I had a strange feeling as I strolled along the cobblestone street in my wig and dress. Not just the excitement of disguising oneself, the anticipation of infiltrating a new territory where one isn't supposed to be.
It was more than that somehow. An extra shiver that came with doing something forbidden, crossing a line I'd never crossed before. The thrill of breaking a taboo that was fundamental to the very concept of my self and the society in which I lived.
I was dressed as a woman, for heaven's sake. And so far, in the many blocks I'd walked from Lady Crenshaw's apartments, no one had seemed to twig to my deception.
Women had smiled politely and nodded as I passed. Men had doffed their hats and bowed. Some had cast frankly appraising looks in my direction.
It was, by far, one
