Roger sticks around to see what happens

Roger frowns at the bald man. "You said those of us with envelopes may leave, right? So it's an option?" He sits down and folds his arms. "In that case, I'll stick around and wait for my wife to be done with whatever this is. I don't feel this heat everyone's complaining about anyway, so I might as well."

The bald man sighs. "That is indeed acceptable, though I must warn you that it is not the course of action I would recommend. Those of you with envelopes who wish to stay must be made aware that they will not be permitted to interfere in what transpires next, at the penalty of forfeiting any potential inheritance and being immediately evicted from the premises."

There is much muttering around the room. A small handful of people leave the study, including every envelope-receiver of the farmer group, but most opt to stay with their families, taking their seats once again.

The man clears his throat. "Very well. Then, could those with envelopes please move to the seats at the back, and those without, please come to stand at the front here."

Roger is already at the back, so stays seated. He pulls Becky in for a quick kiss on the cheek before she walks away. "I'll be right here," he says comfortingly.

She smiles with a trace of nervousness. "I know. Let's just hope this doesn't take too long."

She walks up to the front, joining the rest of the plus-ones stood awkwardly around the pulpit. They are all visibly damp with sweat and breathing heavily, and Becky can understand why. The heat in here is seriously starting to feel unbearable!

The rest of the envelope-bearers come to join Roger at the back. Charles Marsh sits on Roger's left, and Lola Hayes on his right.

"So, this smells like some serious bullshit, right?" Lola quips. "Is it just me?"

Charles looks shocked enough to pop a monocle, were he wearing one. "Good Madame! Such language!"

Roger half-raises his hand to interject. "You agree that there's something suspicious about this though, right?"

Charles huffs. "Absolutely! I would never have gone along with it, but my wife is rather sensitive to heat. Not that it feels particularly warm in here..."

"You guys don't feel it either?" Lola asks, surprised. "I thought it was just me not getting what everyone was bitching about."

Roger eyes the sweat glistening on her skin. Charles scoffs. "I had assumed it was a female thing. Perhaps I was wrong."

Lola shrugs. "I feel it a little bit, but I'd hardly call it anything major."

On that note, Roger notices that the group of envelope-havers is primarily made up of men, while the group at the front is almost all female.

The man in the tailcoat, satisfied that everyone is in place, clears his throat again. "Now, could everyone at the front please remove every item of clothing which they are currently wearing."

"WHAT?!" Charles is on his feet and marching down the aisle almost immediately.

The bald man glares at him and snaps his fingers. A dainty-looking maid appears from a side-door and quickly walks towards Charles. "Mr Marsh, this outburst has necessitated a delay in proceedings. This constitutes an interference, which you were warned about."

The maid, with surprising ease, grabs Charles and hoists him into a fireman's lift. While he kicks, flails and yells with indignation, she paces briskly across the room and exits through the main door. His voice quickly fades away into the distance.

Mr Marsh's wife and daughter move to follow him, but the bald man speaks up. "Mrs Marsh. Despite your husband's withdrawal, I'm afraid that you and your daughter are still not permitted to leave."

"This is absurd," she remarks snidely. "If Charles no longer stands to receive anything from you, then for what reason should we stay here and let ourselves be humiliated? Come along, Alice."

The bald man watches without emotion as the two women stride across the room and push open the ornate door. As soon as they cross the threshold, they are engulfed in a bright flash! Roger watches in horror as pink electrical energy courses through their bodies. They scream and panic for a few seconds, before falling silent and dropping to the floor. The energy disperses, and their bodies are revealed clearly. They are naked, charred and unmoving.

Everyone is too stunned to speak. The room is still, looking at the burnt women in fearful disbelief.

The bald man claps his hands for attention. "It seems an explanation is in order. Could everyone of the front group please put a finger and thumb together, with a gap of roughly one millimetre, and observe the gap closely?"

In too much shock to think, many of the group follow the instruction blindly, including Becky. She watches as her finger approaches her thumb, and sees a jolt of pink lightning jump across the gap. She flicks her hand in surprise, as if she had received a static shock, which it had kind of felt like. Except that the sensation it carried was not pain, but pleasure.

"This house is sexually charged," the bald man explains, "and I use that term quite literally. A sexual energy infests those who enter these premises, and it can be quite dangerous for those who have not yet built up a resistance to it. Once you have been sufficiently charged, crossing the threshold of a room will cause an immediate discharge, as you just witnessed."

He looks to Roger's group, and answers their question before they can ask it. "Those of you with envelopes have received with them a blessing of protection of the patruus, and with it a substantial resistance to this sexual energy."

He looks back to the front group. "But for those without, the only way to safely discharge themselves is by being brought to orgasm by somebody else. Therefore, for your own good... please, strip."