A Time to Every Season

by Tigger
Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved

 

Part II

 

Chapter 17: Strength or Weakness?

The house was, Marie decided, just too quiet. *You'd think that only Jane and I were home instead of having two energetic young people around to liven things up.* Marie knew that Darla was keeping to her room, in part because of the pretense of another difficult menses, but mostly so that they could let her scratches air a bit before it became necessary to keep them covered around Audrey. *Well, then maybe I will go and see if I can't goose Audrey, just a bit. Peace and quiet be damned!*

Marie found the girl seated on the sofa in the front parlor, not-reading a book. There were two clues that immediately told the experienced observer of human-behavior that Audrey wasn't actually reading the book she held on her lap. First, the girl's eyes were completely still. Instead of moving with the text on the page, they were blank and staring through the pages. Second, and more telling, was the book was upside down.

Grinning, Marie cleared her throat loudly, and receiving no immediate response, moved closer and did it again. That got a reaction as Audrey jumped in surprise. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and then tried to compose herself. "Hi, Tante Marie. Were you looking for me?"

"Yes. But I don't want to take you away from your reading. Good book?" she asked innocently.

Guiltily, Audrey looked away. "Oh, yes, very interesting."

"Well, I will be sure to let Jane know how you are exercising your mind. It must be very difficult to read such a book UPSIDE DOWN AND BACKWARDS!"

Audrey's eyes flew to Marie and then to the book in her hands, and felt her cheeks go hot. "Busted," she sighed ruefully.

Smiling gently, Marie picked up the book and read the title aloud, "'International Trade Law: Keeping Your Company's Assets in an Increasingly Litigious World Market'. Heavens, girl, why would you ever pick that book up to begin with?"

With a self-deprecating grin, Audrey replied, "I didn't even look. I just grabbed the first book I saw and came in here with it."

"What were you thinking about so hard?" Marie asked, "That you did not hear me come in or realize what you were looking at?"

Audrey hesitated, and Marie thought she could almost see the girl looking for the right words. She decided it was time to be a bit more direct than was her usual habit with one of Jane's students. "Are you still worrying at having seen Darryl weeping over that rabbit this morning?"

The girl's eyes went wide in surprise at Marie's perception, and then nodded. "Why does that bother you so much, cherie?" Marie asked very gently as she sat down on the sofa beside the younger woman.

"I've never seen a boy. . a man cry like that. I always thought breaking down like that was something out of movies or novels."

Marie heard more than the girl said, and challenged her. "There is more to it than that, Audrey. What you just described would have been at most a mere curiosity, something out of your experiences, but it is clearly more than that. Seeing Darryl cry has disturbed you. Why?"

"I thought he was strong!" Audrey flared and then caught herself. "I was starting to care for him, to RESPECT him, and now I find out I am wrong about him."

*oHO,* Marie thought. *Here there be dragons.* "So, you are now questioning everything about Darryl because you believe his bout of sorrow for a small, innocent animal makes him less than you thought him to be?"

"Well, I didn't mean to. . .but. . "

"No buts, Missie," Marie ordered. "You believe his tears to be a sign of weakness? Yes or no."

"Well, yes. . . I mean, aren't they?"

"What if I told you that you are wrong. That only the strong can cry when it really matters."

Audrey looked at Marie suspiciously. "Off hand, I'd say you might believe that, but that I don't."

"What about Jane? Do you believe she is weak?"

"Jane? You mean Ms. Thompson?"

"Yes, I do, and I think you should call her Jane in this discussion, so that you can discuss her objectively."

Audrey thought about that, and nodded. Gathering herself, she replied, "Well, I can't see Jane crying, let along understanding tears in a man. She is a very strong, very controlled and contained woman. I don't see her giving anyone that kind of advantage over her, seeing her reduced to tears like that."

"Oh, my dear girl," Marie said softly, "You simply must learn to be more sensitive to people. Haven't you realized yet that Jane is not nearly as hard as she puts on? It's a front, a tool she uses to get her students' attention, but do you really think that a woman as hard as that would dedicate herself to helping children and young people such as yourself? Why, she is the softest-hearted, most loving person I know. If anyone understands the need to cry, she does."

"Jane?!" Audrey's voice cracked in her surprise.

"Certainly," Marie said with quiet, unshakable assurance. "Look, go talk to her. About men crying. I'm telling you, she *understands*.

~--------------~

Audrey raised her hand to the wood-paneled door for what must have been the fifth time. *She's going to think you're crazy, Rockwell, even to be thinking about a boy while we're in her feminine sanctuary.* one part of her mind sneered. *But Marie wouldn't ask you to do something that would get you laughed at,* the other part of her mind reassured her. She steeled herself, closed her eyes, and smartly rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Enter."

Audrey found Jane, seated at her desk, a pair of half-rim reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. It was an oddly comforting scene, she thought, almost as if the imperfection of needing glasses made this awesome woman somehow more approachable.

"Hello, Audrey," Jane greeted her cordially, "Is there something you need?"

"I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes, if you have the time. Marie said that I should," she added quickly, "But I don't want to interrupt. . "

Jane lifted her hand. "If Marie said you should speak with me, then of course I have the time. Her instincts in such matters, I have found over our years together, are nearly infallible." She rose from her seat and gestured her student in the direction of the conversation furniture grouping near the hearth. "Would you like me to call for tea?"

"No, thank you, Ms. Thompson," Audrey replied as she took the seat Jane indicated and watched the older woman take her own.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about," Jane asked.

"Well, it is kinda. .," Audrey caught herself, saw Jane smile and then pressed on "That is, I mean, it is somewhat difficult to explain. . "

Jane could see that, and decided to help Audrey deal with that difficultly. "Start at the beginning, girl, and tell it like a story to one of the children at the hospital - step by step, scene by scene."

Nodding, Audrey began to speak, starting with the early morning rescue of the ill-fated rabbit.

As a teacher, Jane understood the power of 'wait-time' in dealing with questions or other issues. Rather than respond immediately, she took a few moments to let everything Audrey had related to her sink in, and to permit them both to organize their thinking. *So, Darryl was right to be concerned about her reaction to his tears. Would this have been less difficult if I had forced her to experience her own?*

"And so," Jane concluded, "You are worried that crying somehow makes your companion unsuitable or untrustworthy?" Audrey nodded, and Jane could see that the conclusion bothered her greatly. *You are coming to care for Darryl a great deal, aren't you, Miss Chastity Rocky Audrey Rockwell? And the fear that he is less than you originally thought is greatly distressing you.*

Deciding she had to take a chance, Jane reached out and took Audrey's hand in hers. The hand was damp with sweat, and felt cold in Jane's own. "You know, don't you, Audrey, that I have taught young men as well as young women?"

Audrey wondered at the seeming change of subject, still had the presence of mind to reply. "Tante. . I mean, Miss Marie has told me that, Ma'am."

"If Marie has given you permission to call her by that familial term, you may certainly use it in my presence, dear," Jane reassured her, "In any case, the young people with the worst behavior problems, at least of the kind that are suitable for correction through learning self-discipline, are often boys."

The thought of rough and tumble bad boys in the very feminine surroundings of Ms. Jane Thompson's Seasons House tickled Audrey's sense of the ridiculous. "Boys? I can just see you putting boys through those makeup and clothes variations you ran by me," she said with a pleasingly husky chuckle.

Smiling, Jane waved that aside. "Ah, well, be that as it may, the point is that I have found that the very best men, those who have resilient strength rather than brittle and superficial hardness, have all learned that crying is not a sign of weakness. They do not cry because of selfish desires not met, but they are truly and deeply touched by injustice, especially when it is not within their power to correct. One of the things I strive for, when I take on a boy with a history of violence, is to put him in situations where he feels he cannot react violently under stress. Getting them to release their strong emotions through non-violent tears instead of through violent anger is most often the first step . . . It shows them that there are alternatives to violence, and that they can be effective in dealing with intense emotions without harm to themselves or to others."

