Categories > Original > Erotica > L'ange de mes reves
Chapter I: In Which We Meet Edward
3 reviews[The Angel of My Dreams] Edward is the young and gifted professor from Britain. Rene` is the younger prostitute living in Paris. What happens when these two seemingly different young men meet?
2Original
It was grey and dreary as Edward Wellington III awoke from his night’s slumber early Thursday morning. He awoke to the sound of rain splattering the windows of his chamber and the wind howling through the large oak tree just outside his room. Rubbing the bits of sleep from his eyes, he looked out the window and was greeted by the sight of a wet London street with people hurrying past trying to get to where ever they were going this dreary Thursday morning. Sighing, the young man crawled out of bed and timidly put one foot on the icy cold floor of his bedchamber. He then slipped on his fuzzy grey housecoat and slid his feet into his black bed slippers. Edward slowly shuffled over to his looking glass and deciding that he looked somewhat decent, headed downstairs for breakfast. All in all, it was a typical morning for the young Wellington.
Edward Thomas Wellington, III was considered by most Londoners to be the toast of Victorian intellectual society. He was young, serious, and very gifted, graduating with honors from Cambridge University at age nineteen and becoming a university professor at twenty-one. He was also a piano prodigy and a classical literature savant, being able to discuss Mozart and Aeneas in the same breath. People oft said that it was his superior breeding that was the root of his intelligence—his father, Edward Thomas Wellington, II had been the president of Oxford and his mother, the late Duchess Henrietta Kensington-Wellington had been noted for her intellect as well as her beauty. Other people had mentioned that when the elder Wellington and the Duchess had passed away when the boy was seven, he thrust himself into his books and his studies. Seeing as no one ever bothered to ask him about it, either theory could be correct.
Edward was tall and pale, like most Britons of this period with dark brown hair and glasses. He had quite a morbid and pessimistic outlook on life that often comes from loosing both parents to consumption. Still, he was successful and young, being only twenty-three, and due to his inheritance, quite wealthy. In other words, he was quite a catch and he used to have throngs of women throwing themselves at his feet, begging to be Mrs. Edward Thomas Wellington, III. “Used to” being the key word, for now he had a fiancée by the name of Katherine Eloise Blythe. It was a decent arrangement, Miss Blythe being the daughter of a wealthy fishmonger, a member of the noveau riche; it allowed for Miss Blythe to marry into nobility and old money and for Edward, he wouldn’t have women throwing themselves at him.
Edward walked down the wide hallway adorned with the portraits of the dead Wellingtons and Kensingtons before him, wondering what he might have for breakfast. Generally, Edward never looked forward to breakfast due to the fact that he was always alone whenever he ate. Not even the stern Mrs. Eleanor Allen, his matronly housekeeper would sup with him. Today would be different for his fiancée and her parents were coming over after breakfast to work on the plans for the wedding, which would happen in six months. At the thought of seeing Miss Blythe, the young Edward quickened his pace down the hallway.
Breakfast was uneventful, he dined on eggs, sausage and tea and then headed back upstairs to get properly dressed. Now he was sitting in his favorite armchair in his study, reading one of John Locke’s works. He must’ve been reading for about fifteen minutes when Miss Eleanor appeared in the doorway, letter in hand.
“Edward, this came in the post for you.” Mrs. Allen said, holding out the letter. Edward nodded, gave a quiet “thanks,” grasped the letter and continued reading. It was only after a few minutes when he looked up and saw Mrs. Allen still standing in front of him.
“May I help you, Mrs. Allen?” Edward asked.
“Oh nothing, dear. I just thought you were going to read the letter now. You know, since it is from the university.” Edward sighed, he loved Mrs. Allen dearly, and he was greatly indebted to her for raising him after his parents’ death, but she was a bit nosy especially when it concerned him.
“That’s alright, I’ll read it later after Katherine leaves.” Edward said quietly and Mrs. Allen grimaced. His upcoming nuptials to Miss Blythe was a sensitive subject for the middle-aged housekeeper. She couldn’t fathom the thought of her “baby” getting married, especially to a woman like Katherine Eloise Blythe.
