Lady Ann's Greatly Extended Holiday - Chapter Thirty Two free porn video

Chapter Thirty Two The Trial 1 Burt sat once again on the floor of his cell, his knees up in front of him, his head in his hands. He'd hardly slept. How could he, knowing what was happening to him today and how hopeless it was? Lady Ann was on her way back, at long last, and she would be just in time to witness him being carted off to prison, sentenced to years' imprisonment as a common thief. When he'd heard she was returning it had opened a crack in the certain knowledge he'd had that he would never go back to his former life, but how could he now? Even if she was on her way home, planning to trade back - even if there had been a good reason for the two week delay in her return, how could he expect her to go through with it if he was going to prison? He had ruined her ladyship's former life. She would never want it back now, however good her intentions. She would be a fool to accept a trade, knowing it would condemn her to years of imprisonment for a crime she didn't commit. No. He had ruined everything in his zeal to reach the pendant. He had condemned himself to prison as surely as if he were the magistrate. No one could save him now. And maybe that was for the best. He couldn't bear the thought of Lady Ann seeing how low and pitiful he had become. At least if he were sentenced to prison he might be taken away before she saw him. It would be much better that way. He could hide his shame within the cold walls of Wakefield Prison and know at least that her ladyship hadn't witnessed what had become of him. 2 Tears filled Ann's eyes when she turned the corner at the top of the stair and saw her grandmamma waiting for her in the hall. Over the past month she had grown so fond of the elderly lady; it seemed impossible to really be leaving her now. In a very real way, Ann had known her for her entire life... as a woman. Grandmamma had helped mould her into the lady she had become. She was more a mother than anyone else. Long gone were the black clothes of mourning and as Ann gracefully descended, the Duchess's face was brimming with happiness and love. They met one another at the foot of the stairs with outstretched hands and stood smiling, then they embraced, tightly and fondly; almost desperately. "I'm going to miss you so much Grandmamma," said Ann. "So very much." "And I you child. I won't have anyone to drag with me to those tedious lunches." Ann laughed. "Grandmamma! I thought you loved going to them!" "Oh God no. Taking you with me was the only thing that made them bearable." They both laughed and embraced again. When they pulled apart, both ladies were crying. "I'll see you again soon," said the Duchess. "I hope so," replied Ann. "I really do hope so." The elderly lady stroked Ann's face with her hand. "You're like a daughter to me you know." Ann smiled happily, the tears streaming down her face. "Goodbye my dear," said Grandmamma. "Goodbye. And God bless you." They embraced once more and then Ann withdrew. With only one last look at her dear sweet grandmother, she went outside to the coach where Richard was waiting looking slightly testy. "I didn't get as much work done as I would have liked," he said. He helped her into the coach. "I think in a week or so I'll take you to Crackshaw, my estate in Nockton Vale. I need to take a more direct hand in the new factories being built in Barton and it would be nice to show you around." Ann wondered if it would really be she who went along with him or if she would have swapped back by then. Unsure what to respond, she said, "Yes. That would be lovely." Her grandmamma's stable hand shut the door of the coach and made brief eye contact with her as it pulled away. Ann leaned back into her seat, smiling to herself. "I don't see the hurry to get back there to be honest," said Richard." Ann crossed her legs, straightening her skirts. "My father is punishing one of the servants at the hall," she said. "I'm hoping to get there before it's too late and persuade him to be... lenient." 3 Being put on trial was far worse than Burt had anticipated. He had shackles on his wrists and ankles as though he were a hardened criminal - the gaoler had seen to that as he leered and cackled away before the procession had begun. And the procession had been awful as well: led through the muddy streets of the village with the side of the road lined by gawping villagers, staring or pointing and laughing. The children ran alongside him as he was led, circling him and the gaoler. Being in the stocks had been awful. That had been surpassed by his flogging in the village square. Now this topped them both because it took place in the cold light of day, without the shock and panic of the whipping. He knew how hopeless his situation was. His humiliation was complete. They dragged him to the corner and