Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Thirty - Part Three

5 

Burt lay on the hard narrow bed in his cell trying to ignore the jeering whisper of the jailer. The old man sat on a chair just the other side of the bars and as he hissed on with his monologue he kept breaking into rough cackles, as though the words he was saying were hilarious.

“They’re gonna take you out of here and put you on trial tomorrow,” he said. “The Earl’s sent for the magistrate; paid extra to have him come tout suite.” He chuckled. “He’ll preside over your trial and most likely sentence you to prison.”

Burt covered his face with his arm.

“It’ll be Wakefield you get sent to I’d have thought. Nasty place. Really nasty place. But more than appropriate to a hardened criminal like yerself.” He laughed again but degenerated into a long series of hacking coughs. When he recovered he went on, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve heard the Earl talking. He’s going to push for the maximum sentence; did you know that? Do you know how long that is?”

Burt screwed his eyes shut.

“Seven years. Seven long years!”

It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t possible that his life had come to this.

“And if you listen to the whispers of the servants up at the hall about you propositioning Lady Harriet then I wouldn’t put it past him to press for an attempted rape conviction. That’s could be another five or ten years, depending on the mood of the magistrate.”

Burt moaned.

“Locked away with murderers and rapists, burglars and pickpockets – no women; no niceties; no comforts; no freedom. You’re going to come out of there a changed man. You’ll either be bitter and broken; stooped and useless, or else associating with all that scum: you’re gonna come out just like all the rest – a hardened criminal.”

He cackled again.

“And even if neither one of those happens you’ll never get honest work again. You’ll be branded a convict; a thief. No one will trust you to do an honest day’s work. You’ll have to live a life of destitution or a life of crime. Either way you’ll be dead or back in the lock-up within a year.”

He tapped on the bars with his stick. “You hear me in their prisoner? Your life is over! You’re going to prison and it’ll ruin ye, one way or another, you mark my words.”

He got up, laughing, and walked away to find his brandy bottle.

Burt didn’t move – didn’t react. He lay in terror, guilt and regret.

Why, oh why, had he gone into the manor? Why hadn’t just followed his orders and lived up to his man’s responsibility? He was going to lose everything he had and there was nothing he could do.

When he was put on trial they would ask him if he had gone into the manor; if he had rifled through her ladyship’s things; if he had tried to take the pendant; if he had propositioned Lady Harriet. What could he do but answer yes? He had done all those things and he had known it was wrong.

The pendant didn’t belong to him. It belonged to Lady Ann. He wasn’t Lady Ann; he was Burt Harper. He was a thief! He was a thief and he deserved to be punished!

He would be condemned by his own words. What could he do but admit to his crime. It wasn’t right to lie to his betters and he’d been caught red handed anyway. With the Earl pushing for it he was going down for the maximum sentence, just as the jailer had said.

Seven years. Or more!

He covered his face with his hands.

He had had such a good life as a labourer, being told exactly what to do, getting a roof over his head in the hay barn, being around the horses, basking in the glow of the upper classes. He wished he could just go back to that – to being a good honest salt-of-the-earth working man. All he wanted was to be a servant at the hall; following orders, digging ditches, shoveling horse shit. He knew now that old Harry was a decent man. He yearned to be able to go back in time and not disrespect him; just do exactly what he was told the second he was told it. That was all he wanted.

He missed Mavis. She was the best woman a man like him could hope for – a right bewer. He would have given anything to be back in her arms; to kiss her and shag her. He missed his mates in the Dog & Pony – he missed every aspect of his life.

Lying there in his cell he vowed that if he ever got the chance to have that life back he would cling onto it for all he was worth. He wouldn’t long for a silly life as a cultured woman – that was forever out of his reach. No. He’d be the best servant he could be – the hardest working and most servile man who’d ever been employed at Griply Hall. If only he could get out of this cell he’d never try to escape his servant’s life again!

