by Wendy Vella
“That tears it, varlet! I demand suitable recompense for my daughter’s honor,” Archer said, waving a cutlass through the air.
“I—” William stuttered, trying to push the mostly unclothed Sarah—Mary—behind him.
“He ravished me!” She raised a hand to her forehead and flopped back dramatically against his pillows. When he glared at her, she stifled a giggle.
Then William stared at Mr. Archer, his gaze fixed on the sword. “I—”
“Marriage?” the silver-haired man offered in a tentative voice. “That is—”
The distinct impression of being grandly outmaneuvered crept over William. He looked at Mr. Archer, the silver-haired man, and Sarah, or rather, Mary. They all stared back at him expectantly.
Definitely outmaneuvered.
And he couldn’t have been happier.
“I—”
“That’s it, vicar. He agrees,” Archer said. “I’m grateful to you for accompanying me. Now, shall we get this over with?”
The mattress jiggled. William gripped Sarah’s slender wrist when she threatened to leave the sanctuary of his bed. “Are you absolutely sure?”
Her gray eyes glowed. “Yes.”
“Then yes. I think we had better,” he said. “And then you will leave. I have a great deal to say to your daughter, Mr. Archer.”
“I should—” she said.
“You will stay where you are,” William said, pulling her against him. He placed a heavy arm over her shoulders. This time, she was not getting away from him, honor be damned.
“Indeed,” Archer said in an approving voice.
“Now, Vicar, if you please?” William asked.
The vicar nodded and gently opened his bible.
And as William settled back against the pillows and held Sarah’s warm body against him, he smiled. She was right about his laziness, after all.
Somehow, he had managed to get everything he ever desired without leaving the comfort of his bed.
THE END
Note to Readers
Female Foot Boy!
An account of the Extraordinary Life and Adventures of Catherine Wilson, an interesting young woman, about twenty years of age, daughter of respectable parents, near Perth, who assumed man’s apparel at the age of fourteen, and hired herself to a drover, when she came to Edinburgh, and got into a respectable gentleman’s family as foot boy, but being discharged was compelled to work as a bricklayer’s labourer; how she assumed the name of John Thomson, and married her landlady’s daughter, Mary Gray, and on Saturday last resumed her petticoats. …
So began an article from the broadsheets of the period that caught my attention and imagination. Catherine Wilson’s story was true, and she is not the only woman known to have taken on a male identity to gain the freedom to make a living during a period when there were not many respectable jobs a woman could have.
As you may have guessed, I modeled Sarah on Catherine, right down to the job as a bricklayer. Both women were orphaned and forced to make a living, but Sarah had a mystery to solve while Catherine was just trying to support herself.
I also skipped a few of Catherine’s various jobs, and I managed to save my character, Sarah, from marrying her landlady’s daughter, although it was a close call. But it was Catherine’s capitulation to her landlady’s demand to marry her daughter (who was abandoned after getting pregnant) that led to Catherine’s unmasking and downfall.
For those interested, Catherine’s story did not end too badly. While she was forced to put her skirts back on, she managed to find employment and presumably led a long and happy life despite her early adventures.
I like to think Catherine Wilson would have approved of Sarah and enjoyed this story immensely.
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About the Author
Amy Corwin is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America and recently joined Mystery Writers of America. She writes historical and cozy mysteries with a touch of romance, as well as paranormal romances. To be truthful, most of her books include a bit of murder and mayhem since she discovered that killing off at least one character is a highly effective way to make the remaining ones toe the plot line.
Join her and discover that every good mystery has a touch of romance.
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