Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Twenty Seven - Part Two

4

Joan Landon, the vicar’s wife, looked out the rear window of her morning room while her husband, Eric, twittered on about his next sermon, looking at the corner of the garden where she and… that man had done… what they did the night before.

She was a slender lady in her middle years and though they did not own great wealth by any means, she always did her best to dress, and act, with dignity.

She simply couldn’t believe what she had done the night before and felt profound guilt now. She had broken God’s law, gone against the marriage vows that had always been sacred to her and risked everything.

In the heat of the moment last night, seeing Burt triumph in the boxing ring over her husband and all the other men in the village, she hadn’t let herself consider the consequences. It had been such an adventure. And the… act itself had been wonderful. Really wonderful, in a way that her couplings with Eric had never been.

Thinking about it took her right back to the moment and allowed her to feel the pleasure again but it also made her angrier with self-recrimination. She knew it was wrong – dreadfully wrong – but she’d done it anyway. She had behaved deplorably. She had betrayed her husband and the Lord in the most despicable way.

But God help her, she wanted to do it again.

She crossed herself.

What if that filthy urchin told others what they had got up to? What if her reputation was ruined? Butterflies flew round her stomach. It would be awful. She could never show her face again. And her husband would surely send her away. She would be destitute and shunned, a scarlet lady. She couldn’t imagine a worse fate.

The patch of grass where it had happened was just in her eye line. She sidestepped to improve her view, continuing to ignore the low voice of her husband.

In her memory, she was guiding Burt to that spot by his hand, feeling the intense build-up of anticipation. She was looking up into his face, at the cut on his lip. They were getting down onto the ground together. He was reaching for her skirts. She was telling him she had to see him naked. He was smiling at her; unbuttoning his shirt.

Joan Landon closed her eyes, commanding herself to stop these silly fancies. She was not going to think about this man again.

And she certainly wasn’t going to meet with him again! That would be unthinkable!

5

Lady Ann was starting to find this luncheon as tedious as those with the old ladies her grandmamma had subjected her to.

They were eating out in the sumptuous dining room of the Grosvenor Hotel as a farewell to her new family. Her parents and sister were taking the early afternoon train back north to Yorkshire and Ann couldn’t help but feel sorry that they were leaving.

She knew they weren’t her real family but with the time they’d spent together here in London and the plethora of inherited memories she had of them, they really felt like blood. And they weren’t the dirty servants and bumpkins her original Burt family had been. These were cultured aristocrats with the same values that she now shared. Being a part of this family was delightful, even if Hattie could be abominable at times. But then what little sisters weren’t?

The current topic of conversation was frustrating. Ann wanted to talk about Yorkshire or her trip to Brighton. Instead, Richard and her father were discussing Richard’s many business enterprises. The Earl was obviously greatly impressed with his drive to expand his empire. Her father was a rich man – there was no doubt about that – but his business dealings tended to be local: farm holdings, investments in coal mines and such. Lord Hurley was substantially more wealthy and focused on the development of his businesses. It was probably fascinating for them but this discussion was driving her mad.

“Richard darling,” she said. “Don’t you think we’ve talked about business dealings enough? I’d much rather we talked about lighter matters. There are some plays I’ve seen here in London that I wanted to tell my mother and Hattie about.”

Both the Earl and Richard instantly stopped talking but the silence was an unpleasant one and Ann sensed she’d overstepped some mark she hadn’t known existed. Richard turned to face her and the look in his eyes was stern and removed. “Ann dear, if you don’t mind, the men are talking. I’ll thank you not to interrupt.”

She was so startled Ann didn’t speak for a moment, then she said, “But I was hoping we could—”

“Ann,” said Richard firmly. “I’d thank you to keep quiet while we are discussing business. Is that clear?”

She sat silent, staring at him as he turned back to the Earl and resumed his conversation. Both the Countess and Hattie were eyes-down at their plates. Ann couldn’t believe it. She started to open her mouth to speak again but thought better of it and said nothing. But she went on stewing about it.

