Chapter 13
Arthur
I watch Charlotte through the window, her hands clasped behind her back as she wanders the gardens. Her skirt brushes the ground as she moves, the picture of eloquence and mindful rearing.
To know she’s felt a disconnect her entire life with who she… she? …is and who she was raised to be is an agony inside I cannot quell. No amount of tea or critical thinking these past many days has brought me a solution.
Charlotte believes herself to be a man. A man stuck inside a woman’s body.
How do I help her?
“Oh,” I breathe aloud, the absolute simplicity of it walloping me upside the head.
Him.
How do I help him?
“Sir?” Willard says, stumbling upon me standing in front of the window near the staff halls at the back of the house. “Is there something you need? ”
I let out a slow breath before turning his way. “Yes, in fact. Could you please tell the others that the upstairs of the house is to be reserved for only myself and Charlotte until I say otherwise.”
Willard nods a tad jerkily. “Sir.”
“Thank you, Willard.”
Walking to the door, I step outside, the sun shining in a way that feels disingenuous.
As if it has the gall to be so merry when others are not.
Charlotte turns my way, a small, forced smile on…
his face I wish I could erase into something honest and true.
I stop before him, my fingers brushing the softness of his cheek, waiting for any indication I’m not welcome.
There is none, so I replace my fingers with my lips.
My love’s smile is a little brighter when I lean back.
“I had a thought,” I say.
“Oh my.” Charlotte’s retort is quick, his humor, apparently, still in good repair. “Thinking can be quite dangerous, I hear.”
My laughter is soft but relieved. I hold out my arm, and Charlotte takes it. “Would you join me in our chamber?”
“Arthur Kane, what could you possibly want with me there?”
“It’s not what you think,” I tell him, although that clearly would not have been ill received. “Trust me?”
His blue eyes are soft yet curious. “I do.”
I lead Charlotte…my love through the house and up the stairs, closing the door behind us.
I have no doubt Willard will spread my request for the staff to stay on the first level until I give the go-ahead to resume normal duties, so our privacy is already ensured.
But I’m more than certain my love would appreciate the peace of mind a closed door allows .
“First,” I say, leading him to sit in the chair at the corner of the room and standing before him. “There’s a matter I must ask you, for it is weighing on my mind. Your name.”
He nods slowly, brows drawn.
“Would you prefer another?”
Those eyebrows rise, his surprise evident. “Another name?”
“Yes. Does Charlotte suit you? It is quite feminine.”
He blinks at me, looking so very lost I drop to my knees, my hands resting on his own.
“You are a man,” I say softly. “Inside your heart. Are you not?”
He licks his lips before nodding ever so slowly.
I ease out a breath, immensely glad I’m still on the right track. “Then perhaps you would prefer another name? If not, say the word, and Charlotte you will be.”
His words come slowly. “You would call me by another?”
“Forevermore,” I promise.
He swallows several times, his gaze not on me but unseeing within the room. Finally, he says, “Could I be Charlie?”
I pick up his hand, kissing the back side once and then again. “Charlie,” I repeat. “My Charlie.”
He looks close to tears, but they don’t fall. Never have I seen him cry, in all the years we’ve known one another.
“How is this so easy for you?” His voice trembles, words hoarsely spoken. “You do not ridicule me. Do not look at me with disgust. I don’t understand how you can possibly accept it.”
I close my eyes for a moment, Charlie’s hand warm in my own. He’s shaking, but he hasn’t pulled away. “Have you heard of René Descartes?”
“The philosopher? ”
I hum and open my eyes. “There’s a principle by which he’s most known. ‘I think, therefore I am.’”
Charlie watches me curiously, so I go on.
“I know I exist because I think. Because I think, I exist. I have no real proof that anything else is real, but I know my conscious thoughts to be. Correct?”
He nods slowly.
“The same is true for you,” I say, squeezing his hand.
“Which brings me to two conclusions I came to earlier that are, in fact, one and the same. Either you think you are a man, therefore you are one. Or my own brain has produced all of this, in which case I am to decide what’s real. And you’re real to me, Charlie.”
His chin wobbles. “So you accept me? As I am?”
“Exactly as you are.”
“Arthur.” My name on his lips is the same as it’s ever been. Lovely and warm. “I thought you were a mathematician. Not a philosopher.”
I expel a soft laugh. “Scientific thought belongs to us all, my dear.”
Charlie’s eyes twinkle with a lightness I’m beyond grateful to see, but then he sobers quickly. “And what of religion? What of our vows to the church?”
My sigh is small. It’s a complication I considered, of course. No one—not in the church, not elsewhere—would understand Charlie’s predicament. It’s unheard of, as far as I’m aware. But I’ve never been devout, and my conviction in my love far outweighs the teachings of faith.
“Despite what they would have us believe,” I say slowly, “the church does not reside within these walls. I will not have you feeling ill at ease in your own home, my love. The rest of the world may not understand nor condone it, but they do not need to, as far as I’m concerned.
Here, at home, you will be who you were always meant to be. As long as that is your wish.”
His inhale is broken, his hand squeezing mine to the point of pain. “And the staff?”
“I will talk with them. If there are problems, we will find new staff.”
“Arthur, I don’t know how to take this all in. You have to understand—I feel as if I’m dreaming.”
“If it’s a good dream, let’s not wake, hm?”
Charlie lets out a laugh, a lopsided smile transforming his face into near radiance. I give his hand another squeeze before standing.
“May I try something?” I ask.
He nods, brushing his hair back as I walk around the bed to my wardrobe. I pull out a pair of trousers that haven’t fit me in some time, as well as a simple white shirt with a cravat tie. Charlie watches me with curiosity as I walk back his way.
