress. They would not only be sexually disappointed; they would be seriously out of pocket too!
The plain was a simple and an audacious one; Alex would lure the man with a little flirting, ending up in a very compromising situation, where her outraged and wronged husband, would appear and demand a divorce, with all the horrendous scandal that would bring on the cheating husband. They would all pay 'compensation' to Edward to avoid that sort of scandal. None would want their names in the papers and the possibly, of their wives bringing divorce action themselves. It would certainly have them, rushing to hand over hundreds of pounds, and for the 'bigger fish', it could run to thousands. Even Alex had to admit it was an incredibly good scam.
Thus Kate was making final adjustments to Alex's wedding gown and the two bridesmaid's dresses for Lizzie and Emma. Her and Sir Edward would marry that very afternoon in St. Thomas's church and after a brief honeymoon, would hit the first 'sucker' upon their return to London. The 'Mark' was already set up for the sting. A very, very rich married man whose wife, apparently, really didn't 'understand' him. Eddy believed he could be worth at least five hundred pounds in 'compensation'. [That is incredibly serious money for the time; equivalent of the purchase price for a modern London house!]
Alex had queried how they could marry so quickly, without 'bands' being called for the obligatory two weeks before the ceremony. Edward just grinned; he had simply paid the bent priest, a large sum of money and had also paid off the the two young boys, who had threatened the 'good' father, with their intentions to tell the police; about the little games he played with them. He had even arranged an old actor to play the part of her father!
They would 'honeymoon' in Paris for five days and upon their return, have a grand party at his father's house [Lord John Coleville] where the poor, gullible married mark' would be invited and appropriately; fleeced. She had asked about his father and his reaction, to his son, marrying a woman who had no family or money. Sir Edward had just laughed; "My dear, my father will only have to take a look at you and he'll damn well know why, I married you! You never know, the dirty old sod could end up paying me some of my inheritance early." That thought made him really chuckle, but Alex grimaced at the thought.
Edward knew that his father; who was digging around some ruins in bloody Persia, wouldn't be too bothered about missing the surprise wedding. The dirty bastard would drool over his new daughter-in-law, especially, when she would be made to parade around in her underwear, for his approval and to get her share of the allowances, that he would award her; for good behaviour. Edward's brother; Harold, was already setting up the wedding. They would meet up and Harold could keep his dirty hands off Alex.
Alex's current thoughts were disturbed by Owen sticking his head around the door. He had his hand over his eyes and almost smiled; "Kate says to get your arse out the bath. The dress is ready to be fitted." He dropped his voice and did not smile, adding; "No bloody sign of the damn thing. [the Judas stone] But I'll keep searching." Alex just sighed and said "OK" quietly. Owen disappeared and she eased herself from the bath and dried herself slowly and carefully with a towel and wrapped it around her body. She headed for her room and was just about to pull the door open, when Michael Good - unpleasant valet - jumped from the corner of the stairwell and shouted, rather strangely; "What's mine is his and what's his is mine!" He grabbed the hem of Alex's towel and pulled it it down.
They would 'honeymoon' in Paris for five days and upon their return, have a grand party at his father's house [Lord John Coleville] where the poor, gullible married mark' would be invited and appropriately; fleeced. She had asked about his father and his reaction, to his son, marrying a woman who had no family or money. Sir Edward had just laughed; "My dear, my father will only have to take a look at you and he'll damn well know why, I married you! You never know, the dirty old sod could end up paying me some of my inheritance early." That thought made him really chuckle, but Alex grimaced at the thought.
Edward knew that his father; who was digging around some ruins in bloody Persia, wouldn't be too bothered about missing the surprise wedding. The dirty bastard would drool over his new daughter-in-law, especially, when she would be made to parade around in her underwear, for his approval and to get her share of the allowances, that he would award her; for good behaviour. Edward's brother; Harold, was already setting up the wedding. They would meet up and Harold could keep his dirty hands off Alex.
Alex's current thoughts were disturbed by Owen sticking his head around the door. He had his hand over his eyes and almost smiled; "Kate says to get your arse out the bath. The dress is ready to be fitted." He dropped his voice and did not smile, adding; "No bloody sign of the damn thing. [the Judas stone] But I'll keep searching." Alex just sighed and said "OK" quietly. Owen disappeared and she eased herself from the bath and dried herself slowly and carefully with a towel and wrapped it around her body. She headed for her room and was just about to pull the door open, when Michael Good - unpleasant valet - jumped from the corner of the stairwell and shouted, rather strangely; "What's mine is his and what's his is mine!" He grabbed the hem of Alex's towel and pulled it it down.
Alex was standing at the top of the stairs stark naked and Michael threw the towel back at her with real anger; "You best cover your fucking self, you bitch. If I get the chance, your gone." He turned on his heels and walked away. Alex jumped into the room, trying to cover herself with the towel; she was actually shaking. Kate grabbed her and stroked her hair; "Never mind that bloody arsehole, he's been ate up with jealously since Sir Edward told him about the marriage plans." Lizzie and Emma were already in their bridesmaid dresses, in a wonderful shade of blue. They were already tippling gin and they offered Alex a glass. She took it and knocked it back in one hit. Kate grinned; "I knew his lordship had picked the right girl." Lizzie and Emma laughed at that and refilled Alex's glass; and their own.
The young photographer had set up his cumbersome camera, at the foot of the grand staircase and stood idle, next to it. He sipped his glass of whisky and watched the bride appear at the top of the stairs; Kate and the two bridesmaids were getting her ready. Despite being much younger, than first Alex had met him, Bartholomew Blackberry was recognised immediately by Alex. But she knew, that he would not know her - yet - that would come years later and in very similar circumstances; working a blackmail scam. [See episode; 'The Devil's Circus'.] "Typical that he would turn up here." She muttered to herself, but was not surprised by his appearance.
'Colly' joined the photographer, he was now resplendent in his morning suit, with a subdued and glum looking Valet in tow. The master called up to Alex; "Just some pictures for me first. Now do as I tell you, you really don't want me to have to discipline you; like a good husband should. Thank you my dear." Kate chuckled; "See, he has that nasty little dog under control. Now lift your skirts darling and let Bart take some lovely intimate pictures for your new husband to treasure." Alex sighed, she stared at 'Colly' and remembered the threats of violence, he had made against her, if she refused him anything. She had already had a small sample of what he was capable of. She didn't want a good hiding just because she wouldn't pose for some mildly pornographic pictures.
Alex with Lizzie's help, rearranged her beautiful silk and lace wedding dress. Bart actually whistled, as he dived under the dark cloth behind the camera. "That is some bloody piece of cake 'Colly'. She's bloody perfect for the job." 'Colly' just nodded, smiling broadly; "I know Bart. Oh, I really do know.. We know how to pick them." Yes, this young dirty filthy tart would make them some really good money and if she didn't do as she was told; well, he would always enjoy 'correcting' her error on that score. 'Colly' chuckled to himself and enjoyed the views on offer.
Alex stood with her dress pulled up, exposing her white silk stockings and panties. Lizzie and Emma did the same, except they also exposed their ample breasts. Bart and his assistant worked the camera for some minutes. With Alex and the girls in various, very naughty positions. Bart really did shout encouragement, finally, he asked [with some anticipation] 'Colly' if he could take some real photographs. 'Colly' rubbed his chin and smiled; "Alex, my dear, 'Black Bart' would really like to take some truly intimate pictures. Please take down your panties. That's a good girl."
Before Alex could even reply, Kate had tugged down her lace panties and pulled them from her. "Show yourself properly. There's good little wife." She said and held up the panties for all to see. Everyone applauded and "Carry on." Was all the master said, smiling broadly. Lizzie and Emma quickly followed and Kate helped Alex pull her magnificent breasts out. "Now, your being a good little girl. He's a lot easier to handle, if you just obey him. Saves a lot of fucking bruises and tears." Alex just stared at her. So much for him not touching the girls; he was a bloody vicious animal around women.
The three young footman were all enjoying the show, happening at the top of the stairs. Especially Owen, who cursed his mirror - under his breath - for being out of service. He would have given anything to capture the sight above him. Young William tugged his sleeve and whispered; "Your sister's a right one. She's going to make a fucking fortune. No wonder his lordship, already thinks the sun shines out of her bum." He then chuckled adding; "It's a real shame, that's all he'll stick his dick into." The other footman laughed quietly and Owen rubbed his chin; there was something not quite right about Sir Edward and his attitude to women. He stared across at Michael Good, who was unsmiling and staring at Alex with some real hatred. "Oh Fuck!" was all Owen muttered. He now knew, that finding the stone was paramount and urgent.
Owen stood back in the doorway and thought hard; they [he and Alex] really needed to get the fuck out of here, before she gets dragged off on honeymoon. That's when a light bulb went on inside his head. He hurriedly left the scene and made for the back stairs, running up them, two at a time, and found himself in Sir Edward's study, where he and Alex, had first been placed by Kate. He carefully went from cabinet to cabinet and then heard all the noise downstairs. The wedding party was leaving. He hesitated, he couldn't go to the church and miss this great opportunity to find the damn Judas Stone. He knew Alex wouldn't mind him missing her 'wedding' and so continued searching, slowly and methodically. Owen knew he must find the damn stone or the current time line would change; and not in the best interests of Alex.
