"One....Two....Three....." slowly counted Genevieve, cocking her pistols, " Four....Five....Six...."       She stood perfectly balanced, took aim and continued counting," Seven....Eight....."       Suddenly Captain Wilcox shouted out," Please don't shoot! I'll do it! Please don't shoot!"       Stand And Deliver - Part 7 - Conclusion by Alys

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Part 7 - Conclusion
 

Genevieve quickly threw off the fleeces that had been too successful in bringing slumber so that she had failed to respond to the approach of her intruder. She rose to look at the figure of her erstwhile suitor silhouetted in the cave mouth by the autumn sunlight.

"Captain Wilcox this is an unexpected and pleasant surprise," she said, smiling as she attempted to brush down her crumpled attire," although I am alarmed at your threat to my person."

"I regret that I make no idle threat to your safety, dear lady," said the Captain as he walked towards Genevieve," I only state the duty that has been placed on me as an officer in the Somerset County Yeomanry."

"Well sir please explain what information compels you to escort me to prison and to a fate, that you suggest, would be my certain execution?" asked Genevieve as she sought to maintain a conversation while she considered her prospects for escape.

"My dearest lady it seems that Lord Vorace has indisputable evidence of your identity as the notorious outlaw Midnight Mary," Captain Wilcox explained.

While keeping her gaze and her smile focused on the Captain, Genevieve considered her options. Her horse and her weapons were at the back of the cave and there was no possibility that, encumbered by skirts as she was, she would be able to reach them before being apprehended. There seemed to be no way to escape bar doing something that was distasteful. She mouthed a silent apology to Malcolm and took a small step forward.

"Well Percival surely you cannot believe that someone with breeding such as myself could possibly be a common brigand," Genevieve said as she reached out a hand to touch the Captain's cheek.

Captain Wilcox, initially startled by the Genevieve's caress, placed his hand over hers and brought if to his lips, kissing it gently.

"Oh Genevieve, my sweetest lady, how could such a thing be true?" He asked as he pulled her into his arms, before placing his mouth on hers and frantically kissing her.

Genevieve endured the slobbering attention even as she felt the need to retch. Percival, his initial mad passion a little sated, gazed longingly into her eyes.

"Oh Genevieve I have waited so long for this moment, my sweetest love," he gushed," I am sure that once you explain things to Lord Vorace he will realise his mistake."

"Except Percival......." she began.

"Except what? Genevieve," said Captain Wilcox as he released her from his grip and stared at her with a look of confusion.

"Except it is true!," yelled Genevieve as she pointed the two pistols, she had taken from Captain Wilcox's belt, straight at him.

"But Genevieve I don't understand," blubbered the Captain," you are such a sweet lady....."

"I am sorry, Percival but I have to be blunt for you to understand. The truth is you are a stupid oaf who would have been better advised to seek the hand of a farmer's daughter rather than mine," Genevieve said," but I grant that you are not an evil man like Lord Vorace and Lord Parsimon."

"Genevieve please stop this madness," pleaded the captain.

"You ask the wrong person to stop their mad actions. It's the callous behaviour of their lordships who are happy to see the children of their tenants starve to death because of such crippling rents, so they can lose a few extra guineas on the gambling tables that needs to be stopped." Genevieve stated forcefully, " I am proud that my actions have filled a few empty bellies this winter."

Captain Wilcox stared at Genevieve with astonishment, he could not comprehend how a lady of breeding, such as his captor, could be preaching such seditious nonsense. How could anyone question the actions of such noble people as their lordships.

"Now, time is short, Percival, please take off your clothes," Genevieve commanded.

"I will do no such thing!" exclaimed Captain Wilcox angrily.

"I have two shots," said Genevieve with venom," the first will remove your member, the second will destroy your heart. You will have the pain and ignominy of losing your manhood before you lose your life. I will then take your corpse to display naked in Bath Market Square. I hope your family will appreciate the humiliation your stupidity has brought upon them."

The Captain turned white with fear as Genevieve delivered her threats with utterly convincing confidence. He stood as if paralysed.

"I am counting to ten before pulling the triggers," Genevieve said icily," if you do not wish to comply with my request I suggest you make peace with your maker."

