Almost a Gentleman by Pam Rosenthal

Author:Pam Rosenthal
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Brava
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 14

The Swan, Phoebe thought, had proved to be as comfortable and hospitable an inn as Lord Linseley had promised. The bed in her room was large and firm, covered with a fluffy, well-aired eiderdown. There was a capacious armoire, clean hot water in a Staffordshire pitcher on a sturdy oak stand, and a merry fire in the grate. Billy was sleeping in the room next door, with a chambermaid to attend to him when he woke, and Lord Linseley was down the hall. When she'd told him she'd join him there for supper at eight, he'd said he'd come to her room to fetch her.

She'd thanked him for his courtliness, but she hadn't told him that he'd find her dressed as a woman. She'd wanted it to be a surprise. How odd it felt, she thought now, peering at herself in the room's large oval mirror. Usually, her changes of sex and costume took place overnight: she'd retire as Phizz and appear the next morning as Phoebe. But this evening she was doing something she'd never done before: removing her male garments and directly replacing them with a female costume.

The lamplight flickered for a moment; her image in the mirror seemed to shimmer as though poised on a mystical threshold. How could she recognize herself, she wondered, in this rush of precipitous change? Where was she? Who was she? Was she the owner of those clever, womanly hands pulling and smoothing until every-thing fell into harmonious order? Or was she the strange amalgam of half-forgotten gestures and facial expressions, taking female shape in the mirror as though emerging from the mists of time? The mysteries of the transformation were as confusing as they were thrilling.

She supposed that the people who kept the inn would be equally confused if they could see her—confused and most likely scandalized. Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Cockburn, proprietor and cook, had seemed like decent, friendly people. The pair of them had greeted their party effusively, welcoming Lord Linseley rather as though he were King, Lord Chancellor, and Archbishop of Canterbury all rolled into one.

She'd been gratified but a bit surprised by the warmth of the reception they'd received. After all, the Swan was just north of Stamford, not much more than halfway between London and Lincoln. She would have expected Lord Linseley to be popular within his own locality, but this wasn't his locality—not yet, not so far south. He must simply be a very pleasant and generous lodger, she supposed.

"We try to keep those rooms for him," the boy who had carried her bags had said, chatting amiably as they'd mounted the stairs. "Queer that he didn't make it home for Christmas this year, though. Well, he always does, sir. Likes to celebrate it wi' his people he does, and of course wi' the young viscount. Never known him to miss out on the joy o' the season. Must have had important business in London, but we knowed we'd be seeing him by Twelfth Night anyway.

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