A Lady’s Choice

by Jane Hunter

  “Papa, do you remember Miss Bennet?”

  “Indeed I do,” Mr. Baker said and Elizabeth smiled warmly. “You are most welcome, Miss Bennet. I shall write to your father to tell him that you have arrived safely.”

  “I thank you, sir,” Elizabeth replied.

  Mr. Baker waved them inside and Felicity linked her arm through Elizabeth’s.

  “Come,” he said jovially, “come in and we shall see that you have a warm cup of tea and some of Mrs. Garrett’s excellent scones.”

  The same footman who had helped her from the carriage plucked her valise from the gravel as though it weighed nothing and followed Mr. Baker into the house.

  Felicity tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s arm and leaned close. “Hamish is away on business, but he will return for the hunt. And our engagement ball, of course.”

  “Of course,” Elizabeth said.

  “The house is very large, and our other guests will be arriving soon. Do not worry that you will be taking up space, I promise that you will be well taken care of.”

  “I was so happy to receive your invitation,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “I have never seen a hunt, that will be very exciting.”

  Felicity lowered her voice. “How would you like to participate in the hunt?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “I—how would I do that? I did not bring anything to wear—and I am most certainly not a horsewoman.”

  Felicity laughed quietly. “You do not have to be a horsewoman,” she said quietly. “What if I were to give you some clothes, and we were to participate in another way?”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “I will explain later,” Felicity said with a smile. “After supper I will come to your room and tell you my plan!”

  Elizabeth smiled and nodded as Mr. Baker interrupted their conversation to take them into the grand parlor.

  “You cannot be serious,” Elizabeth exclaimed. Felicity laughed lightly and clapped her hands.

  “I am very serious, Lizzy,” she replied. “I have done this a thousand times, and no one has been the wiser.” Elizabeth shook her head and sat down on the edge of the massive bed in the chamber she had been given. She gnawed on her lip and looked at the tartan-wrapped bundle that Felicity had brought with her. “Let me show you,” she said.

  Felicity tugged at the twine that bound the bundle and unfolded it. She pulled a pair of woollen breeches, a man’s vest, and a tailored jacket from the tartan and laid them out on the bed.

  “You see, Lizzy,” she said with that same sly smile. “These have been tailored just for me. They disguise my hips, and a length of material bound around my chest make my feminine curves all but disappear. If we stay at the back of the shooting party, we will not be noticed! Your hair will be hidden under a gentleman’s hat, and we may partake in the merriment instead of being trapped in the parlor with the wives and daughters.”

  “But, Felicity—”

  “It is far more entertaining,” Felicity said practically. “Will you try them on? Perhaps you will feel more confident if you see yourself properly dressed!”

  Elizabeth was not certain, not at all, but Felicity would not be deterred and before she could protest, she had allowed Felicity to assist her in donning the men’s clothing, including a linen shirt and the tailored jacket.

  “It is very lucky that we are so close in size,” Felicity laughed. She tucked Elizabeth’s dark curls under a gentleman’s cap and pushed her toward the mirror. She closed her eyes, almost unwilling to look at herself, but then she opened one eye at a time and gasped as she beheld her reflection.

  “I—I look…”

  “Like a very well-dressed gentleman!” Felicity exclaimed. “You cannot tell me that it is not a remarkable transformation.”

  It was, indeed, remarkable, but Elizabeth could not bring herself to say anything. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She did look different. But if anyone were to look closely, they would know in an instant that she was in disguise.

  “It will never work,” she finally whispered.

  Felicity’s smiling face appeared over her shoulder. “I tell you, Lizzy, I have done it more times than I can count,” Felicity said.

  “And you have never been caught?”

  “Never,” she said firmly. “Women have played in their own golf tournament, why can we not go shooting as well?”

  “Golf is not shooting,” Elizabeth laughed.

  “Tell me you will think on it,” Felicity said as she helped Elizabeth shrug out of the jacket.

