Jasper knocked and was bade enter by a low female voice. I imagined the possessor of it in a spangled housecoat and turban, smoking a cigarette and drinking a pink gin.
In fact she wore a sharp black suit – vintage, from the shop downstairs, I supposed – and her hair was scraped back into a bun. She looked severe, almost mannish, but also magnetically attractive. Behind her was a large bright skylit room, its walls entirely hidden by shelf after shelf and rack after rack of ravishing undergarments.
‘Miss Frost,’ said Jasper, and he took her hand and kissed the fingertips, which seemed to be the done thing.
‘Mr Jay,’ she said. ‘And your charming companion. Do come in.’
It was all thrillingly old-school and I was captivated from the start, despite feeling a little intimidated.
‘This is Miss Wells,’ Jasper introduced me.
‘How do you do, Miss Wells?’
‘Very well, thank you,’ I replied, out of my depth, swimming in a sea of luxury ribboned knickers and social anxiety.
‘You must take a seat. Can I offer you anything? I have all the teas you can think of, or coffee, or perhaps a glass of something?’
‘Actually, I’d love a glass of water,’ I said, while Jasper ordered a strong black coffee.
Miss Frost disappeared into a back kitchen, giving me an opportunity to gawp at my surroundings.
The corsets took up an entire wall. Every colour, every pattern, every fabric was represented. Some covered the bust, some didn’t. Some had chains and straps hanging from them, and were made of PVC or leather.
Oh, God. Was that what Jasper had in mind?
‘Which one were you thinking of?’ I whispered. Not sure why I whispered, but it wa
s a bit like being in church for some reason.
‘Oh, you won’t get it today,’ he said. ‘This will be bespoke, my love. Made to your … to my, actually … personal specification.’
I took in a quick breath.
‘You’re going to tell her what you want?’
‘Yes. And then she’ll make it.’
‘And I don’t get a say?’
He shook his head and patted my hand.
‘Don’t you trust me?’
As I tried to formulate a reply, Miss Frost interrupted me by returning to the room with a tea tray. Once drinks were dispensed, she came to business.
‘When you made the appointment, you mentioned having Miss Wells fitted for a corset,’ she said to Jasper.
‘Yes,’ he said, turning to me. ‘Miss Wells is very interested in the Victorians and I thought it might be a nice surprise for her.’
‘Ah, the Victorians. Tight lacing. Much tighter than a modern young lady might wish to tolerate.’ She was speaking to me now, and I appreciated her warning.
‘Yes, I know they were frowned upon by the medical establishment, even at the time. I’ve no desire for a twelve-inch waist, though. I don’t want an instrument of torture.’
‘Very sensible. Some do, of course …’ she said, trailing off and opening a desk drawer. ‘The first thing we must do is obtain measurements. If you wouldn’t mind stepping behind that screen and removing your clothes …’
‘Oh, there’s no need for the screen, is there?’ said Jasper.
Damn him. I knew he would do this. Turn the whole thing into some kind of elaborate humiliation-kink foreplay. But my nipples perked up the minute he spoke and a delicious fizz of erotic anticipation frothed up inside me.