London, UK, 1880s

"Tabitha, must I really attend?"  Elspeth would never admit to it, but she whined.  "Another of those boring dinner parties, and worse, that dreadful Cecily Addams and her circle of cronies!"  She collapsed theatrically on the couch. 

Tabitha Holden sighed.  Taking in her brother's daughter after his death had been an easy choice, but actually raising the girl alone was an altogether different--and difficult--story.  "Yes, dear, you must go. Lady Catherine doesn't extend an invitation to just everyone, and she likes you. You wouldn't want to lose her friendship, would you?"

To be honest?  "No, I wouldn't.  Catherine is a darling woman, and I care about her a great deal."

That was the answer Tabitha had been expecting.  "So?"

Elspeth sighed.  "So I suppose I shall go, Cecily Addams be damned."  

"Language!" Tabitha scolded, but she was smiling at her niece.  "Language, young lady!" Her smile widened when Elspeth made a face at her.  "What would Mr. Pratt think if he heard that language!"  

"William?"  Elspeth's expression shifted, excitement filling her voice.  "Catherine relented and invited William?"

Tabitha nodded.  "She did indeed. His mother Anne has been feeling poorly of late, but she insists that William resume his social activities."  Poor thing; he was far too attached to his mother's apron strings for Tabitha's liking, but she knew Elspeth had a softness for the lad.  She was certain that's where Elspeth's dislike of Cecily Addams had sprung from, the girl's cruel and careless mocking of William. "I heard from Anne herself that she had personally implored William to attend and he agreed."

Elspeth rose from her couch, a new brightness in her step.  "I must see to things at once!" She rang the bell until nearly every servant in the house had tumbled forth to answer the ringing.  "Therese, lay out my green velvet dress, and make sure that it's brushed to gleaming. Henrietta, my emerald necklace and ear bobs. I want to see my reflection in them.  Davis, have the house boys fill my tub, I must bathe immediately. And Tabitha, may I borrow Susanna to do my hair when I'm done?"

-----

William Pratt sat on the short stool beside his mother's chair.  He was clean and already dressed, glasses slightly askew and his hair a wild mop.  His valet Charles was trying to tame it, and finally Anne took the brush and smoothed her son's wild curls herself.  

"Mother, it isn't too late.  I can send Charles or Ambrose with my regrets to the Lady Catherine, and say that you are not well and still need my tending."  William's hand held his mother's gently. "I don't have to go."

"Of course you must."  Anne patted her son's hand gently.  "My dear boy. You must look to living your own life," she chastised softly.  "You can't spend your whole life waiting on my every whim. Besides." She teased him then, a twinkle in her eye.  "I want to see my grandchildren before I die."

William blushed, and brushed that comment away.  "But I love you, Mother," he protested. "And you've been so very ill.  I shouldn't be leaving your side."

"Go," Anne responded.  "I insist upon it. You've taken excellent care of me, but now it's time to for you to take care of yourself."

The Pratt family coachman, Ambrose, cleared his throat at the door.  "Master William? The coach is ready when you are."  

"Go," Anne ordered a final time.  

William sighed, and kissed his mother on the forehead.  "I'll be back soon, Mother."

"Try to have a good evening, my son."

-----

Elspeth was one of the first arrivals for Catherine's dinner.  As a result, she was able to bribe the servants to change the seating arrangements and move William's seat beside hers.  

Lady Catherine Morrow was a motherly sort of widow, with grown and married children of her own.  However, none of them remained in London, and so she'd chosen to aid the young people of her acquaintance.  Elspeth Holden was one of her many favorites, and Catherine was well aware of the young girl's affection for Mr. William Pratt.  

She watched with amusement as the girl changed the seating.  It would harm no one for the change to happen, and so she allowed it.  Perhaps it might even do the boy some good, wash some of the milk out of his veins being exposed to Elspeth's kindness.  "Elspeth!" she called. "Come and take a turn with me, help me make certain everything is in order."

