by Jane Keeler
Thinking she was alone, she began to sing to herself, but her reverie was broken by a low voice. “You sound beautiful,” it spoke. Looking around her, she could not find the source of the sound, when a man hopped down from a tree holding a pair of shears. His hair was tucked into a cap and he wore trousers and a shirt covered with dirt.
“This is your garden?” she asked. A smile broke over his face and he began to laugh.
“No, but I do like to help out sometimes. Winifred is a friend of the family.” She smiled, unable to imagine her aunt being friends with anyone vaguely related to him.
“Well, I think it’s lovely.” Her wide eyes and compliments proved too much for him and he looked away, a flush spreading to his cheeks. He turned away and went back to tending the garden. Unsure what exactly she had done wrong, she watched him tend the garden for a few minutes more before walking away. Had she been too forward?
She had often been accused of being unladylike, and resented herself for it. It was something she had so often tried to cure, but it seemed it was ingrained in her personality. She hoped he would not hate her for it, and that it would not prevent her from achieving what her parents wanted. Winifred she knew would dislike it, so she would have to be careful to stay as proper as possible during this trip.
She walked back through the winding paths and swaying trees, forgetting about her encounter with him as she was again in awe of the plants. At the doorstep she stopped to admire the garden once more, when a voice came from within the house.
“ELIZA!” Suddenly Aunt Winifred was at her side, dragging her back into the house. She seemed out of breath and her face was twisted into a frown when Eliza turned to face her. “The servants told me they saw you going out in your nightclothes, looking like some street urchin. I had to run to come stop you, what were you thinking? You could’ve been seen by someone important and ruined your prospects.” Eliza seemed to want to speak, but stopped and reconsidered. She had thought her aunt might have been angry that she had spoken to the man in the garden, but it seemed she wasn’t. Confusion fell across her face as she considered what her aunt was telling her.
“But this is my day-dress. The garden looked so beautiful this morning that I wanted to go out and look at it – what have I done wrong?”
Winifred shook her head in disgust. “This is the dress your parents saw fit to send you here in? We’ll have to fix this before tonight. And your hair!” She tutted and waved a servant over. “We’d better give the girl a bath, Bella.”
Eliza was furious at being spoken about as if she was not in the room. “What’s tonight?”
“Tonight is your first dinner in society, where we’ll see how difficult it really will be to find you a suitable husband.”
Equal parts reluctant to accept Winifred’s way of life and determined to succeed to spite her, Eliza’s more stubborn side won over and she decided that she would at least attempt to be her best at this dinner. Relenting, she allowed Bella to bathe her and dress her in what must have been one of Winifred’s old dresses. Mustard yellow and ostentatious, it was everything that she despised. She looked awful. Her skin looked pale and washed out and the dress bulged in the most hideous of places. It was constricting and included many undergarments which Eliza was not used to wearing. Walking around gracefully in this dress would be near impossible. She felt as though she could not breathe.
Bella was now brushing her hair into a tight braid and pinning it against her head. Eliza felt sure that it would look just as ridiculous as the dress. She sat patiently, gazing around the room and out the window, to the garden she was still in awe of. Looking in the mirror she saw with surprise that the intricate braids framed her face well, suiting her in a way that was very different to her usual style. The formality of the piles of curls made her face open up and turned the focus to her large brown eyes. She thanked Bella for such a beautiful hairstyle and then she was left alone with her reflection. She blinked, suddenly unsure of herself. This dinner was not something she was prepared for, but she would try her best.
She made her way downstairs to get Winifred’s approval. With every step she took the dress felt heavier and more cumbersome. Taking a seat in the sitting room, she smoothed her skirt, every minute which passed making her more nervous for Winifred’s arrival. It was past noon when she finally arrived, and Eliza had steeled herself for the insults. None came. Winifred looked her up and down with a curt nod, told her not to slouch, and left as briskly as she’d come. Eliza sat there, stunned, and wondered what she was meant to do now.
***
The dinner arrived almost too quickly, as Eliza had discovered the house’s large library and resolved to spend her time there. Browsing the wide range of books, she had nearly forgotten about the dinner until Winifred had to drag her away. They welcomed guests together, Eliza trying her best to put on a fake smile and appear the gracious hostess. By the time they sat down to eat, Eliza could not remember a single name of the numerous men whom she had been introduced too.
Winifred, on the other hand, knew every single name and took it upon herself to introduce Eliza to as many men at the table as possible. Everyone within sight was pasty and boring, the men virtually all wearing similar items of clothing. Women were few and far between, and she was sure she would break some rule if she were to speak to them. It seemed that everyone was in a good mood, with laughter and joviality around the table. Eliza tried to add to the happy atmosphere, but wound up only feeling more sad and aching for her family. She felt as though she were destined to fail in this hopeless quest for marriage. It seemed that she did not notice the eyes on her body, these approving glances which Winifred made sure to count.