  Elizabeth looked at her reflection in the mirror once more and smiled. “I will think on it,” she agreed. “But if I say no, you will not ask me again.”

  “I promise,” Felicity agreed. “But you must not complain to me when you are left alone in the parlor with the other women and their dull conversation about accomplishments and who is to be married to whom. I cannot stand it.”

  Elizabeth stifled a gasp at her friend’s bold words as she stepped behind the screen to remove the men’s garments that Felicity had given her. “Do you do this… often?” Elizabeth asked haltingly. Felicity giggled and Elizabeth peered over the screen at her friend.

  “More often than Papa likes to admit,” she said. “I’ve even shot a rifle,” she whispered.

  Elizabeth gasped and then covered her mouth at the scandal of it all. “Really?”

  “I have!” Felicity declared proudly. “Mr. Scarborough, the gamekeeper—he found me looking at his guns… and he taught me how to hold them. How to stand like a man. Papa would be scandalized if he knew.”

  Elizabeth did not say it, but she knew that was a hard truth. But Felicity had not been deterred, and it had not stopped her from becoming engaged to one of the wealthiest landowners in the country.

  “Does—”

  Another coquettish giggle. Elizabeth could see Felicity’s smile as she wriggled out of the woollen breeches. They were rather comfortable.

  “Does Hamish know?” Felicity finished Elizabeth’s question for her and they laughed together briefly until Elizabeth pulled her gown over her head and draped the gentlemen’s clothes over her arm and emerged from behind the screen.

  “Felicity… Does he?” Elizabeth asked.

  “If he does he has not said anything,” Felicity admitted. “But, I daresay, if he did know, we might have more to talk about over supper. Did you know, Mr. Scarborough has even brought in a pheasant that I shot for supper!”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “No!”

  “Yes! I was very pleased with myself,” Felicity laughed. “Papa complimented him on the fine bird and Mr. Scarborough just winked at me and thanked him.”

  “What would happen if you were found out?” Elizabeth was scandalized. It was quite one thing to talk about, but do actually dress in a gentlemen’s clothing was entirely another.

  Felicity shrugged and kicked her feet. “I haven’t thought about it,” she said casually. “I suppose Papa would lecture me, and I would have to explain myself to Hamish… but I am not worried enough to stop. I have entirely too much fun being ‘Mr. Garret.’”

  “Mr. Garret?” Elizabeth’s mouth fell open.

  “Indeed. When I am wearing breeches and a waistcoat I am not Miss Felicity Baker, I am Mr. Garret. That way if Mr. Scarborough needs to send me a message or acquire anything for me, he has a name to use that no one will question.” Her eyes widened as an idea struck her. “But you shall need a name, too, Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth laid the clothes down upon the bed and looked at her friend seriously. “Felicity, I could not risk being discovered. My reputation—”

  “If I were to be found out, it would damage much more than my reputation,” she declared. “Hamish would be ridiculed at the club, my father would be embarrassed, Mr. Scarborough would surely lose his position here at the estate.” She shook her head. “I am very much aware of the risk I am taking, Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth perched on the edge of a chair and folded her hands
in her lap. Felicity was taking too many chances, and now she was expecting her to follow suit? “Why, then, do you do it?” she asked.

  “Because for just a little while I can forget about being Miss Baker,” she said simply.

  “Is being Miss Baker such a bad thing?”

  “No. Of course not. But sometimes it is nice to pretend that I was made for more than just sitting in a parlor waiting for life to happen to me.”

  Elizabeth did not know how to respond to that. She had not thought of her life in such a way before. Was she trapped in the same way that Felicity felt she was and not noticed?

  “Just tell me you will think about it,” Felicity said as she rose from her seat on the bed. She made no move to gather up the clothing she had brought for Elizabeth to try on. “There are two more days until the shoot, and I should love to have your company. If nothing else, it is a brisk walk in the autumn air, and there is nothing like the smell of heather in the early morning mist.”

