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Tabitha was sitting in her carved wooden rocking chair by her window, looking in the direction of the front gate. In all honesty, her gaze was to the horizon to where she knew the cooperage to be. It seemed a little folly that she had continued her vigil for so long. Some would say that two months is hardly long, but if they knew that she was engaged to be wed to Lord David Somerset, Duke of Beauport, of the house of Lancaster, then they would be seriously wondering why she would pine for someone else. Why she would pine for anyone else would be perplexing for that matter. Yet, she had been discreet in her vigil, and there was nothing wrong with looking to the front gate, and that is what she would tell those who asked. She was to blow out her candle when she saw a dim light in the direction of the cooperage. At first she dismissed it, thinking that she was imagining things. After waiting for two months to see any flicker of light in that direction, she would be foolish to get her hopes up now. But the light persisted, and she allowed herself to believe that it was Peter must have decided to come visit after all! After all this time, she had finally seen the lantern shine from the top of the cooperage. She took her hand mirror and placed it behind the candle sitting on the window sill. The candle had been replaced every day, but there was still a vast amount of wax that had been burned through tonight. Holding the mirror with both hands, she angled the mirror such that the light passed over a number of rooftops as well as the cooperage. Tabitha panned back and forth three times, now more hopeful than ever that she would see Peter soon. Tabitha rang her bell to summon her person maid. If only it was this easy to summon Peter, she thought to herself, then banished the idea. She didn't want to have Peter as her personal maid, though she hadn't given much thought to whom she would select as her Lady's Maid. She was going to be wed soon, and she would require a Lady's Maid to handle her affairs. With all the royal outings she was sure to attend, she would require someone who is very well versed in millinery as well as dressmaking and corsetry. Peter is familiar with barrels and coopering, not the affairs of a lady. She was stopped mid thought when her maid entered her room. "You called for me, Miss?" "Yes, Emily," Tabitha shook her head to right her mind, "I'll be having a guest arrive soon, please see to it that I'm not disturbed." "Will you be meeting your guest in your room, Miss?" Tabitha now realized this might be obtrusive to the household should she entertain a guest in her room, especially someone that the staff might recognize. Yet, the staff of the Fairfax household knew better than to pry into these circumstances, and so she figured that having Peter in her room would pose no problem. "Yes, I will be meeting with my guest in my chambers. Would you bring another chair in?" The maid curtsied and left. After a few moments, she returned with a chair, and placed it next to the table where there was a sitting chair placed for Tabitha already. "Shall I bring tea for you and your guest, MIss?" "Do please, Emily," Tabitha was not sure how long Peter would stay. Long enough for a cup of tea she should think, but they would have to see how things progressed. It was getting into the later hours, but a spot of tea would be appropriate for the company. Harrison was next to arrive. He took a step into her room, and quietly announced, "Mr. Peter Cooper." He then stood aside to allow Peter to enter the room. Peter's manner of apparel seemed rather odd. It almost looked like his hair had been dipped in a rain barrel in an attempt to slick it's moderate tangles, or perhaps that was just his method of washing his hair to be presentable before her. He had also cleaned his cooperage boots best he could, but she could see marks of ash where the fire from the steam had touched the leather. She could smell a bit of burnt fabric, and she wondered if he had tried to iron the shirt he was wearing. It wasn't quite as wrinkled as the shirt he usually wore, but the steam from the cooperage usually took care of all wrinkles in clothing, and she was even further curious to see just how much preparation Peter had done for this appointment. "Hello, I mean, good evening, Miss Fairfax," Peter managed to sputter out. He was visibly shaking, as if the next words he said or heard might shatter his sense of control. Tabitha searched through her mind for the most appropriate thing to say, and she tried to speak eloquently, as she had been taught so very carefully, but her words seem to sputter out too. "Greetings, or rather hello, no you had it right, Good Evening." She blushed at her display. "I'm sorry, I'm not making fun of you, I'm just nervous as well." "Well, that makes two of us," Peter said, a little quicker than he would have liked to. "Why are we like this?" Tabitha asked after a moment of silence had passed. "In the street, we seem to chatter on like a couple of mockingbirds, but now it's just like pressing olives to get any thoughts to transfer into coherent speech." Peter pondered this for a moment, perhaps too long, but came up with a decent answer, "We are not in the street." Tabitha looked around for a moment. Simple enough, but very true. They had always met in the street, and she had always been in proper street attire. Now, they were alone, and in her chambers, no less. "I don't know why, but I would almost think that there should be someone with us right now." And with those words, there was a loud knock at the door. Both Peter and Tabitha were frozen in shock for what to do. It couldn't be a servant, or else they would have knocked gently, waiting for Tabitha to answer. This knock sounded impatient and abrasive. "Who is it?" Tabitha said meekly, hoping it would calm whoever was on the other side of the door. Her father's voice came from behind the door, "Tabitha, open this door, immediately!" Colour drained from Peter's face as he sensed he was in a situation to which there was little probability of escape. "What do we do?" he mouthed. "We?" Tabitha whispered sharply. "I am going to have to open the door! You are going to have to hide!" "Where?" Peter whispered desperately. "Anywhere! Under the bed, under a chair, in the clothes room..." "Tabitha!" shouted Lord Fairfax. "Why hasn't he opened the door himself?" Tabitha wondered aloud. "Oh, you'll need this," Peter said as he placed the key to her room into her hand. "How did you..." Tabitha started. "I'd open that door!" Peter said hurriedly as the knocking on the door continued. Tabitha slipped the key into the lock, while Peter slipped into her clothes room, and with a click Peter was hid from sight and Tabitha unlocked her door. The door flew open and Lord Somerset stormed into her chambers. "Where is he?" He looked under the bed. "Where is