Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Twenty Six - Part One

To Be a Man

1

Burt delivered the second of two great metal cylinders filled with milk to the back of the hall and turned to go but stopped when he heard his name.

“Burt! I want a word with you.”

He turned to see Powell, the butler, emerge from the kitchen doorway looking even more stern and unforgiving than he usually did.

“Yes sir?” he said, remembering only belatedly a time when this man would have followed his orders to the letter, instead of now, where he was the highest authority in Burt’s life shy of the Neville family and the good Lord. “Ow can I be o’service?”

“You can march yourself over here with me my lad,” said Powell bluntly. “I have a bone to pick with you.” He walked straight over to the outside table under the awning where Harry and Burt ate their meals and slapped down a paper, a ruler and a pencil. Burt followed dutifully, increasingly apprehensive of where this was going.

The butler turned on him and glared into his sullen face. “I spoke to Lady Ann on the telephone yesterday evening.”

“Er ladyship?” Burt blinked, unsure, but hoping this meant that she was coming home – that he could have his body back at last; but his heart fell at the next words that came from the butler’s lips.

“Yes. And she’s very very angry with you.”

“Angry? With me? Er ladyship? Ann?”

“What made you think you had the right to address a letter to her directly? Well?”

Burt floundered, confused, not knowing what to say or think. What did this mean? What did it mean about her intentions?

“Answer me man!” snapped Powell, picking up the ruler and striking Burt hard on the arm with it.

“I dunno sir,” said Burt quickly.

“You don’t know? You don’t know!”

“I’m sorry sir.” Burt was flabbergasted that he was in this position., he hadn’t imagined for a second that Lady Ann would tell anyone else about the letter he’d sent, let alone tell Powell she was angry about it.

“Oh you’ll be sorry my lad. You should be ashamed of yourself! You’re nothing to her; you do know that, don’t you?”

Burt swallowed dryly. “Yes sir.”

“What was the letter about?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“More lovesick fawning presumably. I should have you flogged or sent packing.”

“Please sir, no,” pleaded Burt.

“If you can’t be trusted to get on with your work and leave the family in peace then I’ll have no choice but to relieve you of your duties.”

“No. Please sir. Anything but that. Please don’t send me away sir,” said Burt, hating how obsequious he was being but terrified of being thrown out into the cold with even less than he had now and no way of regaining his old life. “I needs me job sir. I needs it. Please don’t send me away sir. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve bothered er ladyship; it was wrong of me. She’s better than me. I ain’t nothing to er. I shouldn’t be wastin er time when I got me chores to be gettin on with.”

He was breathing rapidly now, his face lowered, feeling awful. Powell just went on glaring at him.

“I likes me job sir,” murmured Burt, unsure why he was saying it. “I like workin ere and I don’t want to go away.”

“Oh, you like it do you?”

This put Burt on the spot and made him feel terribly uncomfortable but again the words just started coming out. “Yes sir. I likes workin with the ‘orses an doin odd jobs about the place. I like it at lot.”

He stood, unnerved by what he was saying, feeling that it was unpleasantly close to being true and not being sure what that meant; not being sure he wanted to know.

“Then if you like it so much,” snapped Powell, “why do you jeopardise your position here by acting above your station? Hmmm?”

Burt hung his head. “I dunno sir.”

“What?”

“I dunno sir. It was wrong o’me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’ta written to er ladyship. She shouldn’t afta be bothered by the likes of me; not when she ‘as more important things to do.”

“Well you aren’t going to get away with it that easily,” said Powell. “Here.” He pointed to the pencil and paper. “I want you to sit here and write a hundred times, ‘I will not waste Lady Ann’s time. I am nothing compared to her.’”

Burt looked at the paper then back at Powell. “Eh?”

“A hundred times,” said the butler. “Sit down now and get to it.”

Burt did as he was told and picked up the pencil.

“I will not waste Lady Ann’s time. I am nothing compared to her.’ Go on. Hurry up.”

