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

 

3

Ann stepped off the train onto the platform in Griply, breathing in the Yorkshire air, faintly startled to realise that she was really here at last.

Richard followed her out as Gladys fussed around with the baggage and they made their way through the people toward the exit, Ann’s eyes scanning the faces all the while almost anxiously. At any time now she might see people she recognised, supporting characters as it were, from her former life as Burt. She had grown so used to being Lady Ann over the past four weeks but she was still afraid that might all dissolve were she to be faced with the likes of Jeb or Mavis.

But she saw no one she recognised… yet.

The coach was waiting outside. The coachman tipped his cap and hurried to open the side panel door. Richard helped Ann up the step and inside then climbed in after her while the servants dealt with the baggage.

“You seem overly nervous Ann,” he said, smiling crisply.

“I suppose I am,” she replied.

“Well there isn’t anything to worry over. I think you’ll find things are exactly as you left them. Change isn’t something that occurs at any pace in the countryside.

Ann gave a brittle smile and then jerked slightly as the coach pulled off.

They passed the green and the village hall. She watched for signs of movement as the Dog & Pony rolled past on the left. There was no sign of Mavis. It was profoundly odd to see the building for the first time since she’d been a man. The last time she’d seen it she’d been reveling inside with the other working men, a brutish uncouth drunkard.

She missed those days.

Commoners walking the street stopped to watch the coach as it passed, nodding in deference to the returning aristocracy. Soon however, the houses of the village were left behind and the lane narrowed, bushes crowding in on both sides. Ann’s nerves took another step up.

Richard said little, only smiling mildly. Ann sat as composed as she could, hands settled in her lap, shoulders straight. She was playing out in her mind the approach to the Hall, visualising the road ahead; the drive up to the front door.

The coach slowed as it approached the gates, making the turn carefully and on impulse, Ann stood to the window and called up. “Coachman! Pull in at the stables. I wish to disembark there.”

Richard was looking at her queerly when she sat back down. “Why ever would you want to do that?”

“I…” Ann had no response but her mind caught something half reasonable. “I just can’t wait to see my horse again. My parents can pass the time for five minutes.”

“Hmmm.” Richard raised his eyebrow. “I suppose one day I may come to understand the workings of the female mind.”

The drive parted and the coach took the right channel, slowing as it came to the top of the rise and swept down in front of the stable.

“We’re here,” whispered Ann breathlessly. “Good God, we’re here.”

She leant forward into the window as the coach creaked to a stop in front of the stable doors, her eyes darting back and forward to catch sight of him.

And then she saw him, through the open doorway in the gloom and her heart almost ceased pumping.

Burt was shoveling dirty straw from the floor of one of the stable stalls, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Ann stared at his rippling muscles; the careless attitude he had in his body language, entirely devoid of decorum. He obviously didn’t care one whit about the way he carried himself or looked with his scruffy clothes and masculine posture.

He was the exact opposite of her.

She had felt sure that she would know what she wanted to do when she saw him but the three dimensional physicality of him knocked her entirely off-balance. The uncouth filth and constraints around him were instantly recognisable but so was the raw power and lower class freedom.

She realised that she didn’t know what she wanted at all.

All she could do was let it play out and do what her instincts told her.