Hello. I'm back. I was hoping to get some outtakes done on Highland Dreams and Money Matters but this story would just not leave me alone. This first chapter is more or less an introduction to the three main characters and a few of the additional characters in the story and to see if there is any interest in this type of period story. I have recently read a series of books called the Cambridge Fellows series and fell head over heels in love with them. After reading the whole series I got to thinking about what the story would be like if our beloved Edward and Jasper were placed in similar rolls. This story 'Killing Time' is a mixture of similar time period and Twilight characters. If you think I should continue with this story let me know.
The known characters in this story belong to S. Meyers and her Twilight world. The time period from the Cambridge Fellows Series but the story idea is all mine.
Edward Masen is thirty years old and has been at St. Paul's School of Medicine in Cambridge for four years where he sits in the Head Fellows Chair of the Mathematics School. Impressive for one so young but seeing as the school is the only thing in his life and the complexity of numbers his only companion, one can understand how he has moved up through the ranks so quickly. Tall and slim built with a milky clear complexion which was in complete contrast to his properly groomed bronze pompadour and his deep emerald eyes framed by thick black lashes. He cared little for fashion but always looked impeccable in his somber colored suit and tie with his Fellows black gown in place.
His family home is located in London though he rarely visits there anymore. Only when he is forced to leave the university during holidays does he traverse back. It is a lonely cold place and the memories of seeing his mother shoot his father and his mistress haunt his dreams enough. But there he relives them constantly. He was only ten, much too young to understand that what his father was doing was wrong and much too young to have to listen to the other children taunt him with stories of his mother's trip to the gallows for committing such a deed. Thank goodness his Grandmother Masen took him in.
Her home in Sussex was more his home than the other building in London. When she died last year, 1903, his world was left dark and he folded him in on himself. There was no one to love, no one who really knew him at all, and no one to share himself with. That's when he started visiting that place.
He had long known that he would never marry. He had no inclination towards women at all, not the marrying kind or any kind for that matter. His desires leaned in a direction that was fraught with peril. Because in Edwardian England, lying with a man could destroy your reputation, ban you from proper society and even get you two years of hard labor on the docks. Edward Masen had no choice but to seek his pleasure in places where proper gentlemen did not go.
It was the summer of 1904 and Edward had come home to London to inspect the family residence, since it was left in the care of servants for most of the year. See his solicitor about the family's business ventures that he now cared for. And relieve some pent up frustration by reacquainting himself with an old friend or two.
After one such liaison with Henry, a young blond gentleman with a very muscular build, Edward awoke from a frightful dream where he was watching his mother shoot his father again. But this time the dream was more detailed. He didn't remember seeing the back of his father's head exploding and blood spewing across the wall behind where he stood. His body was damp and the candles had been blown out, the room was in total darkness except for a faint light penetrating the curtains. The window had been left open to allow a breeze to cool the room.
Edward reached for the matches on the bedside table and lit the candle there. Rubbing his hands on his face he wondered why he was so damp. Sexual diversions often left his body covered in sweat but this felt more like water had been poured over him. His eyes once open and viewing the bed where he lay alone grew wide with the realization that this was wrong, very wrong. He was covered in blood not sweat. A scream left his body as the shock sent him tumbling back into the darkness.
Next morning, the light streamed through the window and woke Edward with a start. Remembering the dreams from the night before he jumped from his bed before thinking of his naked form, but after careful inspection of himself and the bed, he could plainly see there was no blood. He wondered what the bloody hell was going on.
Jasper Whitlock was a bastard. Born on the wrong side of the sheets so it was said and for that his father Lord Andrew Whitlock despised the ground he walked on. It was a total affront to his lordship that his bastard son was paraded around as his own. Jasper didn't really give a bloody farthing for his father either so there was no love lost between the two men.
Lord Whitlock was engaged to the Lady Caroline from Bath and she had a hand maiden named Elsa from some far away northern peninsula. Elsa was blond and full figured with blue eyes the color of the sky. Lord Whitlock took his pleasure with Elsa only a few days before his own betrothal to Lady Caroline and when the happy couple returned from their honeymoon trip, it was to find Elsa very large with child. When he admitted the folly of his deed, Caroline was heartbroken and exacted her own kind of revenge by demanding that they raise the child as their own.
So Jasper came to call Lady Caroline, mother, who loved him dearly and his true mother was sent away, never to be heard from again. Lord Whitlock didn't have much to do with Jasper as he grew but as soon as he was old enough to be sent off to boarding school, Lord Whitlock made it happen. Jasper was only allowed to come home at the holidays and during the summer vacation time where Lady Caroline would whisk him away to some lovely location far from Lord Whitlock's ire.
When Jasper was ten, the most wonderful thing happened; after many years of trying and failing Lady Caroline delivered a beautiful baby girl who was named Rosalie. Jasper called his little half sister, Rosie. For ten years the three of them spent as much time together as Lord Whitlock would allow and just before Jasper's twentieth birthday, Lady Caroline succumbed to influenza. Lord Whitlock saw his opportunity to be done with the bastard child he despised and dismissed Jasper without so much as a look back.
Unknown to Lord Whitlock, Lady Caroline had provided for Jasper in her will from her own monies that she had brought into the marriage. Jasper used the money prudently and put himself through university where he graduated at the top of his class in new a field of study, criminology. He became the youngest inspector at Scotland Yard. His father never recognized his son's merits even on his death bed.
