Bloody Red Doll
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities.
Part 26
I wasn't entirely enthusiastic about returning to the routine on Monday. I had rather enjoyed myself over the weekend; if I wasn't enjoying my alone time I was in a pub or a gentlemen's club or at the theater with Colin and my actor friends.
We did enough rehearsing during our idle time that my absence on Wednesday was hardly an issue. I was all ready for Thursday night's return after the holiday break. "Romeo and Juliet" would officially wrap at the end of the month, Colin was now deciding between a few comedies. "The Taming of the Shrew" and "As You Like It" were at the top of his list, I personally would have been happy with either.
I would spend hours as Richard Morris with his commoner friends, then I would put on the costume of Grell Sutcliff and go rub elbows with a few rich drunks at some club somewhere. I had to say the switch-up amused the hell out of me. I actually realized how much fun it was to play all these different roles. The audience assumes you are the man you are playing onstage, who cares if you're wearing a mask; it's all about illusion anyway.
It was best to think on myself as a player with many roles than try to think on what I looked like underneath the façade, though my thoughts were turning to that very subject in light of recent events. Underneath I was an unruly boy disliked or pitied by his family; I was a ruffian who would fly in fits of uncontrollable rage, posing a danger to himself and those around him. I was an ox expected to do task after task; receiving treats when I did what was expected and lashes when I stumbled or jerked at my chains.
I was not content with this reality at all. I would rather be that traveling actor whose life is but the many stages on which he performs. I wanted to be a shadow; formless, adaptable, always taking a form subject to its whims. I wanted to be free of society, of expectations, of scruples, of morays, of all labels and titles. Not caring whose rules I was flouting…no I wanted to flout all rules. I wanted to go against every single writ and every form of propriety there was. I had broken so many laws, committed so many sins, done so many deeds to tarnish my "good" name, but why stop there?
This was my very definition of freedom; the realization alone was liberating. Perhaps this was a path laid out before me, the ultimate challenge; exist as a free soul in this moral, rigid world. Live without caring about who I pissed off. Charming words yes, though this would be a tall order for even me to accept. Perhaps a little mental prodding would do wonders. I couldn't help but think that perhaps this upcoming New Year's party would do well for some encouragement.
It could very well have been a stuffy assemblage of humorless men sipping wine and discussing politics, though Jacob's tone when mentioning this affair had been a bit giddy. Over the months since his summer gathering, I had spoken to Earl Phantomhive a few times and occasionally exchanged business correspondence with him in collaboration with Jacob. There had been a few teas, though nothing of the magnitude of that party. That event back in August was supposed to be a simple parlor gathering, but the guest list made it a little more interesting. I could only imagine what the crowd at an all-night New Year's party would be like, though it was best to be prepared for everything.
I was still going to get blasted that night, I didn't care whose sensibilities I offended. Perhaps this would be a good way to test Jacob's promise that he was reporting nothing back to our dearest brother, though I knew this was a matter best left untested. Then again I doubted that Jacob intended to remain completely on his best behavior at this party, if he was I doubted he would be as enthusiastic about it as he seemed.
All this floated through my mind when I rose Monday morning and readied myself for work. I must admit I was somewhat looking forward to returning to the routine. All it takes is a few off moments in the course of one's week to create a desire for the mundane, for a feeling or normality. This was also normality that resulted from intense negotiations within my family after my grand bungle, perhaps it would be best to savor this as a great gain. I did give Jacob a particularly warm greeting in the carriage instead of my usual nod, may as well try to be a bit warmer to him.
Fate rewarded my mirth with Jacob giving me some information on the next night's gathering.
"We'll be leaving for the earl's manor at the end of the work day, make sure you bring any sundries with you that morning," Jacob said. "His manor is about an hour to two hour-long ride from the city depending on the roads. I spoke with his lordship over the weekend, oh we're going to have some fun in store for us. This affair is for gentleman guests only. He said he recently received a variety of exotic spirits in a recent shipment. Though I believe the piece de resistance is the entertainment. He has invited a rather exclusive troupe of Chinese dancers to perform; all gorgeous women. I hear they are available for a more private showing for a reasonable fee. Make sure you have some coin on you. Though if you'd prefer something good and English, there will be some locally grown refreshment there as well."
