Another look back in time, to the more elegant and yet sweetly brutal femdom of yesteryear.
|Cecily has a lot to learn… as does George, but soon after this, the ladies engaged a very experienced governess to help with all that and never had to bother themselves about him again.
|She’s beautiful when she’s vexed.
|What a fine moral compass that young lady has! I’m sure it will stand her in good stead when she marries.
And one too large to fit as a caption, even one as wordy as those above.
My dearest Emilia
Of course, my first communication on my return from honeymoon can only be to my dearest school friend, so here you find me writing. Goodness, what an exciting time we had! So many tea dances, sonnet recitals and long country walks in the rain, it made my head quite spin.
And of course, marital bliss. Dear, dearest Emilia, I was reminded of the little games you and I used to play at school – do you recall, in the dorm, when the nuns had ceased patrolling for the night? Silly, girlish games, really, but I recall them with great affection. I was reminded for some reason of our little ‘tickling contests’ under the sheets. Do you recollect, my dear, your telling me that our little games were useful practice for romance with a man? All that kissing and petting and… other things? Well, my dear, the ‘real thing’ so to speak is a little similar in some respects but very different in others. It is quicker, for one thing. Much, much quicker. I had barely thought it started, when – done! Men are so much more efficient in these matters, it seems.
Also, nothing in my previous experience had prepared me for the important role that my shoes would play in ‘rousing’ Harold to the right state of enthusiasm. Nor the necessity of securing my husband
tightly to the bed with straps, to prevent harm to his delicate wife. All most ‘educational’. Perhaps these things are ‘old hat’ to you, my dear, living your glamorous life in London. Although I understand your social circle consists almost entirely of women. So perhaps not.
Would you care to visit some time, dear Emilia? Even a married woman must not forget her old school chums. Why, peculiarly enough, I have been thinking a lot of Lydia, lately: old ‘slipper’ herself, the terror of the dorms when she was a prefect. I happened to mention her to Harold for some reason or other and he seemed quite fascinated, so I had to recount all the details of how we suffered under her hand! And of course you and I would comfort each other afterwards, kissing all that poor bruised flesh better. However, I thought Harold would not be interested in that part of the tale, so did not bore him with it.
So, Emilia, dearest, do write back with the utmost haste to arrange some dates for a visit. Or simply arrive! We do not have much space to spare but I am confident we can squeeze you in! For three days of the week Harold inspects the farms in the North of the county, so it will just be the two of us – oh, and my young housemaid Agnes, of course.
We could even share a bed.
Mmmm…. Perhaps not.
We could even share a bed. It would be just like old times, my dearest Emilia, so do act without delay and I look forward impatiently to once
again holding you in my arms and
holding you in my arms and conversing with my dearest, closest friend.
It brings me great joy to be presented to the world as ‘Mrs Melchett’ but to you, my dearest, I fondly hope always to be your beloved and
and… and… and… ah yes!