Captain Wilcox continued to stare blankly at Genevieve as if the complete twist in events was something his slow brain was struggling to make sense of.

"One....Two....Three....." slowly counted Genevieve, cocking her pistols, " Four....Five....Six...."

She stood perfectly balanced, took aim and continued counting," Seven....Eight....."

Suddenly Captain Wilcox shouted out," Please don't shoot! I'll do it! Please don't shoot!"

He began furiously removing his garments. In a few moments he stood naked, with his clothes and weapons in an untidy heap on the floor.

"Start walking out of the cave, quickly!" commanded Genevieve, knowing that she needed to take rapid advantage of the Captain's pliant state.

She followed him out into the open air before directing him to continue down the slope towards a distant farmhouse. Captain Wilcox hurried away, obviously still petrified by the unexpected change of character in his former lady friend. Genevieve stood and watched with a slight smile on her lips as the naked man made his way gingerly across the damp heather.

Although it was late in the year it was a sunny day and she was certain that he would come to no great physical harm having to walk in the open air for the few hours it would take him to reach the nearest farm.

After a few minutes she turned back into the cave to gather the few items that might enable someone to trace her subsequent whereabouts and soon was making her way astride Prince, with the Captain's horse in tow.

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Some hours later she had reached a lonely copse. She quickly dismounted and disrobed before dressing in the male disguise she had used to visit Warrington's Grain and Victual Suppliers. She dug a hole and buried her female clothes along with her jewellery and then, after she had completed that task she prepared herself for the emotional farewell.

Prince was peacefully grazing the lush grass in the open ground near the tree. He whinnied in delight as she approached him. He had been her constant companion nearly all the time she had lived in her lodge after returning from Africa.

Genevieve stroked his head gently.

"I'm so sorry my darling Prince, but if you stay with me I will be in danger," she whispered gently.

She took off his saddle and harness and with one final stroke of his body she urged him onwards with a last command.

"Go, my darling, go and find some others and rejoice in your freedom!"

Prince slowly walked away and then began trotting as he realised that he was unencumbered before breaking into a gallop of joy.

She watched as he sped across the open field, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, before returning to the shelter of the trees, mounting the Captain's mare and heading away from the valley.

Some hours later she had reached a hilltop overlooking the place where she had left Bessie and Malcolm the previous day, the staging post a little outside Reading. She dismounted, removed the horse's harness and sent her running away, without the emotion that she had earlier felt on Prince's departure. She then made her way down to the inn to await the next coach to London.

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Lady Vivian Hamilton watched with deep concern as the man, her recently rather rotund husband, made his way slowly towards the summer house in the concealed corner of their gardens. Even in the cool temperature of the early June morning the effort of walking was making him sweat. Although she wondered what could be afflicting her sweet Oliver that necessitated him wearing many layers of clothing even on the warmest day.

"My dearest Oliver," she said as he neared where she was sitting on the veranda," I fear that your condition worsens by the day."

"Yes, my sweetest Vivian, it is indeed true that my medical condition advances," he replied, before slowly making his way up the steps and sitting next to her on the bench.

"Do the learned doctors in London still have nothing to resist the progression of your illness," she asked.

"Regretfully not," Oliver replied," and if such a thing were ever found then the person responsible would have many, many souls wishing to bestow fame and wealth on him or her."

"I can only wish that it were so in time to save you, Oliver," said Vivian, sadly.

"Vivian I have asked you here so that we can talk discretely. I have to go to the capital for my condition, indeed for the final treatment. If it is successful I will only be able to leave London after a long period of convalescence and will not be able to return for maybe as long as a year," he stated.

"Even a year would not be a long time to wait for your return to health," responded Vivian.

"However it is very possible that I will not survive this final period of nursing and in which case I just wanted to reassure you that I have made all provisions in my will for everything to pass to you, rather than my grasping relative Lord Parsimon," Oliver stated," I also have a notary in Bath with all the legal documents in case the greedy lordship attempts to challenge your title."

"Oh, Oliver you are so generous but please do not think of such an outcome.....Oliver is something wrong, what is it? she asked as she saw him wince in pain and suddenly put his hands to his stomach.

"It's nothing it's just the movement of the bab......" Oliver gasped before stopping in mid-sentence with the import of what had been said.