he?" "Where is who, father?" Tabitha asked trying to calm her father. "I was told by my manservant that you allowed a young man into your room just moments ago. And he was not a suitor!" Lord Fairfax looked up the chimney of her fireplace. When his face came back into view it didn't look any redder than before, though there was a warm fire burning. "Well, I would think that your manservant is mistaken," Tabitha said in the most matter-of-fact voice she could muster, but it came out with the wrong intonation of attitude and sounded accusatory. "You doubt the honesty of my manservant?" Lord Fairfax walked up to his daughter close enough that Tabitha could feel the heat of his anger radiating off of him. Tabitha chose her words carefully. "Not the honest, but the accuracy." "Oh?" Lord Fairfax started to calm ever so slightly. "I do have a late guest, it is true, but it is not a young man." "Are you saying you have a young woman as a guest?" "A friend from my classes, yes," Tabitha was hoping that Peter would figure out what she was trying to do. "And I have never met this young lady before?" Lord Fairfax's anger was slowly giving was to incredulity. Tabitha could work with that. "I don't believe so, father. Though I have met with her a numerous amount of times after classes, she has not come to visit with us at any time I can think of." "And just why is she here at this hour?" asked Lord Fairfax. Hoping that he would have asked that question a little later, she shook her head as if it was a silly question to give herself another moment to think of an answer. "Well?" "Father, I was just engaged a few weeks ago! Why wouldn't my friends want to come an visit and discuss the rapture that comes with the events of being wed?" Tabitha smiled to show the sincerity of her answer, and hoped that it would be enough to allow her father to leave. "Very well, Tabitha," said Lord Fairfax, "But before I leave you for the night, might I meet this friend of yours?" "Well, I shall have to check," Tabitha said. "Excuse me?" Lord Fairfax asked with a deign of surprise, "Why would you need to 'check'?" "Since I'm going to be wed and will be leaving, I will be getting a whole new clothes room, and my friend wanted to see if there were any pieces that would be suitable for her." Tabitha made her way over to the door of the clothes room. "A question, daughter," said Lord Fairfax, as he followed her to the clothes room door, "You don't seem to be that close to your friend since you keep referring to her as 'your friend' rather than using her name. You do know her name?" No even letting that question sit in the air, Tabitha quickly replied, "Father, I would know Anabelle anywhere. Isn't that right, Anabelle?" A moderately squeaky voice came from behind the clothes room door, "That's right, Tabitha!" Tabitha had to control her laugh at Peter's struggle to make his voice sound different, and her father's incredulity started to rise. "Is there something the matter with Anabelle's voice?" "She did ask for extra lemon in her tea, she might have a bit of a cold. Anabelle, are you alright dear?" Peter's squeaky voice replied, "Yes, in fact I have some attire that I found that looks quite nice, could you have someone come and help me with it?" "You'll have to excuse us father, she's not decent to be seen right now." Lord Fairfax was calm and careful as he said, "I bid you good night, daughter, but know that I'm going to be watching your room carefully. And from now on, I would have you to speak with me regarding any guests that you have entering the house." The door closed, but did not lock, as Tabitha thought it best not to lock the door immediately after her father left. She opened the door to clothes closet to find Peter with a look of disbelief on his face. "I can't believe that actually worked!" he said, walking out of the clothes room in a bit of a daze. It was a miracle that Peter had not been caught by her father, but now Tabitha was curious as to how she was going to get Peter, or rather Annabelle, out of the house. Surely her father would be looking for a female figure leaving the house, or at least have someone watching her room to ensure that her story had some sense to it. "I heard what you were talking about with your father while I was in the Clothes room," Peter said, "I must say that you were quite in genius talking like that on your feet, but now I would like to know how I'm going to get out of here." It was obvious that Peter shared the same thoughts. Thinking for a moment, Tabitha said the thing that made the most sense to her. "We simply ensure that a lady leaves the house." "Easy to say, but how are we going to accomplish that?" "I could have my maid sew you a dress perhaps?" "That would work... Wait, sorry what did you say?" Peter said with a bit of worry in his voice. "Have my maid produce a dress for you." "For me? Whatever for?" "So you will be able to leave the premises of course." "I thought you were joking with that comment!" Peter was getting to be a little exasperated by the concept of what Tabitha was proposing. "You are suggesting that I don women's clothing in order to exit this building. I would sooner think that scaling the wall from your window using tied bed sheets would be a simpler method!" Tabitha considered that for a moment. Letting Peter climb down from her window would be moderately easy, except for the issue of what would happen if someone saw him doing so. Then another thought crossed her mind, Peter could use the tree that went up by the Nursery. Surely the limbs would have grown back by now, and that would make things ever so much simpler. He could meet up with Jacob and then Jacob would be able to let him out the back door. It was almost too easy! "I think I have an idea!" Tabitha announced. Just opened her mouth to explain the plan, but stopped herself, because she saw that there was still the issue of her having a female friend leave the house. Peter just stared at her, waiting for the words to form, and this wonderful idea to pour out, but was left for naught. Tabitha closed her mouth and looked a bit bashful at what she had just done. "Well, what was your idea?" Peter ventured. "It wouldn't work," Tabitha admitted sheepishly. "As long as it doesn't involve a dress of some sort, I think I'll be able to manage." "That's just it, my idea didn't involve a dress." "You make that sound like it's a bad thing." "It IS a bad thing, because my father is going to be looking for a lady to be exiting the house when you leave. You're not a lady, or at least you don't look like one." "You're saying the only way I can leave is if I look like a lady? Why not just have me escape some way, and then make up another story? You seem to be quite apt at making stories." Tabitha tried to look at the situation from another angle. How would she be able to explain the fact that she was entertaining a lady, who was most definitely not a young man that