8. JEKYLL & HYDE.
Father Grenville Digby wiped his sweaty hands on his cassock and picked up his bible. He carefully removed the thirty pounds that Sir Edward had placed in it and sighed. He could easily forge the dates of the 'bands' being called and marry the insistent Lord to his young bride. Her 'father' waited by the font; a little worse for whisky, but was dressed appropriately. He stared out the vestibule window and watched 'Colly' walking up the path with his best man; Lord Robert. They were laughing together. The priest half smiled; if the devil could cast his net here, he certainly could fill a few corners of hell. He chuckled at his own humour, then realised, the net would scoop him up too. He crossed himself and headed for the altar.
The bride arrived a few minutes after the small congregation had settled in. She looked absolutely stunning, Lizzie and Emma looked clean & wholesome [for once]. She stood before Father Digby and her 'father' stood by her; he did sway a little and even managed to slur his words. When the priest asked; "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Everyone waited for a minute or two before he realised he was on; he threw an arm into the air and shouted; "I...does...I did.. I do...bollocks!." He was a lousy actor, but cheap enough for this performance.
'Colly' gave his full name; Edward Albert Scarborough Coleville and Alex muttered hers [for this show only] as Alexandra Mary Jones. That would make Owen happy, then realised that the pair was using Owen's real name; they were brother and sister after all. So Miss Jones married Mister Coleville and became 'Lady Coleville; for a very short time only, it was hoped.
'Colly' gripped Alex by the hands and smiled, as he said; "I do." Loud and clear. Alex practically whispered her reply and when the priest said; "You may kiss the bride." 'Colly' really did. The congregation actually started to talk amongst themselves as 'Colly' explored his new wife's mouth; He was more thorough than an orally obsessed dentist. Finally, Alex managed to get his tongue out of her mouth and gasp for breath. She had to forcibly pull his hand from under her dress; another couple of inches and 'Colly' would have hit the jackpot. He gripped her arm and with a broad smile, almost frogmarched her back down the aisle, as the audience applauded the performance. Especially the glimpse of Alex's stocking tops, as she extracted his hand from her crotch.
They posed for some minutes outside the small church as 'Black Bart' took some 'boring' wedding photographs. Alex refused point blank to 'get her tits out' for the wedding album and Bart was a little disappointed by that. Still, he would be in Paris for the honeymoon and he really smiled in anticipation of that assignment. Rice was thrown and the 'happy' couple jumped into their carriage and set off for the French House and a modest reception; then onto Paris by the night ferry.
Alex really had to struggle; her 'husband' had apparently grown more hands. He was back exploring her mouth and thighs - again. She really tried to push him away, but he was having none of that. He gripped her chin, quite hard, and said very quietly and firmly; "You will obey your husband my dear. In all things and you will be submissive, when I want to take pleasure from you." He was a very strong man and Alex soon had bruises on her arms and around her thighs; he just would not take 'NO' for an answer. Finally, she just had to let him grope her or face some hard slaps, which could do real damage to her because of his strength and size.
They arrived at the house and a very distraught Alex was pulled from the carriage; her dress was pushed up and her panties had been ripped from her with some force. 'Colly' had placed them in his pocket. He allowed her a minute or so, to put her breasts back in the bodice and straighten her clothes. She wept openly and he raised his hand to her; "Stop the tears my dear. We don't want to embarrass the guests, now do we?" Alex took a couple of deep breaths and tried to arrange her clothes. She had hand marks on her neck, legs and bum, with finger-marks on her breasts and thighs. Her right shoulder had a bloodied red mark; caused by the 'love bite' that her new husband had inflicted upon her during the one sided struggle.
With a firm grip on her arm, he marched her back into the house past Owen who was standing at the bottom of the stairs. The guests from the church had returned and were joined by other well wishers. Still gripping the silent and tear stained Alex, 'Colly told everyone to enjoy the wedding party. Alex looked at Owen and he mouthed; "I found it. They're working again." He repeated it as 'Colly' released Alex, to shake hands and accept a glass of champagne. Alex whispered to her new husband, that she really needed the bathroom; urgently.
'Colly' grinned; "Of course my darling." and leaned close to her and whispered; "Make sure you clean yourself properly, I've booked a sleeper on the trains and I WILL enjoy your tight little arse and fanny tonight. You have five minutes before I come and get you out." They walked to the side corridor and 'Colly' unlocked the small toilet door and pushed Alex in. He locked it behind her and said simply; "Five minutes girl."
He stood there, arms folded talking to Lord Robert and Ross the artist. They both informed him, that they couldn't find Alex's dopy brother anywhere. 'Colly' just grunted and smiled; "I'm going to have him wed young Lizzie, keep it in the family, so as to speak. He won't get a choice in the matter if he really loves his sister." They all chuckled and finally Sir Edward banged loudly on the toilet door; "Cone on darling. Don't keep our guests waiting. We need to cut the cake, my dear." But there was no answer. He knocked again and there was still no answer. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out the keys and fumbled with the lock, finally opening it. The little room was empty.
'Colly' went a little berserk, at one point he actually pushed over the toilet, causing a minor flood. The window was still intact and had been previously nailed down to hinder any would be burglars. He pulled some of the ceiling down before his friends managed to drag him out. His young bride had simply vanished; from a completely enclosed and secured space. He had the only key and the little room had only one door, which he had stood outside of - the whole time - after pushing his new wife inside.
He collapsed at the foot of the stairs and accepted a large whisky from Ross and cursed loudly. Then slowly rose up and dashed from the house; yelling for a cab. Everyone stood in silence and Michael Good raised his glass; "To a marriage made in fucking heaven." and laughed. Lord Robert sighed and turned to his amazed wife; "Here we go... a fucking again! What is wrong with him. He's fucking nothing like his brother." Lady Gabby nodded and sipped her champagne.
Alex and Owen walked slowly towards the lighthouse in silence. Owen could see that Alex was bruised and upset, so he said nothing, waiting for her to speak. Finally, she stopped at the foot of the steps and stood with both hands on hips and shook her head - with some disbelief - at what had transpired between her and Sir Edward. "A full blown, bloody Jekyll and Hyde. There's no other way to describe the bastard. All nice and then bang! He was like a bloody animal in the carriage back from the church. If we weren't on a public road in an open carriage; the bastard would have raped me - there and then - and he would have really slapped me about, if I hadn't let him grope me. The bastard."
Owen sighed; "I don't think this is the time, but his bloody Valet was more than just a Valet...if you get what I mean." Alex sighed; "That would explain why Mister Michael Good hated my guts, without really knowing me. The first time I encountered him, he called me a bitch and snatched by towel; leaving me bloody stark naked at the top of the stairs." Owen nodded and smiled to himself; he had missed that cracker! But didn't say anything about it. "I think he swung both ways and Michael Good saw you as real serious rival for his lover's affections." Owen said quietly and took hold of her hand, adding; "Let's get you cleaned up. Some brandy will do the trick."
Alex nodded and composed herself as Mr. Harris appeared at the door and stared at the pair. Alex in a wedding dress and Mister Owen in a morning suit; complete with white button hole. Alex saw the look on the big man's face and managed a smile; "It's alright Mr. Harris, we are not hitched. I might be a little crazy, but I'm not insane." She marched up the steps and headed for her rooms, telling Owen that a hot bath and some bloody brandy was in order. Owen dived into the study and found Wilson and Jericho reading. "You won't believe what the fuck happened to us..." He shouted and grabbed the brandy decanter and poured himself a large one.
The dinner conversation was a little subdued and Alex picked at her food. Jericho leaned back in his seat and sipped his wine; "There was a breach of the time line from London, 1881 to London 1981 and I suspect it was Sir Edward. I believe he may be residing in that time period. So he must have a time portal linked between those years. The first place to start would be the French House, but Wilson and I checked it and its clean of time portals. So the portal must be elsewhere. We need to find it and close the damn thing." Wilson nodded; "It has to be somewhere he visits - regularly - in both time periods."
Alex slapped her spoon down and picked up her wine glass - she didn't smile - and sipped for a few seconds, then placed the glass down. "He's father's house in North London. I bet it still exists in 1981, and probably well into the 21st century. His father was an Archaeologist and it was him, that dug up the bloody Judas Stone in Mesopotamia and maybe the time portal object. Owen was clever enough to find the stone in a display cabinet at the the French House. I don't believe that the Bastard knew its real power. That's where we should start; Lord John Coleville's house." Everyone nodded their agreement at that.
Jericho smiled at Alex; "So, I think a visit to the Archaeologists house is our next job. We really need to find and close that time portal. Stop young Mister Jekyll & Hyde from travelling and make him face his fate, in his own time." Alex raised her glass and said quietly; "I demand the first kick, in the bastards nuts, when we catch up with him." Everyone chuckled, raising their glasses and said; "Bloody Amen to that."
9. THE JOHN COLEVILLE MUSEUM.
'Colly' gave his full name; Edward Albert Scarborough Coleville and Alex muttered hers [for this show only] as Alexandra Mary Jones. That would make Owen happy, then realised that the pair was using Owen's real name; they were brother and sister after all. So Miss Jones married Mister Coleville and became 'Lady Coleville; for a very short time only, it was hoped.
