Letters to Lissie

by Katy Rose15

After waiting for two years, Ben is finally able to fight in the war for independence, leaving behind a worried and smitten Felicity. As the years go by, they keep in touch through letters, sharing their hopes, dreams, and fears, growing up together though apart. They had always been close. Could a close friendship lead to something deeper?

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

A couple of months passed by. Felicity's seventeenth birthday came and went rather quietly. She and Ben didn't speak much anymore, which disappointed her a little, but she had other things to worry about. For one thing, she had been invited to Lady Templeton's annual midsummer ball, and while most girls would walk on air at an invitation like this, Felicity found it as just another frivolous occasion to have to worry over a dress, her hair, and her manners. Just another occasion to act dumb and docile to impress the higher class. Elizabeth had also been invited, and her reaction was the exact opposite of her friend's. The ball was a month away, and she had already decided how to do her hair and what earrings she was going to wear. One afternoon, Felicity paid her a visit, and the ball was all she could talk about. "And the dress I'm going to wear!" she babbled on. "Oh Felicity, wait until you see it! Tis a lovely shade of blue; blue goes so well with my hair, don't you think? And the earrings are little sapphires. My mother gave them to me as a farewell and wedding present. I could tell that she was sorry to leave me behind, and she really was pleased that I was getting married, God bless her. And speaking of marriage, this will be the first ball I attend with my husband, not just some stuffy escort my father paid! By the way, you do have an escort, don't you?" "Not as of yet," answered Felicity, taking a sip of the tea Elizabeth had made. "My father, most likely."
"Was Nan invited?" Elizabeth asked. Felicity smiled a little. "No, she was not," she answered. "I feel bad for her, the poor dear. She was so envious when I got the invitation. But I suppose it's for older people anyway. This is the first time I've been invited."
"Mine too," said Elizabeth. Then she grinned. "But...if Nan wasn't invited, and it is just you who needs an escort...why not have Ben do it?" Now Felicity laughed. "What?" asked Elizabeth. "He has to plenty of things before."
"Not in years," said Felicity. "Things were different then. And besides, what does Ben escorting me have to do with Nan not being invited?"
"Because," said Elizabeth. "You'd have him all to yourself."
"And why would I want that?" Felicity laughed. "Can you imagine how awkward that would be?" Elizabeth frowned. "Awkward?" she asked. "How so?" Then a sly smile spread across her face. "Ohhh, I know why," she said. "You like him!"
"I do not!" Felicity protested. "I absolutely do not! I'm just saying it would be awkward because he hasn't been acting like his old self, and I don't like it."
"How so?"
"I don't know," she said. "He's just more quiet, colder than he used to be."
"He's just gotten older," said Elizabeth. "But that shouldn't keep you two apart. Ben escorting you makes all the sense in the world. He's home now, he's the perfect age-"
"The perfect age for what?" Felicity asked.
"For you!" said Elizabeth. "The age difference isn't so apparent anymore. He's the perfect age for an eligible beau."
"Slow down!" exclaimed Felicity. "How did we get from escort to beau?"
"Lissie, just think of it!" said Elizabeth. "He's old enough for his own career, old enough to be able to provide for a family-"
"He has to finish his apprenticeship first," Felicity interrupted.
"But after that," Elizabeth continued. "He would be perfect for you!"
"And you get all this from him escorting me to a ball?" asked Felicity. Elizabeth shrugged. "Many people end up with beaus after a ball," she said. "That's what happened to Caleb and me. You two would make a lovely couple!"
"Elizabeth," Felicity laughed. "Ben and I would in no way make a lovely couple. We are too different. Besides, I don't want it, and I know he doesn't."
"I think you do," said Elizabeth with a grin. "I don't," Felicity argued. "And it's not going to happen!"
"Fine," said Elizabeth. "But at least ask him to be your escort. Nothing has to happen."
"I'll ask him," Felicity promised. "And nothing will happen, I assure you that."

