Passing as Elias

Chapter One

The Captain

Elizabeth Searson ran along Baggot Street, her dusty green dress hitched above her ankles, and her elbows pointing outward absurdly. A red headed child laughed and pointed at her as she sped past. Elizabeth rounded a corner onto Eastmoreland Place and sent pebbles showering over a small, portly man in a sweeping blue cloak.

‘Apologies, Sir!’ She yelled over her shoulder, waving a hand frantically. She could hear him cursing and coughing as he inhaled the dust.

Elizabeth grasped the bonnet upon her head as it flapped about while she ran down the gentle slope. Her hair had come loose from its bun, and was now flying behind her like dancing flames. She was running out of breath, but had to make it to the apothecary before the eighth hour or there would be hell to pay. As this thought entered her mind the tower clock that loomed above the town chimed, signaling the arrival of the eighth hour.

She was only around the corner now. So very close. Perhaps Professor de Bard would not be too displeased if she were only a minute late.

The little wooden sign that hung above the door loomed into view. It read ‘De Bard’s Apothecary’ with a picture of a mortar and pestle underneath. The tower clock had not yet reached its final chime. Perhaps she would make it.

Elizabeth hurtled through the apothecary doors as the tower gave its final chime. The bell above the door clanged loudly at her entrance.

‘I made it! I am here!’ Elizabeth panted, her face flushed, and her bonnet askew.

Bernard de Bard did not look up from the papers that littered the shop counter. She stood there, silently for a few moments before he clucked his tongue and looked upon her. Elizabeth gave an apologetic smile.

Bernard was not frightening by any means, and was usually good-natured. He was an older gentleman who had once been handsome in his youth. Now however his face was lined, his hair graying and frazzled with an air of eccentricity about him. The one thing Professor de Bard could not tolerate was tardiness.

‘When you make a commitment to another human to show up for work at eight o’clock in the morning, you are telling them – yes … I shall be present at the pre-arranged time. By showing up late, whether one minute or fifteen minutes, you are - purposefully or not – conveying that the other persons time is not valuable to you.’ Bernard looked back down upon his paperwork.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and gave an inward sigh, ‘I do apologize Professor, really. I meant to be here ten minutes ago to help you set up. But honest, Sir, I was on my way here when –’ She ceased talking for Bernard had held up a bony white hand to indicated that he wished for silence.

‘I do not care for excuses, Betty.’ He sighed lightly. ‘You are in luck for our appointment appears to be running late himself. I have prepared the vials, and paperwork already. Go and clean yourself up, girl.’ He looked upon her disheveled state momentarily before he waved her away.

‘Yes, Sir.’ Elizabeth excused herself and made her way past the multiple shelves of potions, and powders, behind the shop counter to the laboratory beyond. She eyed her reflection in the small dusty mirror that sat upon her workbench. Small corked vials, and large ornate jars consumed much of the surface. Removing her bonnet, Elizabeth attempted to fix her askew hair, pinning up the fire-red tendrils that had become loose in her haste. She attempted to flatten the top, yet to no avail, for her curls always won. Heaving a sigh, she abandoned the hopeless attempt at taming her hair, and began dusting off her dress and boots. She must look at least presentable for their client who was due at any moment. Her face was still pink from the dash she had made from home, a mile away. The mad rush had taken her fifteen minutes, and now her feet ached in her heeled boots.

At that moment the doorbell clanged loudly, and Elizabeth made a start. Hurriedly, she stuffed her bonnet out of sight, brushed down her dress, and made haste to the shop front.

‘Ah, Master Larson! Welcome, welcome my good man!’ Elizabeth heard Professor de Bard exclaim as she ducked into the front of the shop. A man in a midnight cloak, with a cream waistcoat, and tan breeches stood in the doorway, looking rather harassed. Elizabeth cringed internally.

‘Good morning, Professor de Bard.’ The man said, stepping over the threshold, and allowing the door to swing shut behind him, with another tinkle of the bell. ‘I trust you are in good health?’

‘Naturally, naturally.’ Bernard said, patting his round protruding belly with a smile, ‘Nothing ails me that a quick brew will not fix.’

