by Abigail Agar
Although she felt that her aunt was going above and beyond to make her feel foolish, she was also right. Ellie didn’t understand what was going on or why she was being sent into town with Mrs. Carruthers. She couldn’t understand the importance of it when there was no reason at all to arrange this.
“Think about it for yourself for a while, Ellie. I am sure that, eventually, you shall understand,” her aunt said, mockingly.
Ellie watched her aunt walk away and, within a few moments, she did understand. The entire point of this was so that Mrs. Carruthers could see whether or not Ellie was an agreeable young woman, worthy of her son.
The entire affair was a setup to ensure that Ellie would be a good wife, despite the fact that she was so peculiar. She recognized it now, even if it did cause her a great deal of distress to know that her aunt was trying to test her through this.
She quickly got ready and went to the parlor to wait for Mrs. Carruthers to come. Katherine came in with a look of apology.
“She is making you go?” she asked.
“Indeed,” Ellie replied.
“I am so sorry, Ellie, but here. I told you I would convince her to get you some ribbons. Let me put them in your hair. I will still let your hair hang freely, but this way it shall look as though you put in some effort to make it look nice,” Katherine said, taking two sections of hair from either side of Ellie’s face and tying them in the back with the ribbon.
It was surprisingly comfortable for Ellie to have the hair out of her face, but still maintain the comfort of having the rest of her hair falling freely. Then again, she realized, when she was with Mrs. Carruthers she would probably want to have her hair in her face. She could hide her expressions better that way and refrain from being seen by Mrs. Carruthers for who she was.
Ellie hated being so shy with people when she could be so brave and carefree with nature, but this was simply her lot in life.
It was only fifteen minutes before Mrs. Carruthers arrived, in her grey dress and elaborate hat which Ellie found to be utterly ridiculous. She hated hats and did not think them fashionable in the least.
“Eleanor, how nice to see you. Oh! And you are wearing shoes! A delightful change,” she said with a mocking laugh.
Ellie smiled with a terse, pained expression behind her eyes.
“Mrs. Carruthers, it is nice to see you as well. Thank you for being willing to take me on this outing,” Ellie said, using her well-rehearsed manners to try and prove that she was worthy of Mrs. Carruthers’s time.
Even if she had no interest at all in spending time with this woman or her son, Ellie understood that this was required of her. Her aunt would never forgive her if she did not do everything within her power to charm Mrs. Carruthers. She had no choice but to be the very portrait of grace and sweetness.
And while these things were not overly difficult for her, it was things like putting on shoes and not staring at butterflies that tended to present more of a challenge.
Mrs. Carruthers led Ellie to the coach and they made their way into town. Ellie very rarely took a coach, only when her aunt insisted that she join her for some purpose. Even though Ellie would have preferred to walk, she rather enjoyed the ride and getting to see so much outside of the window.
“Now, Eleanor, I know quite a bit about you, but we have scarcely spoken before. You must tell me more about yourself. Your mother and father, how did they die?” Mrs. Carruthers asked, the rude question sounding painfully casual on her lips.
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Carruthers?” Ellie asked.
“Their deaths. What happened?” she asked again. “What I mean to ask is whether or not it was some…genetic defect.”
Ellie understood what she was really trying to ask. Mrs. Carruthers wondered if Ellie might be diseased somehow. She wanted to know if there was something which could be passed along to the future generations of their family.
“No, Mrs. Carruthers. It was not from an illness. My mother and father were lost in a fire. The smoke got them, it choked them. They did not make it out, although the fire did not touch them,” she said, reciting what few details she knew about the accident. Ellie had been young when it happened and no one wanted to explain to her about the deaths of her parents.
“Oh, how awful. Such a shame. A young girl should never have to lose her parents like that. Tell me, did you cope all right with the loss or did you…well, they say that some young ladies are overcome by madness at such a loss,” Mrs. Carruthers said, hinting at sensationalism.
“Mrs. Carruthers, I did not go mad. I was but seven or eight years of age when it happened. I do have memories of them, of course, but I was too young to respond with insanity when I simply did not comprehend what had taken place,” she said.
“You did not comprehend?” Mrs. Carruthers asked, as if Ellie was incredibly unintelligent.
