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Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Sun, 2009/12/06 at 2:59am, this retro classic Christmas Special was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. ~Sephrena

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‘Father, what are we going to do?’

I gazed down at him on the floor, with just a rough blanket for his covering and the same for a pillow. He was so ill and had not even the strength to lift his head.

I was eleven years old and I had tried to look after my sick father. I wondered yet again why we had come to this sad state of affairs.

I fetched some water from the basin and tried to get him to sip from the battered old cup; but the water dribbled from his lips as he tried to drink. He was so pale, almost white except for his lips; they had a strange blue hue.

‘Thank you, Robert,’ he whispered in a voice that I could barely hear. He fell asleep again a thing that he had done increasingly lately. I should have gone looking for food but I was so afraid to leave him like this. I sat by his cot and by the light of a sputtering candle, thought again about our misfortune.

We had been comparatively well off–once. Father worked in a counting house and earned enough for us to have decent lodgings and eat well. My mother had died in childbirth nearly two years before. I missed her pretty face and delicate disposition. The child had been a girl, I was told and she too did not survive more than five minutes after my mother.

Father had taken it badly but as I was only ten at the time, I seemed to shake it off quickly. No doubt due to the resilience and adaptability of a young child. Father; however was never the same again. Even in the 1840s with all the medical advances that this century has brought us, death was still commonplace.

Where once my father laughed, he now retreated into himself. I tried to be the best son I could be for him by not being a burden and I believe that he realised this. He continued to teach me letters as he did not want a son who could neither read nor write. However, he always seemed to be in another place and another time, a happier time when the love of his life still walked the Earth.

Father’s health had gradually deteriorated after the loss of my mother and in the end he lost his job. He tried other places but to no avail as he could not keep any position for very long. Soon his hacking cough became something that I ignored because it was a “normal” sound.

Since we had little money coming in, we lost the rooms in which we had lived since my birth. A succession of moves, gradually brought us to this place, a tenement in the depths of London’s slums. I did what I could, running errands and doing small jobs to keep us afloat, but I could not leave Father for long periods because of his deteriorating health. Needless to say, we could not afford doctors and to be honest, no doctor in his right mind would visit a cesspit like this. The walls were damp and the smell of the place was that of a sewer. The roads outside were mainly dirt tracks and there was no sanitation to speak of. Illness plagued the area and do-gooders were forever trying to have whole place torn down and rebuilt but the landowners thought better and nothing got done.

We had pawned any belongings that would give us money, long since. Both my father and I were now wearing the clothes of one whose normal habitat was the gutter.

I was washing my face in the dirty water of the basin, when I heard a noise behind me.

‘Robert?’

I turned and quickly made my way to my father’s bedside. He was trying to sit up and having little success.

‘Father, you must rest.’

‘I—I have no time to rest,’ he said in a voice stronger than I had heard for many a day, ‘sit me up, boy.’

I did as I asked and sat him up, his back against the damp cracked masonry of the wall. I covered him up as best I could as he shivered in the dull light of the single candle.

‘Robert,’ he said, ‘my time is soon when I will be joining your Mama––’

‘–no Father, do not say that–’

‘–Yes, it is a fact. I know that I have little time. Listen to me now. As you know, I have no relatives alive. Your mother, when she married me was cut off from her family. I have not spoken of this before as it is a thing of shame. You need to be prepared though. Your mother was with child before we were married. You were the child. Her family wanted you to be taken away but your dear Mama would not have it. We…’

He stopped for a moment, his voice had been getting gradually much more hoarse, I gave him a sip to drink and it seemed help him somewhat.

‘Thank you, my son; anyway, we married and decided to move away from Sussex where your Mama’s family resided. I have little time–no do not argue, we both know it.’

He paused once again and his eyes closed for a moment, then he opened them and smiled at me.

‘You must try to make something of yourself. Promise me that you will do the best you can to better yourself, no matter what.’

‘I promise, Father.’ I said with a quavering voice as I held his icy cold hand.

‘Get out of London; this is no place for you. If you go to the workhouse, I would fear deeply for you. More than one child has not survived the experience. You are so small and dare I say it too pretty to be a boy who can survive such a place. They work you hard for little food and are kept in conditions little better than this. I—I love you more than life itself and I want to go to my maker knowing that you will do your best to better yourself. Also, I want you to make your peace with your mother’s family. None of this is your fault. Go to Sussex and find them, they are the Fitzherberts of Brighton. If they do not wish to fulfil family obligations, you must try to find some kind soul who will keep you safe. Promise that you will do this?’

‘I will, Father. I promise,’ I said through the tears that were coursing down my cheeks.

He fell back upon his rough pillow and was panting for breath and then his eyes opened and he looked up. A smile came to his face.

‘Emma, I am coming, my love!’

His eyes slowly closed and after a few seconds his breathing stopped.

‘Father…Father…FATHER!’

I watched my father being buried in a pauper's grave and did not cry. It was the day after my birthday and it was no time for celebration. It was a miserable day and apart from the vicar and gravediggers, I was the only one to mourn his passing. I was left at the graveside after the fresh earth was put upon the coffin and felt very much alone in the world. Here was I, a slight boy, now twelve, thin, malnourished and of no fixed abode–our dwellings had been given to another family upon the demise of my father.

The rain dripped off my nose as I stood there undecided and then there was a tap on my shoulder making me jump. Looking around was a large man in the parochial uniform of the Beadle. He was looking down at me and had a fierce look upon his face.

‘Well boy, the vicar has informed me that you are poor. Is that cowect are you poor?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘And your age sir?’

‘My age is twelve, sir.’

‘And this ‘ere gwave is where your father wesides?’

‘Yes, it is, sir.’

‘And your mother sir, what of your mother?’

‘Dead these last two years sir; God rest her soul.’

‘Any welatives?’

‘None to speak of sir.’

‘Than, it is my civic and pawochial duty to take charge of you sir and put you in the hands of the Pawish.’

‘Parish, sir?’

‘Yes, pawish. You will come along with me and I will take you to the workhouse, where you will be fed and clothed and put to work.’

‘But, sir––’

‘You question me, sir?’

‘Oh no, sir, it’s just–’

‘Speak up, boy.’

‘I can look after myself, sir–’

‘Not in this pawish. We do not have bands of boys wunning awound a-thieving while I am Beadle. You are to come along with me.’

I recalled my father’s warning not to get caught up with the parish and the workhouse and try instead to find my family. I knew that once I was in the workhouse, a virtual prison, I would find it difficult to escape.

‘S—sir, may I use the lavatory first?’

‘You can piss in that there bush.’

‘I—I have need to use the privy sir.’

The beadle shook his head. ‘You have been bwought up too much in the way of finewy, I see. Go ask the vicar if you can use his facilities, you may get a clipped ear for your cheek, mind. I will wait here for you. Do not be long, else you will feel the back of my hand, sir.’

‘Thank you, sir!’ I exclaimed to the corpulent, red-faced bully as I ran off towards the vestry.

Looking over my shoulder, I could see the beadle looking at my father’s grave. As he was preoccupied, I made my escape down the side of the church and out onto the lane. I ran as fast as my rather small legs would take me. I wanted to remove myself from the area as soon as possible. I had no idea where Sussex was, but assumed that it was a great distance from London.

I was helped somewhat as the rain, if anything was getting heavier. I was wearing a thin, worn coat and shirt, together with the last pair of breeches I possessed. Needless to say, I was soaked to the skin, but as I ran, I felt warm. It was only when I stopped that the chill entered my bones. It was getting dark and I needed a place to sleep for the night.

For a little while now, the houses had thinned out and I was in the countryside. I still had no idea where I was and as I was avoiding being seen; I had not the opportunity to ask anyone the way to Sussex. For all I knew, I could be going in totally the wrong direction, but as flight was my object, anywhere away from the parish was all I could hope for on this filthy wet night.

Off to the side of the lane, by the dim light of the waning day, I saw a large barn. As there were no houses nearby, I took a chance and climbed the fence and went over to the large brick structure.

It was an open barn with hay stacked as high as the roof. It took me moments to decide that I would stay here the night. I was not in a fit state to go on as I was tired, weak, hungry and my shoes–never good at the best of times–had worn thin. Indeed, I could see my coarse brown socks through a hole on the sole of one of them.

I burrowed deep into the surprisingly warm and slightly damp hay and then fell into a deep sleep.

I was awoken by the sound of a cock crowing. I was very warm and my clothes felt dry on me. I stretched my aching limbs and then left my warm nest and walked outside. The day was finer than yesterday and there was some warmth in the air as the sun rose above the horizon.

My throat felt dry and I noticed a trough over at the side of the barn. I assumed that the trough was for the use of farm animals and what was good enough for them, would certainly suffice for me. I drank deeply, the slightly brackish water. I filled my belly with it as it assuaged the hunger pains that I was now feeling.

Soon I was ready to continue my journey. Being in the country now, I assumed that I was out of the control of my parish and the Beadle. I left the field, stronger in mind and spirit. Continuing along the lane, I came across a road, having walked for about an hour. This road appeared to be a major thoroughfare as I saw from my hiding place behind a bush, several men on horses, carts, carriages and even walkers pass along the way.

I needed to know where the road led as I did not wish to go in the wrong direction. Eventually, a man with a horse and cart stopped nearby. He seemed to deal kindly with his horse as he stopped and fed him with some hay from a sack that he carried on the cart.

I decided to trust my instincts and I walked to the man as he stopped and lit his pipe.

‘Sir, could you tell me what road this is?’

He looked at me through bushy eyebrows as he puffed on his pipe.

‘Are yer a girl or boy, yer have the face of a girl but the clothes of a boy?’

‘Boy sir.’

‘And why are yer not home with yer family? Tis a dangerous place the road.’

‘I…I have family in Brighton sir.’

‘Tis a powerful way to Brighton, lad.’

‘Am I on the right road sir?’

‘Well, if you go down this road for three mile, you come to a junction, then turn…look, I will give you a lift to the junction if you wish it. I do not like to see a young gi…boy on the road in these dangerous times. Too many rogues and vagabonds about. Do yer wish to come?’

‘Yes sir, if I may.’ I said eagerly as I jumped up on the seat next to him.

As we went along the road, the kind man asked me a number of questions. I tried to answer truthfully, but I was worried that he might let the authorities know.

‘So you have no parents then?’

‘No sir, I am to see my relatives in Brighton.’

