Becky discovers "Robert"'s secret

It was at the exact moment that Becky felt Lord Haverfield's hand on her hip that she realized the almost comical mistake she had just made. A life of study, adventure, and working as a ship's doctor had left her with precious little time for the sorts of pastimes to which nobles could dedicate leisurely months of their lives. The rhythmic movements of the shifting crowd that her and Lord Haverfield were moving into, while certainly pleasant to watch, were far from simple. Becky gulped as Lord Haverfield stepped toward her--she had never once bothered trying to learn to dance.

The consequences weren't immediate. Becky was able to stumble backwards out of the way of her partner, his arms held her close to him even as she tripped around. Lord Haverfield, rather graciously Becky thought, didn't mention anything about her first chaotic step, and merely moved on into the next part of the dance he was apparently well versed in.

"It was so very kind of Lady Lemeiux to introduce us to one another." Lord Robert said. Becky found herself mystified that he could manage to string words together while still moving with an almost feminine grace and further shocked that he had apparently taken her interest for genuine! Becky wished she had Emmaline here in her stead... the whole 'seduction' game was completely out of her area. He continued "I've heard things about you, rather impressive things. They say you're rather skilled at the sorts of things I've come here looking for, if you catch my meaning."

Becky's face flushed a deep crimson-- was he really insinuating what she thought he was? Could a Lord talk about such things openly in the middle of a ball? "Sir! I think that--" Becky managed to get out exactly five words before her foot found its way on top of Lord Haverfields, tripping the both of them with an efficiency that would have almost seemed practiced if it weren't for the utter shock on her face. A pair of yelps and a thud found the two on the ground, Becky laying on top of her partner, limbs entangled with the flowing fabric of Becky's dress.

As she adjusted herself, apologies already streaming from her mouth, Becky realized that one of her legs was positioned directly between Lord Haverfield's, pressed directly up against his crotch. Rather that feeling the presence of his hardened manhood which Becky was certain was ushering on his earlier advance, Becky realized that the space felt smooth. Looking up, she noticed that Lord Haverfield's mask had been jostled by the fall as well, shifting back to reveal intricate braids positioned carefully to be blocked from view by the headpiece.

The pieces fell into place, and investigative curiosity overwhelmed Becky's reservation. Her hands flew up to "his" chest to undo one of the buttons. Becky saw neither the firm masculine chest she would have expected earlier, nor the pair of breasts she was now certain lay under the fabric, but instead a thick length of cloth binding, wrapped several times around her partner's chest.

"You're...!" Becky started to speak, sitting up on top of 'Lord' Haverfield.

"Oh please don't say anything!" her partner spoke, her voice suddenly even less masculine than it had been in her haste to speak. The woman covered her mouth, glancing up and around at the few pairs of nobles that had bothered to stop and stare at the downed couple. "Err.... that is... My friend, let us speak elsewhere. I do not wish to disturb so many lovely people."

Now that she was certain it was fake, the woman's voice sounded even more ridiculous to Becky. She nodded, nevertheless and climbed off of her partner, moving carefully to untangle the length of her dress from his legs and shoes. The two rose, with Becky offering her partner a hand up and quickly began to make their way out, past the veritable sea of bodies that occupied the ballroom.