She held up the shirt and breeches to her body and turned to the mirror, examining the fit. She had taken the clothes from the laundry room in the morning. Being so small, she had to take a boy’s clothes. A man’s would have been far too big.
“This could work,” she muttered to herself, smiling with excitement. Laura dropped the clothes back on the bed and turned to the mirror.
If I am to transform myself into a boy, there is much that must change!
She started to work on her hair. Collecting small scissors from her toilette table, she cut away at the long locks until they just reached her chin. With the strands so short, she tied them into a small bun at the back of her head. Next, she turned to her face and hurried to remove the makeup. Her features were still petite, and though she did not believe herself to be a great beauty, her features were pretty enough that it would be difficult to persuade others she was a boy. She pulled a cap out of a drawer, one she had taken from the stable boy that had been distracted with the horses earlier that day. Pulling the cap down over her head, it hid her features enough to make the illusion a little more real.
Now darkness had completely fallen outside, she would have to make her escape. The sooner she could leave, the more hours concealed in the darkness she would have to run from the house.
She undressed quickly and bound her breasts with a strip of linen from her cupboard. Though slight in figure, she had slim curves, and they would need to be hidden if she were to be convincing. With her breasts bound, she took a small purse out of her dresser full of money and hid the purse between her breasts. At least there, no one could steal from her! She dressed in the boy’s clothes, pulling the cap low as she finished her work.
She stared in the mirror for some time, shifting between her feet with nerves. Staring into the mirror with her blue eyes darting back and forth, she had to accept there was not much that was masculine about her… she would have to hope that people would think her merely a young boy and feminine in appearance. She had seen enough feminine men in her life, those dandies who were almost as slight in the figure as she was.
Perhaps this could work.
If she were caught, she feared what the punishment could be. Her father would probably beat her, but what punishment her husband-to-be would think of was frightening. With all the rumors that circled about that man, she didn’t doubt it would be something horrific. Something in the bedchamber…she shivered with fear from the idea.
It was worth a try at the very least. She had nothing to lose.
She placed the food bundle in a leather satchel bag and turned back to her writing desk, placed in the corner of her chamber. Inside the top drawer, she found her last letter from her governess. In the corner of the parchment was Ava’s address, in the heart of Scotland in Inverness.
It will be quite a journey.
She smiled at the idea and hid the letter in her satchel before turning to the door. On the wall next to the door was a painting of her mother. She placed a kiss on her hand and turned her palm to the painted cheek of her mother.
“Wish me luck.”
Chapter Two
Laura had been wandering the streets for some time before she had to accept that she was lost. She had planned to head to the coaching inn. From there, she could catch the stagecoach and make her way slowly up the country toward Scotland. The stagecoach could take her as far as Edinburgh, and from there, she could traverse the open countryside toward Inverness.
Yet the dark streets looked so different at night, and she had grown more and more nervous with each passing group of strangers. She had never been out so late by herself before. She passed through the streets of Covent Garden and was startled to see the number of courtesans and ladies of the night that wandered the street. More than one approached her to her alarm, but she ran quickly away, with her eyes darting between groups of ruffians and drunkards that could not walk the streets in a straight line.
As she reached the other side of Covent Garden, she had to accept she had no idea of which way to go to find the coaching inn. She swallowed all her pride when she saw a young man smoking a pipe, standing a little apart from a drunkard group outside an alehouse.
“Excuse me,” she affected a deep voice. Her tone was already husky, but she took on an extra depth. “Could you tell me the way to the coaching inn, please?”
“That way,” the man pointed down the road. “Second turn on your left.” His eyes returned to her, and she saw them widen on her. “Hurry lad, before anyone notices you here.”
“Why?” She stepped back in surprise.
“Young boy like yourself, easy target,” he took a long drag on his pipe and blew out the smoke. It billowed in the air around Laura’s face, making her stumble even further back.
Was that a threat!?
For the briefest of moments, she was pleased to see she had passed for a boy, but the threat in his words hit her quickly. She hurried away, feeling the darkness of his meaning practically crawl inside her and leave her trembling. She walked quickly down the street, looking back once to see the man talking to one of his friends and gesturing down the road in her direction with his pipe.
I am no easy target.
Despite the words, she felt fear growing anyway. She glanced down at her body, being so slight, she would hardly be able to put up much of a fight if it came to it.
She followed the man’s instructions, but before she took the second left, she glanced back another time. Her breath hitched to see the young man and his friends were now walking down the streets, their eyes trained on her position.
Laura ran before she could think too much about it. All she knew was that she had to put as much distance between her and the men as quickly as possible. Running without a skirt and in flat leather boots, she found remarkably easy, compared to the heavy dresses and heels she used to wear, but little good it did. As she kept looking back over her shoulder, cold realization struck.
They are gaining ground!
* * *