'Colly' gripped Alex by the hands and smiled, as he said; "I do." Loud and clear. Alex practically whispered her reply and when the priest said; "You may kiss the bride." 'Colly' really did. The congregation actually started to talk amongst themselves as 'Colly' explored his new wife's mouth; He was more thorough than an orally obsessed dentist. Finally, Alex managed to get his tongue out of her mouth and gasp for breath. She had to forcibly pull his hand from under her dress; another couple of inches and 'Colly' would have hit the jackpot. He gripped her arm and with a broad smile, almost frogmarched her back down the aisle, as the audience applauded the performance. Especially the glimpse of Alex's stocking tops, as she extracted his hand from her crotch.
They posed for some minutes outside the small church as 'Black Bart' took some 'boring' wedding photographs. Alex refused point blank to 'get her tits out' for the wedding album and Bart was a little disappointed by that. Still, he would be in Paris for the honeymoon and he really smiled in anticipation of that assignment. Rice was thrown and the 'happy' couple jumped into their carriage and set off for the French House and a modest reception; then onto Paris by the night ferry.
Alex really had to struggle; her 'husband' had apparently grown more hands. He was back exploring her mouth and thighs - again. She really tried to push him away, but he was having none of that. He gripped her chin, quite hard, and said very quietly and firmly; "You will obey your husband my dear. In all things and you will be submissive, when I want to take pleasure from you." He was a very strong man and Alex soon had bruises on her arms and around her thighs; he just would not take 'NO' for an answer. Finally, she just had to let him grope her or face some hard slaps, which could do real damage to her because of his strength and size.
They arrived at the house and a very distraught Alex was pulled from the carriage; her dress was pushed up and her panties had been ripped from her with some force. 'Colly' had placed them in his pocket. He allowed her a minute or so, to put her breasts back in the bodice and straighten her clothes. She wept openly and he raised his hand to her; "Stop the tears my dear. We don't want to embarrass the guests, now do we?" Alex took a couple of deep breaths and tried to arrange her clothes. She had hand marks on her neck, legs and bum, with finger-marks on her breasts and thighs. Her right shoulder had a bloodied red mark; caused by the 'love bite' that her new husband had inflicted upon her during the one sided struggle.
With a firm grip on her arm, he marched her back into the house past Owen who was standing at the bottom of the stairs. The guests from the church had returned and were joined by other well wishers. Still gripping the silent and tear stained Alex, 'Colly told everyone to enjoy the wedding party. Alex looked at Owen and he mouthed; "I found it. They're working again." He repeated it as 'Colly' released Alex, to shake hands and accept a glass of champagne. Alex whispered to her new husband, that she really needed the bathroom; urgently.
'Colly' grinned; "Of course my darling." and leaned close to her and whispered; "Make sure you clean yourself properly, I've booked a sleeper on the trains and I WILL enjoy your tight little arse and fanny tonight. You have five minutes before I come and get you out." They walked to the side corridor and 'Colly' unlocked the small toilet door and pushed Alex in. He locked it behind her and said simply; "Five minutes girl."
He stood there, arms folded talking to Lord Robert and Ross the artist. They both informed him, that they couldn't find Alex's dopy brother anywhere. 'Colly' just grunted and smiled; "I'm going to have him wed young Lizzie, keep it in the family, so as to speak. He won't get a choice in the matter if he really loves his sister." They all chuckled and finally Sir Edward banged loudly on the toilet door; "Cone on darling. Don't keep our guests waiting. We need to cut the cake, my dear." But there was no answer. He knocked again and there was still no answer. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out the keys and fumbled with the lock, finally opening it. The little room was empty.
'Colly' went a little berserk, at one point he actually pushed over the toilet, causing a minor flood. The window was still intact and had been previously nailed down to hinder any would be burglars. He pulled some of the ceiling down before his friends managed to drag him out. His young bride had simply vanished; from a completely enclosed and secured space. He had the only key and the little room had only one door, which he had stood outside of - the whole time - after pushing his new wife inside.
He collapsed at the foot of the stairs and accepted a large whisky from Ross and cursed loudly. Then slowly rose up and dashed from the house; yelling for a cab. Everyone stood in silence and Michael Good raised his glass; "To a marriage made in fucking heaven." and laughed. Lord Robert sighed and turned to his amazed wife; "Here we go... a fucking again! What is wrong with him. He's fucking nothing like his brother." Lady Gabby nodded and sipped her champagne.
Alex and Owen walked slowly towards the lighthouse in silence. Owen could see that Alex was bruised and upset, so he said nothing, waiting for her to speak. Finally, she stopped at the foot of the steps and stood with both hands on hips and shook her head - with some disbelief - at what had transpired between her and Sir Edward. "A full blown, bloody Jekyll and Hyde. There's no other way to describe the bastard. All nice and then bang! He was like a bloody animal in the carriage back from the church. If we weren't on a public road in an open carriage; the bastard would have raped me - there and then - and he would have really slapped me about, if I hadn't let him grope me. The bastard."
Owen sighed; "I don't think this is the time, but his bloody Valet was more than just a Valet...if you get what I mean." Alex sighed; "That would explain why Mister Michael Good hated my guts, without really knowing me. The first time I encountered him, he called me a bitch and snatched by towel; leaving me bloody stark naked at the top of the stairs." Owen nodded and smiled to himself; he had missed that cracker! But didn't say anything about it. "I think he swung both ways and Michael Good saw you as real serious rival for his lover's affections." Owen said quietly and took hold of her hand, adding; "Let's get you cleaned up. Some brandy will do the trick."
Alex nodded and composed herself as Mr. Harris appeared at the door and stared at the pair. Alex in a wedding dress and Mister Owen in a morning suit; complete with white button hole. Alex saw the look on the big man's face and managed a smile; "It's alright Mr. Harris, we are not hitched. I might be a little crazy, but I'm not insane." She marched up the steps and headed for her rooms, telling Owen that a hot bath and some bloody brandy was in order. Owen dived into the study and found Wilson and Jericho reading. "You won't believe what the fuck happened to us..." He shouted and grabbed the brandy decanter and poured himself a large one.
The dinner conversation was a little subdued and Alex picked at her food. Jericho leaned back in his seat and sipped his wine; "There was a breach of the time line from London, 1881 to London 1981 and I suspect it was Sir Edward. I believe he may be residing in that time period. So he must have a time portal linked between those years. The first place to start would be the French House, but Wilson and I checked it and its clean of time portals. So the portal must be elsewhere. We need to find it and close the damn thing." Wilson nodded; "It has to be somewhere he visits - regularly - in both time periods."
Alex slapped her spoon down and picked up her wine glass - she didn't smile - and sipped for a few seconds, then placed the glass down. "He's father's house in North London. I bet it still exists in 1981, and probably well into the 21st century. His father was an Archaeologist and it was him, that dug up the bloody Judas Stone in Mesopotamia and maybe the time portal object. Owen was clever enough to find the stone in a display cabinet at the the French House. I don't believe that the Bastard knew its real power. That's where we should start; Lord John Coleville's house." Everyone nodded their agreement at that.
Jericho smiled at Alex; "So, I think a visit to the Archaeologists house is our next job. We really need to find and close that time portal. Stop young Mister Jekyll & Hyde from travelling and make him face his fate, in his own time." Alex raised her glass and said quietly; "I demand the first kick, in the bastards nuts, when we catch up with him." Everyone chuckled, raising their glasses and said; "Bloody Amen to that."
9. THE JOHN COLEVILLE MUSEUM.
"Five bloody pounds each. It's not exactly, the bloody Victoria & Albert is it." Owen moaned and stared hard at the small booklet he had been given. Jericho just sighed and the small party walked into the first set of rooms. The place was full o artefacts from ancient Mesopotamia and the near east. Hanging alone at the far end of the room, was a huge portrait of Lord John Coleville. Alex stood under it and folded her arms; "He looks exactly like an older version of the bastard." She said softly. Wilson chuckled; "I take it when you say 'the bastard', your always referring to Sir Edward?" Alex just smiled and the team walked on.
Owen had his mirror discretely tucked under his booklet; "Nothing yet." He said and stopped before yet another portrait. He called Alex over and pointed up to the picture; "Who the fuck does that look like?" Alex really did smile; it was her!
Wilson and Jericho joined them and Wilson grinned; "Sweet Jesus Alex; That's the best arse on a Victorian reclining nude I've seen. Will you marry me immediately?" Alex gave him a single digit salute, but smiled; "That young artist must have finished the job - despite me running off - and he gave me ten pounds for posing naked. Well, naked apart from a white sheet. The bastard must have still paid him for it."
Jericho peered at the little brass plaque beneath the picture and chuckled; "Lady Alexandra Coleville circa 1881. I must say Alexandra; you do pose well." Owen looked up from his guide book and smiled; "Says here, she's the famous 'vanishing lady in white' of the Coleville family and quite a legend. Was married to Sir Edward Coleville for approximately forty minutes before disappearing totally and was never seen or heard of again. Her true identity remains a total mystery and has been subject to much speculation, as to who, she really was."
"Mystery bloody solved." Alex muttered and the little group moved on. There was a portrait of Lord John's son 'The bastard'. Alex had to be restrained from picking up an ancient vase and slinging it at the smiling Sir Edward. "Now, now young lady. Best behaviour please." Jericho patted Alex's arm and gently pulled the vase from her grip and replaced it on the pedestal; the group moved on again. They were the only people in the bloody place [as Owen put it] and caught the attention of the young woman, who was the staff member, on duty today.
