The Perils of Love

Chapter 2 – Dresses, Dinners, and Diaries

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"Elizabeth, darling, this is Matthew Phillips, and his aunt, Ms. Christiana Phillips. They'll be staying with us for a couple months, until the ball season calms down." Elizabeth dimly heard her mother say this as Matthew Phillips got to his feet, bowing over her hand to brush his lips across it.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Cole." he said, his eyes dancing as a smile lit his face.

She felt giddy with pleasure. He was so incredibly handsome, with his curling black hair... "Please, call me Elizabeth." she said, restraining a giggle at the fact that he had not yet let go of her hand. She claimed it back, smiling shyly.

"Elizabeth it is then - but you must call me Matthew."

She gulped, not used to this sort of attention, this sort of blatant flirting. She heard a light cough from the sofa, and Ms. Phillips came forward, the two women curtsying to each other. "A pleasure it is to meet you, Ms. Phillips."

"And you as well. Your mother has told us all about you in the short time we've been here." She smiled, softening the elegance of her features. "I daresay Matthew has been itching to meet you since we saw you walking along the road."

"Aye, I was wondering who such a beauty could be, and when I saw your mother, I recognized her in you. There could surely not be two such beautiful women who are not related."

Both Elizabeth and her mother blushed. "Well, Mr. Phillips, you're becoming very popular among the women of my household."

Elizabeth grinned cheekily at her father, who had appeared in the doorway of the parlor. Her father smiled back, before adressing himself to Matthew "You must have them falling at your feet back in Charleston."

"Oh, not at all, sir. It must be this clean Williamsburg air, it's getting to my head."

Elizabeth's mother got to her feet, straightening her skirts. "Well, we'll leave you men at it then. Elizabeth, I must show you your new dress, you'll adore it. Christiana, won't you please join us? I insist." Ms. Phillips smiled, following Mrs. Cole to the sewing room, Elizabeth following in their wake.

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"Oh, Mother! I adore it! It's wonderful!"

Elizabeth picked up the dress and twirled, watching the pink silk whirl around her. The under dress was cream silk dotted with tiny pink and light blue flowers, and a pink silk over dress above, which split in the front, revealing the under dress. Pink ribbons crossed over the chest.

"Well, try it on, dear."

Disappearing behind a curtain, the maids helped her get into all of the clothes, tightening the corset far tighter than she was used to, making her gasp and place her hands on her abdomen. Not fussing with her hair, she spun out from behind the curtain once fully dressed, turning expectantly towards her mother.

Her mother and Ms. Phillips both stared.

"Does it look all right?" she asked, looking around for a mirror. One of the maids had put a sheet over the full-length mirror in the room.

Without a word, Ms. Phillips took the sheet off the mirror, and Elizabeth walked towards it, looking at her reflection in the glass.

"I look… beautiful." Elizabeth said, spinning.

The two other women broke into laughter, shaking their heads. "One thing men like is modesty, my dear." Her mother told her, pretending to be angry.

Her cheeks were flushed, making her eyes sparkle, and her loose hair fell over the gown, highlighting the expanse of bosom revealed by the low cut bodice.

"I adore it, Mother." She said, clasping her mother in her arms. Mrs. Cole stepped back. "Be careful now, I wouldn't want you messing your beautiful dress up. Slip it off, it's almost time for dinner, in any case."

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Dinner was an interesting affair.

Elizabeth kept on being distracted as Matthew made eye contact over the bowl of potatoes set between them. Her mother and father sat at opposite ends of the table, and Annabelle, Ms. Phillips, and Mrs. Cole chatted about latest fashions at one end, while Mr. Cole and some of his business partners discussed business matters at the other end.

That left Elizabeth and Matthew in the middle, neither one wanting to join either conversation.

Conversationally, over dessert, Matthew remarked, "You're not a very proper girl, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth frowned. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The first time I see you, you are walking along the road unattended, your hat in your hand." He grinned impishly at her. "And the second time, you walk into your parlor with your hair down."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at him, taking a sip of wine. "You'd have wanted to take your hat off to feel the sun on your face, as well, and as for the second instance, my pins simply fell out just as I was entering the house."

She raised both eyebrows at him as he chuckled. "I'm not complaining."

"You are a shameless flirt, Mr. Phillips. I declare, you probably use these lines on every single girl you meet. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I do not use that line!" he protested, pretending to be affronted. "I use variations of it, but it is never exactly the same. After all, there are many girls in Charleston who are actually very proper."

Elizabeth laughed, throwing her head back. "You are incorrigible, Mr. Phillips. Does your mother know you are like this?"

"Of course not, she'd be appalled. Her poor heart would give out. Besides, I don't do this with every girl, just you. You bring out the worst in me."

Elizabeth just shook her head, turning towards her mother as she asked a question, and Matthew Phillips was left admiring Ms. Cole's handsome profile for the rest of the dinner.

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Later, Elizabeth lay on her bed, pulling out her diary from where she had hidden it behind her headboard.

Dear Diary,

The Phillips arrived today. A certain Matthew Phillips, and his aunt, a Ms. Phillips. They are most congenial. Matthew Phillips in particular. He is tall, as tall as Father, with blue-green eyes, curling black hair, and a wicked smile. He is perhaps the most handsome man I've ever seen, but Mother always warned me about handsome charming men. Apparently, they're nothing but trouble. Ms. Phillips is very nice. A widow – her husband died a few years ago, and she's been acting as a chaperone for Matthew since then. He certainly needs one, at least.

Mother and the maids finished my gown! It's lovely. And it's only the one for the first ball. Mother says a proper lady needs at least four ball gowns. She says she'll make me five! I can hardly wait.

Annabelle and Felicity are going to have to battle it out for Ben's affections. I really don't think he sees Felicity as anything other than a sister, as much as that may break poor Fee's heart. But I do think he likes her more than Annabelle. Ben's very much older than us, however. He was probably having – oh, how to put this – tumbles with women when we were ten. Even though Fee's perfectly lovely at sixteen, I don't think he'll ever see her as more than the gangly ten year olds we were.

On that note, Felicity was saying the most scandalous things today. She explained to me much better than Mother did about the relations between man and wife. She says her mother told her, but I could tell she wishes she had learned from experience (with Ben, of course). Oh Dear Lord, now I'm the one thinking dirty things. I do wonder what it would be like, however. I wonder if Matthew Phillips knows. Of course he does, with that silver tongue of his, he's probably known since forever. Oh, these are horrible things to think. And not very ladylike thoughts to write in my diary, either. I doubt this is what Mother had in mind when she gave me this.

I'm going to sleep. And not think nasty thoughts.

- Elizabeth Cole

P. S. I suppose I haven't been truly honest with you, dear diary. I would rather like it if Matthew Phillips kissed me.