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

Chapter Thirty Six Swapping Back 1 Burt Harper had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up next morning in Mavis's bed at the Dog & Pony. It wasn't because he was thinking about anything in particular that was troubling him but more like... more like he'd had a night crammed with nightmares that he couldn't now remember. He lay for a while, trying to piece the images he still had together but he couldn't. All he had was a vague sense of alarm; an amorphous anxiety tickling away at him - a sense of terrible loss. He sat up. Mavis was already awake, sitting at her shabby dressing table in the nude, brushing her hair. "Eh up Burt," she said, seeing him in the glass. "Are ye right?" "I suppose," said Burt, scratching his arm. "I didn't sleep well." It felt akin to when he'd come out of the two day period when he'd forgotten his original identity entirely, though not as intense. The panic he had felt then like an earthquake was now only rumbling beneath his skin, but it was still there. He had enjoyed his day of labour yesterday, running round doing jobs for his former self and her arrogant fianc?. When he'd been at the pub last night he'd wanted more of the same today. But was that right? Should he be feeling that way? The more he thought about it, the more he felt sure his nightmares had been about that: a constricting trap that tightened its grip the more he tried to pull away; rash decisions leading to a lifetime of regret. Since this uncanny journey had begun he had found a huge part of him loving his descent into servile manhood while the other part resisted. As time had gone on, the resistance had ebbed, primarily in acceptance of the limit to his ability to choose when to change back. He had made himself believe that this life was what he wanted, but what if he could change back now? What if this was his only chance and he was squandering it? He couldn't be sure how much his thinking had been altered. Did he keep enjoying this life because it was genuinely better? Or was it simply that his brain had been changed so much that he had been tricked into thinking that way? To put it another way, if he did change back into Lady Ann then would he think he had made a mistake, or would his altered thinking suddenly make him realise how foolish he had been to want a servant's life? He looked back at Mavis. "Ey lass... Do you ever wish your life was different?" "Well course I chuffin do," she said, almost sneering at him. "Do ye think I'd want to be a barmaid in Griply if I ad the choice?" Burt shrugged. "Well course not," she said. "If I ad money I'd be out've ere in the blink of an eye, I could guarantee ye that. I'd get me a right posh manor and live the high life." "You ain't appy ere?" "Lord no. I 'ate it. I 'ate everythin about this place." Burt frowned. "What about me?" Mavis laughed. "No offence luv, but if I ad the wherewithal to get out've this shit'ole then I'd find me a right proper gen'leman. I wouldn't be seen dead with the likes of you." "Eh?" "You can wipe that hangdog expression off ye face an' all. Ye needn't worry. I know you're the best I'm likely to get round ere." "Oh," replied Burt, feeling rather put out. "I got me job as groom back up at 'all ye know." "Aye. But I still wouldn't say no if an 'andsome prince were offerin." She threw her head back, laughing, but Burt just sat, pouting slightly. He still had that sense of constricting horror but now it felt rather worse. 2 Exactly one month to the day after the original trade of bodies, minds and destinies, Lady Ann Neville sat at breakfast, stealing little glances up the table at her only recently inherited father. Aunt Geraldine and Uncle Patrick were heatedly debating the merits of Gustav Klimt's rather perverse art while their children prattled; completely unaware that nobody was listening to them. Ann looked at her father, with his silver handlebar moustache and bald head, thinking back to the near-disaster the night before. What would it have been like to trade places with him of all people: her father - her former employer? She imagined being such a big broad-chested man, sliding her hand back across the smooth skin on top of her head. She shuddered to consider it. He presumably was happy with the way he looked and acted. If she had become him, would she grow to feel the same way, just as she had when she became a woman? It was hard now to imagine feeling any other way than she did, but she supposed it might well affect her in that manner. Would it have influenced her right away or would they both have swapped back quickly? If she had remained in his body, would she have become as proud and pompous as him? She shook her head, smiling to herself at the preposterous idea. She really couldn't imagine a worse fate. Richard was reading the newspaper. Ann turned her attention to him, asking herself the same question. What would it be like to swap places with a gentleman? After all, she had wanted to be a man again. Surely a rich lord would be a better persona to assume than a lowly stable hand... But the idea of that seemed even more repellent for some reason; she wasn't sure why. He seemed so stern, concentrating on the paper like that. The idea of acting like that herself seemed such a waste of a life. Even Burt, with his simple and free promiscuity had more going for him. The Earl scraped his chair back, standing up. "I ought to be going if I hope to catch the morning train." "Off to get your telling off Howard?" asked Uncle Patrick, chuckling. The Earl huffed. "You can call it what you like Patrick," he said, "but I'll tell you one thing. When I come back there's going to be hell to pay and one of my daughters is going to be the one paying it." He glared darkly at Hattie's pouting face and then marched to the door and left. Hattie glared down at her plate sullenly. "Oh do sit up straight dear," snapped the Countess. Ann couldn't help but smirk. 