A couple of days later, she asked him. It was a warm evening, and she found him sitting under the apple tree writing something. "Hello," she said cheerfully. "Evening," he replied without looking up. She sat next to him and peered over his shoulder. "Who are you writing to?" He leaned his head against the tree and closed his eyes. "Must you know everything?" he asked. "Yes," she answered. He opened his eyes again. "Well, if you must know," he said. "One of my friends from the army, Daniel." She nodded. "He was the one with the sister who laughed when you told her that I wasn't much of a seamstress, wasn't he?" Ben looked up. "How did you remember that?" he asked. Felicity shrugged. "I have a good memory," she said. He cracked a tiny smile. "I barely remembered that," he said. Then he asked, "Did you want something?"
"Actually, I did," she answered. "Do you remember that I was invited to Lady Templeton's midsummer ball?" He nodded. "Well," she continued. "Naturally, I need an escort, and I'm getting tired of Father doing it, so I was wondering-" she paused and took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you would be willing to escort me?" He looked at her and blinked, and for a second she started to regret asking. Then he nodded. "All right," he agreed slowly. "If you want me to." She smiled in relief. "Thank you," she said. "I would have just had Father take me, but tis a bit embarrassing when your escort is your father, and he's not the most fun, and you're here, so I just thought-"
"Felicity, relax," he interrupted. "I'll take you; it's fine."
"You don't mind?"
"Not at all."
"Thank you." She looked over his shoulder again. "That's a long letter," she remarked.
"I haven't seen him since October," he said. "A lot has happened."
"Such as?"
"What I've told you."
"You haven't told me much at all," she said. "You don't talk to me that much at all anymore."
"What's there to talk about?" he asked. "You seem to have a lot to talk about with him," she said coolly.
"We have more in common," he said. "You and I don't."
"We never did in the first place," she said. "Yet we still were good friends." "Things change, I guess," he said simply.

"They didn't have to!" she exclaimed. "You're the one who's been acting so-so-all right, I can't think of a good adverb, but it's not good! You think you're so much older than me and wiser and you're so high and mighty because you fought in a war and-"

"Will you leave me in peace?" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "My God, Felicity, you're driving me crazy!" She frowned and stood up. "Well, you've been driving me crazy too," she said. "I just feel as though I've lost you."
"I'm sitting right next to you."
"That's not what I meant." She spun on her heel and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster. "By the way," called Ben. "It's an adjective, not an adverb!" Felicity clenched her fists in annoyance and anger. Benjamin!

"Miss Felicity?" asked Rose when Felicity stormed into the kitchen to help clean up after supper. "Is everything all right?"
"He makes me so angry!" Felicity exclaimed, beginning to furiously scrub a china plate. "Who?" asked Nan.
"Ben," her sister replied. "He is so-so-ugh, I can't even think of a good word to describe him!"
"What did he do?" asked Mrs. Merriman a bit nervously.
"He's so short and abrupt with me!" Felicity complained. "And when I very gently point this out to him, he gets angry and snaps at me! I can't even remark that he seems to have more to say to his friend in a letter than he does to me!"
"Well, don't take it out on that poor plate," said Rose. "You're about to break it." Felicity looked down, then set the plate on the table. "Lissie," said Mother. "You weren't reading over his shoulder while he was writing to someone, were you?" Felicity reddened. "I was just curious," she said sheepishly. Mrs. Merriman closed her eyes. "Felicity," she scolded. "What have I told you about snooping in other people's business?"

"That it's rude and I should just mind my own," answered her daughter. "But it wasn't as if he was writing anything important, anyway."
"How do you know?" asked Nan. "Besides, important or not, tis none of your business."
"Felicity," sighed her mother. "You are seventeen years old, yet you have the mindset of a seven year old. You need to start acting like the young lady I know you are, which means not getting into other's business and not arguing with them."
"I'm sorry," she muttered.
"Good," said Mrs. Merriman. "Now go help Polly clear the table."