‘I hope that you may find them.’ He said as we came to the crossroads.

‘I am going a different way to you. If you follow this road for forty mile, you should come to a crossing that is signposted Brighton. A further ten miles and you are there. Be careful, of thieves and vagabonds and only ask lifts from tradesmen or carriages. Avoid anyone on horseback like the plague.’

‘Thank you, kind sir, for your help and advice.’

He looked at me and smiled through the fog of his pipe smoke. Shaking his head, he tipped his hat and was on his way. I was sad to see him go as he had shown me kindness at a time when it was in short supply.

I started off down the road, not knowing how long it would take to get to my destination. The day was fine and the sun high in the sky. I was not hungry as the kind man had shared some bread and ale with me. I wondered if I would come across any more kind souls but I was very aware of the words that he had uttered regarding being careful.

The road was fairly well used and I hid when I could at the sound of hooves. I walked all morning until my feet protested that they could do no more without rest. According to the stones, I had covered some five miles. At this rate, even if I was lucky I would take a considerable time to reach my destination. I went away from the road and down to a brook. The relief I felt as I dipped my hot feet into the cool water was beyond description. I stayed there for an hour, resting and drinking from the clear refreshing water. Then, reluctantly, I got up and continued my journey.

I was on the road for four days, stopping when I had to and sleeping where I could, in sheds, barns and on one night in a ditch, covered with leaves. I lived on water from streams and ponds, berries from bushes that lined the roads and apples and pears from trees near the road. I did not starve. On five occasions, I took a chance and called passersby for a lift, but to no avail as travellers did not like to pick up wretched urchins like me.

Once, I nearly got into trouble as I heard some hoof beats and was about to come out when a rider flew by with a pistol in his belt and a none too nice expression on his cruel face. Highwaymen, even in these modern times were not unknown and this looked like a prime example!

It was on the fifth day that my luck changed. I was stiff and sore from the previous day’s walk and I think that I may have eaten a bad apple as my stomach the previous night heaved on more than one occasion. I was tired and dispirited therefore when I left the old shed that I had slept in.

I was not attending very well as I walked a slowly along the road. I should have been more aware of my surroundings and who might actually be on the roads that day. I heard the clip clop of hooves, but in my state of discomfort, I didn’t even look up as the horse and cart passed me.

I was vaguely aware of it stopping and a young woman getting down and walking back to me.

She came over and sort of swam in front of my eyes.

‘What ails you, child, and why are you walking alone like this?’

‘‘I–am going to Brighton.’ I whispered.

‘Brighton! That is a powerful long distance. Do you intend to walk?’

‘I—if I have to–’

I closed my eyes for a moment and I heard a rustle as someone else came up. Opening my eyes, I could see another woman, older, standing there in a dress and bonnet.

‘Nell, what’s happening?’

‘This child needs to go to Brighton.’

‘She’s wearing boy’s clothes, why?’

‘I don’t know, Grace, ask her yourself.’

‘Did you steal those clothes child?’ she asked sternly.

‘I feel a bit queer, Miss.’

‘Never mind that. Answer me did you take those clothes and why are you on this road, by yourself. Why are you dressed like a boy?’

‘No I am–I am...am a b––’

I felt hot and cold at the same time and the woman’s face swam before me. Everything started to spin and go dark. I collapsed and knew no more.

When I woke up, I felt very strange. I wasn’t on the road, I was in a room. My fuzzy vision cleared somewhat and I looked around. I was lying on a bed. The room was small but neat. There was a small window to the side and blue curtains were drawn back. I could see through the window a tree. Back in the room, I noted that I was alone. There was a dresser in the corner and a wardrobe in the other. A fire crackled in the grate and added further light and heat to the room. As I tried to sit up, I felt my head ache rather a lot so I changed my mind and let my head sink back. I was as weak as a kitten and knew that I had not been well. I seemed to be wearing some sort of white embroidered nightgown and it felt both crisp and warm at the same time. I felt my eyes close of their own accord and I fell asleep again.

When I awoke again, it seemed much later in the day as shadows were crossing the room.

Once again I was alone. My head felt clearer though. I sat up in bed and looked around me once again. There were a couple of gas lamps on the wall where the fireplace was. I rubbed my eyes and then tried to take stock of my situation. I had somehow come to this place and in this bed, and remembered nothing of the events that brought me here. Then memories did come back to me as I recalled the cart stopping in the road and the two women questioning me.

Before I could think any further, the door opened and a woman entered. I recognised her as the lady with whom I had spoken on the road. She was wearing the clothes of a maid. On seeing me awake, she came over to the bed.

‘How are you, child?’

‘Much better, thank you.’

‘That is good. We were very concerned for you.’

‘How came I here?’

‘You collapsed on the road. Young Nell and I decided to bring you here rather than let you perish in the open’

‘Thank you, ma’am you were most kind. May I ask where I am?’ I asked.

‘Patcham Manor,’ she replied.

‘I do not remember coming here.’

‘You fell ill. That is when we decided–that is, Nell and me–to bring you here. We could not leave you on the road. We spoke with Cook and she agreed that you should be put to bed and the doctor fetched. I asked permission of the Mistress and she agreed with cook’s decision.’

‘What is wrong with me?’

‘The Doctor said that you ate something bad and also you had a fever. He said that you should be in bed for a while and then if all was well you could get up then.’

‘You are so kind to me.’ I could feel my eyes dampen.

‘It is our Christian duty to help others. Now you must tell me how you came to be on the road.’

She sat down beside me on the bed as I told her my tale. How my father had died and what he had told me about my history before taking his final breath. I felt that I had to be honest with this kind lady so I also told her about the Beadle and not wanting to go in the poorhouse. She expressed some surprise at my telling her that I was related to the Fitzherberts of Brighton.

‘Are you sure of this?’

‘It is what my father told me and I believe him. My father never told lies and he was a good man.’

‘We are but 10 miles from the place where the Fitzherbert family live, but they are in London now for the season. They will be returning just before Christmas.’

I looked at the lady and saw that she did not seem to really believe what I was saying about my relationship with that illustrious family.

‘What am I to do?’

‘There are some difficulties. The mistress wishes to see you but knows that you are not strong enough to see her in her room. She has said that she will come to see you after supper this evening. There is something else we need to speak of.’

‘What ma’am?’

‘When I saw you on the road, I thought you were a girl but dressed in boy’s clothes for some reason. Perhaps you had stolen them and I was concerned that you were a thief. When you were undressed we could see that you are in fact a boy although a much underdeveloped one. How old are you?’

‘Twelve, ma’am.’

‘Well, you look much younger, more like nine or ten. Lady Cranmer will talk to you of the, shall we say problem that you have caused. Be prepared to be questioned at length and tell the truth to her or there is no hope for you. Do you understand?’

‘Y—yes ma’am.’

‘That is good, now rest for a while, food will be brought up shortly and then, when she wishes, milady will come see you.’

She smiled sadly and then shook her head. She quietly left the room, leaving me with more questions than I had before she had entered. I had not even asked her name; then I remembered vaguely that it was Grace.

I rested for a while, I was still somewhat weak and then a young girl came in and gave me soup to eat and some rough bread. She said nothing to me except hello and goodbye. I had a feeling that she had been told not to converse with me.

By the time I had finished the soup and bread–I discovered that I was ravenously hungry–I was somewhat tired again. I rested my head against the soft pillows and must have fallen asleep.

When I awoke, I started slightly as I saw a woman had come in and was sitting beside the bed looking at me intently.

She was not a young woman, but she was not old either. She was dressed in a fine cream silk gown and had pearls around her neck. Her hair was piled atop her head and she had a certain manner about her. I was quick enough to realise that this was the mistress of the house.

‘How are you, child?’ She asked, not unkindly.

‘Very well ma’am.’ I replied.

Have you any pain?’

‘None to speak of other than a pain in the head, ma’am.’

‘And is the pain in your head debilitating?’

‘No ma’am.’

‘Then you are well enough to talk.’

‘If you wish it ma’am.’

‘I do. What is your name, child?’

‘Robert, ma’am.’

I saw a look of pain cross her brow and she shook her head slightly as if she had heard something that was not pleasant to her.

‘My parlour maid, Grace Jawkins, has told me of your circumstances, are they true?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘And would you swear on the Holy Bible that they are true?’

‘Indeed I would, ma’am.’

She looked into my eyes for a moment and I returned her gaze. After a moment, a slight smile flickered on her lips and then she just nodded.

‘Very well. Jawkins has told me of your contention that you are related to the Fitzherberts but estranged. The only person to prove your assertions was your father, now sadly beyond any earthly questioning. But you speak well. Do you know your letters?’

‘Yes ma’am, my father taught me to read and write and also I was instructed in mathematics and arithmetic.’

‘What is one plus seventeen less five plus three times ten?’

‘One hundred and sixty, ma’am.’

And how do you spell character?’

I spelt it for her.

‘And soliloquy?’

‘s-o-l-o-q-u-y, ma’am?’

‘Wrong, but I shall not hold that against you, I found that one quite difficult as a child.’

Lady Cranmer stood up and paced the room, her long gown dragging the floor slightly. She looked an imposing figure as she walked and I wondered what she was thinking. I dreaded the thought of being taken away. I decided that if there was any talk of being taken to the workhouse or having the local Beadle summoned to take me away, I would somehow escape and find my way to Brighton. What would come of me then, I did not know, but anything would be preferable to the workhouse.

The lady stopped her pacing and then looked at me.

‘Are you well enough to get out of bed?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Then do so.’

I sat up and then somehow got up out of the warm bed and stood by the side of it, swaying in the white cotton nightgown that went down to my uncovered toes.

She looked at me and I started to feel somewhat faint. The lady saw this and hurried over.

‘Very well, I have seen enough get back into bed before you fall over.’

I gratefully sank back onto the bed and covered myself up. I did not realise how weak I had become.

Lady Cranmer came back over to the bed and sat down beside me.

‘I have come to a decision, but I have to tell you something that might not be agreeable to you. I will let you stay, but only if you agree to my terms. You need to understand those terms and comply with them fully. Do you understand?’

‘Yes ma’am.’ I replied wondering what I would have to do to stay here.

‘The Fitzherberts will not be back until Christmas and that is nearly three weeks away. Until then I would be your temporary guardian and you shall be my Ward. Before we enter into this arrangement I need to tell you a few things. Ten years ago, I was to be married. I truly loved the man and I believed the same of him. My Papa had died shortly after my birth and I was brought up by my Mama and a series of governesses. I had very little contact with men and was therefore not wise to their ways. I was captivated by a young man who was introduced to me by a mutual acquaintance. Without going into the final details, I was in love. We were to be married in the local church and my life was full and happy.’