3 When Burt arrived at the hall he was a little out of breath and a good five minutes late for starting work. Harry was in the stable doorway, looking like Mephistopheles. "Well where the devil ave you been you ugly little tyke, eh?" "Sorry sir," replied Burt. "Get in that stable and get to work! Thanks to that posh lady of yours we're a man down an all I've got to help me is you of all people!" "Sorry sir." "Go on!" Harry followed him into the stable. "Get your shovel! Start clearin up the shit! I'm sick o you draggin your feet around ere!" "Sorry sir. Sorry," whimpered Burt, getting to work as quickly as he could. "Then get that 'orse of hers ready! She's bound to want to take it out today." "Yes sir. Right away sir." Burt set the shovel down. "Not now you idiot! When you've finished clearing the place!" "Sorry sir. Yes sir." Burt went back to clearing the horse dung up feeling bewildered and thoroughly cowed. Harry stormed outside leaving Burt to get on with it and he immediately knuckled down, working as hard as he could. Now he was alone, the after-effect of his nightmare came back to him; the conversation with Mavis. He'd gone on thinking about it on the way up from the village and he was becoming sure now. He couldn't trust any imperative he had to want to be a servant. He was kidding himself, surely. He had to at least ask her ladyship about the swap. If he never asked and then missed his chance forever he might regret it for the rest of his life. Yes. He had to ask her and see what she said. He knew that two weeks earlier he had been desperate to go back to his old life. He had to trust in that. 4 Burt didn't see Lady Ann until three more hours had passed, during which time he cleared up the horse dung, groomed the horses and fed the animals. With summer on its way it was a hotter day than usual and he was sweating profusely. While he worked his mind wandered over a variety of subjects, from the sexual antics he and Mavis had got up to the night before to a general enjoyment of using his strength to work hard, to a continuing dread that every minute he spent in this body made him less likely to get his old one back. It wasn't that the magic was still working on his mind; it was that it had already done its job. He was who he was. Turning into another person - especially a woman - just seemed unnatural and weird. When he came back round to the front from the pig pen he saw Lady Ann approaching wearing her riding gear. He came to a nervous stop. This was it: the moment when he would broach the subject; see what her intentions were regarding exchanging forms. "Burt. There you are," she said. "Bring my horse out. I'm going riding." "Er... If'n I might ave a word first m'lady..." "Now Burt! I don't have all day to waste." Burt paled. "Yes miss. I'll just be a moment." He went inside and dumped the pig's food then rushed to get Rosebud, wondering what the best way to approach her ladyship would be regarding the pendant. He came out dawdling, still trying to think, and Ann was quietly seething, arms folded, foot tapping. "You took long enough." She walked round. "Help me up." "But miss, I was wonderin if--" "Help me up. Now!" He hurried to do so, eager to please her ladyship and not wishing to get shouted at more than he already was. When she was in position, Lady Ann smiled down at him demurely. "Why thank you Burt. I don't know how I would manage without you here to serve me." Burt grinned, his ears growing warm. "It's me pleasure miss." "Well then get out of my way," said Ann, turning snappish again instantly and enjoying the look of alarm on his face as he flapped backwards. "Hang on miss," he said, stepping forward. "I wanted to ask ye somethin." But Ann spurred on the horse and rode it up the drive and away, leaving Burt once more uncertain and perplexed. 5 Ann enjoyed her ride and the Yorkshire countryside, trotting up to Griply Mount where the trees from Mossgrove Forest crowded up and looking down over the grass side into the valley and the village. The houses lay higgledy-piggledy between the lane and the river and the water glittered between the two bridges. The spire of the church cast a shadow onto the green that pointed directly at the village hall. She could see all the way down the valley to its narrow end where the road and river cut through the hillside, almost touching one another. Rising from the ridge of the next valley were plumes of smoke from the mine workings of Blacklake. It was business as usual there, even if her Uncle Patrick was away. She doubted he spent much of his time overseeing the work directly anyway. And why should he have to? He would have plenty of employees to do that for him. Ann mused about her interactions with Burt, giggling to herself to recall his ingratiating manner and perturbation at her churlish put-downs. She wasn't really sure why she kept doing it, only that it came naturally. She hadn't become a duplicate of the original Lady Ann in every way - she was nowhere near as generally petulant - but it seemed she still instinctively treated Burt in that manner. A part of her knew that it wasn't right but she enjoyed it so much. Why was that? To teach him a lesson for the way he'd treated her in the old days? Because it made her feel better about herself to belittle someone else? Or because it was a game somehow that she felt deep down that he enjoyed playing as well...? In her former life, as Burt, she had certainly gained a thrill from those interactions. "Hmmm." She turned the horse and headed home the long way round, enjoying the ride for as long as she could, arriving shortly before lunch. Burt wasn't at the stables but Harry was. He took in the horse but she said little to him. Ann ate lunch with the family and then sat in her room, reading Wuthering Heights. She grew tired of it after half an hour or so and wandered the house, wondering what to do. It was very different here in Griply than it had been in London - especially now that the novelty of being home as an important lady was wearing off. Eventually she gravitated to the lounge where the ladies and children were. Hattie sat in the corner with a book, still sulking. Reggie and Felicity were cross-legged on the rug, quiet for a change, playing with a toy train. The Countess and Aunt Geraldine were on the sofa, sewing. "I'm bored," said Ann. "What is there to do?" "Join us in here," said the Countess. "You can work on the embroidery you left behind when you went to visit your grandmamma." Ann frowned, sneered and pouted at the same time. "No thank you." "There's nothing else for you to do. I think staying in the capital for so long may have spoiled you. This is what life is like Ann. You can't stay on holiday forever. Sit here with your aunt and me and regale us with stories of your travels. I'm sure Aunt Geraldine would love to hear about your trip in a motor car." "Oh yes Ann, do, please. I hear tell that those new-fangled monstrosities go at truly unnatural speeds nowadays. Is it true they can sometimes