onto the main road, passing the Dog & Pony where Mavis stood alongside her father and brothers, wringing her apron in her hands. Their eyes found one another but there was no further communication. There couldn't be. Even Mavis now knew that Burt was beyond her reach. He saw the village hall up ahead, converted for the day to the use of a courthouse. Every step closer he went was another nail in the coffin of his freedom. But why quibble? His freedom had been taken from him days earlier. He wasn't a free man now and wouldn't be again until years had gone by. Outside the village hall, a secure prison coach was stood waiting in anticipation of a guilty verdict. There would be no delay. Burt would be locked up in that, staring out through the barred windows as they drew him away and transported him to prison. He eyed it forlornly as he drew closer, then level with it. For an instant he imagined it was a normal coach, an opulent marvel of beauty and comfort, come to carry him off to a ball as Lady Ann. But he wasn't Lady Ann no more. Those days were totally out of reach now. The best he could hope for was to return to his servant's life for the rest of his days and even that was hopelessly impossible. He got to the grand doorway to the village hall and took one last look back across the diagonal to Mavis' face. It looked so full of pain and yearning. He wanted so much to be with her one more time, even if only for a moment. But the gaoler jabbed him in the back, forcing him through the door and into the darkness and she was gone. He was led into an antechamber and made to wait. Half an hour passed. Then an hour. Finally he was taken through into the main hall and gasped to see the arrayed people, the entirely new layout. He was led to a temporarily erected barrier and made to stand. The magistrate, an elderly man with a face like death himself, sat at a desk near the wall. The rest of the space was filled with chairs, benches and then standing room. The Earl wanted an example to be made and that meant witnesses. The hall was full to bursting. Everyone wanted to see his humiliating fall and Burt spied many faces he knew. The Earl and Countess were there, his... former parents - employers now really. Lady Harriet sat with them, still looking rather shaken by the proceedings. Old Harry was near the back alongside Jeb. Mavis and her father were near the door, the lass's face a picture of tender but pessimistic concern. In moments the magistrate started the proceedings and it instantly took a turn for the worse. He was a cold and officious man, hard-faced and hard-eyed. He glared at Burt as he ran through the preliminary sections. He had no empathy in his pose or expression. He would clearly have sentenced Burt to hang if it had been allowed by the law. Burt just stood in a bewildered daze as the first witness was called - the Earl himself. The old man stood and answered the questions he was posed, painting a picture of the events the night before last. Throughout he glared in clear anger at Burt but Burt couldn't face him. He hung his head in shame as his crimes were laid out; activities he now fully realised had been wrong for someone of his meagre station. The Earl finished by saying, "I have never been so disappointed and disgusted by a man in my employ. This blackguard is nothing but a diabolical criminal and I recommend he be punished to the full extent of the law. The magistrate thanked him, smiling for the first time with a lion's smile. The Earl withdrew and took his seat. Next Lady Harriet was called, looking unhappy and uncomfortable. The magistrate began his questioning based clearly on information he had received previously from the Earl. Initially Hattie was evasive but when pressed she started to confirm the full details of Burt's unlawful entry to the hall and his attempted theft of the pendant; his "filthy and morally vacuous groping through her ladyship's drawers." The questioning rounded out and despite himself, Burt almost quivered with relief when the gaoler's vicious forebodings didn't come to pass regarding his ill-fated attempt to woo Hattie on Griply Mount. Then the magistrate said, "And now tell us about the attempted indecent assault on your person by the prisoner." Burt's mouth slid flaccidly open and a cold draught crept up his spine from his belt to his neck. Again Hattie was evasive and vague but the Earl cleared his throat loudly and her eyes danced fearfully over to him. Starting quietly, she said, "That man there; the prisoner; approached me after dark well away from other eyes up on the hill near the hall." The magistrate checked his notes. "Griply Mount?" "Yes." "And?" "And he propositioned me in a lewd manner, suggesting that he and I might..." There was a long and hungry pause. "That you might... have intercourse?" asked the magistrate. There was a ripple of