‘Most excellent.’ Master Larson took a step toward the counter and laid his eyes upon Elizabeth. He seemed to recognize her as the one who had showered him in pebbles not minutes before. ‘But I do not believe we have been introduced.’ He removed his hat and gave a nod in Elizabeth’s direction.

‘Ah, this is Elizabeth Searson, my apprentice.’ Professor de Bard explained quickly, waving a hand in Elizabeth’s direction. Elizabeth smiled politely.

‘Do you not mean assistant, Professor?’ Said Master Larson without a hint of a greeting towards Elizabeth.

‘No, Master Larson.’ Elizabeth piped up, ‘I have been studying under the Professor for three years, Sir. Another two years and I shall be a qualified Apothecary.’ She smiled toothily, hoping to receive one in return.

‘A woman?’ Master Larson narrowed his eyes and turned his attention back to Professor de Bard, ‘A female become a qualified apothecary? Nonsense Professor.’ He gave a chortle, ‘You can not expect someone of the female gender to fully comprehend the science of medicine, surely.’

Elizabeth’s smile faltered momentarily, but she recovered swiftly, ‘Some would believe a woman’s brain is as large as a man’s, Master Larson.’ She folded her arms across her chest.

Professor de Bard cleared his throat loudly, and put a hand upon Elizabeth’s shoulder, ‘I have had many apprentices in my time, Master Larson.’ He said with a small squeeze to her shoulder, ‘I think you will find Miss Searson as capable as any man, I assure you. She is one of the most skilled apprentices I have had the pleasure of teaching. She has demonstrated her skills well, I think you will find, in the elixir you have commissioned from us.’

‘I do apologize, Professor de Bard, but I was under the impression that a professional would be handling the matters I put forth to your business, and not a woman who fancies herself as clever as a man.’ Larson said coldly. ‘Never mind the fact that I expressly forbade anyone knowing of this purchase, apart from you and I. If I were so careless as to who knew of my commissions, then I would not have come to collect my elixir personally. I might have had a servant collect it for me.’

‘Your potion will not disappoint you, Master Larson, I guarantee it.’ Elizabeth said hurriedly, ‘and I will not tell anyone, Sir. Honest.’

‘We shall see.’ Larson said taking another step towards the counter and rummaging in his pockets, ‘however, do not expect me to pay full price for the work of a woman who speaks so commonly. You will receive a fraction of the payment you requested Professor, and not a penny more.’ He shook some silver pieces onto his palm and dropped them onto the counter.

Elizabeth looked down upon the coins, and spoke not a word more. Her heart thudded angrily upon her rib cage, yet she dare not speak rudely to Master Larson for he was a very rich, and powerful man.

Professor de Bard handed Larson a small leather pouch, which chinked merrily. It contained six tiny vials, each containing a liquid of different colour.

‘Now, please, Master Larson, the instructions are inside the pouch. You must mix each component in the correct order.’

‘Yes, yes. ‘ Larson did not bother to inspect the quality of the elixirs, but snatched it from Professor de Bard. ‘I will return if I am not satisfied. If you do not hear from me until the month is over, count yourself lucky. Or perhaps her concoction has killed me.’ And he swept from the room, his cloak whipping through the doorway.

As Larson marched up the street, Elizabeth closed her eyes and prayed for control over her temper.

‘Do not fret, my dear.’ The Professor said as he stacked the papers upon the counter, ‘He shall not be back until he is due for his next dose within a months time.’

‘What if he returns to spite me?’ Elizabeth grumbled, picking at a loose thread.

‘He shall not. Your concoction was of excellent quality. He would not be able to tell the difference if I brewed it myself.’

Elizabeth smiled at the compliment and looked upon her Professor, ‘What will I do when I complete my apprenticeship, Professor?’

‘What do you mean? I should think the answer to that is quite simple. I would very much like you to stay here. You will be a qualified apothecary.’

‘I know, I know. I would like that very much, Sir. However, what shall people think of a woman brewing their concoctions? I fear they shall all despise the idea of me as their apothecary.’ The words came forth rushed. Elizabeth had been biting back these fears since she had begun her apprenticeship three years ago.

The expression upon Professor de Bard’s face was comforting. He looked upon Elizabeth as though she were his own child that needed comforting.

