By the time we reached home, it was obvious to me that my sister was very unwell and was in a high fever.

 
 
Duality

By Susan Brown
 

I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.

There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.

“Angry people are not always wise.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

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Previously …

I did what I could to cheer her up, my euphoria draining away as quickly as it had come on awaking that morning. It was obvious to me that she had picked up a cold, probably from the town visit yesterday or sometime on our journey. Her forehead was a little hot and I hoped that the trip home would not fatigue her too much. We should, I hoped, be home by late in the afternoon and then she could go to bed early so that hopefully she would be all right for work on the morrow.

Unfortunately, the coach was crammed and the journey was, at times, most disagreeable, as it had started to rain and the roads became somewhat muddy and even treacherous in places. Julia thankfully slept through most of the journey, when she was not coughing. I could feel the heat from her through the muslin of my dress as she laid her head on my lap when the coach became less crowded.

I became very anxious for my dear sister and wished that the journey would end as soon as it ever could.

And now the story continues…

Please forgive me dear reader for touching on subjects that are somewhat upsetting, delicate and embarrassing in this chapter. I regret that it is an unavoidable but necessary part of my story. Those of a delicate nature may want to avoid reading certain passages.

By the time we reached home, it was obvious to me that my sister was very unwell and was in a high fever.

Two of the footmen were called to help carry her upstairs

On instructions from the housekeeper, she was confined to our bedroom and the doctor called.

I was thankful for the kindness of everyone below stairs and I understood that the lady of the house, Lady Trencham, sanctioned the housekeeper’s actions.

For myself, I was grieved to see her so ill. She had always been strong and the illness had laid her so very low. We were informed by the doctor that she had the consumption and I was asked if there was any history of that dreaded disease in my family, as it was well known that it was hereditary.

‘No Doctor, I have no information regarding this. The family took me in when I was very young and the only people that I can say with assurance have not been ill with this is the members of the immediate family.’

‘So it is possible that relatives of the girl could have been consumptive?’

‘I suppose so.’

It was decided that my darling sister was to be bled several times and was declared to be in some danger of her life.

The blood letting seemed to do little to help her, nor did the various lotions and potions that were given. Julia’s wracking coughs and the blood on her handkerchief, together with the terrible fever all showed how very ill she was, despite the doctors and nurses close attentions.

She was kept wrapped up warm in bed with a raging fire as the fever caught hold. She rapidly lost weight and the vicar was called for on two occasions to give comfort to her.

For myself, I was let off duties and I was with her day and night. We were lucky, if that is the right word under the circumstances, as the family apart from Lady Trencham, were up in town and to those who of us that had been left behind, the work was comparatively light. In consequence, I was allowed a certain amount of leeway as to my work.

I could do little for Julia except give comfort to her on the few times that she was aware of my presence. It nearly broke my heart to see her the way she was. I was used to her being the strong one. Ready, willing and able to work hard with a cheerful smile on her face.

Julia had been the one person who knew all about me and my peculiar circumstances. I dreaded what things would be like without her. Then I felt a terrible guilt, as I had been selfishly thinking of me rather than her for a few moments. I prayed to God for forgiveness.

One evening, about four days after she succumbed to her illness, it was late at night and the nurse was asleep in the next room and I was alone with Julia. She was in a fitful sleep and her forehead was very hot to touch.

Earlier, the doctor had told me that he did not feel that Julia was strong enough to come through the illness and that I should prepare myself for the worst. He said that there was little more that he could do but await the outcome of the crisis.

I tried to be brave and strong at this dreadful news, but it was very hard. I was to lose my sister and could do nothing about it but see her waste away in front of my eyes, but I had to try to be strong for her and put my feelings aside.

The room was extremely warm with the fire blazing and as usual, the window was shut.

I was reading my bible next to her bed and I heard her moan something.

Getting up, I went closer.

‘Water,’ she whispered without opening her eyes.

I drew some water from the jug and poured some in a glass.

Helping her up slightly, I managed to get a few drops in her mouth, but spilt more than a little on the bed in the process.

‘So hot,’ she gasped, as she sunk back down on the pillow. ‘Where is Mama?’

‘She is away at present.’ I said.

‘I want a new bonnet. Will Mama let me have a new bonnet and some ribbons when she comes home?’

‘I am sure she will.’

All this was breaking my heart. She did not know where she was and she thought that Mama was still alive. She talked as if she was still a child and to her fevered imagination, Mama was coming home to her.

Julia drifted off to sleep again. Her breath was so shallow, she was barely breathing and I knew that it was nearly her time.

Sobbing, I got up and went to the window.

To me the room was unbearably hot so how would it be for poor Julia? The doctor said that she must be kept warm, but I just felt that it was wrong. Surely she should be cooled down?