whispers from the crowd. Burt hung his head further, unable to bear the thought of seeing Mavis's expression. Hattie squirmed, unwilling to confirm the severity of the accusation. All mischief and playfulness was gone from her manner. She fully understood now the impact of her words and actions. "I don't think it is necessary for my daughter to be forced to relive the brutality of this obscene incident," said the Earl loudly. "Her silence speaks as loudly as her words would." Burt looked at the magistrate. It seemed he would disagree, but instead he said, "Indeed. You may step down Lady Harriet." Hattie went back to her seat, her eyes brimming with tears. The Countess enfolded her in her arms. There was a long silent minute while the magistrate sorted through his papers, then he addressed Burt directly. "Burt Harper, you have heard the accusations made against you and, despite your lack of education and retarded intelligence, you understand the seriousness of your crimes. Is that correct?" Burt nodded. "Yes sir." "To the crime of theft, how do you plead?" Burt looked back at the gaunt uncaring man. He knew that an admittance of guilt would send him to prison, but what else could he give? He accepted now that the pendant didn't belong to him. It was Lady Ann's. To take it without permission was theft; it was as simple as that. He wished he could lie to the man, do anything to squirm out of it, but this was one of his betters. He didn't dare lie to a direct question. "I'm guilty sir," he said. A furore of whispers ran round the crowd. The magistrate allowed time for them to settle. "And to the act of unlawfully entering a dwelling house and, in a most insidious way, rifling through the undergarments of a titled lady?" Burt swallowed, sweating profusely. It was all such a terrible misunderstanding, but again, he had done this. It wasn't his home. He had no right to be there. He had gone in against all knowledge and instinct that he should remain outside. And he had looked through her ladyship's things. The intention had been to find the pendant but he knew in his heart that he'd gained a dirty sexual pleasure from doing so. "I'm guilty your honour." This time the chatter was loud enough for the magistrate to bang his gavel to bring the room to order. He made a second note on the paper before him and then levelled his cold eyes on Burt once more. "You are accused of brutally beating one of your fellow men with the intention to cause grievous bodily harm." Burt thought of the man in the alley; Mavis screaming at him to stop; the Earl catching him in the act; the night in the stocks. "How do you plead?" "Guilty sir," replied Burt. There was no use denying that and he had no wish for Mavis to be called as a witness. The crowd remained silent. "To the crime of indecently harassing Lady Harriet Neville for the express purpose of instigating improper relations... How do you plead?" Burt's face turned a dark and simmering red. He felt all eyes in the court on him; condemning him. He looked down at his boots, knowing that with this accusation more than any other he should keep his mouth shut. But he had propositioned her ladyship, entirely inappropriately. She was infinitely superior to him and he had approached her with lewd and coarse suggestions. He had wanted nothing more than to engage with her in sexual relations. He was guilty of this and everything else they had accused him of and he was going to go to prison for it. "I'm guilty your honour," he said and now the entire hall erupted in chatter and cries of horror. Burt turned a still deeper shade of red. He knew now that he was entirely doomed. There was no way out of this. His only hope was that Lady Ann might walk into the hall in the next few minutes to forgive him of the crimes against her at least, somehow mitigate the accusations levelled at him and reduce the inevitable sentence. He looked to the door, hoping against all hope that it would open right now and admit her entrance. Lady Ann was the only one who could save him. 4 Over two hundred miles away to the south, Lady Ann sat beside Richard on the train as it pulled slowly through the outskirts of London. She looked sadly across the soot-black buildings and slate roofs, wishing she didn't have to leave the splendour of the capital but yearning still for the beauty of the countryside. As both Ann and Burt she had lived the better part of her life in Griply and the memories were so seamlessly intermingled now, it was impossible without introspection to judge which belonged to whom. All she knew was that she wanted to go home and as quickly as possible. It was a shame there were so many hours of travel merely to get to York. Changing trains there was bound to delay them further and their train to Griply was even slower. In all likelihood they would end up staying the night in York. But what did it matter really? What harm could there be in delaying? 