Doctor Henry Jekyll came to a halt outside the door to Sir Francis Dashwood's room and unlocked it. A distinguished gentleman of fifty-seven years of age, the Doctor's hair was considerably greyed and cut severely short. He wore a pair of round-lensed spectacles with copper frames and had a florid face and a noticeable paunch to his belly. Entering the room he found Sir Francis seated in a far corner, yesterday's copy of the Times spread open before him. Dashwood was considerably younger than Doctor Jekyll, perhaps in his early thirties. His body was lean and fit from outdoor pursuits. His black hair was fashionably long with a neatly clipped goatee beard
"Ah, the good physician Jekyll. Good morning to your Doctor," Sir Francis greeted him jovially. "Most opportune timing, if you would be so kind to turn the page or perhaps free my hands?"
"And a good morning to you Sir Francis," Henry replied as he stooped to turn the page of the broadsheet newspaper. "I am afraid after the latest incident that it will be a day or two before the jacket may be removed and only dependent on your good behavior. The orderly that you sank your teeth into will almost certainly bear the scars to his grave."
Sir Francis sniggered unrepentantly at this news. The heavy canvas straitjacket with thick leather buckles he wore prevented a more animated response. He sat upon the floor with his legs spread wide before him, his back resting against the padded wall of his cell and the copy of the Times between his splayed legs.
"That damn peasant deserved it," Sir Francis asserted defiantly. "He had the temerity to manhandle me with no regard to my higher station."
"Hmmm, be that as it may once committed to our asylum certain rights and privileges must be dispensed with if you are to be cured," Henry patiently pointed out. "Whatever your former social rank you are by necessity obliged to obey the instructions of my staff."
"Committed you say!" Sir Francis objected. "Incarcerated against my will with no semblance of a trial by my peers as is required by the law of the land. A damned usurpation of my rights I say. Of what crime am I accused Sir? None that would stand a test of the courts."
"You ravished, degraded, and tortured the daughters of the Viscount Hinchingbrooke," Henry pointed out. "You and other members of your blasphemous Hellfire cult whom you refuse to name."
"Poppycock sir!" Sir Francis raised his voice imperiously. "Harriet and Henrietta Montague both willingly participated in the rites and rituals of our esoteric order and the fact that neither can be coerced to testify against me is the reason that common law was circumvented to incarcerate with total disregard to legal process."
Henry fell silent, the Montague twins had indeed refused every inducement to provide witness against Sir Francis. The pair were in fact recently admitted to this very asylum and secured a short walk away from the cell of Sir Francis. In his preliminary interview of the sisters they had both brazenly professed their willing association with the Hellfire cult and continuing loyalty to Sir Francis. The sordid details of their sexual debasement in said rituals had been recounted with obvious and shocking relish with no hint of shame or regret on their part. The twin's father had finally no option but to have the young women diagnosed to be suffering from acute female hysteria in the hope that placed under Doctor Jekyll care they might find some treatment to bring them to their senses once more.
"I can see that once more we reach an impasse Sir Francis," Henry said after the extended silence between the two men reached an uncomfortable length. "However hope is not lost, I have begun formulating a new treatment that I believe holds promise that could curb your violent nature and possibly facilitate your release back into society."
"Not another blasted invention from that charlatan Granville?" Sir Francis snapped in agitation. "As fascinating as I find being tortured by his electrical contraptions I see no therapeutic benefit in forcing such indignity upon me."
"As it happens no," Henry replied. "Though Granville's experimentation with electrical-powered devices shows great promise in my opinion this new treatment stems from my own field of expertise in biochemistry. An elixir I hope to perfect utilising a compound I have recently been able to isolate which I have designated oestradiol which occurs naturally in the human body. Increasing the quantity of this compound in the body through injection I believe it shows great promise. In my medical trials with lower mammals, it greatly reduced aggression and dominant behavior without manifesting any adverse effects that I could detect."
"So your hope to render me docile with some damned snake oil?" Sir Francis scoffed. "You are as much a fool as your underling Granville in that case. Attempt to interfere with human nature at your peril Doctor Jekyll, you will find that my will is not so easily broken."
Sir Francis turned his attention back to the copy of the Times laid out before him, studiously ignoring Henry's presence. With a sigh born of frustration, Doctor Jekyll removed himself from the presence of Dashwood and was just relocking the door to his cell when he became aware of the approaching figure of his newly engaged head nurse.
"Doctor Jekyll?" The Scots brogue voice was strong though undoubtedly that of a woman much like the figure to whom said voice belonged. "Doctor Granville asked me to inform you that he is ready for his treatment of the Montague sisters if you wished to observe."
"Ah yes. I recall he mentioned that he intended some refinement of his electrical apparatus," Henry replied. "Very well, we shall escort the patients to his office for treatment."
Nurse Georgina McTaggart fell in a couple of paces behind Doctor Jekyll as he walked to the new women's wing of the asylum. In her early thirties, Georgina was tall and statuesque, an inch or two under six feet. Her ash blonde hair was pulled severely back on her scalp and held in tightly coiled braids at the back of her head. Her strong features were best described as handsome rather than beautiful, rather androgynous but not unattractive. She wore an ankle-length white nursing dress with a pocketed apron over the top. The short walk to the newly refurbished wing was traversed in silence until they came to a halt outside a door in the whitewashed and antiseptic-scented corridor.
Henry unlocked the door and end then knocked, only proceeding to pass through once a duet of dulcet female voices had bid him enter. Unlike the padded cell in which Sir Francis was incarcerated the room of the Montague sisters was comfortable if simply furnished. A pair of narrow beds with plain but freshly laundered linen were bolted to the floor on opposite sides of the cell, only the incongruous broad leather straps fitted with buckled cuffs affixed to the frame of the bed at intervals marked them as differing from beds to be found outside of an insane asylum. A pair of wooden upholstered chairs, similarly bolted down as the beds were on each side of a small table. In the far corner of the room, a basin and mirror of polished metal provided some comfort and means for the young women to make themselves presentable.
Harriet and Henrietta were in their mid-twenties and by all contemporary standards of outstanding beauty. The twins' hair fell in strawberry blonde ringlets framing their angelic faces and falling over their shoulders. Dressed in thin cotton shifts the modest swell of the slim sister's breasts was discernable. The pair greeted Doctor Jekyll and Nurse McTaggert with beatific smiles as they entered.
"Good morning ladies," Henry greeted them politely once he had passed the threshold. "And how are we this morning?"
"Good morning Doctor," the twins answered in unison before Harriet continued. "And dear Georgie too of course. We are quite well thank you Doctor. Is it time for our treatment?"
Henry frowned slightly and glanced at Nurse McTaggart beside him. The familiar manner in which Harriet Montague addressed the nurse was slightly troubling and indicated that his newly employed staff had been too casual in her conversation with his young patients. He would need to speak to her on that matter in private later. For all their femininity and sweet smiles, the Montague twins possessed a certain feral cunning and were not beneath using their innocent and wholesome looks to manipulate the unwary.
"Yes indeed it is ladies," Henry responded to the question. "One hopes there will be no unseemly or willful protests or behavior this morning?"
"Of course not Doctor," the twins once more responded in unison, this time Henrietta continuing. "We apologise for our petulance, we were frightened and anxious the first time we were treated. We were ignorant of the medical procedure at that time, but with more knowledge, we both now were anticipating treatment with eagerness."