The Secret Chronicles of Henry Dashwood, Vol. 2

Toddington,' commented Sir Richard Hawton. 'I was always given to understand that anyone caught with a harem girl would at best be singing falsetto the next day!' Alfred expelled a deep breath and said: 'Quite so, although as the Rajah is an Old Etonian, I don't think he would have exacted such a draconian revenge upon me. Indeed it was with that thought in mind that I muttered to myself some words from the Kama Sutra which I had recently been reading, namely that in our wild and dangerous world, we must drink deeply from the cup of sensual joy lest it be suddenly dashed from our lips. So I heaved myself up and also undressed. Gita giggled when she caught a glimpse of the physical evidence of my unslaked passion before I waded into the river to join her. 'I must say that her observations about swimming in the nude were quite true and I revelled in the sense of total freedom. I lay on my back, wallowing in this sensuous joy when Gita came up to me and slipped her hand around um, a certain protuberance-' 'A certain protuberance?' repeated Sir Richard Hawton, whose flushed face made me wonder if the colour was not only down to the considerable amount of Chablis he had drunk but also whether Elena's toes were playing around in the vicinity of his groin in the same fashion as they had done around mine during dinner on the previous night. 'Don't be mealy-mouthed, sir, you mean she clutched your stiffstander, h'm?' “That would be another way of putting it, as Lily Langtry said to Oscar Wilde,' chortled Charles, receiving a sharp nudge in the ribs from Cassie for his pains as Alfred continued: 'After a while we swam back to the shore and dabbed ourselves dry with the makeshift towel though as Gita had said, it was hardly necessary to do so as the warm sun quickly evaporated all the moisture from our bodies. 'We lay naked on the sheet and somehow it seemed the most natural thing in the world was to lean over and kiss Gita. She immediately responded by sliding her tongue between my teeth in a long, probing kiss. My hands descended to her thrilling young breasts and her lingers slid down to grasp my pulsing erection – but just as she lay back and parted her thighs we were interrupted by a cry of: “Hey there, you dirty rascals, what do you think you are up to?” 'I would have thought that was pretty obvious even to a celibate,' commented Fanny. Alfred gave a throaty c buckle and said: 'Alas, such a witty reply never occurred to me, perhaps because the owner of the voice was none Other than Father Oakhurst a devout Catholic who was travelling with his aunt and wished he'd never set foot in this “heathen” land. 'Of course, Father Oakhurst disapproved of the sins of the flesh and especially of carnal relationships between an Englishman and the native population.

'My God, what did you do?' asked Jenny curiously. 'Did you try to bribe him to keep silent about what he had seen?' Alfred shook his head and sighed: 'No, that would have been offensive.' 'So did he scurry off and tell the Rajah?' I enquired. Alfred chuckled and said: 'He would have done, but luckily I noticed that he was carrying his sketch book – sketching was an obsession of his. I guessed rightly that he would not have been able to resist sketching us in the water, and when I grabbed the book from him, I discovered that he had drawn several pictures of Gita's bare backside. 'Her bare backside!' spluttered Charles into his champagne. 'So was he one of those chaps who prefer to use the tradesmen's entrance?'

Alfred answered with a smile: 'Oh no, nothing like that. As I said, the good father is a celibate. But he was forced to explain his obsessive pursuit of the rather strange pastime of gluteusology, a hobby with which you will probably not be familiar. In brief, it is a somewhat esoteric branch of phrenology, the science of observing and measuring the sizes and shapes of people's heads which then enables a judgement to be made on their mental characteristics. Well, gluteusologists believe that human beings can also be classified by the shape of their bottoms and to help develop this theory, Father Oakhurst had been assiduously sketching derrieres for more than five years. 'I had made him promise to keep our secret but cheeky Gita bent down and allowed him to study her shapely brown buttocks. No doubt he has the sketches displayed in his bedroom at home to this day. Cassie winked at me and giggled: 'Was Father Oakhurst interested in all sorts of bums? Men's and women's of all ages?'

'Apparently not, Miss Morley,' he replied with a straight face.

'I have not seen his collection of sketches myself but I gather that he specialises in young female backsides and that the piece de resistance of his collection is of six girls displaying their supple little bottoms and bending down to peer through their parted legs.'