reach as fast as forty miles per hour?" "I'd rather not if that's alright." "Then sit down and listen to your aunt," said the Countess. "She was just telling us all about her plans to organize the ladies of her parish to produce an enormous flower arrangement for the Easter service." Ann shuffled, unable to imagine a more tedious conversation. "Ann; sit," said the Countess. "You're an engaged woman now. This is exactly the sort of thing you will be doing every day when you're married and it's high time you learned to settle into polite conversation." Ann sat dejectedly and tried unsuccessfully to make excuses when the Countess sent for her embroidery. For the next four hours she picked at the blasted thing while her brain slowly turned to sludge under the unending prattle of her aunt and mother. She was actually relieved when Reggie threw a temper tantrum because his sister wouldn't let him do what he wanted with the toy train - just because the unending tedium was broken. While Aunt Geraldine chastised the little boy she slipped over to the window and looked out, wondering what Burt was up to now. This was only one incident. Surely it wasn't incitement enough to want to swap lives with someone else; but Ann had the awful fear that the Countess was right. A life of leisure sounded wonderful to those who had to work but did she really only have more of this to look forward to: long, dreary, empty hours filled only with pointless chatter and needlepoint? She didn't remember everything about her former life really but she remembered the pride she'd had in her job; the understanding of how important the tasks were that filled her time, simple though they were. Were those better days; really? Was every assumption wrong? Was it better to be poor and hard-working than rich with an empty pointless life? She didn't know the answer. 6 Burt carried two sacks of grain down from the barn and dumped them at the stable. Harry was carrying a third but he struggled slowly behind Burt, dropping it down with difficulty. "Well you are a strong one Burt me bucko," said Harry. "There ain't no two ways about that." Burt beamed proudly. "It's just a shame you're such a dimwit, eh?" The old man laughed and Burt's face fell. He slunk off, wishing there wasn't the bitter side to the sweet aspects of his life. There was so much good about being a big strong working man. Why did there always have to be someone to put him squarely in his place, rub into him just how pathetic he truly was. If he'd been a rich man then he could have been just as humble and down to earth as he'd have liked. People thought they could push him around because he was only a servant; and they were right. He would never have respect; not really. He would always be looked down upon. As long as he was Burt. He sat on a tree stump at the side of the path and ran his hands into his short hair under his cap, asking a question of himself that Lady Ann had asked herself almost two weeks earlier. What did he want? Really? What did he want from this life of his? He knew his former life as Ann had been wealthy and cultured, but had he been happy? He didn't have all his old memories, but those he did have were pure feeling. The memories were made of anger and frustration; disappointment; boredom. That was the real truth. He no longer recalled in detail the reasoning behind his wanting to swap places with the original Burt but there remained a poignant sense of desperation; of escape. Was he ever really happy as a woman? But would he ever be happy as a man? As a servant? He remembered the fantasy where he used the pendant somehow to become a salt-of-the-earth toff; where Lady Ann was his slutty lower class mistress... If only that were possible. But it wasn't. There were only two choices here. Become Lady Ann again - if she'd let him, or stay a servant forever. He closed his eyes. And then opened them again as a third possibility entered his mind. There was another way; something incredibly unlikely but still worth pursuing with all his heart: something he did want more than anything. Yes. That was what he was going to do. He was going to find Lady Ann and he was going to tell her how he felt. He would ask her for a kiss, at last, after all the years that he and the former Burt had yearned for it. Surely she would reject him but if there was the slightest chance he had to try his hardest. That was the most important thing he'd ever desired. It was decided. He would ask for a kiss and in return he would promise his devotion to her for all the rest of his life. And if she said no... If she said no then he would demand she return his body to him immediately! 7 Still feeling rather despondent, Ann wandered the big empty house, continuing to reflect on the Countess's words. It felt like a prison sentence in its way. All this wealth and she was still trapped in a flaccid and pointless existence. She ought to get back to planning her wedding. That gave the promise of structure and a worthwhile goal, though she wondered about the emptiness beyond it with Richard working constantly and her stuck alone in his ancestral home, Crackshaw, knowing no one locally and standing lonely and aloof above a sea of blank-faced servants. She needed reassurance and so she went to the one man who could give it; the man who very soon would dominate her life. Richard was ensconced in the Earl's study, going over more papers; reports that he'd had sent here from Nockton Vale by his business manager. "Ah Ann. I was wondering what had happened to you." He gave her a perfunctory smile. "I think we shall go to Crackshaw the day after tomorrow. There was a letter from my mother among these papers. She's looking forward to meeting you." Ann opened her mouth and then closed it again, realising dully that she had been given no choice in the matter. She wondered what would happen if she disagreed... but chose not to. She didn't think she could face a power struggle when she was already feeling fragile. "I think you and she will get along splendidly, as long as you know your place." "My... place?" "Of course. She is mistress of Crackshaw and always will be. As long as you understand that then you will both get along famously." "Oh." Ann frowned, looking away. "But... I assumed that as your wife..." "Yes?" She flushed. "It sounds silly, but... I assumed that I would be in charge of the household." Richard lowered his head, smiling with taut cheeks, his eyes showing only ill humour. "Perhaps this would