  Felicity left the room without saying another word, and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and exhaustion. She had not yet been in the country for a day, and already she was feeling overwhelmed. Coming here should have been a grand distraction from all of the dramatics of Longbourn and the weight of settling back into life in Hertfordshire after all that had happened. But it was clear that coming to Grenleigh had its own set of challenges she would have to face—not the least of which was how to appease Felicity without putting her own reputation at risk.

  Elizabeth ran her hand over the fine woollen breeches and examined the tailoring of the vest. These had not been specially made to fit Felicity, and there was no question that there were several people involved in her deception.

  She folded the clothes carefully and placed them in a drawer in the wardrobe, hiding them beneath her nightdresses and wool stockings.

  “Out of sight,” she murmured aloud.

  If her friend was to be believed, Felicity Baker had been masquerading as a gentleman for some time—perhaps it was not as difficult as Elizabeth suspected.

  The days passed quickly, and Felicity did not bring up the hunt again except to point out the guests as they arrived. They were walking toward the estate’s gardens when one such party arrived. “Lord Buxton and his wife,” she whispered as a finely dressed couple stepped down from a very expensive looking carriage. “He is a fine sort, good breeding and all that, but she is a bore. For some reason all of the ladies are enthralled by her opinions on art and literature, but I daresay it would explain why the poor man drinks so heavily when he comes to visit.”

  Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter and nudged Felicity with her elbow. “Come now, and what about him?” Felicity’s eyes narrowed as she spied another gentleman with a limp who walked fast enough that his valet seemed to struggle to keep up. A woman with a sour look on her face followed behind the valet, and seemed none too pleased to be there.

  “Mr. Moss is an old friend of my father’s, he always brings too many guns, and his poor wife seems exasperated all the time.”

  “Really? That sounds like an awful marriage. Could you imagine such a thing?” Elizabeth could, indeed, imagine such a thing as she watched her own parents navigate such a relationship on a daily basis. Even though she tried to see the true affection in their partnership, she often wondered if patience and compromise was a skill she would have to cultivate. As her experiences in recent months had led her to believe, perhaps that was the only way to find any semblance of happiness.

  Felicity frowned as she watched the couple walk toward the house. “My Mama died when I was quite young, so I did not have the opportunity to observe their marriage. Papa never expressed any interest in a second marriage—perhaps that explains something about me.”

  Elizabeth smiled and looped her arm around her friend’s waist. “Perhaps it does.”

  “Shall I take you to meet Mr. Scarborough?” Felicity asked suddenly. Elizabeth was hesitant to agree, but Felicity seemed so eager that she could not decline. They walked together through the trees toward the gamekeeper’s small cabin. The barking of the hunting hounds alerted the elderly gentleman to their arrival and his smiling face appeared in the window as they drew near.

  Felicity waved happily and ran ahead to greet the man while Elizabeth picked her way carefully along the path. Her cheeks were flushed, both with the chill in the air and the knowledge that Mr. Scarborough was the keeper of Felicity’s secret. Could she trust him with a secret of her own?

  “Mr. Scarborough, I’ve brought someone to meet you,” Felicity called out as the man emerged from his cottage.

  “So I see, Miss Baker,” he exclaimed. Elizabeth liked him immediately, his quick smile and bright blue eyes set her at ease.

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, this is Mr. Scarborough. He has been gamekeeper here since Papa took over the estate.”

  “Nigh on twelve years now, Miss Bennet,” he said with a wink.

  “Has it really been twelve years?” Elizabeth gasped. Felicity laughed and nodded in agreement.

  “It seems like much longer, but that’s only because of how cold it is in winter,” she said with a smile. She turned her attention back to the gamekeeper and Elizabeth caught a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Mr. Scarborough, is everything ready for tomorrow?”

  The gamekeeper looked at Elizabeth briefly, but seeing that Felicity was unbothered by her presence the older man nodded briskly and smiled. “Yes, indeed, ma’am,” he said with a smile. “I have a rifle ready for Mr. Garret, and I will act as your guide myself.”