‘You will earn their trust.’ He gripped her shoulder, ‘that is why it is important we begin showing the townspeople what you are capable of. Do you not remember the point of today?’

‘To be humiliated in front of Master Larson?’ Elizabeth grumbled. ‘Sir.’ She added.

The Professor ignored this, ‘To get word out of your skills, Elizabeth.’

‘Regardless of my skills, Professor, I shall only earn half of what a man does.’ She said bitterly.

Professor de Bard gave her shoulder a light squeeze again, ‘I pay you based on your work Elizabeth, not your gender.’

‘A generous pay it is too, Sir.’ Elizabeth did not want to sound ungrateful, for Mister de Bard paid her as much as a man would earn in the same position.

‘That is because you are the cleverest young person I have met in a very long while.’ He smiled upon her. Elizabeth noticed he chose to say ‘cleverest young person’ rather than ‘cleverest young woman’.

‘I only wish others had the same view. You saw how Master Larson reacted. He thought my time and effort worth only a fraction of a gentleman’s. How shall I earn a living if I were to ever open my own apothecary? The coin he paid does not even cover the cost of the ingredients we used to make it. Perhaps I should just dress as a boy, and be done with it.’ Elizabeth muttered.

‘I am afraid I do not have a potion for that.’ Professor de Bard smiled warmly, ‘Come now, do not be silly. All you need to do is prove yourself of equal talent to a man. Yet you and I both know that you are smarter than most. Your application proved that.’

Elizabeth shrugged. She had earned her position as an apothecaries apprentice by solving a mathematical equation that had been posted upon the town hall bulletin board. She had not known that it was a test for a job position. The flyer had merely stated that whomever could figure out the problem should present themselves to Professor de Bard by the aforementioned date for a prize. The answer to the equation was his home address. According to the Professor, many people had taken the flyers upon the board, yet Elizabeth had been the only one to appear upon his doorstep. She had been offered the apprenticeship at once. Never had Elizabeth considered Apothecary as a career, however the idea grew upon her over the days she considered the offer. A week later she returned to Professor de Bard to accept his proposition.

Elizabeth was a common girl. Her mother had taught her everything she knew, which was not much, though Elizabeth had always been described as a gifted child. She had been brought up under the impression that a woman’s role was to be a wife, and mother. At twenty, most would expect Elizabeth to be wed by now, however it did not interest her in the slightest. Her mother often complained that it was socially humiliating to be unwed at Elizabeth’s age. She had never been in love, not that love seemed to matter when it came to being married, it seemed. Her mother often nagged her when it came to matters of marriage, however Elizabeth just shrugged it off. No man had ever attempted to court her. She supposed it was because her intelligence far outstripped any man she knew, which was considered quite unappealing to bachelors. However there was one man who was quite persistent with his flirtatious advances upon Elizabeth, though he had never officially sought to court her. Captain Greenwood of the Royal Navy was often at the apothecary when he was not at sea, but Elizabeth was extremely wary of him, for he was very handsome, and had a rather cheeky reputation. This did not bother Elizabeth too much for she did not have any feelings for Captain George Greenwood.

Elizabeth was not an unattractive girl. Her skin was as pale as snow, and as delicate as china. Her hair was as orange as the sun, and fell in ringlets to the small of her back. It was often hard to tame, and lack of time meant it was usually a mess. A scattering of freckles sat lightly upon her nose and chest. Her full, pink lips hid straight teeth. Her face was heart shaped, and her eyes were emerald green, surrounded by blonde lashes. Her eyebrows were so light you might not even notice they were there. Many people assumed Elizabeth to be of a much younger age.

Elizabeth grumbled at her Professor. He smiled at her and walked into his laboratory without another word. Elizabeth remained behind the counter in the shop front. Between eight o’clock in the morning, and six o’clock at night she would sell and recommend concoctions to the villagers. She often gave medical advice and boxed large orders for the local surgeon who practiced up the way. Pregnant ladies often sought potions and herbs, and some simply wanted elixirs to solve their woes. There was also a large amount of paperwork and commissions involved. However, when the tower clock chimed six, Elizabeth would flip the sign on the door, and commence her lessons with Professor De Bard in the laboratory until her brain could no longer retain any new information. This often resulted in late nights.