be an appropriate time to lay out a few principles Ann my dear. I wouldn't want you to enter into a contract, matrimonial or otherwise, without first understanding your rights and responsibilities." He smiled again and smoothed his voice out, almost as though speaking to a child. "As my wife, you will appear as hostess at business dinners. This is your primary function. You don't need to plan or arrange the dinners - my mother is more than capable of doing that. All you will need to do is look attractive; as I can assure you, you always do; and talk amicably to the wives of my business partners. You are a very charming woman on the whole and with a bit of polishing I am sure you will be more than capable of fulfilling that role." There was a long pause. "I see," replied Ann. "I hadn't entirely understood before now." "In return for this service, you will become accustomed to riches beyond even the dreams of your good father, and you will continue to enjoy them, under the protective wing of my mother, while I travel on my many and varied business dealings." Ann let her hands fall to her sides. She said nothing. "It will be a wonderful life for a woman of leisure I can assure you," said Richard. Ann's hands closed into fists. She shut her eyes tightly then she relaxed her eyelids but didn't open them immediately. When they did fall open the question found her lips that seemed so elegant in its simplicity. A test. A question that would verify this man's intentions, or at least offer some measure of hope. When she spoke, her voice was deeper; saturated with air. "Will you kiss me Richard?" He looked up at her. All he had to do was to say yes and she would follow him anywhere. She would trust in him and this life he had already precisely mapped out. Just one kiss. That was all she needed. Richard looked down at his papers, scanning left to right. He looked back up at her. He gave another almost mechanical smile, but then his cheeks softened and his eyes with them, and he said, "Of course darling. I love you more than anything on this Earth. Of course I will kiss you." Moisture came to Ann's eyes and a smile of relief curled her lips. She stepped close to him, lowering her head. Her eyes slipped closed. Richard's hand touched her cheek. They came together, her lips touching his. It was going to be alright. She knew that now. All her life lay out before her with this rich and wonderful man. All she had to do was trust in him; and surely she could. He was her fianc?. Then the kiss ended; less than a second after it had begun. Ann remained there at his face but her eyes came open and she realised that his had never closed. They remained there like that, almost as though a second kiss would come and for a moment, Ann thought that it might; that all this might be saved after all. But instead, Richard's cheeks became taut again, followed by that tight- lipped smile and he said. "I am working Ann dear. I wonder if we could discuss this further another day." She didn't move. She couldn't. "Yes Richard. You're right. Of course." She straightened, checking her clothes were straight. "I apologise for disturbing you. I must learn to respect your privacy when you're working." "Yes." Another perfunctory smile. "I won't do it again," she replied. And then she left. 8 Ann crossed the hall to the stairs and ascended. She made her way quietly to her bed chamber and went in, closing the door behind her. She went to the dresser and took out the box with the little lock. She took the key from around her neck and unlocked it, then she removed the pendant. She lifted it by the chain so it dangled in front of her. She scrutinised it, thinking about Richard's kiss, then she opened out the chain and lifted it over her head, letting it fall into place against her chest. She walked to the tall mirror on the wall and looked at herself. She ran her slim fingers down her smooth arms and cupped her lovely face in her palms then she fingered her lovely soft hair. She was an elegant beauty. A trapped and cosseted beauty forced to live the life that others chose for her! But no more. There was a way she could take control of her life and she was going to do it at last. She was going to make one last choice that would propel her into a life with an entirely different set of restrictions but a vast array of freedom besides. She steeled herself then went to the door and opened it, walked out into the corridor and closed it behind her. Ann marched to the top of the stairs and started down, becoming more and more sure of herself with every step. She had known what she had to do when she lay on the floor of her cell during her abduction. She had allowed herself to become distracted. She'd known what she had to do for the first three weeks of her "holiday" until her own greed and petulance had tricked her into thinking otherwise. She was going to become Burt again - she was going to become a man - and she would have a different kind of happiness for the rest of her days. She passed through the hall to the east passage, heading for the side door, her footsteps cracking hard against the stone, but as she swung round the next corner she came up hard against Gladys and the maid cried out as the tray she'd been carrying tipped up in the air, spilling tea things all down her. Ann cried out too, staggering back, avoiding most of the splatter, and then all that tension and determination turned to rage. "Gladys for God's sake! Why don't you look where you're walking!? You stupid ignorant girl!" "I'm sorry m'lady." "Sorry? Sorry!? How dare you get in my way, you ignorant heifer!? How dare you!?" "I'm sorry miss. I'm so sorry." Gladys got down on her hands and knees, snatching for the broken crockery and teapot, using her skirt to mop up the spill, and Ann glared down at her, hands on her hips, absolutely furious. Then a moment of absolute stark realisation fell over her and her body became numb. She couldn't do this. Of course she couldn't. She couldn't give up her station and become a servant, far lowlier than this girl here. She couldn't become Burt. She'd been foolish to think she could, even for an instant. But that instant was enough to chill her to her heart. For if she could think it once she might think it again. How many times now had she faced adversity and thought only of fleeing into her former life? What if one of these times she really went through with it and doomed herself to the life of a servant forever? No. She had to take away the