“Anna, I love everything you’ve made for me. My dresses, and the robe that matches Greylen’s, even the slippers and sandals. But I can’t exercise in a dress, Anna. And these bloomers are—well, just forget what they are.” Gwen took Anna’s hands, pleading her case. Thankfully, Lady Madelyn entered the chamber. Gwen knew she’d see reason. Greylen’s mother was exceptional and her understanding boundless.

“Lady Madelyn, I’m trying to explain to Anna that I need clothes similar to these so I can exercise.” Gwen held up the clothing in her hands to show Lady Madelyn what she was referring to.

“What exactly do you need, Gwendolyn?” Lady Madelyn asked. “I’m sure it can’t be that unreasonable.” She looked at her perplexed servant. “Anna, she insists on wearing Greylen’s shirt instead of the lovely bedgowns, and I know she never uses the bloomers or undergarments.”

“I need pants similar to these,” Gwen explained. “I’ll only wear them when I run or box.” She held the pants up in front of Anna. They were her tight-fitting capris. “A drawstring waist would be fine, they don’t even have to be as snug, I just need pants, please.”

“Very well, lady,” Anna said with a sigh. “I’ll see to it myself.”

“Anna, I’m not quite done,” Gwen said, biting her lip.

“Oh my.” Anna sat on the trunk at the end of the bed, fanning herself.

Gwen hoped she wouldn’t faint at the forthcoming request. “I need underwear, Anna, not bloomers. And I need a bra. Underwear fits tightly and only covers your bottom and front.” Gwen drew lines with her hands along her body, showing Anna exactly what she was talking about. “And a bra supports your breasts.”

Anna smirked. “You needn’t cover your breasts, child.”

“Anna, if I only wear pants and Greylen’s shirts tied around my waist, my breasts will show clearly through. Everyone will see them.” Gwen pulled the shirt she was wearing tight across her chest to prove her point.

“Oh my.” Anna began to sway.

Gwen rushed to her side. “I don’t mean to cause you discomfort, Anna. Even a band of cloth I can tie behind my back will do, or something similar to a halter.” Gwen drew lines once again to explain what she meant. “If you can’t make underwear, we can fashion thongs instead,” she teased.

“That’s quite enough, child,” Anna admonished, swatting her bottom. “Underwear you shall have. I know your measurements well enough—but you’ll not have that string you speak of. Is that understood?”

“Aye, Anna, thank you.”

As Anna left the room, Greylen’s mother settled herself in one of the chairs in front of the window. “’Tis a beautiful view, Gwendolyn,” she remarked.

“Aye, Lady Madelyn, it is.”

Lady Madelyn smiled so warmly at her that Gwen found herself sitting by her feet, looking up at her.