I was certainly liking the sound of this.
"I might want to do some sampling, I can't say I've had the pleasure of company from the Orient before," I said.
"Well you will have your opportunity," Jacob said. "I admit I enjoy a little foreign experience from time to time; as long as she's washed."
My best response was a dirty chuckle. Oh Jacob, such a man of the world you are. Your humanity is just overwhelming.
Aside from my brother's ever-so charming commentary, this conversation put me in a good mood going forth with my day. We were in for some delicious mayhem Tuesday night. As intrigued as I was about bedding some exotic Chinese dancer girl, the phrase "gentleman guests only" was whetting my palate a bit more.
It was a pursuit that could be dangerous, though what if there truly were handsome, cultured gentlemen there of like mind? No one would notice two gents with glasses in hand entering a study to discuss business and politics in private. I wasn't entirely making this a goal, but merely a subject of private fact-finding. Even if I did find any like-minded men, everyone was wide open for blackmail and selective exposure. If I bedded a prince or a duke, he could point at me and cry "sodomite" and see to my demise while no one dare suspect him of anything.
The threat of prosecution for my predilections no longer scared me. If a night of bliss with some handsome men earned me prison, torture, and a noose, then I would count it a happy end. Then there was the lovely impact this would have on Matthew and the rest of the clan. Thanks to my actions on Christmas, they considered me persona non grata regardless. Why not leave this world and drag their reputations along with me. It would be such a grand scandal. The younger generation would have to clean up after the mess though over time they could restore the reputation of the Sutcliff barony through old fashioned respectability. Fewer profits and fewer arse-lickers could do them some good. Perhaps this was a life sacrifice that would have great benefit, though I had no intention of shuffling off just yet. I'd go when the Reaper was good and ready to take me.
"Enjoy what little time you have to the fullest Mr. Sutcliff. After all we are only here for a short while."
Speaking of which, I wondered if that nutter would be at the party too. It was more than likely; sod it, I really didn't care. Perhaps a few drinks and some time discussing philosophy would show me he was just an average bloke. I needed to see this person while not under a haze of drink and nerves. He was but a passing thought in general and merely a insignificant detail for the promised fun.
I settled back into the drudgery of work, occasionally thinking on the promise of tomorrow's events to keep my mind occupied with something. By the end of the day my mind was rapt with images of naked noblemen; their pristine bodies soaking in steaming Roman baths with different combinations of men copulating all around the room. I had to stare intently at my schematic chart at one point lest my body betray my thoughts.
At last the end of the dreary day came and I was returning home. I actually got a couple extra outfits together right to have ready for when what I wore there was rendered unsalvageable. Though perhaps different gentlemen would prefer different looks on me.
I had my small trunk ready when Simon came knocking the next morning. He carried it to the carriage, saying my trunk would join Jacob's in a part of the office before he put them on top of the carriage for our trip to the Phantomhive manor. Our stop at Jacob's apartment also had Simon carrying out a small trunk with my brother following behind him. Jacob and I simply exchanged knowing glances. We were ready for this.
Work was sheer torture that day. I counted down the hours until 5 o'clock, then the minutes the closer it got. That last half hour was excruciating, but at last came that miraculous chime. I tried to keep from running out the building and instead kept pace with Jacob. We went out to see the carriage packed with our trunks, this was the official beginning.
The roads were busy as we left London, everyone assembling for their evening festivities. At last we passed down the main roads and watched the lights of the city grow dimmer. Jacob made an idle comment about how the roads to our destination were relatively smooth and well-traveled. Simon did have a musket at the ready should someone decide to interrupt our journey.
"On the subject of rough characters, I did want to give you a little advice for the occasion," Jacob said. "You are aware of the company Earl Phantomhive keeps, well what you saw last summer was a small collection compared to what you will see at his fuller events. More people will mean a wider group of individuals, which will mean a bit more rowdiness and a higher concentration of aforementioned rougher characters. We are talking about men of the underworld."
