Rupert Mountjoy: The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.I

But soon the path was clear of trees and though I was still a mite apprehensive, I was now also slightly ashamed of my first concerns. After all, the Queen's Highway was free to all and I was probably just being tracked for fun by a young son of one of the farmworkers whom my father employed to till our arable fields. If anything, the sun now shone even more brightly. Soon after I crossed the meandering country lane that led to the Harrogate road I sat down to rest for a moment or two on a mossy bank. It stood on the verge of a meadow owned by our neighbour Doctor Charles Wigmore, whose sixteen-year-old daughter Diana was a girl whose beauty struck me tongue-tied and left me awkwardly attempting to remember my manners on the few occasions when we had found ourselves together in company. Momentarily a picture of the delightful Diana flashed across my mind as I allowed my rucksack to rest along the slope of the hillock and I stretched my arms and yawned, at peace with the world. I sat for a minute or two and then heaved myself up again-only to hear the quickening approach of another traveller behind me. I turned to see that standing only some twenty yards away was none other than the lovely Diana Wigmore herself, also dressed for the heat of the summer in a white linen blouse and a similarly coloured dress which barely reached more than a couple of inches below the knees of her uncovered legs. She really looked the acme of feminine perfection, being a lovely rosy-cheeked girl with a gay twinkle in her bright blue eyes. She wore her tresses of light ash blonde hair gracefully pinned up around her graceful neck, and young and inexperienced though I was regarding the fair sex, her saucy little nose and pouting lips, together with the clearly visible heaving of her proud young breasts as she recovered from her sudden exertion, set my own heart pounding at a fair rate of knots. 'Good morning, Miss Wigmore,' I said shyly, congratulating myself on for the first time speaking to this gorgeous girl without stuttering or blushing furiously with nervousness. 'Have you been running to catch up with me? I thought there was someone on my trail but you kept yourself invisible every time I looked around to see who my mysterious follower could be.' This time it was Diana whose face coloured up with genuine embarrassment. 'Oh Rupert, I do apologise – I know I should have called out to you at least a mile back. You looked deep in thought, and I thought it would be rude to disturb you.' 'I wasn't meditating about anything more important than how best to begin collecting birds' eggs for my collection. I haven't even started yet and I was only thinking as to whether I'd find anything in the nests at this time of the year.' She smiled and a delicious dimple appeared on the side of her face. 'I don't know much about the habits of birds,' she said. 'Is your quest for schoolwork or simply for your own entertainment?' 'It's not very important at all – I just thought it a good excuse to get out of doors on such a fine day. I could have gone angling with my father but, between ourselves, I find the sport boring though I know that many people derive much pleasure from the pursuit.' Diana sighed and said: 'You are a lucky boy, Rupert. I have some holiday work which must be finished by the end of the vacation. As we are going on the Grand Tour next week I must complete my portfolio to gain the certificate in art which I need to go on to further studies at college next term.' 'I didn't know you were an artist, Miss Wigmore.' 'Oh please call me Diana, Rupert. All my friends do-and you are my friend, aren't you?'

'I would love to be,' I said boldly, 'and I just wish there was something I could do to help you in your work. But I can hardly draw a straight line and I know very little about painting!' *But there is something you can do, Rupert, though I hardly dare ask you,' she burst out. 'Well, if we are friends, you should be able to ask anything of me- all I can promise is to do my best to oblige. But if I cannot help I will just say so and nothing is lost.'*You are a sweet boy. Very well then, I will take up your offer but promise me you won't be too shocked and that, whatever happens, you will keep this conversation secret,' she demanded.