source of that temptation. She had to get rid of the pendant once and for all before anything could persuade her again. She gripped the pendant on her chest in her hand tightly, sharpening her resolve to a razor's edge. It was the only choice that made sense. Get rid of it. And she knew exactly where to do it. 9 Ann left the house without a word to anyone inside and started down toward the stable, absolutely determined. She passed down the path quickly, hoping that she wouldn't even see Burt, but as she approached the stable he came down from the left. They both halted, looking at one another, then Ann called to him. "Burt. Fetch me my horse and saddle her. I'm taking her out immediately." He faltered then tremulously said, "I was 'opin I might ave a word m'lady, if that's alright by you." "No. It isn't alright. I'm busy. Mind your station. If you wish to communicate to a member of the family you will do so through the proper channels." "But--" "Through the proper channels. You are not to address me directly. Is that clear?" He shut his mouth but stood still, staring, struggling to build up the confidence to speak. "But it's important m'lady." "No it isn't." Ann started to turn away. "It is m'lady. And I think you know why." Ann stopped. She turned back to face him. "You are a stable hand Burt Harper. I am your mistress. You will do as I say. Do you understand?" She paused. He said nothing but his eyes quivered. "Now fetch me my horse before I have you flogged." Burt didn't move. He had seen the pendant round her neck and he could tell from her expression that this was his last and only chance. He didn't know what her plans were for it but he could tell that it would rob him of his opportunity once and for all. Ann pointed toward the stable. "Get... me... my... horse." Burt stood there, hands shaking at his sides, then he lowered his head and did as he was instructed. What other choice did he have? He went into the darkened interior, only then seeing Harry inside, working at his little workbench desk, squinting at his crumpled papers. "What's that ruckus going on out there?" "Nothin," said Burt. He went through to Rosebud's stall and saddled her up. He knew that he should face her ladyship now before the chance slipped through his fingers, but there was no point fighting. He'd proved time and again that he had no strength of will to stand up to his betters. He had the heart of a servant and he always would. Looking and feeling forlorn, he led the horse outside to where Ann waited impatiently. He helped her on dutifully, wrestling with his conscience and his compunction. When he looked up at her, handing her the reins, she was looking straight into his eyes, compassion there suddenly where moments ago there had been only irritation and scorn. "This is for the best Burt," she said. "We both know that." "But m'lady..." "Hyah!" She tapped the flank of the horse and it trotted up the drive, leaving Burt once again watching her ride away. He stepped after her then halted. "I've watched you give your heart to that woman for years." Burt turned. Old Harry was leaning against the stable doorway, his expression earnest and empathic. "Yearning for her; imagining a life with her." He gave a humourless chuckle. "But she ain't never going to choose you Burt. You do know that. A gentlewoman like that wouldn't touch a man like you, or me, if a million years went by. Because she's an entirely different class. She's better than us. Or thinks she is at least. And with her money, that's enough." He fixed Burt in his gaze and spoke very quietly. "You 'ave to put her out of your mind forever my boy. Or you'll never be 'appy. You 'ave to accept what you got and just do your best to work 'ard." Burt stood quietly, then slowly nodded. Then just as slowly, he shook his head. "No 'Arry," he said. "Eh?" Burt walked to the stable and went inside. He opened the nearest stall where the Earl's stallion was kept and quickly tied a bridle round its head. "Burt? What the devil do you think you're doing with that?" He led the stallion out into the light. "I'm going after her," he said. "What? You'll do no such thing! Come away from that 'orse right now!" Burt looked back at the old man. He knew he should follow his orders - do as he was told. Every instinct screamed at him to do so. "No 'Arry. Sorry." Burt took hold of the reins and leapt up onto the stallion's bare back, sliding into place and gripping tight with his legs. "You can punish me as much as you like when I get back; I'll work all night if I ave to, to make up me time; but there's somethin that I gotta do." "Burt! Get down from there. Right now!" "Yah!" Burt slapped the rein on both sides of the stallions neck and then gave it two sharp jabs in its flank and with a loud neigh it turned and galloped up the drive after Lady Ann. 10 Ann cantered down the drive, stopping at the gate onto the fields. She reached with difficulty to open it and guided the horse through. She was doing the right thing; she was sure of that; the only thing she could do now. But when she was through, she paused, cocking her head to the side. She could hear something odd. Something... She turned, startled, recognising it, and saw her father's big stallion galloping down toward her with Burt on its back. She couldn't believe what she was seeing for a second but then she leapt into action, throwing the gate back closed and urged her horse, gripping tightly as it surged forward, speeding quickly to a canter and then to a gallop, cutting up across the fields. She looked behind her, glad the gate would slow Burt down and gaped as he spurred the stallion up to it at full speed, taking it in a mighty leap. Ann almost cried out, turning back to face front as her own horse sped on. But she knew that the stallion had the edge over Rosebud on speed. There was no way she would be able to keep ahead of it for long. "Hyah!" she cried, whipping its neck. "Hyah!" Burt was closing on her, his brow firm with determination, head down and forward. He was no more than thirty yards behind. Ann cut to the right and spurred Rosebud on, then when Burt had almost caught her, she went left suddenly, slipping between some trees as Burt and the stallion sped past the way she had seemed to be going. She leant close to the horse's neck, crying, "Hyah! Hyah!" Her destination was coming up fast. She was almost there. But Burt came from the right, speeding up toward her flank and she squealed, pressing Rosebud harder. She saw the river