Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

“ A re you ready for your next lesson?” Beth asked her husband the following morning.

He had eaten in silence after their discussion, and she saw an improvement in an instant. It was a lot to follow and keep track of to begin with, and she knew that, but she appreciated that he did not allow it to discourage him too heavily.

“Am I to have another lesson already?” He asked, “I am still reeling from the last.”

“Yes, and I am aware that time is flying by us and we need to have you start with all of this as quickly as we can, so that you can practice. Today will not be so bad. It is only your clothing that I wish to discuss.”

“Is it truly that bad that I warrant it?”

Beth stifled a giggle. In truth, it was not awful. He did not parade around in garish shades of orange and pink, but he left much to be desired nonetheless.

“It is your fabric choices,” she explained, “You see, clothing clearly indicates one's social standing. Aristocrats such as yourself wear expensive, finely tailored garments made of fabrics such as silk, muslin, and velvet. Lower classes, on the other hand, dress in simpler, more practical clothing, often made from wool or linen.”

“And my clothes are mostly linen,” he nodded.

“That is correct.”

“I like how it feels more. Silk feels like something a lady should wear.”

“It is something someone in your position should wear, and so that is what we must do. What you wear must also match the occasion, time of day, and activity. Being overdressed or underdressed is a serious breach of etiquette, and one that can be avoided quite easily.”

“At the expense of my comfort.”

“Well, you are far more comfortable as an earl than you would be as a pauper, and so you ought to remember that when you dress yourself.”

“Very well, give me my orders.”

She handed him some papers, and he scanned them quickly. They were lists, some with pictures that she had drawn as a guide.

“I have written these down for you, so that you know what to purchase for yourself when the time comes, but I can explain to you too. Morning dress is a white, high-collared linen shirt, often open-necked or with a simple cravat tied casually, loose-fitting breeches or trousers made from comfortable materials like wool or linen–”

“Wonderful, we can end it there.”

“Not quite,” she laughed, “There is also a plain, minimally decorated waistcoat for warmth and modesty, a frock coat if stepping outside briefly, and slippers or simple leather shoes There are to be no gloves or hats indoors.”

“I believe I can accomplish that. Do continue.”

“It does not change too drastically when you wish to take walks or spend a day in town. You will need to wear a white linen shirt with a more structured cravat tied in a simple but neat style, breeches ending just below the knee with stockings, or even full-length trousers if you wish. Then a tailored and slightly decorative waistcoat and a fitted frock coat or cutaway coat. A top hat or bicorn hat is mandatory when outdoors., as well as gloves, but a walking stick or cane is also quite common.”

“You make it sound as though I am an old man!”

“You are thirty, My Lord,” she laughed, “But there is no need to use one if you do not wish. A pocket watch with a chain would be nice, however.”

“Should I find one that I like, I am sure that can be arranged.”

“And then, at dinner, the only change you need to make is that everything becomes a little brighter, more intricate. It isn’t too awful, I assure you.”

“As for balls, which you will no doubt make me attend, is it my finery?”

“Precisely! You see, I told you that this would be easier to understand than last night, though I still have not shown you everything yet in that respect.”

“There cannot be more to a dinner. I refuse to believe it. This is some very elaborate ruse that you are conjuring up and nothing more, isn’t it?”

He was laughing as he said it, and she couldn’t help but join him. It was rather extensive, she realised as she explained it all, but at least he was making an effort, and it was not going to go unnoticed. She was extremely grateful to him for doing what he could, even if he was going to find it difficult for the first while.

“Sadly, it is all very real and you must become accustomed to it,” she explained, the remnants of her smile on her face, “But given how far you have already come in less than a day, I have every faith in you.”

“That is not something I am used to, either,” he confessed, “But I will do what I can so as not to disappoint you.”

He looked at her, and she met his gaze. She looked at him kindly, as if she truly did believe that he would be able to do what she was asking of him.

“I will see what needs to be bought from town,” he smiled, “Do you have any requests?”

“Only one. I think you would look wonderful in a deep purple. It is expensive, but it would compliment you perfectly.”

“Then it will be done. I shall see you later tonight.”

This time, when her husband left, Beth allowed herself to relax into the settee. A small part of herself scolded such brazenness, but she shook it out of her. If her husband could learn her prim and proper ways, then she could learn to live a little less rigidly when in her own home.

“I can see that you are warming to him,” Eliza smiled, “And it is a welcome change, I must say. I wondered if it would ever happen.”

“It isn’t a requirement for me to warm to him. I need not even like him if I do not wish.”

“And yet you do. It is a strange pairing, though, I must admit.”

“We couldn’t be any more different,” she smirked, “What with his need to do things exactly as he has always done and my…”

“Your same ability?” Eliza offered.

“It would appear so, yes. Regardless, you are correct in saying that I find him more and more tolerable as time passes, and it is rather enjoyable.”

“Does this mean that your marriage might be real eventually?”

“It is real, Eliza. We married in a church, signed our papers, and put our rings on. It is a marriage.”

“Yes, but it isn’t one fueled by any intense feelings or passion, or even desire.”

“Not all marriages are. My last certainly wasn’t. What matters is that he and I have an understanding of what we want to gain from one another, and we certainly do. He has a wife and can prove his standing, and I have stability in my life. What more could we want?”

“Love?”

“That is not a commodity, Eliza. I need security. Love is for those perfect ladies that have everything they could possibly want and are incredibly lucky. I am not a lady like that. I am a lady like myself, and that is not who gets what she wants.”

“Do you mean to say that I will never find love?”