her father had searched her room for, but still have Peter escape. "I can't think of any way that it would work." "Well, calling the maid to make a new dress would be outlandish. If I recall you said that 'Annabelle' was looking to see if there was any clothing in your clothes room that she would be able to take with her anyway. Having the maid make a new dress would seem a little trite." Then Tabitha got an idea. "She wouldn't have to make a new dress." "Right, because I wouldn't be wearing one." "No, because she would just have to make some adjustments." "Oh please! You're still..." "Yes I'm still pushing forward with the idea to keep to the story that I told my father. Now, if you'll accompany me, I'm sure we can find something that will work for you." "What makes you say that?" "Well, there's the off chance that you will be able to fit into something that I own. You have a bit more of a slender build, and though you are a bit taller than me, your torso isn't that much longer than mine. It would just be a matter of finding the right dress, but I think that foundation garments would be essential as well." Peter was a little trepidatious about the idea, but he had already spend some time in the clothes room, as so he followed Tabitha. Looking around at all the materials that were available, Tabitha started to build an outfit in her mind. Using something simple, perhaps a street dress, since he would have to get home, but the foundation garments would also have to be simple if she hoped to have Peter change out of it on his own. "You are going to be undressing yourself once you return home, correct?" "Get home? I'm going to have to wear this outfit of yours all the way to my home? My father has a tough enough time just watching me come over here!" "How else are we going to ensure that the outfit is complete? This is something that I know my father will pursue." "This is going to be madding to explain." "Wait, what about your sister?" "What about her?" "Has she returned from her schooling?" "Her lessons to be a Lady's Maid? I'm not sure, but if she is, my father would have had to have gone to pick her up from the institution at which she is studying, since I'm here with you." "So she might be able to help you out of this?" "She might..." "Well then, we can make this a bit more convincing." "Convincing? Keep in mind that I have to face my father about this." "You should be able to see if your sister is in the house, and you would just have to call on your home and ask for your sister, then she can escort you in, and take care of things from there." It was Peter's turn to open his mouth in disbelief, falling short of letting words exit his mouth that would form a coherent sentence to relay his thoughts appropriately. "I still think that there has to be another way to do this." Tabitha picked out a simple white corset, and held it up to Peter. "Yes, this one should do nicely." Peter choked on his words. "A corset? You are seriously going to put me in a corset?" "I wear these everyday, and I get along just fine. Now please, Peter. I want to make sure that you get home safe." She looked at Peter and tried not to let the irritation in her thoughts shine through. She truly did care for Peter, and this method seemed to be the best laid plan that she could think of right now. "When I come up with a different plan, then I'll go ahead with that. Now please, disrobe, and we can get started." "With you watching?" "I'll try to keep my eyes closed. Keep in mind that my father will be coming to check up on us again soon, and I don't think that I'll be able to use the story that you are still not decent to come out and see him next time." Peter started to disrobe, then stopped. "Wait!" he said, "What about letting me escape through the servants doors, then have one of your maids leave through the front door, providing the appropriate rouse for your father to believe that a woman has left through the front door." Tabitha thought about that idea. She didn't come up with it, but it did pose merit. Peter would escape, and he would be able to get home in clothing that would not cause a stir in his household. Plus, he would feel more comfortable returning. This could work. His father would never pay attention to the servants, for they were all too old for his liking. Too old. Blast, there's the rub. Tabitha looked crestfallen once she realized the flaw to Peter's idea. Peter was able to pick up what Tabitha was about to say, and continued to disrobe. "Peter..." Tabitha started. "No, don't try to dissuade me from this idea. I dare say it's just as uncomfortable for me to propose it, but if we want to be together, I would think that this would be the best way." Peter sighed. "I suppose that if you are already engaged it would seem a little difficult to get some time to spend with another young man." "Especially one that I enjoy the company of very much." Tabitha smiled as sweetly as she could. Peter smiled at that remark, and continued to disrobe down to his breeches. Tabitha produces a set of bloomers and handed them to Peter. "I will turn so that you can put those on." "Are you absolutely certain this is necessary?" Peter asked. "I would think that your father has a bit more decency than to look under the dress of his daughter's guest." "He does," Tabitha said, "but this is more for you." "Me? So I can further humiliated?" "No, so that you have a bit more of a reminder that you're supposed to act like a lady. No one will see the bloomers, true, but you'll know they're there, and that will keep you in the right mindset." "I would think that the crinoline would be sufficient reminder of that," Peter said flatly, looking at the number of dresses with pronounced width. "You'll just have to trust me on this, Peter," Tabitha said gently. She turned away from Peter. "Just let me know when you're ready." Peter looked at the bloomers and thought hard about what Tabitha was proposing. He did care for her, and he did want what was best for her. But once he put these bloomers on, there was no turning back, this would be officially the craziest thing that he had ever done for anyone. If I manage to get through this, Peter said, I will do my darndest to marry this girl. I cannot think of anything else I would not do for this lady's hand. After Peter had managed the bloomers, he told Tabitha that he was ready to proceed. "Alright, now I'm not used to doing this, because I usually have servants who take care of this, so we'll have to just try to make do with the corseting." Peter grimaced at the idea of putting on something so restrictive, but he had come this far with the bloomers, and this was the next step. "Alright," Peter said nervously, "let's get on with this." Slipping on the corset was simple enough, but even loose, Peter could feel the boning poking him in places. "Are you sure this is safe?" "I've worn one everyday since I was of the age of eight, and I'm still