A few days later, Felicity found a better person to vent to. "I just don't understand it," she complained as Elizabeth listened politely. "He's never acted like this before." Elizabeth looked up from her stitching. "It could be because of the war," she suggested. "War often turns people bitter, especially when they've been on the front lines and even wounded."
"But he's fine now," said Felicity. "He's not crippled."
"Not physically," said Elizabeth. "But perhaps he feels crippled. Besides, he has grown up, just as you and I have. Age changes people."
"Still," said Felicity. "He doesn't have to act like a grumpy old man."
"He's not," said Elizabeth. "You just think that because you're the one who was closest to him. I think he just needs to warm up a little. He's seen a lot; it may take him some time to open up." She then smiled a little. "He's like a spring crocus," she said. "He still thinks it's winter, and he's afraid to open back up again for fear of getting hurt. Soon, though, he will realize that it's spring, and he will bloom again, more beautiful than ever." Felicity raised an eyebrow. "Are you daft?" she asked. "Because that is officially the strangest thing you have ever said."
"I'm just making comparisons," said Elizabeth. "Think of him as a flower in your garden. You can't rush him to bloom; he has to on his own time. He will, just be patient." At that moment, Caleb came home. "Darling?" he called. "In the parlor," Elizabeth called back. He appeared in the doorway and smiled. "Hello, love," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Hello, Felicity."
"Good day," Felicity replied. "I think your wife is delirious." Caleb smiled and looked at Elizabeth. "And why is that?"
"She is likening people to flowers." He laughed and kissed his wife again. "That's my girl," he said. Elizabeth smiled at him, then looked back at Felicity. "Lissie, would you like to stay for supper? I still have to make it, but you're more than welcome to stay." "Nay, I'd best be getting home," replied Felicity, gathering her things. "My mother will need my help with our own supper. Thank you, though."
"Another time, then," said Elizabeth. Felicity nodded. "Absolutely," she agreed. "Goodbye."
"Remember," Elizabeth called after her. "Crocus in bloom!"
"I know!" Felicity called back. On her way out, she heard Caleb ask, "A what?" and Elizabeth sigh, "Tis a long story, dear."

Felicity tried to take Elizabeth's metaphor to heart. She gave Ben his space and spent her time helping out at home. One afternoon, Mother had a few friends over for tea, and naturally Felicity and Nan were expected to sit and chat politely. Nan was happy to be included in adult lady discussions, but her sister rather dreaded it. The conversations were too prim and stiff, topics of "general interest", as Miss Manderly used to say, which no one really cared for (though they would never admit it). Really, what was so interesting about the price of lace? Never was there a good gossip, not even from Mrs. Fitchett. Felicity sighed as she pinned up her long curly hair. Frowning, she undid it, then tried again. It still looked a mess. What a nuisance it was! How she wished she could just cut it short; then she wouldn't have to worry about pinning it up and it looking nice. But no, she was a young lady. Young ladies had long hair. She tried once more, and, somewhat satisfied with the outcome, added a pinner cap on top. She sighed again as she looked at herself in the mirror. Another tedious afternoon, full of sitting still, pinching corsets (and she had thought the stays were bad!), and dull conversation. What fun.

"Lissie!" exclaimed Mrs. Merriman when she came downstairs. "Your hair is a mess! Here." She reached over and adjusted Felicity's curls. "There. Now you don't look so much like a lamb."
"Mother," said Felicity. "What does it matter if a few curls are out of place or my hem is uneven? Will it really make that big of a difference?"
"You are a lady, Felicity," said her mother, straightening her daughter's skirt. "You must always look your best, nothing out of place. You don't want other ladies to think you don't know how to dress yourself."
"Why don't boys have to worry about how they look or dress?" Felicity asked. "They just wear a shirt and breeches everyday, and nobody judges them for that."
"Men aren't as catty as women," said Mother. "And if they are, it means they are some stuck-up wealthy man. Men just have it easier than us, I suppose." "That doesn't seem fair," Felicity remarked. Mrs. Merriman smiled sadly. "Of course it's not fair," she said. "We're women." Then there was a knock on the door. "There they are," said Mrs. Merriman. "Call Nan down, will you?"

The afternoon was just what Felicity had expected. The ladies chatted about prices in fabric, the weather, and their daughter's weddings, which was the only remotely interesting subject. "My Katherine's upcoming wedding is all she can talk about!" said Mrs. Tanner. "I told my husband that we should wait to arrange a marriage for her, but he insisted, and she wanted to as well. Gregory is such a gentleman! The two have only met three times, but tis a fine match. She shall be comfortable for the rest of her life, as wealthy as he is." Here Felicity asked, "How do they feel about each other?"
"They get along," replied Mrs. Tanner simply. "Katherine picked out a beautiful green for her wedding gown. And she wants a big feast with rare roast beef and goose and cakes and tarts and everything else you can think of!"
"We only had sons," said Mrs. Wentworth. "I never got the joy of helping my daughter plan her wedding."

