LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Five - Part Seven

Ann stared at her former sister, questioning whether she had heard correctly, though inside her faltering heart she knew that she had.

For the briefest time there was a flurry of different queries in her mind: Did the imposter Ann put her up to this? Was Mavis trying to steal her life? Or did Hattie somehow know what the pendant could do? Did she even know who was hidden behind this face Ann was wearing? Could she even know the masculine identity that had once been hers?

And then suddenly Powell, the butler, was moving, reaching toward her with two grasping hands, and Ann realised she had only an instant to react or she would be trapped in that odious shape until the end of her days; nothing but a common barmaid.

She staggered back, almost losing her balance, almost twisting her ankle. Powell’s reaching hand snatched at the place she had been. But he anticipated her withdrawal. He kept coming!

“You can’t have it,” she said. “It’s mine. It’s really really mine!”

“Take it from her Powell,” said Hattie, pointing right at the pendant round Ann’s neck. “She’s a thief!”

“No!” cried Ann, turning and starting to flee.

Powell was a lot older than her but he was spry and determined and far broader than she was. He pitched forward, accelerating and Ann squealed in horror, running onto the grass and cutting left.

“Quickly Powell!” called Hattie and beside her, the cook pulled away from the house too to make pursuit.

Ann gaped in horror at her pursuers and tried to run faster, but her skirts and heels made it impossible to attain any kind of real speed.

She ran onto the lawns at the rear of the hall and Powell ran after her. She weaved left and right but she could see ahead to the hedge blocking her way. She ran sharp to the left, hoping to circle back, but Powell cut across the diagonal, closing on her. In panic, Ann screamed again. She couldn’t allow him to catch her. She couldn’t give up the pendant!

She jinked to the right again and circled one of the expansive flower beds, putting it between her and the butler. Powell saw the predicament and scowled, reluctant to cut across the centre of the bed. But behind him, the cook was approaching and past her, the gardener was on his feet as well, coming to assist. Observing imperiously, Hattie stood at the edge of the flagstone patio outside the kitchen door, arms folded, smirking. Ann looked desperately from one to the other of her pursuers then glanced left, right and behind her, looking for some reliable means of egress.

There was none.

The butler gave a snarl and ran to his left, coming round the flowerbed. Ann cried out in alarm and ran the other way, but the cook was getting close now and came at her. The woman was much older but if she managed to snatch at Ann it would slow her down. She was younger than all three of the servants after her but she couldn’t fight them all off.

“Get her!” cried Hattie.

The gardener sped up, loping toward her the same way the cook was coming, and Ann fell away, turning her back on them and running as fast as she could toward the far corner of the garden, hoping to push her way through the hedge – anything to escape! She shouldn’t have fled this way. She shouldn’t have come into the back garden. She was trapped. But there had to be a way out. There had to be!

Hattie followed into the garden, giggling at her sister’s predicament, wondering if that little trinket could really possess the powers she’d attributed to it. It didn’t seem plausible but everything she was seeing confirmed the story that Mavis had told her. This had to be Ann. She was far too fearful of losing the pendant for it not to be.

It was hilarious!

Ann hurled herself over one of the big flowerbeds, pulling a little ahead of Powell in doing so, but she was running out of garden, and now she was here she could see how fruitless this avenue of escape was. The hedge was far too high and too thick. Even if she were able to push herself through or scale it, Powell and the others would snatch her down before she possibly could!

She ran up to it in the corner of the garden and stopped, frantically looking up and then back, knowing she was doomed. The butler and cook were only yards away now, slowing down, eying her warily. The gardener was limping more than he usually did but he was closing in too and he was far stronger than she was. She would never escape his grip if he caught hold of her. Ann looked from one to the other of them; to Hattie beyond, also closing in on her. She started to dart one way or the other, but stopped when she saw them jerk to head her off.

They were forming a closing pincer, coming in on her and the panic she was feeling got whiter and hotter as she realised she wasn’t going to be able to get out of this. They were going to catch her. They were going to take the pendant away – the only means she had of returning to her former body.

Only five or six feet away now, Powell, the cook and the gardener regarded her with hostility. Hattie hurried up behind, still smirking. “What are you waiting for?” she snapped. “Catch the urchin. Take back that necklace.”

Ann saw them start to move; hesitate; come in for the kill. She made to flee to her right, jerked to a stop; went for her left. But the gardener grabbed her arm. Powell had her back. The cook was there, reaching for her, blocking her escape.

She screamed in abject fright. She had to escape! She had to escape!

But every instant they came in closer, tightening their grips on her.

She fought frantically, trying to break free, but again, both men only grappled her faster.

“Let me go!” she cried. “Please! Let me go!”

“No! Hold her!” called Hattie.

Ann gaped at her in accusation and hatred. How could her sister betray her so?

“Get the pendant off her!” said Hattie.

“No! It’s mine!” cried Ann.

“Get it off her!”

“No!”

The cook’s hands came in, snatching the pendant up by the chain, lifting it from Ann’s chest.

Ann fought even harder. Her entire existence depended on it. But the men had her arms pulled out to her sides. She couldn’t possibly get free. And the cook was pulling the pendant up over her head.

“I need it!” cried Ann. “Don’t take it! Please!”

“Be careful with that,” said Hattie. “Don’t touch the stone.”

Everyone on the lawn paused a little to look at her, hearing the odd instruction, and none more so than Ann herself. Her eyes went wide with realisation and despair.

Hattie knew about the pendant. She had to. She knew exactly what it was and what it did. She knew that Ann wasn’t who she looked like.

But at that moment it was too late. The cook pulled the pendant clear of Ann’s head. No matter how much she struggled, Ann couldn’t get it back.

“Bring it to me,” said Hattie, approaching with a triumphant smile on her face.

The cook brandished the pendant toward her and, taking out a handkerchief, Hattie took it, careful not to touch any part of the jewellery. She wrapped first the stone and then the chain too into the handkerchief, covering it over. Ann watched with dread and worry.

“Hattie,” she said. “Please don’t take it away from me.” And at her use of that name, all three servants tensed, the man, tightening their grips on her painfully.

Hattie looked back at her with mirth and victory in her gaze, tucking the pendant into a fold of her dress, and she said, “I’ll thank you not to address me in such a familiar way Mavis. As a peasant and a tavern wench, you should have more respect for your betters. Is that clear?”

Ann glared back at her, refusing to speak.

“I said, is that clear?” snapped Hattie.

Powell jerked Ann’s arm hard. “Answer her girl.”

Ann pressed her lips together, refusing to speak.

"Well,” said Hattie with a smirk, “what else can one expect from the lower orders?" She stepped back. “Escort her off the grounds immediately. I don’t want to see her lowborn bumpkin face anymore.”

Then she turned her back on Ann’s horrified face and strode back toward the house.