Without further thought, I pulled the curtains back and opened the window. Then I got the jug of water threw it on the fire, extinguishing the flames in but a moment.

I went over to the bed and pulled the covers off my sister. Her emaciated body looked thin and wasted under her nightgown.

Her cheeks were flushed and she did not respond to my touch or words. I felt useless. Had I done wrong by cooling the room? Would I hasten Julia’s death doing something strictly against doctor’s orders?

I sat by her and held her hand and then rested my head on the bed. I was desperately tired, as I had little sleep since my sister had fallen ill. Without realising it, I fell asleep…

I awoke as I felt a hand on my head. Light was streaming through the open window.

Raising my head, I saw to my delight that Julia was awake and she was looking at me with a tired smile on her beautiful face.

‘Georgiana, you are tired?’

‘Yes my dear but that is nothing. Tell me how you are feeling?’

‘Weak as a kitten but my cough is better and my breathing also. I do not feel as if I am burning up.’

‘Your fever has broken and you look much better. I shall fetch the nurse.’

When the nurse came in, the first thing she did was to chastise me for opening the window and putting out the fire.

‘Look at Julia, she is better now.’

‘That is because the fever has broken. It would have broken earlier if you had left the window closed and had the fire lit.’

She was full of self-importance, but I did not agree with her in any way. I was overjoyed that Julia was getting better and so, for her sake, I held my tongue.

Julia managed to get much better over the coming weeks, but it was obvious that she was not strong enough to endure the hard work that was necessary to keep her position. It was decided that she would go and live with her Uncle William and Aunt Sophie, where, it was hoped that she would grow stronger and regain her strength.

The night before she left, we were in bed together for the last time. We were both tearful at her leaving and worried about the future for both of us.

‘Oh Julia, I do so hope that your uncle and aunt will treat you well.’

‘They looked after Mama when she was ill. I am sure that they will be kind to me, although I have not seen them often, they have always seemed kindly disposed towards me.’

‘I wish I could say the same. They have always been aware of my situation and the fact that I am not a blood relative. Sometimes they behaved very coldly towards me.’

‘Well, let us hope that you will not have to see them very much.’

‘I would want to come and see you.’

‘Your work will make that difficult, but we shall have to wait and see. I am more worried about you Georgiana.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I will not be here for you.’

‘But there is nothing to worry about now. Doctor Stone says that he thinks that I am a girl and not a boy. I will not grow hair where I shouldn’t and my voice will not change, also my itchy breasts are growing larger, just like a normal girl.’

‘I know, but I still worry about you. You still have the pains?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘You must promise me that you will ask to see the doctor if they do not go away?’

‘I will, dear sister, I promise. Now, I see that you have over tired yourself. You have a long journey in the morning and you need to be fresh for that.’

It was a tearful farewell with promises of letters every week on both our parts. As the carriage pulled away, Julia was leaning out of the window and waving goodbye. I wondered when I would see her again.

And so life continued. Julia’s replacement arrived a week after she left for her uncle and aunt.

Jane was a nice girl about a year older than me, but she wasn’t my dear, sweet sister. She had been in service in London, to an old gentleman who had died two months before. Being tired of London and having relatives in the area, she was able to take over Julia’s position at short notice. This was good, as that lessened the workload that had been increased considerably because of Julia’s illness and subsequent leaving.

I wrote to Julia regularly, as she did to me. Her health was improving, all be it slowly and she begged me not to worry on her account. For my part, I was able to tell her the below stairs gossip and a few interesting things about or lords and masters.

I had little contact with the family, as I was not a personal maid. Lady Trencham had a personal maid, as did her only daughter Lady Diana, a girl of fifteen with all the airs and graces that comes with her position. On the few occasions that I encountered her, she was aloof and somewhat distant. The only thing that I wished was, that I could wear such wonderful gowns and bonnets that she had; all silks, satins and fine materials. They must have cost a small fortune and I admit to be somewhat envious of her.

Lord Trencham and his son The Hon Phillip had manservants to look after their needs. I had little contact with Lord Trencham, but Phillip was another matter. We seemed to cross paths on a number of occasions and I felt somewhat uncomfortable in his presence.

It was not as if he did anything, but the way he looked at me was not the way a gentleman should look at a female member of staff. I had not forgotten the things that Julia had told me about him and his predilection to young, vulnerable girls and that was worrying.

I tried to avoid him as much as possible and was relieved on the occasions when he went up to London to visit friends.

Jane had misgivings about Lord Phillip too and she was uncomfortable with the way he looked at her, although nothing was said or done.

One night, about three months after Julia had left us, I was not able to sleep, despite working hard for many hours. It did not help that Jane snored heavily and on that particular night, the noise that she was making was too much for me and was enough to wake the dead.

