Ethel was getting into a full set of Norris’s clothing, this time with breeches. His boots were large on her, but not too large, and her shoulders almost filled the jacket.
“You’re much more convincing,” Ariana said.
Ethel admired herself in the mirror. “I am, aren’t I? I might like to dress like this at times and swaggeraround.” She plaited her wiry dark hair into a pigtail and tied it with a ribbon, creating an old-fashioned style, but one some men still wore. With a hat on top it looked easily believable. She went to the fireplace and poked her finger into the soot, then dabbed a bit above her lips and around her chin.
“You really could fool anyone,” Ariana said. “Should I try the soot?”
“Maybe a tiny bit. Your skin’s too pale and delicate. You’re obviously a young sprig. I’ll thicken your eyebrows just a bit.”
The effect made Ariana laugh, but it wasn’t ridiculous. It merely made her look an even-less-prepossessing specimen. She put on her black leather half boots and then practiced a bold, manly walk, the cane tucked under her arm.
Ethel looked out through the window. It faced the back, so it told them nothing about the mob, but she said, “Fortune does favor the brave. It’s begun to rain.”
Ariana went to confirm it. “It will disperse the mob?”
“Not heavy enough for that, but it’ll excuse an umbrella.”
While Ethel went to get one, Ariana wrote a note to her mother. She’d leave it with a servant, however, for her mother would be sure to forbid this enterprise.
Ethel returned with a man’s black umbrella. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained!”
Ariana was heartily tired of proverbs, but as she left the room and went downstairs, she appreciated the sentiment.
The footman had been sent to summon a hackney, and a wide-eyed maid kept a lookout for it. “It’s here, milady!”
Ariana gave the note to the maid, doing her best toignore a panicking heart. She couldn’t faint. When Ethel opened the door, she strode out, immediately opening the umbrella as she headed for the hackney door, which was held open by George.
“Where’s the lady?” someone called.
“Aye, where’s the Amazon?”
“Shameless hussy!”
For a moment Ariana thought she’d been caught, but it was an insult to the absent. She thrust the umbrella into George’s hand and entered the coach, immediately pulling down the grubby blind closest to her. Ethel snarled, “Be off with you, you lowly scum,” in an admirably deep voice, before joining her. George slammed the door and they rattled away.
“My, but I enjoyed that,” Ethel said.
Ariana had a hand to her unsteady chest, but she said, “I think I did, too, now it’s done. Never again, though. Never again.”
They were soon in Albemarle Street, where they saw no gawkers. Either a sinful man was too commonplace or Kynaston had dealt with them—he or Lady Cawle, who could probably summon the army to her assistance if she wished. Ethel went to rap the knocker, and as soon as the door opened, Ariana hurried inside, leaving one of Lady Cawle’s servants to pay the hackney.
Kynaston came out of the library, seeming puzzled for a moment. Then he recognized her. “The devil! Come in here.”
Ariana and Ethel went into the room and he closed the door.
“I needed to escape,” Ariana said, suddenly feeling foolish. “And this was the only way.”
“Very enterprising.” He smiled at Ethel. “You, ma’am, are most convincing.”
“Sturdy stock, my lord. Here, my lady, let me take off that greatcoat. You must be sweltering.”
Ariana surrendered it gratefully, but then realized she was exposed in her ridiculous baggy pantaloons and her brother’s large shirt, which she hadn’t bothered to fasten at the neck. It hung down, exposing her corset. She quickly gathered it together, but she’d seen a reaction from Kynaston.
A most interesting reaction.
Chapter 11
“I’d best go and make arrangements,” Ethel said, and left.
