Temptation ~ The second novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

 
    ~ Temptation ~
    A Victorian Romance and Erotic Novelette
     
    by Lady T. L. Jennings
     
     
    23rd of May, 1843
     
    “Do you have any questions, Mr Sanders?” Lord Henley asked in his deep voice and rose from his chair behind the immaculately polished pedestal writing desk. The way he said it clearly indicated that the grey-haired viscount never for a moment had consider ed that anyone would ever dare to answer him with a “yes”.
    “No, not t hat I can think of at the moment, my lord,” Oliver Sanders replied politely and hurriedly stood up too. He was more than a little relieved to leave the remarkabl y uncomfortable wooden rococo chair that was placed in front of the writing desk. During the last hour , Oliver had been sitting on the disagreeable mahogany chair that forced him to sit up extremely straight, while Lord Henley had interviewed him thoroughly and extensively for the position as a tutor to his son. Lord Henley had seemed adamant to find any flaws or faults regarding Oliver’s studies, his academic references, or his referees , and Oliver was still not convinced if he had managed to pass the ordeal or not. Oliver cleared his throat and continued to say, “Once again, my lord, let me just express how incredibly privileged and honoured I feel … ”
    But the rest of Oliver’s sentence was waved away with a simple gesture of Lord Henley’s hand , and Oliver immediately went silent.
    “Think nothing of it. After all, our arrangement is of mutual benefit, is it not?” Lord Henley said and did not wait for Oliver to comment. “Shall we go and meet your new student , then?”
    “But of course, my lord,” Oliver agreed and discreetly tried to wipe his sweaty palms against his dark trousers as they left Lord Henley’s elegant and cigar - smelling private library.
    One of the first things that Oliver had noticed when he stepped through the towering and aged wooden doors to Wycliffe Castle was that the building was surprisingly cold. It was probably a result of the more than three - f oo t - thick stone walls, the high ceilings, and the lack of large windows that prevented the summer’s warmth to enter into the quiet rooms. At first the cool temperature had made Oliver unpleasantly cold, but after the intimidating interview , Oliver felt both hot and sweaty. His sepia brown woollen frock jacket itched tremendously by the collar under the starched cravat , and Oliver had to stifle the urge to scratch his neck. He sorely missed his ordinary Oxford student gown and subfusc, although he often would complai n that the student gown somehow always managed to be too thin for the winter cold, but still too thick for the summer weather. He regretted those complaints now.
    Lord Henley walked briskly along the long corridors , and Oliver hurried to catch up with him. The corridors were rather dim and were only lit by narrow and infrequent windows in the walls. It is almost hard to even imagine that the sun is actually shining outside, Oliver thought. Not even the sound of the birds twittering that he had heard earlier when he stepped out of the carriage outside the castle could be heard. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps against the checkered red and grey limestone floor as they continued walking briskly along the corridors in silence.
    Oliver had left Oxford with the early morning stagecoach , and with the exception of the horse-drawn wagon unfortunately breaking down twice during the trip, the journey had been rather uneventful , and he had reached Bournemouth where Lord Henley’s private carriage had still been wait ing for him. Lord Henley’s elegant and old-fashion ed carriage had been quite an improvement to the crowded and accident-prone stagecoach and had emerald-green plush velvet cushions instead of worn and hard leather seating. The driver had been a little bit odd and very quiet , according to Oliver, but nevertheless he swiftly drove the carriage through the Ringwood forest and up the hill where the imposing Wycliffe Castle was located.
    While Oliver tried to keep up with Lord Henley’s swift pace , he had to force himself not to crane his neck and look around wide-eyed and with a gaping mouth at the spectacular interior of the castle.
    Some parts of Wycliffe Castle were more than 500 years old , and only God knew how old the foundation was. It looked like almost nothing had changed at all during the last hundred years or so , and Oliver was pleased to notice that so far he