Audrey was stunned by this revelation, and her first reaction was to ask her teacher if she was exaggerating or somehow pulling her leg, but something in Jane's eyes stopped her. "And that works?"

"Most times. I will admit having lost two boys back to the legal system that sent them to me. My other students have all gone on to become solid citizens and family persons. Many are doctors, teachers and social workers trying to help others."

"You sound like the proud matriarch of the family in one of those schmaltzy black and white movies on the late show."

"I am proud of them," Jane assured the girl, and there was a soft smile on the older woman's face when she said that, the likes of which Audrey had never seen cross those lips before. "And from what you said, it would seem that the situation young Mr. Smith found himself in was of the nature I described earlier. I, quite frankly, find nothing weak about a man such as that."

"I see," Audrey said carefully. "Ms. Thompson?"

"Yes, Audrey?"

"Marie told me that Darryl. . .Mr. Smith was one of your students. Are you sure that you aren't letting that color your opinion of him? Particularly if you tried to make him cry?"

"Marie sometimes talks too much," Jane said in a muttering, mock growl before relenting. "But to answer your question, no, I don't. Darryl was indeed my student, at least for a short time, and I think the world of him, but if I did not think he was the kind of strong, caring, compassionate young man you just described in your story, he would not have been asked to be your exercise partner."

"OH?" Audrey felt her hackles rise.

"Oh, calm down, child," Jane ordered. "You know how you felt about men when you arrived here. The person who worked with you had to be strong enough, gentle enough and sure enough of himself to deal with that part of you. Don't you agree?" Jane demanded, one finely shaped brow arching in challenge.

It was very hard, Audrey found, to look at yourself so objectively and honestly, to confront those aspects of your personality that might not be of the highest order. Somehow she managed, and discovered to her chagrin, that much of what Jane had just said was true. Finally, she exhaled loudly. "Oh, all right. I agree with both your assessments of me and of Darryl. I do find it odd, though," she continued, her voice becoming pensive, "that Darryl ever needed the kind of therapy you described - the forced crying stuff - or that he was ever violent. I mean. . he's . . well, really special."

Unexpectedly, a warm, loving smile made the older woman's face glow with happiness. "Yes, he is, that boy of. . " and Jane caught herself just before she gave away the game by calling Darryl 'that boy of mine'. "many talents," she managed to finish.

"But he was sent here? Why? Surely not for violence."

Jane shook her head. "That is what the record said, but it was lacking some important facts that came to light during his stay with me. Actually, he did not need my program. What he needed was an escape from a very bad and dangerous family situation before he was scarred - physically, emotionally and mentally - forever. Being sent to me gave him that escape, and a chance he would never have had otherwise."

"What a loss," Audrey murmured, "if such a nice person had been lost that way."

Jane heard that, and smiled. "I quite agree, and his rescue is one of the truly great accomplishments of my life. Now, what say we go see what Marie is planning for lunch. You missed breakfast and I do SO hate to eat alone, so I only picked at mine. I find I am quite famished."

"Me, too," Audrey said, with the first real smile Jane had seen from her that morning. "Ms. Thompson?" Jane looked at the girl expectantly. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, dear," Jane said gently. "Truly, my pleasure."

~--------------~

"Interesting," Art mused on the phone late that night. "But tell me again - Darryl IS all right? The cuts weren't really bad? You're sure he didn't need to go to hospital?"

"Yes, Daddy-Di," Jane said in loving exasperation, "for the tenth and last time, he's FINE! Darla will be able to make her return appearances tomorrow, albeit in opaque, long sleeve outfits to hide the scratches. Marie is good with coverup cosmetics, but not that good."

"Okay," Art said hesitantly, "I will say one thing, though. If Audrey was that put off by Darryl's crying now, after several months of your brand of sensitivity training, I think it is clear you were right not to encourage HER to cry earlier in her stay with you. She wasn't open enough at that point to see such emotion as anything but a loss of dignity and thus self esteem."

"True," Jane agreed, "She didn't have any of that to spare at that point, either."

"So now what do you do?"

"We'll let things simmer for a bit and see how Audrey reacts to Darryl the next time they're together. Personally, I think that once she's convinced herself that my view of the world is correct, or at least, not entirely IN-correct, her feelings will open up still further, particularly with regard to Darryl."

"No shotgun weddings, now," Art teased.

"Not bloody likely!" Jane snorted. "Darryl knows I'd skin him."

"Oh, I'm sure he's terrified."

"Well, if not of me, then of Audrey. Or at least, how Audrey will react when she learns of his double life."

"You think that is going to happen? The original plan was for her never to find out that Darla is Darryl."

"Do you really think that a woman, even a woman who has so few of the classic feminine wiles and skills as our Audrey did when she arrived, is not going to solve that puzzle eventually? The REAL question is, what do we do when she does?"

Art thought about it and sighed. "I just don't know, dear. I've been trying to figure that out for myself. I think the only viable solution is to wait and then play it by ear when it happens."

"I don't like that solution!" Jane snapped back.

"I know, but that's because you are a control freak, my love."

The sound that answered him sounded like what the camel said to the djinn and Art laughed happily. It was a rare and wonderful thing to get the last word with his beloved Jane Thompson-Philips.

 

Chapter 18: Crisis Aftermath

Darryl blew on his chilled fingers, trying to find some warmth in the cold darkness, and then found himself yawning. Sleep had again been hard to come by the previous night. At four a.m., he'd finally given up trying and gone to work on a final project for one of his courses, but he'd been unable to focus. That was why Darryl now found himself down by the stables almost an hour before Audrey could reasonably expected to arrive.

"You're dithering, Thompson," he told himself in an unconscious mimicry of his adoptive mother. However, that recognition did nothing to stop the dithering. *If you were honest with yourself, Darryl, m'lad, you'd admit that you're afraid. Afraid that she won't want to be with you any more. Hell, afraid that she won't even come here to work out with you this morning.*

It would be a very long time, if ever, before Darryl forgot the look of surprise and distaste on her lovely face when she had seen him sitting in the dirt, a dead rabbit in front of him.

He began to wander about the stable grounds using a small flashlight to guide him. Perhaps it was because the incident of the falling tree was so recent, but he was amazed to find a sturdy young maple tree with most of its leaves still in place. *Must have been in the lee of the stable when the storm hit,* Darryl mused. *Well, might as well head back and find out if she's going to show up.*

To Darryl's surprise and relief, Audrey was waiting for him when he arrived back at their usual rendevous spot. She was leaning against the railing of the small corral-type outdoor arena with her back was to him as he quietly approached.

At the last moment, she heard him, and half turned toward him so that her face was softly illuminated by a distant yard light. *God, she's beautiful,* Darryl thought. "Hi."

She turned fully to face him, leaning back on to the fence. "Hi yourself," she replied quietly. "You okay?"

"Okay?" he asked, confused.

"Your arms," she qualified. "You said they got scratched up yesterday."

"Oh," Darryl mumbled, feeling like a bumbling fool and then pulled up his sleeves and displaying his arms discolored by the red-staining antiseptic Marie favored over Jane's colorless preference. "They'll be fine. . are fine."

"Good," she replied, her gaze dropping to her feet. Her running shoes must have been fascinating in the dim light, because for a long moment both teenagers stared at them.

The silence echoed in the darkness, louder every second, until Darryl could stand it and not knowing any longer. "You seemed really bothered yesterday," he began.

"Bothered? Well, I guess. The rabbit died, after all, and then you were hurt, and. . "

"That wasn't it."

Her eyes came up to meet his again. For a moment, she simply faced him like that, and then she nodded. "It was seeing you crying."