Burt scrutinised the paper, building an increasingly bad feeling about this and then tried to write. He popped his tongue out the side of his mouth and wrote as carefully as he could but it took him well over a minute to get one line done.

I wEEl KnoT wAYsT LADee ANNeS tYM I aM nUfFiNk cOmpAreD tOo Err

The butler looked at what he’d done and sighed. “Oh for goodness sake! Stand up!”

“Don’t you want me to write no more?” asked Burt, doing as he was told.

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my day supervising an illiterate idiot who can’t spell for toffee. You can just say it out loud.”

“Out loud?”

“Two hundred times. Go on.”

Burt looked back at the butler and realized with quiet dread just what this could mean. If he said that over and over again then the repetition would work on his brain, just as it had before. It would push him further and further on in his transformation when he was already teetering so close to the brink of disaster – so close to losing everything forever. And the specific form of it was terribly dangerous. When her ladyship returned, if he couldn’t command her to change them back; if instead he fawned around her, acting every bit her inferior, then she might never agree to make the change.

His attention snapped back to the moment when Powell rapped his hand with the end of the ruler. “Do it!”

“Please sir, no. Anything but that.”

“Do it or you will be dismissed from employment.”

“Please sir. I needs this job; I… I love me job; but I don’t want to say that.”

The butler rapped him even harder. “Do it!”

And without any choice, Burt lifted his head miserably and said, “I’ll not waste Lady Ann’s time. Not no more. I ain’t nothing compared to er.”

Somewhere in the base of his skull a light buzzing started.

“Again.”

“I won’t waste Lady Ann’s time. She’s better’n I am by far. I’m just ‘er servant.”

The buzzing became a warmth and started to spread.

“Again.”

“I won’t waste er ladyship’s time. I ain’t nothin to er but a servant. She’s better’n the likes of me and she always will be.”

The tingling relaxed him, taking away his inhibitions, letting the changes start to tick away unimpeded. .

“Again.”

“I won’t say nothin to Lady Ann. She don’t wanna talk to someone on my level. She’s quality and I ain’t nothin but a workin man.”

2

To say that Ann was nervous to meet ‘her’ family was a profound understatement.

So much time had gone by now since she’d assumed the role of Lady Ann that with the creaking changes to her mind and memories she thought of them as her blood relatives more now than her former family in Hartlepool, but the fact remained that she still recalled much of her life as Burt and for most of that life, these people had been her employers. The Earl himself had been a terrifying overlord. Despite herself, Ann couldn’t help but feel a little nervous to be meeting them now for the first time as a woman.

And further than that, these were people who knew the real Ann intimately. Staying with and fooling her grandmamma was one thing. Fooling direct family members was another thing altogether.

She waited in the hallway as they climbed from their carriage and approached the front door, Richard on one side of her and Grandmamma on the other, butterflies fluttering away in her stomach. When the door opened the Earl filled the frame, looking sternly in and Ann’s heart rose into her throat. He glared from one to the other of them, cold and distinguished, them his expression melted, becoming warm and friendly and he hurried in followed by mama and Hattie.

Suddenly Ann was surrounded by laughing happy people and all her worries dissolved. ‘Her’ father embraced her and ‘her’ mother kissed her on both cheeks. Even Hattie was pleased to see her and everyone chattered about how happy they were to hear of the engagement.

They moved through into the drawing room and Ann basked in the joy all around her, feeling ecstatic to be a fully accepted member of this prestigious family all of a sudden; a family she had envied for so long in her former life. No one seemed to spot any flaw in her façade and as the minutes went on she became more and more confident that they never would.

It was all so entirely wonderful. This was her life now: socializing with the well-appointed and well to do – a life of riches and luxury. She shared a private smile with her Richard across the room as everyone went on talking, oblivious. She felt so warm and happy in her breast. It might even have been the happiest day of her life.

Ann thought about that, realized that it was indeed true, and settled back into her chair feeling wonderful.