"And I am just a pristine little veal and hence a potential target for mischief," I said.
"In so many words, to put it bluntly," Jacob said. "Now this doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy yourself to the fullest, no sir. It does mean you need to mind yourself a bit more in this company. Watch who's around you, watch who you get too drunk around, don't get yourself into any dark corners. The last thing many of these men want to do is cause any trouble in the presence of the earl, though there might be some who want to accomplish just that."
"One may smile a smile and be a villain," I said.
"Precisely."
"I shall heed your warning, the last thing I want is to be any man's toy."
In an adversarial sense that is.
It was the second hour of riding by my watch when at last Jacob said we were but a few minutes from the manor. Jacob still maintained his usual businesslike demeanor, but under the surface he was downright giddy. Within the next few minutes, the lights of a large building came into view. The carriage pulled down a long, pristine path lined with small lanterns.
The Phantomhive manor was indeed grand. It had almost a gothic castle feel to the architecture. I saw crenelations and spires along the roof above large arched windows. Jacob told me the building was constructed about five years ago with the earl strongly involved in the design and construction process. I was impressed with his style; I was too accustomed to safe, soft, country manors created by elderly wives with their lords nodding at the plans.
Our carriage was behind a few others in a queue. I recognized the Phantomhive's swarthy-skinned butler Joseph greeting all guests and helping with any bags and the occasional wrapped gift. Joseph was soon greeting us and helping Simon remove our small trunks from the roof of the carriage before escorting us into the building. Joseph said drinks were being served now, dinner was at 8, and the entertainers would be arriving around 9 or 9:30. This meant matters were starting with modesty and politeness. By 9 enough people would have had enough drinks to truly enjoy the Chinese dancer girls and the real party could start. Pacing oneself was always the wiser choice after all.
The interior was a bit more modern, a bit more of a men's study feel with all of the wooden paneling and earth-toned wallpaper. A good sized group of gentlemen had already assembled, all politely talking and sipping on whatever spirit they had in hands. I saw plenty of well-dressed nobles as well as the more garish to rustic attire of the more interesting guests. Polite conversation ranged from even speech to boisterous deliveries with equally boisterous laughter.
I stayed with Jacob for a moment, though floated into the crowd and eventually struck up some of my on conversations. I found myself rather intrigued by the more colorful, louder characters. I couldn't exactly relate to their conversations, though it would do me good to experience something outside my own gilded pen.
I took a better look around the main sitting room and the hallways as well. Dear God did the earl collect a bunch of weird shit. There were preserved animals, suits of armor, cases of exotic swords all scattered about. I even saw a skeleton in a glass case (or rather coffin) adorned in some sort of bead jewelry. This place was like a museum for odd adventurers, Earl Phantomhive could make some extra money charging admission.
Speaking of which, I heard a familiar booming voice behind me. I looked back to see the earl gracing our presences with a wide grin. He wore green coat with fur lining the collar, a white ruffled shirt, and brown embroidered vest, head covered in another long wig with curls. As always a sword rested on one side of his belt, a pistol on the other, both rather ornate with no attempts made at toning down their presence.
The earl made eye contact with me and practically charged over to me, taking my hand and shaking it firmly with a string of greetings. As initially off putting as this was at first, I was rather pleased to see someone tossing out over-politeness. After a few words with me, he moved along to his other guests, getting a glass of mead and making the rounds. He was certainly a jovial host. Any man who could keep a motley group as this one in line had earned my respect, though that skill would certainly be put to the test the later it got and the drunker everyone became.
I pulled aside for a moment to get more of a grip on the crowd. I counted around fifty gentlemen present by quarter to 8, this was likely the bulk of the guests. I stood, sipping my claret and observing while allowing my eyes to explore more of my surroundings. I saw a portrait of the earl and his wife on one wall, then one of the whole family, little Armand's portrait was next to it along with one of what I assumed was his younger brother and sister.