Ms Jane Holiness wandered over and tried to make herself available for questions; any bloody questions. She was bored out of her mind and suddenly having four people, who really appeared interested in the dull old place, was a real challenge. She asked - twice - if she could help anyone. Wilson switched on his charm and asked the keen young woman about Sir Edward. Now she really did smile; "Oh, quite a handsome man for the period - or any period - dashing and charming. A real gent apparently. He was sadly, married to the infamous 'vanishing lady in white' for a very short time. He's portrait, is real magnet for women and girls, who come here. Those lovely blue eyes seem to follow you around. "
"Charming and a gentleman, my bloody arse..." Alex didn't finish her sentence because Jericho gently pulled her to one side and just smiled at her. She shrugged her shoulders and said quietly; "just saying. You can't judge someone from a bloody picture; stupid tart." Luckily young Ms Jane hadn't heard what Alex said and continued; "The daft woman left him broken hearted, running off on their wedding day. My opinion is, that she was ashamed about her dirty past."
Jericho asked very nicely, who the current Curator was. Ms Jane smiled and - again - gestured towards the staff only door. "Why its Doctor Michael Good. He's only been here a few months. He replaced Mr. Warrington - who sadly died - and he's very popular with staff and visitors." She clasped her hands together; "At least the family was spared the scandal and disgrace of the woman's departure. Nothing was said about her disappearance in any of the newspapers or magazines at the time. They just reported the marriage. The secret was kept by the family until the late 1950's and by then; no one was really interested because the Coleville line had died out."
The van was parked opposite the French House and Jericho sat reading his mirror and grunted with satisfaction; "According to Human Records, Michael Good was murdered in 1881, just weeks after we returned him to that time. So no changes to the Time Line." Alex leaned over the steering wheel and stared at the old house; it really didn't hold any pleasant memories for her. Well, except one maybe.
Owen had his mirror discretely tucked under his booklet; "Nothing yet." He said and stopped before yet another portrait. He called Alex over and pointed up to the picture; "Who the fuck does that look like?" Alex really did smile; it was her!
Wilson and Jericho joined them and Wilson grinned; "Sweet Jesus Alex; That's the best arse on a Victorian reclining nude I've seen. Will you marry me immediately?" Alex gave him a single digit salute, but smiled; "That young artist must have finished the job - despite me running off - and he gave me ten pounds for posing naked. Well, naked apart from a white sheet. The bastard must have still paid him for it."
Alex stared at the painting and remembered the day it was painted. She had promised never to look up the young man in Human Records . But something inside of her wanted to know - really know - and either way, knowing or not knowing - she would be sad.
Jericho peered at the little brass plaque beneath the picture and chuckled; "Lady Alexandra Coleville circa 1881. I must say Alexandra; you do pose well." Owen looked up from his guide book and smiled; "Says here, she's the famous 'vanishing lady in white' of the Coleville family and quite a legend. Was married to Sir Edward Coleville for approximately forty minutes before disappearing totally and was never seen or heard of again. Her true identity remains a total mystery and has been subject to much speculation, as to who, she really was."
"Mystery bloody solved." Alex muttered and the little group moved on. There was a portrait of Lord John's son 'The bastard'. Alex had to be restrained from picking up an ancient vase and slinging it at the smiling Sir Edward. "Now, now young lady. Best behaviour please." Jericho patted Alex's arm and gently pulled the vase from her grip and replaced it on the pedestal; the group moved on again. They were the only people in the bloody place [as Owen put it] and caught the attention of the young woman, who was the staff member, on duty today.
Ms Jane Holiness wandered over and tried to make herself available for questions; any bloody questions. She was bored out of her mind and suddenly having four people, who really appeared interested in the dull old place, was a real challenge. She asked - twice - if she could help anyone. Wilson switched on his charm and asked the keen young woman about Sir Edward. Now she really did smile; "Oh, quite a handsome man for the period - or any period - dashing and charming. A real gent apparently. He was sadly, married to the infamous 'vanishing lady in white' for a very short time. He's portrait, is real magnet for women and girls, who come here. Those lovely blue eyes seem to follow you around. "
"Charming and a gentleman, my bloody arse..." Alex didn't finish her sentence because Jericho gently pulled her to one side and just smiled at her. She shrugged her shoulders and said quietly; "just saying. You can't judge someone from a bloody picture; stupid tart." Luckily young Ms Jane hadn't heard what Alex said and continued; "The daft woman left him broken hearted, running off on their wedding day. My opinion is, that she was ashamed about her dirty past."
Everyone was suddenly interested in that statement. Jericho pressed her for details. Ms Jane looked about and lowered her voice; "The painting is not the only image we have of the woman in white. But its the only picture that can be displayed that's - frankly - not pornographic." Ms jane really did have their undivided attention; especially a shocked Alex.
"Please do tell." Wilson said; smiling - no, he was grinning - and Ms Jane gestured towards the stairs marked 'Staff Only'; "In the the attic archives, there are a collection of photographs, sketches and drawings of the woman, all from 1881, the year of the failed marriage. They are quite explicit for the time. She was clearly some kind of 'lady of the night' [Victorian for prostitute] who managed to snare the dashing young Sir Edward with her obvious evil charms."
"Keep it shut." Was all Jericho said to Alex and she folded her arms in silence. "They are - obviously - not for public view. The Museum Curator has been asked on numerous occasions to display them. But he will only let true, accredited academics view them. Even members of staff cannot view them." Alex sighed; that's why the daft woman, hasn't recognised her from them and she was relieved, that the images weren't on public display. She couldn't actually believe that they still existed!
"Please do tell." Wilson said; smiling - no, he was grinning - and Ms Jane gestured towards the stairs marked 'Staff Only'; "In the the attic archives, there are a collection of photographs, sketches and drawings of the woman, all from 1881, the year of the failed marriage. They are quite explicit for the time. She was clearly some kind of 'lady of the night' [Victorian for prostitute] who managed to snare the dashing young Sir Edward with her obvious evil charms."
"Keep it shut." Was all Jericho said to Alex and she folded her arms in silence. "They are - obviously - not for public view. The Museum Curator has been asked on numerous occasions to display them. But he will only let true, accredited academics view them. Even members of staff cannot view them." Alex sighed; that's why the daft woman, hasn't recognised her from them and she was relieved, that the images weren't on public display. She couldn't actually believe that they still existed!
Jericho asked very nicely, who the current Curator was. Ms Jane smiled and - again - gestured towards the staff only door. "Why its Doctor Michael Good. He's only been here a few months. He replaced Mr. Warrington - who sadly died - and he's very popular with staff and visitors." She clasped her hands together; "At least the family was spared the scandal and disgrace of the woman's departure. Nothing was said about her disappearance in any of the newspapers or magazines at the time. They just reported the marriage. The secret was kept by the family until the late 1950's and by then; no one was really interested because the Coleville line had died out."
Owen grunted; "If the line died out, who set the museum up?" Ms jane smiled; at last some really interested people. "Why it was a Mrs. Kathleen Gamble, a rich widow by all accounts and a family friend. It was due to her patronage that the Coleville Collection survives intact. She's bit of a mystery herself; nothing is really known about her. She died in America during the 1960's apparently. But her trust fund keeps the museum afloat, even to this day."
Alex opened her mouth in total surprise and Jericho hurried her away to a big glass cabinet that contained large, ancient clay pots. "Keep a lid on it Alexandra. this could be the lead we're looking for." Alex calmed down and nodded. "The portal must be here." She said quietly and Jericho agreed. The problem was finding the damn thing in a place like this. Alex couldn't believe that old Kate had been a time traveller too! - It appears that the team had really only scratched the surface, of the goings on at the 'French House'.
Wilson asked the woman about 'Doctor Good' and was he in today. Ms jane nodded; "The Doctor is in his office." She gestured - for a third time - to the staff door and Wilson thanked Ms Jane for all her assistance. They gathered around the huge ornate doorway and held a brief conference. All Owen added to the the discussion was; 'How the hell, do we get to see the pictures of Alex in those pornographic poses?' That was greeted by silence and a really nasty look from Alex. Owen just shrugged his shoulders, muttering; "I only asked for Christ sake."
It was decided to continue their tour of the museum; the place was mow the centre of their investigation. Jericho made the decision, that the time was right to employ a drastic measure; he would stop time [for the maximum amount allowed to a Temporal Inspector] and explain to the Duty Time Controller later. They dashed past the still Ms Jane and up the 'Staff Only' stairs to the attic's, which now served as archive's and offices. They easily found the door marked 'Curator' and pushed in. Alex was gently restrained by Wilson from throwing a punch at the frozen 'Doctor Michael Good'. Jericho smiled at her; "I take it that's Sir Edward's Valet from 1881?" Alex nodded; "The other bastard." She said and Wilson chuckled; "There was certainly a lot of bastards back then."