3

Burt felt awful and walked down from the hall, wishing he’d never seen the butler. Having to repeat those lines so many times was only going to make matters worse and he pondered what insidious effect they might have had on him. So much had changed in his character already that any further changes could only be subtle underlinings of what was already there.

Or maybe it would be something more profound. He couldn’t be sure.

He walked past the stable, glad Harry wasn’t present. For the moment he couldn’t face getting on with his work and just needed time to think, though he felt awfully guilty at doing that. It just wasn’t right for him to be shirking on the job. He had a responsibility as a man to do his chores. Thinking this almost made him pause and scurry off to do his laboring but he managed to resist. He’d just have a short break and then go back and work harder. He’d tell Harry he needed to work late to make up for it. That would make it alright, and he’d do double the time he missed now, just to be sure he wasn’t taking advantage.

His encounter with Powell had left him very much shaken, and not just from fear of the effect it would have when Lady Ann finally returned. The revelation that she had received his letter and wasn’t rushing back to swap bodies was shocking to the core. Moreover, she actually sent word to punish him.

Could there be any clearer indication that she was planning to stay as she was? Keep her body and leave him in his? Surely that was what it meant. The swap was permanent. He was never going to change back.

Never.

He stood there on the drive, digesting that fact until his whole body was quivering then a sharp tension rose in his back and shoulders until he almost staggered in dizziness. A sigh bubbled up from his lungs, dagger-sharp and too big for his throat, then it came out and his shoulders slumped, his head falling.

He dropped to his knees, hands out to the path in front of him.

He remained there, breathing laboriously, head hanging almost to the ground.

He was going to be Burt forever. Lady Ann had betrayed him. Lady Ann didn’t care about him. She wanted him to stay like this. She wanted to make his life a misery.

He was never getting out of this.

Not ever.

He was going to stay who he was for the rest of his life.

“And isn’t that what you wanted?”

He jerked upright, hearing the voice and gaped at the gypsy woman from the fair, leaning against a tree, chewing a piece of grass, watching him.

“Eh?”

She smiled, gazing at him with those piercing grey eyes of hers. “You look relieved.”

Burt’s brow crinkled. “Wot you doin ere?”

“I came to give you this.” She withdrew a small bottle from her cloak. “The potion we discussed? I mixed it up for you this morning.”

“You said… You said it was what I wanted.”

“Did I?” She smiled. “I don’t recall.”

“You just… How did you know what I was…? Who are you?”

“I brought you the potion,” she said, walking across to him as he climbed to his feet. She extended her arm, offering it. “The one you wanted.”

Burt looked at it feeling confused and unsteady. His thoughts were whirling, his bowels roiling with nausea. His head throbbed and the backs of his eyes felt shrunken.

“It’s what you wanted,” said the gypsy. “For your soul and body to match. So that you could be happy.”

“Happy?” Burt looked her in the eye again.

“Yes Burt.” And now her smile seemed genuine, not laced with mirth. “Content with who you are. For the first time.”

The liquid in the bottle was a deep green and flecks of herbs moved slowly within, half concealed by the glassy sheen.

Lady Ann had left him like this. She wasn’t never coming back. He was going to be Burt for the rest of his life.

“Take it,” said the gypsy. “Drink it. Let yourself forget your troubles.”

He looked at the bottle in her open palm. It seemed so easy to take it from her and drink it down. So easy to let go of the tension he’d been feeling these past weeks, the increasing horror of his predicament.

He took the bottle in his hand.

“That’s it Burt. Good man,” said the gypsy. She stepped away then stepped away again. “You don’t have to drink it now. I can see that you aren’t quite ready. But drink it soon. Drink it and let yourself be who you really are. Accept your destiny once and for all. Will you do that for me?”

Burt looked up into her mesmerizing eyes, losing himself in them again.

So so easy and all his problems would be solved.

All he had to do was drink.

And then at last, he could be content with who he was.