There was another portrait, one that immediately caught my eye as a piece of black fabric was draped over the top of the frame. I took a few steps forward for a closer look, seeing it positioned over a small shelf adorned with flowers. It was a young man with similar features to Earl Bram and little Armand. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he gave a small smile. A brass plate was placed on the lower frame: "Lord Gabriel A.F. Phantomhive. 6 Sept., 1754-23 Oct., 1773."
I looked back up at the painting for as moment. Was this…
"Gabriel, Earl Phantomhive's firstborn son," a voice said next to me.
The voice that immediately sent chills through my body, though I tried not to smirk in response. I glanced over, seeing that familiar bespectacled man with the gray-streaked hair in a single, long braid down his back. Even on this festive occasion, he still wore a black suit with a modest cravat. Arthur kept his gaze on the painting, I saw the corner of a hazel iris; of course I did. That green double-iris glowing with menace was simply the result of my drunken, paranoid mind.
"He was sickly from childhood, from what I recall," Arthur said, taking a sip of his wine. "He had some sort of spinal defect, then a heart condition. It was a miracle he lived to see 19 years. Bram and Miriam still love him so, though naturally they hold all their children dear."
He gave me a little sideways look that I can't say I was pleased with. If he had something to say to me I'd rather he have out with it now.
"They sound like truly loving parents," I said. "I have developed great respect for them, and their children I will add."
Arthur smiled a little.
"I believe we started on a bit of off footing, Mr. Sutcliff," he said, extending a hand.
I looked at his hand for a moment, then his attempt at a warm smile. I smirked a little myself and shook his hand.
"Arthur Pettengill," he said.
"Grell Sutcliff, but you probably already knew that," I said.
"I did, I travel in business circles and I've heard your name quite a bit," he said. "You have been making some waves, a promising start to your career."
"Why thank you, I do my best. And what is your business, might I ask?"
He looked at his glass for a moment and swirled its contents with a smirk. He was trying to come up with a polite description for his impolite work.
"I am in collections myself," he said.
"Fascinating, " I said.
"Not as in smashing kneecaps and collecting kidneys for gambling debts, I assure you," he said with a laugh. "Merely rank and file work."
I couldn't help but laugh along. The fact he was emphasizing this fact added a little to his legitimacy in my mind (a little mind you).
"Did you meet Earl Phantomhive through business then?" I asked.
"Actually I did, our paths crossed a few years ago and once he ropes you into his world you don't have that much interest in leaving. The old bugger is persuasive like that."
"He is a lively character, his personality is simply infectious. That is probably why he keeps such fascinating company."
"He is a great lover of people, people of all kinds simply fascinate him. Title and prestige mean little to him when working with people."
"And a mere collections man such as yourself was able to become friends with the King's Guard Dog."
That came out a little harsher than I intended, though he simply chuckled a bit in response.
"As did a mere noblesse boy just starting to make something of himself," he said, toasting his glass to me. "All kinds, as I said."
"To this motley rabble," I said, toasting my glass.
"Here here," he said, clinking his glass against mine. "I do feel that I must apologize for our first meeting. I am aware I might have sounded a bit threatening."
I really had no words for this. He was admitting to creeping me out last summer, I was a bit pleased to hear this.
"I will admit I did not know what your intentions were when you spoke to me," I said. "I figured you were being philosophical."
"Yes, that was indeed the case," he said. "I do tend to be a bit fatalistic, I tend to express it a bit more when in an ill mood and I was certainly in one that evening."
"Apology accepted," I said. "I was myself a bit out of sorts that evening. It was my first time in this lovely company."
"Yes such first time encounters can be a bit off-putting. Forgive me for saying but I also heard you had a bit of an ill relationship…"
"With the earl's son Armand, more accurately described as me acting like a cross child. Well I am hoping to put such indiscretions behind me."
"The words of a true English gentleman."
His sarcastic tone was hardly lost on me.
"At least one in the making," I said.
He simply smirked and snickered.
"To progress," Arthur said, raising his glass.
"To progress," I said, raising my own glass.