breathing just fine. You'll be alright." Tabitha spoke calmly to try to ease Peter's nerves. She remember the first time she was tied into a corset. It was not an experience you easily forget. "But this corset was fitted for you, and you've been wearing it for a significant amount of time. What makes you so certain it will work for me?" Peter probed as Tabitha laced the corset. "I guess we'll just have to find out," said Tabitha as she finished with the lacing. "Now breathe out." "Breathe ou..." Peter was cut off as Tabitha pulled on the laces as hard as she could. She would have put her foot in place on the back of the corset, but her own corseting did not allow for her to raise her foot that high. Peter staggered for a moment and tried to let his rib cage expand. This was not going to happen. The corset had been cinched sufficiently to embrace his skeletal structure to the point that any type of torso movement would be restricted to moving side to side. He gasped, "How do you breathe?" Tabitha's response was, "Try to use your stomach." This was most unusual for Peter to do, since he was more accustomed to using his stomach to store food for digestion, not storing air to keep him breathing. "Are... you... sure?" "If you don't try, then you're going to pass out, and we can try this again," Tabitha was not in much of a mood to try lacing up a corset again, and she truly hoped that Peter would try breathing with his stomach muscles. Tabitha felt a wave of relief as she heard Peter take quick, shallow breaths. That was a start, and she could see a bit of colour come back into his face. "I'm not sure... how long I can keep this up." Peter said with much effort. "You're doing fine," Tabitha reassured Peter. "You just have to find a pace that works for you." "Couldn't you just loosen the corset?" Peter said. He took a short breath before he continued, "or better yet, take it off?" "Welcome to my life," Tabitha said playfully, "Now that we have the foundation garments in place, we can get the rest of the outfit together." "I still find it difficult to believe that I'm going to need all this just to get home," Peter mused. "Why not just have a long coat that's unbecoming of drawing attention, and then I would just slip into the shadows and no one would even know I was here?" "I would remember you were here, Peter," Tabitha said with a bit of mock pain in her words. "You know what I was intending, Tabitha," Peter replied, "I just think that all the frou for all is too much, especially for heading out into the street..." "Of course!" Tabitha said quickly, "Street attire! That would be the perfect thing for you to wear, and I have a spare dress that I rarely wear. Even my mother would think you were from not of this house." "All they would have to do is look at the way I walk, and I think they would figure that out." "Indeed," said Tabitha, "We don't have enough time to get the cobbler to make you a set of shoes, but the street dress should be more than long enough to cover your feet." "Alright, so what is the next part?" "We would have to set the crinolines in place," Tabitha said, trying to recall how this went together, but knowing that Peter wouldn't know the difference if they put the jacket on over the crinolines, and then the dress on top of that. She could simply say that it's the latest style, and he may very well buy into that. She selected the plainest arrangement of crinoline she had, and held it out for Peter to step into. Peter raised a leg, then put it back down. "I'm not sure if I can do this." "I told you, you'll be fine!" "It's not that," Peter said taking a short breath, then another before finishing his thought, "I'm not sure if I can step into something raised at that height." Of course, the corset was restricting things for Peter. Then she got a grand idea. "Just step onto the rising in the middle of the room, and then you should have the height needed to get into this." Peter eyed the rising, and saw that it was a small step up off the ground, but would be sufficient to raise him to a height that he could much easier step into the crinolines. "I hope this works," voicing his thoughts. He took the step up, and was able to extend his legs into the centre of the layers. Tabitha then brought the skirting up to his waist and fastened the buttons to secure it in place. It was a little tight, but then she didn't dare tighten the corset any further. Her maid was quite merciless with corset tightening, and these crinolines went on with ease for her. Mind, they were also tailored for her too, and it was amazing that Peter fit into this as well as he did. "Next, we have the blouse," Tabitha said, talking a pale blue silk blouse from a hanger, "Raise your arms, please." This was much easier for Peter since his range of mobility was not quite as restricted with his arms. He was not muscle bound either, but rather limber, so this was even further simpler for him. Once Tabitha had pulled the blouse over his head, she fastened the top buttons, and fixing the high collar. She stepped back to take a look at how Peter looked. The corset had slimmed his waist somewhat, and the high collar covered his Adam's apple. It was just the matter of his short hair that was overly distracting to the whole appearance. She would think of something later. For the moment, she had to get the overdress on him, and then the overcoat. "Oh my," Tabitha said, "There is one thing I overlooked." Peter was too busy concentrating on steady breathing than to worry too much about what Tabitha said, but he managed to say something to voice his concern for her worry, "What is the matter?" "It's just that you would need to have an overcoat or street cloak when you leave, and I don't have one in my clothes room. That is something that we keep in the general outdoor clothes area, and it's always brought to me." "That is a bit of a problem," Peter said. He tried to think of a way to help Tabitha figure out a way to get the a cloak to her room without arousing too much suspicion, and finally he decided to follow her pattern of thought. Go with the obvious. "Why not send for one then?" "But then the servants would see that you didn't come in with a cloak to begin with," Tabitha countered. "Then say that I forgot to bring one, and i would have to borrow one of yours," Peter challenged. "That would be ridiculous that you would travel without a cloak." "If the weather turns, then I would need something warmer, or thicker." "True, but who's to say that the weather will turn tonight?" "Who's to say that it won't?" Tabitha raised her hand to interject another point, but she realized that Peter was right. This was London after all, and the weather can change with the winds. One moment it would be calm and peaceful, the next it would be raining like a torrent. "I will work with that," Tabitha finally said, "Now to get the over dress on." This required a bit of work on both their parts, but