The two women considered that piece of male apparel in silence for a moment.

“Why do you suppose they call it a codpiece?” Caroline asked. “It doesn’t look anything like a fish. Yours looks like…well, rather like an overly ambitious squash.”

“It was the finest codpiece Mme. Beauloir had,” Charlotte answered with dignity, stroking the smooth leather and brass object that, she had to admit, did somewhat resemble a squash. She was about to defend her codpiece’s honor further, but the noise and light spilling out as a verandah door was opened returned their attention to the circumstance at hand.

“Take my arm,” Charlotte demanded, “and pretend I’m a gentleman.”

“You don’t walk like a gentleman,” Caroline objected.

Charlotte stopped at the top of the steps and pulled Caroline to the side where an urn erupted in a screen of greenery, providing a modicum of privacy. “What are you talking about?”

“No one will believe you’re a man if you walk like a woman. Surely you must realize that. It’s just common sense. Men don’t sway their hips when they walk.”

“Some do,” pointed out Charlotte, squirming slightly as she adjusted her codpiece. “Drat the thing, it’s tickling.”

“True, but those aren’t gentlemen we are supposed to know. What are you doing now? Char, you can’t do that in public, someone will see you!” Scandalized, Caroline hurried to stand between her friend and the nearest group of people enjoying the cool night air.

“I can’t help it,” Charlotte muttered, her chin jammed against the starched linen of the ruff. “This codpiece is most uncomfortable. It’s…moving.”

“WHAT?”

“Shhh,” Charlotte hissed, glancing around quickly before returning her attention to her nether regions. “It’s as if there’s something in there. Something other than my handkerchief, that is.”

“Moving?” Caroline asked through her teeth, smiling a bit wildly at a couple dressed in red dominoes as they strolled past. “What do you mean moving? What could be in there that could move?”

“I don’t know.” Charlotte grunted, trying without success to unattach the buckles holding the polished leather piece onto her costume. “But I suspect something claimed occupancy while I was hiding in the bushes outside the gate waiting for you to let me in. Thus it is quite clearly all your fault that my codpiece is now rife with wildlife.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, what could climb into a codpiece? There’s no room in there for anything but an apple!”

“Caroline,” Charlotte snapped, turning abruptly so the codpiece whapped her friend smartly on the hip. “A family of dormice could have set up shop in this dratted thing and I’d be none the wiser, so if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate a little help evicting them from the premises so I can fulfill my destiny and become Lady Carlisle, something I simply cannot do if I have rodents inhabiting my groin!”

“Oh, good heavens,” Caroline moaned softly. “We’re doomed!”

“It’s not that bad,” Charlotte answered, placing both hands on the protuberance of the codpiece and tugging. “I just need help getting it off. The buckles seem to be frozen or caught on something.”