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

Ann didn’t move. She couldn’t. The pendant was in her tightly wrapped palm. Her arms were folded. Burt stood several feet behind her.

“I don’t like to ask,” he said, “you bein quality an all, but you got a life wot belongs to me. You stole it off me; an if you don’t think I’m good enough for ye to marry then I reckon maybe you should just swap back like ye promised a month ago.”

Ann didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t. She knew he was right. She knew she should do as he asked; but even though she had wanted it; now she was at the moment, she couldn’t bear the idea of sinking into that dirty flesh again; of becoming a thick-witted clodhopper of low birth and low standards.

And she knew he could force it on her, snatch the pendant from her hand and put it on; press her into an embrace. He towered over her in his broad muscular frame. She was no physical match for him in any way.

She turned her body to face him, trembling slightly. He was tall and strong but she saw now the doubt and trepidation in his eyes, the show of will it was clearly taking from him to demand anything of one of his betters.

She knew that God had given that body to him; that she had taken it over a ruin of broken promises; but she couldn’t entertain the thought of being that man again for even a moment.

Yes, he had every right to want this flesh back and she had every responsibility to give it him, but that reckoning didn’t encompass the fact that for now she was still Lady Ann – and Lady Ann Neville cared not one wit for the rights of a feeble-minded servant. Lady Ann Neville was the epitome of superior arrogance and upper class aloofness.

This peasant could demand whatever he wanted. That didn’t mean he was going to get it.

She raised her chin and said, “No.”

“Eh?”

“You heard me. You have no right to request anything of me. Any agreement we might have once made is meaningless if I choose to renegotiate it. You are nothing but a servant. I am Lady Ann Neville. If I choose to remain in this form for the rest of my days then you will follow my decree obediently and gladly. Is that clear?”

Burt quailed, his confidence withering before her regal pomposity. “Yes m’lady. Of course.”

“I am frankly flabbergasted that you would have the audacity to make demands of me.”

“Yes miss. I’m sorry miss.”

“Stop snivelling!”

Burt clamped his mouth shut.

“You may have been a different person once upon a time but that is no longer the case. I am Lady Ann now in every way that matters and you are very clearly Burt Harper.”

“But miss…”

“You look like Burt Harper don’t you?”

He stared into space, refusing to respond, then slowly nodded, feeling awkward ignoring her question.

“And you talk like Burt Harper. Isn’t that right?”

“Aye,” he replied reluctantly. “That I do.”

“You do Burt’s job don’t you? Mucking out the stables and all the labour?”

The burly man nodded.

“You sleep on a pallet in the hay barn? You have your… wicked way with that strumpet from the pub down the road? You spend your nights drinking and fighting with your dirty labourer friends?”

He stared off again.

“And you do as you’re told when your betters command it.” She paused. “Don’t you!” she snapped.

Burt nodded his head forlornly.

“Well then,” said Lady Ann. “That settles it. You may not like it but you have to agree that you are Burt Harper. Aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes m’lady.”

“And you always will be. And if you are Burt then I am your mistress in name and status. It is I, not you, who will make any decision regarding this or any other matter.”

“Yes miss.”

“I do not wish to ever be approached about this subject again. Do you understand?”

“Yes m’lady.”

“You will accept your station permanently. You will put it out of your mind that things were ever any different.”

“Yes miss. I’m sorry miss.”

“Good.” She glared at him until he lowered his eyes and just for a moment, sorrow played across her face. She almost opened her mouth to change her mind or at least part on kind words, but the cold and vindictive side of her wouldn’t allow it. It was entirely unfair but the sad truth of the matter was that the original Lady Ann had been a cruel and ruthless woman. She was as constrained within that persona as Burt was in his.

“I will take both horses back,” she said curtly. “I’ll overlook your indiscretion at taking my father’s horse out.”

“Thank you m’lady. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to think I ‘ad a right to borrow it.”

She walked back to the horses and took the rein of the stallion, leading it back to Rosebud. “Well help me up then you stupid little man.”

Burt hurried over and did his best to do so. Ann climbed into position then she looked down at him. “You will never mention this again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes miss.”

“You will be Burt Harper until the day you die.”

“Yes m’lady.”

“And I will be Lady Ann.”

She spurred her horse and broke away, leading the stallion behind her, with Burt looking forlornly on from the riverbank.