Twenty-nine:
Facts of Life
October 1901
"If you don't have a talk with her, I will," Charles snarled. "She cannot just –"
"No, believe me, you're right," Elsie agreed with a heavy sigh. She held Gracie's hands as she lifted her little chubby legs and tried to take steps across the floor: it was the baby's favorite game and she had a captive audience in her mam's sitting room as her dad railed on and on. "She's also seventeen, Charles, for all the good it will do to talk to her about accepting a kiss on the cheek in public from the baker's boy."
"When I was seventeen –"
"When I was seventeen, I was married with a bairn on the way," Elsie said, "so maybe I'm not the best person to lecture our girl on propriety."
"You were perfectly proper as a married woman –"
"Aye, but I'd never have dreamed of kissing Joe in front of people," she reminded him, aghast. "I ought to put her over my knee but she's an adult, earning a regular salary same as us now."
"She needs to behave like an adult, then!" he huffed.
Elsie's lips twitched in amusement. "Oh, like we were behaving like adults this morning, love?"
He looked shocked. "Mrs. Carson, how dare you insinuate such things in front of the baby!"
She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Gracie heard her mum's snorted giggle and started giggling herself, chomping her jaws together, her teeth clicking. "Isn't daddy a funny man?" Elsie asked the baby with a wide smile. "Yes, he is – daddy is a funny man, lovey."
"Don't encourage her," he scolded with a sigh. "Two daughters – how ever am I going to survive this?"
"Charles," Elsie said, rolling her eyes, "don't be so melodramatic. Fiona will be good once we set her straight about what is and isn't allowed in public – especially as a school teacher who is meant to be respectable and above reproach – and we've got an awfully long time yet before our Gracie even thinks about young men. Right now, I think she'll be good to get on her feet and do some toddling around, my love."
He huffed and sank down into his chair. "I just wish that things were simpler – or that Fiona and Gracie were closer to the same age…"
Elsie swallowed hard, shoving her grief back down into its little hole where it belonged. "Oh, I wish that, too, but she's been such a help with Gracie that I loathe to wish it too hard," she murmured. "I can't imagine what it would have been like with two young children at once. It helps she's older, that we can reason with her like an adult."
"Yes, well… how exactly are we to reason with her when we cannot just take the time to go into the village and accost her for a conversation?" he challenged.
Elsie rolled her eyes. "I am taking the governess's cart into the village this afternoon to collect the boxes of new shoes for the young ladies upstairs, as well as the repaired ones for the downstairs," she reminded him. "I will take our girl aside when I've finished the errand and we'll have a conversation."
He hesitated, then mumbled, "Don't be too hard on her –"
"Oh for pity's sake! You're the one that was going in, guns blazing not five minutes ago," Elsie huffed in annoyance. "I will deal with it if you can handle watching Gracie for a couple of hours."
"I think I can accomplish that," Charles said, scowling.
Gracie lifted her little feet off the ground and swung from her mother's hands, giggling. Elsie bit back her pain, knowing it would do the baby no good to see her upset. She adored her little girl, but the poor wee'un had the unfortunate habit of becoming agitated whenever her mum was upset or in pain; so, Elsie hid it to keep the peace. Gracie certainly had her father's lungs.
Charles came over and gently rested his hand against the small of her back, steadying her, offering her strength and comfort. "I love you," he said very softly.
She turned her head and smiled at him. "I love you, too," she agreed. Anything else she might have said was silenced by his sweet, gentle kiss. "Charles, not in front of the bairn," she whispered, even as Gracie watched them and tittered happily as she kicked her feet and tried to get her bearings to take her first steps alone.
"It makes her happy when I kiss you," he teased, doing it again. This time, she threw caution to the wind and responded in kind, offering him a promise for later in the evening.
Elsie sat down at the tiny table and sighed. The teacher's house was tiny and the furniture was not so very grand – neither were Fiona's linens – but her tea set was still the fine set that she'd been given by her mam as a little girl. "I suppose you know why I'm here," she said as she reached for the teapot to pour them both a cuppa.
"Actually, I don't," Fiona said. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but –"
"The baker's boy kissed you in public and your father is going ballistic," Elsie said.
All the color drained from her daughter's face and she went grey in a hurry. "I couldn't stop him," she whispered. "He kissed me and started telling people that we're to be married and I – I told him NO, but he won't listen."
"Married?" Elsie exclaimed, her voice raised to a fever pitch. "Excuse me? Where on earth would he have gotten a bloody idea like that? Did you tell him –"
Fiona shook her head sharply. "No, mum – no, I never…"
"You've not even been walking out with him – he's not talked to your father… OH! I am going to show that boy a piece of my mind and a bit of my temper!" Elsie raged. Her hands were shaking as she set down the teapot and snapped, "And as for you – no man is to touch you. Do you hear me? You are a respectable woman, and if a man or a boy ever touches you, you are immediately to bring your knee up between their legs as hard as you can, and you RUN."
"Mum, I –"
"NO," Elsie snapped. "Your father and I cannot protect you now, with you being so far from the big house. I need you to listen to me, Fiona. You cannae allow men to take advantage of you in any way, shape, or form. Not if you want to survive in this world."
Fiona swallowed hard, near tears. "But what if I want to get married and have children someday?" she asked.
"Then your young man will do the respectable thing and come seek permission from your father," Elsie growled. "I am going to give Ian Mater a piece of my mind and if he persists in this behavior, Niall is going to lose his contract for the big house parties."
"Mum, I don't think it's worth the embarrassment –"
Elsie studied her for a long moment. "I don't care," she said, "and neither does your father. He cannae be seen to be taking advantage and not be punished for it."