"Apart from that bloody stupid little beard, which makes him look like the tosser he is, that's him." Alex said, with a little anger in her voice, that didn't go un-noticed by her colleagues. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, baby sister." Wilson murmured, smiling. Jericho leaned over the 'Doctor' and tapped the ledger he was reading. "There are some interesting dates here, with amounts of money in English pounds. Do you know any of these names from back then Alex?" Jericho asked and Alex picked up the ledger and rubbed her chin; thinking. "None of the names jump out to me." She turned the page and stopped; "Sweet Jesus, take a look at who paid a thousand pounds to Sir Edward in August 1884. and ...what the fuck!" She looked up and shook her head; "That's bloody impossible, it's dated 1884 and I was gone in 1881."
Wilson looked over her shoulder and whistled. He read out the entry; "The Prince of Wales; one thousand pounds. 9th August, 1884. Alex had to submit to anal sex before I managed to get there. She moaned about that, but was happy with the necklace I bought her. Eddy.". They all stared at Alex, who turned another page and Wilson read out the next entry; "Lord Wallace Cumberland; Five hundred pounds. 3rd October, 1884. Straight forward trick, Alex happy, she only had to let the old bugger feel her up. She wanted and received a diamond ring for that performance. Eddy."
Wilson took the ledger from a shocked and almost speechless Alex and flicked through the pages; "There's loads of entries, amounting to some serious money for the time and nearly everyone mentions Alex being paid to perform." He read the last entry and didn't smile; "Sir Norman Juppe-House; 7th February, 1885. The trick went badly wrong and Alex was badly injured. I think she will not make it. Eddy." He dropped the ledger back on the desk. Jericho tapped the book; "It doesn't make sense, Alex could not have been there; on any of those
dates. It's impossible, so what the hell is happening here?"
Owen grinned broadly and slapped his hand down on the big wooden chest of office drawers by the stationery cupboard door. "Found them!" He gleefully pulled the thick brown envelope out and unwound the red string that sealed it. "It's marked Alexandra Coleville - 1881. This must be the pictures." He tipped the contents onto the desk and everyone picked up a picture, even Alex. Wilson smiled; "The one on the top of the stairs is pretty good. Nice pose, squatting down with your legs wide open, holding your panties in one hand." He tapped the picture and smiled; broadly; "Pity its not you. That definitely takes something away from it."
The team checked every picture and drawing; it was a very pretty young woman, in some very naughty poses; but it certainly wasn't Alex. Owen groaned in utter disappointment and received a slap on the hand from a very relieved Alex. "Same bloody name; different girl." Muttered Wilson. "He must have found a substitute girl and used my name - his wife's name - to lure the punters in. That makes sense; the papers would have carried the story of the wedding and so, he had to let the girl use my name, or the punters would be suspicious." Alex reasoned and picked up the photo's again. "Poor bloody bitch, if she's under that bastards control."
Jericho jerked a thumb to the door; "Let's go. We need to find that bloody portal. Owen, you've your mirror out, anything in here?" Owen checked his mirror and shook his head. "Nothing, except that the good doctor has a bloody time portal in his pocket!" Wilson laughed outright; "This bloody case has more twists and turns than a snake with the shits." Everyone agreed with that; laughing.
Jericho searched Michael Good and gently pulled a small female figurine from his pocket; it was very ancient. "Lord John must have found it during his excavations in Mesopotamia." Jericho searched further and pulled a copy of the local paper dated 198i. [The current year] and in the same pocket; an engraved cigarette case inscribed 'to Eddy, Christmas 1881 from Harold.'
Jericho held both up; "The paper for onward travel to 1981 and the cigarette case for return to 1881. Put one with the figurine and your off. Simple." He pushed everything into his coat pocket. "Now, Wilson, you take our time travelling friend back to 1881 and dump him outside the 'French House'. That will put an end to his travelling out of his own time. Take Owen with you. Alex and I will try and locate Sir Edward - sorry, the bastard - in this time period."
Wilson nodded and operated his mirror; he, Michael Good and Owen disappeared. Alex and Jericho walked back down the stairs and into the museum. Alex stopped and stared at the all the portraits and pictures displayed about the place. "That's funny, I can't see any painting or picture of the Bastards brother; Harold. That's strange isn't it? There's several of HIM, but not the brother." Jericho chuckled; "Perhaps he was the black sheep of the family!" Alex sighed; "For Christ sake, then he would make Jack the bloody ripper, look like the Pope."
Jericho restarted time and they left the museum and jumped into their van. Alex was happy to drive and pulled away. The small, expensive sports car also pulled out the car park and followed. Sir Edward had been right in his deductions that Alex would eventually go to his father's old house.
10. THE LUCKIEST WOMAN ALIVE?
It was decided to continue their tour of the museum; the place was mow the centre of their investigation. Jericho made the decision, that the time was right to employ a drastic measure; he would stop time [for the maximum amount allowed to a Temporal Inspector] and explain to the Duty Time Controller later. They dashed past the still Ms Jane and up the 'Staff Only' stairs to the attic's, which now served as archive's and offices. They easily found the door marked 'Curator' and pushed in. Alex was gently restrained by Wilson from throwing a punch at the frozen 'Doctor Michael Good'. Jericho smiled at her; "I take it that's Sir Edward's Valet from 1881?" Alex nodded; "The other bastard." She said and Wilson chuckled; "There was certainly a lot of bastards back then."
"Apart from that bloody stupid little beard, which makes him look like the tosser he is, that's him." Alex said, with a little anger in her voice, that didn't go un-noticed by her colleagues. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, baby sister." Wilson murmured, smiling. Jericho leaned over the 'Doctor' and tapped the ledger he was reading. "There are some interesting dates here, with amounts of money in English pounds. Do you know any of these names from back then Alex?" Jericho asked and Alex picked up the ledger and rubbed her chin; thinking. "None of the names jump out to me." She turned the page and stopped; "Sweet Jesus, take a look at who paid a thousand pounds to Sir Edward in August 1884. and ...what the fuck!" She looked up and shook her head; "That's bloody impossible, it's dated 1884 and I was gone in 1881."
Wilson looked over her shoulder and whistled. He read out the entry; "The Prince of Wales; one thousand pounds. 9th August, 1884. Alex had to submit to anal sex before I managed to get there. She moaned about that, but was happy with the necklace I bought her. Eddy.". They all stared at Alex, who turned another page and Wilson read out the next entry; "Lord Wallace Cumberland; Five hundred pounds. 3rd October, 1884. Straight forward trick, Alex happy, she only had to let the old bugger feel her up. She wanted and received a diamond ring for that performance. Eddy."
Wilson took the ledger from a shocked and almost speechless Alex and flicked through the pages; "There's loads of entries, amounting to some serious money for the time and nearly everyone mentions Alex being paid to perform." He read the last entry and didn't smile; "Sir Norman Juppe-House; 7th February, 1885. The trick went badly wrong and Alex was badly injured. I think she will not make it. Eddy." He dropped the ledger back on the desk. Jericho tapped the book; "It doesn't make sense, Alex could not have been there; on any of those
dates. It's impossible, so what the hell is happening here?"
Owen grinned broadly and slapped his hand down on the big wooden chest of office drawers by the stationery cupboard door. "Found them!" He gleefully pulled the thick brown envelope out and unwound the red string that sealed it. "It's marked Alexandra Coleville - 1881. This must be the pictures." He tipped the contents onto the desk and everyone picked up a picture, even Alex. Wilson smiled; "The one on the top of the stairs is pretty good. Nice pose, squatting down with your legs wide open, holding your panties in one hand." He tapped the picture and smiled; broadly; "Pity its not you. That definitely takes something away from it."
The team checked every picture and drawing; it was a very pretty young woman, in some very naughty poses; but it certainly wasn't Alex. Owen groaned in utter disappointment and received a slap on the hand from a very relieved Alex. "Same bloody name; different girl." Muttered Wilson. "He must have found a substitute girl and used my name - his wife's name - to lure the punters in. That makes sense; the papers would have carried the story of the wedding and so, he had to let the girl use my name, or the punters would be suspicious." Alex reasoned and picked up the photo's again. "Poor bloody bitch, if she's under that bastards control."
Jericho jerked a thumb to the door; "Let's go. We need to find that bloody portal. Owen, you've your mirror out, anything in here?" Owen checked his mirror and shook his head. "Nothing, except that the good doctor has a bloody time portal in his pocket!" Wilson laughed outright; "This bloody case has more twists and turns than a snake with the shits." Everyone agreed with that; laughing.
Jericho searched Michael Good and gently pulled a small female figurine from his pocket; it was very ancient. "Lord John must have found it during his excavations in Mesopotamia." Jericho searched further and pulled a copy of the local paper dated 198i. [The current year] and in the same pocket; an engraved cigarette case inscribed 'to Eddy, Christmas 1881 from Harold.'
Jericho held both up; "The paper for onward travel to 1981 and the cigarette case for return to 1881. Put one with the figurine and your off. Simple." He pushed everything into his coat pocket. "Now, Wilson, you take our time travelling friend back to 1881 and dump him outside the 'French House'. That will put an end to his travelling out of his own time. Take Owen with you. Alex and I will try and locate Sir Edward - sorry, the bastard - in this time period."
Wilson nodded and operated his mirror; he, Michael Good and Owen disappeared. Alex and Jericho walked back down the stairs and into the museum. Alex stopped and stared at the all the portraits and pictures displayed about the place. "That's funny, I can't see any painting or picture of the Bastards brother; Harold. That's strange isn't it? There's several of HIM, but not the brother." Jericho chuckled; "Perhaps he was the black sheep of the family!" Alex sighed; "For Christ sake, then he would make Jack the bloody ripper, look like the Pope."