"Tis not always a joy," laughed Mrs. Fitchett. "When Christina got married, I had nightmares for months planning it!" Then she looked at Felicity and Nan and smiled. "And when will our lovely Merriman girls be planning one?"
"Not for a while," said Nan. "I'm not allowed to court until I'm fifteen."
"I don't want them to get married until they are at least eighteen," said Mrs. Merriman. "But our Lissie is seventeen, a pretty age to be courted and even engaged."
"Oh yes," agreed Mrs. Tanner. "You and your husband should start looking for eligible gentlemen, Martha. Otherwise they will all be snapped up."
"Actually," said Felicity. "I'd rather pick for myself." Mrs. Wentworth smiled. "Of course, dear," she said. "As long as he's got money." Felicity frowned. "Well," she said. "Money isn't really the main reason why I would marry." Mrs. Tanner frowned. "Whatever do you mean?"
"I think love is more important than money," said Felicity thoughtfully. "I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable." The ladies looked at each other with raised eyebrows, and Felicity knew exactly what they were thinking. "But you would have a higher status," pointed out Mrs. Wentworth. "And all the pretty things your heart desired." "Marriage isn't about love, Felicity," said Mrs. Tanner. "That's only in fairy tales. In reality, you marry for money. Otherwise, you have nothing."
"I don't care," said Felicity fervently. "You would have love. I'd rather be happy in my marriage, whether my husband is a wealthy lord or my father's apprentice." The ladies shared another look. "Miss Merriman," said Mrs. Tanner. "You aim to marry for status and fortune. You don't interact with your husband much, because as a wife your job is to keep house and bear children. That is the life of woman."
"It shouldn't have to be," said Felicity. "I don't believe women should always have to act dumb and docile. We have brains, and we can use them, if the men would let us. A woman should have more of a life than cooking, cleaning, and raising children." Mrs. Wentworth gave Mother a look. "Martha," she started to say. "I think what Felicity means," Mrs. Merriman interrupted. "Is that while a woman's place is in the home, that doesn't mean she doesn't have a brain so that she has to bow down to her husband's every wish and command. Isn't that right, dear?"
"Aye," said Felicity. The ladies looked at each other. "Well," Mrs. Fittchet said finally. "That is certainly an interesting opinion, Miss Felicity. And now, on another subject, can you believe all this rain we've been having?" Everyone murmured in agreement. Felicity glanced at Mrs. Fitchett, who gave her a barely-there wink. Felicity smiled and mouthed, "Thank you."

"Felicity!" Nan scolded a while later. The ladies had left, and now Felicity, Nan, Mrs. Merriman, and Rose were clearing the table. "Why on earth would you say something like that? Especially in front of them?"
"Something like what?" asked Felicity. "'I'd rather marry for love'," Nan mimicked. "'I'd rather be happy and poor than rich and miserable. I think women should be able to do more than sit around looking pretty'."
"Well, wouldn't you?" asked Felicity.
"Of course!" said Nan. "We all would! But we don't say it out loud. Now they think that you can't control your tongue!"
"I was merely stating my opinion," said Felicity. "I shall not be ashamed of that."
"Lissie," sighed Mother. "There is nothing wrong with that. But that temper was starting to come out again, and I don't want you to be judged for not being able to control it. A lady keeps quiet, or at least states her views quietly and with poise." Felicity sighed. "Between having to be stuffed in itchy dresses and worrying about hair and taking tiny steps and speaking softly and not being able to freely talk about our opinions, tis a wonder we can even breathe!" she remarked.
"Oh Lissie," said Nan. "Of course ladies can breathe! Just not overly so." Felicity stared at her sister blankly, then just shook her head.

Too soon, the ball rolled around. Mother splurged and made a new ball gown for Felicity. It was a deep emerald green, which complimented her hair and eyes very nicely. Despite the fact that Felicity usually hated anything that was ladylike, she did appreciate new ball gowns, which were a rare treat. She liked to feel pretty, even if it meant her corset was digging into her sides and restricted her breathing. She also enjoyed dancing; it was much more fun than sitting around and having some dull conversation with Mrs. Tanner's daughter. As she pulled on the cloud of green silk, Nan and Polly sighed. "Oh Lissie," said Nan. "I'm so envious of you!" "Tis a shame you can't come," said Felicity. "But truthfully, I think I will be one of the youngest there. It probably wouldn't be very interesting for you." She got her arms through the sleeves and straightened the skirt. "Oooh, Lissie!" squealed Polly. "You look like a princess!" Mother smiled and started to pin up Felicity's hair. "She will be the loveliest there, I'm sure," she said. "The belle of the ball."
"Mother," said Felicity. "That worked when I was ten. You don't have to say those things anymore."
"I'm just proud of you," said Mrs. Merriman, tucking a comb in to keep her hair up. "And people would have to be mad to not find you pretty." Felicity turned pink with pleasure. Her corset was digging into her sides, her slippers were pinching her toes, but right now she didn't mind. She did feel beautiful. Not "the belle of the ball", but pretty. In a young woman kind of way. Mrs. Merriman adjusted one more curl and stepped back as Felicity pulled on her gloves. She smiled. "There," she said. "You, my pretty one, are set to rights. Now make us proud."
"Don't forget to speak softly," said Nan. "And not to eat too much."
"Or too little," added Mother. "And don't forget to walk with little steps and to keep your eyes averted down."
"Smile and laugh softly," said Nan. "But don't over do it."
"And remember to dance pretty," reminded Polly. "That's why you go to a ball!" Felicity smiled. "I'll do that, Polly," she promised.
"And don't forget," added Mother. Felicity turned. "You are my daughter, and no matter what you say or do, we love you very much and will forever." Felicity smiled again. Mother kissed her cheek, then said, "Now away with you. Ben is waiting downstairs."
"Have a good time!" called Nan.
"Tell me about it when you come home!" said Polly.
"I will!" said Felicity to both of them. "Good night!"