"I was afraid of that," Darryl said turning away lest she see his eyes begin to water again.

Audrey moved quickly and put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from leaving. "WAIT!" Darryl stopped trying to leave, but could not bring himself to turn and face her. In a softer voice, she continued "Yesterday, when I saw you, I was reacting to, well, some of . . . well, some stuff in my youth I am beginning to understand was a lot of bullshit."

Years of dealing with Aunt Jane and her students had Darryl's brows rising. "Bull. . . . shit?" he managed.

"Oh, don't give me that Jane Thompson look. Marie told me you were one of her students and that look is pure Thompson," Audrey muttered. "Just as what I was taught was pure bullshit."

"I don't know what you mean," Darryl replied, happy she was still speaking to him, but unsure where she was headed.

"I was taught, by my governess, that crying is a weakness and that any weakness is intolerable and beneath contempt."

"And you think those teachings are wrong, now?" he asked, finally turning about to face her again.

"Unfortunately, it takes a lot longer to unlearn wrong things than to learn them - especially when the mistakes are forged into a set of attitudes that are being formed in a child. The idea that strong men can accept and express such emotions; that those emotions can actually add to the strength of a man, is a marked change from that early learning. I found it a hard concept to accept."

"Yeah. I can see that," Darryl said, sighing and waiting for the rest of the bad news.

"But whenever I tried to think of you in those terms, as weak, I simply couldn't - it just felt too wrong, you know?" She exhaled heavily. "I even went to Ms. Thompson to talk about . . . things. . and what she said made a lot of sense."

"She usually does," Darryl sighed even as he wondered where this was all going, "although sometimes her damned infallibility can get bloody tiring."

"Well, I'm glad she did because what she said got me to thinking about the sort of man that I would want as a friend," Audrey continued. "And I can't imagine truly enjoying the companionship of a man who couldn't show honest emotions, even sorrow. How would I know that his happiness was real, if he were that much in control?"

"I don't understand . . ," Darryl said, afraid that the hope her words were beginning to create in his heart would be unfounded.

"I asked myself," she said, remembering Marie's words of the day before, "if I could imagine a better justification for sorrow than the loss of an innocent life. I couldn't."

"But, . ." A flash of moonlight illuminated Audrey's soft smile and Darryl's mind went blank.

"But nothing. You tried to save that animal, even after he scratched you and even though you knew it could get worse if you continued to try. You went under that tree even though you knew if I fumbled that heavy trunk could well have fallen on you. Nope, definitely not lacking in courage or personal conviction. More like a hero, I think."

"Hero?" Darryl forced his mind to work. "But I didn't save him."

"You still tried," Audrey affirmed, "And that's all anyone can do. Besides, I bet you petted and stroked him right up until the end, didn't you?" Audrey challenged, and then continued. "I thought so. So, the little guy went out being comforted instead of in terror."

A wave of relief washed over Darryl, and he grinned crookedly. *She thinks I a hero?* That thought was perilously close to triggering another display of early-morning dew - of the shining eyes variety - so Darryl quickly asked, "Uh, does that mean you still want to go running with me?"

Audrey grinned back. "Running PAST you, more like, mister," she retorted, and then bent over and planted a firm kiss on his cheek. "Now, let's get going. I feel like making you eat my dust today!"

With that, she reached down and ripped the long exercise warmup pants she wore off her legs. After a shocked heartbeat at this apparent destructiveness, Darryl realized her warmups were the breakaway style held together with velcro. After another shocked heartbeat, he realized what she was wearing underneath them. Or maybe, what she was NOT wearing.

*Oh my God. She'll freeze!* he thought. *But dear Lord, does she ever look HOT!* "Hey, wait for me!" Darryl yelled and took off after her at a sprint.

~--------------~

Marie and Audrey arrived in the Seasons House dining room almost simultaneously; Audrey from her shower and morning toilette, and Marie from the kitchen with a cart filled with china, stem-ware and silver for setting the breakfast table.

"Well," Marie said, pleased, "Don't you look much happier this morning than you did just yesterday. Have a good run, did you?" she added with a slightly suggestive smile.

Audrey blushed prettily and then smiled broadly. "It was great! Darryl and I talked about what happened and how I behaved. I think he was as worried about how I reacted to his crying as I was about how he'd reacted to the bunny."

"So, girl, help me set the table while you tell me all the nitty gritty. . . "

"Well, he wasn't anywhere to be seen when I got there, and that scared me like nothing else I can remember in my life. I just stood there, staring into the moon, trying to figure out what I would do if he didn't show up."

"But he did," Marie prompted when Audrey's brow furrowed into a frown."

"Yes he did, and nearly scared me out of a year's growth, too. One second I was alone and the next, he was there behind me. Anyway, to begin with, I was a nervous tongue-tied wreck. Marie, I couldn't say anything that made a lick of sense. I finally asked him some lame question about how his arms were and then just stood there."

"I am sure Darryl did not take your concern as lame, dear."

"No, I guess he didn't, and thankfully, he was able to get us over what was bothering us both. Anyway from there, it went better."

Audrey proceeded to relate the rest of the morning's little drama to Marie who for the most part, kept quiet and let the girl talk. That is, until she saw a very feminine, very mischievous grin light Audrey's face when she concluded with them going for a run.

"All right, Miss, no holding back. What was that smile for? And don't even THINK of trying to hold out on me," Marie ordered while slapping a large serving spoon against her palm.

"Oh, I , ummm. . well, I told him he was a hero and then kissed him - just on the cheek!" she hurried to add.

*Bet that brought my lad up short,* Marie thought happily. *I suppose I could move things along by telling her to plant a good on right on the lips next time, but I think I will let them find their own way. It will be better for both of them that way.*

"That's not all of it, I think, you cheeky thing. What are you holding out on me? Oh, I know, I bet you wore that thong leotard and golden tights set I told you to buy." Audrey's suddenly heightened color was all the answer Marie needed. "So, how did they work?"

"I, ah," Audrey cleared her throat, "only noticed he wasn't, um, running as easily as usual. He was, well, kind of stiff, if you know what I mean."

"Too busy tripping over his tongue?" the older woman teased, well satisfied with both Darryl's reported response as well as Audrey's apparent pleasure in the telling of it.

"Oh, Tante Marie," Audrey laughed as she went over to hug her mentor, but she didn't deny the claim, though it wasn't really Darryl's tongue that she had been considering.

"Move along, girl," Marie ordered, her voice suddenly husky, "or we'll both be in petti's and pinafores when Jane comes down and finds breakfast not on the table.

~--------------~

Audrey and Jane were waiting by their chairs when Darla had arrived in the dining room. The other girl's back was to Darla when she slipped into the room, a view that reminded the young person of the vision of Audrey's lovely backside in those skintight, gold-colored running pants highlighted by the black thong topshorts. It had been a very, very long run that morning, but Darryl had thoroughly enjoyed every step. Almost as much as he'd enjoyed his second 'hero's kiss' before they'd parted.

*Maybe, just maybe, I can figure out how to get us past the 'just a peck' stage to the real loverly kissing stage.*

"You are late, Darla," Jane remarked as the girl took her place at the table.

Darla hid a smile. Jane Thompson's bark was always sharpest when she was hungry. "Sorry, Aunt Jane," she said, striving for fatigued languor consistent with 'the second day'. "I had to check my hair before venturing out." Twinkling dark eyes told Darla that Jane had gotten the teasing reference to her nearly forgetting the wig two days earlier.

"I see, well perhaps you need more practice which I will be *happy* to arrange for you if this becomes an unfortunate habit. You KNOW better, young lady," Jane scolded. "And you know that I do not consider. . .feminine issues to excuse tardiness."

"Yes, Ma'am." Darla replied, her head bowed.