where the pendant had been found; the lone tree overlooking the water. She could picture the pendant at the water's edge now in her Ann-memories as though she'd really been there. And just past the point where it had caught on its root, scant feet before it would have been lost forever, she saw the weir; the churning water; the place where this was all going to end. She cantered to the edge and brought her horse to a stop, slipping off onto the grass as quickly as she could. A second after her, Burt pulled up beside it and leapt clear, coming down hard as she ran for the water's edge. Ann scrabbled at her neck, pulling at the chain, ripping the pendant off over her head as she got closer; close enough now to throw it. The water was shooting along here, accelerating for the pitch down into the furrowed weir. She thrust her hand out clutching the pendant and went to release it. "No!" She stopped, holding it still, her hand shaking, the pendant itself swinging free. "Please m'lady. Just wait for a minute and 'ear me out." Ann didn't withdraw her arm but she didn't open her hand either. She looked back at Burt as he slowly approached. "Don't come any closer! I'll drop it!" Burt lifted his hand. "I won't miss. I swear. All I want is for you to listen for a minute or two - just hear what I ave to say." She took his measure; saw the fear and nervousness in his quivering eyes, and then a calm came over her as she remembered who she was now; who he was. She straightened, lowering the pendant to her side. "You have no right to speak to me. You're only a servant. How dare you follow me here; leave your post when there's work to be done." Burt hung his head, feeling a tightening of his self-doubt and self- recrimination. She was right. He shouldn't be there. He shouldn't have taken the Earl's horse out. It was wrong of him to speak to this fine lady as though she were an equal. "Beggin yer pardon m'lady," he said, forcing the words out, "but you and I both know that things are different between you and me." Ann didn't speak. "You can play act all ye like but that don't change the fact that you used to be the servant and I... I was quality. You owe me five minutes of your time and you know ye do... if'n you don't mind that is." Ann regarded him coldly for a long while and he squirmed under her gaze. Finally she spoke. "Alright Burt. Say what you came here to say and then let that be the end of it." He girded himself then raised his eyes to hers and took a step forward. "I love ye Lady Ann. I've always loved ye. Back when you was a man, you was in love me with me too. I know it ain't right - that society as it is wouldn't want it to 'appen; but of all the people in the world, you and I is meant to be together." She shook her head, releasing a tiny sound that scratched at the word, "No." Burt took another step closer. "He don't love ye: that Lord 'Urley. He just pretends he does cause he wants a pretty ornament; that's all. He's been slitherin round ere for years on and off, after me as I used to be." "No. That isn't true." "Yes it is miss. And if you look in those memories o mine you've got, then maybes you'll see why I never said yes to im." Ann shook her head again but her eyes moistened. "He's so full of himself he was even braggin to me about the other women he's been with; them he plans to go on bein with after yer married." "Stop," snapped Ann. "You stop talking. I don't want to hear any more of your pathetic lovesick drivel." "Miss, please. I'm sorry to talk out've turn but you aveta listen." "No Burt; I do not have to do anything. I am Lady Ann Neville. Me. You are nothing to me and you have no right to speak to me this way about the man I love." She turned away to face the river, her back to him. "Please leave. I do not wish to be disturbed any longer." "He doesn't love ye m'lady. And you know it." Burt was right behind her now. "But I do. I love ye more deeply than you could ever know. I love ye inside and out. I know ow frustrated and trapped ye feel and ow much you want passion and excitement; because I used to be you. And I could give you that passion. You know that, don't ye?" He put his hands on her shoulders and though she resisted, he gently turned her round to face him. "We're perfect for one another, you and me," he said, looking down into her tear-stained face and Ann looked up into his eyes, feeling the strength and dependability; the affection streaming off him. She saw before her everything that she wanted - everything she needed - and before a voice of reason could cry to her to stop, she lifted her lips to his and kissed him. It wasn't like the kisses with Richard. This was rich and warm and surging with passion. He wrapped his big muscular arms around her and she leaned back letting him support her. Still the kiss went on and suddenly she was overcome with the urge to hold him tighter, to taste this powerful masculine man - to give herself to him entirely. This was her first real kiss as a woman and all sense of the world fell away from her as she swooned into it. Burt held her as tightly as he could, loving this consummation of his unending desire, the urge that had possessed him every moment of his life as a man, even when he hadn't realised it. He hadn't known - couldn't have - but the connection he'd shared with Mavis had been paltry compared to this torrid fervour. He wanted nothing in the world but this woman. He wanted to be nowhere more than right here with her. And then suddenly Ann prised herself free and struggled out of his arms. She pulled away, pushing her hands up to force him clear. "No! We can't!" She separated herself from him. "We can't!" She ran several paces away, her hands to her face, her back to him, her upper body heaving with her breaths. "We can't do this." "M'lady?" She glanced back at him then looked away. She pointed her eyes down into the river. "It's not right. It can't happen." Burt took a step closer again. "What can't?" "Stay away. Don't come any nearer. You know what. This. What we did. That can never ever happen again." "But miss..." "Don't speak. Nothing you can say will change this. Lady Ann Neville could never marry a stable hand. It wouldn't be right and it wouldn't be natural. We both know it. It doesn't matter which one of us is which. If you were still Ann then it would be just as true." "Aye." Burt hung his head. "I suppose yer right." Ann looked back at him with tears in her eyes. She wanted him; she did want him; but it would be