The Sergeant met us at the depot with the trap.

“Where is your baggage?”

“Left in Manhattan. I will tell you all, but first we need to visit the dry goods, as Master Alexander has had a mishap and needs dry trousers.”

“Of course,” he said smiling kindly at Alexander.

At the dry goods, I was surprised to find boys’ trousers in several sizes, shirts and even waistcoats, so I bought what was needed to dress him in a masculine manner.

On the way home, I told the Sergeant my tale.

“Show me your toad sticker – you know, your pin.”

I did.

“It takes real grit to face a knife with that.”

“I did not know of the knife.”

“Still, if you’re not a real Bill Newcome, I’ll be damned! … Oh shit! … Pardon my language, Miss.”

“Your language is but a pip to the rest of the day, Sergeant.”

“I s’pose it is at that!”

“Now, who is Bill Newcome?”

“A smooth-cheeked lad who soldiered with us in New Mexico. Turned out Bill’s given name was Elizabeth! … Then there was Sarah Bowman, the heroine of Fort Brown. I don’t care what they say ’bout her. She could stand her ground – just like you Miss!”

“Thank you,” I blushed.

“Put you in tongs, and you can fight along side me any day!”

“Tongs?”

“You know, trousers.”

“Oh.” I blushed more. It was the second time in 24 hours that someone suggested I wear trousers.
We rode in silence for a while. “I forgot to say, you look nice with a bit of color, Miss.”

“Thank you.” All I could do was blush that afternoon.

After a while, I said, “I almost forgot, I took the man’s knife.”

“May I see? … Hmm, ‘Sheffield.’ These are English made. A couple of lads in my company had them. If you press here, it folds to go it in your pocket – or purse … and if you press on the pen blade – like this – it springs open. Press again to unlock it to fold.”

“That is very cunning!”

“How did your attacker hold his knife? Close to his body or not?”

“Close to his body, pointing out – like this,” I illustrated.

“Then he knew what he was doing. That is the best – most dangerous – way. … Fold it and put it in your purse – spoils of war for you.”

I did.

Alexander was asleep when we got to the mansion. When the Sergeant handed him down, I saw the seat of his skirt was newly wet. He woke before we got to the door and blushed at his infantile state.

“Come along and I will take care of you.” I led him up to the nursery. He followed with apprehension, but relaxed when I placed him on the infant table. He was too long for it, but there was no other place to clean him. It would take an hour for Mrs. O’Grady to heat a bath. When I removed his chemise and skirt, I found him laced into a corset.

“Why do you wear a corset, Alexander?”

“Stepfather told me pretty boys need to be trained to the corset, Miss. So Miss Grundel, my last governess put me in one.”

“Pretty boys?”

“Yes, step says I am a pretty boy, or sometimes a gal-boy.”

“And are you a pretty boy or gal-boy?”

“I must be. Miss Grundel always said how pretty I was. Even mother says I am pretty.”

He was indeed prettier than most girls his age. “We will take you out of your corset while I consider your case.”

“Thank you Miss, it is awfully tight.”

Once he was undressed, I was sorely distressed to find his derriere criss-crossed with bruises, red welts and blood blisters.

“Who treated you so?”

“Miss Grundel gave me ten of the cane whenever I did not hold my water. Since I wet twice, I would have twenty by now.”

“I will not do that – I promise. Wet day or night, I will not cane you.”

“Thank you ever so much Miss,” he said – his eyes moist with grateful tears.

I anointed his nethers with mixture of rose oil and tincture of laudanum.

“What are you doing, Miss?”

“Doesn’t that smell and feel nice?”

“Yes,” he blushed, confirming in words what was evident from his petite appendage. “But why are you doing it?”

“To help heal you and prevent a rash from wet napkins.”

“Napkins! I’m not a baby, Miss.” He started crying.

“Are not napkins better than canings?”

“I suppose,” he sniffled.

“When you no longer need them, you will no longer wear them. For now, you are my baby. No one will mock you. Do you trust me?”

“Yes Miss.”

I finished pinning him. “Now that feels nice, does it not?”

“Yes, Miss,” he said in a small voice. His appendage had only grown harder.

“Good. You have no night clothes, so you can wear one of my chemises. Then no one will see your napkins but me.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“There is no proper bed for you. Can you curl up in the crib for now?”