She stood up and started pacing the room again. She continued as if I was not there as she recalled the events of ten years ago.

‘I came to the church in my white wedding gown, my mother’s before me and her mother’s before that. The veil was about my head. I walked in the church on the arm of a distant but kindly uncle. Everyone from the village and surrounding area was there. As I walked up the aisle, I was the happiest girl alive. I could see my future husband standing there watching me arrive and my heart was full of love for him and the excitement of my special day. I stood before the vicar with my future husband by my side. The vicar was saying the things that they always say on these occasions and when he got to the part where he asked the groom if he Jonathan Hertford-Davies, take thee Elizabeth Cranmer, to your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse… and then my betrothed stopped the vicar with his hand, looked at me and said that he could not go through with this as he was already married. He looked at me once more, said sorry and walked out of the church, leaving me distraught and overcome with grief.

I could see that even at this great length of time, she was still overcome with that same grief that consumed her all those years ago.

‘Why he left it to that final hour, minute and second to tell me–to humiliate me in front of all that I held dear, I will never know. He went out of my life and I have heard nothing of him since.’

She looked at me and then sat down beside me again.

‘All the men in my life have failed me. My father died because he decided to be braver than everyone else and was speared whilst with the army in Africa. My betrothed failed me because he was a coward and not a gentleman. Since that time I have allowed no man in this house other than the vicar and the doctor. You are male and my immediate response to hearing that you were under my roof was to send for the authorities and have you taken from this place and put in the workhouse. Men are deceitful, vain, self-serving and I wish to have nothing to do with them, even one so young as you.’

I looked at her and could not understand the mixed messages that she was giving me. On the one hand she wished to be my guardian–albeit temporary; on the other she wished to be rid of me. I sank back onto my pillow; my headache was getting worse as I tried to understand this unfathomable woman.

‘However,’ she continued, ‘I am a woman of compassion and humility and at this time of year when we celebrate the birth of Christ, I would show compassion. You have the features and figure of a girl. You speak softly, like a girl. You are intelligent and your manner pleases me. If you are to stay here and become my temporary Ward, you must stay as a girl not a boy. You will dress as a girl and in all things be feminine. How say you? Do you accept me terms?’

I looked at her with shock and just said the first thing that came to me.

‘But, Ma’am, I am a boy and do not know how to be a girl.’

‘This can be taught, half the world is female; do you think that it is that difficult?’

‘Yes, I mean no, but what would others say about me?’

‘You care what others say? You who are but one step from being sent to the workhouse? I do not pressure you. I wish to help, but only on my terms. Once again I ask, do you accept?’

I looked at her stern face, knowing that all she said about my being taken away would come to pass. I could run away. I knew that I could. But I was weak still from my illness and I wondered what would become of me in the harsh winter conditions that gripped the country. The alternative was, to me terrible. I recalled my father’s warning about not going to the workhouse. I then remembered that this would be a temporary arrangement because as soon as the Fitzherberts returned from London, I would see them and hopefully be accepted into the bosom of the family; after all blood is thicker than water.

All this was thought of in a moment and I took a deep breath and gave her my answer.

‘Ma’am, you are kind enough to look after me and call me your Ward, I would be proud to be a girl in the circumstances.’

It was as if another veil lifted from her face as she smiled, making her look considerably younger than her years.

‘Well, that is a fine thing. We must change your name. I would call you Roberta, if it suits.’

‘It suits, Ma’am.’

‘You are to call me Aunt Elizabeth, Roberta.’

‘Thank you M–Aunt Elizabeth, I would like that of all things.’

‘Estelle will be your chamber maid. You are to take her advice in all things feminine. My niece Juliette, now married has left many items of clothing from her younger days that will fit you for now. I will get my seamstress to measure you for some of your own gowns though. You may kiss me.’

She leaned over and I kissed her cheek.

‘Good girl. If you are able, I will see you at dinner.’

‘The doctor said that I should stay in bed for a while, Aunt.’

‘The doctor is a man and obviously does not realise that women are made of sterner stuff. You seem well enough and you are young; however, we will have a quiet dinner and if you tire you can return to bed.’

‘Thank you–Aunt Elizabeth, for your kindness.’

‘Thank you for accepting my terms. It will be pleasant to have young blood in the house once again.’

She smiled again and it made her look so beautiful. I wondered why she had not found another to share her life with. It was a pity that she considered all men to be bad on the strength of a few unfortunate incidents in her life. I hoped that one day she would find it in her heart to accept that the past is in the past and that she should move on with her life.

‘Rest now for a while, Roberta. I shall send Estelle in later and she will help you dress for dinner.’

My eyes closed of their own volition and I was soon asleep again. I did not hear the door close.

When I awoke, my headache was gone and I felt much clearer in my head. I did not realise where I was for a moment and then I remembered. I was to present myself as a girl named Roberta and be the Ward of Lady Cranmer. I shook my head slightly, knowing that I would look stupid in a dress. But this was the only way I could stay and await the return of my true family and I had agreed to do this. I was a person who kept promises made. I would do what I could to stay here.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and a girl who I had not met before came in. She looked about eighteen, I suppose, and was wearing the uniform of a maid.

She came over to the bed.

‘Miss, I have been asked to find out if you are well enough to join Madam at table.’

‘I…I think so. W…what am I to wear?’

‘I have taken the liberty of drawing a bath for you. The connecting door is over there. If you would like to bathe, I will lay out the clothes that your guardian wishes you to wear. Do you need assistance getting undressed?’

‘N…no, I will do it myself, thank you?’

She bobbed and then said, ‘Please call me if I am needed.’

‘Do I call you Estelle?’

‘If it pleases you, Miss.’

‘This is all new to me, Estelle. Will you help me if I do anything wrong?’

‘Of course, Miss,’ she smiled, ‘I really am here to help you wherever and whenever I can.’

I got up and sat on the bed for a moment.

‘Estelle, you do know about my current position?’

‘Yes Miss, but to be honest, I saw you when you arrived and I thought that you were a girl then. Do not be upset, but you have the bones of a girl and a girl’s fine features and I thought it strange that you were wearing boy’s clothes.’

I shook my head.

‘Others have said the same. I am small for my age and do not always act as a boy should. Anyway, I will go and have the bath as I do not want to be late for the first dinner with my guardian.’

I stood up and nearly fell over. I was weaker than I thought. Estelle was instantly by my side and helped me cross the room and into the bathroom next door. There was a large bath in the centre of the room and the air was damp from the steam emanating from it.

‘I will help you, Miss, you are not strong yet.’

‘Thank you.’ I said as Estelle helped me remove my nightgown and then assisted me to get into the bath. The water was hot but not too hot and as I sank into its warm embrace, I felt myself relax somewhat.

‘I’ll be next door, Miss. Please call when you need me to scrub your back.’

‘Thank you, Estelle.’

Looking down on my body through the rippling water I could see that my member was small and the sac beneath nondescript. I had, on occasion, seen my father’s endowments and they put mine to shame. I had wondered why I had not grown as other boys had. My contemporaries all seemed more muscular and some had cracked voices. Evidently I had been a weakly child of a weakly mother. Just then Estelle came in. I made some attempts to cover myself but she just ignored me and scrubbed my back. I was somewhat embarrassed at the state of the water after I had finished my bath. It was no surprise that it was so dirty as I had not had a bath for several months. The tenement that my father and I had lived in did not boast a bath of any description. We were lucky to have even clean water to wash ourselves down with.

After my body was washed, I leaned forward as Estelle washed my hair. My hair was long as was the fashion and it took several rinses before she was satisfied that my hair was clean.

I was carefully dried using soft towels. My hair was dried last and it took some time to dry it. Whilst still damp, Estelle expressed some concern that we were taking far too long to get ready. She wrapped my hair in a towel to help it to dry quicker and then led me back to my bedroom, where on the bed lay several female garments — all of which, I dread to say, I was expected to wear.

Over the next half an hour, I almost regretted my promise to act and be a girl for my guardian. As a boy, dressing had been easy. The choices one had to make were not difficult and the time taken to don one’s clothes - minimal.

Firstly I was put into what is known as pantalets, a garment that was made of silk and covered my legs to just below the knee. Then a chemise which is a long loose thin dress-like garment without sleeves was placed over my head, it reached down to my knees.

‘Normally Miss you would need to wear a corset, but you are painfully thin and have been unwell, so Madam has said that it is not necessary at this time.’

I understood that a corset was a feminine garment that girls and women considered necessary even at a young age to wear, but I had heard that they were somewhat uncomfortable and I drew comfort that I would not have to endure its embrace. Perhaps I would never need one as I dearly hoped that I would be with the Fitzherberts by Christmas just a few weeks away.

After the chemise was adjusted around my body to Estelle’s satisfaction, I had to step into a crinoline petticoat, which was a stiff linen fabric with many pleats.

‘You are lucky Miss not to wear the petticoats woven with horsehair, they itched something fierce.’

I wondered at that observation and was indeed pleased that I did not have to wear such a thing. All these terms were of a foreign language to me as I was given layer upon layer to put on. Finally, I stepped into a lemon satin dress which came down midway between my ankles and knee, just above the pantalets. My figure in that dress looked something of an hourglass in shape. The dress had long tight diaphanous sleeves that accentuated the thinness of my arms and a round neck just covering my shoulders. It all felt fine and deliciously delicate. I wondered at my reaction to wearing these fine feminine clothes and then dismissed my thoughts, it was a means to an end and that was that.

A thin gold cross and chain was then placed around my neck and it felt cold against my smooth skin.

I was then sat on a stool with some difficulty as the skirts tended to billow out somewhat, while Estelle styled my hair. She parted my hair down the middle and then brushed my hair out until it fell onto my bare shoulders. She then put some ribbons in my hair that matched my dress exactly. It was rather nice having someone do all this for me and I appreciated all the effort she was taking even though I believed it to be a fruitless exercise, certain as I was that I would look unconvincing as a girl.

Once Estelle was satisfied that my hair was agreeable, she stood back and looked at the overall effect. I was not sure how I really looked as I was not permitted at this stage to look upon my reflection.

‘Yes Miss, you will do. If I had more time...well never mind.’