She didn’t see why she should be forbidden from talking just because she wasn’t a man…

6

 As he struggled back from the fields with a huge sack of grain in his arms, Burt dwelled on the reasons for his sudden demotion.

He couldn’t believe he’s had his duties taken away from him. As far as he now knew, he had always been a hardworking man and to have his responsibility removed was deeply demoralizing. He kicked himself for not working hard enough, not following his orders to the letter and quickly enough. He was too big a dunce, that was the problem. Everyone knew how thick he was and none as well as he did himself. He should have been better rather than being so thick all the time. He hated being stupid. He couldn’t be trusted to do anything!

But it wasn’t fair. He’d done the job for years. He didn’t understand why he’d got so much worse at it lately. It was like he was even stupider than he’d always been.

The memory of the exchange was still in his brain somewhere, but it had been tucked so firmly away that he didn’t recall it directly at all anymore. If he had then he might have realized that he only had himself to blame. The pendant had swapped their physical forms and started them on the path toward the mental ones. It was the repeated declarations Burt had made that had guided the transformation further.

He had told himself over and over again that he was a dim-witted clodhopper and each time he’d done it he had pushed the change past the point Burt’s original IQ had sat. He hadn’t become a duplicate of the original Burt. Far worse; he had become the Burt he had thrust himself into: an idiot good-for-nothing bumpkin who was as thick as two short planks.

And now he didn’t even know it anymore. He didn’t have the wits to realize how much he had lost, let alone to take steps to regain his old life.

He was well and truly trapped in a hole he had dug for himself.

Jeb was outside the stable chatting to Harry when Burt came into view. Harry finished what he was saying and nodded to Jeb, then he set off down the drive.

“Eh up Burt,” said Jeb.

“Ahright,” he replied.

“Shove that grain back in the store then get back out ere. I’ve got some more work for you.”

“Eh?”

“Arry’s ad to go off and check on his wife. She’s got a fever. He’s left me in charge.”

“You? In charge?”

“Aye. And there’s a long list of jobs need doing before he gets back so you’d better hop to it.”

“But…” Burt felt crestfallen. “We’re mates.”

“Yes. Well. I got me this job now Burt, so things might be a bit different. Go and drop off that grain in the barn.”

Burt looked toward the Barn then back at Jeb.

“Go on then! Hurry up! There’s lots to do and you can’t drag your feet. Harry’s been telling me how slow you can be but so long as I’m in charge I’ll not ave that. It’s a bad reflection on me if he’s left me in control and I can’t keep a tight ship – especially on me first day.”

Burt just stood there, his mouth hanging open.

“Now!” cried Jeb, pointing toward the barn.

Burt hurried off with the grain sack, feeling cowed. How did it come to this that his best mate was lording it over him? It wasn’t right. A tiny part of him whispered that it went against nature that he should be in such a position but he knew that wasn’t right. Harry had left Jeb in charge and he had to follow his orders. As long as Harry wasn’t around, Jeb was his master now. He deserved every bit of respect and obedience that the old man did.

Burt dumped the grain down with the others in storage and hurried back outside. Jeb was waiting with his thumbs hooked into his belt. “Right good. That’s better. Now get yourself a spade. There’s an irrigation ditch needs digging over yonder. I’ll walk up there and tell you where.”

Burt nodded and rushed into the stables to get his spade.

“Hurry up,” called Jeb.

“Sorry sir.” Burt quickly came out with the spade.

“Right, come with me,” said Jeb. “Harry’ll be back later. I want enough of this ditch dug so as he’ll be satisfied.”

“Aye ahright.”

“I feel bad ordering you about Burt,” said Jeb as they walked, “but it’s got to be done. You’re beneath me now. That’s all there is to it. It’s nothing personal.”

“Yes sir,” said Burt, but he felt awful. He couldn’t believe what a difference one day had made and how low he’d sunk. But what other choice did he have?

This was his lot in life and it always had been.