"Very well, then," Jane said as she reached for the serving bowl filled with fresh fruit. "By the way, Darla, is it not your turn to help Marie in the kitchen this morning after breakfast?" Darla answered that it was, and Jane nodded pleased. "Excellent. Audrey, I wish to speak with you in my study after breakfast, say ten o'clock? There are some plans we need to discuss."

"Yes, Ms. Thompson," Audrey said, as she helped herself to the steaming scrambled eggs. Jane was not, Darla saw, the only member of the household who was famished.

*Come to think of it,* she thought, *I'm rather hungry myself. All that fresh air, adrenalin and LOVELY scenery this morning, I guess.*

~--------------~

"So, mon chou, things worked out well for you and la belle Audrey this morning?" Marie asked as she rinsed then dried the serving platter Darla had just handed her from the soapy water.

It was a long standing argument, but even with the finest dishwashing equipment money could buy, Marie took it as an article of faith that only a woman's hands, or in this case, the hands of one of Jane's properly trained young men, should be trusted with cleaning the china. Marie happily used the restaurant-grade dishwasher on her pots, pans and stainless steel flatware, but china and silver got the 'hands-on' approach.

"It did," Darla said softly. "Thank you for talking to her." she added solemnly. "I'm not sure how long, if ever, it would have taken her to see things in that light on her own."

"Don't underestimate that one, love," Marie chided. "She would have figured it out for her self. She has a big heart and a good brain."

"I know, I just am really glad I don't have to sweat it out, however long it would have taken her to work through all that out on her own."

"Patience, mon cher."

"You keep telling me that," and it was Darryl's voice that said the words, "and Dad keeps telling me that, and *I* keep telling me that, but I have to tell you that there is a very big part of me that is getting very, very tired of listening."

Marie put down her towel and went over to hug her boy-in-skirts. "Hey, watch it, Tante Marie!" Darla cautioned, her rubber-gloved hands stretched out behind Marie's back. "I'll get you soaked."

The older woman kissed the child of her heart on the cheek. "As if I'd care. I know it is hard, dear, but I think you are doing very well with your odd little courtship."

Darla turned back to the sink and pulled out the next dish. "How can you tell that?"

"Because," Marie said forcefully as she retrieved her dishtowel, "la fille jolie has not turned and run like a scared rabbit, nor has she turned on you like a cornered badger."

"You're sure?"

"Mais, oui!" Marie answered firmly. "Look, Audrey told me she kissed you this morning, just a peck on the cheek, but a kiss, right?"

"So?"

"Why did you not press the advantage and try for more?"

"'cause she started our run by sprinting away right after she did it and I spent the rest of the morning chasing her."

"Darla," Marie said in a 'don't try to fool your aunt' tone of voice that had the young person blushing furiously. "Don't tell me you didn't have the opportunity at some point before, during or after your run. You chose not to press. Again, I ask, why not?"

Darla, sighed, her breath blowing upwards to flutter the bangs of the dark colored wig. "Because it didn't feel right, like she wasn't, I don't know, ready for more than she did."

Marie snaked her free arm around Darla's shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze. "And I think you are exactly right, dear. I think Audrey will let you know when she is ready for more."

"And if I miss the clues?" Darla asked, worriedly.

"Do you really think that our Audrey is not going to tell you, quite forcefully in fact, when the time comes."

Darla thought about that for a moment before replying. "You really think it will? The time coming, I mean?"

"I do," Marie said with complete assurance. "All the signs point to it."

"Signs?"

"Of course. Tell me, ma cherie, what did Darryl think of Audrey's running clothes today? I understand he had an excellent vantage point most of the morning."

"TANTE MARIE!" Darla squeaked, and then the full impact of what Marie's words meant hit her. "She. . .she. . Audrey told you? About.. . . THAT?!?"

"Oui." was all Marie said as she busied herself drying the serving bowl Darla had just rinsed.

"Oh my."

 

Chapter 19: Planning a Debutante's Come-out

Jane guided Audrey into the comfortable conversation seating area when the girl arrived, promptly at ten o'clock.

"How are you feeling, Audrey," Jane asked. "Any lingering problems from your fall or your surgery?"

"None, Ms. Thompson. The new nose works fine and the last of the bruises have just about faded."

"Excellent. I needed to know that before I decided if we were going to move forward with a slight change of plans."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Jane paused, intending to ensure she had the girl's full attention. "Audrey, we've spoken several times in recent days about the misconceptions your governess gave you about men. You do understand that those were the prejudiced beliefs of a hurt and bitter woman and not really a fair assessment of most men?"

"Yes," Audrey said quietly. "They were lies and she was a liar."

"In all likelihood, child, she probably believed them to be true, which makes her more ignorant than untruthful. However, that is not the point of this discussion. You are, I think, by now aware that you have had little contact with males since arriving here."

"Except Darryl Smith," Audrey interrupted.

"Except Darryl, and he is, as you now know, a very special case."

"He was your student, too."

"True. In any event, your growing friendship with him leads me to believe that it is now time for you to begin interacting with other men, and on a more social footing. To that end, next week, we will be going to see another of my students perform at the ballet in Boston. Your Mother tells me you missed out on your prom, so after the performance, we will go dancing."

"We, Ms. Thompson? Who do you mean by 'we'?"

"You, Darla and I, along with our escorts, of course."

"Escorts?"

"Men, Audrey," Jane replied matter-of-factly, "Nice ones, I promise you, but ones you have not met so that you can practice, in an open environment, your new and improved social skills."

"Couldn't I ask Darryl?" Audrey asked.

*Well, at least she hasn't rejected the idea completely,* Jane thought with some relief. *If she had, it could have been sticky, particularly for the boys.* "I'm afraid not, dear," Jane said. *Especially since you might need Darla's calming presence at some point in the evening.* "I think it best that you interact with some other young men - men you do not know as well as you know him."

"I really like Darryl," Audrey persisted, wondering why she hadn't used a stronger term for her feelings, and then wishing she had done.

"All the more reason for him not to be your escort, Audrey. Think of this as an exam. Audrey putting on the pretty and doing her party manners with socially acceptable but unfamiliar men."

Jane could almost feel Audrey close up on herself. "I don't see why that is necessary," the younger girl replied softly.

At first, Jane did not respond, consciously taking the time to choose her words. Finally, she nodded, and began pensively. "I could say that I do consider this exercise necessary for your growth and learning, which since you have given your word to abide by my program would put you on your honor to comply, would it not?" Jane raised one challenging brow at her student until Audrey reluctantly nodded. "I won't do that. That is not the mind set with which I want you to approach this little adventure. Alternatively, I could ask you just how important Darryl is to you, but I won't do that either because that is your business. Let me ask you another question instead. Do you *really* want your first formal outing to be with someone you, ah, 'really like', or might it not be better to, shall we say, practice on someone who you can forget about if something awkward happens?"

Surprised by Jane's response, Audrey reacted without equal thought and gave an unladylike snort. "Awkward? That's me all right. Big, clumsy cow in a tutu."

"Audrey, dear, don't be silly," Jane said firmly. "You move with an athlete's grace. And the tutu will be on my former student. I'm talking about encountering a socially awkward situation. Do you think your reflexes are sufficiently . . . feminine that you won't find yourself reaching to open a door and getting in your escort's way? Or perhaps pulling out your own chair?"

"So what if I do? It's not like I'm some wimpy hothouse flower that really needs the help."

Consciously stifling a sigh, Jane only shook her head. "No, dear, you are not a 'wimp'. However, men like to feel . . . useful, and these little courtesies are a way for them to balance out the things a woman does to look her best. You wear the heels, he gets the doors. You wear a tight skirt, he hands you in and out of the car. Both parties give and gain something valuable," Then Jane grinned. "Besides, you might actually need the help. One hand for your purse - because you'll only have a clutch bag with no strap, and one hand for your skirts leaves you needing the attention of a willing swain."