thankfully Tabitha was a bit more mobile since she had removed her corset sometime ago to be ready for bed. "That should do it," Tabitha announced, looking at the work that she had done. She couldn't see Peter's feet at all, nor his shoes that were very masculine in every sense of the work, and with the crinoline, there was no emphasis of the fact that he wasn't a woman. Not that anyone would look there, since talking of any business of a woman's body below the waist was strictly taboo. Yet the waist itself was quite formed and borderline feminine with the curves imposed on Peter. It was a wonder that he was breathing at all with that boning creating a new cavity for his torso to rest. His chest was relatively flat, but that was also the style, and she couldn't see anyone coming to notice that, plus the blouse covered up any hair that would be uncomely for a woman to have. His face wasn't that feminine, but a bit of colour should solve that. Then the hair.... The hair! His short brown locks would certainly betray this illusion they were looking to set, and that would have to be address before the cloak arrived. If only she had something to cover it, and a powdered wig was out of the question. Peter could see the twisted frown on her face. Not quite crestfallen, but disappointed. "Now what is the matter?" "It's actually the same matter that we had before," Tabitha said woefully, "Your hair just isn't feminine." "Oh," said Peter running his hand through his hair, "I suppose not. What about a covering? A hat, or a bonnet?" "The bonnet would be brought up with the cloak. If my father came in again, that would be all." "What about a simple wrap with a handkerchief or towel?" She did have a few wraps, but that would be hardly something that would be able to serve as a head covering. Peter pointed at the corner, and said, "What about that?" Tabitha looked to where Peter was pointing, and saw a bonnet that was a match for the walking dress Peter was wearing. "Would that work?" Peter quirried. Almost overcome with exuberance they had found the proper match to the outfit, Tabitha snatched it off the wall where it was hanging and said, "Yes! This is the exact thing that we need to get you fitted up!" Peter stepped down from the center rising, and tried to bend over to allow Tabitha to fix the bonnet. "Peter," said Tabitha chiddingly, "You can do this yourself" "Really?" Peter was surprised, "How is this supposed to go on?" Tabitha giggled a little. "On your head, of course!" Peter was still a little lost looking at the bonnet, and Tabitha took it from his hands. She held it to her head without fastening it, and then handed it back to Peter. "See, it's simple." "You wear these every day, Tabitha," Peter scoffed. "Come on now," Tabitha said, "We're almost ready!" Peter brought the bonnet over his head as Tabitha showed him, and the two strings he brought to the front. He paused for a moment wondering what to do, then did what felt natural, and tied it with a bow. It wasn't the most elaborate tying, but he was used to tying laces on shoes, so he was fixed more on the functionality of the knot, rather than the look. Once he was done with the strings, he held his hands out, framing the work he had done. Tabitha was impressed with the bow, even with his less than feminine hands... "Oh dear," Tabitha said once again. Peter was starting to get tired of hearing this. "What have we forgotten now?" Tabitha went to a drawer and searched through it. Why hadn't she thought of this before? This was a most important part of the outer coverings. "A proper lady does not go anywhere without a proper set of gloves," she stated as she continued to hunt for the largest set of gloves she could find. She finally found a set of winter wool gloves that she used for riding on brisk days. "Try these," she offered. Peter tried them on, and found them to be a moderately good fit. The glove didn't quite extend the length of his fingers, but the lambs wool was able to allow for a bit of stretch. Nonetheless, they were a little tight. "Now are we done?" Peter asked, hoping the answer would be yes. "Just about," Tabitha said, "Now we have to get your face dressed." Peter had to take a moment to take in what she said. "Dressing my face, with what sort of clothing would you do that?" Tabitha smiled as she led Peter out of the clothes room. "Just have a seat at the vanity table, and you'll see." Peter walked over to the chair placed before the vast vanity table. He was taking smaller steps now because he didn't want to tread on any of the petticoats he had on. He tried to sit back as far as he could in the chair, but found the seat to be smaller than he imagined. Try as he might, there was still an odd sensation that he wasn't quite sitting completely on the chair. Tabitha came back to Peter's side with a couple brushes in hand and saw his motions on the chair. "Something the matter with your seat?" "How do I sit on this?" "That's a rather open question, Peter," Tabitha said with a hint of tease. She knew that he was not used to having all the crinoline providing extra cushioning and sharing space on the chair with him. He was probably also not used to sitting on the edge of a chair. "Sorry, perhaps the better question would be, Do you have a larger chair I could use?" Peter was still trying to find a proper space to rest. "Peter, you are just going to have to make do," Tabitha said as she selected a few powders to apply. "I am in amazement how you manage to do this, Tabitha," Peter said as he finally decided to sit in the most moderately comfortable position. "Do what?" "To do... this," Peter said, motioning to himself. "Corsets, petticoats, gloves, and now... cosmetics? Oh dear." "I'm not going to do much to you," Tabitha said, readying a brush with red blush in hand. "Just something to bring out your feminine accents. Now please, close your eyes and hold still." "I trust you have done this before?" "It's not much harder than painting, and I have become quite accomplished at that." Peter had no choice but to be still and hope for the best. He closed his eyes putting trust in the fact that Tabitha had never lied to him, and though he had not seen any of her paintings, she must be an artist in her own right in order to take on this challenge. Tabitha worked quickly and deftly as she applied rouge and pigment to brighten up Peter's face. The oval shape worked well for her design, and she was actually enjoying the making up. She finally applied a coat of lipstick to his slightly cracked lips, which smoothed out the imperfections and gave it the perfect accent of colour. At least she thought so. "Alright, you can open your eyes now, Annabelle," Tabitha said, emphasizing the name that she had made up moments ago. "Why did you call me, Annabelle?" Peter said as he opened his eyes. "Just look for yourself," Tabitha said, handing Peter her hand mirror. Peter rolled his eyes and took the