Recently, the Professor had allowed her to work upon the commissions the townspeople put forth. This would be the first time in three years Elizabeth would be getting paid for her concoctions. Professor De Bard always checked her work, and analysed her methods. He made her write everything down. She had never done wrong. Today was very important for Elizabeth, because it was the first client of great nobility that she would be doing a commission for. Though the encounter with Master Larson had not gone well.

Elizabeth was in a rather sour mood for the rest of the day. Several people came in and out of the shop, the doorbell tinkling consistently throughout the morning. She put on a smile for the clients, and spoke in a sweet voice to even the most troublesome customers. At midday a gang of small boys pressed their noses against the glass, and blew raspberries at Elizabeth through the window, leaving spittle and grubby little handprints upon the shop front.

While Elizabeth was wiping down the glass with a bucket and rag, a voice spoke in her left ear, causing her to jump and slop water down her front.

‘What kind of work is this for a young lady?’ A mans voice said.

‘Oh!’ Elizabeth spun on the spot and gripped the rag to her chest, ‘Captain Greenwood, you did startle me!’

George Greenwood stood before Elizabeth, wide shouldered, tall, and handsome. Many of the women who had encountered Captain Greenwood said he was the handsomest man they had known. Elizabeth did not care for his beauty.

George Greenwood stood straight backed, with his hands behind him. He gave her a small bow, ‘I do apologize, Miss Searson.’ He smiled, showing perfect rows of glinting white teeth. Elizabeth seemed to be the only lady within a hundred miles who did not have to steady herself upon the furniture when looking at him.

Elizabeth smiled politely, and brushed the font of her dress, which was quite damp. She showed George Greenwood into the apothecary, where he removed his tricorn hat. His chocolate hair flopped onto his forehead and covered his dark eyebrows.

‘How have you been, Captain?’ Elizabeth said as she stepped behind the counter.

‘As well as any man on a diet of salt meat, hard biscuit and sauerkraut.’ He said with a sigh. ‘I arrived back on shore only yesterday.’

‘Well you did not wait very long before coming to visit the apothecary.’ Elizabeth smiled.

‘Ah, how could I stay away?’ George Greenwood gave a charming smile, ‘No one makes better supplements than you, Miss Searson.’

‘You are too kind, Captain. Did you find the vitamins helpful these past months?’

Captain Greenwood was the only client who preferred to get his remedies from Elizabeth, rather than Professor De Bard.

‘Extremely.’ George admitted, ‘Not a single case of scurvy reported. Though it doesn’t make the food taste any better.’

‘Do you not love being in the navy?’ Elizabeth wondered aloud.

George Greenwood leaned upon the counter, and Elizabeth smelled the sea upon him. It was not unpleasant, she thought mildly.

‘I love what I do.’ He admitted, ‘Though I do miss the company of a woman.’ He looked upon her at this remark.

Elizabeth scoffed, ‘Surely, Captain, a man such as yourself would have no trouble courting a lady.’

‘My job does not permit me the time to find a lady, Miss Searson. Nor would I be able to give her the time she deserves.’

That look in George Greenwood’s eyes was all too familiar. Elizabeth knew he had been at sea for months, and was clearly seeking the company of a woman. He had come to the wrong place looking for that.

‘I suspect you would have your pickings at the brewery up the way, Captain.’ She said loftily, ‘Many lovely ladies up there, I imagine.’

‘Aye.’ Captain Greenwood nodded fairly and straightened up, ‘Perhaps I shall go for a pint when the day is through. Might I interest you in joining me, Miss Searson? The Upper Baggot Inn serves most excellent refreshments.’

Elizabeth frowned, ‘you know me Captain. All work, and no play. Besides, I find the Upper Baggot Inn a tad too rowdy for my likings. It is bad enough walking past it on my way home of an evening.’ She shuddered a little. The jeering and catcalls happened much too often when she passed that pub.

‘Perhaps another time then.’ He raised a hand in defeat.

‘Mayhap.’ Elizabeth shrugged nonchalant.