  Felicity clapped her hands merrily. “You are very kind!”

  “And will there be another gentleman joining you tomorrow?” Mr. Scarborough tipped his chin in Elizabeth’s direction but kept his eyes on Felicity.

  Felicity pouted for just a moment. “I am not certain, Mr. Scarborough, I have not yet had a reply to my invitation.”

  “Shall I prepare another rifle in case his reply arrives late?”

  “If it is not too much trouble,” Felicity said with a smile. “I shall have to make my invitation again and see if the gentleman will be agreeable to it.”

  “As you say, ma’am.” Mr. Scarborough tipped his hat and bid them good day as Felicity pulled Elizabeth away from the gamekeeper’s cottage and toward the house once more. Elizabeth’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  “Felicity, how—”

  “Oh, hush now,” she said briskly. “Mr. Scarborough is very discreet. He has kept my secret very well and I do not believe he has any intention of giving me away.” They walked along in silence for a few moments and Felicity’s grip tightened on Elizabeth’s arm. “Have you given some thought to joining me tomorrow morning?”

  “I—” Elizabeth had given it very careful thought, and meeting Mr. Scarborough had all but sealed her decision. Felicity seemed to sense that and she leaned closer.

  “I cannot bear the thought of you being trapped in the parlor with those horrible ladies all day,” Felicity giggled.

  Elizabeth sighed, she did not relish the thought, either. “Yes, Felicity, I will come with you.”

  Felicity squealed with joy and hugged Elizabeth tightly. “I am so very excited, Lizzy, I can barely contain myself!” Elizabeth laughed and returned her friend’s embrace. What harm could it do, a small deception, no one would ever have to know. She could not even tell Jane about something such as this. It would be her own secret to carry.

  “But we shall have to think of a name for your gentleman,” Felicity exclaimed.

  “Mr. Raleigh,” Elizabeth said and Felicity covered her mouth in surprise.

  “You have given this some thought!”

  Elizabeth smiled and she felt her cheeks heating more. She was really going to do this. Really going to go through with it. “However will we leave the house unnoticed?” she asked.

  “Quite easily,” Felicity said. Mr. Scarborough has always allowed me to change out of my dress in his cottage. We shall come he
re earlier—before the gentlemen leave the breakfast room—everything will be waiting for us.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She still did not quite believe that she had agreed to be a part of Felicity’s deception, but she could not deny that she was excited at the prospect of going about the forest in search of game. Perhaps she would even fire the rifle, but only if Felicity did, first.

  “We will stay to the rear of the hunting party, will we not?” Elizabeth asked desperately. It was one thing to dress up, but upon close inspection, anyone would be able to see that they were not what they seemed.

  “Of course!” Felicity smiled and laid a comforting hand upon Elizabeth’s arm. “Mr. Scarborough will keep us well away from the other gentlemen.”

  Despite her earlier misgivings, Elizabeth was reassured and Felicity’s smile was working to untie some of the knots in her stomach at the thought of being discovered in their deception.

  They walked back to the house briskly and then parted ways to dress for supper. All Mr. Baker’s invited guests had arrived, and Hamish McArthur was due to arrive at any moment.

  The house was ablaze with light from hundreds of lanterns and Elizabeth was once more surprised by the grandeur of the house. She did not recall the Baker’s house in Hertfordshire as anything so fine. And here it was, another childhood friend, engaged to be married before herself, and even Jane had secured a match for themselves.

  Elizabeth’s disappointment was bitter on her tongue and stayed with her throughout supper, and afterwards in the drawing room as she did her best to interact with the other guests and keep Felicity in the periphery of her vision as she floated about the room on the arm of Hamish McArthur, Lord Rackham.

  It was a pleasant evening, and the room was abuzz with the excitement of the hunt. The gentlemen spoke of their past conquests—how many deer, and it what weather—while the women huddled together over cards and talked about their husbands and gossip from London.