She came up close and looked at my face.

‘You are pale enough not to need much face powder but your nose is shiny, so close your eyes for a moment please.’

I nearly sneezed as she applied some powder to my face as I breathed in. I could hear her giggle and I could not help but smile.

‘Madam does not approve the wearing of much face powder or rouge. Your lips are full and red enough as it is, so we can forgo that for the moment. A little rouge on your cheeks for colour is all that is needed now.’

Using some sort of red paste, she applied a small amount to my cheeks, rubbing it in using circular motions. She then added a little more face powder and then professed herself satisfied.

‘Time is short. Please sit on the stool again, if you will.’

I acceded to her request and once again sat on the stool provided as Estelle fussed around me and made sure that I was as perfect as a boy in a dress could be.

Shiny black shoes with low heels were put upon my cream silk stockinged feet and then I was asked to stand up.

‘Well, Miss Roberta, I have done my best in the limited time that I have had. Would you like to see your reflection?’

‘Please.’ I said with some dread as I knew that I would be a laughing stock. Lady Cranmer would take one look at me and see that I was a hopeless case and send me away — I was convinced.

Estelle led me by the arm over to the full length mirror and I gazed at my reflection, but it was not my reflection it was one of a pretty young girl. The dress fell to mid calf and the beribboned pantalets could clearly be seen below. The girl’s waist was impossibly thin and the face, the face was so feminine and demure, it took a moment to fully realise that the vision before me was myself and no other!

I nearly fainted on the spot and it was only the arm of Estelle that stopped me from falling.

‘I am pretty,’ I whispered.

‘Yes you are Miss. That is what I have been telling you. You could not be a boy even if you wanted to be, but we have no time; hear the dinner gong? We must be away. It would not do to be late for your first dinner with your guardian.’

I followed her down the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister. The house seemed huge to one who was used to a small tenement room. The decorations were sumptuous; the staircase, wide and sweeping. There were many portraits upon the walls of people dressed in the clothes of ancient and modern past and I assumed that these were people who used to live in the great house. Looking up, I could see a huge chandelier, sparkling in the light and looking magical. I felt like I was in some sort of dream or fairytale as I walked down those stairs. I imagined myself to be a princess, not a boy. The clothes, whispered against my body giving me all sorts of signals that I should not have. It was all a bit overpowering and I had to stop for a moment to regain my breath.

‘Are you all right, Miss Roberta?’ asked Estelle in a voice full of concern.

‘Yes...I am sorry; it is all a bit much.’

‘You are doing fine Miss. Put your hand on the rail and I will hold your arm.’

She assisted me down the stairs and by the time we had reached the bottom, I had my feelings more in control.

At the bottom of the stairs was the lady who had brought me to this place. She was wearing a black dress and was looking at me. Her hand went up to her mouth when she saw how I looked. Was she laughing behind her hand? Was I ridiculous? I heeded the words of Estelle. I did not think that she would lie to me, but I did not know her well.

I came up to the lady I remembered as Grace and saw that she saw not laughing, just smiling.

‘Miss Roberta, you look...wonderful!’

‘Do you really think so?’ I asked.

‘Yes, a pretty picture. Now are you ready?’

‘Y...yes Ma’am, I think so.’

‘You must not call me Ma’am. You must call me Grace, Miss Roberta.’

‘I am sorry. I find all this a bit difficult at the moment.’

‘You will get used to it. I will now announce you. This will be the only time as you are the Ward of My Lady and are therefore family.’

Grace opened the double doors and walked in. I heard her say, ‘Miss Roberta, My Lady.’ and then she stepped aside.

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I walked into the room, most conscious of my appearance and not knowing what reaction I would receive.

It was a large room and along the centre was a long dining table. At the opposite end to where I was standing, two place settings had been laid. At the head of the table was Lady Cranmer and she was looking at me. She was dressed splendidly in a golden satin gown. Her hair was up and she had silver combs holding her hair in place. She looked breathtakingly beautiful and it made me wonder why any man would ever let her down.

I walked over to her following Grace as she showed me to my place. Sitting down carefully was a problem as the billowing dress had to be adjusted to my now seated form.

Nothing was said as I just sat with my hands on my lap. I was awaiting some form of response from my guardian as I sat there, but other than a nod and a slight smile playing on her lips, not a word was spoken.

Various items were put in front of me to eat and although I had been hungry before, I found that my appetite was somewhat lacking now. I remember several removes from soup to dessert, but although the food was superb, it was as if I was eating ashes. Many things went through my mind while the meal continued on its course, the utmost being that I had not had any reaction as yet to my appearance. I recalled, vividly seeing my reflection in the mirror and realising that I was...different to most boys of my age. Thinking back to times past, I had realised that I had been out of step with most if not all of my contemporaries.

How could I be a boy if I looked like this in a dress? I know a boy could look androgynous, but to this extent? I think not. I had been mistaken for a girl before, I remembered. Boys can be cruel and in the dim and distant past, I had been called names that made me blush with shame. My father, God rest his soul, often looked upon me and said that I reminded him of my Mama. Had I been punished by God for some reason? Why had I been given boys’ parts and the face and the figure of a girl?

After an interminable time, the servants withdrew and I was alone with my guardian. As the door closed she looked at me and smiled.

‘Well, Roberta, you look enchanting my dear.’

Looking at her, I wondered if she was making jest with me, but I could see from her demeanour that she was sincere.

‘Thank you Ma...Aunt Elizabeth.’

‘How do you feel about wearing such clothes — be truthful now. Nothing said in private will be passed on to another if you do not wish it so.’

I looked down at my dress, aware of the sweep of my hair and the feelings that I had, I could not tell her any sort of miss-truth, even if I were to be ridiculed.

‘Aunt, my feelings are somewhat strange. Is it right to feel like I am correctly dressed?’

‘What do you mean, Roberta?’

‘I...I have always thought that I was out of step with other boys. My looks were often mistaken for that of a girl. I had no interest in boys’ games or rough and tumble. My father always called me gentle and I reminded him of my dear Mama. Will God strike me down if I say what my heart feels?’

‘God is merciful and understanding. He has put you on this good Earth for a reason. He made you this way, so why do you think that you would be struck down?’

I gazed upon her lovely face; a face that has seen tragedy in her life that had left scars that had not healed. I owed it to her to tell the truth of my feelings, no matter what the consequences.

‘I...I find that... I feel most comfortable wearing these clothes and...and I...I wonder if I should have been born a girl.’

I did not look at her as I felt a single tear slip down my face and drop onto the lovely satin of my dress.

I heard a rustle and then she was by my side. She drew my head toward her as she embraced me warmly.

‘Oh Roberta, as soon as I saw you, there was something...something not quite right. I have known men and boys in the past and you did not seem like them. I am pleased that God and fate has brought you to my door. Whilst under this roof, you shall always be considered a girl, do you understand?’

I just nodded. I could not speak any words as emotion overtook me and I cried as I had never cried before. I cried for my lost father and the mother that I never knew. I cried for the years lost, never to be replaced, where I should have been a girl and not a boy. Finally I cried with happiness that I had found a lady who was willing to look after me and take me to her heart.

It was some moments before I was able to recollect myself. I had been led over to a sofa in the corner of the room and I sat by the side of my aunt as she helped to soothe me.

Using a pretty lace handkerchief, my aunt cleared away some of the ravages caused by my crying.

‘I must look terrible,’ I cried.

‘Spoken like a true girl. Your face is still beautiful, have no fear. Your face powder and cheeks may be in need of a little repair but nothing major is required. Now, we must speak of the future. I will be making enquiries regarding your parentage and whether you have any call on the Fitzherberts. They are a proud family and to be frank a little, shall we say stiff in their ways. I recall that some years ago there was a scandal regarding one of the children and I assume that would be your mother. She married badly and had a child out of wedlock, I assume that you are that child. What happened after that has not been disclosed. My woman of letters will write to Lord Fitzherbert as head of the family and see what can be done. They will be back in county on Christmas Eve and all should be sorted out by then. In the mean time, we will have a jolly time and come more acquainted with each other. How say you?’

‘I thank you Aunt for your kindness.’

‘Think nothing of it. At this festive time of the year, it is good to spread a little happiness. The fact that you are here with me, gives me joy. Now you are looking tired. It has been a long day. I think that you should retire and we will speak more of this in the morning.’

She stood up and I did the same, with some difficulty as I was not used to wearing such a dress and things seemed to get in the way!

She smiled as she held my hand.

‘It takes some getting used to, getting up and sitting down, with petticoats.’

‘Yes Aunt Elizabeth.’ I said, ‘Estelle told me that I should really be wearing corsets...’

‘Hmm, Estelle is of the old school, strange in one so young. I would not inflict that form of torture on you Roberta. You are as thin as a stick and the last thing you need is a corset. I am sure that they were invented by men to subjugate women. I do not wear a corset either, hang the consequences. I may get raised eyebrows occasionally, but I am not a slave to all the fashions that come from Paris and London. Anyway, you must retire now before I have to get Grace to carry you up!’

With that, she pulled a cord attached to the ceiling and a few moments later Grace herself came in.

‘I will see you later,’ said Aunt Elizabeth with a smile as I kissed her cheek.

Soon I was making my way upstairs on the arm of Grace.

‘M’Lady approves of you, I think,’ she said as we walked up.

‘Yes, she and everyone here are all so kind.’

‘It is our Christian duty to help others in need. However, it is a pleasure to help one such as you.’

When we arrived at my bedroom I was given over to the tender mercies of Estelle. I learned that getting undressed and ready for bed is almost as arduous as getting dressed. I was undressed by Estelle and this took some time as the layers were aplenty. Then I had to wash all the powder and paint off of my face. After that, some cream was applied on my face to keep it supple and then I was put into a clean nightgown and bonnet, in which my hair was carefully placed and then the ribbons tied under my chin with a bow.

It was only then that I was allowed to say my prayers and then get into the soft bed, heated by a warming pan.

‘Well, Miss Roberta. What do you think of the day?’

‘Very well thank you. I have found out things about myself and have been helped by you and everyone. Aunt Elizabeth is a lovely lady and I am so pleased to be her Ward, even though I know that it is for a short time before I hopefully join my family.’

I could see a slight frown cross Estelle’s face but took no notice as I was feeling rather sleepy. Just then Aunt Elizabeth came in and with a curtsy, Estelle left us alone.

‘Well, Roberta, how are you feeling my dear?’

