Tanakalian
Master of dreams
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2019
- Location
- Eindhoven, the Netherlands
(Since this is a continuation of postings elsewhere, the contributions up-to-date will be ccpied into here by me, with at the top, who out of me and @Kitara Dietrich posted it originally)
Tanakalian:
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Robert John Derby, Viscount Chichester, or Lord Robert as he was usually called, walked out of the House of Lords, passing Big Ben, the clock tower that had been standing at the corner of Westminster for five years now, on his way to opening of the International Exhibition next to the gardens of the Royal Horticultural Society. It was a beautiful day, this first of May, in the year of our Lord 1862 and Lord Robert was walking home to his house at Grosvenor Square in Mayfair, to meet his only child, Lady Alexandria, or Alex as he would call her. But always muttered to himself and never to her face.
Ever since her birth, now 18 years ago, it had been the two of them, as his beloved wife had unfortunately passed away after birth, having lost too much blood. The first couple of years had been difficult for Lord Robert, but with the help of his sister and his staff, he had managed. He had taken some time off of his work as member of the House of Lords, retreating to his estate Goodwood House, for the first six years of his daughter’s life, only occasionally travelling from West Sussex to London, if his presence was required for important votes.
From the age of seven, tutors lived at Goodwood, giving his daughter the necessary education, but more often than not he kept her with him, either at Goodwood or at his residence in the capital. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his daughter, but he never came to trust any other man around her. Not when she had been a child and most certainly not when she had entered her teenage years. He knew that he might be a little over-protective over her, but she was the only real family he had left and he didn’t plan on losing her any time soon.
But for all the time she spent in his presence, he hadn’t taken her to his second residence in the capital, a house located in a much more obscure location. He had bought the house at the edge of the East End almost a decade after his wife’s premature death, when he finally had managed to snap out of a prolonged mourning period. One of his peers had taken him to a more private party and after an initial shock of seeing what he saw, he rather got into it all quicker than he had held possible.
As the oldest son, Lord Robert was the heir to the estate at Goodwood, East-Sussex, his father the second Viscount Chicester. His grandfather had made a name for himself in several wars, most noticeable the battle at Waterloo, whereupon King George III had granted him the estate and a more than a decent yearly income. His grandfather had turned out to be an even better businessman than he had been a soldier and the family fortune had risen more than a hundred-fold. Lord Robert’s father had sought his fortunes in India, but had returned when the first Viscount Chichester had died, to take over the estate.
It was a beautiful first of May and instead of taking a carriage Lord Robert walked as he did so often, he was a man taller than most of his peers, with an athletic figure. He had served a couple of years in the Royal Hussars, just like his father and grandfather for him, but was spared a war and upon his father’s death, he too returned home to Goodwood to take over the estate. And just like his grandfather, Lord Robert had a knack for business, making him one of the wealthiest men of Britain. He had married late, out of love, instead of anything else, there was no girl that could add enough to his fortune to take up such offers. He thought he would have a long and prosperous marriage, with many children, but Alexandria would always and ever be his only one. And he doted on the girl for many reasons.
Lord Robert had the look of a man at least a decade younger than his age, not having the burden of hard life, eating as healthy as could be and not drinking too much. When he was not obliged to wear the tunics of the Lords, he wore his dark hair loose, often uncombed, but he kept it reasonably short. He had dark-green eyes. His late wife had often called them cat’s eyes, the eyes of a hunter. He had reached the age of 50 only a few months earlier and with that passing his father in age. But, especially these days, many a girl or woman he met, mistook him for a man in his early 40s, at most. But, for all the advantage his looks had, he was fully aware that it was mainly his fortune that attracted any female. Lord Robert however, had vowed never to marry again.
His house at East End was the one he would go to for his pleasure, for the young girls that were brought there, for his pleasure and that of his peers. The girls, all of the age of 18 or over, were more than willing to offer themselves to the nobility, no matter their looks, yet Lord Robert always got the prettiest ones. He thrived on getting his hands on any 18yo girl, brought through the door, to experiment with them, to always and ever push their boundaries, to make them do things their mothers had warned them for, no matter the class they were born into.
Since he had discovered the hidden world of pleasure, he had been thinking of how it would be to take his daughter there, in the year she had turned 18, to use her for his own pleasure, to push her own boundaries, to perform all his experiments on her. And in the few weeks since her birthday, he had been starting to form a plan. Them going to the International Exhibition the starting point of that plan. After going there, he would take her out dining at one of the best restaurants in the city, where after he would take her to a theater in the West End. But instead of going back to their house near Westminster, he would take her to East End, to show her, as he would call it, an opportunity for future life.
As a member in the House of Lords, Robert was aware of all future plans for the city, the first underground line would be opened next year and there were extended plans for the Docks at East End. To make the city a major port. And with that poverty would disappear from East End, pushing the poorer classes up north and making the area around his house a sought-after living area. The fact that such plans only had been discussed by a few members of Parliament, a conversation that Lord Robert only accidentally had overheard, was not the point.
The walk from the Houses of Parliament and the Lords to the house his daughter was waiting for him took him roughly half an hour, as he had been walking in a leisurely pace, musing over the events of the day and night ahead. A carriage would be waiting to take him and his daughter to Imperial College Road, where the Exhibition’s entrance was. He whistled a soft tune as he was approaching Grosvenor Square, immensely looking forward to what would be coming the day and night ahead.