"Oh, God, skirts!" Audrey groaned. "I assume you will have a dress for me?

"A gown, my dear, a magically-lovely, fairy-godmotherly perfect dream of a gown."

"A gown," Audrey parroted, her lack of enthusiasm evident. "I see. Well, when do I see it?"

"Why, when you have chosen it, dear," Jane said airily. "We're going to Miss Franson's shop tomorrow for you to pick out your gown from her stock. A girl should have a big say in her first ball gown, don't you think?"

*Ball GOWN?!?!?* "You mean, one of those long floor length things with sparkles, frills and flounces?" The sheer terror in the girl's voice forced Jane to stifle a chuckle.

*She's thinking of the Victorian things I made her wear as punishment,* Jane realized. "No, not necessarily, although it is likely to be floor length. I rather think that elegant simplicity is all a woman of your beauty, presence and stature needs, but as I said, you get to pick what you wear."

Audrey looked at Jane for a long time, obviously looking, Jane thought, for the catch. Finally, she shrugged. "When do I meet my escort? Are you hiring him at one of those escort places?"

"Audrey!" Jane retorted, truly shocked at the very idea. "I said 'acceptable', young miss. *I* know the young men I will ask to escort you and Darla. The very idea!"

"Sorry, but when DO I meet him? Suppose I can't stand him?"

"You will meet him the day of the ballet, and if you cannot stand him, so long as he is polite, well mannered and a gentleman, you will respond in kind and do your best to enjoy the evening. You are going out with him, not marrying him."

Audrey thought about that, and realized that with Jane and Darla there, she would not be alone. So if Mr. Perfect got cute, Darla at least would take her side and help her avoid a nasty incident. "All right, Ms. Thompson, is that all?"

"Almost. Since we will be doing this over the Thanksgiving holidays, I have decided you won't be riding in the parade. I'm not sure Garters would be up to that long a ride on hard pavement in the cold anyway."

"No more side saddle?" Audrey breathed, hope alive in her tones.

"Not unless I think you need the discipline," Jane said, almost teasingly. "Now, why don't you go find Darla and have a nice outing before luncheon. A walk will do her good today and it will enable me to clear up some work so that we can work on your show jumping this afternoon.

Grinning, Audrey stood. "Wonderful, Ms. Thompson. See you at lunch."

Jane sat in her chair until she was certain Audrey was well down the stairs, and then went to her phone where she dialed a number from memory.

"Milady's Closet and the Style Shoppe," a rich feminine voice answered. "This is Brenda. How may I help you?"

"Brenda? Hello, this is Jane. Look, I am bringing Darla and Audrey in tomorrow."

"Oh, what's up?"

"I want Audrey to select her own gown for a night at the Ballet followed by dancing at the club."

"Sounds basic enough, Jane, and I have a lovely selection in right now. The high fashion things I ordered for my Christmas Ball stock just arrived, although I haven't gotten them out into the store just yet."

"Oh, that's perfect. Let me tell you what I want you to do for me."

~--------------~

Jane strode through the doors of The Style Shoppe with Darla and Audrey following her, each one step behind and one step out to the tall, stately woman's right or left. Any army regimental commander would have immediately recognized and been impressed with the formation's precision as they marched to meet the foe.

And at least one of the women - the tall, dark-haired one - truly considered the elegant proprietor of this establishment to be 'the foe'. In that, if in few other ways, she shared a common feeling with her predecessors within Jane's tender care.

Before they'd left the house that morning, Darla had related to Jane the gist of a conversation she'd had with Audrey following Jane telling her student of the new plan of action.

~--------------~

"You're awfully quiet, Audrey, and you don't look all that happy. You want to talk about it?" Darla asked after they'd walked in silence for over twenty minutes.

Audrey shrugged, and tossed her head, both gestures remarkably reminiscent of a certain former school mistress cum businesswoman of Darla's experience. *Wonder what she'd say if I told her how much like Jane she looks when she does that? Probably ignore me for days.*

"Oh, it is just this bloody date your damned aunt has dumped on us. Doesn't it piss. . I mean, upset you that she's procuring dates for us without so much as a by-your-leave?"

"You can say 'piss you off' around me, Audrey, and I won't have a fit of the vapors, but Jane might if you slipped up around her," Darla said teasingly before becoming serious. "It's not like she is making you walk down the aisle with the guy, or selling you into white slavery, Audrey. You're just going out with him, and Jane's going to be there to boot. Me too, if it comes to that."

"But she said dancing! Suppose the guy gets fresh on the dance floor, and I want to make a soprano out of him? What then?"

*Then I will cheerfully hold him down while you do it, Rocky,* Darla thought darkly, *but since it is likely to be Kenneth, we shouldn't have to worry.* "Knowing Tante Marie and Aunt Jane, you'll be wearing heels, sweetie. Threaten to break his little toe for him by having an accidently-on-purpose misstep. Let him know you mean business, and then do it if he isn't bright enough to take the hint. Ladies have been doing that with fresh men since some sadistic male first invented high heeled spikes and foisted them on women."

"Yeahhhhhh," Audrey mused, her face alight with a dark mischief that boded ill for Ken's feet if he did forget himself, then she became glum again.

"Now what," Darla demanded.

"I just wish I was getting all dolled up for. . . well, for someone else, that's all."

"Got someone in mind, do you?" Darla teased.

Audrey considered that and finally nodded. "Jane said this was going to be like a prom. You're supposed to go to proms with guys you want to go with, not guys you meet a few hours beforehand."

Darla's heart jumped into her throat. "Maybe if you asked Jane?"

Audrey's shoulders drooped and she shook her head. "I did. She thinks I need this to prove to her and to myself that I can deal with other guys in a social situation."

"Um, are you telling me you're completely comfortable in social situations with men? Completely ready to act like a lady? Just a second ago you were asking how to handle a man who gets fresh. It sounds to me like Jane is right." *As usual, dammit. Here I am telling her she needs to go out with someone ELSE! But Jane did manage to get me to agree that Audrey does need that experience. Dammit again!*

Audrey's steady pace faltered for a moment as her smaller almost-sister threw her own words back at her. The frown that marred her smooth features was proof enough that she recognized the truth in Darla's statement - for that matter in Jane's perception. Before she had to explain anything though, Darla offered her a face-saving way out.

"Well, you'll still have the dress and all the other stuff. You can pretend this is sort of like a dress rehearsal for a play, and then wear the dress for real, kind of like for opening night, for the guy you really want to have holding your arm.

That DID make Audrey smile. "I like that idea. So tell me, sister," and Audrey's voice dropped into a confidential, 'just between us girls' tone, "Just what kind of dresses does your friend Darryl like seeing on a girl?"

*If she ever finds out just who is giving her advice about Darryl, she's going to kill me,* the shorter girl thought. *But on the other hand, unlike most guys, I actually have a pretty good idea what looks good on a girl.* "Well, I've only seen him out with a couple of girls, including that swimmer I told you about, but. . . "

 

Chapter 20: A Gown for Audrey

Jane watched as Brenda led a still-reluctant Audrey into the dressing and modeling area at the back of the store. She was going to do her level best to make this a very positive and wonderful experience for her student. *How odd that thought seems,* Jane mused, *When all my other students have come here to learn the meaning of stark terror.*

"Mom?" Darla whispered beside her.

"Yes, dear?"

"We'll need to do something for me, too, but it can't be today. Not with Audrey here."

"What do you mean?"

"All of Darla's gowns bare the arms. I need something with long sleeves or else Audrey will see the scratches and welts that are still on my arm from the rabbit."

"And if you participate in the fitting today, she still might see them, however inadvertently. Excellent point, dear. I will have a word with Brenda. She ought to be able to do something for you with a minimum of fuss and bother. It isn't like she doesn't have your measurements."