6 

“I have good news Ann,” said Richard as she entered. He was sitting at her late grandfather’s desk, working on some papers.

Ann was cold, still shaken from her experiences. The room would have been warm enough but she still felt chilled in her shawl. “Oh? What is it?”

“We know the whole story now and the blackguards responsible for your abduction will all be going to prison.”

“Thank goodness.” Ann sat on the edge of the window seat.

“You may be surprised to learn the true culprit behind it all,” said Richard, “the originator of the plan.”

“Who?”

He smiled grimly. “The maid that you had fired from your grandmother’s employ.”

“Betty? No, really?”

Richard nodded. “She was no mastermind of course but the man who led the kidnapping ring was her beau.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“She told him about you and they kept watch until they knew your movements. They knew of… our acquaintance and thought they could profit from it.” He lit a cigarette. “They’ll all stay locked up of course and I’m going to push for hanging on the ring leader.”

Ann turned the corner of her mouth up, so grateful for Richard’s strength and protection. She went to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Richard. I can’t thank you enough for finding me; for getting me out of that place.”

He patted her hand. “You’re my fiancée.”

“Kiss me,” she said, passion flowing through her breast suddenly. “Richard, I need you so much. Please, kiss me.”

She tried to turn him in his chair to face her but he didn’t let himself be turned. Instead he gave her a brief peck on the cheek. “I’m working darling. See.”

“Oh. Alright. Sorry,” replied Ann, disappointed.

Richard kept eye contact and allowed her a curt smile. “I did explain the importance of my work to you Ann dear. I know you’ve been through a terrible ordeal but you’ve made it clear you want us to travel to Griply tomorrow. I can’t very well leave if this work isn’t done.”

“Yes. Of course. You’re right. I’m sorry.” She stepped back from the desk.

Richard sighed. “Don’t pout Ann. It isn’t becoming of a lady. As my wife you will have a responsibility to manage the household and hostess the business dinners we will throw. My responsibility is to conduct the work that keeps my business going. It’s nothing you would understand but I must ask you to keep yourself amused while I do it. I am in the middle of organising the construction of two new factories in Nockton Vale at the moment and it’s demanding the bulk of my efforts. I wasted far too much time searching for you. Obviously I didn’t mind, but if you wish me to spare even longer visiting your parents then will need to give me the chance to get on with this. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” said Ann, too quietly to be heard. She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

He put his head down, concentrating again, ignoring her and she watched him, returning to her window seat.

She thought about the life she had envisioned with Richard, the happiness she had felt to look forward to their love together. She wondered what that would really be like with this formal and rather distant gentleman.

She thought about her desperate craving to become a man again.

She remembered the beating the servant had received the day before; the servility of Gladys and the other lower orders she came into contact with.

All she wanted was this man’s protection and love. If he kissed her now she might relent on her desire to become Burt again. That was all she needed; to keep her in this life. She just needed to be loved. She needed to feel passion and desire.

Outside, through the window, the stable hand was closing up the stable doors, locking the horses in for the night. Ann watched him silently for a while – his fine masculine figure; his strong arms – then she turned back to look at Richard, hard at work on his papers.

It seemed like a hundred years ago when she had bedded Mavis every night, living in an endless whirl of lewd abandon.

Becoming Lady Ann had been such an incredible escape from her life of poverty and hard work – from being an idiot uncultured servant – but… there were things that she missed; things she wished she could still have.

If only she could have everything: the passion and the wealth; the intelligence and the security.

Richard looked up at her sternly and in a testy voice said, “Do you mind Ann. I’m trying to work and your presence is making it impossible. When we’re married you’ll see far less of me than this. I suggest you start getting used to that now.”

Ann smiled curtly and stood. She had one more look at the stable hand outside then went to the door, wondering briefly if there wasn’t a way she could have this wealth and beauty but still get some passion in her life.

She wondered if she dared do what she was considering.