“What I meant to say is that I was in shock. It took quite some time for me to come to terms with what had happened and, by then the details were fuzzy as to how everything had occurred. I did not go mad because I was so busy learning to adjust to my new life,” she said.
“Yes, your new life. With your aunt, you mean?” she asked.
“Precisely,” Ellie replied.
“Your aunt is such a wonderful woman. She is kind, virtuous, and so generous for taking you in,” Mrs. Carruthers said as the coach stopped before a teahouse.
They went inside and Ellie hoped that the conversation was over, but she soon learned that Mrs. Carruthers was not one to stop talking once she had gotten started. She continued on and on, trying to learn everything she could about Ellie. And as much as Ellie wished she could escape the questions, she kept in mind that fact that her aunt would never forgive her for failing to answer them.
“I just wish that you would put on shoes more often, that is all,” Mrs. Carruthers said, once they started talking about Ellie’s love of the outdoors.
“Yes, I understand that. And I know that there are times when I must do just that, but I wish that more people in society understood the freedom of not wearing shoes,” Ellie said, trying to offer a different perspective.
Mrs. Carruthers gave her that look again. It was clear that she really did think Ellie might be mad.
Ellie did her best. She tried everything she could think of to charm Mrs. Carruthers and she continued to play the part of the delicate society girl who had dreams of marrying above her station, looking lovely at all times, and gossiping about the young women who were not so virtuous as they would have society believe.
It was remarkable to Ellie how easily the words came out when she responded to something which Mrs. Carruthers would say about another young woman. Ellie would nod and look surprised, but she would also hold it in her heart that those young women were still human, just like her.
She would never fit in with a woman like Mrs. Carruthers, but that was all right with Ellie. So long as she could lend her own voice to the conversation, she was perfectly content to be the sounding board of another.
One day, however, Ellie hoped she might be heard. She hoped that she might have an opportunity to encourage someone else to be herself. And when that day came, she would smile and know that she had played her part.
She and Mrs. Carruthers finished up at the teashop and made their way to the cobbler where Mrs. Carruthers wanted to find a nice, new pair of shoes that would match her favorite blue dress. She asked Ellie for her opinions on a number of different pairs of shoes, but Ellie knew so little about fashion and about shoes that it was nearly impossible to answer and she continually nodded with excitement and said, “Oh, those are so lovely!”
The response was clearly getting on the nerves of Mrs. Carruthers who wanted a more detailed answer.
Still, by the time Ellie was dropped off at the house that afternoon, she really was confident that she had done her duty to the best of her ability and would make her aunt proud.
Chapter 8
Jonathan was ready. He couldn’t wait to get
back to the old abandoned cottage and he rushed outside the moment his mother was settled in for the afternoon with her tea and a book to take her nap.
He had told her that he would be going for a ride, as he so often did, but he had not told her that he was going to go just a short distance away in order to speak with a young woman by whom he was fascinated.
Jonathan dressed in his most casual clothing, glad that he had pieces which could help him to pass for a man who had no wealth or title and that he was just like any other groom in England.
He did not bother to clean himself up after readying the horse. He allowed the dust and dirt to settle on his shoes and in the grains of his clothing. He didn’t mind at all, letting it look as though it was just dirt from his occupation.
After reaching the cottage, Jonathan dismounted and tied his horse just behind the house. He went to find Miss Windsor, but saw that she was not there. Even when he knocked at the door, there was no answer.
But Jonathan decided to be patient. He had realized that she wasn’t currently living at the house, but he wondered if she still might come by at some point.
He wondered about her connection to the cottage. It had been clear from her responses before that this place meant a great deal to her. Still, she had not mentioned why. She had not told him what it was that she cared about at the cottage or why she loved it. She had acted as though she had lived there before, but said nothing more about it.
At last, he saw her coming along from afar. Miss Windsor was walking down the path along the road; her feet were bare again. He was sitting in the garden, but realized that she had not seen him. She was too busy staring at the world around her, taking it in with great joy and excitement and beauty, most of all.
When Miss Windsor was still just a short distance away, he could hear that she was humming to herself. Then, with an eager look on her face, she crouched down.
“Here you are. See? I brought you something this time,” Miss Windsor said.