Elspeth came over, sliding her arm through Catherine's.  She had never wanted for motherly affection from Tabitha, yet Catherine's friendship made Elspeth feel all the more like she was in the presence of family.  "Of course everything is in order," she said with a smile. "You always have everything prepared well ahead of time."

Of course she did.  That was one benefit of having had children of your own; you learned to plan things ahead.  "I hear from Tabitha that there was a bit of persuasion required to have you here tonight?" Catherine teased her affectionately; of all the young girls and young gentlemen she afforded her friendship to, Elspeth was the one who most reminded Catherine of herself.  

Elspeth huffed.  "I am going to have to have words with her," she mumbled, blushing.  "But yes, that is true."  

Catherine laughed aloud at the grumble, hiding the outburst behind the fan hanging from her wrist.  "Was it the menu or the guest list?" She had a shrewd idea of the answer.  

"Guest list."  Whereas another young woman might've held her tongue or offered a polite lie, Elspeth did neither.  She'd long ago found out that Catherine appreciated honesty, even if spoken tactlessly.  

"Hmm."  Catherine stirred the breeze with her fan, and then let it fall closed again.  "May I guess?" At Elspeth's nod, she did precisely that. "Miss Addams?"

Elspeth nodded again.  "She's quite a vicious piece of work, that one," she said under her breath, keeping her words low and for Catherine's ears only as they moved about the milling servants.  "Heart cold as any stone and tongue sharper than a pirate's cutlass."  

Catherine stifled a giggle at the look of obvious distaste on Elspeth's face.  "Please, my dear, do not hold back. Tell me what you really think."

The disdain turned into sheepishness.  "Apologies, Catherine. My tongue--"

"Speaks the truth baldly, and I would have it no other way but so.  However," she chided, continuing their walk around the large hall. "There are many in our world today who do not appreciate having the truth so plainly spoken.  It makes pretense and denial difficult, and our entire society seems built on both. Choose your friends well, love wisely, and you will never find it necessary to hold your tongue.  Until then, however, a bit of caution would not be amiss."  

Elspeth hugged the other woman around the waist.  "I shall do my best to curb my tongue and refrain from scandalizing anyone with my outspoken way," she promised.  And then she made a face. "Does that mean I must be nice to Cecily?"

"Unfailingly polite, at the least, and mask your dislike behind such gentility that she will not see your dislike for her," Catherine counseled.  "Those of her ilk so rarely see past the surface in others because they care not to see beyond it in themselves."

Elspeth pondered.  "Pretend convincingly because she's more shallow than your goldfish pond?"

Catherine hid a very unbecoming laugh behind her fan.  "Precisely."

-----

William arrived at the same time as several other aristocrats, and was able to mask his arrival in the flurry of theirs.  He greeted Catherine warmly, then made his way into the library to await the call of dinner. Once inside the book-lined sanctuary, he withdrew the parchment he'd been working on in the carriage, and seated himself at the small table by the fireplace.  

Sweetness drips 

From your lips

Like honey into tea

If it is not me?

Eyes like precious jewels

"Oh, bollocks," he muttered to himself.  "Can't find a bloody rhyme for jewel."

"Fuel, perhaps?"

William nearly started out of his seat, his eyes wide behind his glasses.  "I-i-i-i-I didn't realize anyone else was in here," he stammered. "Do forgive me, Miss."  His hands reflexively crumpled the parchment in his hands.  

"I didn't mean to startle you, Mr. Pratt," Elspeth said kindly, giving him a curtsey.  "Catherine has sent word for everyone to come to the hall for dinner. It would be my pleasure to escort you."

Hurriedly, William shoved the parchment back into his coat pocket and straightened his tie.  "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry."

Elspeth held out her elbow, and waited for William to take it.  "There's nothing for you to be sorry for," she said with a smile, and walked with him back into the main hall.  

