Chapter: A Whiskey for Long, Cocktails for Elizabeth
"Well sister, I do believe this evening may be entertaining, but less elegant than our cousin the Dalyrimples card parties. Your Mrs. Smith is coming?" Elizabeth sneered as she put her pelisse on. A ride back to her fathers by Lady Russell, a hot bath and a nap had restored her composure.
"Yes, Nurse Rooke is bringing her."
"The nurse will not be joining us…" Elizabeth sneered, as she was handed into the carriage by Father's pretty footman.
"No, Liza. But Charles will, as will Harville."
"God, tell me Mary is not coming."
"No, Mary is not coming. Frederick bought her, Henrietta and Mrs. Musgrove tickets to the little operetta being performed this evening…. The one about…". Anne settled next to her sister, both waved good bye to their Father, who had poopoo-ed the sisters' idea of sitting in for Sophia Croft at a dinner of "orange skinned sailors, must be quite entertaining, counting their wrinkles, enduring their gout, recounting their adventures in filling their holds with sausages". Anne's explanation to him, that this would be her future life, was put down. Her father said she couldn't expect a baronet to be seen associating with those people.
In regard to the theatre, Elizabeth said bitingly, "Oh, don't tell me. I am certain that is just some crass entertainment meant for the lower classes. Mary and the Musgrove women should love it. And Mary can't get enough of that actor fellow, what is his name?"
Adjusting her gloves, Elizabeth glanced at her sister. "Oh, I received a note from dear Georgina - she, Darcy and Fitz are coming to Bath. Thank god Great Aunt Catherine is not joining their party. What she will say when the news of your sad, lowering alliance with your Captain Dog is apprised to her?"
Elizabeth smiled meanly at Anne.
"Sadly, we will have endure that low born wife of Darcy's." Voice venemous, Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You do know, as well, our dear cousin Elizabeth Steventon arrived today?"
Anne nodded. When cousin Ellie's note had been left it felt like a punch in Anne's gut. Though the two had never met, seven and 1/2 years ago Ellie Steventon had vowed to kill one Frederick Wentworth if she ever had the chance to meet him.
Ellie was a woman who kept her promises.
"Your cocktail awaits, Miss Elliott, in the reception room." Long said as he opened the door before Elizabeth could open her mouth. Anne smiled.
"Excellent. Good to know that old dogs can learn new tricks. Your captain impresses me more sister Anne, he is able to whip his lazy servants into a modicum of professionality." She swept by Long, trailing her wrap against his arm, with a pointed look at the man, who was neatly appointed in a well brushed short deep blue jacket, clean and pressed white pants, his sandy brown hair neatly pulled back. Dropping her pelisse on the floor as Long took Anne's Elizabeth stripped off her over gloves and dropped them, one by one, on the floor as well.
"It is good to know as well that your master does allow you shoes and a chance to bathe." She observed as Frederick came down the stairs.
"Fuck off Elizabeth. Long, give her a drink and keep her shut up and away from me." He snapped shortly, his breath catching as he saw Anne dressed in a deep gold gown. "I see you got my gift."
Anne's eyes were damp.
"Thank you… Elizabeth's modiste said that her girls worked all night long on this…" She fell silent. "And you look…"
"Like a popinjay. But there will be a lot of braid and medals at this supper, so I need to step up and out-braid them all."
He fell silent as he watched Elizabeth eyeing Long as he collected her outer clothes from the floor. Frederick sighed. And Elizabeth thought Anne was making a bad match with him. Haa - that would be rich justice if the hunger he saw in Elizabeth's eyes were true.
He smiled, thinking of Governor Randalls' niece running off with one of his Lacona warrant officers. The haughty girl had been meant to make a spectacular match as well.
Leaving Anne to finalize the formal dinner attack plans with the house keeper and Mrs. Rickette's,the cook, Frederick steeled himself for an attack on Elizabeth. Best to start quietly, but as he opened the reception room door, Long and Elizabeth stood near the fire. To his shock they both had glasses in hand, Long a whiskey and Miss E a cocktail. They stood close together, Longs free hand on the mantle. The man stared at the fire, head down, and as Frederick quietly went to close the door he heard Long say, "No, very recent. It was my mother who was Elven." Frederick caught a look of surprise on Elizabeth's face. His accent was not a working class one, rather one that would make even the baronet's legs quake.
Frederick pulled back, shut the door silently. In a normal household, in a normal situation he would have said something. In that situation, he should have roared at Long, even stunned him with a blow, for not knowing his place, for over stepping boundaries, for associating with his betters. There was a long litany of reasons why those two at that fireplace should not be standing - as equals – and so close to each other. A drink in the man's hand even. He'd said keep her entertained, not entertain her.
But Frederick smiled. One, Long was ultimately his sister's problem, and, two, Long was a wizard or witch or whatever that term was Mr. Moreau used. Definitely a handy chap to have around, plus an experienced fighter. Long was a smart and capable man, he had to be if he had risen to bosun for Croft. That man knew the rules of society, of class, and it would be interesting to see what Long would do, what Elizabeth would do, how this would play out.
Frederick was plain curious.
Too, Frederick wanted to give Elizabeth a nice long rope to hang herself on.
Long, interesting. Had an Elven maid of a good family given herself to a regular man to birth a Long? Someday he would have to buy the man a beer and hear the story.