She sat through the many courses of dinner, amazed at the sheer amount of food brought out. The range of it was something she had never seen the like of in her small hometown. She ate with relish, though she was still attempting to follow the right etiquette and make small talk with the thoroughly dry and uninteresting man sitting across from her. His name was Jonathan, Winifred informed her with more enthusiasm than Eliza had believed she was capable of, after nudging the too into an awkward conversation. She nodded politely as he regaled her with some tale of a hunting trip gone awry, carefully ignoring his stares at her body, which she was taking care to hold in an upright position thanks to Winifred’s advice.
At a lull in their conversation – of which there were many - Eliza noticed that Bella was serving them food. Bored by everyone else at the dinner party, she struck up a conversation, thanking her once more for the beautiful hairstyle. She felt that Bella was one of her only companions in this entirely different world, and that it was appropriate to thank her for this. It seemed the dinner party thought otherwise. A hush fell over the room, and the stares turned to her. Realising too late, she looked into Winifred’s face and saw utter shock and disappointment. Feeling tears well up in her eyes, she blushed and looked away, but found she had nowhere to turn. Everywhere, they were watching and judging her for her mistake.
Eliza excused herself hastily, ashamed and confused at what she had done wrong. There were many unspoken rules in this new world, and she felt that she was breaking all of them. Winifred was trying to teach her, she knew that. But it did not come naturally. Nothing felt natural or right here. Immersed in her thoughts, she was halfway to her room before she realised she was being followed.
“Eliza, are you alright?” A young man spoke, his brown eyes full of a caring she had not felt from anyone since leaving home. Waves of thick golden hair fell around his face, almost as unruly as her own. He appeared genuinely worried, his brow creased with emotion. His clothing did not seem as pristine as the other men’s, showing wear around the elbows, and his cravat was loose around his neck. It was only after this consideration that she realised where she recognised him from – the garden! She had watched him and smiled this morning, and had not recognised him in his formal attire. When she asked, the servants had told her he was the son of a nobleman. Yet, for some
reason she doubted Winifred would approve. But there was something about him that she liked. It was in those eyes, she decided. He seemed real in a way that these other people did not.
She looked up at him for what felt like hours, but he did not look away. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but it seemed she was struck dumb by their encounter. Had he asked her a question? No memory of it came to her mind, she was so wrapped up in this moment. Deep into his eyes, she held his gaze without fear. This was different to her awkward encounters with Jonathan. Here, silence felt right. They made themselves known to each other in the thoughts and feelings communicated through this gaze. Instead of not speaking because she had nothing to talk about, here she had simply found a mode of communication preferable to speaking. There was no need for talking, and thus there was nothing awkward in this silence.
As if they were underwater, sounds travelled slowly towards them. The sound of footsteps brought them together from their submersion into a much sharper reality. Eliza realised they had moved very close together, so that their bodies were almost touching. He looked away and turned towards the source of the sound. With the peace of their gaze broken, she moved backwards, blushing. The footsteps neared and he grabbed her hand. The shock must have been written on her face. “Come on, we can’t let them see us together.” After a brief moment of indecision, she nodded and followed him down the corridor.
Together they half ran, half walked along in their efforts to be silent. Their hands electrified their every movements, through just a simple touch. The sound of footsteps receded, and Eliza sunk to the floor in relief. He followed her down, the smile from the garden returning and lighting up his eyes. She smiled in return, out of both relief and recognition. “How did you know my name? I don’t know yours.” She asked.
He raised his eyebrows, his face serious again. “Eliza, everyone at that dinner table knows your name.”
She did not fully understand, but persisted. “And yours is…?”
“Nathaniel Durrant. Nice to meet you.” The light had returned to his eyes, but his face was still serious. He reached out to shake hands, moving closer to her as he did so.
“Where’s your family from?” she asked, her face hardening. This was what she should do, if she wanted to help her own family. She steadied herself for an answer she knew would not be ideal for her.
“You’re actually worried about that? I thought that was more Winfred’s kind of thing.” he asked, frowning.
“I have to be.” She looked away, not wanting to meet his intense gaze this time. He reached towards her face, but he paused, his hand hovering above her skin before touching her. “You shouldn’t be.” Grabbing his wrist, her lips parted. “Nathaniel…” As soon as she looked into his eyes she was helpless. Their lips met as her hand went limp, his touch on her face sending shivers through her body. He kissed her softly yet insistently, and her qualms disappeared in his embrace. Strong and balanced, he supported her perfectly, so that any of her doubts were soon gone. She began to move with him, responding to his mouth on hers, her hands tangling in his hair. His lips moved to her neck and her breath began to come faster, relaxing into this new experience.
Their kisses seemed to last forever as they created their own world in this corridor. It was when they heard voices that they realised the dinner party was over. Eliza widened her eyes, panicking once more. Her dress was crumpled and her hair a mess – her aunt would surely suspect what had happened. Nathaniel seemed far less worried than her, his smile returning.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you something I learnt about when I was younger.”
They wound through endless corridors, his hand reassuring her and allowing her to be calm. She trusted him, she realised. Eventually they got to a part of the house that looked different from the rest. Simpler and more like Eliza’s own home. “The servant’s quarters,” he informed her. He seemed utterly confident that he knew where he was going, so she followed him blindly. It seemed like an age of winding through these wooden walls when they emerged from a door. “My room’s right there,” she said, amazed.
