Passing as Elias (2 page)

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 on 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 hand prints on 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 on the furniture when looking at him.

Elizabeth smiled politely, and brushed the front 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?” He 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 on 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 at her with 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.”

The 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 said as 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 on 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 down on a stool.

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth frowned as she took stock of the latest sale on 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 asked as 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. 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 in exasperation,  “I am sure you will manage for one night,” he said as 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 stomped 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 on the powder she was sifting through, a searce. Her attention waned, and her eyes burned with fatigue. 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 on 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 said as 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.