Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Thirty Three - Part Four

4

Burt heard the coach pull up outside the stable and for one long moment he went on working, unable to cease, scraping up the dirty straw. He knew all he had to do now was turn around but he couldn’t do it. The moment had been anticipated too much with equal parts delight and horror.

The one person on earth who knew who he really was beneath this muscular façade, who wouldn’t judge him as Burt Harper, stable hand, doing exactly what was expected of him, but as Lady Ann Neville, reduced to manual labour, dirty clothes, a servant’s position and a working class accent. She would see him and she would laugh, surely, at how pitifully low he had fallen, at his awkward muscular frame, his shorn hair and bushy moustache.

And the acute expectation of turning and seeing those beautiful eyes, that perfect face… Burt literally couldn’t move.

But somehow he did anyway, setting his spade to lean against the wall. He straightened up, raised his chin, turned first at the neck and then at the waist and finally at the feet.

And there she was: Lady Ann Neville, his beautiful mistress.

He’d wondered if it would have been like looking into a mirror but it wasn’t in the slightest. Despite his second contact with the pendant, his Burt memories remained by far the more prominent in his brain and they formed almost all associations now. That wasn’t his body there in the open window of the coach, it was the body of his mistress, the stunning aristocratic woman who was here, finally, within his reach.

His lips parted, mouth gaping vacantly in wonder as he stepped forward.

From the coach window, Ann stared back at him. Neither one of them moved further. They couldn’t.

He took in her delicate features, the rouge of her lips, the shine of her silky hair, the glimmer of light on her cheek. For this drawn out moment they weren’t fixed in their social roles. Perhaps they were only fellow adventurers on this most incredible journey together. They had seen and felt things that no one else on earth ever had, and the profundity of those experiences linked them tighter than any other bond. They’d travelled on a journey into the very heart of one another’s lives – come to understand each other like no one else. In a real way they had merged, each one of them become an amalgamation of who they were and the other. They had become connected in body, mind and spirit.

For this moment, Burt saw only a beautiful woman and Ann a strong and virile man, soul mates in a way they never had been before.

Then old Harry turned the corner and saw what was going on.

“Burt!” he yelled. “Get out ere ye great idiot! Er ladyship’s arrived!”

Burt jerked forward instinctively at the old man’s orders, hurrying outside.

Harry was approaching fast and he pointed at the coach. “Well open the door then you twit, her ladyship’s waitin!”

“Yes sir, sorry sir. Of course.”

He went to the door and took the handle in his fingers, looking up into the close face of Lady Ann. Again there was a frozen moment. They gazed into one another’s eyes, close enough now to touch. Neither one of them spoke or moved, then once again, Harry shattered the instant.

“Well open it then. And get that cap off! Show the proper respect for your betters.”

Burt snatched at his cap, flushing with embarrassment at behaving appallingly in front of one of the quality. He’d been taught better than that. It didn’t matter what history they had, this was one of the gentry before him. He was a servant. He had to act appropriately and do his duty.

“I’m sorry m’lady,” he muttered, shoving his cap in his pocket and opening the door. “Let me elp you.”

Ann stood in the coach doorway and suddenly the differing roles were starkly drawn. She looked down at the slack-jawed idiot in front of her and saw nothing but a dirty commoner – a servant. He raised his hand and she took it, curling her nose slightly with distaste at having to touch the odious creature. She stepped from the carriage, very much the mistress being assisted by her servant.

She took a moment to get her bearings in this place that she’d known so thoroughly as a man: the stable, the hayloft, old Harry’s whiskery face, turned now in deference to her, his superior and employer.

Burt gaped at her, unsure of himself then, not knowing what else to do or say started gushing. “It’s right good to ave ye back m’lady. It ain’t been the same round ere without ye. Is there anything I can do for ye– anythin I can get ye?” He didn’t know why he was saying these things – it was embarrassing to be doing so, but he was flustered and the tension was maddening. He didn’t know how to address her, given their past connection and the only thing he could go on was instinct. It came naturally. She was undoubtedly his superior in every way from her bearing and poise to her immaculate clothing and styled hair.

But this was the time. It was the moment all this waiting had led to. Her ladyship had returned and in minutes they could be secreted away in the holiday cottage preparing to trade places again.

She started to smile and Burt brightened, full of hope, but the smile turned into a cruel sneer and then into a mocking grin.

Ann couldn’t believe how complete the transformation had been of the woman she had formerly been devoted to. The original Lady Ann had transformed completely beyond recognition. Ann had suspected before now that the new Burt’s character and accent would have changed to reflect her new low birth but to actually witness it took her breath away.

Burt was the very embodiment of servility. He was a dirty obsequious working class man with nary a sign of breeding. His voice was pure lowbrow Yorkshire and face to face at last, he couldn’t help acting the servant. It was so ingrained in him – in his blood. If anything he seemed more servile than she had ever been.

It was hilarious!

Could she really consider swapping places with this craven dullard and becoming every bit the servant he was? Surely not.

But that had been her resolve. She had been determined to become a man again and beggar the consequences. Should she… Maybe she should just do it now before she had the time to think too deeply on it. She should retrieve the pendant and make the trade before she could doubt herself too much.

Yes. That was what she had to do.