"Oliver, did you say baby?" Vivian asked in bewilderment.

Her husband turned towards her and after gently caressing her face said," my dearest Vivian, I never planned you to find out my strange secret but since I may never see you alive again, maybe it is well that you have this knowledge, please come with me into the summer house."

Vivian followed Oliver into an inner room and watched as all the curtains were closed.

"Vivian I am going to show you something you have never seen before, my unclothed body. Please be warned it is not as you would expect it to look or even maybe desire it to be. You must promise to keep this our secret and not to be so alarmed that you rush from this place," he said.

"My dearest husband, who had given me so much pleasure over the years, I will gladly keep my own counsel." she responded.

Slowly Oliver began to remove his clothes. Firstly his breeches and then his topcoat. Vivian was surprised to see how large his stomach had become when compared to his slim frame. Then Oliver removed his over-shirt and Vivian was shocked to see the shape of his chest was quite womanly under the remainder of his clothes. Then the underpants fell showing that part of her husband's body that had given her so much joy, although she was surprised how small his flaccid member appeared. Finally Oliver removed his undershirt and, upon viewing the strange naked body in front of her, Vivian felt light headed and had to grasp the back of a chair to stop herself fainting.

"But how is this possible, Oliver, you are a woman!," she blurted out, " a woman with child!"

"Please sit down my dear," Oliver replied," let me dress again and then we can return to the veranda and I will tell you my unusual story."

Some minutes later the couple had returned to their seats and Oliver began telling the story of being brought up as a boy but then once the previously considered male body had began to develop along more female lines, being sent away to live on the family estate in the Gold Coast of Africa and then taking on the identity of a girl and then a young woman.

The death of the rest of the family, in a boating accident, had meant returning in male guise to take over the title, the businesses and the property in England bringing back Bessie and Malcolm, whom he had rescued from a slavers' market. The explanation of the pregnancy was a little difficult for Vivian to listen to but at last the story was complete.

"What is your feminine name?" asked Vivian while looking at her husband carefully.

"Genevieve," was the reply.

Vivian put her hand to her mouth, "oh I see it now, you're Lady Osborne!"

"Yes," Oliver/Genevieve replied," it was my Mother's title before marrying and ironically it was mine by inheritance."

"It is a very strange affair indeed," responded Vivian thoughtfully.

"My sweet lady," said Oliver/Genevieve, " I will understand if you demand a divorce under these circumstances."

There was a silence between the two for a while and then Vivian turned to her husband.

"My dearest Oliver, and please excuse me using the masculine name since even though you are clearly more of a Genevieve, it is the form of address I am familiar with," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully," I do not wish for a divorce and let me tell you why."

Vivian then explained how she had dreaded being with child herself, especially after the deaths of both her sisters while giving birth. She had been eternally grateful to discover that her couplings with her husband had not been successful in that regard. However she had many regrets that their household had not been blessed with the presence of offspring.

She had also felt herself lucky that her intimate moments with Oliver were always so pleasurable unlike the mistreatment that her woman friends received from their brutish spouses.

"So you see, my husband, why would I ever want to be with anyone else," she said gently," and furthermore I would be honoured if you felt me worthy enough to be a mother to your child, or should I say one of his or her mothers."

Oliver/Genevieve took Vivian in her arms and responded," Thank you."

The couple sat holding each other for a long time as tears of joy rolled freely down their cheeks.

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The pains were excruciating as Genevieve lay on her bed in her beautiful room inside the Pall Mall house in London. She felt exhausted after many hours of labour.

"Miss Genevieve, please try this, it might make things easier," suggested Bessie who had been by her side throughout," the wise women in my home village always practised it when they helped bring new babies into the world"

Bessie and Malcolm helped Genevieve stand against the bed, each movement seeming to exacerbate the agony but once she was standing she felt a lot more in control. She felt her baby being pulled down from her. She redoubled her internal pushing and soon the head appeared and then suddenly all the internal pressure had gone as Bessie took the infant into her arms.

Some minutes later, while Bessie cleaned up, Genevieve held her beautiful brown skinned baby girl to her bosom.

As she kissed the still damp tiny forehead she reflected on the fact of at last being able to stand and deliver.

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The End