Eliza Doolittle: The Life and Times of a Good Girl

Chapter Fourteen: Aftermath and Engagement Party

Eliza sensed a disturbing undercurrent of tension at Catherine's baptismal party. Henry was silent and brooding, and Edward seemed to take great lengths to be at least a half room away from his older brother at all times. Either Jane was completely oblivious, or doing a very convincing job of pretending she was.

Eliza sat next to Jane, marveling at the thought of such a petite woman giving birth, let alone six times. Jane only came up to Eliza's shoulders, and she was extremely fine-boned. Her only bold feature seemed to be her riotous red-gold curls, that rebelled against her tight chignon. Other than that, Jane was plain and pure as spring water. Eliza found it hard to believe the woman was little over a decade older than herself, for Jane's stature made her seem a perpetual child.

"My mother's name was Catherine," Eliza informed Jane, as the two of them fussed over the newborn.

"Really? It's such a lovely name, and Edward was oddly insistent on it. It was odd in that he's never shown much interest in names our children have, although when Little Henry was named, Edward was a little put out. Edward and Henry have never got on, for some strange reason." Jane shrugged. "I find Henry endlessly fascinating, and I quite like him."

"You've known the Higgins family for a long time, then?"

Jane nodded, while tugging at the blanket covering sleeping baby Catherine. "All my life it seems." She studied the child, thoughtfully. "I do recall Edward mentioning a Catherine when we were children; perhaps that is where he got the name." Jane looked up at Eliza with a curious look. "How was it that you met Henry? No one ever tells me anything."

"Oh, well, that is quite a long story, and a rather shocking one."

Jane's eyes lit up. "Oh, please tell! I do love a long and shocking story."

"Perhaps another time, Jane, in private."

Across the room, Henry Higgins approached his younger brother. "What the devil are you thinking, dragging up that old business?" He hissed, grabbing Edward by the arm in a vice grip and leading him to a secluded alcove.

Edward gave his brother a clueless grin. "What are you talking about, man?"

"Waiting until the most inconvenient damn moment to try and get a rise out of me. Did you want me to cause a scene at your daughter's christening?"

"Catherine is a very common name for girls."

"Rubbish. The meaning isn't common for you or for me!"

Edward's carefree guise slipped; he glared at Henry. "Very well then. I like seeing you squirm; I like knowing that your conscience still tortures you. I think I may despise you."

"Why? That was ages ago, damn you!"

"I wonder what Catherine is doing nowadays. Probably she's some used up old bangtail, because I never heard about any respectable family taking her in. Especially since the story was she seduced a schoolboy." Edward hissed the last part from behind clenched teeth, his eyes blazing.

"Edward, desist. Why can't we let bygones be bygones?"

"Because you persist in apologizing to the wrong person." Edward glanced over at Eliza, who was chatting animatedly with Jane, completely unaware she was being observed. "She's very pretty. I guess you lead a pretty charmed life, having young women you don't deserve hanging off of your arm like you're some sort of prize." He looked back at Henry. "I was happy when you were a bachelor, because I thought that was what you deserved, to die alone. You still do, you know. Count your blessings, and hold on tight to that sweet angel." He started to walk away, but Henry grabbed his arm.

"That almost sounds like a threat, Edward."

Edward threw off Henry's arm and continued to stalk away, putting his very best host smile on when he came in view of the other guests. Henry composed himself, and emerged from the alcove, heading for Eliza. Why did her trusting smile wound him so?

"Eliza, I'm dreadfully tired, as is Pickering. I think we should take our leave." He held out his hand, and, to his relief, she took it, and stood up.

"It was so nice to meet you. I do hope to see you at the engagement party next week," Said Eliza to Jane. The older woman beamed and nodded.

"I can hardly wait. Mother Higgins tells me it's going to be the biggest party she has hosted in ages. She never thought she would get to marry Henry off, you know." Jane shot Henry a teasing smile. "I do hope he's not a dreadful beast to you. There are reasons certain men stay on the market so long."

"Pax, you shrew!" Henry cried in mock offense.

"Such peace offerings are cheapened when you refer to me as 'shrew', dearest brother, but let us be friends and bid each other farewell." Jane rose and kissed Henry on the cheek, and then gave a kiss to Eliza. "I think it is lovely that you found each other," she whispered, squeezing Eliza's hand.

On the taxi ride home, Eliza noticed Henry had settled once more into moody silence.

"Darling, Jane told me that you and Edward don't get on."

"An astute observation."

"Might I ask why?"

"No you may not!" Henry thundered, giving Eliza a start. He had not exactly been tender since their engagement, but he had curbed his temper considerably. Something was truly bothering him. "Forgive me, Eliza. It's been a sore subject today, and I don't want to elaborate any further."

