Page 51 of The Last Necromancer
"I'm not concerned about running and hiding," I told her. "I am concerned about breathing."
"I won't lace it too tight."
Could I believe a woman whose own corset had deformed her waist to an unnaturally tiny size?
She lowered the device and took my hand in hers. "You cannot parade yourself near the men without a corset. It's indecent."
"It wasn't a problem before."
"They didn't know you were a girl before. Now that they do, I'm afraid they will be…looking for evidence of your femininity."
I snorted. "They'll have to look very hard. My femininity is not very noticeable, even without a corset."
"My dear, we both know what men think of women who don't wear proper underwear." Her voice took on a sympathetic hush and the color rose to her cheeks. Had Fitzroy told her what had happened to me when I first found myself on the streets? Even though he'd promised not to? Or was her statement merely a general one? "I'm sure you've seen how the prostitutes dress."
"Some of them wear those contraptions."
"Loosely."
"What will you do if I continue to refuse?"
"I'll instruct Mr. Fitzroy to deliver you to my house this afternoon, where you will be safe from the roaming gazes of Seth and Gus."
The notion brought an inexplicable swell of disappointment to my chest. I'd fought tooth and nail to get free, and yet I wasn't prepared to leave Lichfield Towers for a residence I knew nothing about, with a woman who would make me wear corsets and act like a lady.
I snatched the corset off her and put it on over the new chemise. I turned my back to her and gasped as she pulled hard on the laces. "You said you wouldn't do it tight!"
"This isn't tight." She pulled again, jerking my entire body toward her. "Hold onto the bedpost."
I grumbled as she finished the lacing, then stood like a ridiculous statue with a straight back. I tried to draw in a deep breath, only to find my chest wouldn't expand enough. "This is torture."
"It gives you a fine shape." She smiled. "You almost look respectable. Now, the petticoats."
She helped me slip two petticoats over my drawers, then a black cotton gown over the top. The outfit was a spare one that had been used by a previous servant girl in her household. It was a little large, but not a bad fit. I'd hoped for something prettier when she'd announced that she would be outfitting me in women's clothing upon her arrival. If I had to wear a dress again, I'd prefer it to be something with a bustle in a brighter color. The servant's garb was drab.
I laced up the boots, but she wouldn't let me out of the bedroom until she'd fixed my hair. There was little she could do, with it being so short, but she managed to make it a little more feminine with the strategic placement of a few pins at the front and a bonnet positioned toward the back.
I admired her handiwork in the dressing table mirror and had to admit she'd done a fine job. I looked like a woman, albeit a somewhat gaunt one with owlish eyes.
"They'll wonder how they ever mistook you for a boy." Lady Harcourt touched a finger under my chin and turned my head this way and that to inspect me from all angles. "You're quite pretty, with that sweet oval face and those big blue eyes." She let me go with a sigh. "You will have to come home with me after all."
"No! I'm remaining here. Or I leave altogether," I added.
She blinked. Was she offended? "Why don't you want to live with me? My house is larger than this. I have many servants, some of them girls of your age. You'll be bound to find a friend among them."
"I do not wish to be your servant, Lady Harcourt. As kind as you have been to me, I prefer it here."
"But there are only men here!"
"Men are only large boys, and I'm used to boys."
She spluttered a laugh. "I'm afraid you can't stay. I cannot, in all conscience, leave you here. Besides, Fitzroy won't know what to do with you, now that you're a girl. He has almost admitted as much to me."
I stormed past her and opened the bedroom door. Fitzroy looked up from his desk and his eyes widened. He took in my dress and hair with a cool, sweeping gaze that finally settled on my face.
"Is there a problem?" he asked, looking past me to Lady Harcourt. Despite his casual stance and words, his mouth was set firm and his eyes were hard. From the little I'd seen of him that morning, he was still furious with me for refusing to help. Well, I was furious too, and I wasn't giving in.
"I am not going to live with her," I said, hands on hips. "Either you keep me here as your prisoner, or you let me go."
