LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Twelve - Part Three

Trapped in the body of his own housemaid, Lord Howard Neville was feeling worse and worse but at least he had managed to get away for a moment from the constant pressure of chores.

Although the imposter in his body and his wife Elizabeth had left to return to Griply Hall, the rest of the family were still enjoying the post-picnic relaxation. The food had been laid out and eaten and then cleared away and during that entire period he had been bossed about terribly, forced to scurry and serve to people who were ordinarily beneath him in rank. It was mortifying to have to serve his own younger brother, Patrick, especially dressed as and in the form of a woman!

But things had quieted down now and he had succeeded in breaking away.

He stood leaning against the back of one of the coaches, trying desperately to quiet his frantic thoughts. It was impossible to know whether it was his own terror at this predicament or the flighty feminine emotions he must now surely be the victim of, but he could not gather his thoughts and keep calm. He felt tearful, though thus far he had managed to resist weeping openly.

This was the first time he had really had the chance to stop and think; to examine this feminine body he had taken on. He was used to having powerful limbs but these were spindly and weak with barely any meat on the forearms, though more on the upper arms. His breasts (his breasts!) were smallish and oddly shaped and his stomach was squidgy and pot-bellied. It was so strange to touch his face and feel only smooth skin. His nose was about the same size it had been as a man but on his smaller head it dominated far more.

He had never fantasised about being a woman – no real man would lower himself to doing such a thing – but if he had done, then he might have at least hoped to be beautiful. To be homely and a maid was to be afflicted with every possible burden.

He knew what he had to do though – the only thing he could do. He had to confront the doppelganger who had stolen his position. He had to demand his body and life; his status; back.

“Nellie!”

Howard jerked to look in the direction of the voice.  He hated to admit it but he was already used to being called by that God-awful name.

The housekeeper came round the side of the coach with a sour expression on her face. “There you are you silly girl. Hurry up. It’s time to leave.”

Howard hurried after her as she marched off.

The coaches had already been packed. The one that carried the false Earl and Elizabeth away had returned. The family climbed on board and the servants did the same. Howard looked longingly at the family’s coaches, wishing he could join them. Instead he had to endure the harsh rocking all the way back to Griply Hall with no furnishings and too many people squeezed into the small space. Again the footman kept staring at him with a deeply unpleasant twinkle in his eye. Howard looked away, making sure his ankles were covered by his long black skirt.

It just wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be trapped like this. He wasn’t meant to be a woman; least of all a common serving girl! It was humiliating.

When the coaches reached Griply Hall Howard was bullied out again to help the gentlemen and ladies down! Then he had to assist in moving the baggage and picnic things round to the kitchens! Then he had to help put them away! It was relentless!

When all that was done he slipped toward the door to the main part of the house.

“Where do you think you’re going, Nellie my girl?”

It was the cook, standing in the centre of the kitchen, her meaty fists resting on her hips.

Howard blanched, unsure of himself.

“The family will be wanting dinner in no time,” she said. “We’ve got to start preparing it.”

Howard gaped at her. It really was never-ending. “But I... I was just going to, er...” He tried to think of the correct term a maid might employ to mean a trip to the water closet.

The cook sighed and shook her head. “Well hurry up then you silly girl. I ain’t doing all this by meself.”

Howard nodded and made as though he were heading to the toilet. Instead, as soon as she turned away, he made his way into the depths of the house. This had to end now. He couldn’t abide staying as a woman a moment longer!

As he penetrated the gloomy interior of the hall he listened intently. It didn’t take him long to pick out the trumpeting voice of the fake Earl but as he got closer he felt more and more uncertain.

The faux Earl was talking loudly about the problems with the local vicar and the tedium of the Sunday service.

Howard crept up to the drawing room door and peeped through the crack there. The family were seated round, Felicity on the floor, Reggie looking petulant in the corner. The evil Earl was standing at the fireplace, his elbow resting on the mantelpiece while he talked on and on.

“The problem is that the vicar is far too old,” said the fake Earl. “Why he’s even older than – er – than I am. He’s a doddering old fool and his sermons are far too dry.”

He went on and on but all Howard could do was stare. He didn’t know who this imposter really was but whoever he was he was no housemaid. His accent was perfect and he knew exactly what he was talking about. His description of the local vicar was accurate to the smallest detail. He really was dreary. Howard had had a long standing joke with Hattie about it.

He just couldn’t see how somebody from outside the family could come in here and take his place so convincingly, knowing exactly what to do and how to act. It was impossible. And that made Howard very nervous. It made him question things he didn’t want to question. It made him ask again if maybe that was the real Earl he was watching; if maybe everything he thought he knew was a lie.

“Nellie!”

Howard looked back toward the kitchens. He was being called. He couldn’t loiter here all day when he had chores to do.

“Oh God,” he murmured. “I have to break this wicked spell soon or I will be lost forever.”