Eliza Doolittle: The Life and Times of a Good Girl

Chapter Twelve: Mrs. Eynsford-Hills' Turn

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Eliza never thought that she would ever be going over an invitation list with Glenna Doolittle, let alone one for her own engagement party. The two ladies had always been under an uneasy sort of truce, never giving an appearance of dislike for one another, and yet, never quite taking the time to sit with one another and be chatty. Eliza found herself liking her new stepmother quite against her will. Glenna was open, honest, and quite a cheerful woman. The only thing Eliza did not really approve of was the flask of spirits Glenna kept trying to push into her hands as they sat on the sofa in Henry's parlor and pored over the guest list.

"Some of these people I've never met before in my life, Stepmother."

"Ah, but I 'ave, darlin'. They're your dad's new friends. Real swells."

"I really only wanted a small affair."

"Whatever for? You're a real lady, now, and you're marryin' up in the world!"

Eliza sighed impatiently. "I think the Higgins family would prefer a small party."

"Bollocks! Mrs. 'iggins gave me a list of 'er friends to invite, she did!" Glenna handed Eliza another list, and Eliza's eyes widened at the length of it. "She said they was folk 'Oo'd never speak to 'er again if 'er boy slighted them."

"I suppose I can see her logic. It would be rude to exclude family friends."

"'Aven't you any friends to invite, Eliza?"

Eliza thought about this for a moment. The smiling, glamorous faces at the Embassy Ball were a blur to her. She had enjoyed their curious chattering, but hadn't recalled any of their names. She had never been chummy with the other girls at Covent Garden, and in a snobbish way, couldn't conceive of inviting them. Wasn't the presence of the other Doolittles embarrassment enough?

"No, not really." It was a bit of a lonely confession.

Mrs. Pearce entered the parlor with a grave look about her face. "Mrs. Eynsford-Hill is here to see you, Miss Doolittle."

Eliza felt as though her heart had leapt to her throat. "Pardon?"

"She's insistent. Would you like me to send her away?"

Eliza cowardly side-contemplated telling Mrs. Pearce that she should, indeed, turn away Mrs. Eynsford-Hill. But, there was a niggling part of Eliza that remembered Freddy's last impression of her had been her hand striking his cheek and shrieking at him to leave. It had been completely inappropriate, considering Eliza had consented to be his wife. Resolved to face the situation head-on, Eliza squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and shook her head. "I will see her." To Glenna Doolittle she said, "Please, excuse me, Stepmother. This is a private matter, and I would be most grateful if you would-"

"Take me leave, I suppose?"

"I will call on you as soon as this matter is settled, I promise." Eliza helped Glenna to her feet, and gave the older woman a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much for your help."

Mrs. Eynsford-Hill rushed into the parlor, almost bowling Glenna over in the process.

"Aoww! Watch where your goin', I'm only walkin' 'ere!"

"Oh, shut up!" Cried Mrs. Eynsford-Hill, dismissively. With a glare, the angry woman pointed an accusatory finger at Eliza. "You infamous creature!"

Eliza pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded in greeting. "Mrs. Eynsford-Hill, won't you sit down?"

"No, I will not."

"Very well. Will you have some tea?"

"Not with you."

Eliza sighed at the squat, livid old woman. "You've come because of your son."

"Well spotted, Miss Doolittle!" Mrs. Eynsford-Hill straightened her back, rising to her full height, which was roughly a head shorter than Eliza. "I've tried to repress my outrage, but I fear I cannot hold it in any longer. You've treated my son quite shamefully - you know you have!"

Eliza bowed her head. "I will not deny it, Mrs. Eynsford-Hill."

"I fail to see how you could! Oh, to have my poor little boy have his heart trampled by the daughter of a common dustman."

Eliza's head snapped up, her eyes widened. "What?"

Mrs. Eynsford-Hill laughed at Eliza's astonishment. "Please, Miss Doolittle. Everyone knows about Alfred P. Doolittle, and they have made the connection between the two of you. Oh, you may have dazzled everyone at the Embassy Ball, but now, thanks to your infamous father boasting to anyone who will listen, they also know that you used to sell flowers and that the honorable Professor Higgins has been lodging you at his home under questionable circumstances."

"He was my teacher, and now we are going to be married." Eliza's temper was beginning to flare, her words hissing out through clenched teeth.

"I did not know that it was the mode to live with a man for half a year before becoming engaged. It must be a Covent Garden thing, I daresay." Mrs. Eynsford-Hill gave Eliza's midsection an appraising glance.

"There is talk that you are in a delicate situation, although, you seem to be as slender as a reed."

Eliza was winded by the remark. She took a deep breath, attempting composure. "I am not with child, if that's what you mean. I acted rashly when I told your son I would marry him, and for that I am sincerely sorry. I should never have said 'yes' when my heart meant 'no'."

"You should never have spoken to him in the first place, you sly piece of trash! It's disgusting to think that a mere flower girl could infiltrate our inner-circle with ease, and have people call her royalty. You'd have been killed for your presumption in a different time!"

Tears burned Eliza's eyes and threatened to fall. She bit down on her lower lip, and clenched her fists. "I think I would like for you to leave, Mrs. Eynsford-Hill. Please give Freddy my warmest regards and apologies."