Ben was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. He smiled a little when he saw her. "You look nice," he said.
"You do too," she said. And he did, though he was just in his Sunday best. His hair was combed, and his face was clean-shaven. "The riding chair is already around front," he said. "Are you ready to go?" She nodded. They said goodnight to Mr. and Mrs. Merriman and the children, then left.

Felicity felt nervous as she and Ben entered the huge mansion, and she was grateful to have him by her side. She gripped his elbow tighter as they walked through the great doors. After she saw Lord and Lady Templeton and thanked them for their invitation, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Elizabeth. Abandoning her escort, she hurried over to her. Elizabeth smiled when she saw her. "Don't you look lovely!" she complimented. "That is a beautiful shade of green!"
"Thank you," said Felicity. "You look pretty too." Elizabeth beamed. Her light blue dress, though simple, complimented her eyes nicely. Her blonde hair was twisted up in cool and becoming style, and her face had the youthful glow of a young wife. Then she whispered, "That's not Ben, is it?"
"Aye," said Felicity. "He dresses well when he has to, doesn't he?"
"If I didn't know better," said Elizabeth. "I'd say that he was the son of a governor!" Felicity shrugged. Changing the subject, she asked, "Where is Caleb?" "I think he went to get something to drink," answered Elizabeth. "I worry about him, a little. He's never exactly associated with these kind of people."
"He will be a perfect gentleman, I'm sure," said Felicity. "And if he doesn't, just remember that he has a good heart. That's far better than a wealthy gentleman with no soul."
"And that is why," said Elizabeth. "I married him despite my parents' disapproval." The music started to play, and she said, "Now I better find him and force him to dance with me."
"And I'll sit over there until someone asks me," said Felicity. "In other words, I may be a wallflower all night."
"No you won't," Elizabeth assured her. "Besides, you can always get Ben to dance with you." Felicity laughed. "I think I have a better chance of making it to France," she said.

The evening wore on. Felicity participated in some of the dances, and others she sat out. Most of the time, she was engaged in some dull conversation regarding the weather or something else just as mundane. When everyone sat down to eat, it only got worse. The conversation was mostly regarding the men, and the women were, for the most part, to be "seen and not heard." Felicity tried her hardest to sit still and smile politely, but it was hard. She stifled a yawn as she picked at her food. "Eat something," hissed Elizabeth next to her. "You don't want people to think you don't like the food!" And when Felicity dug into the roast beef, Elizabeth whispered, "Slow down! You don't want people to think you a pig!" And then there was her conversation. When one of the ladies asked her something and she replied with a simple "yes", Elizabeth said, "Elaborate! You don't want them to think you don't know how to converse!" And when one of the men complained that his wife was always trying to put in her "worthless two cents" and Felicity quietly pointed out that a woman had every right to her opinion as a man, Elizabeth scolded, "Hold your tongue! You don't want them to think that you don't know your place!" So Felicity said not another word for the rest of the meal.