The ringing of a small bell and Joseph's booming voice brought all our attentions to the front of the room; as significant relief on my part.
"Attention honored guests," Joseph said. "Dinner will now be served in the banquet hall."
A round of polite applause went around the group before hum and light trample of traffic moving toward the banquet hall.
"Onto a scrumptious dinner, and I do believe we have a feast ahead of us," Arthur said.
"I can't wait to sample it," I said.
We walked to the banquet hall, this time I kept a pace behind him. I was neutral to his presence now, he had shown me he was simply a normal guy and not some threat. I knew this would be the case, though I needed to at least find out. I was rather proud of myself at this moment, perhaps this would clear the road for the rest of the evening.
The earl did indeed have a grand feast spread out for us. There was succulent duck and tender beef, the plumpest vegetables, the richest sauces, and tarts that were prepared with pure artistry. As dinner progressed everyone was a bit more chatty and a bit less stiff. A heavy meal has a way of doing that and can be effective in its own way compared to drink. Oh drink was there too and a bit heavier during dinner. While full stomachs soak up alcohol, it meant a few of the guests were giddy by now instead of wasted. It was an intelligent move on the earl's part.
Speaking of the devil, I heard so many deep, rumbling laughs from him followed by so many witty jokes. He was a jolly bear of a man with which every one seemed to enjoy interacting. Earl Bram was a character regardless, but he was so much more fun to be around in this environment. He was the ringleader for the party and all the rest could only relax and abandon their posturing. Dinner wound down with so many more bawdy jokes and candid comments, even by the more "pristine" members of the crowd. Jacob was telling some good ones and eventually we had a little competition between us of who could be the most wittily crass.
We finished dessert around 9:30 and many of us reassembled back in the lounge. There were many open cries for the promised entertainment of that evening. I simply enjoyed the change in the guests from the boring parlor party earlier to the more relaxed and a bit drunker crowd now.
I ended up somehow in a conversation with two middle-aged gents, a Lord Hamilton and a Mr. Wilson. Neither of them were being that discreet about how physically close they were to each other. Both of them were half in the bottle, that was obvious, though the way they occasionally leaned on each other for a moment or fixed an off hair reminded me of a newlywed couple. The occasional "Darling: between them told me everything. No one seemed to pay any attention to this, perhaps they did look like two drunk men. Then perhaps no one cared about affections as long as no one was pounding anyone up the arse in anyone's immediate view. They said they were partners in a shipping company, perhaps this was their way to be close.
Funny, such was the same proposal I gave Reginald. What would have happened if he took me up on the offer? Would this be us in twenty years, living together on our mutually earned wealth, no one thinking anything on any idle affections at a party? Would we look over papers during dinner, vow to give ourselves a night off from business to enjoy each other's company, travel to exotic lands and give each other exotic gifts?
It never happened, it was never meant to happen. Reginald was destined to live his short life in self-imposed misery and I put an end to it. I did the world a favor. His time with the Reaper was his time, that was the end of it. All I had were my idle fantasies, though there was nothing wrong with idle fantasies. In fact I was more amused with what was playing out in my brain than any thought that any of it could have come to fruition. Perhaps I had the advantage of not mistaking my visions for true ideas. My visions and reality were their own separate forms of entertainment and I could choose the one or the both that amused me more.
I heard a few cheers going around the room and looked to find the source of someone's merriment. I then saw Earl Phantomhive at the top of the grand staircase beside a clearly Chinese man wearing a yellow brocade robe with his black hair pulled back into a thin braid down his back. This must have been the point man for the lovely dancer girls. The Chinese man clapped his hands loudly, all eyes went upward on the two on the stairs.
"Honored gentlemen," the man said. "The Kunlun Company is proud to be here tonight to present specimens of pure beauty and grace. The Red Lotus Brides."
Lamps dimmed around the foyer and a round of applause went up from the crowd. I kept looking up at the staircase and around me for our performers, but saw nothing. This was theatrical anticipation at its best. I then saw movement out of the corner of my eye, flashes of red all around us. More guests were noticing the same, waves of red like flags in a storm were all around the room.