Instead of lying awake and staring at the ceiling, I decided to get up and go to the kitchen to warm some milk. Cook allowed us to do this, as it did no harm in her opinion, as long as we did not take advantage of her good nature.

Everything was quiet as I made my way down the servant’s stairs that led to the kitchen and basement area. I was wearing a long white nightgown, slippers and a wrap. My hair was tied in a sleep plait with ribbons to keep it in place. Despite it being autumn now, it was still quite warm and I did not feel the need or desire to get properly dressed, as at that time of night there was little chance of meeting anyone.

The kitchen was lit by the embers of the fire that glowed in the darkness casting dancing shadows on the walls. The only other lighting was a small oil lamp on the kitchen table.

Fetching a pot, I took a jug of milk from the pantry, which was not fresh but still drinkable, and then poured some into the pot.

I hung the pot over the fire and waited a few minutes for the milk to warm through.

Soon I was sitting at the huge kitchen table and sipping the hot milk.

As I sat, I wondered how Julia was. She had told me in her letters that she was getting better, but there was an undercurrent of sadness in the way she wrote. Julia was always a happy soul and had a positive outlook on life. Her letters lacked such feeling and I was concerned that all was not well at her aunt and uncles house.

I rubbed my belly, as it was aching slightly. It had worried me that I was still getting some pains in that area and then I was reassured by recalling the good doctors words that I was experiencing growing pains and that I should not concern myself.

It was second nature to me now that I dress and act as a girl. My days as George seemed distant in the past. So much had happened since I had agreed to make that fateful decision to be a girl and go into service with my sister at The Manor…

I heard a noise and the sound of a bottle breaking.

The kitchen door flung open at the far end and I caught my breath as I wondered who it could be.

I was soon to find out.

Lurching in came The Hon Phillip Trencham and he was obviously in his cups.

I stood and covered myself as best I could with the thin shawl that I was wearing.

For a moment he did not see me and he was singing quietly some sort of rough song that would make a sailor blush with its profanity.

After a moment, he noticed me and came towards the table.

With trepidation, I stood and curtsied; I now wished to be anywhere but there, in a state of undress, alone in the kitchen with a drunken man, a man who was far my superior in station.

He stood there, a stupid grin on his face, his body swaying slightly. I do not think that I had seen anyone quite so drunk as Master Phillip was at that moment.

He drank deeply from his bottle, belched and then looked at me more keenly.

‘Its young Geogiana, isn’t it?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘Still up, are you. Couldn’t shleep?’

‘Yes Sir.’

I was edging around the table.

‘If I may Sir, I will go back to bed.’

With some difficulty, he sat down heavily on a chair.

‘Shtay a while. I wish to talk.’

Although I describe his words, his voice was slurred and I found it difficult to understand.

‘I really need to go Sir…’

‘Shtay, I say, damn you.’

He was frightening me now. He had a wild look about him and in my thin nightgown and little else, I felt far from safe.

I stood there shivering, despite the heat being thrown out by the fire, close by.

He looked me up and down as if I was some sort of prize heifer.

‘You’re a pretty little thing Georgiana; nice pert little titties.’

I said nothing. My heart was pounding in my breast and I was scared – very scared.

He stood up, barely able to stay on his feet.

He walked towards me, weaving as he did so. I stepped back and then I found myself up against a cold wall.

‘Please Sir, let me go to my bed.’

‘Why, do you not find me handsome and attractive to you? You must know that you are the sort of girl who should be pleashed to have the attentions of one such as I. I have sheen you looking at me.’

‘I…I don’t understand Sir.’

‘Don’t you indeed. Well perhapsh I should help you to undershtand.’

Belying his drunken state, in seconds he was upon me holding my wrist in a vice like grip.

He held me close up against the wall and kissed me roughly. His breath stank of brandy and his disgusting tongue forced its way through my teeth. The hair on his face felt abrasive up against my soft skin and I was totally repelled by him. Then I felt a hard lump against my belly and an unpleasant wetness…

Suddenly, he pulled away, breathing hard. He had a mad look in his eye as he grabbed at my nightgown, which was violently ripped from me in a moment. He looked at me hungrily as he took in my small breasts and then his eyes traveled down my body. I wanted to scream, but I was struck dumb with sheer terror.

‘Whatsh this?’

He looked puzzled and I swayed and almost swooned.

He was looking at my…my parts.

‘What are you, boy or girl?’

‘G…g…girl, please let me go, you are hurting me!’

He actually laughed!

‘Girl, boy it doesh not matter as I have had both and now I am going to have you. Shay a word and you will regret it.’

Within seconds his breeches were around his ankles and he lurched even closer to me.