Jericho restarted time and they left the museum and jumped into their van. Alex was happy to drive and pulled away. The small, expensive sports car also pulled out the car park and followed. Sir Edward had been right in his deductions that Alex would eventually go to his father's old house.
10. THE LUCKIEST WOMAN ALIVE?
The van was parked opposite the French House and Jericho sat reading his mirror and grunted with satisfaction; "According to Human Records, Michael Good was murdered in 1881, just weeks after we returned him to that time. So no changes to the Time Line." Alex leaned over the steering wheel and stared at the old house; it really didn't hold any pleasant memories for her. Well, except one maybe.
Now all they had to find, was Sir Edward himself and return him to his own time. They had closed his time portal and taken possession of the time portal object; the figurine. He was trapped in this era.
Jericho grunted and tapped his mirror; "I did a check on Sir Edward's brother; he died in 1889 in London. No cause of death recorded and his soul was quarantined for three hundred years! That's a serious penalty, what the fuck did he do..." He never finished because Alex slapped his arm; "The little sports car, parked at the entrance to the next street, guess whose sitting in it, bold as bloody brass!" Jericho stared across and didn't smile; "It's the Bastard." Alex nodded and switched off the engine. She jumped in her seat as Owen stuck his head in the window; she hadn't seen him and Wilson appear. "Guess who's sitting in that little..." Owen said and jerked a thumb towards the little sports car. "I bloody know." Was all Alex said.
Alex and Jericho jumped from the van and joined Wilson and Owen on the pavement. "Come on, let's get this done and home for dinner." Muttered Jericho and walked directly over to Sir Edward's car, followed by the team. Edward jumped from the sports car and stood, arms folded leaning against it. "For fuck sake don't smile." Wilson said quietly, but Sir Edward grinned and held out his hand to Alex; "I am so glad to see you again my dear...." He never finished the sentence because Alex - without a word being said - kicked him straight in his testicles. He collapsed upon the damp pavement and vomited.
Alex stood over him and booted him hard in the back, then kicked him hard up the arse. She walked back to the van; not saying a word. Owen stared down at the young man rolling and crying in his own vomit and said quietly to Wilson; "Remind me never, ever to upset our Alex." Wilson nodded; "Spot on baby brother." Jericho just sighed and gestured to Sir Edward; "Get him up and drop him off back in 1881. Tell him that his time travelling days are over and he got what he deserved for treating our Alex that way." Wilson and Owen smiled and hauled the babbling young man to his feet. "Come on my dear. Time to go home; for good." Wilson chuckled and they were gone.
Jericho walked back to the van and jumped in; "Find a nice empty stretch of road and I call Supplies to pick up the van." He patted Alex's hand on the steering wheel; "Feel better for that?" He asked. Alex shook her head; "No, not really. I'm not a violent person." She smiled at Jericho who just laughed outright; "Not a violent person my arse!" Alex started the engine and the van pulled away, leaving the French House behind.
Alex was in a good mood at dinner and really enjoyed the Chicken in white wine sauce. Wilson and Owen sat quietly opposite her and exchanged glances, finally they tossed a coin and Owen called 'heads', It was tails much to Wilson's relief and amusement. "Go on you lost. You tell her." Owen sighed and pushed the useless coin back into his pocket. "Tell HER what?" Alex asked, sipping her wine.
Owen smiled and lifted his wine glass; "Did you notice something funny about Sir Edward and what the staff said about him?" Alex leaned back in her chair; "Oh yeah, I noticed something funny about the bastard; he knocked me about and tried to rape me. I had to walk about showing my crotch and just for a treat, at dinner time I had to get my bloody boobs out. Yeah, I had a real hysterical time. What's your point?" Alex spoke with a little anger and some real sarcasm in her voice. Owen just nodded and sipped his wine. Wilson leaned across the table; "Since numb nuts here is incapable of recounting the story properly I will." Alex nodded; now a little intrigued.
Wilson sighed; "It wasn't Sir Edward that knocked you about and tried to have sex with you against your will. He actually never did lay a hand or anything else on the girls in the French House. He was straight forward and honest with you, when you met and spoke together. He would have kept his word - he always did - and you would have had a fare share of the blackmail money. It was his twin brother; Harold that assaulted you, groped you in the wedding coach and at the dinner party. He and Harold are identical twins; no-one could tell them apart."
"So you kicked the wrong bloody man in the balls my girl." Owen said and finished his wine, adding; "That's what we never caught on to; why the staff referred to 'the master' as Sir Edward or 'Colly' - which was Harold's childhood nickname and short for Coleville. We never caught on that everyone was talking about two different men. Sir Edward and Sir Harold." Alex slumped back in her seat; "I thought he had a Jekyll and Hyde character. A real bad case of it." She said softly. "So it was Harold that ..." She stopped and sipped her drink, finishing her words; "He was the bastard that tried to rape me. Sir Edward never did actually lay a hand on me; just like the other girls. Poor young Jessica was right about him after all."
Owen didn't smile and topped up his and Alex's glass; "You haven't heard the best or worse - bit yet. Sir Edward died in France in 1914, just before the First World War and his soul was collected. He was allowed to jump immediately with no quarantine imposed." Alex was a little confused by that; "But he murdered Michael Good - his valet - he should have received some kind of quarantine for that?" Owen shook his head; "Again, that was evil Harold. The twins were so alike that even Michael, who I suspect loved Sir Edward, couldn't tell them apart. But, of course, Dispatches knew the truth."
Alex sighed and almost smiled; "So his twin brother Harold was bit of an evil bugger. His picture and portrait were hanging at the Museum, except I thought they were all of Sir Edward." She actually chuckled. Wilson re-filled his wine glass and handed the bottle to Jericho. He gestured to Alex's glass; "You best refill that. You will need it or maybe even a brandy." Alex smiled; "I always need a brandy. Go on, what is it?" Wilson tapped his glass with a finger; "Harold died in 1889. His father Lord John poisoned his brandy and the family Doctor signed off the death as Pneumonia. He was buried very quietly and with little fuss. You'll understand that, when I tell you just how lucky you were to escape from him. Really lucky to escape with your life and avoid a horrendous death. "
Alex folded her arms and stared at Wilson, who sipped his wine; "The killings ended in 1889 because Sir Harold - who was a failed medical student - died at his distraught and desperate father's hands. You see, his father knew that Harold was Jack the Ripper." Wilson raised his glass; "To the luckiest lady alive - well, sort of alive!" Alex raised her glass in stunned silence; the horrendous 'What if's' crowding into her mind. She realised that Sir Edward was suppose to marry her, but was called away and so Harold - 'Colly' - stepped in; no one would notice the switch, and it didn't really matter who married Alex; as long as she was 'Lady Coleville' for the purposes of the 'Outraged Husband Scam'. The thought of a 'honeymoon' with bloody Jack the Ripper made Alex shudder and she really did need a brandy.
"I should really apologise to poor Sir Edward. He really did treat me like a lady; like he said he would." Alex sighed and sipped her brandy that Mr. Harris had handed her. She grimaced a little; thinking about her foot crashing into his testicles. Then booting him up the arse for good measure. "Oh dear, what a terrible mistake." She said and Wilson chuckled; "Now that was some bad case of mistaken identity, girl."
Everyone laughed at that; except Alex, who felt a little guilty and sad about poor Sir Edward. His only fault was having a murdering, sexually perverted psychopath for a twin brother!
Jericho grunted and tapped his mirror; "I did a check on Sir Edward's brother; he died in 1889 in London. No cause of death recorded and his soul was quarantined for three hundred years! That's a serious penalty, what the fuck did he do..." He never finished because Alex slapped his arm; "The little sports car, parked at the entrance to the next street, guess whose sitting in it, bold as bloody brass!" Jericho stared across and didn't smile; "It's the Bastard." Alex nodded and switched off the engine. She jumped in her seat as Owen stuck his head in the window; she hadn't seen him and Wilson appear. "Guess who's sitting in that little..." Owen said and jerked a thumb towards the little sports car. "I bloody know." Was all Alex said.
Alex and Jericho jumped from the van and joined Wilson and Owen on the pavement. "Come on, let's get this done and home for dinner." Muttered Jericho and walked directly over to Sir Edward's car, followed by the team. Edward jumped from the sports car and stood, arms folded leaning against it. "For fuck sake don't smile." Wilson said quietly, but Sir Edward grinned and held out his hand to Alex; "I am so glad to see you again my dear...." He never finished the sentence because Alex - without a word being said - kicked him straight in his testicles. He collapsed upon the damp pavement and vomited.
Alex stood over him and booted him hard in the back, then kicked him hard up the arse. She walked back to the van; not saying a word. Owen stared down at the young man rolling and crying in his own vomit and said quietly to Wilson; "Remind me never, ever to upset our Alex." Wilson nodded; "Spot on baby brother." Jericho just sighed and gestured to Sir Edward; "Get him up and drop him off back in 1881. Tell him that his time travelling days are over and he got what he deserved for treating our Alex that way." Wilson and Owen smiled and hauled the babbling young man to his feet. "Come on my dear. Time to go home; for good." Wilson chuckled and they were gone.
