My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 1

London, England - August 1920

    The heels of Henry's black leather dress shoes clicked against the wet pavement as he walked down Regent Street. His gaze latently fixated upon the glistening wet pavement ahead as the gas lamps that lined the street seemed to give it an almost sparkling illusion.  He travelled alone, though the sounds of motors whizzing past and the distant chattering of ladies and gents as they made their merry way made him seem less alone; less anxious, even as he trekked along through the dreary and drizzly London autumn night.

    For the young and dashing twenty-seven year old Lord Henry Aldringham, the world was quite literally resting entirely in his palm. Born the younger son of Richard Aldringham, 11th Duke of Hertford and the Lady Alice Dunmurry, the daughter of the Duke of Ulster and cousin to King George V; Henry Aldringham spent his entire upbringing surrounded by luxury, power, influence and privilege. He attended the most elite all-boys public boarding schools that the country had to offer, spent most of his holidays in the family's country estate in Hertfordshire, Aldringham Manor, and the summer season in Aldringham House; the family's London home in Knightsbridge. And though Henry seemed like every other handsome young man born into the English aristocracy, his life was quite contrary to conventionality. 

    Unlike his brothers Lord Edward, Viscount Hillingdon and the Lord Matthew, Marquis of Argyle who had both chosen to read Law at Cambridge just as their father had as well as many patriarchs before them; Henry chose to go to Oxford to read Medicine, something his father found to be a terribly inappropriate choice of occupation for the youngest son of a Duke. Nonetheless Henry persevered and completed his medical degree and went on to serve King and Country as a Royal Medical Army Corp medic in France during the Great War. Now at twenty seven, Henry found himself happy as can be, working as a general practitioner at the Kensington Infirmary not far from his family's London home in Knightsbridge.

    Whilst the Duke and Duchess rather preferred to stay in their stately home, Aldringham Manor; Henry, his older brothers and his younger sister, Lady Georgina far preferred life in the city to the country. Unfortunately for Georgina and Edward, Aldringham Manor was where life seemed to always want them; Edward helping his dear Papa with the running of the estate while the wretched sixteen year old Georgina was forcibly kept at home to keep her Mama company and take history, French, and etiquette lessons under the watchful eye of her Bavarian governess whom she detested; though for whatever reason she absolutely adored young Lord Henry.

    But Henry seemed to have that effect on people; charming anyone and everyone he'd meet. Some credited his sharp wit and humour, while others chalked it up to his handsome face, perfectly styled pin-straight dark brown, nearly black hair, flawless alabaster skin, and mysteriously alluring sapphire blue eyes. He had this way of smiling that enchanted everyone who witnessed it; an attractive lad in both beauty, brains, and charm.

    But what most didn't realise is that the handsome, suave, and often intoxicatingly charming young Lord Henry Aldringham, had a deep dark secret that nobody could ever know about. In 1920s Great Britain, much like the rest British Empire as well as the world, men like Henry, whom were then referred to as 'confirmed bachelors', 'fairies', 'queers' and by other terms assigned to men who loved men, lived predominately in the shadows. And what more could be expected of them, when their sexual orientation and love was seen as 'unnatural', 'deviant', and very much 'illegal'.

    There were few countries where homosexual relations had been decriminalised at the time, but unfortunately for Henry and men like him across the British Empire, homosexuality was a criminal offence under the British Penal code. And whilst men like Henry lived their lives in the shadows, it didn't go to say that in those back alley pubs and discrete corners of restaurants, gay men of the times didn't crack on living their lives. Nonetheless there always was the looming threat that they could indeed face prison time, on top of forced castration and not to mention the social ramifications of being labelled as a 'pervert' or 'sexual deviant'.