He did so without complaint. A few minutes later, he was sleeping with a thumb in his mouth and his other hand on his napkins.

I gave Constance his soiled clothes to be laundered, then knocked at the library door. Karl and the Sergeant were conversing within.

“Nancy? Come in. … I am ever in your debt – and ever so sorry! If I had known the danger, I never would have allowed you to go. Sending you alone was unforgivable!”

“They say, ‘all is well that ends well.’”

“I fear it my not have ended. I owe you a complete explanation. Please sit. … I have reason to believe that Alexander’s stepfather plans to do away with both him and my sister Emily, but I have been unable to convince her of this. She trusts her husband and believes only that he finds Alexander an embarrassment. Her actions today may indicate that she is coming to accept my suspicions.”

“Pardon me, she also gave me this document for you.”

He broke the seal and read it. “This is most helpful. It may even save Emily’s life! ... It makes me Alexander’s legal guardian and … I must tell you more so that you understand. Our father set up trusts for Emily and me. Under Emily’s trust, if she dies, her money passes to Alexander, not his stepfather. Van der Leyden only inherits if both she and Alexander die before the boy comes of age.”

“I see. So that is why the man in grey pursued us and tried to take Alexander?”

“That is my theory, and if it is so, the danger to Alexander continues.”

“Will van der Leyden not try to kill your sister?”

“Making me Alexander’s guardian lessens her peril. The trust provides her with a stipend upon which van der Leyden depends. Now that I am Alexander’s guardian, if Emily dies, her allowance would come to me for the boy’s benefit.

“That brings me back to you. Being Alexander’s governess has placed you in mortal danger. I release you from all obligation. I will give you six months wages and an excellent reference. I may even be able to find you a new position.”

“Karl, I am not one to run and hide. Alexander needs my care. His last governess beat him mercilessly. I have given him my pledge it will not happen again!”

“I told you she was a real Bill Newcome,” volunteered the Sergeant.

“Yes. ... I see. Then you may stay. … Still, I must consider how to provide for your safety,” he added reflectively.

“Thank you.”

“Now tell me all that transpired since you arrived at my sister’s home.”

I repeated my story to him. When I finished, I broached a new subject.

“Alexander was being trained to the corset. When I asked him about it, he said it is because he is a pretty boy or a gal-boy, but I do not know if that is his nature or it has been forced upon him. I would like to discover his true nature, and rear him accordingly – whether he be masculine or epicene. Do you have any instructions in this matter?”

“Nancy, I know nothing of these things. In retaining you, I placed my trust in you. Raise him as you think most conducive to his happiness. I give you a free hand.”

“Thank you, Karl.”

Before retiring, I checked Alexander and found him shivering in wet napkins. “Are you cold?”

“Yes, and scared and hungry, Miss.”

I changed his napkins and gave him my last chemise.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, but I’m still scared. I dreamed that man was hurting me. Why did he grab me?”

“It is a long story, but you are not to worry. I know how to take care of little boys. Would you like to sleep with me?”

“Ever so much, Miss!”

I put him in my bed, and crawled in next to him in my chemise. The poor thing was sucking his thumb, shaking with fear. I opened my chemise. His eyes went wide.

“My teat is ever so much nicer than a thumb.”

He soon latched on. We both slept well.

I woke with the sun. Alexander’s napkins were still dry. I roused him and put him on the chamber pot before he could embarrass himself again.

“I am very proud of you for keeping your napkins dry. You deserve a reward.” I opened my chemise.

“Come and get it, then.”

He blushed furiously but came straight to me.

I put him next to me and guided him to my teat. I sang to him quietly as he nursed.

When he finished, I asked, “Do you feel scared this morning?”

“Not with you, Miss.”

“Good. I think one reason you soil yourself is that you have been scared. Is that not so?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Would you like to tell me what scared you, sweetie?”

“Well, of being caned – but not just that. Miss Grundel and step did other things too. I did not like them.”

“What else did they do?”

“She told the children at the park I could not hold my water at night, so they laughed at me. She gave me horrid medicine to make me sleep. It made my feel all funny and sick. Last week I woke up cold and wet. Step was on top of her. Her dress was up and they were making animal sounds. When I told mummy, she discharged Miss Grundel. Later, stepfather caned me. Monday he said since I had Miss Grundel sent away, I should do her service. He started undoing his trousers when mother came in. Then he stopped.”