Fiona frowned. "Mum, I –"
"You are kind and you don't want to see anyone get hurt," Elsie said with a sigh. "I know. But if he's seen to take advantage and nothing is said, others will do the same. And a simple kiss can turn into far worse –"
"But you and daddy kiss each other all the time when no one is watching," Fiona protested.
Elsie frowned; she really didn't want to have this discussion on top of the other one. "Because your father and I are married," she said, "and we care very deeply for one another. Kissing can be many things, Fiona – sometimes, your father and I kiss just to reassure each other that we're still there, and we still love each other very much. Other times… it's more… it's a prelude to wanting to engage in, well, intimacies." Her cheeks flushed. "Men who would kiss you like the baker's boy did are wanting to lure you into intimacies that they do not deserve. As a woman, your virtue is all you have – once you marry, your money becomes your husband's, your body becomes your husband's property, anything that is yours is then his. He deserves you to be pure when you come to him."
"You were married before you married my dad," Fiona pointed out.
Elsie sighed and looked down at her hands. "I am ashamed to admit that because I was not virtuous – and I was broken and scared – I went to your father's bed before we were wed. But he did the honorable thing and offered me his hand immediately."
"But you were… virtuous before you married your first husband?" Fiona asked, eyes worried.
"I was," Elsie said quietly. "And I thought I loved him, but it wasn't enough." She took a deep, shaky breath. "When you love someone, the marriage bed can be a wonderful thing – your dad and I are very happy together in that regard. But Joe and I were not… well-suited, I think. He did a lot of taking and not very much giving. But I had babes a-plenty to show for his efforts. And that's what you must be careful of – if kisses lead to more… the next thing I know, I'll be a grandmum and you'll be our on your ear, trying to take care of an illegitimate baby!"
Fiona blinked and swallowed hard. "I – I –"
"When I'm calmer," Elsie said, "I will tell you what you need to know about making love – but right now, I want to wring Ian Mater's neck with my bare hands." She looked around the small kitchen and frowned. "And then I'll make you some curtains."
The bell pealed as Elsie opened the door to the bakery. A scent of fresh pastries, bread, and cakes assaulted her, made her nauseated when coupled with her seeing blood red. And the object of her derision and hatred was standing on the other side of the counter, loading croissants into the display.
"Mrs. Carson, I'll be right with you," Ian said with a smile, not looking up to see the fury on her face. If he had, he might have flinched.
When he did finally look up, he paled.
"You keep your hands – and your lips – off of my daughter," Elsie spat. "You have no understanding with her, nor do you have one with my husband regarding marriage, walking out, or anything else." Her gloved fingers curled into fists. "She is a child; you are twenty and seven. Keep away from her or else."
He suddenly looked amused. "Or else what, Mrs. Carson? What do you think you could do if I disobey your high and mighty edict?"
Elsie raised an eyebrow. "I'm a farmer's daughter, Mr. Mater," she said, her voice cold as ice and dripping with malicious intent. "I've castrated more than a few animals in my time."
The smile vanished from his lips. "And if I wished to court and marry her?"
"She doesn't want you, and Mr. Carson and I are not so stupid as you think that we would allow you to lay another finger on her after what you did to Samantha this spring," Elsie hissed. "Oh, did you think I didn't know it was you who took her out behind the storage shed and promised her the sun, moon, and stars, then left her flat when she took with babe?" The sarcasm dripped from her lips scathingly. "If you touch my daughter ever again, I will castrate you with my sewing shears and stitch you up with my darning needle. Do you ken? Do you ken that if you touch anyone from the big house again, I will rescind your father's contracts and force him out of business?"
Ian gulped, his face grey and sickly. "Yes, ma'am," he said very quietly.
"And tell your father that we will not need the cake this weekend – Mrs. Patmore is more than pleased to make it herself," Elsie hissed.
She turned on her heel and stormed out the door, back the way she came.
"I don't think we'll have to worry about the baker's boy again," Elsie said as she rubbed lotion into her hands. Charles raised an eyebrow over the edge of his book. "I might have put the fear of god into him."
"Elsie –"
"He wouldn't lay a finger on me, and if he did, I would lay him flat," she reminded him. "No, I merely chewed off his ear in a figurative way."
He sighed. "It would have meant more coming from me –"
"Oh, no, dear," she said with a small smile. "I don't think it would have had quite the same impact." She shed her dressing gown and climbed into bed with him, chuckling when he immediately laid his book aside to take her into his arms and kiss her.
"I missed you," he said softly. "How is our girl getting on by herself?"
Elsie sighed. "Her house is a little hovel," she admitted. "It's ghastly. I'm going to make her some curtains and I'll see if Her Ladyship will let me take some of the worn linens over – she's not even got a proper tablecloth."
Charles frowned. "God forbid."
"I think the last teacher took everything with her that wasn't bolted down or too heavy to move," Elsie admitted. "Poor Fiona is struggling; she looks so tired and sad. I just want her to smile again."
"Right now, I'm more worried about making you smile," he replied gently.
She rolled her eyes. "You know, I was about to tell her about what happens between a man and a woman who love one another very much – and I was getting so flustered and very keenly felt that I needed you right then… it was so mortifying."
He chuckled and kissed her neck, then her shoulder, gently cupping her breast with one hand. "Oh really?" Charles said.
"It was all this talk of intimacy today," she scoffed, moaning as her eyes rolled back when his hand wandered lower, lifting the hem of her nightdress.
"I'll show you intimacy," he promised.
END PART TWENTY-NINE
