
Around The World In 69 Days
Victorian ENF adventures across the globe.
Chapter 1
by imaginedslight
“Absurd,” sneered Lady Evelyn Crooke, sitting in a plush armchair on the top floor of the Petticoat Club. Rain spattered the windows. A roaring fire blazed in the hearth of the club’s common room, where the most intelligent, respectable and forward-thinking women in London came to debate the issues of the day with like-minded individuals. “It can’t be done.”
“I say it can.”
“And I say it can’t.”
“And I say to you, with utmost confidence, that it can.”
“In just sixty-nine days? Poppycock. Eighty, perhaps…”
“In just sixty-nine days,” declared Miss Fiona Fairweather, woman of independent means, and one of the Petticoat Club’s most reliable and dignified members, “an experienced traveller could circumnavigate the globe. I do not say it would be easy. But it could be done.”
The two women glared at each other. They made quite a contrast.
Lady Evelyn, a haughty, raven-haired woman in a devilishly simple, yet elegant, black silk dress, was every bit the condescending aristocratic villain. Anne Hathaway might have played her in the movie, or perhaps Eva Green.
Fiona, with her mop of golden curls and her buxom figure, was a fine flower of English womanhood, and obviously the heroine. She might convincingly have been portrayed by a larger-breasted version of Elle Fanning, or just possibly Barbara Windsor of the Carry On films.
The club had fallen silent. Even the servants had paused in their vital work to see how the argument came out. Lady Evelyn was the first to speak.
“Shall we make a small wager?” she said.
“On what terms?”
“Oh, for a matter of such magnitude as this, only the very highest stakes will do. Shall we say… Hellfire?”
Quickly silenced gasps from the watching women. Fiona’s face did not change, though she watched Lady Evelyn very carefully indeed.
“Servants,” she commanded. “Bring us the Book of Forfeits, if you would be so kind.”
The head maid was summoned from her bedroom, with her golden key. The heavy, leather-bound book, several centuries old, was brought down from its special cupboard in the Petticoat Club library and laid on the table before Fiona, who carefully prized it open. She licked her finger, and began to browse through its ancient dusty pages.
“The Shaved Hedgehog,” she read. “Defeated party is to have all her pubic hair plucked out with tweezers in the presence of twelve witnesses of the victor’s choosing. Would this not satisfy you?”
“I am afraid not.”
“The Modern Godiva. Defeated party is to undergo a horseback ride of no less than three hours’ duration through any population centre of the victor’s choosing, without benefit of clothing of any kind. A most unappetising destiny. You desire worse?”
“I do.”
“The Naughty Vicar. Defeated party is to attend morning service at St. Paul’s Cathedral every day for six weeks running without fail, in attire of the victor’s choosing, and to be spanked naked on the cathedral steps by the Archbishop of Canterbury every Sunday afternoon. It’s only been done once, in 1783, to a duchess who insisted the American Revolution would all be over by Christmas.”
“And yet, it is not Hellfire.”
“I see. The terms of the bet?”
“According to my watch, it is precisely noon. You are to be back in this precise location, sixty-nine days from now, having in the intervening period circumnavigated the globe.”
“The loser to be subject to Hellfire?”
“Indeed.”
“I accept,” said Fiona, rising from her seat. “And now, if you will excuse me, I have some preparation to do.”
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Some time in the 19th century, our heroine Fiona Fairweather bets our villainess Lady Evelyn Crooke that she can travel around the world in just 69 days. The loser of the wager must pay the most humiliating forfeit of all time. Will Good triumph over Evil, Evil over Good or Embarrassment over both?
Updated on Jul 5, 2025
by imaginedslight
Created on Jul 5, 2025
by imaginedslight
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