After supper, more dancing commenced. As a slower waltz started to play, Felicity opted to sit out and watch the couples whirl across the dance floor. As she watched Elizabeth and Caleb, she overheard the conversation of two older women. "Such a shame," said one of them. "She could have had a lovely gentleman, and look what she got stuck with."
"The older Cole girl most definitely made the smarter match," said the other. "And so could the younger one, had she used her brain instead of her emotions. Now look what she's got to show for it; the wife of a simple carpenter. I wonder how they even were invited tonight!" Felicity felt her face grow hot as she realized that the woman they were talking about was Elizabeth. "Indeed," agreed the first. "This is for the wealthy, not the lower class."
"Elizabeth is hardly lower class!" Felicity wanted to yell, but she knew to keep her mouth shut. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw the second glance her way. "And then there's Miss Merriman," she heard her say. "Tis a shame she has no one to dance with." "Indeed," agreed the first. "She is a pretty girl; she shouldn't be a wallflower."
"She speaks her mind too much," said the second, and Felicity felt her cheeks grow even hotter. "The Merrimans have tried their best to turn her into a lady, but it just didn't work. I hate to think of her as the disappointment child. Her sister Miss Nancy is coming along quite well, from what I can see." Now Felicity felt as though she had been slapped. "Perhaps there is hope for her yet," said the first. "If Mr. Merriman plays his cards right, I'll bet he can get her married off quickly to some wealthy gentleman and have to worry about one less child."
"As long as she doesn't get it into her mind to fall in love with an indentured servant and run away with him," laughed the second. "Honestly, I think she is hanging on by a thread to society. If you are not a lady, you are nothing. And speaking of which, did you see Miss Whitby's gown? Tis atrocious!"
"That pink!" said the first. "It makes her cheeks look like the rump of a newborn babe!"
"And her hair," added the second. "A desperate attempt to copy a wig! Look at those fake curls toppling over!"
"Tis a shame," sighed the first. "Does no one know how to dress, act, or marry anymore?"
"I hear that she had an affair behind the Raleigh with Mr. Asher's apprentice last month," said the second. "Let us hope that she does not have a child out of wedlock!"
"By the way," said the second. "Did you hear about Miss Robinson?" And they continued to gossip about some other poor soul. Felicity felt beyond hurt. How dare they say such things about her? And Elizabeth? And the other unfortunate ladies? She was tired of the gossip. The cattiness. The scorn of men just for being a woman. The sitting still. The rules. The uncomfortable undergarments. The judging. In short, she was tired of being a woman. She looked around, and seeing that no one was paying attention to her, ducked out onto the balcony.

The summer night air felt refreshing. She took the comb and pins out of her hair and shook it free. That felt better. Through her gown, she managed to loosen up her corset. That also felt better. She peeled off her gloves, then sighed and leaned against the French door. She looked out into the endless night. The crickets chirped, and every now and then a firefly would emit its natural lamp, only for a second, then disappear back into the blackness. It was a serene setting, and it made Felicity a bit calmer. No people to bother her out here. She closed her eyes. She thought of the men who laughed at women for having an opinion. She thought of the women who judged one another if one hair was out of place. She thought of all the rules that had to be followed. Don't eat too much, but don't eat too little. Don't talk too much, but don't talk too little. Don't laugh too loudly. Speak softly. Take tiny steps. And then the never ending work. The cooking. The cleaning. The sewing. The caring for children. And a woman still had to put on a smile and never act cross when her husband came home. She had to bow down to his every wish and command. Break any of those rules, and you were shunned. The joys of being a lady. "They make me sick," she said to herself. "Who does?" asked a voice behind her. Startled, she whirled around, and found of all people..."Ben?" she asked with a frown. "What are you doing out here?"
"I saw you leave," he explained. "You looked a little pale. Is everything all right?"
"Fine," she lied. "I just needed some fresh air." He looked skeptical. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You seem a bit tense."
"I'm fine!" she snapped. "Tis none of your business, anyway!" He was quiet, then said, "You're right, tis none of my business."
"Exactly," she said. "I'm glad you realize that."
"But," he continued. She winced. Did there always have to be a "but"?
"But," he repeated. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, you will go home and be angry for the rest of the evening, and then you'll keep it bottled up inside of you for weeks, then William or Polly will do something that annoys you slightly, and then you will lash out at them to the point where they are in tears because you have all these bottled up emotions that are finally flooding out. Then you'll become a mad woman who locks herself in her room for eternity. Then I will feel guilty and eventually confess that I knew something was wrong from the beginning but didn't try to worm it out of you. Then your parents will be angry that I knew something and didn't say anything, and they will throw me out of the house. Then I will be some poor helpless beggar on the streets, trying desperately just to get some bread to eat. All because of you." He looked at her. "I really don't want that to happen," he sighed. "But if you're not going to tell me, then I guess that's the way it must be."
"Oh, be serious!" she said. "And how does my anger turn into being all about you?" "So something is wrong!" he said.
"What?" she asked hastily. "No it's not!" "You just said you were angry."
"No, I meant- I just-" she sighed. "Very well. Do you really want to know what's wrong?"
"If it means I can avoid living in the streets," he answered. "Then yes, by all means." She took a deep breath. "Fine," she said. "This is the matter..."

