Lady Ann's Holiday: The Final Chapter - Part Ten

Ann cantered down the drive, stopping at the gate onto the fields. She reached with difficulty to open it and guided the horse through.

She was doing the right thing; she was sure of that; the only thing she could do now. But when she was through, she paused, cocking her head to the side. She could hear something odd. Something…

She turned, startled, recognising it, and saw her father’s big stallion galloping down toward her with Burt on its back.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing for a second but then she leapt into action, throwing the gate back closed and urged her horse, gripping tightly as it surged forward, speeding quickly to a canter and then to a gallop, cutting up across the fields.

She looked behind her, glad the gate would slow Burt down and gaped as he spurred the stallion up to it at full speed, taking it in a mighty leap.

Ann almost cried out, turning back to face front as her own horse sped on. But she knew that the stallion had the edge over Rosebud on speed. There was no way she would be able to keep ahead of it for long.

“Hyah!” she cried, whipping its neck. “Hyah!”

Burt was closing on her, his brow firm with determination, head down and forward. He was no more than thirty yards behind.

Ann cut to the right and spurred Rosebud on, then when Burt had almost caught her, she went left suddenly, slipping between some trees as Burt and the stallion sped past the way she had seemed to be going.

She leant close to the horse’s neck, crying, “Hyah! Hyah!”

Her destination was coming up fast. She was almost there. But Burt came from the right, speeding up toward her flank and she squealed, pressing Rosebud harder.

She saw the river where the pendant had been found; the lone tree overlooking the water. She could picture the pendant at the water’s edge now in her Ann-memories as though she’d really been there.

And just past the point where it had caught on its root, scant feet before it would have been lost forever, she saw the weir; the churning water; the place where this was all going to end.

She cantered to the edge and brought her horse to a stop, slipping off onto the grass as quickly as she could.

A second after her, Burt pulled up beside it and leapt clear, coming down hard as she ran for the water’s edge.

Ann scrabbled at her neck, pulling at the chain, ripping the pendant off over her head as she got closer; close enough now to throw it.

The water was shooting along here, accelerating for the pitch down into the furrowed weir. She thrust her hand out clutching the pendant and went to release it.

“No!”

She stopped, holding it still, her hand shaking, the pendant itself swinging free.

“Please m’lady. Just wait for a minute and ‘ear me out.”

Ann didn’t withdraw her arm but she didn’t open her hand either. She looked back at Burt as he slowly approached.

“Don’t come any closer! I’ll drop it!”

Burt lifted his hand. “I won’t miss. I swear. All I want is for you to listen for a minute or two – just hear what I ave to say.”

She took his measure; saw the fear and nervousness in his quivering eyes, and then a calm came over her as she remembered who she was now; who he was. She straightened, lowering the pendant to her side. “You have no right to speak to me. You’re only a servant. How dare you follow me here; leave your post when there’s work to be done.”

Burt hung his head, feeling a tightening of his self-doubt and self-recrimination. She was right. He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t have taken the Earl’s horse out. It was wrong of him to speak to this fine lady as though she were an equal. “Beggin yer pardon m’lady,” he said, forcing the words out, “but you and I both know that things are different between you and me.”

Ann didn’t speak.

“You can play act all ye like but that don’t change the fact that you used to be the servant and I… I was quality. You owe me five minutes of your time and you know ye do… if’n you don’t mind that is.”

Ann regarded him coldly for a long while and he squirmed under her gaze. Finally she spoke. “Alright Burt. Say what you came here to say and then let that be the end of it.”

He girded himself then raised his eyes to hers and took a step forward. “I love ye Lady Ann. I’ve always loved ye. Back when you was a man, you was in love me with me too. I know it ain’t right – that society as it is wouldn’t want it to ‘appen; but of all the people in the world, you and I is meant to be together.”

She shook her head, releasing a tiny sound that scratched at the word, “No.”

Burt took another step closer. “He don’t love ye: that Lord ‘Urley. He just pretends he does cause he wants a pretty ornament; that’s all. He’s been slitherin round ere for years on and off, after me as I used to be.”

“No. That isn’t true.”

“Yes it is miss. And if you look in those memories o mine you’ve got, then maybes you’ll see why I never said yes to im.”

Ann shook her head again but her eyes moistened.

“He’s so full of himself he was even braggin to me about the other women he’s been with; them he plans to go on bein with after yer married.”

“Stop,” snapped Ann. “You stop talking. I don’t want to hear any more of your pathetic lovesick drivel.”

“Miss, please. I’m sorry to talk out’ve turn but you aveta listen.”

“No Burt; I do not have to do anything. I am Lady Ann Neville. Me. You are nothing to me and you have no right to speak to me this way about the man I love.” She turned away to face the river, her back to him. “Please leave. I do not wish to be disturbed any longer.”

“He doesn’t love ye m’lady. And you know it.” Burt was right behind her now. “But I do. I love ye more deeply than you could ever know. I love ye inside and out. I know ow frustrated and trapped ye feel and ow much you want passion and excitement; because I used to be you. And I could give you that passion. You know that, don’t ye?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and though she resisted, he gently turned her round to face him.

“We’re perfect for one another, you and me,” he said, looking down into her tear-stained face and Ann looked up into his eyes, feeling the strength and dependability; the affection streaming off him. She saw before her everything that she wanted – everything she needed – and before a voice of reason could cry to her to stop, she lifted her lips to his and kissed him.

It wasn’t like the kisses with Richard. This was rich and warm and surging with passion. He wrapped his big muscular arms around her and she leaned back letting him support her. Still the kiss went on and suddenly she was overcome with the urge to hold him tighter, to taste this powerful masculine man – to give herself to him entirely. This was her first real kiss as a woman and all sense of the world fell away from her as she swooned into it.

Burt held her as tightly as he could, loving this consummation of his unending desire, the urge that had possessed him every moment of his life as a man, even when he hadn’t realised it. He hadn’t known – couldn’t have – but the connection he’d shared with Mavis had been paltry compared to this torrid fervour. He wanted nothing in the world but this woman. He wanted to be nowhere more than right here with her.

And then suddenly Ann prised herself free and struggled out of his arms. She pulled away, pushing her hands up to force him clear.

“No! We can’t!” She separated herself from him. “We can’t!” She ran several paces away, her hands to her face, her back to him, her upper body heaving with her breaths. “We can’t do this.”

“M’lady?”

She glanced back at him then looked away. She pointed her eyes down into the river. “It’s not right. It can’t happen.”

Burt took a step closer again. “What can’t?”

“Stay away. Don’t come any nearer. You know what. This. What we did. That can never ever happen again.”

“But miss…”

“Don’t speak. Nothing you can say will change this. Lady Ann Neville could never marry a stable hand. It wouldn’t be right and it wouldn’t be natural. We both know it. It doesn’t matter which one of us is which. If you were still Ann then it would be just as true.”

“Aye.” Burt hung his head. “I suppose yer right.”

Ann looked back at him with tears in her eyes. She wanted him; she did want him; but it would be impossible. And no matter how much she might desire his virile masculinity and his passion, they could never truly be a match.

“It ain’t about you bein posher than me,” said Burt. “We’re just too different. I know that now. You couldn’t get pissed down’t Dog & Pony or watch a boxin match.”

“And you couldn’t discuss the finer points of Shakespeare or politics over a glass of wine.”

They stood silently, regarding one another.

“Well...” said Burt.

“Yes. Well.”

Ann looked out across the weir again.

“I’ll ave me body back then if’n ye don’t mind.”

She froze, staring.

“Did you ‘ear me?” asked Burt. “I said we can change back now if it’s all the same to you.”