I started to scream, but he roughly tried to turn me around and put his hand over my mouth to muffle me as he tried to pin me up against the wall.

I knew then that he was going to abuse me in the basest possible way. His face was cruel and he had spittle coming from the corner of his mouth. His member was large and could feel it hard and wet against my thigh. My hand scrabbled about and came up against something metallic.

Without thought, I grabbed at it and hit Phillip on the head.

He dropped like a stone and hit his head hard on the stone floor. Blood trickled from his temple and I feared that I might have killed him.

Dropping the poker, I sobbed uncontrollably as I gathered my nightgown and tried to place it around me like a sheet, as it was beyond wearing.

Shivering with the shock of what had happened I looked down on him, I could see that he was still breathing and for that I was thankful, as I did not want his death on my conscience despite what he had done to me. He looked faintly ridiculous lying there with his breeches around his ankles and large, flaccid member there for all to see. In his unconscious state, he had soiled himself and he lay in a pool of urine…

I shook my head as the full enormity of what I had done engulfed me. My overriding feeling was of panic now, as I did not know what to do.

Then I decided that I had to get away. My position at The Manor was untenable and if I was charged with assaulting Phillip, I had little doubt who would be believed. The horrendous Bloody Code* mean that even minor offenses such as petty theft could mean a hanging. I had little doubt that on awakening, Phillip would denounce me. In addition, he would say that I assaulted him and I had no doubt that he would question my femininity, leading to accusations that I was working under false pretences and was therefore untrustworthy and a liar.

I felt such a despair that I had ever had in my short eventful life.

For a moment, I pulled myself together and tried to think of the best course of action. I had to leave, and quickly before the house was raised, but I could not just go, I had to defend my actions in the best way possible.

The bleeding in Phillip’s head had stopped and he was still breathing and so I lost no more time, as I was afraid of him waking up and rousing the household.

I went back upstairs to my room. Jane was still asleep; she was a heavy sleeper and I had always had problems waking her in the mornings and so there was little chance of my being disturbed.

I dressed as quickly as I could and put some changes of clothes and personal items, as much as I could comfortably carry, in a laundry bag. I then stole downstairs carrying my damaged nightgown with me.

I was taking a chance that Phillip would not wake for some time, as the combination of the drink and the knock on the head would, I hoped; render him unconscious for some time.

Before leaving, I went into Miss Gibbons’s day room where she had her desk and writing implements.

I sat at her desk and took some paper from a drawer. Then with a quill pen, I wrote the following:

Dear Miss Gibbons,

Forgive my writing to you in this manner, but I do not know what else to do and I fear some reprisals from The Hon Phillip’s family. Late at night, as I could not sleep, I went down to the kitchen. I was drinking some warm milk when Master Phillip came in. I regret to say that he was the worse for drink and he was aggressive in his manner. He came over to me and ripped my nightgown off my body and attempted to rape me.

To defend myself, my hand came upon a poker and I hit him with it. He fell down and hit his head. He still breathed; in fact he was snoring when I left him. I did not think that he was too badly hurt, although he appeared unconscious.

I was concerned that I would not be believed and so decided that I would leave but I decided that it would only be right that I explain the true facts to you.

I leave my torn and stained nightgown, where you can see the evidence of the assault and attempted rape.

I swear by almighty God that what I have said is true and I leave it to you to decide what should be done.

Yours respectfully,

Georgiana Digby

The letter was tear stained but I could not help that. The nightgown was at least some evidence of what had been done to me. I knew all about men’s emissions. I learnt everything I need and wanted to know from my Mama. I often helped her with changing sheets and queried the strange stain on one of them. It appeared that some young men have dreams at night that resulted in such staining. I had wondered why it had not happened to me…

I left the letter and nightgown on her desk and then left her room. As a final act, I went back into the kitchen and looked at the prone body of Phillip. He was asleep and still snoring. Judging by the state of him. I would not have been surprised if he would not awaken for several hours, by which time I would hopefully be far away.

Perhaps I should have stayed and sought help, but I was not in my right mind and in any case I strongly believed that The Hon Phillips version of the events would have been taken as truth, rather than mine and that my very life would be in jeopardy.

I stole out of the house through the kitchen door and walked down the long drive of The Manor, a place I where had hoped would be my home for the foreseeable future. That future was now wrecked and in ruins.

It was a fine, dry night and the stars filled the heavens. On any other occasion, I would have enjoyed walking through this quiet place, with only the sounds of the wildlife to keep me company. But this was no ordinary time for me, as I had no home, job or future as far as I could see.

What I would do now, I did not know.

I was in despair.

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To Be Continued?

* The Bloody code, explanation: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Code

Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!

* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Georgiana looks like this.

Sorry about the delay in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more in the future.