Old English Rigid (Vivid+)

 I am strolling through the streets of London with an older gentleman and a young girl. All of us are wearing extraordinarily fine and detailed ornate clothing. It's as if we were 19th century dolls in a British museum. The fabric in our costumes is almost rigid. The old man is the most ornate and has endless brass buttons, lined multilayer pockets, frill extending from his sleeves, stockings, shiny black shoes, on and on. The young girl is similarly dressed. My clothes may be similar, but they are not in view.

We are marching in a very stern  manner, just shy of being dragged. Our destination is unclear and 100% the purview of our apparent master. He seems to have a particular disdain for me but I am arguing or resisting in some way. He gets more and more angry. His sternness turns into cruelty towards me.  It escalates until finally we stop and he disposits me in an enclosed  horse driven carriage. It is obvious this is the end of our association and I am abruptly abandoned. 

I am now almost panicked with concern for the girl. They are proceeding to march down the street but my view is obscured by the crows and the divider in the carriage window. I can only catch glimpses of the two of them. It is suddenly obvious he has struck or harmed her in some way. She may be on the ground. I jump from the carriage and see she has indeed been assaulted. 

He is now in his lavishly furnished apartment he entered with an ornate key on a round brass fob. His assault on her continues. I reach him and throttle him and stop the assault. Now he shifts to seemingly care for the child by placing her in a wooden cradle filled with water. The scene continues on the street in front of his home. While appearing to be bathing her, fully clothed, in fact he has brought her unconscious body to rest with her mouth and nose under the water. Small bubbles are coming out of her nose. She is obviously drowning. I pull her still unconscious body up with her head above the water line. I turn and throttle him into submission. The police are called.

I am now in the police station and I see the ornate key hanging from his vest. I grab it and we struggle as he tries to choke me. I viciously bite his hand, pull the key from his grip and stand with it victoriously. The key is to our future.

Notes: No hint of lucidity, but extremely detailed visually. I don't recall a dream in such a specific historical period.