‘Tired but happy; thank you.’

She sat down beside me. She had something in a cloth bag and she placed it on the floor beside her.

‘You look quite warm and comfortable there. This used to be my room when I was your age and it brings back happy memories. It is nice to see it occupied once again.’

‘It is a lovely room and this bed is the best one that I have ever slept in.’

‘You have had a harsh life, Roberta. Let us hope that this is the beginning of a new time of happiness for you. Do you miss your Mother and Father?’

‘My Father more than my Mother, I suppose that is because she is a more distant memory for me. I still feel sorrow for my Father and wish that he was still with me.’

‘It is a terrible thing to lose someone you love. I see that you cannot keep your eyes open.’

She picked up a bag from the floor and handed it to me.

‘When I was child, my mother gave me this and I want you to have it.’

I opened the bag and gasped as I pulled out a doll. It was of a young girl and she had a pretty face made of some hard material and a soft body. She was wearing clothes that were old fashioned by today’s standards, but very pretty.

‘I cannot have this Aunt, it is yours and your mother gave it to you.’

‘I have other dolls and I would like to think that this one can give you pleasure, even though you are perhaps getting a little old for dolls. It would not harm you to feel a little of the childhood you never had.’

‘Oh thank you Aunt Elizabeth!’

I sat up and without thinking gave her a big hug and kiss and then fell back, wondering if I might have overstepped my mark. Judging by the flushed look on her cheek and tears in her eyes, I do not think that she minded too much!

She leant down and kissed me.

‘Goodnight child. Sleep well, we will talk tomorrow.’

With heavy eyes, my new doll safely secured under my arm, I smiled as my eyes seemed to drop...I remember muttering, ‘goodnight Aunt,’ and then I knew no more.

The next twenty days were wonderful for me and I could not be happier. My Aunt was gentle and kind and spent much of her time with me. We read together and walked through the grounds together and I even got to ride her pony, side-saddle, which was strange but very enjoyable.

I was amazed at the different types of clothes that I had to wear, depending on the occasion. Day dress, evening dress, tea dress or gown, all with wonderful fabrics like satin, lace and silk. The more I wore such wonderful concoctions the more I liked it. Being immersed in femininity soon stripped away any vestiges of my male past.

It amazed me that girls wore so many layers, such as drawers, chemise, and petticoats —sometimes more than one depending on the occasion.

Estelle was the one who taught me how to walk and dress and be more feminine. I had to walk about on regular occasions with a book upon my head so that my deportment could be improved. There were many things that she pulled me up on and I got heartily sick of being told to sit up straight and not slouch, walk with my head held high, don’t swing your arms about like a navvy.

Then there were cleanliness issues. My aunt was of the modern opinion that cleanliness was next to Godliness. I was expected to bathe every day and wash my hair every other. Before going to bed, I was to wash all vestiges of paint and powder from my face and put cream on to help keep my face clear and blemish free. Think of the horror, when one day, I actually found a spot on the side of my nose. Luckily, this could be hidden by the judiciousl use of face powder though.

On the first Sunday following my rescue on the road, my aunt took me to church. I was somewhat apprehensive as I had not ventured out in public dressed in all my finery and it was with some dread that Estelle helped me get ready for the coming ordeal.

The dress I was to wear was a gray one made of calico, with a tight waist and buttoned at the back. Under this were the usual stiff petticoats, silk chemise and pantalets. Silk stockings coveredthe otherwise bare legs. Black ankle boots were double tied and were needed as the weather outside was somewhat inclement. Over my dress I wore a red cape and bonnet and matching muff to keep my hands warm.

As the carriage drove up to the church, I wondered what reception that I would be given. As usual, Aunt Elizabeth looked strikingly lovely in a maroon dress, cape and bonnet.

‘Do not worry, Roberta, I have already sent a note to the vicar that my Ward will be going to church today and no doubt that information will be circulated among the congregation, long before we arrive. Now don’t pick at your dress, it looks very nice without your interference!’

We got out of the coach and I immediately saw a number of people milling outside the vestibule. There were many glances in my direction as I followed Aunt Elizabeth as she entered the building. She said hello to a number of people and many either bowed or curtsied. She did not introduce me to anyone and I just followed her in.

We made our way to the front of the church and sat in special pews, reserved for members of her family.

After a short while, the church filled with the congregation and the service began. The vicar led the choir in as a hymn was sung. There were a number of Christmas Hymns and readings from the bible and then the vicar read his sermon. I must admit that I did not follow much of the sermon as it seemed to concentrate on sins and sinners and the reading of banns. I was brought back to the present though, when I heard Aunt Elizabeth mentioned.

‘Lady Cranmer has graced us with her presence today and we would particularly like to welcome her Ward, Roberta, who is staying with her at present. And now, please rise as we sing, Once In Royal David’s City.’

Soon the service was over and we made our way out of the church. My Aunt shook the hand of the Vicar.

‘Thank you for those kind words about my Ward.’

‘Think nothing of it My Lady. So, young lady, you are the Roberta that everyone is talking about?’

‘Yes sir,’ I said as I bobbed and shook his hand.

‘Well you are as pretty as a picture. I hope that you are able to stay in the parish for some time.’

‘Thank you sir, but I move on to my family in a short while.’

‘Well, let us hope that you can visit us at some other time.’

I bobbed again and then my Aunt, with a nod at the vicar took my elbow and led me towards the waiting coach.

We did not converse with anyone and my Aunt just nodded at acquaintances as we found our way to the coach.

I could see other children looking at me with frank curiosity but I followed my Aunt’s lead and just nodded toward them and smiled.

The coachman — for this was one of the few males to work for my aunt, opened the door for us and assisted us into the coach.

We made ourselves comfortable with rugs to keep off the chill as we drove back to Patcham Manor.

‘Well Roberta, what do you think of the church?’

‘Very nice,’ I replied.

‘Yes, the vicar is not too bad for a man. He is sincere and his heart is in the right place. You may have noticed that I did not speak to anyone else. That is because I did not want to answer any questions about you that may cause you any anxiety. We will soon be home and I think that some mulled wine would be in order — purely for medicinal purposes of course!’

I did wonder in those following days what had been said about me. Did the locals know of my situation or did they believe that I was a relative of Aunt Elizabeth? Eventually I thought nothing of it. Soon I would be away from this place and with my blood family. Aunt Elizabeth had not received a reply to her letters regarding my situation but felt sure that when the circumstances were known, I would be welcomed. The problem was that now I had tasted the delights of femininity I had no wish to return to being a boy. I hoped that the Fitzherberts would welcome me no matter how I presented myself. However, if necessary, I would return to being a boy, even though I knew that it would break my heart.

I had grown to love being a girl. I realised that inside I always was a girl. How I would explain this to my estranged family, I did not know but I had a duty to my Father. I had promised to be reconciled to my family and I would do so, whatever the cost.

This left a large hole in my heart. I had grown to love my aunt as indeed I had all of the kind people at Patcham Manor. My aunt had always said that this arrangement was temporary but I knew that she had strong feelings for me. My impression was that she did not want to come between my family and me. That she had some reservations about whether they would accept me or not, was clear by her tone and the fact that she did not want to get my hopes up, lest they be dashed at the last moment.

The days passed all too fast and it was on the morning of Christmas Eve that I arose for the last time from the bed that I had grown to love. The room seemed to me as if it had always been mine and I knew every nook and cranny in the short time that I had lived here.

Estelle knocked and entered.

‘Good morning Miss,’ she said with a bob.

‘Good morning Estelle.’

‘This is your last morning here. I will so miss my helping you.’

‘It saddens me also, Estelle. Perhaps I will be allowed to visit sometimes.’

‘That would be wonderful Miss,’ she sniffed. She looked as if she might cry and I must confess that I was close to tears myself.’

I dressed in a maroon calico dress, one of the ones that my aunt had had made up for me. It had ribbons and bows on it and was very pretty. Soon I went downstairs and had breakfast with my aunt for the final time.

We were both somewhat quiet as we ate our meal, I did not do justice to the devilled kidneys, eggs, bacon, sausages and tomatoes. My Aunt also appeared to have lost her appetite. She had a chill and that meant that on doctor’s orders, she should not accompany me to my new home. I think that it irked her somewhat to take orders from a man, but she bore it without compliant.

Aunt Elizabeth had received a communication from Lady Fitzherbert the previous day expressing her wish to see me at Preston Park, the country seat of the family. I was to be taken there to arrive at twelve. The letter was brief but made clear that I was to come to live with them.

It was a sad time shortly after breakfast that I took my leave of Patcham. I was in tears at the thought of leaving everyone, especially my aunt. I bade farewell to her in the library.

‘Well Roberta, it seems that you have been accepted by the Fitzherberts. They are aware that you are a girl and that your parents have both died. I will miss you more than I can say. If you can, come visit, you will always be welcome. Now go before we both disgrace ourselves with flights of emotion.’

I rushed into her arms for a final hug and then picking up my small bag where resided a few personal things and my doll that I secretly named Emma after my mother, I left her and made my way through the house and out onto the drive where the coachman awaited me. Standing on the steps were a number of the staff and I nearly lost all my composure as I said goodbye to them all. Grace was to accompany me and she waited by the carriage while I said my final goodbyes to Estelle.

She bobbed and then took my hands.

‘Miss, if I may be so bold, I am so sorry to see you go.’

‘Yes,’ I sniffed, fighting back my tears, ‘you have been a true friend and have helped me more than I can say. I will try to visit if my family allow it....goodbye!’

I turned quickly and climbed up into the carriage. Grace followed me in and arranged a rug around me, lest I feel the cold. As the carriage moved away, I waved at the people standing there; people that had been so nice to a poor refugee and had taken him, now her into their hearts. I looked across to the library and could see the still form of Aunt Elizabeth standing by the window as I once again waved as we turned a corner and the house disappeared from my view.

I said little as we passed the trees, fields, hamlets and villages on that journey. The day was crisp and clear and there was frost on the trees and bushes. The sky was clear with not a cloud in sight. I was warm enough in the coach as I was wearing the same clothes as I had changed into the same clothes that I had worn to the church: the gray calico dress, red cape and bonnet, some lace gloves and my muff, attached with ribbon around my neck.

Eventually, after an hour, we came to some huge gates. We swung in and went up a long gravel drive that led up to the huge buildings of Preston Park. By this time clouds had appeared in the sky and it threatened snow. The temperature had dropped considerably and Grace kept looking at the sky and frowning.