Clearing his throat in a rather annoyed fashion, George Greenwood pressed on with more urgent matters. Whipping a sheaf of parchment from his coat, he read aloud the vitamins, and supplements he required. Elizabeth gathered the items one by one from various shelves, and placed them upon the counter. Captain Greenwood often made large orders every six months or so. Once he had paid his gold, and bade her farewell in a much colder fashion than he had greeted her, Professor de Bard emerged from the laboratory.

‘Utterly clueless.’ He sighed at her, sitting himself upon a stool.

‘Excuse me?’ Elizabeth frowned as she took stock of the latest sale upon her running total. She looked up from her parchment and was annoyed to see Professor de Bard smiling at her knowingly.

‘My dear, have you not noticed that every time Mister George Greenwood returns from a stint at sea, he comes to the apothecary the very next day?’

‘Of course.’ She scoffed, ‘To stock up on supplies for his crew.’

‘Aye.’ The Professor nodded, ‘Among other things.’

‘What is that supposed to mean, Professor?’ She eyed him shrewdly.

Professor de Bard threw his hands in the air defensively, ‘I suspect the Captain is, uh, searching for a reason to stay on land.’ He looked at her meaningfully, his thick white eyebrows raised so high they were in danger of being lost in his flyaway hair.

‘Please, Professor.’ Elizabeth rolled her eyes and chortled, ‘Captain Greenwood has his pick of the litter, I can assure you of that.’

‘But who better to pick?’ Professor de Bard exclaimed with a clap.

Elizabeth sighed, ‘Regardless of his intentions, Professor, I dare say escorting me to a dank Inn full of drunken idiots is no way to charm a lady. I assure you, the Captain is searching for the company of a woman to last him only one night. I dare say he will find what he is looking for among the other wenches at the Inn.’ She finished rather heatedly, and Professor de Bard did not bring the topic of Captain Greenwood up for the rest of the afternoon.

When the sixth hour came to pass, Elizabeth found herself up to her neck in work. The Professor had said that he had important business to attend to at home, and left her the keys to the apothecary. He had never done this before, and Elizabeth found it quite daunting.

‘Are you not you going to check the potion once I am done, Sir?’

‘I am sure it will be fine, Betty.’ Professor de Bard said as he pulled on his coat, ‘I really must attend to the business I have at home.’

‘But … but you always check.’ Elizabeth said looking down at the mortar and pestle she was currently using to crush herbs.

‘You have the medical books in front of you, do you not?’

‘Well, yes.’ Elizabeth frowned at the medical book propped open before her, ‘But what if I need your help?’

He looked at Elizabeth exasperatedly, ‘I am sure you will manage for one night.’ He grabbed her hand and pressed the keys into her palm. Elizabeth closed her fingers around the heavy brass key, and looked up at him.

‘What do you need to do that is so important?’ Elizabeth enquired.

Professor de Bard ignored this question, ‘Just lock up when you are done, and do not forget to bring the key on the morrow. Do not keep me waiting. It is the only key I have.’ And without another word he stumped from the laboratory. Elizabeth stared after him, and heard the doorbell tinkle as he left the shop.

Elizabeth had never been alone at the apothecary before. Mayhap this newfound trust was a sign that the Professor was prepared to give Elizabeth greater responsibilities.

Several hours passed without any problems, and Elizabeth managed to complete a large amount of medicines. She found that she was much more relaxed when working alone, yet she was not sure she enjoyed the solitude very much. The model skeleton that was hanging in the corner of the laboratory seemed to be staring her down. Elizabeth gave herself a little shake and focused upon the powder she was sifting through a searce. Her attention waned, and her eyes burned with tiredness. Heaving a sigh, Elizabeth stood and stretched with a huge yawn. Perhaps tonight she would allow herself a small early mark. Usually she would leave at ten o’clock, but since the Professor was not around, she was sure he would not mind if she left a little early.

Packing away her supplies and instruments, Elizabeth cleaned her work surface, and put out the oil lamps. Grabbing her bonnet, and the key, Elizabeth left the apothecary, locking the door securely behind her. Often, Professor de Bard would walk Elizabeth to the intersection up the way, where their paths home went in opposite directions. She did prefer this, because the drunken men at the Inn were less likely to call out to her whilst she was with a gentleman.