"I will give him nothing but my sympathy, for having wasted his precious love on such a creature."

Eliza watched as Mrs. Eynsford-Hill took her leave, and waited for the sound of the front door slamming before sinking into the sofa and bursting into tears. It was not the accusations that hurt Eliza so much as it was the being confronted with the truth that her ultimate decision had bruised someone quite badly. Freddy Eynsford-Hill, while a stupid, shallow sort of person, was not altogether bad. What he lacked in brains, he made up for with a passionate and loving heart.

Mrs. Pearce found Eliza sobbing her heart out on the sofa. "Oh, Miss Doolittle." The old woman crossed the room, knelt by the girl, and embraced her . "My poor little girl, don't cry." Eliza was too upset to register astonishment at the show of affection from Henry's otherwise distant housekeeper. "Whatever that woman said, it was all a pack of lies."

"No, she was right to be angry. I am a heartless fraud; I should never have given her son hope that he and I could-"

"Hush now, Miss Doolittle. It's done and over with. You let Mrs. Eynsford-Hill have her say, and now she has taken her leave." Mrs. Pearce helped Eliza to her feet. "When I was your age, if I had broken down in tears every time I had to break an engagement, I wouldn't have had any time to get anything done in a day, let alone meet Mr. Pearce."

Eliza gave a watery chuckle. "You were a breaker of hearts?"

"Oh, the worst! But, that was when I had a pretty enough face to pull it off. I went about my merry way, until I met Mr. Pearce, who was ugly as sin, mind you, and the man told me to get over myself. Can you imagine? Needless to say, I admired his honesty, and for once in my life, ended up being the pursuer rather than the pursued." Mrs. Pearce had a soft, nostalgic look upon her face as she spoke, and Eliza could see for a moment, the great beauty that the older woman had once been. "You'll be happier with Professor Higgins, Miss Doolittle. It is always smart to stick with those who can see things for what they are, and still love you for it."

Henry and Pickering entered the parlor a few moments later. Henry had excused the two of them earlier in the morning, saying that they were going on a long stroll about town, and had failed to disclose the reasons.

"I say, what have you done to make Eliza cry, Mrs. Pearce? Have you been bullying the girl?"

Mrs. Pearce narrowed her eyes at Henry. "Certainly not, sir. Mrs. Eynsford-Hill was here earlier, and scolded her to hysterics."

"Damn her," Henry swore under his breath. "Pickering, Mrs. Pearce, could you please give me a few moments with Eliza?"

"It was nothing, really, I'm fine," Eliza insisted when they were alone.

Henry guided her to sofa, and they sat down together. "I hope you didn't let that ridiculous woman see you cry." He pulled out a handkerchief, blotting her nearly dry cheeks.

"Of course not, Henry."

"That's my girl." He studied her face, which was lovely, even with her eyes rimmed red and raw. Impulsively, Henry kissed her. This was a longer kiss than the last. It began innocently, a method of comfort towards Eliza, but when she sighed against his mouth, Henry found his self-control stretched taut and snap. He brought a hand up to cup her jaw, and deepened the kiss. For a moment, Henry feared Eliza would push him away and scream, but, to his astonishment, her lips parted and she leaned back against the arm of the sofa, inviting him to maneuver himself on top of her. Miraculously, there was still enough rational thought in Henry's brain, enabling him to break the kiss before succumbing to her invitation.

"Not a good idea, Eliza." His voice was hoarse, his resolve fragile as a moth's wing, especially upon seeing the blush that crept up Eliza's cheeks. A few dark curls had sprung charmingly from her chignon, framing her arresting face. "Remember, you're a good girl."

Eliza sat up straight, and nodded. "I'm sorry, Henry. It was wicked of me, and it won't happen again."

"Oh, it will happen again, when we are good and married, mind you." Henry grinned devilishly. "I hope more often than not." He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and stood up. "I've something for you, Eliza."

Eliza smiled, serenely. "Better than what you gave me a few moments ago?"

"That's a matter of opinion, you wicked thing. Now stand up and give me your left hand!"

Eliza obeyed, a crooked grin on her face. "Shall I close my eyes?" She asked, teasingly.

"Absolutely. I want this to be as ridiculous as possible."

She closed her eyes. The feel of cool metal slide up the third finger of her left hand, and when Eliza opened her eyes, she discovered a modest diamond ring, pear cut and surrounded by tiny opals.

"All those dandies in trashy novels seem to have one on hand for their proposals. I apologize for the rings' delay, but there it is. Feel free to flash it about in a boasting manner when your stepmother and my mother throw that silly engagement party that neither of us want." Henry was knocked back when Eliza threw her arms about his neck and kissed him full on the lips.

"I love you, Henry," Eliza whispered in his ear after she ended the kiss.

"You love the ring, you insect."

Eliza stood back and shook her head. "I would have married you without the ring, and you know it. I love the gesture; I know how hard it is for you to play the romantic, and I love you." She smiled. "You needn't feel obligated to say it back." With that, she flounced from the room. Henry caught her holding her hand up to the light, studying the light. "'eavens, what a rock!" She exclaimed.

He laughed, once again, enormously pleased with himself.