“Burt,” she said, finding it odd to say that name to another person.

He looked at her hopefully, his eyes bright and eager.

“Let’s have a look at this horse then Ann,” said Richard, climbing out of the coach after her. “I’m rather tired after the journey. I’m looking forward to settling down for a filling luncheon.”

Ann turned to look at him then back at Burt but the moment was lost.

Burt hurriedly stepped back, entirely unaware of the chance he’d just missed, surprised to see this gentleman descend from the coach. He had the very vaguest Ann memory of knowing this fellow… as a suitor perhaps? But far clearer was the memory of Griply station when this man had forced him to sit in third class that first time on the way to York. The memory brought an instant dislike but his appearance here was confusing. Why would he possibly be arriving in the company of her ladyship?

“Wait a minute,” said Richard. “I know this man.”

“Who, Burt?” asked Ann.

“I caught him trying to climb into a first class carriage on the railway train when I was up visiting your father last. The blackguard had ideas above his station… until he met the sole of my boot.” He gave a sharp chuckle.

Burt blushed and hung his head.

“First class carriage?” asked Ann. “Well that would hardly be appropriate.” She smiled to think of the former lady expecting to travel as she always had and finding instead the limits of her new station. She actually giggled, covering her lips with curled fingers.

“Well get out of the way then, you simpering idiot,”snapped Richard, pushing past Burt to the stable entrance.

“Yes sir,” said Burt, bobbing his head. “Sorry sir.”

Richard strode inside and Ann walked with him, unsure how she felt about this situation but seeing the humour in the former lady being treated like a servant after her own mistreatment. It certainly was a beautiful form of poetic justice.

Burt stood back, equally unsure, but he knew his duty above all things and what was expected of him. All he could do was follow that directive. He hurried inside after them.

“Rosebud’s just back ere m’lord,” he said, hurrying to pull ahead and lead the way in the gloom. “Ere ye go look.” He got to the filly’s stall and opened the door, bowing slightly. “We’ve been takin right good care of her while you been away yer ladyship, groomin and excercisin er and I been cleaning out er stall and that.”

“Be quiet,” snapped Richard. “If we want information we will solicit it.”

“Yes sir. Sorry sir. Of course.” Burt bowed his head and Ann giggled again, marveling that she used to be that sniveling bootlicker. Had she really been that mealy mouthed? And had she really had such a dreadful provincial accent? The man before her was nothing but a cowering sychophant, practically prostrating himself in his eagerness to please. He stole glances from one to the other of them but otherwise lowered his head submissively.

It was absolutely hilarious!

Richard stepped out of the way and Ann got a good look at Rosebud. She had never seen the horse with these womanly eyes but she had a plethora of memories and the associations from them brought a tear to her eye to see the beauty.

“Oh Richard,” she said. “Darling. Isn’t she beautiful?” She touched the horse’s nose and stroked her neck. “Oh she really is glorious. I had forgotten.”

“Hmm. Yes I suppose she is,” replied Richard.

Burt looked on proudly, enjoying the fact that her ladyship was pleased with the work he’d done. He wished he was still the groom but he’d kept the horse nice for most of the time the lady was away and still did all the cleaning. He’d worked extra hard in the stall that morning to ready it for her ladyship and it almost smelled of roses it was so spick and span.

It felt odd to be standing near her as a servant to them, especially when they had been meant to swap right back, but it also felt entirely normal. He felt far more normal in the role of a servant that he would have if expected to talk on equal terms to one of them. He was very comfortable in the role he had.

He wanted to offer to saddle up the horse for her ladyship but he was afraid to open his mouth for fear of Lord Hurley. After the events of the last few days he was absolutely determined to toe the line and never speak or act out of place.

He wondered what Lady Ann’s intentions were in terms of swapping back with him but he daren’t ask directly, especially with the gentleman present. And it wasn’t right for the likes of him to press her on the matter anyway. As a lady it was her right to decide if and when the trade should happen. He had no business in trying to take control. He wasn’t quality and as an intelligent and cultured woman, she knew better anyhow. If she decided to remain in that body then it was only right that he respect her decision. It wasn’t his place to second-guess the gentry. And there was the subject of his oath to the Earl to consider.

“Shall we go and make ourselves known at the hall,”said Richard.

Ann looked at Burt. The servant lowered his head, avoiding her glance. She wondered if she should make some excuse and break off– slip somewhere private to effect the change with him – but there was no hurry, surely. This filthy lackey showed no signs of requesting the trade. Was it possible that he had changed so much that he had actually forgotten his original identity? Certainly he had transformed so completely that whether he had forgotten or not was redundant. He was an ingratiating servant now from shorn head to grubby boots.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m looking forward to seeing my family.”

Richard led the way out and Ann reflected on why she’d said that exactly. It had come out naturally but she wondered if, subconsciously, she had been staking a claim.

Burt followed them out, clutching his cap now. Ann ignored him, leaving him floundering and confused.

“Is there anything we can do for you m’lord; m’lady,”said Harry when they exited.

“No. Thank you,” replied Ann. She looked back and met eyes with Burt. “For the moment.”

A little smile curled her lips for a second then she and Lord Hurley made their way up toward the house, somewhere Burt couldn’t follow.