As we drove closer, Grace spoke.

‘Well Miss Roberta, it is nearly time to say goodbye. Because of the weather, I will get Jim to turn the coach around and head straight back to Patcham.’

She leant across and held my hands.

‘Be good for your grandparents and do all they say. I am so happy that they have accepted you into the family and I so hope that you will be contented. If you can, please visit often. I know that your aunt and all of us will want to see you.’

‘Thank you so much for helping me when I was needy and taking me back to Patcham and being so kind. I will miss you all so much.’

Once again, I felt tears form in the corners of my eyes and it was all that I could do not to fall upon her and cry my eyes out. I could see by her face that she too was much affected by our farewells.

When the coach stopped, a manservant assisted me out of the coach, but did not utter any sort of welcome.

It had not been easy for me to leave the coach with my small bag and valise and finally watch them go away. I fought back the tears with some difficulty.

The coachman had left a trunk for the servants to carry in. I was somewhat surprised that none of the family had come to greet me.

‘Please come this way,’ said the servant.

I followed him up the steps and into the house. All the time I looked for someone from the family to come and greet me, but I was not conversant with the ways of gentry so I assumed that this was all normal.

The hallway was huge with many doors off of it. The decorations were, if anything more sumptuous than Patcham Manor and I felt a little intimidated by the size and dimensions of this place. It was also quite cold and even muffed up as I was, I could still feel the chill in the air.

I was led to a room and asked to go in.

‘Please wait here.’

He said this without a smile or any expression on his face. It was a distinctly different welcome to the one I had had at Patcham.

The room was austere with a few chairs and a table in the middle, several portraits on the walls and a huge unlit fireplace that dominated the room. I pulled my cape closer around my shoulders and then put my hands in the fur of my muff. Going over to the window, I could see the park outside with hard frost still on the ground. The sky was getting darker and it very much looked like there was some foul weather on the way. I prayed that Grace and Jim would find their way home before the weather broke.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and I turned from the window. The same servant came in.

‘Please follow me.’

He led the way out of the room, across the hall and over to another room. He opened the door and motioned me to go in. With my heart in my mouth I went hesitantly into the room. This was the time when I would meet my grandparents for the first time; I hoped that they would treat me a bit warmer than my experience here thus far.

Standing by a roaring fireplace was a man. He was large in every way and had a drink in his hand. He looked quite solemn and severe. His face was florid and blotchy. I had seen that look in the tenements. It was the look of someone who drank to excess. Sitting in a chair nearby was a lady of a similar age to the man, I would say between forty and fifty, extremely thin with a pinched sour look upon her face and wearing a black dress. She too had a glass in her hand and was looking at me without any expression. Were these my grandparents, they did not look anything like the remembrance I had of my mother?

I stood before them and bob’d. The man’s brow furrowed as he looked at me.

‘Take your coat and bonnet off child.’

I did as I was bade and put them on a seat nearby and then returned to where I was standing before.

‘So, it is true. You dress as a girl.’

‘Yes sir.’

And why do you dress as a girl?’

‘Because I am one sir.’

‘My daughter had a son, I believe. Are you playing games with me?’

‘No Sir, I am a girl but was born a boy.’

‘So the strange letter we received from Lady Cranmer stated. My wife and I could not understand why any boy would want to masquerade as a girl. Are you an imposter?’

‘No sir, I...I am not.’

‘What was your mother’s name?’

‘Emma, Sir, Emma Fitzherbert Sir.’

‘And your Father’s?

‘Edward Fellows Sir.’

‘So you are Robert Fellows.’

‘No Sir, Roberta Fellows.’

‘You persist in this?’

‘In what Sir?’

‘Do not be impertinent...’

‘I must away David,’ said the lady speaking up for the first time.

‘We agree?’

‘Yes, deal with the matter as we discussed.’

‘Very well, my dear.’

The lady stood up, gave me a long hard stare and then without further comment left the room.

Lord Fitzherbert looked at me again and then took a sip of his drink.

‘Do you know why my wife wears black?’

‘No Sir.’

‘Because she grieves for her daughter Emma. As far as this family is concerned, your mother died when she ran off with your father. My wife has worn black ever since. What say you to that?’

‘I am very sorry sir that she still grieves for her daughter.’

‘How old are you.’

‘Twelve sir.’

‘So you are a twelve year old boy dressed as a girl.’

‘I am a girl sir.’

‘You still persist in this?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Were you christened a boy?’

‘Y...Yes sir.’

‘In that case you are a boy. Perhaps your father didn’t beat you enough to allow such flights of fancy.’

‘Sir, I am sorry if I have offended you...’

‘You do offend me,’ he roared making me take a step back. He had a crop in his hand and I thought that he might use it on me, ‘you offend my decency sir. You offend the name of Fitzherbert sir. You offend God in this blasphemy.’

I was crying now, tears running down my face. I did not know what caused my grandfather to speak like this to me and was confused and very frightened of this obviously violent man.

‘Well, you cry like a girl and you look like a girl, perhaps you are one. Be that as it may. You will have to be dealt with.’

He calmed down somewhat, went over to a decanter and poured another drink for himself. He gulped it down in one and then repeated his action.

I was still standing in the middle of the room, trembling and crying. The shock of knowing that my grandparents did not accept me after all left me distraught.

My grandfather went and sat down in the seat recently vacated by his wife. He looked at me again with no expression. He frightened me, not only because he had shown extreme anger, but the fact that he was able to control his emotions so quickly and was again the cold person that I had seen when I entered the room.

‘This family will not have a scandal on its hands. As head of the family, I have to deal with this problem in a way that protects the family. You were born out of wedlock; do you know what that means?’

‘N...no sir.’

‘It means that your mother gave birth to you before she was married to your father. That alone would make it impossible for you to be accepted as a member of this family. We cut your mother off without a penny when she ran off with your father. Why should we accord you any status when we had to do this thing to her?’

‘Does that m...’

‘BE QUIET SIR! Not only are you a love child of a disinherited daughter; you also to add a further crime to your character by dressing and acting inappropriately for a boy. Real boys do not dress as you do sir. This means that you are obviously mad — another reason for you not to be allowed membership of this illustrious family. We permitted Lady Cranmer’s request to have you here as we can now deal with you on our terms. If word got about that you were my grandchild and calling yourself a girl, we would be the laughingstock of society. Therefore you will be sent away.’

‘Sent away sir?’

‘Yes sir, sent away. All you see around you and the family fortune was obtained by trading in slavery. The fact the slavery is frowned upon in England is a grave disappointment and an abomination. However, I have several estates in the Americas where slaves are, shall we say, employed. You will be sent there, as a boy a not a girl and you will be trained to do useful work. If you are lucky and not knocked on the head, you may have a life out there.’

‘Sir, you cannot mean...’

He smiled a cruel smile.

‘I am your grandfather, am I not? I am your next of kin. I have power and control over you for your own good. Obviously you are ill. What child would present himself as a girl if he was in his senses? I will be sending you to America for your own good.’

He rang a bell cord and the servant came in again.

‘Pick up those clothes child and take them with you. I will arrange for the correct clothing to be supplied to you after Christmas. Forbes, take this person and find a room where he can stay the night. For his protection; lock the door.’

‘Yes M’lord.’

My grandfather turned to me for the final time.

‘I will not see you again. It is only my Christian charity that I use mercy on you. My instinct is to have you taken to a place where you will dealt with on a more permanent basis like I would with any sick animal. However, blood, all be it somewhat diluted, is thicker than water and for the sake of my wife, I will give you this one chance. However, you will never be accepted by this family and you will live whatever life you have left, far from these shores. The Lord will decide whether you survive the crossing. At this time of year, storms are frequent. Make no mistake though, if you do survive and you ever try to return or use the Fitzherbert name for advantage, I will have you hunted down and killed like a rabid dog. Do you understand?’

I looked at him and saw an unnatural and intense hatred in his eyes. I said nothing; nothing could be said after such a bitter diatribe. With a sob and tears coursing down my face, I just turned away. I had just been rejected by my family in the most horrible way and my world had fallen apart...

I felt a terrible pain across my shoulders. I had been whipped with his crop.

I fell to the ground in great pain and he towered over me.

‘Answer me child, do you understand?’

I was in too much pain to utter a word and just nodded.

‘Take it away.’

He turned his back on me as I was pulled up roughly and taken out of the room by my arm.

I was taken downstairs, through some doors and along corridors until we came to a plain door. There was a key in the door, which was unlocked. I was then pushed into the room and without a word, the servant shut the door behind me and locked it again.

I fell to the floor and cried with such tears that my body was racked with the pain and emotion caused by such cruel rejection.

It was some time before I could collect myself, but after a time, my tears dried and I just sat upon the floor, emotionally drained. I had no rational thought at that point except that it might have been better for my grandfather to do away with me then and there rather than suffer such agonies that I would no doubt be having over the next days, months and years; that is if I survived that long.

Increasingly, I was aware of the pains in my shoulders, where I had been cruelly whipped and that brought my morose thoughts back to the present.

I stood up, brushed down my skirt and walked over to the window. I could not see much as the window was below ground level. Outside was a small open passage and some steps that led up, I assumed to the courtyard at the back of the building. There was no door from this room though, only the sash window. I tried pulling the window up, but it was stuck with paint and could not be moved.

I went over to the door and tried the handle; the door was locked. I was a prisoner with no hope of escape.

The room was bare apart from a wooden table and chair in the corner. Going over to where my cape, bonnet and muff were, I picked them up, brushed them off and placed them on the table. Then I sat at the table and put my head in my hands. I was aware of the throbbing pain in my shoulders but tried my best to ignore the discomfort. I must have fallen asleep as the next thing I knew was hearing the scrape of a key in the door lock.

Pulling the hair from my eyes, I sat up straight.

The door opened and a maid came in. She had a tray with bread on it and a jug.

She did not look me in the eye and just put the tray on the table and left.

‘Please,’ I said to her retreating back, ‘Can you...’

She just shut the door and I could hear her hurrying steps go away from me.

With a sigh, I looked at the tray. The bread looked dry and the jug contained water. I chewed on the bread and washed it down with water. The meal, such as it was, assuaged my hunger pangs and I was soon sitting staring at the walls. I wondered how things were at Patcham Manor and whether Aunt Elizabeth and the others were thinking of me.

I shook my head, not wanting to think of such things. I was out of their lives now and my new life, however brief would be somewhat different and much harsher.

