Eliza Doolittle: The Life and Times of a Good Girl

Chapter Twenty-Three: Counterpoint

Eliza admired the handiwork of the nursery she had commissioned. Everyday, new furniture and toys appeared. Strangely enough, most of the additions came from Eliza's father. Alfred had positively beamed with pride when he found he was to be a grandfather. It was almost disturbing to witness.

"You mean you're happy?" Eliza had asked, eyes wide.

"It's me legacy, Eliza! The Doolittle line will go on, and I 'ope it's a boy."

"The baby will be a Higgins, Dad."

Alfred just shrugged, and gave Eliza a sound kiss on the forehead. "No matter."

Eliza shook her head at the memory. Alfred had sent her a rocking-horse, a bassinet, numerous balls, blocks, and games, and a doll-house just in case she was carrying a girl.

Eliza's health had improved drastically. Now the figure in the mirror was of a woman blossoming in the eve of her seventh month of pregnancy. There were roses in her cheeks, contrasting dramatically with her porcelain complexion. Her ballooning midsection had caused her many hours of vain tears, especially the ugly marks that resembled red vines creeping up her stomach. Jane had given her a cream that reduced the marks considerably, Mrs. Pearce had scolded her for bemoaning the state of her figure, and assured Eliza that all would be as it was before soon after the baby was born… with a few minor alterations, of course.

Mrs. Pearce walked into the nursery, and announced that Mrs. Anson Webster had arrived and was requesting an audience. Eliza frowned, but informed Mrs. Pearce that she would receive the visitor in

the study.

Jane Higgins sat in her parlor knitting, smiling softly at Edward, who read the paper, unaware of his admirer. Jane was so happy. Eliza was finally warming up to the idea of motherhood, and her additions to 27A were positively charming. The only thing missing from Jane's idea of perfection was Henry. Oh well. He would come back to Eliza in a matter of months, and then everyone would be so divinely happy. Jane hummed a jaunty tune.

"You are rather chipper today, my darling," Edward remarked.

"I am, sweetheart. I was just thinking about how wonderful everything will be when Henry returns." Edward gave her a pained look, and went back to his paper.

A knock on the door caught both their attention. It was the butler's day off.

"I will get it, darling!" Jane chirped. She ruffled Edward's hair affectionately on the way to the front door.

Jane smiled at the delivery boy, and accepted the beaten up parcel. She walked to the study for a pen-knife, and dutifully cut the strings. "What a strange looking thing," she remarked. It was sent from Beaulieu-sur-Mer. A letter attached explained, in broken English, that it was found at a honeymoon cottage, and the address of the couple that had temporarily resided there was unknown. Naturally, they decided to mail it to the original sender, in hopes that perhaps, they would be so kind to redeliver it to the original recipients.

"Edward must have sent this to Henry and Eliza," Jane muttered to herself. Curiosity getting the better of her, Jane delved into the contents. An old photograph, and two letters. "Curiouser and curiouser," Jane quoted, before beginning to read the older looking letter.

Eliza sat across from Jillian Webster, smirking at the older woman's astonishment.

"Why, Mrs. Higgins, you are with child!"

Eliza nodded. "Well spotted, Mrs. Webster."

"Henry's?"

"Of course." Eliza bristled.

Jillian covered her mouth with an gloved hand. "Does he know?"

Eliza sighed. "How can he, Mrs. Webster? You know as well as I that we've had no contact in months. Why are you not with him right now, I wonder?"

Jillian shrugged. "The continent was a bore," she recited.

"So he moved on to another amour?"

Jillian sputtered at this. "I beg your pardon?"

Eliza regarded the woman, tilting her head to one side. "Come now. I am well aware of your past with my husband, I naturally assumed you both had taken up again. Don't tell me I am mistaken?"

"You are! I don't know where you heard such filthy rumors, but they are false!"

"I heard them from your own mouth, Mrs. Webster, at the engagement party. You were not aware I was listening."

Jane's hands trembled as she placed Edward's letter to Henry down on the desk. Everything made sense now. Henry's absence, Edward's guilty demeanor. Jane supposed that Eliza was not aware of this little turn of events. Such treachery, and between brothers! Jane straightened her spine, gathered the damning evidence, and headed back to the parlor.