Just then, Brenda Franson walked out into the waiting area. "Darla, Audrey wants to see you in the changing room.

Jane looked up at Brenda, who gave a little shake of her head. "She hasn't changed yet," Brenda reassured Jane. "I haven't forgotten who THIS one really is, Janie. Run along, honey," she said to Darla. "She's seen the gowns I have laid out for her in there and is having knicker-fits over them.

"Okay, Brenda," Darla grinned up at her. *Am I relieved or disappointed that she isn't as Tante Marie would say, en dishabille? Probably both.*

Jane waited patiently until Darla had disappeared into the changing room before addressing her friend. "Might I infer that she was, shall we say, a bit put off by your selections?"

"I don't think the girl has ever seen anything as sexy as some of those gowns, at least never thinking that she might actually wear one of them."

"You don't think that they're a bit too much for her? She's still unsure of herself and of her power as a female."

"No," Brenda waved that away. "You were right on the money with what you asked me to show her, Jane. That girl is going to cause traffic accidents when she strolls down Beacon Street in one of those gowns. She won't be nearly so clueless about her feminine power after that."

"BUT, DARLA!!! LOOK AT THE NECKLINES!!" a plaintive yelp was heard from the changing room.

Jane smiled ruefully at her longtime partner in crime. "If we can get her into one of them, that is."

"Oh, we will," Brenda reassured her.

"Well, if she really resists, you will 'find' something else for her, got it?" Jane ordered sternly. "The very LAST thing I want is her regressing because some part of this experience made her uncomfortable or worse. She is to feel pretty, pleased and pampered when we are done here."

"Oh, since when have you turned into a mother hen, Jane? Come on," Brenda beckoned. "We'll let Darla help Audrey for a bit while I treat you to a cup of tea." Then she saw one of her shop girls. "Katherine? Would you get a selection of the strapless brassieres for the lady in the dressing room? About a 36-B on the plus side, I think. She's going to need them. You know what colors because you helped me with the gowns earlier."

~---------------~

The timely arrival of the shop girl with the substantial, yet elegantly feminine brassieres helped divert Audrey, as did Darla's heartfelt reassurance that Darryl would melt at her feet upon seeing her decked-out in any of the gowns arrayed before her.

"Well, you did say you say you were interested in getting Darryl's undivided attention with whatever gown you buy," Darla said as they checked out the gowns hanging before them."

"Yes, but . . .Darla, I have never considered wearing anything like these. I mean, I was thinking something more like the dress the birds and mice made for Cinderella in the Disney movie." Audrey took one of the gowns, a dark shimmery red that made her ivory skin glow and her hair seem deeper than the night sky, then held it to her body. "Walt Disney would NEVER have let Cindy wear THIS!"

Darryl's mind all but stopped and his vision tunneled as every neuron in his brain focused on Audrey. "God, but that would be gorgeous on you," he whispered.

"You . . . really think so?" Audrey asked in a very small voice, turning to look at her reflection in a nearby mirror.

Audrey's question hit the femininely turned out young man like a pail of ice water on a hot day. Darla was stunned to realize how close she'd come to breaking character, and struggled to regain her composure. *but she is just so darn gorgeous and she doesn't even have that dress on yet,* her mind whined.

*And she wants to wear it for Darryl, and who has a better idea than me what Darryl does and doesn't like? Oh, hell, if she isn't comfortable wearing it, on top of dealing with an unknown guy, she'll be miserable the whole night.* "I think you'd look like princess in it. . .a very sensual princess, but a princess nonetheless."

"I just don't know," Audrey said distractedly, still staring at herself in the mirror. "I mean, I just have never thought of myself as the scarlet woman type, you know?"

Darla saw the uncertainty in her friends eye and mentally shrugged. She plucked the dress from Audrey's hands and gave her another one - a classic sheath in a pale blue satin that, while it still would show a good bit of creamy bosom and dark mysterious cleavage, was not nearly so . . .uninhibited as the first one. "Try this one. Take the bra in the same color as they seem to have been chosen to match. We'll try them all before you make a decision."

"Them all?!?" Audrey goggled. There had to be fifteen gowns on that rack. "But what about Ms. Thompson? Won't she want to see?"

"She told you to pick your own. You choose the one you like best and are most comfortable wearing and then make her keep her word."

"But, what if I am not comfort. . .I mean, if I don't like any of these?"

"Then you. . ." and then Darla saw the anxiety in her friend's eyes and amended her statement, "Then WE will go out there and tell Aunt Jane we need to look elsewhere."

"You're sure that will be all right?"

Darla then saw just how truly unnerved Audrey by all of this. *Jane said that she was to have fun. Brenda's choices may be too far out for her to do that. As much as I'd give a year of my life to see her in that red gown, I won't let anyone put her through something she truly isn't ready for.*

"Sweetie, a girl is supposed to enjoy herself, enjoy her basic femininity when she is having a 'big do' like this coming-out party Jane has set up for you, okay? Anything that makes you feel happy and feminine is good; anything that makes you unhappy or uncomfortable just isn't going to happen, okay?"

The surety in Darla's words brought the taller girl up short. Audrey looked at her friend closely and saw the determination there, and felt the tight ball of emotion in her gut begin to relax. "Okay," she said softly. "Maybe trying them on will be fun - kind of like an adventure or maybe a fairytale."

Grinning, Darla put a finger to her nose and made it wiggle back and forth. "Just call me your Fairy Godsister."

Audrey giggled, a sound that absolutely enthralled Darla. "That was a 'Samantha of Bewitched' nose wiggle, silly. Even I know she was a witch."

"Well then, my pretty," Darla cackled evilly. "Go get dressed before I get you and your little dog, too."

Audrey giggled again, picked up the matching bra from the confetti-colored pile of silk and satin, and slipped into the changing room.

~--------------~

It had taken a great deal of willpower, but Jane had managed to stay out of the dressing room while Audrey made her selection. *Just as well,* she thought, *I'd probably fall into old habits and start teasing her. And it is not as if my presence in there is required to protect this one's 'secret identity'. An inadvertent slip of the panties is not going to become the biggest 'on-dit' of Kingston society with Audrey as it would have been with any of my other students.* She took another sip of tea and sighed. *Still, it is hard to just sit here. I wonder if that is why men tend to hate shopping so much? This is incredibly boring!*

"Oh, don't worry, Jane. She'll be fine," Brenda said, completely misinterpreting her friend's last sigh. "And you haven't heard a single peep out either of them since that first little outburst, now have you?"

"No," Jane had to admit. "And Darla has been flitting about picking up accessories to try with the dresses so she'd have had the opportunity to let me know if there was a problem."

"Well, that is a problem for me," Brenda grumbled. "Putting away all those fripperies when she finally does make a choice is going to be a colossal pain. Oops, maybe we spoke too soon. Here comes Darla now."

~---------------~

"I don't know, Darla. I just don't like any of the ones I have tried on."

"Well, what about this one?" Darla replied, holding up the scarlet dress Audrey had earlier set aside. "You haven't tried it yet."

Audrey looked at it dubiously. "I don't know. The others at least seemed substantial. I mean, there's really nothing to that one, you know?"

"I think Darryl would love it," Darla said in a fit of inspiration.

"You really think so?" Audrey asked, her voice wistful.

*Are you kidding?* "Are you kidding? He's male, isn't he? Heavens, girl, you would look positively dangerous in that gown!"

Audrey hesitated and then sighed. "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to try it on."

"Great. And I know what would be just PERFECT with it. Be right back!"

~---------------~

"Brenda," Darla asked as she moved near the tea table, "Do you have anything leafy that we could use for hair setting? Not too overdone, but with a lot of color to it? Sort of like a laurel crown, or maybe holly with red berries?"

Instantly, the shopkeeper's face took on a smugly satisfied grin. "Why yes, Darla, I have JUST the thing. Let me show you."

