500 word short story – Victorian romance with a twist.
After a fraught week when this blog went a little haywire, I managed to conjure up my 500 story using the picture prompt. Nothing like a formal Victorian courtship and this one isn’t starting off very well.
“Miss Malone, did you or did you not call your sweet cousin a beastly mare?”
She stared at his buttons, counting them in pairs. “Mr Lewis, I would not say such a thing.”
Mr George Lewis tipped up her chin. “Say that to my face.”
His face was austere, yet so charming. The man had sideburns that framed his face and a neat moustache. He spoke in a delicious way. Not a sycophantic tone, no, he spoke like a true gentleman – stern and deep.
Her cousin, Delilah, was not her friend. The two spat at each other the moment anyone left them alone. Delilah envied her because her father made money, and hers hadn’t, at least insufficient to keep her happy. She complained constantly about her meagre dowry.
“Those pearls on your neck, Alicia, they would double my dowry.” Delilah coveted the necklace shamelessly.
Unconsciously, Alicia fingered the necklace as Mr Lewis, the handsome George, waited.
It was no good. She couldn’t lie to a gentleman, especially one she admired. Inhaling deeply, she dropped her hands to her sides and tilted her chin even higher, so that she might stare at his hat instead of his steely blue eyes.
“I do confess, sir. I called her a beastly mare.” She wasn’t proud of the declaration, but it felt better being honest.
Mr Lewis. The redoubtable, yet scrumptious George, clasped his hands behind his back and rose up on his toes, bouncing on them for a few seconds. He pursed his lips, contemplating.
Her lower lip wobbled. “Am I such a terrible person, Mr Lewis? Will I forever be contemptible and falling short of your most cherished and exacting standards of deportment?” She fluttered her eyelashes, hoping a few drops of tears might appear in her eyes, however, they remain quite dry.
“You, my dear, are too good at this charade.”
“Charade?” she said indignantly.
“Pretence at meekness. I have it on good authority that you make vulgar comments to other men, lift your bosom excessively high for the benefit of the younger men and in particular pout when ignored.”
Mr George Lewis smiled. “Mine.”
“Sir, that is not fair.” She trembled all over. They had moved into foreign territory. What to say now that he had unmasked her as a fraud. Would he understand what drove her to speak so poorly of her cousin?
“I think not, sweet girl. I think you most earnestly want my good authority in your life.” He lowered his head and whispered into her ear. “And you shall have it, my dear.”
She sucked air through her teeth and the strangest of sensations evolved in parts of her body she should not discuss with any man.
“How shall I know you do honour me with your authority?”
“Why, Alicia, I shall take you into these woods, bend you over a tree and spank your bare bottom. Then, when you are quite recovered, I shall propose to you. How say you?”
Alicia spoke without hesitation. “Yes, please.”
The lightly applied rules:
- No more than 500 words, but as little as I like. It could be poem if I’m short on time.
- Something related to the prompt – it can begin it, or end it. It could be the background or the action, the setting or the people or maybe the words incorporated into the story.
- It’s going to be erotic or romantic, possibly spanking or kink, but not every time. It depends on what comes to mind.
- It got to be original. No excerpts or works in progress. If it turns into something bigger, great, that’s what I find flash fiction useful for – story ideas.
- No cliffhangers. Preferably a beginning, middle and some kind of conclusion.
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