mirror. After looking at his reflection for a moment, he closed his gaping mouth, and then tried to get some kind of sentence, or at least a word of expression, to come out of his mouth. He was simply stunned by how he looked. "Is this me?" "You're holding a mirror, not a painting," Tabitha reminded him, "but if you want to be exact, no that's not Peter Cooper. That's Annabelle you are looking at." "Annabelle," he said. Peter tried to get used to the name that he would be using for the duration of the night. After a moment, he put the mirror down and looked at Tabitha, "I think I can do this now. I had my doubts, but I think that I'll be able to step out of this room and onto the streets." Tabitha smiled again. "I'm glad you approve of my work. Now I'll page the maid to bring up a cloak, and get you on your way." "So soon?" Peter asked, "I was just starting to enjoy myself." Tabitha pulled her bell string to summon her maid. "I'm afraid so. If it's any consolation, I was enjoying myself too. I have assembled some outfits before, especially at concessions, but that was the first that I had to opportunity to do it with someone like you." Peter stood from the chair, and gave a turn in the attire he was sporting. "Would you say that your work is an accurate reflection of my own femininity? Or are we just enjoying pulling the wool over everyone's eyes?" Tabitha had to admit, Peter, or rather Annabelle, did make quite the nice lady. Of course there were the odd problems, such as the way he stood. "Annabelle, could you courtesy for me?" Peter kept on twirling, enjoying the movement of the clothing against his body, not noticing that Tabitha had asked him something. "Annabelle?" Tabitha was unsure if Peter was too much into the moment, or if he simply didn't realize that was the name to which he should respond. She boldly stepped forward and reached out to catch hold of the blue silk blouse to halt his movement. Before reaching out, she simply asked again, "Annabelle?" but Peter continued his twirl without notice. Tabitha finally stretched forth her hand and took hold of the blouse. It was enough to get his attention, but her hand slipped from its grip and touched Peter's gloved hand. Tabitha immediately pulled her hand away, as if she had done something very much out of place. She took a step back and lowered her head. "I guess you should get going home. It's already starting to get a little dark out." Peter was unsure what to tell her. Should he point out that it been dark for quite some time, since they were able to use the lantern and candle signals? Or would it be better to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with her touching his hand? It was obvious that was the thing she was worried about more. Breaking social courtesy by holding hands this early in courtship. This was courtship? It was remarkable how their relationship had progressed. At first they were exchanging goods on the street, and now he was wearing her clothing in order to make a clandestine get away. He had his own urges, but he knew that indulging right now would be too much of an issue for both Tabitha and himself. Finally after a moment of silence and thought, Peter said the only thing that he would think that could reassure her, "You're right. There will be another day. Hopefully I will not have to dress like this again." Tabitha's mind started to spin with ideas. "But what if you did?" Peter stopped in his half step towards the door. "Excuse me?" "What if you did come and visit me again, only you were Annabelle, my friend from finishing school, and not Peter, the son of the neighbourhood cooper?" Peter began to feel a little flustered at the thought. "I thought you wanted to spend time with me. If I'm dressed to be this friend of yours, this "Annabelle", how will we be able to spend any time together? And by we, I mean Peter Cooper and Miss Tabitha Fairfax?" "With my engagement, it will be even more difficult to get you close to the house. You saw how my father was?" "I didn't see, but I did hear," said Peter. "You understand my situation then," Tabitha said. "I do, I just wish that I could..." Peter's voice trailed off. "You wish you could..." Tabitha said, trying to make sense of what Peter tried to say. "Sorry," said Peter quietly. Then he took a small breath. "I just find I can get more air in my lungs, if I completely empty them." "Ah," Tabitha said, nodding in understanding, "The price we pay for beauty." Peter tried to continue with his breath punctuated by sentences, "I wish I could be of a higher class, so that I can court you properly." "So do I, Peter," said Tabitha, "But again, we'll have to make do with what we have at our disposal." There was a knock at the door. "Come in, please," Tabitha said. Harrison entered and opened the door wide. There was no one else with him. "Your father has informed me that your friend must take her leave now. It is very late, Miss Fairfax." "Of course, Harrison," Tabitha replied, "P..., Annabelle and I were just biding our farewells. Good night, Annabelle." "Good night, Tabitha," Peter said. He almost bowed, but the tightness of the corset prevented movement at the waist. He then remembered that he wasn't supposed to bow anyway, and turned to leave. Tabitha was right. The undergarments did remind him that he wasn't supposed to act like a young man. "Oh, Annabelle," Tabitha called out, "You almost forgot your handbag." As Tabitha walked up to Peter with the bag, Peter whispered through tight lips, "Is this necessary as well?" "It has the clothes you came with," Tabitha whispered back. "Thank you," Peter said a bit more audibly. "Will your friend be needing an escort home?" Harrison asked. Peter almost shouted, "NO!" but Tabitha spoke first, simply saying, "I believe she knows her way from here. You do know the way home, Annabelle?" Peter paused for a moment, then remembered that the question was directed at him. Using the most feminine voice he could, he answered, "Yes, I think I can make it home just fine. Thank you for your concern." He then crossed one leg behind the other and did a small curtsy, and headed out the door of Tabitha's chambers. ------ The walk home was a bit different for Peter. He was used to walking the streets in trousers and a loose shirt with a proper jacket covering it all. Wearing a walking dress and bloomers was an entirely different experience. He had to hold his dress up when walking by puddles, and there was also the issue of breezes that would blow under the dress. Thankfully, the winter weather was over, but he was still amazed at how women were able to keep such a balanced demeanor while they were walking in the streets as he was. The other thing that he was not accustomed to was the looks that we was getting from the other men in the neighborhood. He knew there was a lot of people, but with the new attire he was sporting, he could feel the eyes of almost every man as he made his way to the cooperage. It was almost haunting. His father must have been working late, because he could hear work going on in the cooperage. Peter was careful, and went to the side door. Not making any noise was a bit difficult with the walking dress we was wearing, but he was able to get into the side door without making much noise that could not be addressed to a cat rooting through garbage. Peter deftly made his way up the stairs and went to his sister's room. Knocking softly on the door, he hoped that would be enough to wake her. "Mandy!" Peter whispered strongly. No answer. Another series of raps on the door. "Mandy!" Peter whispered a little bit louder. Finally he heard a sleepy voice on the other side, "Come in." Peter walked in and shut the door behind him. His sister, Amanda, was propped up in her bed by her elbows. She took a look at Peter, then wiped her eyes with one hand. Taking another look at Peter, she was still a little confused. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" The constant binding of the undergarments should have been enough to remind Peter that he was in attire that disguised his appearance, but standing at the foot of his sister's bed, he had to mentally tell himself that his very own sister did not recognize him. "You do," he said in his regular voice. Hearing Peter's voice come from someone that didn't look like Peter was enough to get Amanda startled. After righting herself, she said quietly, "Peter? Is that really you?" Peter smiled and nodded, to which Amanda pulled up the covers in a natural reaction to her brother in her room. "What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that? How did you..." Peter held his index finger to his lips as a reminder that their father was still awake. "I'll explain everything in a little bit, but first, I need you to get me out of these clothes," said Peter quietly. "Alright, but can you give me a moment to put on a robe at the very least?" Amanda asked. "Of course," Peter said as he turned his back to her, allowing her a bit of privacy. "I'm ready now," said Amanda after securing a shabby robe. "Hand me your cloak?" Peter unfastened the cloak at the collar clasp and handed it to her, then followed with the bonnet. "Should I even ask how I'm supposed to get out of the corset?" Peter asked. "You're corseted too?" Amanda asked incredulously. Peter shushed her, and she uttered a quiet apology. "You're corseted as well?" she said a bit quieter. Peter nodded in affirmation. "Just please get me out of this," said Peter, "I miss taking complete breaths." Amanda rolled her eyes at this complaint as she unbuttoned the blouse, and removed it from Peter. "You think that's bad, you should try wearing one for an entire day like I do." Peter's head jerked in her direction. "I thought that you were just in school right now. You don't have to wear something like this," Peter indicated to the corset he was wearing, "all day for your classes do you?" "It's all a matter of getting used to them," Amanda said dryly, "When you are a Lady's Maid, you are expected to be following in the same fashion of your lady." This was more information that he had ever procured from his sister. He wasn't sure if Tabitha knew that much about her servants, to the point that they were corseted in the same manner that they were. All these practised, protocols, and now the clothing as well? It was a marvel these women just didn't run away and join a pirate ship. "I thought that fashion was all about making a statement," Peter said, "especially with women's clothing. I've noticed that Miss Fairfax rarely ever wears the same thing twice, and if she wears it a second time, it is with different pieces to complement it." "It's true," Amanda said, "That's why a lady's maid has to be well versed in dressmaking, sewing, and millinery, so that the lady is always prepared with another original thing to wear, but the servants need to be presentable to company. The more they look like everyone else, the more they can slip into the background." Peter's eyes lit up with the sound of the last phrase. "Did you say, 'slip into the background?'" Amanda stopped her work at unfastening the crinolines, "What of it? You have never taken a very strong interest in what I do, why so now, Peter?" "The whole reason that I wore this outfit was to slip out of the Fairfax house without anyone noticing me. You are saying that servants are supposed to do that all the time?" "Well... Yes," Amanda said with some uncertainty, "I am constantly being told that the best kind of servant is one that is not noticed at all. The whole purpose of servants is to thave the household operate at minimal interruption." Peter thought on that for a moment. "That's quite the split household. One side works and makes sure that everything goes well, while the other side carries on as if nothing else matters but them." Amanda shrugged. "That might be unfair, but that's the way things are. Why does that bother you?" "Well, I supposed it doesn't," Peter said, "I just wish that I could be on the other side. That's all." "You fancy this MIss Fairfax?" "You say that like it's a bad thing!" "It is a bad thing, Peter!" Amanda whispered hotly, "The only people who get close to a lady like this Miss Fairfax of yours is her husband and her personal maid." "Yes, I know," Peter said. He hung his head for a moment, then smiled and looked to his sister. "Did you say personal maid?" "I did," Amanda said warily, "I hope you are not thinking of asking me for anything." "You're training to be a lady's maid," Peter said, "How far along are you?" "I'll be finished in a couple of weeks," Amanda said, "Do you expect me to be her maid?" "That would work for the time being," Peter replied, "But what if I was able to take that position?" "You're a young man, Peter," Amanda stated strongly, but quietly, "One of the requirements of being a maid is that you are... well, a maid!" "That you are a maid, or simply look like a maid?" Peter countered, "Who really knows what's underneath that dress?" "Peter, that was uncalled for, and sister or not, I don't like talking to you about this," Amanda said fiercely. "Just thinking out loud, Mandy," Peter said, trying to take the venom out of Amanda's voice. "You have quite the imagination, Peter. You think that just because you are wearing a corset and walked through the streets of London in the walking dress that you are ready to take a position of service beside a lady? Something that I have been in training for years now? You are beyond thought, little brother!" "That was uncalled for," Peter said under his breath. Amanda was born just ahead of Peter, as they were twins. Amanda always remembered that little fact and used it against him when Peter has getting too headstrong. "I heard that too!" Amanda seethed. "Amanda, please, try to understand me," Peter said, "Right now, Amanda is engaged to be wed, and her future husband seems