Moments later, Brenda returned to Jane. "What was that all about?" Jane asked.

"Just that I believe she has decided to try the gown I thought would look best on her. I had that hair accessory set aside so I'd know if she did. I thought her feminine curiosity would get her into that gown."

"What is it like?" Jane demanded.

Brenda only smiled. "Wait and see."

~---------------~

Darla hurried into the presentation room only to find it empty. She had expected to find Audrey there, wearing the gown. *Maybe she needed the necessary. Or maybe she's hiding. Dammit, I want to see her in that dress!* "Audrey?" she called.

"In here," a voice called from behind the curtain. "Come on. I need some help with this thing."

*Another zipper,* Darla thought grinning. Thus far, the only gowns Audrey had been able to get on by herself had been those that did not have a back zip. She'd never learned the various contortions most young women need with such a garment because Audrey had never worn all that many dresses to begin with, and certainly none that had rear-closing zips. "Coming." Darla replied.

Just as she got there, the curtain was flung open and a white piece of filmy materia flew from inside the dressing room at Darla. Instinct took over and she caught the soft missile before her mind actually registered what was standing in front her very eyes. It was Audrey in a state of high dudgeon.

It was also Audrey in a state of glorious femininity. REVEALED femininity. The panties she wore accented more than they hid - not that they hid much - and for the rest, well, all the rest was pure, beautiful girl.

Naked pure, beautiful girl.

"That damned bra was designed by Torquemada!" she flared. "Every time I try the fasten the thing I feel like it is trying to pinch my boobs right off my chest!"

Darla had seen Audrey in her fine lingerie before, at the art class, and Darryl had seen her in some very form-fitting athletic gear, but this. . . .

"Wha. . what.. ?" was all her frazzled brain could manage to get out of her suddenly cottony mouth.

"Would you quit gawking, and help me with that damned thing," Audrey fumed. "It isn't like you don't see tits in your own mirror every damned morning."

"S. . sure. . I mean, okay. How do you want me to handle them. . I mean it?""

"Don't be a smartass, Darla," Audrey said darkly, "Just get behind me and let me adjust my breasts in those cups before you fasten the bra. Go slowly so that I can make sure nothing is getting pinched this time."

It was necessary for Darla to put her arms around Audrey to feed the bra around her. This was something she did very carefully - not because she didn't want to accidently touch Audrey's gloriously full and rounded bosom, because she did - almost more than she wanted her next breath - but because she knew she shouldn't and wasn't all that sure she could stop with just a quick feel.

Once that was done, Audrey took control. "Okay, now just hold it there while I slip these puppies in there. . . yeah, that's it. Okay, start tightening it. . .WAIT, Stop. The underwire is catching me on the underside of my left breast."

Darla just closed her eyes and tried NOT to visualize what was happening on the other side of the taller girl's beautiful back. However, for all her feminine ways, Darla was still Darryl and Darryl was still all male where it counted - particularly between his ears where his imagination painted vivid pictures to go with Audrey's descriptive monologue. *I read somewhere that a male thinks of something sexy every fifteen seconds on average. I am way the hell above average,* he thought, and barely stifled a groan of pure lustful frustration when Audrey said, "Damn, I can barely keep my nipples inside this thing. Oh well, go ahead and clasp it."

Darla did and then Audrey spun about. She was unable to contain the worshipful "Oh wow," that whispered out as Darla took in Audrey. "That is some bra," she finished, trying to recover from the earlier slip. *and what's in it is top of the line, too!*

"It makes me look like I have had two boob jobs," Audrey retorted. "Well, maybe it will make me too big to wear that last dress. Help me with it, will you?"

"I got something to put in your hair that will be perfect with it," Darla told her as Audrey pulled the silken confection over her head."

"I'm still not sure about this, Darla." Audrey said from inside the mass of night-red fabric.

"Well, I have to agree that it would take a woman with balls AND a great body to get away with wearing it," Darla agreed. "You do have the body for it."

Audrey's head popped through. "Are you implying I lack the courage to wear this dress?" she demanded, eyes wide.

*Actually, I am the only person with balls in here, but I sure couldn't pull that dress off, no matter how long Sandy and Caro worked on my. .. breastworks.* "Well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it?"

"Get the shoes," Audrey barked, "And whatever it is you found for my hair. We'll just see who has the .. the. . .the tubes for this dress, bitch!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Darla replied, just before she stuck her tongue out at Audrey, making them both break into giggles.

Then Audrey noticed the way Darla was moving. "Hey? Are you okay? You're moving a little strangely."

She was surprised when Darla blushed. "Oh, it's nothing. I, ah, mis-stepped coming into the room and pulled something in my upper legs."

"Oh. . . too bad. Hamstring-pulls hurt." Audrey commiserated as she started to weave the silk laurel leaves into her hair.

*Not as much as unrequited lust, Rocky,* Darla thought with a grimace.

~---------------~

Jane resisted the urge to pinch herself as she watched Audrey move about the room in her chosen gown. *I know I asked Brenda to set out some gowns that would emphasize and display her figure and beauty, but, my lord, I never expected ANYTHING like this. Now what do I do?!?*

The split-skirt, silken gown was floor-length, Grecian in design, asymmetrically hanging from one shoulder. Unlike the strapless designs that Jane had envisioned, this one did not need any internal stiffness to stay in place. Only that one tapering shoulder strap kept Audrey's charms from being completely revealed, charms over which the soft fabric flowed with a lover's intimacy. The dress was a dark, sensuous scarlet, except for the shoulder strap which flowed pristine white down over Audrey's bosom before curling lovingly behind her back. The dress should have been one size larger, perhaps. Not that Jane would expect any man with a pulse to complain about that fact.

"How could you put that out for her, Brenda," Jane hissed in the shopkeeper's ear. "She's not ready for something that. . .that. .blatant! Heavens, when she twirls, I can practically see up to her panties! I wanted her to feel feminine, not incite a riot!"

"Nonsense. You're exaggerating and you know it," Brenda said, smirking. "With that tall girl, and her incredible grace, you never had a chance. That dress was MEANT for someone like her."

"I'm going to need to take a whip with us to keep the animals off her."

"Well, you did get your wish. She is definitely looking feminine." Brenda replied. "Wish most of my customers looked half as good as she does once they've picked one of my dresses."

*She does look lovely. I just hope that after our night in Boston, I don't wish that SHE looked half as good as she does right now.

 

Chapter 21: The Final Touches

"I want to see!" Audrey demanded.

"Sit STILL!" Caro demanded. "If you move again I will let you go home as you are. That last move smeared the lipstick so badly you look like Bozo the Clown.

"You've used so many brushes and things that I will never be able to fix my own face later anyway."

"Then don't mess it up," Carolyn Beale snapped.

"I WANT to SEE!" Audrey demanded again, and then shut up when she realized it came out like a whine.

"Well, I'm done," the older woman said as she spun Audrey's chair so the girl could see herself in the salon mirror.

"Oh . . . my . . . goodness," Audrey breathed. "That. .. that can't be me."

"And who else would it be?" Carolyn teased.

"But, I'm not that pretty."

"No, you're not pretty," Caro replied. "Your features are too strong for pretty. Your chin is a bit too stubbornly forward, your nose is too long, and your mouth is a bit too wide. You've got great eyes, though."

"Thanks a lot," Audrey retorted, feeling suddenly down.

"You didn't let me finish girl. Taken singly, those are all faults. Taken together, they, and combined with those incredible eyes of yours and my cosmetic witchcraft, make you eye-stopping, dramatic, and memorable. Pretty is insipid and for little girls. You are powerfully feminine and a woman-grown."

"That good, huh?" Audrey asked, now intrigued. "And here I always thought I was supposed to want to be pretty."