“I see,” I said in a state of shock. “… I need to ask you another question. You said you are a ‘pretty boy.’ Do you want to be pretty?”

“Oh yes, Miss. People like you better if you are pretty – except street boys – they call me names.”

“I am sorry they do. Did you mind being thought a girl yesterday on the train?”

“No, Peggy was nice and meant no harm.”

“I mean, would you be a girl if you could?”

“Step said I am a gal-boy. Is that what you mean?”

I was making no progress. I thought of taking him to the dream world, but he might take my questions as suggestions. So, at an impasse, I changed the subject. “Your clothes from yesterday are not yet dry. I bought you new clothes at the dry goods, but I need to know if you sometimes can not hold your water during the day?”

He looked at the napkins under the infant table. “No, Miss – just when I am scared. Please, I do not need napkins during the day.”

“Very well, but if you get ‘scared’ too often, you will be wearing napkins until you can hold your water.”

“Yes, Miss.”

After I dressed him, he complained, “These clothes are rough, Miss. I like my silkies better.”

“Most boys dress as you as you are now. If you do not want other boys to round on you, you should dress so. If you want to dress as a girl, I can get you chemises and skirts. Which would you prefer?”

“Boys should dress as boys, but silkies feel nicer and look prettier.”

After breakfast, Karl said he would teach Alexander chess. I was to receive instruction from the Sergeant for my safety. Unsure what the Sergeant would teach me, but always anxious to improve myself, I followed him.

Opening a drawer in the entry hall, he withdrew an enormous gun. “This is a revolver, Miss – a Colt Walker. See here? There are six charges in this cylinder, so it can be fired six times without being recharged. You need to know how to use it.”

“What!?”

“Yes. That is what the Capt’n decided. As you saw yesterday, the danger is real. Of course, this is my pistol, and if something happens, I will be the one to use it. Still, if one falls, another must come behind. It may come to you, Miss. Come outside, and I’ll show you the drill.”

We walked some distance to a row of bottles sitting on a log. The pistol was as heavy as it looked. Four and a half pounds – a horse pistol, not a side arm – the Sergeant explained. Patiently, the Sergeant showed me how to hold, cock, and fire it. I was to hold it with two hands, line the sights up with the target, and slowly squeeze the trigger. On my first try, I hit just below the bottle I was aiming at. The ball went clear through the log – it was a foot thick, at least – but the main effect was I was knocked on my rear. My shoulders ached and my arms reverberated, but I did not complain.

The Sergeant laughed heartily. “I should have warned you to brace yourself.” He helped me up. “Here, try getting down on one knee.”

I did.

“You shot low because you yanked the trigger. Just squeeze it gently,”

I did. This time the bottle burst into hundreds of shards without me ending on my seat. Still, my arms and shoulders fared no better.

“That’s wonderful, Miss – better than most troopers their first day. I’m sure you’ll only improve.”

“I would, if my arms could take more, but I fear they can’t!” I said, rising. My hand was also bruised.

“Look, your dress is muddied! I should have put more thought into it, Miss. I’m sorry. Let’s call it a day.”

Back at the mansion, Constance promised to do her best to get the stains out of my dress. I apologized for the extra work I caused her.

After lunch I took Alexander to town, ordered a new bed, and bought him another shirt and trousers. I spent the rest of the day starting him on French.

That night, put the horror at the station returned to haunt me. The best way to get it out of my mind was to think of Caroline Bloome. I could imagine no one more beautiful. What kind of friendship did she desire? What kind did I? The prospect meeting her again filled me with a physical excitement I had not experienced before. I found my hand exploring my womanhood. In this state I wrote her, saying I would be at the Waverly House Lady’s Dinning Saloon Saturday at noon, and would be pleased to have her as my guest.

In the morning, the Sergeant was gone, and the Elder quite busy. When I had my pistol lesson the day before, I had observed wild berries in season. Alexander and I spent the morning gathering (and eating) them. He appreciated his sturdy tongs as a ward against the thorny canes. I wished I were similarly clad as my dress snagged repeatedly.