very cold towards her. I know that I could be a better man for her, I just need to have the chance to prove that to her." "Correct me if I am misunderstanding you, but you want to prove you are a better man than her future husband, by presenting yourself as a woman?" "Is that so hard to figure?" "Peter... That's just so... so..." "What?" Peter challenged, "Juvenile? Crazy? Idiotic? You think I didn't think of that when I was getting dressing into that walking outfit? I know this is beyond what this family has even thought of doing, but I love MIss Fairfax. I would be willing to do anything for her, even if it means that I have to be incognito in order to be around her in close proximity. I love her, Amanda, and I need your help to show that to her." "You need my help by covering for you?" "I need your help to show me how to be a Lady's Maid." "Peter, you are a cooper, and a fine one at that!" Amanda was trying to figure this out and talk some kind of sense into him. "We are just children, barely aware of what is going on in this world, we can't just go out there and expect to solve problems that are so beyond our control that we can't fathom how they even came to be. You are going to grow up, make barrels like your father, and his father before him. Coopering is the lifeblood of this family, and if you disrupt that, there will be nothing else!" "Then why are you going off to be a Lady's Maid, if cooperage is so strong in this family?" Peter shot back. Amanda wanted to answer, but she held her tongue. "You don't have an answer to that?" Peter retorted, "You take down all the ideas I have, but your own employment you have nothing to say to defend that? Why don't you help in the cooperage then?" "I'm a young woman, I'm not supposed to do that kind of work," Amanda said, "You know that." "But you used to," Peter said, "when we were younger, you were always trying to help in the cooperage, whether it was just hauling a single piece of wood, or helping with the bellows of the fire." "Father was fine with me doing work like that, since it translates into work that I would be doing right now," she replied. "Then why were you always asking father how the coopering process worked? Why did you want to have just a vested interest in the family trade if you knew that you weren't going to become anything from it?" Amanda didn't say anything and just lowered her head. "You have to admit we both have a interest it what each other does. This venture in feminine attire was a little daunting for me, but I dare say that it was an experience that enjoyed for the most part." "You LIKE being bound together with that corset?" "After you get used to it, it's not that bad." "You haven't had a piece of boning come loose and pierce you in the side!" Amanda said forcefully, "I heard stories about women who went through the pain of having the metal lodged in their side, and then they died a very slow and painful death because of this atrocious garment!" "That really happens?" Peter said. "Of course it does!" Amanda said. "You just never hear about it because then you might feel a bit of compassion towards women!" "What are you saying? Are you implying that I don't care about you, or Miss Fairfax, or your physical well being? That I'm just a horrendous person looking out only for the pleasure of my own person? You know me better than that, Amanda." Amanda raised her head and look Peter in the eye. "I do know you Peter, but you don't know what I have to put up with everyday. I have to look out for myself out there. It's not just a matter of walking across the town square when you're a woman. You have next to no social class if you don't have a man attached to you or your name." "What are you talking about? You have our father! And he's one of the best coopers there ever were! That must be good for something." "Indeed it is," Amanda said calmly, "within our neighbourhood, and within the working class. Outside of that, we are unknowns. People with a great deal of money, or with ties to the royal family have better standing than us." "Royalty?" Peter said. "Perhaps that's my Tabitha's father was so unwound." "Sorry?" Amanda said, "You were approached by Miss Fairfax's father?" "He came into her chambers while I was hiding in her Clothes room." "Well, he wouldn't look in the clothes room, but still, he must have been in quite a state if he walked into his daughter's own chambers." "How so? It's his home." "Maybe so, but the Lord of the house does respect his women." "What about the Lords that impose their will on the servants?" "That's not done in their quarters." "Hmm... I suppose not." "In any case, Peter, you should be very grateful that he didn't find you!" "I know," Peter said with a mixture of shock and relief, "But it was something that I never thought I would do. Especially with Lord David Somerset making that proposal to Miss Fairfax. My mind has gone a little out of sorts I suppose." "Lord David Somerset?" Amanda clarified, "Duke of Beaufort of the house of Lancaster?" "Yes..." said Peter, a little puzzled how she knew all that. "That's one of the most eligible bachelors in London! Royal house, prized wealth, and who knows what else?" Peter was more than shocked now. "How am I supposed to compete with that?" "That's what I was trying to tell you Peter," Amanda said with some sadness, "We just don't measure up to people of the caliber. When Miss Fairfax weds Lord David Somerset, it will be a merging of the two families! Not only will it elevate Lord David Somerset's status as a married man, but the Fairfax household name will be heard throughout London as well! Being wed to a royal helps the bride's family as much as it helps the husband. It does not matter if the husband is abusive or not, but there is a woman in his life, and that is sufficient for him." "But there must be a way for this to work!" Peter said with some desperation, "If I were her maid..." "You would be a woman, and therefore COULD NOT WED HER," Amanda finished. "I would have to see what her opinion would be in that regard," Peter said, "I want to know if she would be willing to run with this idea. She was the one who suggested that I disguise myself with her clothes and pass myself off as a friend of hers." Amanda rolled her eyes again, and saw that she was not going to talk any sense into her brother, and decided to leave him to his devices. "Turn around Peter," said Amanda, "If I can't get this foolish idea out of your head, perhaps I can at least get you out of this corset." "Yes, please!" Peter said, turning the laced section to Amanda's hands. "You can keep the bloomers on though," Amanda added. "They shouldn't be noticeable under a nightshirt." That excited Peter somewhat, more so that he could retire for the night than anything. It had been quite the night with all the calling, and dressing, and introductions that had occurred. He had to approach Tabitha with this idea, but how to do it?