Jonathan craned his neck to see what it was and he was astonished when he realized that she had something in her hands—maybe nuts or seeds—and there was a squirrel coming right up to her to eat from her hand. A moment later, he saw the squirrel’s friend heading over.
It was an incredibly unique sight. How was it that she was able to feed these animals by hand like this? Who was she that she could gain their trust with such ease?
Jonathan continued to watch her without interrupting as she petted one of the squirrels on his head. He barely even seemed to mind. Jonathan was amazed by her ability to tame wild animals.
She finally finished feeding the squirrels and drew near to the garden until she saw Jonathan sitting there.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Forgive me. I did not see you there. Have you been here for very long?”
“Just a little while. I was hoping that I might see you again and I figured I could come here and wait,” he said.
Jonathan understood that this may not sound overly normal. She would have had every right to be uncomfortable with this arrangement and she could have told him to leave.
However, Miss Windsor simply smiled instead. She relaxed a bit and looked at him with understanding in her gaze.
“Water? Tea?” she offered.
“If it is not too much trouble, I should like some tea,” he said.
Miss Windsor rushed into the house and spent a few minutes inside while he waited. He was so eager to go in, to speak with her as she got it ready, but Jonathan knew that it would make her uncomfortable. It was not acceptable in society for the two of them to be alone together in her little cottage, so they had to avoid it.
“Here it is,” she said at last, bringing the tea out to him.
“Thank you very much, Miss Windsor,” he said.
“It is not a problem in the least, Mr. Potts,” she replied. “I thought I heard you come in, actually. There was a noise, like someone was there. But when I came to look, you were not there.”
He looked at her in confusion.
“No, I was out here. Is it possible that there is an animal inside?” he asked.
Her brows drew together in an expression which mirrored his.
“I thought I heard footsteps. Oh, well, it hardly matters. Perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me,” she said.
They each took a sip from their cups and sat together comfortably. Jonathan was on a small boulder which worked quite well for him and Miss Windsor was simply sitting on the ground.
“You rode your horse here?” she asked.
“Hmm? Oh, yes,” he said.
“It is just a short distance to walk. You must really love the horses if you went to all that trouble to make him ready and bring him here. Or are you going elsewhere after this?” she asked.
Jonathan was worried that she may ask him too many questions which he did not wish to answer, but he also hadn’t been prepared for these simple ones.
Indeed, why had he ridden the horse to the cottage? It would have taken him no more than ten minutes or so to walk, but he had been so eager to prove that he was a groom that it had made sense to him that he should bring the horse to prove the lie which he was using to cover for himself.
“He needed to stretch his legs,” Jonathan said by way of explanation.
“Ah, I see. Yes, it has been so long since I was able to ride last that I have mostly forgotten everything regarding horses. Such majestic and beautiful creatures, but I do not think I shall have an opportunity to ride again for some time,” she said.
“Why is that?” Jonathan asked.
Miss Windsor froze for a moment, as if she regretted even mentioning it.
“Well, I do not have a horse, for one. But the last time I was able to ride, it was my cousin who arranged for it. She insisted that I deserved a decent birthday gift and my aunt relented. I think she regretted it at once, however. She was not pleased by the fact that I enjoyed it so much,” Miss Windsor said.
“What? Why not? Would she not want you to enjoy your birthday?” he asked.
“It had nothing to do with my birthday. She was upset because I rode comfortably. You know, ladies are meant to ride with our legs on the side as much as we are able, but I am not fond of that style. I wished to run, to enjoy my time, to let the horse be wild and to be wild with it,” Miss Windsor said.
“Certainly. And, for that, you must ride comfortably,” he said.
“Precisely,” she replied.
“So, your aunt has not allowed you to ride since then?” he asked, thinking that was a rather exaggerated response to the matter.
“In truth, I cannot blame her. She has given me so many chances to be the sort of young lady she wishes me to be, much like her daughter, my cousin. I cannot seem to fit into the box she desires for me, however. I try and try as best I can, but she is still displeased when she sees that I am enjoying my days in nature,” she admitted.
Jonathan watched Miss Windsor as much as he listened to her. Her tone, her posture, all of it held the same message.
This was a young woman whose life was anything but free. All the envy he had felt towards her, believing that she was able to roam as she wished while he was being tied down, was false. Miss Windsor was every bit as stuck as he was.