"Harrumph. Men have dark fantasies about women who look like you."

"I just wish I could make myself look like this," Audrey said, gazing at herself in the mirror.

"Just a minute, dear. I have an idea," Caro said as she slipped out of the cubicle only to return moments later with a digital camera. "Give me your sexiest smile and say 'cheese'," she ordered.

"Sexy? ME?" Audrey choked out as the flash dazzled her.

"Becka?" Caro called. A girl in a Chalet smock entered in response. "Here, take the camera to my PC and make an 8x10 of the picture I just took of Audrey, please."

"What was that for?" Audrey demanded, still trying to clear her eyes.

"Darla says you are quite the artist, that you've been doing really well at those art classes Jane has you taking," the stylist replied, before adding with a wicked grin, "When you aren't posing, that is."

"I am going to kill Darla if she doesn't forget about that night," Audrey groaned.

"Anyway, what my thought is, if you have a picture of what you should look like, and then treat your face like a canvas, you should be able to do with only a little practice. I mean, cosmetics are called face paint, right? And brushes are brushes, right?"

"You'll show me which pots and things to use where?" Audrey asked, "And which brushes to use for that stuff?" Then her voice became very quiet. "I really want to know how to do this to myself."

"To yourself, sweetheart?" Caro asked very gently, "or for yourself?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

~---------------~

"How's that?" Audrey asked, her eyes looking up to meet Darla's in the reflection in her mirror.

"I think you've got it, girlfriend. In fact, I think that bit of darker color around your eyes makes you look even better than Caro's design and will be fabulous with that knockout dress of yours."

"Don't remind me of that!" Audrey ordered ruefully. "I get massive butterflies every time I think about being out in public dressed in that thing."

"You surprised the hell out of Aunt Jane when you walked out of Miss Franson's changing room wearing that gown."

Audrey giggled, a sound that did very strange things to Darla's insides, "I surprised the hell out of me. I still can't believe I put it on, let alone walked out there in front of your aunt and that Franson woman. And I am not convinced I can put it on again, especially when I am going to escorted by a guy I have never met before."

"Ken's okay," Darla replied, still distracted by the picture of Audrey reflected in the mirror.

"Ken?" Audrey spun on her vanity stool to look directly at her friend. "You know this person your Aunt has picked for me?"

*Oops,* Darla groaned mentally. *Did Jane not want me to talk about Ken? Blast! When in doubt, the truth is less slippery and less likely to bite you in the butt at a later date.*

"I know Ken," Darla said in a very small voice. "He's, well, kinda like my brother."

"Your BROTHER?!?"

"QUIET!" Darla hissed. "You want Jane in here? I don't know if I was supposed to let you know about that, okay?"

"Well, you can't just stop there!" Audrey grabbed Darla's hand. "Tell me what you know and don't worry about being too detailed!"

"Okay, but you have to keep mum, all right? Jane might feel she has to change things if she knows. Ken really is okay. In fact, he's a lot like Darryl."

"Nobody is like Darryl, at least in my experience," Audrey countered.

A warm feeling welled up inside Darla and she wondered how she could keep from grinning at Audrey's defense of her masculine alter ego. "Well, he is like Darryl - at least in that he is also one of Jane's boys."

"One of Jane's boys? You mean like you and I are two of 'Jane's girls'?"

*Not quite, sweetie, because you're the first of Jane's girls who really is a girl, at least since she left the Eastmore School for Girls.* "He was one of her students, and like Darryl, sent to Jane for help learning to deal with apparently violent tendencies." *Even though those charges were really lies his Mother told to get him sent here so Jane would feminize him because that bitch hadn't been able to get the job done.*

"So what's he like now if he was sent here for that?" There was real worry in her voice.

"He is one of the sweetest, most gentle human beings I know," Darla reassured her friend. "The alleged violence turned out to be a setup - somebody was trying to get him into trouble and succeeded. Jane figured that out, but not before they fell for one another. She became his surrogate aunt and he became my big brother."

"If he gets cute. . ." Audrey growled.

"He won't, sweetie." *Especially when I tell him I want you.* "He won't."

~--------------~

Darla peeked around the open door into Jane's study and saw the older woman at her desk. "Momma Jane?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Can we talk? I think I may have messed up."

"Come in, then, and tell me what has happened."

Sighing, Darla closed the door behind her and entered the room.

Jane watched with interest as her child voluntarily took the infamous 'uncomfortable chair' Jane had long used to seat misbehaving and cowed students. *You must be upset, my girl. What have you done?*

~--------------~

"Hello?"

"Art? It's Jane."

"Hi dear. I love you. Miss you, too. What's up?"

"Audrey knows about Kenneth."

"WHAT?!? She knows that you petticoated him?" Art was aghast. "Does that mean she knows about Darla as Darryl, too?"

"No, no. . not that. That he was one of my students."

"Oh," Art replied. "Hmmm. . . well, that's not a problem, is it?"

"She knows I handpicked him and so she won't be as on edge as I wanted."

"Dear, if she is at all intelligent, and she is more than that, and if she has watched you at all, and again, I am sure she has, I believe she would already have concluded that you would not have put her in a situation with an unknown quantity as an escort."

"But Darla told her that Kenneth was the gentlest man she knew."

"With the possible exception Darryl himself, Ken is the gentlest man we know, dear."

"So, what does this do to our plan?"

"Nothing, I think. As I said, Audrey would have eventually figured out that her date had been thoroughly vetted by you. She is still going be very much on edge about the whole thing. This is the part of a young girl's maturation she was denied by that governess.

"But she'll go into the evening knowing she doesn't have anything to fear from him."

"Darling, at this point in your training of her, do you really think Audrey's greatest fear is of men, or of herself? If confronted in a physical way, we both know she could handle it. She knows she could handle it, too, pretty dress or no. That is her 'strength' - in more than merely the physical realm.

"But I don't want her to react physically, ESPECIALLY with my Kenneth!" Jane replied, her tone upset at the very notion.

"But darling, don't you see? Now that someone she respects and likes has told her that Kenneth is a truly superior example of the male gender, and oh-by-the-way, a truly gentle gentleman, she is going to be inclined to think first and then react. If anything, she will conclude she will have to cope in non-physical ways with whatever happens, and there she is much more vulnerable. This may be even better, for your purposes."

"But that's just with Ken, Art. What if she decides that only boys I've taught can be trusted, because she also knows that Darryl was one of my students?"

"There'll be other males there, Janey, and she's just too eye-catching to be left alone all night. Oh, I'd be surprised if she wasn't still very anxious, and assuming all goes well, that will give you an opportunity to discuss it with her after the fact and bring home the lessons you want her to learn as a result of the experience."

"Yesssss," Jane thought out loud, "And that dress she chose is really going to help with that anxiety, too."

"What dress?" Diana's voice demanded.

"I'll just let you be surprised, sweetheart. You'll turn green with envy when you see it and when you see what it looks like on her."

"And I'll be stuck in a stiff-necked, ugly old tuxedo."

"But I LIKE the way you look in your tux, dear," Jane said in a low, throaty whisper that made Art's hair stand on end. "To use the vernacular, I find it sexy as hell."

"Well, that's okay, then. But maybe you could borrow Audrey's dress later and model it for me. . . privately so I can appreciate it. . . and you. . .properly."

"I wish I could wear that dress," Jane said with a sigh at the thought of how easily Art would be able to get her out of that shimmering red confection, "but, alas, I'm not that well built. It will, however, make her VERY aware, every minute of the evening, that she is a female."

"You're well built, my dear," Art reassured her, somehow managing to put a very masculine leer into his voice, "and I DEFINITELY miss having your very stacked self in my bed."

"I miss you in mine, too, you sexy thing - both the stud and the hussy. Well, I have to run. Love you, Art."

"Love you, too, babe."

 

 

 

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