A Hole in the River
Chapter Eleven:
Greeks Bearing Gifts
Author's note: I have a beta! Special thanks to Jacqueline Viana, for helping work over the rough edges with me!
Eliza awoke one morning, with the scent of roses clinging to the morning air. Frowning, she sat up, and took note of the chambermaid, who was bearing quite an impressive arrangement of lavender and pink roses.
"Did Mrs. Higgins order those for the room?" Eliza asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Begging your pardon, Miss, but no. These are from Mr. Eynsford-Hill."
Eliza blushed deeply. "They are beautiful."
The chambermaid smiled slyly and nodded. "Very romantic, if you don't mind me saying so. Would you like them on your nightstand?"
Eliza shook her head. "No, I would never be able to sleep with that strong of a scent so near." She gestured towards an escritoire. I think that they would be lovely over there. That way I will have inspiration when I respond to the letter that is no doubt attached."
Dutifully, the maid produced the letter. The letters were alarmingly regular, for someone who slept in the same house, and was in her presence nearly every hour of every day, save the bedtime hours. Earnest letters filled with a sort of juvenile passion that flattered and irritated Eliza at the same time. It was strange to her, that a botched social appearance at Ascot had so thorougly entranced a complete stranger.
"What a sweet boy he is," Eliza remarked, folding up the letter and setting it on her nightstand. The truth was, Eliza did not care for roses. The scent evoked scenes from her past in Lisson Grove. Gaudily made up women that seemed to be an endless fixture in the home she shared with her father often employed liberal amounts of the same cheap, cloying rose scented perfume to cover the underlying stench of sweat, toil, and dust. It was not a pleasant scent for Eliza, who on the same hand, admired the beauty of the bloom.
Still, Eliza did not want to appear ungrateful. She managed to find a gown that matched the delicate shade of the pink roses, selected a pair of amethyst earrings that Pickering had purchased for her, along with a matching necklace. She wondered if Mr. Eynsford-Hill would notice the subtle tribute to his thoughtful gift. She sighed, and wondered what she was encouraging him for, as she had yet to develop the tender feelings that one was supposed to have for such an ardent suitor.
With a shrug, she headed down to breakfast, where the gentlemen and Mrs. Higgins awaited. Mrs. Eynsford-Hill apparently required an extensive amount of time for morning ablutions. After the men stood to greet her, as was custom, there seemed to a bit of a silent battle as to who would be the one to pull out Eliza's chair for her. It was puzzling to Eliza, as Professor Higgins had never been one for that sort of formality. Sometimes, she swore he begrudged even the mere act of standing when she, or any lady would enter a room... and here he was, silently cowing Mr. Eynsford-Hill so that he could assist her. Had the world gone completely mad?
Once the chivalry ordeal had been resolved, Eliza found herself seated between an oblivious Mr. Eynsford-Hill, and a glowering Professor Higgins.
"Pray, Professor, have I done something wrong?" Eliza inquired, after his scowling scrutiny became too much.
"Your gown matches the roses that were brought up to your room this morning. I saw that Welsh fool of a chambermaid carrying them, acting as though she were bringing up a bucket of diamonds."
Freddy's interest was piqued at the mention of the roses. He glanced up and down at Eliza's ensemble and then chuckled. "Oh, how awfully clever!"
"Rather encouraging, I think," Henry grumbled.
"Very sweet, my dear," Mrs. Higgins complimented.
"She doesn't even like roses," Henry retorted.
Freddy paled at this. "You do not?"
Eliza blushed, and was mercifully saved by the entrance of Mrs. Eynsford-Hill. "Good morning, all!" She beamed at Eliza. "How lovely you look today, my child. So fresh and pretty."
"Thank you."
"You are a trifle pale, however. Perhaps a stroll with good company would be just the thing." Eulalie looked over to her son, pointedly, and he coughed suddenly.
"Would you care to go for a walk about the grounds with me, Miss Doolittle?"
"I should be delighted."
"Seems a rather stressful endeavour to me," Henry remarked.
"I should be delighted, Mr. Eynsford-Hill." Eliza repeated, throwing Professor Higgins a quizzical look. His behaviour grew more strange by the day. It was as if Mr. Eynsford-Hill's regard for Eliza was a complete affront to him, almost as though it caused him great jealousy, and yet he seemed to be incapable of doing anything more drastic then shooting caustic remarks at the boy, and derailing any plan for the pair to be alone.
A small part of Eliza wasn't exactly sure that a declaration from Professor Higgins wouldn't be welcome. It was the same part of her that felt completely at ease in his company, and was ready to forgive him that row after the ball... if only he would endevour to apologize. An apology and a declaration of love, two things that would never come from Professor Higgins, and two things that almost always looked silly, when Eliza tried to imagine him attempting either.
