Drowning Feathers

The Respectable Lady Watson

Mrs. Watson, a lady of noble status, stepped out of her carriage and onto the muddy cobblestone street of London. She crossed the street, passing many fine people, until she reached the wrought iron gate of a townhouse. She pushed into the small yard and ascended the stone steps. She reached out a pale, clenched hand and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal the face of an older woman with blue eyes. She beamed at the sight of Mrs. Watson.

"Elizabeth! I'm so delighted you're here! Do come in!" said the elderly lady.

Mrs. Watson dipped her head respectfully and entered the townhouse. A maid took Lady Watson's cloak and hung it on the rack in the corner. "Aunt Esther, it's a pleasure to see you."

"And you, Lizzie. Tea?" said the elderly woman, Esther.

"Please," said Elizabeth. Esther led Elizabeth into the parlor room, where they sat across from each other on sofas.

"How was your trip from Southampton?" asked Esther.

"A bit bumpy, but that's to be expected after all the rain we've gotten." said Elizabeth. The maid returned with a tea tray. She set it down before the two women.

"How is Ralph?" asked Esther, dropping a sugar cube into her tea.

Elizabeth stiffened. "He's well."

Esther caught Elizabeth's tone and looked up. "Marital problems?"

Elizabeth rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. "You could say that."

"What is it, dear?" asked Esther.

Elizabeth sighed. "I… I've been reluctant to bear children."

Esther pursed her lips. "Elizabeth, it is your duty as a wife to bear children."

"I know, but…" Elizabeth trailed off.

"No buts," insisted Esther. "Honestly, what would your father say?"

"He would say that he's proud of me." Elizabeth said defensively.

Esther huffed. "Well, regardless of what Weatherby would have said, it is not honorable to refuse to bear your husband children."

Elizabeth stared at her tea. "I know. But after my first child… I just haven't moved on, I suppose."

Esther heaved a dramatic sigh. "Elizabeth, dear, you mustn't dwell on the past. This is your life. Don't think about that child. It'll only expose the scandalous way in which it was bred."

"It?" snapped Elizabeth. Esther frowned. "Bred?" Elizabeth got to her feet.

"Lizzie," sighed Esther.

"I must use the powder room." Elizabeth excused herself coldly. She wandered down the hall and entered the powder room. She peered at herself in the mirror. Her ivory gown, decorated with delicate pink flowers and white lace on the sleeves, felt foreign after spending so much time in breeches. Her hair was piled atop her head. She wanted nothing more than to pull the pins and clips and let her tresses fall around her shoulders to relieve her headache. But that would be considered improper in the eyes of her aunt. She clutched her empty stomach. Her chest ached and her breath grew short. There was a knock on the door. Elizabeth collected herself.

"Elizabeth?" called Esther.

"Yes?" Elizabeth replied.

"I… I am sorry. I know you're suffering. The loss of a child… There is no greater sorrow. I was insensitive." Esther said.

Elizabeth bit her lip. She took a deep breath and opened the door. "It's all right Aunt Esther."

"Might we go shopping? I could use a new dress, especially for that ball your husband is throwing. And judging the nature of your dress, you could use a new gown as well." said Esther.

Elizabeth glanced at her dress. She hadn't thought anything was wrong with it, but she figured Esther was merely feeling guilty. "I suppose." she agreed.

Esther beamed. "Excellent! Don't forget your cloak. It's quite chilly out."

Esther disappeared around the corner. Elizabeth inhaled deeply. She missed the wind, and the sun, and the salt of the sea. She missed her rough, wild hair. She missed the freedom of boots and breeches. She missed loose shirts and vests. Her waist felt naked without the weight of her cutlass and pistols and daggers. She longed for the sting and spice of rum. She longed for flailing arms, and jeweled fingers and grins speckled with gold. She missed his eyes, and smirk, his teases… She missed his ridiculousness. She missed him. Most of all, she missed his child.

…

Hello! This is the sequel to Wings Over the Sea. If you haven't read that, I suggest you do. So… Lizzie's remarried, living in Southampton, England and a respectable lady. Wonder where Jack is? Please leave a review to let me know what you thought!