impossible. And no matter how much she might desire his virile masculinity and his passion, they could never truly be a match. "It ain't about you bein posher than me," said Burt. "We're just too different. I know that now. You couldn't get pissed down't Dog & Pony or watch a boxin match." "And you couldn't discuss the finer points of Shakespeare or politics over a glass of wine." They stood silently, regarding one another. "Well..." said Burt. "Yes. Well." Ann looked out across the weir again. "I'll ave me body back then if'n ye don't mind." She froze, staring. "Did you 'ear me?" asked Burt. "I said we can change back now if it's all the same to you." 11 Ann didn't move. She couldn't. The pendant was in her tightly wrapped palm. Her arms were folded. Burt stood several feet behind her. "I don't like to ask," he said, "you bein quality an all, but you got a life wot belongs to me. You stole it off me; an if you don't think I'm good enough for ye to marry then I reckon maybe you should just swap back like ye promised a month ago." Ann didn't turn to look at him. She couldn't. She knew he was right. She knew she should do as he asked; but even though she had wanted it; now she was at the moment, she couldn't bear the idea of sinking into that dirty flesh again; of becoming a thick-witted clodhopper of low birth and low standards. And she knew he could force it on her, snatch the pendant from her hand and put it on; press her into an embrace. He towered over her in his broad muscular frame. She was no physical match for him in any way. She turned her body to face him, trembling slightly. He was tall and strong but she saw now the doubt and trepidation in his eyes, the show of will it was clearly taking from him to demand anything of one of his betters. She knew that God had given that body to him; that she had taken it over a ruin of broken promises; but she couldn't entertain the thought of being that man again for even a moment. Yes, he had every right to want this flesh back and she had every responsibility to give it him, but that reckoning didn't encompass the fact that for now she was still Lady Ann - and Lady Ann Neville cared not one wit for the rights of a feeble-minded servant. Lady Ann Neville was the epitome of superior arrogance and upper class aloofness. This peasant could demand whatever he wanted. That didn't mean he was going to get it. She raised her chin and said, "No." "Eh?" "You heard me. You have no right to request anything of me. Any agreement we might have once made is meaningless if I choose to renegotiate it. You are nothing but a servant. I am Lady Ann Neville. If I choose to remain in this form for the rest of my days then you will follow my decree obediently and gladly. Is that clear?" Burt quailed, his confidence withering before her regal pomposity. "Yes m'lady. Of course." "I am frankly flabbergasted that you would have the audacity to make demands of me." "Yes miss. I'm sorry miss." "Stop snivelling!" Burt clamped his mouth shut. "You may have been a different person once upon a time but that is no longer the case. I am Lady Ann now in every way that matters and you are very clearly Burt Harper." "But miss..." "You look like Burt Harper don't you?" He stared into space, refusing to respond, then slowly nodded, feeling awkward ignoring her question. "And you talk like Burt Harper. Isn't that right?" "Aye," he replied reluctantly. "That I do." "You do Burt's job don't you? Mucking out the stables and all the labour?" The burly man nodded. "You sleep on a pallet in the hay barn? You have your... wicked way with that strumpet from the pub down the road? You spend your nights drinking and fighting with your dirty labourer friends?" He stared off again. "And you do as you're told when your betters command it." She paused. "Don't you!" she snapped. Burt nodded his head forlornly. "Well then," said Lady Ann. "That settles it. You may not like it but you have to agree that you are Burt Harper. Aren't you?" "Yes." "Yes what?" "Yes m'lady." "And you always will be. And if you are Burt then I am your mistress in name and status. It is I, not you, who will make any decision regarding this or any other matter." "Yes miss." "I do not wish to ever be approached about this subject again. Do you understand?" "Yes m'lady." "You will accept your station permanently. You will put it out of your mind that things were ever any different." "Yes miss. I'm sorry miss." "Good." She glared at him until he lowered his eyes and just for a moment, sorrow played across her face. She almost opened her mouth to change her mind or at least part on kind words, but the cold and vindictive side of her wouldn't allow it. It was entirely unfair but the sad truth of the matter was that the original Lady Ann had been a cruel and ruthless woman. She was as constrained within that persona as Burt was in his. "I will take both horses back," she said curtly. "I'll overlook your indiscretion at taking my father's horse out." "Thank you m'lady. I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to think I 'ad a right to borrow it." She walked back to the horses and took the rein of the stallion, leading it back to Rosebud. "Well help me up then you stupid little man." Burt hurried over and did his best to do so. Ann climbed into position then she looked down at him. "You will never mention this again. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes miss." "You will be Burt Harper until the day you die." "Yes m'lady." "And I will be Lady Ann." She spurred her horse and broke away, leading the stallion behind her, with Burt looking forlornly on from the riverbank. 