In about five minutes, she poured out everything. The ladies at tea. The ladies inside who were criticizing her as well as other innocent women. The men who looked down at women like they were a mistake. The rules. The uncomfortable clothes. The cattiness. The judging. The endless chores just to make a man happy. Ben listened patiently through it all. "I hate being a lady!" she finally said. "Why can't I be a boy? Like you?"
"I don't think you would want to be a boy," said Ben. "Especially one like me." "Boys don't have as many rules to follow," she said. "They're free to do what they want without being judged for it." He smiled a little bit. "Oh, Felicity," he said. "You know nothing about men. In the world of men, money is everything. If you don't have money, you're nothing. Tis as simple as that." "At least you're not judged if one hair is out of place," she said. "Or if your conversation is right or not. You're free to speak your mind without being called out for it." She then sighed. "Ladies never get to do anything fun. We must sit perfectly and stitch until our fingers are red, keep our voices low, and try to outdress one another. Why can't we be able to swim and take up as much space as we want and swear and fence and spit? Why can't we do the things a man can do?"
"Gentlemen can't," he pointed out.
"Then why can't I be like you?" she asked. "You're free to do whatever you want without a care in the world."
"I wouldn't go that far," he said. "I'm not exactly free as a bird, you know."
"You have more freedom than I do," she said. "Just because you were lucky enough to be born a boy." She sighed again. "If I had a penny for every time I wanted to spit in the eye of a person who wronged me, I'd be a rich woman." Ben was quiet, then grabbed her wrist. "Come on," he said, taking her closer to the balcony. She frowned. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I wouldn't recommend doing this in someone's face," he said. "But you, Miss Merriman, are going to learn to spit good and proper." Felicity's eyes widened. "Ben, no!" she gasped. "I didn't mean it!" He paid her no attention. "Ben, no!" she hissed. "Please! Are you out of your mind?"
"Come on!" he said. "If you hate being a lady so much." He let go of her wrist. "Now watch." He leaned back and made a snorting sound from way back in his throat, then spit far out into the night. Felicity wrinkled her nose. "That," she said. "Is disgusting, Ben Davidson!" He grinned, which was something she had not seen in ages. "I know," he said. "Now you try."
"Really?" she groaned. He nodded. She glanced at him, then shyly spit a little over the edge. He frowned. "That was pathetic," he said. "Now look. It comes from your throat. Breathe in, nice and deep." He demonstrated, and she tried to copy him. "Then try to gather up all of your saliva towards the back of your throat," he said. She nodded, and made the same snorting sound as he did. "Once you've got all of it back there," he said. "Then let it go. Like this." And he spit again. She nodded and copied, this time spitting a bit farther. "Not bad," he said. "I think you can go farther, though. Just don't think and let it out. You really need to breathe in and-" Felicity saw Elizabeth come out and frown a little. "Ben," she murmured, tapping his arm. "And gather it all back there," he went on, demonstrating again. "Then just-" "Ben!" she hissed, grabbing his arm. He turned and saw Elizabeth, then his eyes widened a little and he quickly swallowed. "What's going on out here?" Elizabeth asked.
"Nothing," Felicity said quickly. "I-um-just needed some fresh air, and-uh"
"I came out to keep her company," said Ben. Felicity glanced at him, then touched her chin. He got the message and quickly wiped the spit off of his. "I see," said Elizabeth skeptically. "Well, people are starting to leave, just so you know."
"Then I suppose we should too," said Felicity. "I'll be there in a moment, Elizabeth." She nodded and left. Felicity turned back to Ben. "You know," he said. "I'm sure the Templetons have some sort of swords lying around, if you wanted to learn to fence." Felicity laughed. "That's all right," she said. "Besides, tis getting late. My parents will start to worry if we're not home soon." He nodded and offered his hand. "Shall we, Miss Merriman?" he asked. She grinned and accepted it. "We shall, Mr. Davidson." And, her hand on his elbow, the two departed back into the stuffy ballroom.