"It is so refreshing to see two young people in the midst of courtship, I say!" Colonel Pickering declared to Mrs. Eynsford-Hill and Mrs. Higgins. Both ladies nodded emphatically, although the sound that Mrs. Higgins made could be described as a sad sigh.
Later, Eliza and Mr. Eynsford-Hill strolled, a respectable distance apart, through Mrs. Higgins' beautiful gardens.
"Miss Doolittle?"
"Yes, Mr. Eynsford-Hill?"
"I would like very much for you to call me Freddy."
"Oh? Very well. Yes, Freddy?"
He grinned. "No, that was what I wanted to say, Miss Doolittle."
"I suppose you may call me Eliza."
Freddy stopped and turned to her, eyes shining. "May I? Oh, my darling!" Suddenly, he grabbed her gloved hands, and was once again kissing them. Eliza pulled them away.
"Mr.-... Freddy, please!"
"Oh! Forgive me, Eliza, I forgot myself for a moment."
"Yes, you did."
They continued their stroll, even though neither paid any attention to the foliage around them. Eliza's whole body was tense, and her gaze was fixed stonily ahead at nothing in particular. Freddy could not tear his eyes from her face, and his own was burning with humiliation.
"You are not angry with me, Eliza?"
Eliza sighed. "You mustn't grab at me so, Freddy, it isn't decent." She resisted the urge to scream 'I'm a good girl, I am!', but only just.
"I just thought you would be open to certain liberties, especially given your permission to allow me to use your given name."
"Well, you were very wrong. I think I should like to go back now." Eliza disliked the assumption Freddy had confessed to making, and a part of her wondered if what he really meant was that he assumed she would be open to certain liberties due to her rough background -thoughts were surely just overly cynical.
Henry watched the pair return from their walk, from a window in his mother's study. Eliza did not look happy, and was quite a few paces ahead of a contrite Freddy. A clear sunrise in spring couldn't have been a more welcome sight to Henry, then the one he was witnessing at the moment.
To Henry's surprise, Eliza came straight to the study, as though knowing he would be there. "I should like a lesson, please," she requested tersely.
"Pardon?"
"Quiz me on titles, make me say the alphabet backwards with a mouth full of marbles, anything!"
"Rough sailing in paradise?" Eliza shot Henry a look of pure, murderous venom, and he promptly decided that it was unwise to tease her so.
"A lesson, if you please; my audience with the ambassador's wife draws near."
Henry smiled. In the drama surrounding the past week, he had nearly forgotten the real purpose of their stay. There had not been alot of time for lessons, in between Eliza's memory returning, and that fool Freddy's dogged courtship of her.
"Of course, Eliza."
The lesson lasted clear until tea was called, which astonished Henry. Usually the Eynsford-Hill boy remained at Eliza's side the whole of the day, a fact that frustrated Henry to no end. On their way to tea, Henry realized that he had neglected to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue many times since they had arrived in the country.
"Eliza, I've been thinking about the night of the ball."
Eliza narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Indeed?"
"Yes. I feel the aftermath may have been badly done on my part."
"Yes?"
Henry cleared his throat, and his next words were barely coherent.
"Pardon?"
"I said 'Well done'... at the ball, I mean. You were superb."
Eliza gasped, and stopped so that she could stare at him. Henry thought for a moment that she would faint again, and was dismayed to find that it was even worse; she began to cry.
"Please don't do that, Eliza." Henry's pleas went unnoticed, and she started sobbing in earnest. Cursing softly, he pulled Eliza into his arms, and held her, hoping that the gesture wouldn't completely offend her good girl sensibilities. It did not. He was bewildered to find himself with the urge to stroke her hair. Would it be smooth to the touch, as it appeared, or frizzy and coarse, as was the way with most curly haired women. That would not do, so he settled for awkwardly patting her on the back.
"I'm sorry... I j-just didn't expect-"
"And don't think that this isn't positively killing my pride to do so." He pulled away and handed her his handkerchief.
"Of course." She smiled at Henry through her tears, which he found oddly compelling.
Henry nodded. "Well, that's that, then." He offered Eliza his arm and she took it. Henry couldn't contain his smug grin, at having to force Freddy bear witness to Eliza arriving for afternoon tea on his arm.
The boy smiled weakly at Eliza, and no one noticed the teacup trembling almost imperceptibly in his hands, nor the burning in his eyes.
The next morning Eliza awoke to find no roses or letters from Freddy, but the maid did bring up a small arrangement of wildflowers, bound together with a white silk ribbon. Tied to one end up the ribbon, was a ring. Eliza eyes widened when she recognized it as the ring from Brighton.