“It was a bit circuitous, but we got here in the end,” said Nathaniel. “I’d better return to my father or he’ll wonder where I am.” As he was letting go of her hand, she looked at him with regret.
“Will I see you soon?” He looked at her; her dark curls draped over her shoulders, the yellow dress that anyone could tell was Winifred’s, and that porcelain face that was so much more full of energy and life than anyone he’d met. She was beautiful and young and everything he needed.
“I’ll make sure of it.” He moved to kiss her again, but she was gone, into her room.
***
“Jonathan Wyndham was looking at you last night. The Wyndhams, now, they are a very good family. Their boy has many prospects, he’s perfect for you.” Eliza had been listening the whole morning to Winifred’s ramblings about Jonathan Wyndham, whom she had sat across from at the dinner last night. The only thing Eliza had noticed about him was that he had stared more at her chest than at her face, on the occasions where he had spoken to her at all. And now, apparently he wished to court her. They had arranged a dinner - entirely without her input – and now she was expected to attend. She would have to be charming and delightful, a picture of the perfect woman.
She immediately felt ungrateful for thinking these thoughts. Men like Jonathan were exactly the reason she was with Winifred in the first place. She was right, Eliza should be considering him far more seriously. But Nathaniel was now her first and only thought. He had thrown her into an inner turmoil with his kisses and witty conversation. She wondered if she should mention him to Winifred, just casually, to see what she’d say. Through quizzing Bella, she had found out that his family were well known and respected. She hadn’t dared ask anything specific about Nathaniel though. Something about his look and stance, a slight dishevelled confidence, told her that he was not the same kind of man as Jonathan Windham. And she needed a man just like Jonathan Windham.
She sighed as she realised what kind of interaction this courtship was going to be. It would be dry and boring, devoid of passion or interest, from her side at least. She had a feeling that Jonathan’s interest in her was limited to her looks. He saw her as an accessory to his upper class life, while she saw him as a way to help her family. She supposed this made them even in terms of the stakes in their relationship.
Getting ready was a challenge she faced once more. She let Bella braid her hair in a similar style to last night, making her gaze appear even more intense. The dress Winifred had chosen this time seemed to be more complicated than the last, with ridiculous amounts of layers that no one could wear comfortably. Despite the layers, this dress was far more suited to her complexion, with a dark blue over dress rather than the disgusting mustard yellow of last night’s encounter. The colour returned the life to her face, and she felt much more herself in this dress, though it was still incredibly constricting. All the layers gave it a nice shape which she could concede was flattering.
She left in a carriage with Winifred to go on her date, determined not to fall asleep on this ride. She was meeting him by the river, where they would walk for a while, chaperoned by her aunt. Then they would return to a dinner at Jonathan’s house, which Eliza felt sure would be just like tonight’s dinner. She dreaded the encounter, sure she would break another rule and do something else wrong.
The town was very pretty once she looked at it in day time, and the river was calm and still when they arrived there. The sun had come out and the trees cast cool shadows along the bank, while a narrow path wound among them. Jonathan came into her window of sight and she popped her head back into the carriage, knowing she would have to wait for him to open the door. As the door swung open, Winifred stood to get out first, offering him her hand before stepping down. Eliza silently thanked her aunt, watching closely to see how she could properly make an exit from the carriage. Grasping Jonathan’s hand she landed lightly on the soft ground
, and from the way he looked at her she supposed she had done it correctly.
They began to walk at a leisurely pace, making small talk about the weather and the river. Although Eliza truly did find it a beautiful setting, Jonathan still bored her to death. She was grateful for Winifred’s interventions to keep the conversation moving along. Winifred watched her, pleased with what she was doing. She looked beautiful, and brought to life one of her own old dresses. Lively and charming, Jonathan was entranced by her presence. There was something not altogether right about Elizabeth’s enthusiasm though. She appeared dedicated to her cause of finding a husband but at the same time it seemed that she was more interested in the river than in Jonathan. An odd situation. Winifred wondered what was going through Eliza’s mind – did she realise she was close to succeeding, so soon? She had surpassed the expectations of her aunt easily, as Winifred had not realised that she had grown into such a beauty. Still, there was something distant about her expression.
Eliza wondered whether her aunt suspected what her thoughts were straying to. Nathaniel was all she could think about, and she knew that the conversation she attempted to make was bland. Thankfully, Jonathan seemed oblivious. She doubted that he really cared whether or not she felt anything for him. To him she was nothing more than another emblem of his self-worth, just like the sleek black horse which pulled his carriage or the silk shirts he wore with pride. His life was filled with things that reminded him of his status and importance, and in this courtship she was added to the list.
They meandered along, until Winifred thought it fit to end their conversation gracefully. Jonathan took Eliza’s hand and kissed it, and she nodded respectfully to him. After all, it wasn’t as though she was leaving. They were simply going their separate ways to Jonathan’s house.