Jericho walked back to the van and jumped in; "Find a nice empty stretch of road and I call Supplies to pick up the van." He patted Alex's hand on the steering wheel; "Feel better for that?" He asked. Alex shook her head; "No, not really. I'm not a violent person." She smiled at Jericho who just laughed outright; "Not a violent person my arse!" Alex started the engine and the van pulled away, leaving the French House behind.
Alex was in a good mood at dinner and really enjoyed the Chicken in white wine sauce. Wilson and Owen sat quietly opposite her and exchanged glances, finally they tossed a coin and Owen called 'heads', It was tails much to Wilson's relief and amusement. "Go on you lost. You tell her." Owen sighed and pushed the useless coin back into his pocket. "Tell HER what?" Alex asked, sipping her wine.
Owen smiled and lifted his wine glass; "Did you notice something funny about Sir Edward and what the staff said about him?" Alex leaned back in her chair; "Oh yeah, I noticed something funny about the bastard; he knocked me about and tried to rape me. I had to walk about showing my crotch and just for a treat, at dinner time I had to get my bloody boobs out. Yeah, I had a real hysterical time. What's your point?" Alex spoke with a little anger and some real sarcasm in her voice. Owen just nodded and sipped his wine. Wilson leaned across the table; "Since numb nuts here is incapable of recounting the story properly I will." Alex nodded; now a little intrigued.
Wilson sighed; "It wasn't Sir Edward that knocked you about and tried to have sex with you against your will. He actually never did lay a hand or anything else on the girls in the French House. He was straight forward and honest with you, when you met and spoke together. He would have kept his word - he always did - and you would have had a fare share of the blackmail money. It was his twin brother; Harold that assaulted you, groped you in the wedding coach and at the dinner party. He and Harold are identical twins; no-one could tell them apart."
"So you kicked the wrong bloody man in the balls my girl." Owen said and finished his wine, adding; "That's what we never caught on to; why the staff referred to 'the master' as Sir Edward or 'Colly' - which was Harold's childhood nickname and short for Coleville. We never caught on that everyone was talking about two different men. Sir Edward and Sir Harold." Alex slumped back in her seat; "I thought he had a Jekyll and Hyde character. A real bad case of it." She said softly. "So it was Harold that ..." She stopped and sipped her drink, finishing her words; "He was the bastard that tried to rape me. Sir Edward never did actually lay a hand on me; just like the other girls. Poor young Jessica was right about him after all."
Owen didn't smile and topped up his and Alex's glass; "You haven't heard the best or worse - bit yet. Sir Edward died in France in 1914, just before the First World War and his soul was collected. He was allowed to jump immediately with no quarantine imposed." Alex was a little confused by that; "But he murdered Michael Good - his valet - he should have received some kind of quarantine for that?" Owen shook his head; "Again, that was evil Harold. The twins were so alike that even Michael, who I suspect loved Sir Edward, couldn't tell them apart. But, of course, Dispatches knew the truth."
Alex sighed and almost smiled; "So his twin brother Harold was bit of an evil bugger. His picture and portrait were hanging at the Museum, except I thought they were all of Sir Edward." She actually chuckled. Wilson re-filled his wine glass and handed the bottle to Jericho. He gestured to Alex's glass; "You best refill that. You will need it or maybe even a brandy." Alex smiled; "I always need a brandy. Go on, what is it?" Wilson tapped his glass with a finger; "Harold died in 1889. His father Lord John poisoned his brandy and the family Doctor signed off the death as Pneumonia. He was buried very quietly and with little fuss. You'll understand that, when I tell you just how lucky you were to escape from him. Really lucky to escape with your life and avoid a horrendous death. "
Alex folded her arms and stared at Wilson, who sipped his wine; "The killings ended in 1889 because Sir Harold - who was a failed medical student - died at his distraught and desperate father's hands. You see, his father knew that Harold was Jack the Ripper." Wilson raised his glass; "To the luckiest lady alive - well, sort of alive!" Alex raised her glass in stunned silence; the horrendous 'What if's' crowding into her mind. She realised that Sir Edward was suppose to marry her, but was called away and so Harold - 'Colly' - stepped in; no one would notice the switch, and it didn't really matter who married Alex; as long as she was 'Lady Coleville' for the purposes of the 'Outraged Husband Scam'. The thought of a 'honeymoon' with bloody Jack the Ripper made Alex shudder and she really did need a brandy.
"I should really apologise to poor Sir Edward. He really did treat me like a lady; like he said he would." Alex sighed and sipped her brandy that Mr. Harris had handed her. She grimaced a little; thinking about her foot crashing into his testicles. Then booting him up the arse for good measure. "Oh dear, what a terrible mistake." She said and Wilson chuckled; "Now that was some bad case of mistaken identity, girl."
Everyone laughed at that; except Alex, who felt a little guilty and sad about poor Sir Edward. His only fault was having a murdering, sexually perverted psychopath for a twin brother!
EPILOGUE:
"A very difficult case for the team and especially Alexandra; who was beaten and sexually assaulted. Apparently, she also had a narrow escape from the clutches of the notorious 'Jack The Ripper'. That aside; the Mission was considered a success by Angel Margret and the Team themselves."
W.A.S.
CHARACTERS:
Doctor Ben Roberts retired in 1991 and moved to Spain for his retirement. He had been married four times and had seven children and twenty grandchildren. He contacted Sepsis after being bitten by a dog, outside a Spanish bar. He died in 2002 and his soul was collected and processed.
Inspector Thomas March was quite a man of mystery. The details of his life - apart from his Police service - was unknown. He retired from the police and moved to Kent and lived the life of a practical recluse. Many of his neighbours in the small town didn't even know his name! He had apparently never married or had children. He should have died in April, 1998. But missed his departure date. He is now listed as a 'missing soul'. His case is being investigated by Temporal Inspector Kate Zaskinsky and Team 44. There is no resolution currently.
Sergeant Dave Soames served fifteen years in the Metropolitan Police and left to start his own Security Company. It failed with some serious financial loss to Dave. He managed to survive the debts with the help of his long time partner; John. He worked various jobs until his premature death from Cancer in 1993. His soul was collected and processed.
PC Paul Marshal retired from the Metropolitan Police after some 27 years service. He moved to a small fishing village on the West coast of Ireland and resided there until his death in 2012. He never married and had no children. His soul was collected and processed.
Harry Fellows didn't last long in the building game; he was far too lazy and took to Mini-Cab driving. He soon left that and eventually settled as a Cleaning Supervisor for a posh boarding school. He never married, but had three children. He was found dead on a Sunday morning, when his son turned up, for him to take the boy to football. He had suffered a major stroke. His soul was collected and processed.
Stanley Richard Fletcher, the Carpenter working at the French House in 1981 was tragically killed on holiday in Dorset just two years later. The Caravan's gas heater was faulty and Stan was suffocated. He was taking a rare holiday on his own. His soul was collected and processed.
Eric Smalls, the building site Supervisor at the French House [1981] retired the following year and moved to Spain with his wife Lynda. They enjoyed their retirement together for some years before a vicious and brutal stroke took Eric's life in 1992. His soul was collected and processed.
Miss Jessica Rowling was a 'French Maid' in the house [1881] and was the original choice to play the 'Honey Pot' in the 'Outraged Husband Scam', but died before she could take part. Her soul was collected and processed.
Michael Good [Sir Edward's Valet]in 1881], was now murdered by Sir Harold [Colly] over missing money and opium. He was an addict who needed money constantly. He had adored Sir Edward from afar; Homosexuality was a serious crime in those times. The twins were so alike, that he believed Sir Edward had actually killed him. He was unable to escape his fate now; the time portal being closed. Michael was also wanted for two murders down on the docks, before he joined the French House. He had murdered two foreign sailors for their money; he needed it for drugs. His soul was collected and quarantined for a full human century.
Sir Edward Albert Scarborough Coleville now died in France on the eve of the First World War. He had been unable to escape his fate because Jericho's team had returned him to his own time; he no longer had the ability to time travel. He had been living in the 1980's as Edward Kemp - a rich Stock Broker - and had converted his father's old house into a museum. All that was now changed and the human time line changed very little, His modest little cottage was cleared by his niece [the daughter of his sister; Constance] who found the sketch and photographs of Alexandra. Sir Edward kept them as treasured memories of his very brief acquaintance with her. The niece - a religious and moral woman - destroyed all his papers and images in a bonfire on the cottage grounds and sold the property. Sir Edward's soul was collected and processed. It was quarantined for fifty human years because of his time travelling activities.
Sir Harold George Scarborough Coleville was murdered by his desperate and distraught father in 1889, who suspected that his son was the infamous and brutal 'Jack the Ripper'. That brought the evil killer's reign of terror to an end and he remains unknown by living humans, as the killer. His soul was collected and quarantined for three hundred human years.
Mrs. Kathleen Mary Gamble [Kate] had found refuge in the French House, escaping an abusive and violent husband. Sir Edward looked after her, when she fell seriously ill in 1888. She died in 1891 and Sir Edward also paid her funeral expenses and ensured her only daughter received money to marry well and set up her new home. Kate's soul was collected and processed. It was quarantined for a short time because of her time travelling episodes, on behalf of Sir Edward.