Two further times, I was given bread and water by the same maid. She had a frightened, almost haunted look on her face. But this time she spoke.

‘The master says this is the last food and drink that you are to have today and that you will be taken from here tomorrow.’

‘I have no bed.’

‘You must sleep on the floor then. I have said too much. I must go.’

With another frightened look, she hurried out and closed the door behind me.

There was a bucket over in the corner and I had to use it to relieve myself. This was difficult as I was still wearing my dress. Somehow I managed but felt dirty afterwards.

Looking out of the window, it was now quite dark. A few flakes of snow had dropped earlier, but from my limited viewpoint; it had not settled or amounted to much.

There was something in the back of my mind that troubled me somewhat and I could not put my finger on it. I paced the room, wondering what it was and then I stopped, realising suddenly what it was that was causing me some disquiet. The key — I had not heard the key turn in the lock, the last time the maid came went out!

I quickly went over to the door and turned the brass knob. Pushing the door, it opened!

I put my head around the doorway. It was rather dark, with just a few gas lamps to light the corridor and I could see that there was no one around. It seemed by the general shabbiness of my room and the corridor, that this was a part of the house not in use. Going back into the room, I sat down and thought about what this development could mean.

It took a moment to realise that I had to try to escape. The alternative would be unimaginable. I did not believe that anyone would come back into the room this evening and that meant that if I could find a way out of the house, I might be able to get away and hide somewhere until the coast was clear.

I put on my bonnet and cape, knowing that the weather would be bitterly cold outside. The ribbons of my muff I placed around my neck and I was ready. I took another drink of water, looked around the room and then, after checking that the coast was clear, I stole away from the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. The key was still in the door and as an afterthought, I turned the key in the lock and removed it. It might give me extra precious seconds if they had to hunt for the key, come morning.

In the gloom, I could see several doors to the left and right of me. I tried a few and then on the third one, the door opened. I was correct in my assumption that this part of the house was empty, as I could hear no sounds emanating from any of the rooms including the one that I had now, with some hesitation, entered.

The room itself was similar to the one that I had been imprisoned in. The difference being this had a door that led to the passage outside. I truly believe that God was with me that night as I saw that the door had a key in it and it was a matter of moments before I turned it, removed the key and let myself out into the cold passage.

Closing the door behind me, I put the key in and turned the lock. Removing the key again, I walked down the passage. It led to some open steps and with care, I climbed up. They were somewhat slippery from ice and slush so I made sure to hold on to the rail imbedded on the wall.

As I reached the top, I realised that I was correct in the assumption that I was at the back of the building. I was in a courtyard. Over to the left were some stables and I could hear horses from within making small noises. There was no one about on this night. I assumed that the horses had been dealt with earlier and the grooms and other staff were preparing for Christmas or perhaps drinking at the public house.

I silently made my way across the courtyard and just made it to the exit when I heard a noise behind me. I immediately shrank down behind a small wall where logs had been stacked, when I saw someone come across the courtyard. He was weaving and staggering about a bit and had a jug in his hand. He opened another door and went inside.

For a few moments, barely breathing, I awaited the return of the man. Then as I was starting to feel rather cold, I took the chance and removed myself from my concealment and went through the arch that led to the drive outside. I could see quite well now as the moon had risen, casting a pale glow on the surrounding house and park. There were patches of snow dotted about and at other times I would think that it was rather lovely to look upon, but my only consideration now was to get as far away as possible before the sun rose in the morning. I was convinced that I would be done away with, if caught.

Keeping to the edges of the drive where trees and bushes were, I went around to the front of the house. Many windows glowed from the lights within and I could hear laughter and music. I caught sight of several servants around the front of the house near the entrance and it was obvious that some sort of party or function was taking place by the number of horses and carriages that lined the drive.

In one way this was to my advantage as no one could hear if I made a sound, but with the number of people in sight, I was concerned that I might be seen. I therefore kept in the shadows as I made my getaway.

Soon, the sounds receded and I could breathe more easily. Eventually, the house went from my sight and I went quicker as I was now able to walk on the harder surface of the drive. It was then that I realised how cold it was. I shivered as I pulled my cape close around me and then put my hands in my muff. It helped that I was now walking quicker and I soon became warmer with the exercise.

It seemed an age for me to arrive at the gatehouse. There was a light coming from one of the rooms but curtains were drawn, so after making sure that there was no one about, I opened the side gate and slipped out and onto the road.

The first thing I did was to throw the two keys as far as I could into a field then I continued my solitary journey.

I seemed to walk for an age and as I walked, I formulated some sort of plan. I would return to Patcham somehow and ask for the help of Aunt Elizabeth. I knew the distance to be about ten miles but I did not know how long this would take me on foot. I dare not ask for assistance from anyone on the road, lest they be in the employ of Lord Fitzherbert.

I walked for some time. Occasionally I hid in the bushes when carriages or horses came past but in the main the roads were quiet. Once I saw a fox cross my path and then a pheasant startled me when it took flight at my passing, other than that, it was as if the countryside was asleep, awaiting the dawn of a new day — Christmas Day.

Eventually, I came across the village of Withdean. On the edge of the village was the church. I could see some bright lights and hear the sound of carol singing. On a whim, I stole across the churchyard and stood in the shadows as I heard the choir and congregation singing Christmas hymns. Hark the Herald Angels Sing made me smile and feel warm inside and then the pure simple clean beauty of the soprano soloist as he sang Silent Night brought tears to my eyes.

I could no longer stay there. It was possible that I may be discovered, so I left that place of peace and goodwill and continued my solitary journey.

Having stopped for some moments, I was once again quite cold. I moved as fast as I could so that I might warm up as soon as possible.

I wanted to rest after an hour as I was getting very tired, but knew that if I did that, I might not be able to start again. I did stop a few times but the cold made me continue on my way after only a short break. Then the clouds covered the moon and it was getting rather difficult to see. I put one foot in front of the other and continued on as best I could. After a further hour of this, it started to rain and then shortly after, snow.

As the flakes fell I felt even colder as I continued my long journey. By my reckoning I had been on the road at least four hours but time may have been playing tricks on me. I had not seen or heard another human being for some time now and I felt, as the snow covered everything in a crisp white blanket, as if I was alone in the world.

It was getting somewhat difficult to see where the road ended and the fields and verges began, but I was lucky in as much as the road was, in the main, bordered by hedges. I did go wrong a few times and I confessed to panicking when I lost my way, but I soon found the road again. However things did not seem right and when I came across some footprints, nearly buried in the snow, I realised that I had been retracing my steps. I therefore turned about and continued on my weary way.

It was a journey that will stay in my memory all my life. Ten miles may not seem much in a horse and carriage but by foot in the dark with snow falling all about it was like nothing I had ever experienced in my short life.

I was tired, cold and my feet had lost some feeling and my face was chapped and numb. My lips were cracked and I had to keep wetting them with my tongue to afford some relief from the stinging pain. My shoulders ached from the thrashing I had received from my Grandfather and I felt that I might perish if I stopped. I wanted so much to fall upon the ground, curl up and sleep, but something kept me going.

As I stumbled along, I thought that I saw my dear father and mother in the distance beckoning me. They were dressed in the finest of clothes and looked happy. They kept beckoning me and I followed them as I fast as my tired legs could take me.

Somehow, I found my feet on familiar ground. I looked around and my parents had gone. I knew where I was now and my pace quickened as I went up the drive toward the darkened house and I knocked on the door. It sounded deafeningly loud in the quiet of the snow-shrouded night - loud enough to wake the dead.

I fell onto my knees then and knew that if there was no answer I would surely perish.

I heard a noise. It was the sound of bolts being drawn back.

The door cracked open on a chain and I heard the dear sweet voice of Grace.

‘W...Who is there?’

‘Grace,’ I whispered.

‘Who is there I say, I have a gun!’

After swallowing I found my voice.

‘Grace!’

‘What...What, Miss Roberta?’

I could hear the chain being taken off and the door opened. Grace was standing there in her nightgown and curlers, candlestick in her hand. She looked down upon me with horror.

‘ROBERTA!’

I sank to the ground and felt myself slip away.

I awoke some time later and I was in my familiar bedroom. The bed felt warm and my aches and pains were not troubling me too much. My aunt was sitting by my bed reading a book. She looked up as I moved and smiled that beautiful smile when she realised that I was awake.

‘Roberta, how are you child?’

‘Better for seeing you Aunt.’

‘Are you in pain?’

‘No - well not much anyway.’

‘Are you able to speak of things?’

‘Yes, if you wish it.’

‘I have a clue as to what has happened to you and the shame will be with me until my dying day that I actually let you get into the hands of that monster. I have had people out looking for you. But enough; please tell me all you can about how you came here this night.’

I told her all that had happened to me and what I have already described to you, my dear reader. My Aunt interrupted several times and exclaimed some horror more than several, but at last my tale ended and she knew all.

The explanation tired me greatly.

‘Well, my dear, you must sleep now. We will talk of this in the morning. The doctor saw you whilst you were indisposed. He is a new doctor and seems to have more sense than the other one. I have hopes for him. Anyway, he has dressed your wounds and has declared that you are stronger than you look. There are other issues he discovered but we will discuss this tomorrow. It is certainly nothing for you to be worried about.’

I sat up suddenly.

‘You will not send me back Aunt, please say you won’t?’

‘I will not. You are safe and at home and if you wish it to be, it will always be your home.’

‘I do Aunt, oh I do, and I wish it more than anything.’

‘Then fret no more, my dear. Sleep now, in a few hours it will be Christmas Day.’

She kissed me on the forehead, snuffed out the candles and left me to sleep.

The next morning I awoke to the sounds of curtains being drawn back.

I opened my eyes and blinked in the sunlight streaming through the window.

‘Estelle?’

‘Yes Miss. I am so glad to see you again. That monster...well I must not speak further. M’lady asks if you are well enough to breakfast with her?’

‘Yes, I think so. I am somewhat stiff and ache in places, but I would dearly like to go down.’

‘Very well Miss. I have drawn a bath for you. I will help you, if I may.’

Being a little weak from my ordeal, I was grateful for Estelle’s assistance in getting me undressed and into the bath. I winced slightly as my shoulders were somewhat painful and I could hear Estelle’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of my somewhat battered body. However, she kept her own counsel and then left me to soak while she prepared some clothes for me to wear.