"You were gone for a while, sweeting. Who was at the door?" Edward looked up from his paper, only to dodge a flying picture frame. "I say!"

"You duplicitous monster!" Jane screamed, her pretty features contorted in crimson rage.

Edward jumped to his feet. "Whatever are you speaking of?" He stole a glance to where the frame had landed, and blanched at the sight of the photograph.

"You knew! All this time, you knew! You watched our sister-in-law waste away to nothing, grieving a husband that ran off on her for no reason, and you knew why the entire time!" Jane crossed the room and brought her hand across Edward's cheek with a resounding crack. "Bastard! She could have died!"

Edward tore at his hair in frustration. "What he did to Catherine was insupportable!"

"And what you did to her daughter was inhuman!" Jane spat back. "Didn't you think, for one moment, what repercussions your little revenge plot would have? Your Catherine is dead, and unable to thank you for coming to her aid, although I doubt she would if she could."

Tears sprang to Edward's eyes. "What am I to do, then?"

"That was a long time ago, Mrs. Higgins. The professor and I have not renewed our acquaintance for some time. Certainly not since he married you." Jillian sneered. "Although, there may be something in regards to another 'amour' as you put it. "

Eliza stiffened. "Do tell."

"Only that I hear tell he calls out for 'Catherine' in his sleep. Are you at all acquainted with anyone of that name?"

"How would you know who he calls out for in his sleep?"

Jillian laughed. "Oh, that man will fall asleep anywhere when he is in his cups. I hope the fact that you've married a bit of a drunkard doesn't bother you." Jillian studied her nails. "Although, it shouldn't. I've heard it said that you've grown up around worse, and that you started out in a very old vocation. Perhaps, the oldest one there is."

The insult hit Eliza like one of her father's ringing slaps to the face. Many derogatory things had been levied at Eliza throughout the years, from high and low society alike, but not since the night her father had attempted to sell her wares to a drinking companion had such an implication been used in regards to herself. It was, to Eliza, the most shameful thing to be called. 'Whore' hung between the two women, heavy and ominous. Too low a word to even be uttered aloud.

It was no surprise to Eliza, then, that her temper burst free with reckless abandon. Several servants had to be called to pull the pregnant woman off of Jillian Webster, whose elegant blonde chignon had been ripped loose, with one eye scratched, and the other blackened. She fled from the house without so much as a by-your-leave.

Jane did not know how to answer Edward's question. What was he to do, indeed? What could possibly be a suitable reparation for Eliza? Jane picked up the picture frame, and studied it. Eliza was so content in her own way, now that the shock of Henry's leaving had faded. Would it be right to inform her of this little bit of history? Jane looked at her husband, he was tearful and contrite.

"We must find Henry," Jane announced.

Edward nodded in agreement.

"By 'we', I mean you, of course, and you must leave immediately."

Again, Edward nodded.

"I will find an appropriate moment to explain to Eliza what has happened. Meaning, I will tell her about your scheme, and about her mother's past affiliation with this family. At the very least I will give her the photograph."

Another nod.

"Good. Now, prepare yourself for travel, there is not a moment to lose."

Jane marveled at how easily she had handled Edward. Any other time, he would have taken offense at her domineering attitude, but now, he was all too willing to be shown a way to set things right.

With Edward furiously packing, Jane decided to sneak off to 27A. Something told her that the truth could not wait, and she armed herself thusly with the letters and the photograph. When she arrived, Jane was astonished to find the house somber and dreary. The servants moved about slowly and quietly, as though sleep-walking. Mrs. Pearce approached Jane, her lips pressed into a grim line.

"I am afraid Eliza will not be well enough to receive anybody."

Jane gasped. "Why ever not?"

Mrs. Pearce gently explained the events of the past two hours. Eliza had excited herself terribly when she attacked Jillian Webster, and soon after, experienced crippling pain in her stomach. The doctor had been summoned, and after a while he had managed to calm Eliza's pain. However, the episode had forced the doctor to institute a strict bed rest order. There would be no visitors for at least a few days, to be safe, and once visitors were allowed, no one would be encouraged to say or do anything to incite Eliza's temper.

Jane now knew that such a revelation as the one she came bearing would be impossible to deliver.