12 Burt was crestfallen but he knew he couldn't have expected better. He'd known for well over a week now that her ladyship was planning to keep his former life. He didn't know really why he'd challenged her on it. There was never any chance that she would choose a servant's life over her own existence of wealth and beauty. He pulled his cap down further on his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started walking back to the hall, knowing that he was sure to be punished by Harry for taking out the stallion and worried that he might even lose his job. His job. It really was his job now and it always would be. The confrontation had come and gone. Her ladyship had the power and always would. He, by contrast, was powerless. The only thing he had to look forward to now was seeing Mavis later that evening, but even that seemed an empty promise. He and the former Burt had adored Lady Ann from afar for years and years and now, finally, he had kissed her. And that kiss had been everything to him. It had been the best moment of either life; the most perfect sensation he'd ever felt. His days could only ever be empty with the lack of it. But what could he expect? He was just a servant. He was lucky he'd even had that. He came toward the edge of the field where the gate was and raised his head, then paused. He stopped, confused. Then he frowned. Lady Ann was waiting at the gate on foot. Both horses stood beside her and her face was calm and sad. He didn't know what to do at first but all he could do was go on walking. He drew closer and closer to her and she went on watching him, smiling a little, until he stopped only a few feet away. That was when he saw the pendant hanging from her neck, the swirling grooves along its surface glistening. "I've changed my mind Burt," she said. She smiled, tears brimming in her eyes. "It was the former Ann who let her vindictiveness control her thinking. That isn't who I am if I ever was. Come." She raised her arms. "Embrace me. Become again who you are meant to be. Become Lady Ann and let me turn into Burt." He stepped closer. And again. He looked down at the pendant and then up into her dewy eyes. She looked so beautiful and at peace; resigned to the destiny she was willing to take on once more. He took another step closer. And then he shook his head. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, "That's alright m'lady. I'm... I'm grateful for the offer; but I'm 'appy bein a working man. I know that now." He thought for a moment. "I didn't know for sure until this second but I couldn't never go back to bein a lady. I love being a bloke too much. I don't wanna go back to me old life. I want to be Burt forever." "What?" "I ain't cut out to be quality," he said. "All that thinkin and culture and decision makin... It makes me 'ead sore to think about it." He chuckled. "I'm just appy bein told what to do and getting on an' doin it; maybes headin down't pub after for a few bevvies; 'avin me way with some lass. That's what life's all about." "Really Burt? Are you sure that's what you want?" She touched his sleeve tenderly. He asked himself that. Was it, really? Did he want to be a servant; to be ordered around and told what to do; to work hard all day and have precious little cash to show for it? "Aye," he said. "I'm more th'n 'appy to stay like this and you're welcome to remain as ye are. I wouldn't know what to do with meself as a lady. I'm far too used to being a man now an I like it. I wouldn't never want to be nothin else. And there's the matter of the oath I made to 'im wot pays me wages, the Earl. I gave 'im me word as a man that I'd never give up me responsibilities as 'is servant willingly and a man's word is sacred. Me old da taught me that and I ain't never broken mine." "You'd hold to a vow you made to be a good servant, even with a life of riches within your reach?" "Aye miss. O'course. Me word as a man means an eck of a lot more to me than money and a bunch of frilly dresses." Ann looked at him, feeling bewildered, not comprehending what could make him want to choose servility over wealth; but he did look content. He had looked content really ever since she had come back. She wondered whether he might even be getting the better deal. "You're a good man Burt," she whispered. "A good, strong, hard-working man. You should be proud of yourself." He smiled broadly. "Thank you m'lady. That means a lot comin from you." She went to touch his cheek, but held her hand an inch away then lowered it back down to her thigh. "I shan't... I shan't be ungenerous. You shouldn't have to pay the price for this. You shouldn't have to live in poverty. I'll see to it that your wages are doubled. You won't have to go without." "That's right generous of you I'm sure m'lady," said Burt. He paused in deep thought for a moment. "But I'll ave to say no I'm afraid." "What?" "It's right temptin and no mistake, but... well, it wouldn't be right for me to get more than I've earned. It wouldn't be proper. And it wouldn't be fair on old 'Arry and the other servants. I does me a man's work and I gets a man's pay at the end of it. That's good enough for me." Ann didn't know what to say. "Alright Burt. If you're sure." "I am at that m'lady. I'm just sorry I embarrassed ye by bringin it up. You was right when you said I shouldn't be talkin to you directly. It won't 'appen again I promise ye." He tipped his cap and stepped back, and just like that, the conversation was over. "Might I elp ye get these 'orses back oop to the 'all m'lady?" Still feeling disarmed, Ann nodded and allowed Burt to take the rein of the stallion. He opened the gate and led it through and without another word she followed him. 13 By the time they reached the stable there was no longer any connection between them that Ann could sense. The fact that Burt had once been another person was completely unnoticeable. He was just a servant like any other, who seemed even to have given up on his infatuation for her. He was just a working class Yorkshireman with no breeding beyond what he needed to remain servile to his betters. He made no eye contact on the walk back and gave only a deferential doff of his cap as he took up Rosebud's rein and led the horses inside and out of sight. Harry was present, waiting for their return, presumably to chastise Burt for riding the horse, but when he saw Ann he restrained himself, presuming perhaps that she had already done it. Ann stood for a moment, watching, as Burt put away her father's stallion then take Rosebud toward her stall, smiling contentedly. He seemed happy... in a way she hadn't been when she was a man. It occurred to her that this entire series of events might have been set in motion by some higher power to rebalance things: to take a frustrated and bitter young woman with no purpose and give her a different life where she was a simple but useful enough soul, doing her duty proudly every day. Though if that were the case, what resolution did she have? She still felt confused and slightly unhappy. She didn't feel as though she had found her happy ending. Though perhaps her story wasn't yet over... Ann sighed, turning her back on the little world of the stable and on Burt as he continued to work hard and she walked alone back up to the house. Please leave a review! 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