LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Twelve - Part Fifteen

At the end of the evening, Hattie entered her father’s bedroom to find Reggie, in her mother’s body, already fast asleep in the large four poster bed.

Once she’d closed the door she paused, unsure exactly how she felt about that. It was all such a tangle already. It was difficult to keep track of who was who. Going to sleep in her father’s bed was once thing. Doing it in her father’s body was something else. Getting into bed with her own mother was a step even further than that, but beyond everything was doing all of that while knowing that her mother, or wife now effectively, was really a four year old boy.

Hattie chuckled, shaking her head, relieved that Reggie was asleep. If he hadn’t been it might have been too strange to cope with.

She went to the bed and turned back the covers on her side. Her father’s pyjamas were folded there ready for her to put on. She regarded them for a long moment. This game hadn’t been meant to go on so long really. Or at least she had planned to end it in the middle of the night. Putting on these pyjamas and going to sleep meant another day as her father; another full night for the progressive alteration of her psyche to tick on. She honestly didn’t think it would go too far in such a short time but it was still disquieting. She was already able to act so much like her father. How much further could that progress over the course of another twenty four hours?

She undressed, climbing out of her suit, still careful not to let her attention sink down to her crotch. She laid her clothes over a chair and put the pyjamas on instead. Dressing in the suit that morning had given her a sense of choosing to become more like her father. This had the same effect. She was putting on more of his clothes. That decision was another step deeper into his life.

The pyjamas were made of the finest silk and were very comfortable but were also entirely different from any nightclothes she had worn before. They made her feel odd.

She went to the dressing table and looked at her reflection.

Her reflection...

Her father’s face looked back at her; still rather jarring, though surely she was getting used to it by now. Being the Earl was so different from being herself. It wasn’t something she could forget from moment to moment. Every single minute in his form was a reiteration of her new identity, reminding her of who she was now.

She straightened her pyjama top in the mirror, scrutinising herself from waist to crown. When she caught her expression, she noticed how stern it was. She had never seen such a look on her real female face. Seeing it and recognising the difference gave her another shiver of that feeling she had had in the hall earlier, shouting at her father the maid: that she really was the Earl now; that she really was Howard Neville.

That would really be an awful happenstance but she couldn’t deny how much she was enjoying it, nor or well her mischief had done so far. Everything had been seamless. It couldn’t have gone any better.

Her mother made an adorable little Reggie being punished for daring to complain about her sad lot.

Her father was being bullied as a servant and had already taken on so many traits of the girl he used to be.

And Nellie and Reggie were functioning fine in their new roles, supporting the changes that needed to occur.

One more day and then she would put everybody back the way they were meant to be.

She stroked her rough, lined face down to the chin, smoothed her bushy moustache and then straightened the crescent of hair about her ears, glancing at her gleaming baldness. She had done such a good job imitating her father. In fact she had enjoyed that aspect even more than the revenge itself. It was a very welcome side-effect.

The funniest part had been pretending to share her father’s views on women, them being so contrary to her own beliefs, but again, she couldn’t help but reflect on the differing perspective she had now. Being a man had opened her eyes to so many things. Who would have guessed that she, a secret feminist, would come to accept the limitations of the female gender, but she was starting to. It was simply a fact that men were superior to women in many different ways. That was something she knew now to be true.

She supposed it was a shame she had realised that because it would make going back to being female a step down in many ways. Before, as a woman, she hadn’t recognised her inferior status. Now that she had she would miss being a man. But it couldn’t be helped. She missed being herself terribly.

Still, it was funny to imagine becoming more and more comfortable in her father’s form; come to understand his perspective and beliefs in more detail. It was so interesting becoming somebody else.

It reminded her of the lines she had given Reggie that turned him more into her mother. Again she was tempted to do the same herself.

She gazed at her craggy face and smiled with the side of her mouth, her moustache curling up.

What would it hurt, just to try it out just once before she went to sleep? It wouldn’t have much of an effect if she didn’t repeat it.

But dare she risk it? Was it a mistake to do so?

Only once couldn’t be a problem surely. Reggie had done his lines a hundred times.

Her lips straightened and she inhaled, staring into her own eyes, and said, “My name is Howard Bartholomew Neville, the Earl, Lord Neville. I am a fifty six year old man who owns the better part of this valley.”

She felt a faint buzzing at the back of her neck that made her feel very pleasant. That feeling coaxed her on.

Seeing her father’s face looking back at her and hearing those words with his voice made it seem so much truer. It made it feel real. She liked that feeling.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to do it a second time.

“I am Howard Neville,” he said, then nervously, he continued. “I am a bombastic and confident man who looks down on women and bullies all those around him.”

That gave him an odd feeling in his nether regions as well as intensifying the pleasant stroking at the base of his skull.

He stroked his hand back across his bald head.

“I am Lord Howard Neville. I have a wife named Elizabeth and two daughters named Ann and Harriet.”

He felt so content suddenly; so relaxed. He was sleepy. He wanted to get into bed now.

It had been nice to do that and he could sense no unpleasant side effects. Doing it more than once really hadn’t been a problem.

Perhaps one more time would be good before he settled down to bed.

“I am Howard Neville, the Earl of Griply Hall. I am a haughty misogynist who looks down on everyone about him; an arrogant and overconfident aristocrat.”