Beth hated that she asked her that. It was impossible to answer, because she did not want to break the girl’s heart. She was a nice lady, doting on her and doing anything she was asked to do, but to marry and fall in love? When would she find the time? Surely, Beth reasoned, Eliza knew that, and her question was rhetorical and nothing more.

“Should he and I fall in love,” she responded instead, “It will be the single greatest surprise I shall ever have in my life. He is the perfect opposite of a gentleman I could love, and I am the opposite of a lady he could love. I am an Englishwoman, for a start.”

“That doesn’t matter! The earl likes you, I know it, and you like him too. If you continue to fight it, then even if it only lasts this year, it will not be a pleasant one.”

Beth thought about Eliza’s words, and no matter how much she tried to refuse it, she had to admit that it was true.

The earl was more than a Scotsman with rumors flying about him. He was funny, he held good conversation, and beneath the bravado he was a good and caring man, even if the way he showed it was misguided. He had been good to her since they had met, in his own way, and she wanted to believe that it was because he was a good man, and that he had good intentions for her.

She wanted to believe it, at least. Truly doing so was another matter entirely, but at least she showed willing.

“I have returned!” He said cheerily as he reentered the room, “Did you manage to suffer through my absence?”

“You have a rather high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” She laughed, and he smirked at her.

“I shall have you know that it has nothing to do with you missing me, and everything to do with telling me what to do. I can see how happy it makes you, you know.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Is it not?”

“Well… I cannot say that I dislike it. It isn’t that I enjoy telling you what to do, though! I simply like feeling useful. It isn’t often the case that I feel as though I am accomplishing something, and it feels nice.”

“Surely you have done good things with your life.”

“Good, perhaps, but not great, and that is what I wanted to do. I do not know what that great thing was, but it was supposed to be something, and now… I am a wife, as I was supposed to be, and I should be happy with that.”

“I know how you feel.”

“I would like to think that you do, but you do not. You couldn’t, because any time you choose, you can do or be exactly what you want. You aren’t bound by rules in the way that ladies are.”

“And you don’t have your reputation working against you.”

She laughed at that. She did, of course, have a reputation of her own. A widow, one that even her family didn’t want. She was an outcast in her own way, even if she was by all accounts perfect in terms of rules and etiquette. Another similarity she shared with her husband, she considered; no matter what they did, they couldn’t seem to shake themselves free from the lives they once had.

“Come with me,” he smiled, “It is late, and given the time of year I am quite sure that the temperature shall soon fall. It is time for you to learn an incredible drink for autumn and winter.”

“Is it spiced wine?”

“Certainly not. I am highly aware that you will have had a spiced wine before, and I am hoping to give you something new.”

“Everything that you show me is something new.”

“I could say the same about you. Now, follow me.”

He held out his hand, and against her better judgment she took it. She felt the heat coming from him, and it made her bristle. He was not wearing his gloves, nor was she, and her breath caught in her throat as he led her away. They walked down the servants’ hallway, following what felt like endless candles until they reached the kitchens.

“Cook will have my neck if she catches us in here,” she smirked, “We are not supposed to be in this place, especially at this hour.”

“Perhaps not, but it is our household. Besides, I come here often, and she hasn’t caught me as yet.”

“Often? Why do you need to come here? That is what Cook is here for.”

“Cook is an Englishwoman, and the drink I want is Scottish. She could try, of course, but it wouldn’t be the same. You shall see yourself, should you ever make your own.”

“My own what?”

“Hot toddy.”

“Hot toddy?”

“Precisely. It is a drink made from whisky, hot water, sugar, and spices. Watch.”

She did, looking on as he pulled various bottles and containers and mixed them in a pot. He lit the stove, and she took a step back.

“It is perfectly safe,” he chuckled, “I assure you, it is not dangerous to cook with these things.”

“How do you know how to light it? It was always forbidden for me.”

“You always have people to do it for you. I was not so fortunate, and I am thankful for that because it at least means that I can take care of myself, should that ever be necessary.”

She continued watching, eventually tiring from standing there and pulling herself up to sit on the counter. He turned back to look at her, and smiled. She wanted to ask him what that smile meant, and why he was doing so, but she was far more interested in watching him at work.

“Now this,” he smiled, handing her a cup, “Was a favorite at the inn. I became the owner a short while before I had to return to England, but even then the customers would insist that I be the one to make it. It wasn’t the same when the others made it, or so they claimed.”

“And so, if I do not like this, I never shall.”

“If you do not like it, I shall be astounded. Everyone likes hot toddy.”

She loved the way his voice changed when he said the name of something Scottish.

“Is this the drink that has that awful burning stuff?”

“It is not awful! But yes, it does have whisky. I assure you, though, that it is completely different.”

She took a tentative sip, and then a second, and then a mouthful.

It was delicious. It was sweet and spicy, like a spiced wine but even more warming somehow. She expected it to burn as she swallowed, but instead it gave her heat throughout her body.

“Hot toddy,” she whispered, mimicking his accent, “I must admit, I am a fan.”

His eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

“Wonderful, though you mustn’t have too many. It is stronger than it tastes. That is why the customers preferred mine.”

Beth laughed, and they drank together in silence. She wanted to say that it was because she was savoring the drink, but in truth it was because she enjoyed looking at him wordlessly. He was a handsome man– loud and abrasive and at times unpredictable, but there was no denying that he was a handsome gentleman through and through.

And when he led her back to her room, she told herself that it was because of the drink that she felt so out of sorts. It was the only way she would have been able to sleep that night.