The rest of the ride home was conducted in silence. Eliza almost wished she had shared a cab with Pickering, he was never moody or silent, for that matter.

Eliza found herself letting alcohol touch her lips for the first time in her life. It was a drastic decision, she realized, but the circumstances had driven her thus. She was standing in Mrs. Higgins' ballroom, dressed to the nines in an evening gown of violet watered silk, and listening to the many congratulations from people she had never seen before in her life. Henry was off talking to colleagues and chums, and had unfeelingly left her with the wives of said colleagues and chums.

"I am astonished that Henry has decided to give up his bachelorhood for someone so young!" Exclaimed a stunning, icy blonde name Jillian Webster. She was in her early forties, and elegant as a swan. It also appeared that she did not care for Eliza, which explained her complete lack of tact.

"I am nearly twenty-four, hardly as young as all that."

"And he is on the wrong side of forty, if memory serves." Jillian smirked. "I suppose I can see the appeal of that. I am sure you make him feel very young." She shot a knowing look at the other, married women, and they smothered their laughing mouths with elegantly gloved hands.

"Say, didn't you throw over Freddy Eynsford-Hill for him?" Asked Alicia Moore, who was closer to Eliza's age than the rest of the women. She had married a cousin of Henry's, whose name Eliza couldn't recall.

"No sense in denying it. Yes, Mr. Eynsford-Hill proposed. I weighed both options, and realized Henry was the wiser choice."

"Money is always the wiser choice, isn't it, my dear?" Jillian replied, cattily.

"I was referring to matters of my heart, Mrs. Webster. Your remark says rather more about you than it does about me," Eliza retorted heatedly. "Excuse me ladies, the air in here is rather foul, and I need to step outside." Eliza squared her shoulders and made a graceful exit, resisting the urge to flee.

The air outside was cool and welcoming, bringing a chill to her cheeks that had previously been burning from her first glass of champagne. It was clear she would need another before the night was through. Eliza did not understand those women at all. Prying, and catty, especially Jillian Webster. She clutched the railing of the balcony until her knuckles turned white. Had this been Covent Gardens in a previous lifetime, Eliza most likely would have thrashed the girl. This wasn't the streets of London though, this was society, and Eliza had to bear it with an air of indifference she had not yet mastered.

With one final gulp of fresh air, Eliza prepared herself for battle and headed back into the ballroom. The gaggle of shrews were not in the place she had left them, so Eliza searched the room for other familiar faces. She accepted another flute of champagne, and started to head towards Henry. Voices from behind a nearby pillar caught her attention. It was Jillian and Alicia.

"…I still can't mete out what Henry is doing with her. He swore to me that he could not stand virgins, but would not marry a woman who had been had by other men, and that is one of the reasons he stayed single," Jillian hissed.

"He certainly doesn't mind having women who are already married, eh, Jill?"

Eliza pressed her back against the pillar, unable to walk away from the unfolding conversation. She finished her flute of champagne and signaled for another one. She decided to take two. Her heart was beating furiously against her chest.

"Oh, he hasn't seen me for almost a year. Last we spoke he was rambling on about some new 'project' and barely paying me any mind at all." Jillian laughed bitterly.

"Do you think he will see you after he is married?"

"Oh most likely. Like I said before, virgins bore him. That poor little lamb is liable to faint dead away the second he drops his trousers on their wedding night! I passed him a note, reminding him of our arrangement, and inviting him to continue it, although he's made no sign that he's read it. Typical Higgins."

Eliza found she could not hear any more of it. She crossed the room to Henry, who was laughing with Pickering and other friends. He regarded her warmly, and his friends nodded at her. "Eliza, you are terribly flushed."

"I'm sorry, Henry. I just wanted to let you know that I am not feeling well, and I am going to find a room to have a lie down. I don't want to impose on your good time." It was not a lie, Eliza was feeling dizzy, drunk on emotion and too much champagne. She swayed a bit; Henry's face darkened with concern.

"Good lord!" He gently took one of Eliza's arms in an attempt to steady her. "Excuse me, gentlemen." The two left the ballroom together, with every scrutinizing eye on them.

Once they were away from the critical eyes of their guests, and halfway up the stairs, Henry took Eliza in his arms and began to carry her the rest of the way. Her head, heavier than it had ever been, fell to rest against his chest. "Your friends' wives are horrid," she muttered.

"I know, I'm sorry I left you to the wolves, Eliza. I just thought that for us to hang off of each other all loving-like the entire night would be untoward."

Eliza gave a muffled chuckle. "You would never act loving-like with me in public; You oughtn't carry on with your colleagues' wives, you know."

Henry paused in the middle of the hallway and set her down on her feet so he could get a good luck at her. Eliza was drunk! "What do you know about any such thing?" He asked, taken aback.

"Jillian. I overheard her talking. Did you enjoy her note?"