“Mrs. Allen, why don’t you prepare some tea and some of your delicious lemon sponge cake for when our guests arrive? I’m sure they would appreciate it.” Edward suggested earnestly. He thought it best that Mrs. Allen were out of the way when the Blythes arrived, as so the meeting would not get off to a bad start.
“Alright dear. I’ll have Edgar come fetch you once they arrive.” Mrs. Allen said and Edward gave her a small, sad smile. Quickly she left the room and Edward was alone with his book once more.
Edward Thomas Wellington, III was considered by most Londoners to be the toast of Victorian intellectual society. He was young, serious, and very gifted, graduating with honors from Cambridge University at age nineteen and becoming a university professor at twenty-one. He was also a piano prodigy and a classical literature savant, being able to discuss Mozart and Aeneas in the same breath. People oft said that it was his superior breeding that was the root of his intelligence—his father, Edward Thomas Wellington, II had been the president of Oxford and his mother, the late Duchess Henrietta Kensington-Wellington had been noted for her intellect as well as her beauty. Other people had mentioned that when the elder Wellington and the Duchess had passed away when the boy was seven, he thrust himself into his books and his studies. Seeing as no one ever bothered to ask him about it, either theory could be correct.
Edward was tall and pale, like most Britons of this period with dark brown hair and glasses. He had quite a morbid and pessimistic outlook on life that often comes from loosing both parents to consumption. Still, he was successful and young, being only twenty-three, and due to his inheritance, quite wealthy. In other words, he was quite a catch and he used to have throngs of women throwing themselves at his feet, begging to be Mrs. Edward Thomas Wellington, III. “Used to” being the key word, for now he had a fiancée by the name of Katherine Eloise Blythe. It was a decent arrangement, Miss Blythe being the daughter of a wealthy fishmonger, a member of the noveau riche; it allowed for Miss Blythe to marry into nobility and old money and for Edward, he wouldn’t have women throwing themselves at him.
Edward walked down the wide hallway adorned with the portraits of the dead Wellingtons and Kensingtons before him, wondering what he might have for breakfast. Generally, Edward never looked forward to breakfast due to the fact that he was always alone whenever he ate. Not even the stern Mrs. Eleanor Allen, his matronly housekeeper would sup with him. Today would be different for his fiancée and her parents were coming over after breakfast to work on the plans for the wedding, which would happen in six months. At the thought of seeing Miss Blythe, the young Edward quickened his pace down the hallway.
Breakfast was uneventful, he dined on eggs, sausage and tea and then headed back upstairs to get properly dressed. Now he was sitting in his favorite armchair in his study, reading one of John Locke’s works. He must’ve been reading for about fifteen minutes when Miss Eleanor appeared in the doorway, letter in hand.
“Edward, this came in the post for you.” Mrs. Allen said, holding out the letter. Edward nodded, gave a quiet “thanks,” grasped the letter and continued reading. It was only after a few minutes when he looked up and saw Mrs. Allen still standing in front of him.
“May I help you, Mrs. Allen?” Edward asked.
“Oh nothing, dear. I just thought you were going to read the letter now. You know, since it is from the university.” Edward sighed, he loved Mrs. Allen dearly, and he was greatly indebted to her for raising him after his parents’ death, but she was a bit nosy especially when it concerned him.
“That’s alright, I’ll read it later after Katherine leaves.” Edward said quietly and Mrs. Allen grimaced. His upcoming nuptials to Miss Blythe was a sensitive subject for the middle-aged housekeeper. She couldn’t fathom the thought of her “baby” getting married, especially to a woman like Katherine Eloise Blythe.
“Mrs. Allen, why don’t you prepare some tea and some of your delicious lemon sponge cake for when our guests arrive? I’m sure they would appreciate it.” Edward suggested earnestly. He thought it best that Mrs. Allen were out of the way when the Blythes arrived, as so the meeting would not get off to a bad start.
“Alright dear. I’ll have Edgar come fetch you once they arrive.” Mrs. Allen said and Edward gave her a small, sad smile. Quickly she left the room and Edward was alone with his book once more.
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