'I give you my word,' I said, puzzled by the earnest look on her pretty face. This must be a matter of very great importance to you. So again, how may I be of assistance?' Diana slowly expelled a deep breath. 'Rupert, you might know that I attend Nottsgrove Academy, a progressive institution which believes in the equality of opportunity for women in both political and cultural matters. As far as art is concerned, Mrs. Bidder, our art mistress, firmly believes that painters are often forced to suffer varying degrees of injustice from financial problems. This is due to a misunderstanding or dislike of their finest work by patrons or the ruling artistic establishment. For women, there has always been a further prejudice against which to battle which is why so few women have made any serious headway in this field.' I listened patiently for even at this early age I had already realised the uselessness of interrupting when someone has climbed upon a hobbyhorse-and, anyhow, I enjoyed looking at this pretty girl who obviously cared passionately about her subject.

'There is still a bar against women at meeting places such as clubs or, heaven forbid, a genuine studio! Even at this early stage, I cannot find a subject for my figure studies. This is where I need your help, Rupert,' she added bluntly. 'I will not beat about the bush. I want you to pose for me whilst I make some charcoal sketches.'

'But that hardly seems an onerous task.' I declared, slightly puzzled by her words. 'Why, I'm truly flattered to be asked and I'd be delighted to help out. Look, I'm free this very minute if you would like to begin work straightaway.' Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled. 'Oh Rupert, what a kind offer! Well, if you really mean it, just a half mile or so through that stile there is a perfect place where I have set up my easel. On the ground lie my pencils and brushes. I've also brought along a small hamper, but Cook always packs too much and there'll be more than enough food for both of us.'

'It doesn't matter as I also have some sandwiches and a bottle of ginger pop in my rucksack.' 'Well, that would seem to settle it.

You really mean it, Rupert? Shall we really start here and now?' she asked eagerly, seemingly surprised that I made so little of the matter. 'Why not?' I said gallantly and gestured for her to lead the way. As Diana had promised, we did not have far to walk before finding ourselves in one of the numerous interesting copses on her father's property through which ran several shady footpaths hidden from the view of any passer-by. Sure enough, she had set up her equipment on a blanket spread out on a level piece of ground where I dumped my rucksack. 'Here we are then,' she called out. 'It's such a pleasant day and the light is quite superb just now. Gosh, I can hardly wait to begin. Are you ready Rupert? Yes? Jolly good-we won't be disturbed in such a quiet spot. I suggest you get undressed over here and put your clothes on the blanket.' I could not believe what I had heard and I looked at her in astonishment. 'What the deuce do you mean, Diana? Take off my clothes, did you say?'

She looked at me with a trace of impatience in her gaze.*Yes, of course, my love, how else would I be able to sketch the male figure if not from an uncovered form?' So this is why Diana was at first diffident about asking for my assistance! And why she was so happy to hear me consent to model for her without any fuss! I had assured her of my aid and it would be dishonourable and cowardly to break my word.

I will readily admit that I could not bear to appear foolish in front of this gorgeous creature who, if I backed away from this challenge, would probably never deign to speak to me again! So I took a deep breath and said: 'All my clothes, Diana?' 'Yes, dear,' she said steadily. 'Otherwise I would be unable to do either of us justice. So do be quick about it and then I'll show you just how I would like you to stand.' I hesitated still. Sensing my modesty, she added encouragingly: 'Come on, Rupert, there's really nothing to it. Look, if it makes you feel any easier, I'll kick off my shoes and take off this blouse and skirt. It's so hot that I'll feel far more comfortable just dressed in my chemise.' I closed my eyes, for the dreadful thought flashed through my brain that if I even took the most fleeting of glances at the sight of Diana Wigmore clad solely in a chemise, it would be impossible to prevent my penis from instantly betraying my secret sensual desires. As it was, like all boys at this difficult age, I had little enough control over my prick which would swell up sometimes for no good reason and which demanded the attention of my closed fist at least three times a day. Still, I had no avenues of retreat, so I sat down on the stump of a nearby tree and removed my shoes and socks. Then, drawing upon every ounce of valour in my body, I turned away and slipped down my shorts and drawers together and wriggling out of them, stood with my flapping white athletic vest covering just the upper part of my backside. I exhaled slowly before raising my arms and pulling off my remaining garment to stand totally naked in front of this amazing girl. To her credit, Diana appeared to be unconcerned about her first sight of my bare body.

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