Hey everyone! This is my first time posting here, and I'm glad to be here. Obviously MFL doesn't belong to me, and neither do any of the characters (except Katie, since I created her for my own purposes in the story). Please Read and Review, I love constructive criticism thanks Maggie
Lovely, I thought, glancing at my ring. I smiled, thinking about how this had happened, from a flower girl to the fiancé of Professor Henry Higgins of 240A Wimpole Street. Mrs. Professor Higgins, it had an interesting, though altogether welcome, ring to it.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about this was that nobody knew of my origins, well not the truth anyway, unless we had told them. Some said I was a Hungarian Princess; others did connect the relation to the rich Alfred Doolittle, but not correctly. The truth was that the mysterious Miss Eliza Doolittle would remain a mystery to society.
I had taken up teaching what my Henry had taught me, while he occupied himself with recordings and such. We currently had, besides the servants, two others residing in our large home on Wimpole Street. Katie Kenney, an Irish girl desperate to learn to speak proper English. Henry had known her father at one point, otherwise she would not have been able to come close to affording the lessons, but she learned from me free of charge.
Our other guest was an interesting character who was widely known as Colonel Hugh Pickering, our good friend who was the only reason my lessons had been completed. The Colonel had bet Henry that he couldn't pull off passing me off as a Duchess at the Embassy ball within three months; of course Henry had not only passed me off as a Duchess, but as a foreign Princess, not that this was easy of course.
Henry hadn't learned one thing, he treated this girl exactly the same way he had treated me, miserably. Fortunately Pickering and I evened it out a bit, treating the girl as a lady, and even spoiling her a bit when Henry wasn't looking. The only main difference was the study sessions weren't nearly as late, as Henry was considerably more eager to come to bed.
I currently sat in the study, helping the girl to work on saying "the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain," with the correct accentuation. Pickering and Henry sat relaxing, Henry in his chair, leaning back and resting his feet on his desk, undoubtedly putting dirt on anything on there—so that was how his desk got so dirty, I'd have to neaten up tomorrow. Pickering was spread out on one of the couches, Katie and I sat side by side on the other couch. She had an icepack pressed to her pale forehead, strawberry blonde hair in casual disarray. Her freckles seemed brighter than usual, probably because her skin was paler than usual from lack of sleep.
"Come Henry," I said suddenly, "Let's get to bed."
"Be reasonable Henry, if you kill the girl she'll never say it correctly," Pickering added.
"If Eliza could do it, so can she," he said, "It didn't kill Eliza, so Katie can last at least that long, although I've found the Irish to be much heartier than our pale and weak English girls, so she can probably last longer."
"Well, I'm going to bed!" I announced, yawning, "And so will she," I added. "You can do as you like."
"You can't just take my pupil!"
"I can and am Henry, come Katie."
The girl almost collapsed upon standing. Pickering smiled walking over and placing an arm under her back, and below her knees, picking her up easily. "Eliza, I'll need to get her door."
"Of course."
Katie tried to pull herself upright in his arms.
"Relax," ordered Pickering kindly.
"But to be seen such—with a man—an unmarried bachelor at that! It's scandalous!" she said.
"There's only us to see, and we won't tell anyone, he's just going to get you upstairs, so I can get you to bed," I explained kindly.
"Ok, but just this once," she said hesitantly.
When we got upstairs, he left us in her bedroom to get her ready for bed, I heard him moving about in the next room over.
I tucked her in and kissed her forehead, "Sweet dreams, dear."
A ray of light crossed my face, as I heard the door squeak open, and I heard, "Eliza, are you coming to bed?"
Apparently he had forgiven me for 'stealing his pupil'. "Yes Dear, goodnight Katie," she was already asleep, completely exhausted, the poor dear.
I exited, shutting the door behind me.
Henry opened conversation a moment later, "You know Eliza, you'd make quite an amiable mother."
I was shocked at his way of suggesting it so bluntly, "Henry!" I scolded, "You aren't suggesting?" I broke out in giggles.
"It was supposed to be a compliment," he said, indignant, "and, No, no, of course not—," he paused, "Ok, maybe—ok, yes—not until after the wedding of course!"
I sighed, slipping into our room and through to the bathroom to take a nice hot bath.
As I slipped into bed, a strong arm wrapped around my hips, and I felt Henry pull me towards his warm body, he had most definitely forgiven me.
"What does this mean," I asked a giggle escaping my lips, he put a finger to my lips.
"We will—once we're married, right?"
"We will what?" I whispered in return.
"Eliza how the devil can you be so blind? You know exactly what I'm asking."
"Honestly, Henry, I have no idea," my mind had not been on his act from earlier while I was soaking in a hot bath, in fact, I had been mulling over a poem I had read in a book from Henry's library, Pygmalion, and the beauty of the story.
"Honestly, Eliza," he said sighing, "Have little ones."
"Honestly Henry? How should I know? But I sincerely cannot imagine you as a father."
"I'll spoil our little girl, I'll be a wonderful father."
"And I thought you thought women were useless," I sighed, slightly exasperated.
"Well little girls aren't—only grown women—and you aren't…" he said endearingly.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I said flatly.
"Yes it was in fact—would you rather I would say you're worthless scum like the rest of the female gender?"
I thought about it a moment, "I suppose it's good that you don't think that the woman you've decided to marry is not 'worthless scum'. And why is it going to be a girl, why not a little boy?"
"Because even if a man is much less worthless scum than a woman, a little boy is much more of worthless scum than a little girl, I'll love spoiling our daughter, and I'll send her to the best college that will take her, and she'll be the best cultured lady in the world, and will find the best most educated husband in the world."
"What about a boy to follow in your footsteps?"
"What kind of man wants to follow in my footsteps?" He laughed a dry laugh, "Dear God Eliza—he'll probably love sports and not be interested in literature or phonetics—and by the time he wants me to play catch with him, I'll be so old I can't even move—and then he'll be ashamed of his old man—and he'll let me down too—when I want him to be a phonetician, he'll want to be in the army—not that I don't respect the army—I just don't want me or any of my children involved in war."
"What about carrying on the family name?" I smirked.
"Not all it's cracked up to be—anyway our girl will keep her maiden name when she is married—either that or they could do something totally new and different and combine the names somehow—her children will have some trace of Higgins left in her name."
"Whatever you say Henry, now I'm tired—I'm going to sleep—goodnight darling," I closed my eyes with a smirk on my face.
"What's that look about?" he asked.
"Nothing Henry—goodnight."
