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Slowly, she stood and moved toward the full-length mirror, staring back at her reflection. Unhappy with what she saw, she began to shed her clothes. She took off the cravat and waistcoat first, then the shirt and the trousers, until she was left in her underdrawers and the linen that bound her breasts flat.
She paused for a minute, staring at that binding, and realised how well it had worked to hide her most feminine attribute. Suddenly feeling angry at it, she began to shed the binding, pulling the linen free of her body. It took a while, and her hands became more and more frantic with the movement until she was so desperate to be free of it that she nearly ripped the material. Once she was free of it, she removed the underdrawers as well and stared at her body in the mirror.
“I’m still a woman,” she murmured to herself. It was not the idea of womanhood she had objected to in the first place, merely the restraints placed upon that position, yet as a man. she had equal restraints. They were just different ones.
The restraint that faced her now made her close her eyes in an effort to ward off more tears. She was separated from the man she loved, indefinitely, if she chose to keep her secret forever.
As she climbed into bed, happy to sleep naked that night, with hope she clung to the memory of Lord Northrive’s words from earlier that day when he had talked of wishing Lady Helen were more like her. Yet the sight of him sheltering Lady Helen from the rain broke that happy thought.
“Maybe he didn’t mean it,” she whispered into the air and rolled over in bed, struggling to sleep.
Another memory tore through. It was Peter that evening and the comments he’d made, as well as how often he had stared at her across the room. She was becoming more and more sure that Peter at least suspected her secret, even if he didn’t know it for certain. If that were true, then would it even be safe to stay in the house anymore?
“Perhaps Sherborne is right,” she whispered into the pillow. “Perhaps it is time to leave this house. For good.”
***
Violette had long since given up trying to find Sherborne. She had rung the bell for him that morning, but he never came. Having dressed and left the room to come down for breakfast, there was still no sign of him in the main part of the house either, leaving her to wallow in her sadness alone. She knew she had to find him to apologise at some point for her outburst the night before, but that was made very difficult indeed by his absence!
She tried to busy herself with breakfast as she ate alone, but to her dismay, she was soon joined by the one person in the house who she dreaded to see.
“Mr Blake? How lucky to see you here,” Lady Helen said as she hurriedly sat in the chair beside Violette and inched the chair a little closer to her. “I was most disappointed not to dance with you last night.”
“I think you had a superior partner, my lady,” Violette said, keeping her intent gaze on her breakfast as she finished up. The faster she ate, she figured the quicker she could escape Lady Helen’s attention.
“Oh, we can debate that as much as you like,” Lady Helen said with a giggle. Violette finished the last of her food and washed it down with a slurp of tea. Satisfied she had her ruse to escape, she pushed back her chair.
“If you would excuse me—”
“Ah, you are finished already? How fortunate, for I am not fond of breakfast myself.”
“I see,” Violette said, sighing when she realised her mistake.
“Would you take a turn with me in the garden, Mr Blake?” Lady Helen said, standing to her feet. “I would greatly enjoy your company.”
“Perhaps you should wait for Lord Northrive. He will be better company, I am sure.”
“Would you deny a lady, Mr Blake?” Lady Helen said, offering her arm. The arrogance of the words made Violette tap the chair she was sat on, but she couldn’t think of a response without her curtness coming across as rudeness, so she gave up trying to extricate herself from the lady. She stood and moved to Lady Helen’s side. “I am so glad I have changed your mind. There is much I need to talk to you about.”
“If it is Lord Northrive of which you wish to speak, I can tell you many a thing about him,” Violette said, keen to ensure that he still had a chance with the lady. After all, if Lady Helen was going to be the thing that made him happy, Violette would not destroy that.
“Oh no, there is something else all the more interesting I wish to speak to you of,” Lady Helen said, irking Violette further. They stepped out into the entrance hall together and then through the doorway into the garden. Violette used the opportunity to glance around herself repeatedly, looking for Sherborne, but there was still no sign of him.
In the garden, they walked in silence for a minute, until Lady Helen talked of the heat of the sun causing her damage, and they had to detour their walk to the nearest trees.
“Now, what is it you wished to speak to me about?” Violette said, deciding it was best to get the conversation over and done with as quickly as possible.
“Oh, it is a story,” she said, leaning toward her and whispering with glee. “An intriguing story I think you will like.”
“I am not fond of gossip,” she said curtly. “If you wish to speak of gossip, I am sure you can find a better audience than me.”
“No, no, for I can think of no more apt audience than you for this tale.” Lady Helen’s giggle piqued Violette’s curiosity this time. She frowned and looked toward the lady. “There is a story coming out of Oxfordshire. It is the tale of a young lady, a lady who has disappeared from her home.”
Violette tried to swallow, but her mouth had suddenly gone dry, and her throat was parched. She highly doubted there were many ladies from her home county to have gone missing recently.
“Oh?” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“It is a great scandal indeed! For I heard it through the servants’ whispering that the lady must have cut off all her hair, for they found her cut hair at home, along with some clothes that were missing, though they were not her own clothes, but her brother’s!” Lady Helen’s words made Violette come to a stop, her feet digging sharply into the grassy earth beneath them, just as Lady Helen tightened her hold through her arm.