Elizabeth walked swiftly up Eastmoreland place, and turned onto Baggot Street. Her heeled boots clicked and clacked noisily upon the pavement, and in the distance she heard the drunken laughter of rowdy men. Elizabeth always made sure she was on the opposite side of the road when passing the Inn. The glow of the pub loomed into view, and music reached her ears. The singing was indistinguishable, but Elizabeth recognized the tune as a popular drinking song. After a sideways glance Elizabeth noticed that the men inside were all wearing uniforms.

‘Sailors.’ Elizabeth muttered under her breath. Back from their stint at sea, she presumed. What a life, she thought mildly. They were allowed freedom once their work was done. Elizabeth however, would never be free because she was a woman, and lacked the liberty that came with being a man. She wondered if her mother would pester her this week about finding a man. Why bother, she thought savagely, I might as well be dead if I get married. She would lose what little rights she had left as a woman. No husband would allow her to work for it would be her duty to bear children, and maintain a household. Her mothers voice penetrated her thoughts. ‘It is not about rights, or love, Elizabeth. Marriage is about social status, benefits, and security!’

Elizabeth was roused from her thoughts by the sound of her name being called. She turned to face the Inn, which she had passed several steps ago, and saw the figure of a man crossing the road towards her.

‘Miss Searson!’ The man called, slowing to a walk as he reached her side of the pavement. He passed under a lamp, which illuminated his face, and Elizabeth was relieved to see that it was Captain Greenwood.

‘You do have a knack for frightening me, Captain.’ Elizabeth put a hand to her heart, ‘I thought you were a drunken sailor come to leer at me!’

‘Only a regular sailor.’ He gave a small bow of apology; ‘I have been keeping an eye out for you.’ He added.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, ‘for me? Why on earth for?’

The Captain’s cheeks reddened, or perhaps he was just rosy from the intake of alcohol, ‘I thought I might ask, well, if it was all right to walk you home?’

Elizabeth felt herself growing hot, ‘Oh, no, really.’ She waved a hand dismissively, ‘Do not trouble yourself.’

‘I insist,’ Captain Greenwood took another step towards her, ‘It is quite dangerous at this time of night. It really is no time for a lady to be out and about.’

‘Oh, well, thank you Captain. That is very kind of you.’ Elizabeth said turning on the spot as Captain Greenwood fell in step beside her.

He talked casually to her as they walked, his hands behind his back. Elizabeth found that she had nothing interesting to talk of. She realized that they had never had a conversation away from the apothecary, where she was forced to be kind and understanding to all clients. George Greenwood was pleasant, clever, and charming, it seemed, and he talked to her in an honest manner.

‘Indeed’ Captain Greenwood said ten minutes later, continuing a conversation that Elizabeth had not been listening to, ‘Though I do find the laws regarding marriage quite ridiculous in some instances. By marriage, the legal existence of a woman is consolidated into that of the husband, under whom she must obey. I find it wrong that a husband has complete financial control over his wife.’

Elizabeth’s attention was caught, ‘You do?’ She said looking up at him.

‘Of course.’ Captain Greenwood gave her a sideways glance and sighed, ‘I do apologize, Miss Searson. I fear I have a lot on my mind. Do forgive my incessant whining. I realize how inappropriate it might seem for me to be expressing my opinions so freely.’

‘Not at all, Captain. I quite agree.’ Elizabeth found her respect for Captain Greenwood increasing, ‘What is causing you so much worry?’

Captain Greenwood frowned and seemed to be deciding whether or not to confide in Elizabeth. After all, they barely knew each other.

‘It is my sister.’ He said after a moment silence, ‘She is set to marry in a months time.’ He did not seem pleased by this.

‘Well, Congratulations to her.’ Elizabeth said awkwardly.

‘She is quite happy.’ Greenwood admitted, ‘But she is only sixteen, and does not know what marriage entails. I happen to know for a fact that the man she is going to marry is not what one would call gentle. I fear he may not be so romantic once they have settled into married life. I find him drunk at the Inn regularly. She says she does not mind, and the idea of belonging to a man is quite appealing to her.’