Then I saw that same red wave flip up the stairs, then another wave came down in a patterned formation. The sound of drums and cymbals rang out in synchronization. I took a better look at the waves now; they were lithe women in red silk dresses. Their speed and agility was breathtaking. Groups of girls flipped down the stairs, then another group came to the top and leapt from the balcony in a somersault, being caught in the hands of their sisters below, who they propelled up to the balcony. Women slid down the banister, then landed in flips across the floor.
I watched this display in pure awe. I couldn't help but admire the delicacy of their red gowns, a rich brocade embroidered with flowers up the sides next to high slits to allow for greater movement. I was sure the rest of the guests were looking for a preview of their womanly assets. Yes I did see beautifully curved legs though they were moving too fast for any greater immodesty. All of them wore their black hair in braided buns. It was a little dark to clearly see faces, though I did see Chinese women who couldn't be any older than 20, 25 at a stretch. None of them wore expressions other than stern concentration.
Their movements matched the drumming and cymbals to take a crescendo, this performance would be over soon. Six large banners then fell from the balcony, a dancer each at the end of them. The ladies landed on the floor in graceful poses. All the women took a last pause as the drums took a loud downbeat with a hail of red confetti. I clapped and cheered with the rest of the crowd, what amazing talent.
The lamps relit and Earl Phantomhive stood at the top of the stairs clapping.
"A most wonderful performance for my good friends," he said. "A great thanks to Mr. Tsing Tao, London Branch Manager of the Kunlun Company, and all his lovely, talented ladies."
Another round of applause followed. About half an hour and another round of drinks later, the lovely ladies were now walking amongst the guests in red dresses with a few more embroidered flowers. Most of them had their hair in braids, some wore ponytails in curls, each had a white flower in her hair. The girls were doing the other part of the job tonight. I had to admit I was most curious what one of these ladies would be like in bed.
Within half an hour many of the guests had a lovely Chinese girl on his arm or sitting across form him. I saw a few pairs walking off into side rooms. My curiosity was a bit more active now and I could use a nice palate cleanser. I approached one young lady who likely came from the washroom or perhaps with another client. I played the charming gentleman, though tried to hold myself back from praising her gorgeous dress more than her lovely skin. As tempting as it would be to assume she barely spoke English, such was not the case. Her English was heavily accented, though adept.
After being such a complimentary gentleman I did politely ask her to join me in a side room for a more private conversation. She whispered in my ear that private performances would cost £3, I slipped the three coins into her hand as we went into a side sitting room.
I politely stripped her of that red dress, what gorgeous material it was. Her arms were so tone, almost muscular. Her whole body was compact muscle, if she had a few parts in place of others I would be on all fours with my hindquarters beggingly in the air. I could still work with this, she was a fine specimen of feminine beauty. I stripped, kissed her, and asked her to lead in this dance. I just wanted to watch her, feel her. I lay down on the couch and she positioned over me. She was so skilled, I had never had a woman in such a position before but this was no mere woman, this was a work of art.
I caressed her golden skin, watched those narrow eyes focus on me, watched her braid bounce on her shoulder. She took a grip on my shoulders and moved ever so skillfully. She knew how to flex her hips, how to put pressure in certain areas, how to caress my body delicately while moving with great force. I even focused on the way her breasts shifted and bounced, I wanted to savor all of her.
She had a quiet moment though continued for me, by my end I was panting and moaning; she was so good at this. I ended with a grunt and collapsed on the couch. She got up, wiped herself off with a towel she kept in a purse, and dressed like nothing. I reached into my purse and gave her an extra few pence.
"You were wonderful, my darling," I said, giving her one last small kiss.
She left, soon I was fully dressed and returning to the party. My hair was down, my shirt untucked, but the same was true of many of the guests and it would only continue from here. By now my fellow guests were louder and drinking a bit more freely.
The clock on the wall read 11, the great countdown was in an hour and the party was just starting to get good. I was ready for a few extra drinks and maybe some refreshment of the flesh that was a little more to my tastes.