Tanakalian:
------------------
Robert John Derby, Viscount Chichester, or Lord Robert as he was usually called, walked out of the House of Lords, passing Big Ben, the clock tower that had been standing at the corner of Westminster for five years now, on his way to opening of the International Exhibition next to the gardens of the Royal Horticultural Society. It was a beautiful day, this first of May, in the year of our Lord 1862 and Lord Robert was walking home to his house at Grosvenor Square in Mayfair, to meet his only child, Lady Alexandria, or Alex as he would call her. But always muttered to himself and never to her face.
Ever since her birth, now 18 years ago, it had been the two of them, as his beloved wife had unfortunately passed away after birth, having lost too much blood. The first couple of years had been difficult for Lord Robert, but with the help of his sister and his staff, he had managed. He had taken some time off of his work as member of the House of Lords, retreating to his estate Goodwood House, for the first six years of his daughter’s life, only occasionally travelling from West Sussex to London, if his presence was required for important votes.
From the age of seven, tutors lived at Goodwood, giving his daughter the necessary education, but more often than not he kept her with him, either at Goodwood or at his residence in the capital. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his daughter, but he never came to trust any other man around her. Not when she had been a child and most certainly not when she had entered her teenage years. He knew that he might be a little over-protective over her, but she was the only real family he had left and he didn’t plan on losing her any time soon.
But for all the time she spent in his presence, he hadn’t taken her to his second residence in the capital, a house located in a much more obscure location. He had bought the house at the edge of the East End almost a decade after his wife’s premature death, when he finally had managed to snap out of a prolonged mourning period. One of his peers had taken him to a more private party and after an initial shock of seeing what he saw, he rather got into it all quicker than he had held possible.
As the oldest son, Lord Robert was the heir to the estate at Goodwood, East-Sussex, his father the second Viscount Chicester. His grandfather had made a name for himself in several wars, most noticeable the battle at Waterloo, whereupon King George III had granted him the estate and a more than a decent yearly income. His grandfather had turned out to be an even better businessman than he had been a soldier and the family fortune had risen more than a hundred-fold. Lord Robert’s father had sought his fortunes in India, but had returned when the first Viscount Chichester had died, to take over the estate.
It was a beautiful first of May and instead of taking a carriage Lord Robert walked as he did so often, he was a man taller than most of his peers, with an athletic figure. He had served a couple of years in the Royal Hussars, just like his father and grandfather for him, but was spared a war and upon his father’s death, he too returned home to Goodwood to take over the estate. And just like his grandfather, Lord Robert had a knack for business, making him one of the wealthiest men of Britain. He had married late, out of love, instead of anything else, there was no girl that could add enough to his fortune to take up such offers. He thought he would have a long and prosperous marriage, with many children, but Alexandria would always and ever be his only one. And he doted on the girl for many reasons.
Lord Robert had the look of a man at least a decade younger than his age, not having the burden of hard life, eating as healthy as could be and not drinking too much. When he was not obliged to wear the tunics of the Lords, he wore his dark hair loose, often uncombed, but he kept it reasonably short. He had dark-green eyes. His late wife had often called them cat’s eyes, the eyes of a hunter. He had reached the age of 50 only a few months earlier and with that passing his father in age. But, especially these days, many a girl or woman he met, mistook him for a man in his early 40s, at most. But, for all the advantage his looks had, he was fully aware that it was mainly his fortune that attracted any female. Lord Robert however, had vowed never to marry again.
His house at East End was the one he would go to for his pleasure, for the young girls that were brought there, for his pleasure and that of his peers. The girls, all of the age of 18 or over, were more than willing to offer themselves to the nobility, no matter their looks, yet Lord Robert always got the prettiest ones. He thrived on getting his hands on any 18yo girl, brought through the door, to experiment with them, to always and ever push their boundaries, to make them do things their mothers had warned them for, no matter the class they were born into.
Since he had discovered the hidden world of pleasure, he had been thinking of how it would be to take his daughter there, in the year she had turned 18, to use her for his own pleasure, to push her own boundaries, to perform all his experiments on her. And in the few weeks since her birthday, he had been starting to form a plan. Them going to the International Exhibition the starting point of that plan. After going there, he would take her out dining at one of the best restaurants in the city, where after he would take her to a theater in the West End. But instead of going back to their house near Westminster, he would take her to East End, to show her, as he would call it, an opportunity for future life.
As a member in the House of Lords, Robert was aware of all future plans for the city, the first underground line would be opened next year and there were extended plans for the Docks at East End. To make the city a major port. And with that poverty would disappear from East End, pushing the poorer classes up north and making the area around his house a sought-after living area. The fact that such plans only had been discussed by a few members of Parliament, a conversation that Lord Robert only accidentally had overheard, was not the point.
The walk from the Houses of Parliament and the Lords to the house his daughter was waiting for him took him roughly half an hour, as he had been walking in a leisurely pace, musing over the events of the day and night ahead. A carriage would be waiting to take him and his daughter to Imperial College Road, where the Exhibition’s entrance was. He whistled a soft tune as he was approaching Grosvenor Square, immensely looking forward to what would be coming the day and night ahead.