‘Many women like the idea.’ Elizabeth admitted with a shrug.

‘Even you, Miss Searson?’ Greenwood gave her a sly smile.

Elizabeth scoffed, and noticed they had slowed to a leisurely stroll as they cross through a park, ‘That is rather personal, do you not think, Captain?’

‘Indeed, I did not think you would be the type of woman who would be content as a housewife, with the wage you earn belonging to your husband - that is - if he allowed you to work at all.’

‘You thought correct.’ Elizabeth said fairly, ‘I do not plan to wed at all.’

Captain Greenwood came to a halt in front of Elizabeth and looked at her in an unusual way, ‘Some might find that socially humiliating.’ He said.

Elizabeth frowned and looked up at Captain Greenwood defiantly, ‘You sound like my mother.’ She said haughtily, ‘What I believe is my own business, Captain.’

‘You … you are a very peculiar woman, Miss Searson.’ He said with a small crease in his brow. He was frowning, but not in an unkind way. He seemed to be deep in thought.

‘So I am told.’ Elizabeth said, rather annoyed.

‘Do not misunderstand me.’ He continued, waving a hand, ‘I find you extremely … uncommon.’

Elizabeth felt her face becoming pinker by the second. She was not sure whether she should be mad or not.

‘Have I offended you Miss Searson? I do apologize, but I find it extremely easy to talk plainly when in your company.’ he said, frowning.

Elizabeth sighed and relaxed her eyebrows from their knitted position, ‘No, Captain, I am not offended, and you may speak plainly for I find it difficult not to most of the time.’

They fell in step once again and continued walking through the park. Elizabeth felt slightly awkward at the silence that followed. It seemed Captain Greenwood had run out of issues to discuss, and Elizabeth did not help matters by remaining silent.

Eventually they came to her front door. Captain Greenwood looked up at the shabby townhouse, with it’s dirty windows, and the peeling paint on the front door.

‘Good night, Miss Searson.’ The captain gave a low bow.

‘Goodnight Captain.’ Elizabeth gave him a small nod before turning on her heel and walking through her front door.

Once inside, Elizabeth peered through the sitting room window, obscured by lacy curtains. She watched as the Captain gazed up at her house for a moment, before putting his hands behind his back and strolling away in the direction from which they had came.

‘You are home early.’ Came her mother’s voice from the kitchen.

‘Hello Mother.’ Elizabeth gave a small smile as her mother, Mary, entered the sitting room.

‘Did I hear a mans voice outside?’ She enquired, walking over to the window and peering out onto the darkened street.

‘Yes,’ Elizabeth did not see the point in lying, ‘Captain Greenwood escorted me home.’

‘Did he now?’ her mother straightened up with a curious expression upon her face, ‘I did not know he was back in town.’

‘Yes, he said he came back only yesterday.’ Elizabeth explained, ‘He stopped by the apothecary this afternoon.’

Her mother nodded approvingly, ‘Do you think he shall call on you again?’

‘Mother.’ Elizabeth sighed exasperatedly, ‘Please.’

‘Really, Elizabeth.’ She huffed impatiently, ‘At this rate I shall never have grandchildren.’

Mary Searson was a middle-aged widow, and Elizabeth was her only child. They rented a small two-bedroom house on the outskirts of the town. The walls were often damp, and the floorboards creaked. They had once owned a nicer house, though they had lost possession of it when Elizabeth’s father had died four years previously, for a woman was not able to own land.

Elizabeth was in a rather bad mood by the time she had reached her own bedroom. She undressed slowly in front of the fireplace, and hung her garments over a chair. She washed the day’s work from her body at the basin with a damp cloth, and pulled on her nightdress. Brushing her tangled red locks in front of a cracked mirror, she sighed and wondered if Captain Greenwood would call on her again. He had seemed very interested during their talk while he escorted her home. Or perhaps he was just being polite. Never the less, Elizabeth had made her views on courtship quite clear. But, said a little voice in her ear, the Captain might be different. He spoke of equality, and the downfalls of marriage. Perhaps he would make a fine husband. He might allow her to work, and even keep her own wage. Elizabeth shook her head frantically. No, she thought, I am independent. I do not need a man.