5 The magistrate hammered his gavel down three times; hard controlled strokes. The crowd quieted slowly. He brought it down a fourth time and the last whispered titters ceased. Burt gaped at him unhappily, knowing that the worst was yet to come, wishing again that he had just been happy with his servant's life and willing to do anything to get it back and cling onto it forever. "Burt Harper!" cried the magistrate. "You stand here accused of heinous and insidious crimes perpetrated against your betters; of violating their rules and betraying their care and generosity many times over. You are accused of brutal and wilful violence against an innocent man for no reason but to satisfy your own wicked urges." He paused. "And you stand for the most depraved and iniquitous crimes imaginable against two ladies of the gentry." There were hushed whispers. The magistrate went on. "To all these crimes you have pleaded guilty; no doubt presuming a half- hearted show of remorse well after the fact will alleviate the severity of your punishment." Burt raised his head in surprise, shaking it dully. "I see no reason to pamper to this obvious attempt to play the system. I have tried and sentenced many a criminal in my time and have rarely seen a clearer example of abject villainy." He narrowed his eyes. "As such, I see no reason not to follow the recommendation of the good Earl and make an example of you to show in the plainest possible terms what a life of such moral repugnance can and will lead to. You will be sentenced to the maximum penalty allowed by law." Burt shook his head again, his mouth dry. "I hereby sentence you to be taken from this courthouse and transported to Wakefield maximum security prison, there to be imprisoned for no less than sixteen years." Burt felt dizzy. He couldn't breathe. He was going to fall. But he didn't. He went on standing there, staring at this man as the full implication of this sentence settled over his mind. He was going to prison. He was never going back to his life as a servant. He would be branded a criminal forever. There would never be a chance to trade lives with Lady Ann ever again. His life was over. There was no way out. The crowd erupted into intense chatter, almost everyone present jabbering in excitement or shock. Burt caught Mavis's eye but instead of condemnation there for what he had done there was only regret and sorrow for his predicament. "Order!" cried the magistrate. "Order!" He hammered down his gavel over and over again. The noise of the crowd dimmed but went on and the magistrate ended up raising his voice above it. "Bailiff, remove the prisoner for transport!" The hunched man who'd stood on guard throughout the proceedings stepped up and took hold of Burt's arm, jerking him to his right and leading him. It was happening so fast. There was no time to think or even fully comprehend that his life was disintegrating around him. Surely Lady Ann could still come! She could still save him! But the door remained closed. She wasn't coming. She would be far too late for that. Burt was jerked again toward the door. The crowd was standing, the chatter swelling even louder. The gaoler stood back, his arms folded, laughing loudly. Burt's vision was blurry. He couldn't quite understand what was happening to him. His dim brain couldn't comprehend the enormity of the impact this was going to have on his life. Sixteen years! He'd be an old man! An ex-convict with no prospects and no skills! And that was after years and years and years of life in a tiny cell with no freedom and no companionship. He had been a lady! He had been one of the gentry! How could it come to this? How could he have been so stupid to make the choices he had made, falling further and further into the life he was now trapped in? Oh he would pay for his careless foolishness. He would pay a thousand times over! "Stop!" Burt abruptly came to a halt. The crowd went quiet. The bailiff turned round and Burt turned with him. Every face in the hall looked toward where the exclamation had come from; directly into the face of the Earl. The old man stood strong and proud, head tilted up, eyes blazing at Burt. "What is the meaning of this delay?" asked the magistrate. The Earl paused then turned to the fleshless man. "I wish to withdraw the charges against this man." "What? After sentencing? That is preposterous! For what possible reason?" "Because..." The Earl stepped forward. "On the whole, this servant has committed crimes against my daughter, Ann, not present here today." He looked slowly round at the crowd. "I spoke to her about these matters on the telephone yesterday and she told me she bore no enmity against this man. She bid me to let him go free." He shook his head. "But instead, enraged by his insolence I chose to pursue his punishment