"I burnt it without the dignity of a response, if you must know," Henry replied, glaring at his inebriated fiancé. He caught her as she swayed forward. Immediately, he became aware of her curves pressed tantalizingly against his chest. Her lips were centimeters away from his own.

"She said that you would tire of me, and that you resolved long ago never to take a virgin." Eliza pressed a quick kiss on his bottom lip, her sweet brown eyes slightly unfocused.

"I said a lot of foolish things. I am marrying you, aren't I?"

"Will you tire of me and run back to her arms? Surely she knows much more about how to please you." She was squirming slightly against him, and he willed himself to get a hold of the arousal that hummed through his entire being.

"Damn it, Eliza! If you do not cease your wriggling about, I will have to show you just how easily you can please me. Given your state of inebriation and our state of not-quite-wedlock, I daresay we would both feel very foolish in the morning." He placed a hand on the small of her back, and led her down the hall to a guest bedroom. "Now go lie down, and I will retrieve you once I can find Pickering and we can leave. I will make your excuses."

Eliza actually batted her eyelashes! "May I have a kiss goodnight?"

"No! Bad idea!" He turned and fled before the instinct to follow into the guest room and ravish her overtook him. It would not do. Not in his mother's home.

"When will this damned engagement be over and done with anyway?" He asked himself out loud.

-Earlier that Evening-

Edward Higgins rolled his eyes at the sumptuousness of his older brother's engagement party. Clearly, his mother was overjoyed that Henry was finally settling down, and expressing her happiness by throwing a party that would undoubtedly be discussed in the papers the next day. He smirked at the decorations. Eleanor Higgins' elegant style clashed horribly with Glenna Doolittle's noveau riche ideals. Carnation pink crepe hangings. Edward shuddered. He glanced over at his mother, who seemed to be getting on quite famously with Eliza's cockney upstart of a stepmother. Shocking.

It was curious, Eliza Doolittle's humble beginnings. Edward had laughed when Henry had told him Eliza had been a flower girl, thinking it was some sort of joke. Not that it mattered. Henry was old and rich enough to marry from whichever class he pleased, and Eliza was exquisite. More than Henry ever deserved.

The more Edward studied Eliza's elegant form, the more it struck him with an old familiarity. The eye and hair color were all wrong, and she was certainly taller and more slender then Catherine Fitzroy, but the shape and tilt of her eyes, her lips and the shape of her face were all something he had seen before. He had overhead Eliza tell Jane that her mother had been named Catherine and it struck him to the core. Probably a coincidence. Catherine was such a commonly used name.

Edward was surprised when Eliza's father, Alfred, approached him. "You're the Professor's bruver, I 'ear. Never told me 'e 'ad family."

"Yes, well, Henry and I don't see each other very often." Edward squinted at Alfred. Hard to see where Eliza got any of her sublime looks.

"I was a 'andsome man in me 'eydey. 'Andsome enough to attract Eliza's muver." Alfred explain, shrewdly catching Edward's thinly veiled look of disgust.

"Was she a pretty woman?"

Alfred's face took on a dreamy, nostalgic expression. "Bee-yoo-ti-ful. Tell you the truth, I 'ad no business wiv' her, truly. She was a ladies' maid, too 'igh class for a dustman."

Edward's heart started to beat wildly against his chest, his face flush. "A ladies' maid you say?"

Alfred nodded. "Loverly speakin' voice, and the like." He laughed bitterly. "When I was in me cups, I used to beat 'er for speakin' 'igh class. If I knew then what I know now…" He trailed off, his eyes a bit misty. "That's all in the past. She died givin' birth to a baby what was too young to be born. My fault, I'm sure." He reached in to the inside pocket of his dress coat and pulled out a silver frame and a letter, folded up with a broken seal. "I only got the one picture of 'er and baby Eliza, and a letter she used to keep in a box. I was gonna give it to Eliza tonight."

Edward's breath caught in his throat as he studied the little photograph. His elegant, lovely old friend was preserved in eternal youth, holding a chubby, dark haired baby. He felt tears burning when he realized she was truly dead, and had been for years. His eyes fell upon the letter. The seal was Henry's.

"Have you read the letter?" Edward asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Alfred shook his head. "No, I've no right. It was one of the few things she brought wiv' 'er when she came to me. It's for Eliza's eyes."

"Why haven't you given them to her yet?"

"To tell you the truth, I 'aven't the courage. Eliza and I don't talk 'bout 'er muver. I fink she blames me for all that 'appened, and rightly so."

Edward held out an upturned palm. "Let me take them, I will see that she gets them."

Alfred studied Edward, hesitantly. "You'll make sure she gets them? Maybe keep me name out of it?"

"Absolutely."

The tools of Henry's destruction changed hands, hands that trembled with eagerness.