Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Thirty - Part One

 No Escape

1

Burt sat on the floor of his cell as morning came, slumped against the wall at an angle so that he wasn’t putting pressure on his back where the Earl’s whip has flayed his skin. One knee was raised, his arm propped on it, covering his eyes.

He had cried in the night, feeling even more deeply ashamed because of it, but the tears had run out now. His eyes were red raw. His throat felt swollen.

When he’d been locked in the stocks it had taken time for him to fully realize the truth behind his predicament. Not now. He had long since accepted his role in the Griply hierarchy. He didn’t struggle against his identity anymore. He knew he was only Burt Harper. He knew he was nothing but a criminal now.

When he’d been trapped in the life of a stable hand, it had seemed untenable. When Jeb had been given his responsibilities and he’d been demoted to little more than a menial labourer, there hadn’t seemed to be any lower he could fall. He had been wrong. He continued to be wrong. It seemed, in this living nightmare, that there was always lower to sink – some new awful mistake that could drag him further into ignominy and humiliation.

A racket came from the front of the jailhouse. Burt could barely raise his head to look, his strength had been so terribly sapped by this ordeal. The jailer was wrestling with a wizened toothless woman with long white hair, dragging her toward the cells.

“Carla, ye ugly old crone!” snapped the jailer. “Stop struggling! You ain’t getting free!”

“Let me go! I ain’t guilty a nothin! Let me go!”

He forced her along, grunting with the effort. Her skin was crinkled with wrinkles – she was very old – but that hadn’t seemed to have reduced her stamina. She fought like an animal, but that barely slowed the jailer. He forced her into the cell beside Burt’s and locked her in.

“That’ll learn ya Carla,” he said. “You’ll think twice before causing a disturbance again, won’t ye?”

“Ah chuff off,” she snapped back at him.

Burt covered his face.

This shouldn’t have been happening to him. He shouldn’t have been here. He should have been free.

He was furious at himself – at the choices he’d made that had brought him here.

He was angry that he’d been such a spoiled witch of a woman who appreciated none of her blessings.

He hated the fact that he’d found the pendant, and worse, had been foolish and arrogant enough to think he could control the swap – had given up all right to privilege and control.

But far more than these, he was angry that he had risked his position by going into the hall to fetch the necklace when he had no right to do so. He was angry that he had dared to break one of the most sacrosanct rules there was for a man of his lowborn rank.

He should have accepted who he was now – just been happy with his lot in life. He wasn’t Lady Ann no more. He never would be. Why couldn’t he have just been happy with that and gone on doing his duty as a servant? Why had he thrown away a good laboring job and a future as groundsman for that impossible dream?

He wasn’t Lady Ann no more! He never would be again! He had no right to violate the bed chamber of one of his betters. He had no right to try and take a pendant wot didn’t belong to him.

That pendant belonged to Lady Ann, not him. He wasn’t fit to clean her shoes. She was infinitely better than the likes of him. He was nothing next to that beautiful cultured lady.

Oh why couldn’t he just have accepted that and gone on being a servant for the rest of his days!?

2

Lady Ann had not changed her mind by morning. She was still going to become a man again as soon as she could.

She sat quietly by herself in the morning room on an armchair, blankets tucking her in, an undisturbed tray of breakfast things beside her.

She imagined what it would be like to journey back to Yorkshire; to take Burt aside as soon as she got the chance; to withdraw the pendant and place it around her neck. She imagined allowing the big muscular man to enfold her in his arms, knowing that in moments it would be her taking on that strength and power once more.

It didn’t matter to her about the drop in status she would reclaim, or the loss of intelligence and breeding. All that mattered to her was that she feel safe and secure once more. The kidnapping had torn that security away from her forever. She could never feel it as long as she was confined to this body.

Becoming Burt again was her only escape.

Some movement caught her eye in the window. Richard dragged Thornton, the servant boy who had accompanied her in the park on the day of the abduction, out into view and threw him to the floor.

Ann sat up slightly to see what was happening.

Thornton was saying something, his hands half raised in pre-emptive defence. Richard shouted back at him, his words audible but not quite discernible through the glass. He thrust his pointing hand out again and again, shouting furiously down at the servant. Then he revealed the riding crop in his other hand.

Thornton spoke more, obviously begging for mercy, but Richard didn’t even respond. He started whipping Thornton’s arms and face, his shoulders, the back of his head. Thornton went down into a ball but Richard didn’t stop. He bent over the boy, striking him over and over and over again.

Ann watched the entire thing, unmoving from her chair and only turning away from it when she heard movement at the door.

“Are you alright m’lady?” It was Gladys, her eyes lowered, her hands clasped neatly at her waist. “Can I get you anything?”

Ann didn’t reply at first, and then she said, “No Gladys. Thank you.”

Gladys dipped her head and curtseyed. “Very good m’lady. Would you like me to remove your breakfast things?”

Ann looked down at the tray and then nodded haltingly. “Yes. Clear it away.”

“Of course miss.” Gladys fussed in and gathered up the tray, all deference and humility then withdrew, curtseying again.

Ann watched her leave then turned back to the window.

Thornton was gingerly touching the cuts on his hands and face as Richard glared down at him, then with a snarl, Richard whipped him again as hard as he could and marched away.

Ann closed her eyes.

Become Burt again. Become a man. Become a servant.

That was all she wanted now. She was sure of that.

But she thought of Thornton, and she thought of Gladys’s fawning obsequiousness and just for a moment she questioned that resolve.