as vehemently as I could." He paused for a long time. "I choose now to withdraw that. After some introspection, I believe that the course of mercy my daughter encouraged should be followed. I want him to go free." The crowd broke out once more in excited gossip, the sound reaching the highest volume it had yet achieved. "Order!" cried the magistrate. "Order! Please! Order!" The cries and whispers died slowly away. With eyes like steel ball bearings, the magistrate scrutinised the Earl. Utterly bewildered, Burt looked from one man to the other, barely able to follow what was happening with his slow-witted grey matter. "You summon me here with all expediency to conduct this trial," said the magistrate, "and now, with the verdict you pressurised me into pronouncing, you seek to overturn my decision... and make a mockery of these proceedings?" The Earl stood his ground. "Not a mockery sir. I wish to act out of mercy in respect for the wishes of the wronged party." The magistrate looked at Burt then back at the Earl. He checked the papers on the desk before him and then fixed his eyes once more on the older gentleman. "I am afraid the verdict has been given. It is far too late for thoughts of mercy. You may be powerful here in Griply Valley my lord, but there is an authority that I represent that is higher than yours. That is the law of the land! You invoked that power when you called me here and now you must live with the consequences." He smiled his skeletal smile. "More specifically, this base immoral criminal must live with the consequences." "Now just wait a minute--" began the Earl. "Take him away!" declared the magistrate. "Immediately! These proceedings are complete!" 6 Burt put one foot in front of the other, the bailiff pulling at his arm, the crowd watching him as he hung his head in shame and sorrow. There was a hush now. The severity of the sentence had shocked every one of them to the core. Each member of the crowd reflected on how close they all were to such a penance for so small a crime. And more, their own Earl, the absolute authority in the valley, had been denied completely. Such an action was hitherto entirely unheard of and not one among the assemblage could have predicted it. The Earl himself looked stunned by the powerlessness of his word in the face of the magistrate's faith in justice. There was no turning back the clock now. It was too late for any kind of appeal for clemency. Burt approached the main exit doors and it was there that his and Mavis's eyes met for one last time. She looked panicked and afraid, like an animal awaiting the axe. Her cheeks were wet with tears but there was nothing she could do for him and a moment later he was yanked out of her view and into the cold, glaring daylight outside. There was no sun. The sky was a blank featureless grey. It wasn't raining but the ground was wet and there was a heavy, chilling moisture in the air. Burt shivered, his hair and clothes becoming immediately damp. The prison coach was waiting, the back door open and ready, the interior black. There was one guard and a driver, both sternly watching for him. The guard stepped forward as he approached and in a sudden burst of fear, Burt struggled backward, trying to get free. The bailiff clamped on him, wrenching hard and the guard ran to grab his other arm. "Let me go! Please!" cried Burt. "I can't go to prison! It ain't fair!" They dragged him forward, ignoring his flailing elbows, wrists caught by the shackles. The ground was mud and his feet slithered, failing to gain purchase as he pushed ineffectually backwards. The coach drew closer and closer, the darkened rectangle of the back door growing perceptually in size. "No!" cried Burt. "You can't! It ain't right!" The crowds inside were seething out after them and twisting, Burt saw them. He saw the bland eyes of the watchers, the condemnation, the sympathy, the shock. He saw Harry, his face curled into a frown of disappointment and pity. Then Burt was shoved forward and he fell against the steps at the back of the coach, banging his knees and forearms and rippling pain up his scarred back where the lash had bitten. He tried to draw breath but couldn't. His chest felt like two gigantic hands were gripping it from behind tighter than was safe, preventing the expansion of his lungs. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real. How could life have come to this that he was going to prison for sixteen years? Rough hands grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up, throwing him up the steps and through the door of the prison coach. He hammered down on the boards inside, the blackness closing around him, his face cracking against one of the flanking benches with a brief exhalation of pain. He tried to roll over, to get up, but he was stunned. He couldn't quite gather his wits. He put all his strength into it and dropped onto his side. He had to get up - get out of there before they closed the door. Once that door was shut he was finished. The key would be turned in the lock and he would never know true freedom again. Burt flopped over and creased at the waist, reaching toward the open doorway. "No!" he cried. Then the door slammed shut. The rattle of the key came in the lock; the click as the bolt slid inexorably into place. There were muffled cries outside and then shouting to quell them. The coach lurched, creaking, as the driver clambered on board. Burt still couldn't quite get up but he forced himself to. He used his arms to pull himself onto the bench. He still couldn't believe this was really happening. There were more cries from the street and more shouted demands for silence. The coach shuddered. Burt held his breath. The coach jerked. Burt swayed. It stopped. "Oh God, no," he whispered. "Don't let this 'appen to me. Please. I'm begging ye." The coach lurched again and this time it started moving. It was really happening. There really was no escape. Cries went up from all around but Burt could already tell they were falling behind. He was going to prison. He was going to be a convict. His life was over. He would never ever be Lady Ann again. The coach shook gently from side to side. It was really going. It really was too late. Then it lurched again, the other way this time, and Burt cracked his head against the inner front wall. The coach stopped moving. There was silence outside. No sign of movement. A minute went by; then a second. A shudder ran through the coach as the driver moved and then descended. Burt still hadn't caught a breath. With no way of seeing to the rear of the coach, his eyes darted left and right, up and down. He could hear nothing, then quietly, almost inaudibly, he heard words being spoken some way off. Calls came from further back, blocking the sound of it. He missed any sense of meaning. He angled his head: nothing. He pressed his ear to the back door: nothing. Then... there! Footsteps! He heard them distinctly, coming closer. He strained, trying to listen. No sound of dialogue reached him. Then the key rattled again in the lock and he jerked back. The door of the prison coach swung open, the light outside dazzling him. He squinted, trying to see what was going on and made out two figures in silhouette who almost instantly became clearly visible: the driver of the coach and Old Harry! Old Harry! "Get out o'there Burt," he said, slightly breathlessly. "Quick now or they'll drag you off yet." "What's goin on?" he stammered. "Don't ask questions; just get out." Burt staggered down the steps, still in his shackles and Harry took his arm. "Harry?" "Shhh." Back down the way they'd come, a hundred yards away, stood the village hall and the crowd of onlookers. Outside of it the Earl was standing with the magistrate. Burt looked back at Harry as the guard unlocked the shackles round his wrists and let him free. "What's goin on?" asked Burt, stepping away, looking back in wonder at the prison coach, uncomprehending of how he'd managed to seemingly break free from that onrushing fate. The guard and driver withdrew, not even looking at him. One of them closed the door in the back of the coach. The old man still wasn't talking but Burt had never seen the likes of the expression on his whiskery features. "Harry," he said. "Tell me what's what. Ow is it that I'm free?" Harry looked at him with hard eyes and just for a moment his cheeks brightened with mirth. "You've got a guardian angel my boy," he said, "and I never would've believed it." "What?" Harry took his arm and started leading him back into the centre of the village. "The Earl," he said. "I don't know what made him change his mind about pressing charges but when the magistrate said you was goin to prison anyway and 'ad you dragged outta there he just about blew his top." Burt looked at Harry in surprise. "Over me?" Harry chuckled. "Not over you. Not as such. I doubt he cares one whit about what happens to you... but he don't like bein told no, not here in Griply in front of the whole town. He just about ripped that magistrate's head clean off after you was loaded into the coach. You shoulda seen it." There was fifty yards left now between the pair of them and the villagers; the waiting Earl. "But what what does this mean for me?" asked Burt. "What's going to happen to me now?" The old man didn't answer. "Harry?" He slowed for a minute and looked into Burt's eyes. "Damned if I know boy. But you're about to find out." Read the extra extended version of Lady Ann's Holiday available on Amazon For more of my stories, check out: http://transformation- stories.blogspot.co.uk/ For updates on releases, follow me on Twitter @emmafinnuk And read my transformation novels on Amazon or Kobo by searching for Emma Finn