Lord Whitlock committed one more act just before his passing that left Jasper blindsided. He betrothed his young daughter to a man thirty years her senior, one of his business partners, William Hale. Rosalie married William one week before Lord Whitlock died on a cold dreary rainy day in late November 1901. Neither Rosalie nor Jasper cried for the man who had never really loved either of them.
William Hale was not anything like Lord Whitlock and he treated his young bride with much tenderness and Rosie, as Jasper called her, confided in her brother upon her return from her honeymoon trip that they had not consummated their marriage because William could not. Theirs would be a marriage in name only because he was unable to do his duty as a husband. She didn't love him but she would be a good wife to him. Two years later when William's heart finally gave out Rosie truly grieved for him and so did Jasper.
Now at thirty one, Jasper and his very young widowed sister shared the house that William Hale had bought for his new bride. It was a happy home full of laughter and shared companionship. Rosie had no interest in remarrying for she was much too independent for women of her time. She stayed in sack cloth an extra year, just so she could dissuade any suitors in pursuit of her. And Jasper, well Jasper had other interests. There had been a friend he had become very close to while he was at university who had opened his eyes to desires, ripe and strong in him that he had never knew existed.
Peter Marshall was a fine looking man, having played rugby for the university team. And undressed he was even finer to look at. Jasper had learned the intimate delights of loving and being loved by another man. It was a sore disappointment when Peter suddenly disappeared without so much as a single note of reason the summer between their third and fourth year at university. Jasper had missed him so, though he knew it wasn't love he knew enough to know that it was a dangerous thing to be found out of lying with another man at this time in England.
Rosie was the only other person on the earth that knew of Jasper's desires because they had no secrets from each other. But Jasper never allowed himself to get involved with another man after Peter and pushed himself into his work.
Carlisle Cullen was a young good looking forty two year old man. Most said it was unbelievable that someone so young could be the Head Master of St. Paul's. But those who knew the underlying political doings of university life knew that it wasn't so much Carlisle but his wife Esme who got him the job. Even more was the fact that it was Esme's close connection with King Edward himself that got Carlisle the position of respect and stature that he had. Because if Carlisle Cullen was the Head Master of St. Paul's then Esme was the grand damn Hostess of the university.
Carlisle and Esme had been wed for over fifteen years and had no secrets from each other. Esme was terrified of the marriage bed and had only managed to actually perform the act with her husband on a few occasions. She only doing it in hopes of having a child was sorely disappointed in that fact that no child had ever happened. Esme's younger sister Alice became a part of their household when Esme's father a diplomat for King Edward who was also his cousin went off to India to reign over some providence for the King and taking their mother with him. They were due to return to England in another year or two.
Life at the university was simple. His duties as Head Master where many but he also managed to teach a few classes as need demanded. Esme ran the day to day operations of the kitchen staff as well as their own individual home and she reigned at Hostess at Evening Respite as if she herself was royalty. Carlisle was content in the running of his university as he came to think of it and tried not to let the rumbling of some Fellows on staff at his timely placement as Head Master.
Carlisle's only one vice was his love of young men and their flesh. He had been of the persuasion of lying with men since he was a young man himself. He loved the feel of muscled chests and arms. The way a man's abdomen would quiver and tremble in the throes of ecstasy. A hard throbbing cock in his hand would make his own stand up with his seed leaking from the tip. Scruff from his lovers chin rubbing across his own arse could make him moan in pleasure. What he didn't enjoy was doing his duty with Esme. Thank goodness she had been adverse to the whole act and did not require his attention in such matters anymore. Being well past desire to have a child, she had not invited him to her bed in several years. The thought of touching her now made him nauseatingly ill.
Being at university was the perfect place for Carlisle to feed his desires and he took full advantage of those students and Fellows who might show any inkling of interest. He was quite content to live out his days here in these hallowed halls. Quite content indeed.
Three different men all having the same need are about to be thrown into a mystery of murder and madness that one of them might not survive; all of them hiding a secret that could throw them into the public eye where they would be ridiculed and punished for desires that they cannot help.
London Daily News
Sunday, 3rd of September 1904
Last eve constables found another body, another young fair haired man bringing the body count to seven over the last three months. What is Scotland Yard doing about, I ask you? True all of the young were employed in a rather dubious position. True all of them were not from noble birth. But yet there is a killer loose in our streets and nothing is being done to stop him. These poor lads were thrown away by their families, left with no choice but to seek employment of the lowest kind, selling themselves to men who would use and abuse them.
There's a reason my good people of London why there is a punishment of two years hard labor for men who are caught and tried for lying with other men. It is a crime against God. It is a crime against nature. It is a crime against good King Edward himself. Men who purchase these young boys should be punished there is no doubt. But whoever is murdering these young boys in cold blood should be hung from the highest yardarm we can erect in this city.
I beseech you citizens of London demand justice for these dead souls. Demand Scotland Yard put their best men on this case and solve this crime before the madman responsible decides to go after innocent young men as well as those he deems unworthy of life.
Michael J. Newton, Senior Journalist
Just so you know the term 'Fellows' refers to a professor or teacher in a university during the 1900's. They normally wore a long black gown over their suits when they were in public or teaching much like a robe we might wear at a graduation. A 'Head Fellow' would be like the head of a department supervising other teachers and a 'Head Master' like a principal. Or at least that was my simple interpretation of the terms.
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