"A very difficult case for the team and especially Alexandra; who was beaten and sexually assaulted. Apparently, she also had a narrow escape from the clutches of the notorious 'Jack The Ripper'. That aside; the Mission was considered a success by Angel Margret and the Team themselves."
W.A.S.
Doctor Ben Roberts retired in 1991 and moved to Spain for his retirement. He had been married four times and had seven children and twenty grandchildren. He contacted Sepsis after being bitten by a dog, outside a Spanish bar. He died in 2002 and his soul was collected and processed.
Inspector Thomas March was quite a man of mystery. The details of his life - apart from his Police service - was unknown. He retired from the police and moved to Kent and lived the life of a practical recluse. Many of his neighbours in the small town didn't even know his name! He had apparently never married or had children. He should have died in April, 1998. But missed his departure date. He is now listed as a 'missing soul'. His case is being investigated by Temporal Inspector Kate Zaskinsky and Team 44. There is no resolution currently.
Sergeant Dave Soames served fifteen years in the Metropolitan Police and left to start his own Security Company. It failed with some serious financial loss to Dave. He managed to survive the debts with the help of his long time partner; John. He worked various jobs until his premature death from Cancer in 1993. His soul was collected and processed.
PC Paul Marshal retired from the Metropolitan Police after some 27 years service. He moved to a small fishing village on the West coast of Ireland and resided there until his death in 2012. He never married and had no children. His soul was collected and processed.
Harry Fellows didn't last long in the building game; he was far too lazy and took to Mini-Cab driving. He soon left that and eventually settled as a Cleaning Supervisor for a posh boarding school. He never married, but had three children. He was found dead on a Sunday morning, when his son turned up, for him to take the boy to football. He had suffered a major stroke. His soul was collected and processed.
Stanley Richard Fletcher, the Carpenter working at the French House in 1981 was tragically killed on holiday in Dorset just two years later. The Caravan's gas heater was faulty and Stan was suffocated. He was taking a rare holiday on his own. His soul was collected and processed.
Eric Smalls, the building site Supervisor at the French House [1981] retired the following year and moved to Spain with his wife Lynda. They enjoyed their retirement together for some years before a vicious and brutal stroke took Eric's life in 1992. His soul was collected and processed.
Miss Jessica Rowling was a 'French Maid' in the house [1881] and was the original choice to play the 'Honey Pot' in the 'Outraged Husband Scam', but died before she could take part. Her soul was collected and processed.
Michael Good [Sir Edward's Valet]in 1881], was now murdered by Sir Harold [Colly] over missing money and opium. He was an addict who needed money constantly. He had adored Sir Edward from afar; Homosexuality was a serious crime in those times. The twins were so alike, that he believed Sir Edward had actually killed him. He was unable to escape his fate now; the time portal being closed. Michael was also wanted for two murders down on the docks, before he joined the French House. He had murdered two foreign sailors for their money; he needed it for drugs. His soul was collected and quarantined for a full human century.
Sir Edward Albert Scarborough Coleville now died in France on the eve of the First World War. He had been unable to escape his fate because Jericho's team had returned him to his own time; he no longer had the ability to time travel. He had been living in the 1980's as Edward Kemp - a rich Stock Broker - and had converted his father's old house into a museum. All that was now changed and the human time line changed very little, His modest little cottage was cleared by his niece [the daughter of his sister; Constance] who found the sketch and photographs of Alexandra. Sir Edward kept them as treasured memories of his very brief acquaintance with her. The niece - a religious and moral woman - destroyed all his papers and images in a bonfire on the cottage grounds and sold the property. Sir Edward's soul was collected and processed. It was quarantined for fifty human years because of his time travelling activities.
Sir Harold George Scarborough Coleville was murdered by his desperate and distraught father in 1889, who suspected that his son was the infamous and brutal 'Jack the Ripper'. That brought the evil killer's reign of terror to an end and he remains unknown by living humans, as the killer. His soul was collected and quarantined for three hundred human years.
Mrs. Kathleen Mary Gamble [Kate] had found refuge in the French House, escaping an abusive and violent husband. Sir Edward looked after her, when she fell seriously ill in 1888. She died in 1891 and Sir Edward also paid her funeral expenses and ensured her only daughter received money to marry well and set up her new home. Kate's soul was collected and processed. It was quarantined for a short time because of her time travelling episodes, on behalf of Sir Edward.
Mr. Frederick James Babette [the Butler] collapsed and died on a wet Friday afternoon in 1887, working for his new master; Lord Robert. His soul was collected and processed.
Miss Elizabeth Durham [Lizzie] left the French House in early 1882 and married a local Fish Merchant. It was not a happy marriage and she had four children by the man she came to hate. She died in 1903. Her soul was collected and processed..
Miss Emma Cartwright [Emma] left the French House in 1882 and moved back to Eastham. She opened a modest brothel specialising in mild BDSM and became well known as 'Miss Whiplash'. She never married, but had two children. She died in 1910 and her soul was collected and processed.
Miss Elizabeth Durham [Lizzie] left the French House in early 1882 and married a local Fish Merchant. It was not a happy marriage and she had four children by the man she came to hate. She died in 1903. Her soul was collected and processed..
Miss Emma Cartwright [Emma] left the French House in 1882 and moved back to Eastham. She opened a modest brothel specialising in mild BDSM and became well known as 'Miss Whiplash'. She never married, but had two children. She died in 1910 and her soul was collected and processed.
William James Harris [Footman] left the French House and found he couldn't get work in a 'respectable' house. He joined the Merchant Navy and spent twenty years travelling the world. He was, sadly, lost overboard during a storm off the coast of Africa in 1902. His soul was collected and processed.
Mr. Ross Pool [the Artist] was actually a very good artist, but never made a success of his skills. For some reason in 1881; he took to drink. He basically drank himself to death and was found dead in an 'Artist's Commune' [they were popular in Victorian England] in February 1886. His soul was collected and processed.
Sir Howard Norman Grenville Stokes [Howard] had to flee England and travel to Australia in 1892 after being embroiled in a 'sex for money' scandal in a local Girls School, where he was on the Board of Governors. He was wanted for statutory rape of three young girls, that he paid to have sex with him. He died in Melbourne, alone and miserable, in 1889. His soul was collected and processed.
Lord Robert; 7th Earl of Rochford, bought a modest and isolated house in the Essex countryside and ran a copy of the French House for several years. Unfortunately for him [and the girls] he staffed the house with young girls snatched by 'White Slavers' [it was notorious at the time] off the streets of England's cities. The scandal broke in 1891 and Lord Robert - about to be arrested and exposed - hung himself at the house. His soul was collected and quarantined for a full human century.
Lady Gabriella; Countess of Rochford [Gabby] enjoyed indulging in hard lesbian [and sometimes brutal sex] acts with the girls at the new French House. After her husband's suicide, she fled Britain and ended up in America. She lived quietly in a small mid west town, running a dress shop. She never remarried and died in 1901. Her soul was collected and quarantined for a full human century.
Miss Jane Holiness [The Museum Assistant] only managed a few months working at the Museum; the boredom got to her and she joined the British Army. She left there in 1985 and married a builder. She had three children and died in 2031. her soul was collected and processed.
Bartholomew Blackberry [aka 'Black Bart'] the photographer, was to appear again, in another mission by Team 74. In the episode: The Devil's Circus'. It was understood that, he was selling copies of Alex's 'naughty' wedding photographs at ten shillings a time [good money for the period] and some actually, remain in private collections to this day!
Miss Jane Holiness [The Museum Assistant] only managed a few months working at the Museum; the boredom got to her and she joined the British Army. She left there in 1985 and married a builder. She had three children and died in 2031. her soul was collected and processed.
Bartholomew Blackberry [aka 'Black Bart'] the photographer, was to appear again, in another mission by Team 74. In the episode: The Devil's Circus'. It was understood that, he was selling copies of Alex's 'naughty' wedding photographs at ten shillings a time [good money for the period] and some actually, remain in private collections to this day!
Father Grenville Digby who presided at the Wedding of Alex and Sir Harold continued to abuse young boys in his charge for some years. Thankfully, he developed cancer of the bowel and quickly succumbed to the disease in May 1887. He soul was collected and he was quarantined for a full human century.
Lady Caroline [the other Alex] Margaret Coleville [nee: Carol Sackman]: Sir Edward's second wife was yet another 'French Maid' who he married and became the 'honey pot' for the 'Outraged Husband' scam. Unfortunately a 'trick' turned nasty and she was badly injured in 1885. She died in 1893, having never recovered from the beating she received. Sir Edward ensured she was looked after and nursed. Her soul was collected and processed.
What had been Lord John Coleville's house and home in the 1880's and a museum in the 1980's was now a private charity hospital, specialising in women with drug and prostitution problems; Sir Harold would have loved that!
What had been Lord John Coleville's house and home in the 1880's and a museum in the 1980's was now a private charity hospital, specialising in women with drug and prostitution problems; Sir Harold would have loved that!
Little Inga and Seth remain the earth bound spirits at the new, old people's care home that was the French House. They can still be seen and heard running about the place by certain, gifted residents and staff members. Attempts to 'catch' the mischievous pair [by Temporal Detectives] have all failed and they continue to inhabit the old house to this day. They have 'haunted' the area for almost seven thousand years and it looks like they will continue to do so!
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