Eliza Doolittle: The Life and Times of a Good Girl

Chapter Sixteen: From Dover to Calais and Beyond

Eliza awoke, momentarily confused by her new surroundings and the warmth against her side. She sighed when recalling the memory of the night before. She was Eliza Doolittle no longer. The warmth at her side was the body of her slumbering husband. Eliza smiled at Henry. He was so unimposing in his slumber, the harsh lines of his face non-existent. She pressed a kiss on his forehead, and started to move off of the bed, but a strong arms wrapped about her waist and pulled her back. Eliza grinned when Henry sleepily nestled his face against her curls, sighing contentedly.

"You must still be sleeping. A conscious Henry would never be so affectionate," Eliza teased.

"I will show you 'affectionate'," he grumbled, and with a quick maneuver for someone so sleepy, she was pinned against the mattress, and being kissed quite thoroughly.

Several hours later, the clock read noon, and the pair were hurriedly dressing. The rail to Dover would be departing in less than an hour, and Mrs. Pearce had ordered them a cab that had been waiting for several minutes already.

"Confound your charms, woman! Now we are going to be late," Henry thundered, as they hurried down the stairs.

"I can hardly see where this is my fault! I was going to dress for our journey hours ago, but you had to be a man and detain me!" They bickered back and forth all the way to the taxi, the servants bearing their luggage showing no signs of distress at the fact.

The journey started out as quite exciting to Eliza. It was only the second time she had ever traveled by rail, and it would mark the first time she had crossed the channel. Henry mostly grumbled about how long and tedious the journey to Beaulieu-sur-Mer was going to be, the fact that he hated sea travel, no matter how brief, and that sleeper cars were damned uncomfortable. Eliza was too taken in by her surroundings to pay Henry's rants much attention.

Henry was astonished that Eliza was not green and being sick over the side of the ferry. He had a distant memory of his first sea voyage; There had been an unfortunate incident of him making a mess all over the skirt of his mother's favorite gown. His first voyage had been years ago, before Edward had even been born, but the shame of it was enough to put him off of the sea for life. Eliza didn't even have the decency to appear anxious! There she was, at the front of the ferry, leaning over precariously so that she could get a better view of the sea life.

"Come away from there, Eliza!" She looked over her shoulder, and stuck her tongue out at him. "I am in earnest, damn you!" He ignored the mortified gasps from the other passengers, and crossed over to where Eliza was leaning. "You could fall in, drown, or get diced to bits by the propellers."

Eliza noted that his voice had just a hint of hysteria, and allowed him to assist in stepping down from the railing. "You don't have to act as though I am a child."

"Well, you are certainly acting like one! Leaning over the railing with your petticoats up in the air…"

"They most certainly were not!" She cried. "I only wanted to have a look."

"Well then have a look at a safe distance! I shan't be a widower one day into my marriage."

Eliza raised a gloved hand to stroke his cheek. "Darling, you are far older than I. Naturally I will outlive you, not the other way around."

"You saucy guttersnipe!" Henry grabbed Eliza about the waist, and began to drag her to the railing, despite her shrieking for him to stop. "I shall have to throw you overboard for the insult!"

Eliza wriggled from his grasp, face red, and hat askew. "Cease, or I shall call the authorities and report you for harassing vulnerable young women!" They both burst out laughing, heedless to the curious stares their theatrics were accumulating.

"Newlyweds," one of the other passengers whispered to a companion.

Eliza got a infuriatingly short glimpse of Paris as they were switching rails. Henry had overruled spending their honeymoon in Paris, saying that it was the biggest cliché ever; they would be spending their holiday with millions of other moonstruck couples. It was crowded, besides. It would take hours of standing in line to visit the Louvre, or any other landmark for that matter. "Another time, Eliza."

Henry found the sleeper compartment not as uncomfortable as he thought. Not with Eliza curled up next to him, anyway. The whole day had been marvelous, despite his previous grumblings. He had not taken Eliza's lack of knowledge of the world outside of London into account. It was as if he were experiencing previously mundane things like rails and ferry rides for the first time. It was almost exhilarating! As Henry toyed absentmindedly with one of Eliza's loose curls, he pondered how much he loved the girl. It wasn't the first time the thought had come to him, and likely would not be the last. The real problem was how to convey it to Eliza in a way that she understood, while still retaining his dignity. It was a devilishly tricky phrase to utter, three syllables or no.

Eliza and Henry finally arrived at the cottage, the two of them rumpled and sore from the journey. Eliza was in awe of the charming place, with its tidy trappings and private beach. The first thing she did was remove her shoes and run about the sand.

"At least change into something other than your traveling clothes before you run headlong into the sea!" Henry called out.

Eliza ran back to him, and threw herself into his arms. "It's beautiful! I never imagined how perfect it all was going to be." She kissed him hard, and hurried into the cottage, 'Oohing' and 'Aahing' at every room she passed on the way to the bedroom.

Henry silently thanked the heavens that he would be left alone with Eliza at last. There was no one there to berate him for using too strong of language in front of her, or to spirit her away for silly little plans. There was only going to be the lady who kept up the cottages, and she did not interfere but a few times a day. Glorious solitude.

"Henry, I need your help with all these buttons on the back of my dress," Eliza announced as he entered the bedroom. "There will be no Mrs. Pearce to assist me, so you shall have to be my lady-in-waiting for the whole duration."

He crossed the room to assist her. "Gladly, my pet. Shall I brush your hair and draw you a bath?" Henry leaned in and kissed the back of her neck. "I daresay I've had a look, and the genius architect who designed this place saw fit to make it big enough for two." He grinned wickedly as a crimson blush crept up her neck.

Henry and Eliza passed their days in an idyllic manner. The first few days were spent seeing the sights. Beaulieu-sur-Mer was breathtakingly gorgeous with its old churches and towering views. Eliza, Henry found, was extremely found of the seaside. She took to the water quite naturally, and even managed to coax him to do the same. Their early evenings were spent reading. Henry had seen fit to bring a whole steamer trunk filled with books, and began to teach Eliza foreign languages. It seemed only fitting that she pick up French whilst in France, he had reasoned. Surprisingly, she was open to the concept of cultivating her mind further. Oftentimes she would pore over lesson books until she fell asleep, a volume dangling loosely from her hand, or laying open against her chest. He would always carry her off to bed on nights like that, dutifully helping her don her nightgown before snuggling against her slumbering form.

They had been on holiday for three weeks before Edward's package arrived. It was early in the morning, and Eliza had yet to rise. Henry accepted the parcel from the delivery boy, tipped him, and shut the door in his face.

"Well, let's see what my blackguard brother has sent me." He pulled loose the strings, and tore at the paper.

All the oxygen left the room at once. Ashen-faced, Henry walked into the bedroom where Eliza slept, sat on the chair next to the bed, and watched her, contemplating what to do next.