4

Ann and her new family strolled through Hyde Park, chattering excitedly about the high life she’d been living in London: the plays and concerts she’d seen; the parties; the trip to Brighton. Richard meanwhile walked along behind talking about more serious subjects with the Earl while the ladies did their gossiping.

It was lovely to be one of the women, giggling at the romantic tales. Ann smirked to herself at Hattie’s obvious jealousy. She had a clear memory from before the change of Hattie making fun of her about having to take the journey. The irony that Ann had enjoyed a wonderful time and had found such a powerful husband was surely not lost on her.

“It’s such a shame that you didn’t come to London Hattie,” said Ann. Perhaps you could have found a man too.”

Hattie scowled darkly.

“Though you did go to York for a night,” went on Ann. “That must have been almost as good.”

“Well it was nice to go shopping without your constant haranguing,” snipped Hattie.

“Now now ladies,” said the Countess. “Do play nice together, that’s my good girls.” She hooked her wrists through each of their arms and smiled benignly. Ann smiled back and Hattie stuck her tongue out at her from out of sight.

They wandered on, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, making plans for the wedding. The Countess “reminded” Ann that she had always wanted to be married in York Minster and she had to agree it was a wonderful idea. She wondered what the original Ann would say when he heard that his girlhood dream had come true… for somebody else!

They chatted about what was going on in Yorkshire at Griply Hall. Ann asked polite questions for a while then turned the conversation onto “that odious stablehand.”

“Him?” sneered Hattie. “He’s just as backward and good-for-nothing as he’s always been. I don’t know why we keep him on.”

“Well he’s very good at simple tasks,” replied Ann. “Jobs that don’t require any brains.”

“Or breeding. He’s a horror to speak to, stuttering and stammering in his ridiculous bumpkin accent.” Hattie and Ann both laughed.

“I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about,” said the Countess. This made Ann laugh all the more. The older woman must have seen Burt around the place a thousand times and he was so far beneath her notice that she didn’t even recall it.

Oh, how low the mighty fall!

The path met the edge of the long lake and they turned left, walking along its edge. The sun shimmered on the breeze-rippled water, sparkling like thousands of candle flames. The group shifted positions with the Earl taking up position next to Ann’s mother while grandmamma grilled Hattie on her prospects. Ann had to smile at that. She herself fell back into step with Richard. They enjoyed the quiet and one another’s company, Ann wishing Richard would take her hand as she would have taken Mavis’s back in her former life. But he didn’t.

They stopped as a group and looked out over the water as three swans took flight.

“Oh look Richard darling!” cried Ann. “Aren’t they beautiful!”

He took her hands. “Not as beautiful as you Ann.”

“Oh Richard,” she breathed. “Kiss me.”

He released her hands, becoming quite restrained and looked to where the Earl and Countess were standing. “It’s hardly an appropriate time my dear.” He smiled thinly. “We will be able to partake of such… matters after we’re married but until then… I feel we should refrain.”

“Oh… Alright,” said Ann, a little taken aback.

Richard smiled formally again and walked over to the Earl, pointing to the swans as they came down to land on the water. Ann watched him glumly as Hattie appeared at her shoulder, smirking.

“It looks like you’ve found a passionate man at least Ann,” she said quietly. “I expect you’ll be overcome with romance… once you’re married. If there is any.”

“Oh do shut up Hattie,” snapped Ann. “You can start casting judgment when you find a man for yourself. I think we both know you’ll most likely end up an old maid.”

Hattie’s smirk fell off her face. She humphed and walked off, but Ann looked out over the lake with a troubled expression on her face, thinking of the freedom of expression and lust that she’d once enjoyed. Even on their wedding night she couldn’t imagine the handsome but still quite formal Richard being quite as forthcoming with his physical desires as she might like.

Perhaps there was a downside to being Lady Ann after all…

And she was starting to wonder why the original Lady Ann had not acquiesced when Richard had been courting her originally.

Perhaps the former Ann had seen something she was only just starting to…