“Would you stand for me, Charlie dear?”
His breath stutters again, at the name perhaps?
But he does as I request, smoothing the fabric of his ill-fitted dress down, the reminder of its presence seeming to sour his mood.
I backtrack to the vanity, returning with a pair of scissors in hand.
Charlie’s eyes widen when I tug the fabric away from his skin and cut it straight down the middle.
“Arthur, good grief!” His hands move to cover his chest before he laughs and lets them fall at his sides. I pull the ruined fabric off his arms one at a time before tossing it aside, meeting Charlie’s eye as I pinch his petticoat between my fingers. He throws his hands into the air. “Oh, why not?”
With a grin, I cut the petticoat away. It falls at Charlie’s feet, leaving him nude in front of me apart from his stockings and heels.
There’s a heavy pinch in my gut knowing this body is not one he feels safe in.
It’s lovely to me, always has been. But it doesn’t define the person I fell almost instantly in love with.
I crouch down, helping Charlie from his heels, my eyes meeting his as I pull his stockings away. He swallows, cheeks pink, and I kiss one bare knee before standing.
Charlie’s expression is serious as I pull my spare shirt over his head.
With his arms through and the cotton covering his modesty, I slowly tie the fabric around his neck into a standard cravat.
I grab the trousers next, holding them as Charlie steps one and then two legs inside.
It’s too wide around his waist, so I pluck a pin from his hair to keep the extra fabric together.
A curl lies loose in front of Charlie’s cheek as he watches me, and he doesn’t protest when I walk around him to tuck it away.
I do the same to the other loose pieces of hair framing his face, until every single one is hidden away behind his head.
Stepping in front of him, I hold out my hand. “Shall we have a look?”
Charlie remains unmoving for a long second before finally accepting my palm. I walk with him to the vanity mirror, realizing only once we’re in front of it that Charlie’s eyes are closed.
“My love,” I say softly. “You can open your eyes.”
It takes time. Time in which I don’t rush him. He breathes in and out, preparing himself, I’d wager, for disappointment. Or perhaps precisely the opposite.
Finally, his eyes draw open, the blue flitting wildly from his shirt to his trousers, up to his hair, and then completing the circuit again.
It’s not perfect. I know that. His chest still swells the fabric of the shirt, and his hair is not how a man would wear it.
But even so, the way his shoulders square at once and how his chin lifts at the sight of himself in the mirror has my happiness ballooning .
I give Charlie’s shoulders a soft squeeze. “You are so handsome, my dear.”
His hand finds mine, tightening, his eyes in the glass near frantic. “You cannot be real.”
“I am to me,” I assure him. “And if you believe it to be true, then, well… I suppose I am real to you, as well.”
Charlie spins, kissing me swiftly, his nails biting into my skin. I do not mind it. I kiss him back, hitching him up into my arms, holding tight as his legs tighten around my waist. The move is far easier without the skirts.
“I love you.” He peppers me with kisses amidst his words, the onslaught most welcome. “I love you. I love you so.”
“My heart,” I say, my insides light. “I pray you never stop.”
Charlie frames my face, pulling back enough to look at me. “How do I repay you for this, Art? How could I ever?”
I let him drop slowly to the floor, although I don’t let go completely. I can see the war in his eyes, the fear that this could be taken from him. I don’t know how to soothe his worries other than through consistency and time.
“There is no debt here,” I say in seriousness, turning Charlie once more so he can see himself in the mirror.
The high neckline of his shirt is quite fetching.
He’ll need waistcoats, as well. A couple warm coats for when it’s colder.
And trousers in his size. Boots. More shirts.
A full wardrobe. “Seeing you happy is a gift you need never repay. I don’t quite think you understand, my dear.
I would give all of myself, freely, if only to ensure your smile. ”
His expression flickers. “But then you would be left with nothing.”
“No,” I disagree, straightening his cravat. “I would have gained quite a lot. ”
Charlie’s lips press together, the look in his eyes almost reproachful except for the good humor I can so clearly see: the enjoyment he gets from these word games we play. I quite think I’ve found my match in Charlie Kane.
I give his shoulders another squeeze, our reflections staring back at us. “What do you think?”
Charlie takes a moment to look himself over. Slowly this time. A measured appraisal. “I think I’ve never felt this free. Even if I look ridiculous.”
“You do not,” I promise, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. His hands come up to hold my wrists.
“What if we have company?”
I hum, quickly mulling. “Would it pain you to put on a dress for such an occasion?”
He takes a moment to consider it. “I think it would be bearable. If I know I can return to this after.”
I kiss his cheek, pleased to hear so, even as I wish such a thing weren’t a necessity. “No unexpected visitors will be allowed. Any company, we will plan for. It’ll be a play, my love. A short one. And when they go, you and I will be free to be ourselves once more.”
“You as well?”
His tone is curious, but my answer is easy.
“Yes. It will not bring me any measure of joy to pretend you’re someone you’re not, Charlie. But I won’t risk your safety. To the outside world, nothing will have changed.”
“Even though everything has.”
I don’t refute it, knowing, to Charlie, his world has changed. Drastically. And, I hope against hope, for the eternal better.
Yet I can’t help but think this world is due for much bigger. Not just within these walls, but far and wide .
I suppose change only happens because of those who press for it.
“Where have you gone?” Charlie’s question is gentle. Inquisitive.
“Not far,” I assure him. “Shall I grab us some lunch? And then perhaps we could discuss how you’d like the staff to address you going forward?”
He nods, and I give his cheek another kiss before leaving him to settle into his new normal. All the while, my mind conjures ways I can make this world a better one for the only person I’ve ever wished to share it with.