She was already wearing a newly tailored pair of men’s breeches, which, she had to admit, were surprisingly comfortable despite her feeling thoroughly indecent wearing them. Underneath, she wore thick stockings and a pair of boots that they had bribed from a stable boy.
As her stomach tumbled with nerves and Anne swaddled her in linen, Callie refused to consider the absolute humiliation that would come of her being discovered dressed as a man in one of London’s most male of establishments. She had come too far to quit now.
Taking a deep breath as Anne tucked the tail of the fabric under her arm, Callie lifted her list from the bed and inserted it between the linen bindings and her skin, unwilling to leave the house on this particular mission without the talisman. She then took up a billowing linen shirt and slipped it over her head, tucking it into the waistband of her breeches. Turning to Anne, she asked, “Well? Can you tell I’m a lady?”
Anne raised a solitary brow at the question, at which point Callie added, “Fine. Can you tell I am female?”
“Yes.”
“Anne!” Callie rushed to the mirror. “Really?”
“Let’s finish the transformation, then see where we are,” the maid said, matter-of-factly.
“Fair enough.” Callie allowed Anne access to her neck as the maid worked to tie a cravat in some approximation of one of the elaborate knots that were the current style. Then, she put on a beige waistcoat and slipped into a dark green topcoat before sitting at the dressing table and allowing Anne to hide her hair. “It’s a pity that I shan’t have you on the way home, Anne. How will I remember it all?”
“Oh, you’ll remember. You’ll have to.”
Callie swallowed, watching as the maid placed a hat upon her head, working diligently to tuck any stray tendrils inside the cap. “You cannot take this off until you put your fencing mask on.”
“Believe me, I shan’t.” Callie shook her head tentatively, testing the stability of the hat. “Will it stay?”
Anne opened her mouth to respond as a knock sounded and the door to the room opened.
“Callie? Mother said you were feeling ill? Is there something—” Mariana’s question ended on a scream as she registered the man sitting in her sister’s bedchamber.
The sound spurred Callie and Anne into motion, both spinning away from the dressing table and toward Mariana. Anne closed the door to the room firmly, pressing her back against the wood and spreading her arms out to block Mari’s exit. Callie headed for her sister, who was frantically shaking her head at the image that Callie made, dressed head to toe in men’s clothing.
“Shh! Mariana! You’ll bring the house running!”
Mari cocked her head at her sister’s words, and Callie waited as understanding dawned. “What are you doing dressed like that?” the younger girl whispered.
“It’s rather complicated,” Callie hedged.
“My Lord!” Mari went on, eyes wide. “It’s incredible! I actually thought you a man when I entered!”
“I noticed! I suppose I have that to be thankful for, at least!” Callie turned her attention to Anne. “Is anyone out there?”
Anne shook her head. “I think it is too late in the day for there to be many people above stairs.”
Mari could not contain her curiosity, “Callie, why are you dressed as a man?”
“I—I—” Callie looked to Anne for help. The maid crossed her arms defiantly and raised both eyebrows, leaving Callie with no aid. “Mari—I’ll tell you—but you must keep my secret.”
“Of course!” Mari’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I love secrets!” She hopped up on the bed and waved a hand at Callie. “Turn around so I can see the whole disguise!” Callie did as she was told.
“Amazing! What did you do to your…” Mari waved her hand in the general direction of Callie’s chest.
Callie sighed. “We bound them.”
Mari turned to Anne. “Excellent work!” The maid nodded in acknowledgment of the praise. Mari turned a bright smile on Callie. “Now, go on.”
Taking a deep breath, Callie began, “Several weeks ago, I made a list of the things I would do if I had the courage to risk my reputation.” Mariana’s jaw dropped, and Callie discovered that was the hardest part of the tale—once it was out, the rest seemed rather easy to tell. Skipping the visit to Ralston’s home, she told her sister about her visit to the Dog and Dove.
“What was it like?”
“The tavern?” At Mari’s eager nod, Callie said, “Fascinating.”
“And the scotch?”
“Horrid. But not as horrid as the cheroot.”
“The cheroot?” Mari’s mouth gaped again.
Callie blushed. “After the tavern, I came home and Benedick and I smoked a cheroot.”
“Benedick let you smoke a cheroot?” Mari’s response was incredulous.
“Shh! Yes, but you cannot tell him you know.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Mari paused, an impish grin crossing her face. “At least, not yet, not until I need something from him.”
“So,” Callie pushed on, “I decided that this afternoon is the time for the next item on the list.”
“Which is?”
“Fencing.”
Mariana blinked, absorbing Callie’s words. “Fencing!” She looked Callie up and down. “You can’t wear that fencing.”
“I have a fencing suit tailored to fit me. I shall change into it at the club. Once I’m safely inside.”