It may only be October but I have received an invitation to spend Christmas and New Year with, notorious cad, Lord x of x at his ostentatious castle in the Scottish Highlands.
Lord x comes from a long line of scoundrels that have brought nothing but disgrace to the English Aristocracy. His great grandfather was a founding member of The Hell Fire Club. His father was embroiled in the Lucan Affair that, to this day, casts a blood-stained shadow over London’s elite.
His very name is, therefore, synonymous with intrigue and scandal. His name is often linked with one dishonourable affair or another. Usually of a sexual nature. Usually with someone’s wife, girlfriend or fiancée.
He is a throwback to the very worst of Victorian society where blue bloods would ride roughshod over English society and morals. When they found themselves with their backs to the walls, they would cry for assistance from their Eton chums in Whitehall or the government. They would get it and then carry on regardless. Free to resume their life of pleasure and decadence.
The recent sordid coverage in The Sun detailing his perverse sex life where he is reported to regularly engage in activities like corporal punishment and bondage are testament to his continued immorality.
The power that still resides with these anachronistic ‘gentlemen’ is staggering. This very piece will be scrutinised and, astonishingly, cleared by him.
No stranger to the courts, or rather his Barrister is no stranger acting on his behalf, this very newspaper has lined his pockets with well over £250,000 in the last ten years alone, having to settle on at least six libel actions.
Dark stories abound that he engages in deadly duels. That he consorts with gangland bosses and dubious political figures. That he has a lion that roams around his parkland.
The latest rumour circulating at London dinner parties is that he has set up a website where, hiding behind a pseudonym, he openly boasts of his latest outrages. I stress this is a rumour as no evidence has been found that such a site exists. In fact, in the age of Twitter and Facebook, he is strangely absent.
It is a mystery why he would choose me to join him at what will be, no doubt, two whole weeks of excess of the very worst kind. Perhaps he feels we have something in common or wishes to show me that he remains England’s greatest cad.
As for the invitation, it is RSVP. My answer will be, an emphatic, yes.
The above content may or may not have originated from an article printed in The Daily Mail on the 3rd of this month, inst.
If it had really, actually, appeared in The Daily Mail it would have a clearance reference number.
Something like: DMG/CCD/209985e