Somewhere in another time and place.
The footman slumped in a stupor somewhere in a dark corner of the cold cellar enjoying the last of a half finished claret.
The old nanny dosed in her bath chair remembering better days when the castle was filled with sweet smelling flowers, fresh every day. She slowly picked up her hair brush and moved it gently though her grey hair. She had been beautiful once, the late baron had enjoyed her private company himself many times after his son and daughter in law had been killed in the accident. That brush had kept his grandson under control in the nursery on many an occasion. He had not been so wild back then.
The baron strode across the driveway toward the stables, leather crop in hand. He remembered when he had first understood the value of the whip. He must have been ten or eleven when he had made his first stubborn young pony clear the fence it had not wanted to jump.
Then he remembered his grandfather and how he and that wicked nanny had applied various implements to his own young hide in his childhood to correct his ways. He smiled as he thought of his new situation. The orphans were heading their way now. Homes were needed for the programme and his was a rather ample home. His pedigree and wealth made him the perfect host. The old doctor who allocated the boys had certainly done well with the first boy and there was the promise of more to come.
The old doctor walked the length of the line of young boys who were now alone and helpless in the world. He chose a young one, the prettiest. The baron would reward him for allocating this one as he had the last.
In a dimly lit and cold room on the fourth floor of the castle a candle flickered and cast its shadows which caused the ten year old boy more alarm. His wrists and ankles hurt where the thin leather strap had made a viscious red indentation in his flesh. His right wrist was bleeding. He was almost double and could not move. He felt a slight trickle run down his right thigh before falling onto the stone floor. The lacerated buttock stung badly. He sobbed uncontrollably.
The thin eight year old looked gaunt and miserable. He was confused. What had happened to his parents and his older sister. The man shouted at them and they held hands and climed up the steps and onto the train.
He had never seen a train before and it was dakr and he was frightened. It had begun to rain lightly.
The steam left the funnel. The noise was loud. The boy was frightened. He looked at the others and they seemed frightened as well. One started to cry, then they all started to cry. The man shouted again and slapped the tallest boys face. The boy fell off his seat, clutched the side of his face and climed back into his place. They all fell silent.
The train pulled off to begin its journey west.