It almost seemed like a bad dream or nightmare, the things that had taken place on the previous day. Only the aches and pains in my body and understandable weariness gave testament to all I had suffered on Christmas Eve.

Soon, Estelle returned and helped wash my body most tenderly and then my hair. Soon I was clean and dry and I was dressed by the gentle Estelle. Today, in consideration of my wounds, I was dressed in a loose cream silk gown with just an under slip and drawers. I was grateful for constricting garments would have been a torture for me at the moment. My hair was brushed carefully and ribbons were entwined in a most pleasing way. Slippers were placed on my sore feet and then Estelle professed the opinion that I looked lovely and ready to go to breakfast.

As I walked into the dining room, I was somewhat surprised to find in addition to my Aunt, a man standing by the fire with his back towards it.

My Aunt looked up as she saw me.

‘Ah Roberta, you are feeling better?’

‘Yes Aunt Elizabeth.’

‘And you feel no discomfort wearing those clothes?’

‘No, they are beautiful and comfortable too!’

She smiled and then looked over to the man.

‘This is Doctor Wyatt; he tended your wounds when you arrived last night.’

‘Thank you sir, for looking after me.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ he smiled. It was a warm smile and I thought him quite handsome.

‘Come,’ said my Aunt rising from her chair by the fire, ‘let us have breakfast. Doctor Wyatt has kindly agreed to join us.’

The doctor first helped my Aunt to seat herself and then to my blushes, did the same with me.

He then sat opposite me and we were served breakfast by Molly and Beth, two of the maids; very nice girls, but apt to giggle at importune moments.

As was the custom of the house, nothing of any import was said whilst not in private. Once we were left alone however my Aunt spoke of matters important to me.

‘Roberta, I said to you last night that you shall not leave us again unless you wish it. I have discussed this matter with Doctor Wyatt here and he will talk of his involvement shortly. Are you well enough to speak of matters that may upset you?’

‘Yes Aunt, please let me know what will come of me.’

‘Lord Fitzherbert was a powerful man and had the ears of the government. You need to know this before I tell you what has been agreed. After Grace returned from Preston Park, she said things that worried me somewhat. The fact that you were not greeted by your grandparents and the surly nature of the servant that did come and help with your luggage, concerned me greatly. One of our scullery maids, Lizzie, used to work for the Fitzherberts and I called for her. I must admit, I had no inkling of the type of person he was, otherwise you would never have been sent to him.’

She stopped for a moment and drank some coffee and then continued.

‘Lizzie, after I told her that she would not be in trouble if she told me the truth, explained that the household was not a happy one. The Master drank to excess and he seemed to delight in using force to get his way. Lizzie herself had been beaten several times during her work there. Lady Fitzherbert is a weak woman - how I despise that - and she never contradicted her husband. The servants are treated like slaves, paid very little and fed on scraps. He kept them by some hold that he may have upon them, such as an indiscretion or past misdemeanours. Lizzie herself had a problem that I will not discuss at table and I accepted her when she ran from there. As I say, I knew that Fitzherbert was a hard man, but I did not think that he was a cad, a bully and a coward.’

‘You should not blame yourself Lady Cranmer. He kept his secrets well.’

‘You may be right doctor. Anyway, after the doctor came to see you last night, he kindly agreed to be my emissary and rode to Preston Park with a letter from me. Doctor, perhaps you can tell Roberta what happened next?’

‘Of course,’ he turned to me and smiled. It was a nice smile and made me feel warm inside.

‘It was late, but the house was up and about. I believe that your escape had been discovered as there were servants searching the grounds. After presenting my card, I was admitted to the study where Lord and Lady Fitzherbert were talking animatedly to a servant. I was surprised at that point at how, shall we say, Lord Fitzherbert was. I would say that he was close to seizure as, despite my presence he was laying into the poor servant. I think if I had not been there, he would have hit him. Eventually the poor man left and he turned to me.

‘Yes, what is it?’ he snapped.

‘I replied by saying that I had an urgent letter from Lady Cranmer that needed a response. I held out the letter and he snatched it from my hand. Tearing open the sealed envelope, he pulled out the letter and read the contents.’

‘What is this?’ he cried and then as I feared, he seemed to swell and then collapsed on the floor. I tended him and got the servants to take him to his bed, no mean feat as he is a heavy man - a moment, if you please.’

He poured himself some more coffee as I looked at my Aunt. She took my hand and smiled.

‘When he was in bed, I examined him fully. It appeared that he had a stroke and was not able to communicate with me. This is not unusual in cases like this. I left him as comfortable as I could and left the servant with some medication for him to take and then went down to see Lady Fitzherbert again. She had not moved but looked up when I came in.’

‘Is he dead?’ she asked.

‘No, M’lady,’ I replied.

‘Pity.’

‘I was shocked at her utterance and could not believe my own ears.’

‘M’lady?’

‘I rue the day I ever met him. He beats me mentally, verbally and physically. The staff cannot stand him and are afraid of him. I have read the letter from Lady Cranmer and was shocked myself. I do not wish to see the boy again, he reminds me too much of Emma, but I had no idea that he was treated so ill. Please convey my wishes to Lady Cranmer that we do not have any objections to his being her Ward. For the sake of the family, if he tries to stake any claims upon the estate, we will deny his connection to us.’

‘If that is your wish.’

‘It is. Will my husband die?’

‘I fear that he may not last the night.’

‘Then please leave us. It will not be necessary for you to call again.’

‘But I will need to see him tomorrow, if he is still with us!’

‘I repeat, you will not be needed. Now please leave and convey my wishes to Lady Cranmer.’

‘I looked at her and could see in her face that she had no intention of allowing her husband any medical help. I could say nothing more, so I came away and drove back here. It appears that Lord Fitzherbert did indeed pass away in the night.’

We were all quiet for a moment as those final words were uttered.

‘How do you feel about this?’ my Aunt asked me.

‘I feel no love for him and just pity that my grandmother still feels that she has no wish to see me. I am relieved that I am out of his clutches and although he is, or was my grandfather I feel no sorrow for his passing.’

‘I agree, the world is a better place without his presence. Now the doctor has a few more things to say to you. I have taken the liberty of explaining your circumstances to him and he took this into consideration when examining you - Doctor?’

‘I examined you thoroughly last night following the information conveyed to me by your Aunt. To be truthful, I was somewhat surprised that you were not, according to the information provided, a true girl, physically, I mean. I need to speak frankly about things of a personal and private nature. Is this agreeable?’

‘Yes, I have seen much that is disagreeable in my life and doubt that you can shock me.’

He shook his head.

‘And you but twelve years of age. Yes I suppose that you have had to grow up faster than would normally be expected. Well, when I examined you, I noticed that your genitalia, that is your penis and testes were underdeveloped. Indeed you have no testes; only the sac. In addition to this, your penis is so underdeveloped that it barely functions as one and you must have difficulty in passing water. You also have certain physical attributes of a female and I suspect hermaphroditic indications, that is you have male and female attributes. I would need to give you a thorough examination and also call in a colleague from London who has special knowledge about these things to confirm my diagnosis, but tentatively, I would say that we can classify you as a girl and not a boy.’

I listened to this discourse with some amazement and not a little fear.

‘W...Will I die?’ I asked

He laughed.

‘No, I think that you will be with us for a good few years yet. This is not an illness; it is just that your body is different to other peoples. However it is not such a rare condition as one might think.’

‘So, am I a girl — a real girl?’

‘I think that we might say yes, with slight variations. However, it is unlikely that you will be able to bear children.’

‘I am thankful for what the Lord has provided for me.’

‘Amen to that.’ said my Aunt.

A year to the day of the events described above, I find myself seated in church. I am wearing a lovely white dress and gloves. My hair has grown until it nearly reaches my waist and my white bonnet with red ribbons covers my head making me feel quite festive. As I watch the white surpliced choirboys whispering and making faces at each other while the vicar reads his sermon, I thought back to the previous twelve months and the changes in me and my circumstances.

It seems amazing that much had happened over the last year. After my flight from Preston Park and the subsequent events, things had moved swiftly. Preston Park has been sold and my grandmother has moved abroad, for her health. I never did see her again and I am unhappy that she had not made her peace with me.

Aunt Elizabeth has adopted me and she is now my Mama. She is not my birth mother, but she is all I would wish in a parent as I love her and she loves me without any reservation. I have my own pony and I ride it with her on her horse all over the estate and further afield. I am able to wear the prettiest dresses and gowns that money can buy and love all the feminine finery that now comes as second nature to me to wear.

I was confirmed as being a hermaphrodite by the eminent London Doctor and had some corrective surgery that makes it easier for me to use the lavatory without creating a mess. I was sore for about a month but have had no trouble since. I will not, as suspected, be able to have children of my own, but as there are many orphans in the world, I would perhaps adopt as my Aunt has, if and when I wish to. I am still only thirteen, so I have much to look forward to, I hope, before that question arises.

One surprising and perhaps unexpected thing to happen in October was when I became a bridesmaid for my own Mama. She married Doctor Wyatt in the very church that I am sitting in now. They became much closer throughout the year and I think she even surprised herself when she said yes to his proposal.

So now I have a new Papa and a Mama and as I look to my side, I see that they are smiling and looking most contented.

I now have a governess and she is teaching me daily all manner of things. Mama feels that a girl needs all the advantages she can obtain in this male orientated world and I have to agree with that. My governess’s name is Clarissa and she has a funny laugh. I do like her and as she is only eighteen, she feels close to a sister to me. She is sitting on my other side and looks very nice in her blue calico dress and bonnet.

We stand to sing ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ and the sound of joyful singing fills the church.

There is now another psalm read and then the choir stands.

The soloist starts the hymn and the hairs on the back of my head rise as I hear the words.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

We join in on the second chorus as I remember hearing that song a year and a day ago standing outside the church at Withdean in the freezing snow, as I stopped for a while before I tried to find my way home.

I then recall seeing the vision of my parents as they guided me to sanctuary. Finally as we sang the last verse of that wonderful carol I remembered my conversation with Mama just before I fell asleep on that fateful night.

‘Thank you Aunt, for taking me in; you are an angel.’

She looked down at me and stroked my hair. I had the doll that she gave me, firmly under my arm. As she spoke she smiled at me most tenderly.

‘No, my dear. You have given me back a meaning to my life and it is you who are an angel - an angel without wings.’

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Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

Picture By John Hanson Walker ~ Portrait of a Girl

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.