Catherine was standing at the head of the table.  "Welcome, my friends! Please, take note of the seating cards, I've been devious and rearranged your usual seats, just to make things a bit exciting!  And warmest regards to Mr. William Pratt, who has been too long absent from our table."

There was a smattering of lukewarm applause as everyone milled around the table, jostling one another slightly as they found their places.  Elspeth did not let go of William's arm. "Come, I looked over the seating earlier, and you're beside me tonight." She pushed through the moving crowd, politely asking "excuse me" and "pardon me" and "Could you budge a bit to the side, please, that's my seat," until they were standing in front of the place settings with their names on the small cards.  "There we are."

William followed meekly along behind Elspeth.  He knew her, of course; Elspeth Holden was a fixture at Catherine's dinner parties and the young lady had often shown an interest in William's poetry.  She was a beautiful enough woman, if one cared to think about it, and her personality was quite strong, enough to slightly unnerve him. "Thank you, Miss Holden."  

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Pratt."  She stood beside her chair for a quick moment, dropping her eyes to it briefly before looking back up at William.  

"Oh, yes!"  William moved to pull the chair out for Elspeth, and then pushed it back up to the table once she was seated.  He seated himself next, and his eyes searched out Cecily, as always.  

She was seated only a few seats down, nearer the far end of the table, yet still close enough he could see her, possibly converse with her.  Several of her friends were still standing around, quickly finishing their conversations before making their way to the table.  

Her shrill laughter sounded in the hall, and Elspeth winced.  It was like a harpy's screech, piercing and uncomfortable to listen to, especially given the vituperative nature of her conversation.  

"… and did you notice the poor thing's dress?  Patched at the hem and trying to cover it up with fur trimming?  How utterly pathetic. Corinne will never be more than a common girl, and she should stop trying to rise above her station."  Cecily kissed the cheek of the two women she had been gossiping with, and they quickly moved to take their seats.  

Aperitifs were served first, then small appetizers of fruit and cheese before the main course of quail and vegetables.  The sound of knives and forks mixed easily with idle conversation, and William was content to let it all flow around him.  He was somewhat shy, and had little in common with the people at the table with him.  

"I noticed you had a parchment in your hands earlier," Elspeth said quietly as she carved her portion of quail.  "Are you perhaps working on a new piece?"

"Hm?"  William was quite unused to having anyone besides his mother show sincere interest in his work.  "Oh, yes. It's barely begun, really, but I have high hopes for it."

"Perhaps you will consent to share it with me after dinner tonight?" she asked eagerly.  "We shall all retire to the library and great hall, and no one will mind if we take a quick turn together."

"I shall consider it, Miss Holden."  William was taken slightly aback; not just at the woman's forwardness, which did surprise him, but at the thought that someone was actively interested in what he was doing.  To deflect the attention back off himself, he asked a question of his own.  "What activities have been filling your days of late?"

Elspeth smiled at that.  "I have been spending a good deal of time with Catherine," she admitted.  "She introduced me to Lady Charlotte Munroe, who spends a great deal of her time with the less fortunate.  Lady Munroe and I spent several days together this week, in fact, packing baskets of food and delivering them to several sick houses."

William was impressed in spite of himself.  He knew that Cecily would never dirty her hands with compassion for others beneath her.  "That was very kind of you both," he answered.  

Elspeth nodded.  "Many of those in the sick houses are children," she confided.  "They are not truly sick, but their parents have been killed or have gone missing in the recent months.  No one seems to know who or what is causing the disappearances, and no one seems to know what to do with the children that are left behind.  Lady Munroe believes they will surely be sent to the workhouses or poorhouses, but that thought saddens me."

William frowned in sympathy, but he had no thought or solution to offer.  In truth, he had not been paying attention to much outside the walls of his mother's home.  "I fear that will surely be the case, as that is what is usually done. Orphanages can only do so much with what little money they have."

"Those poor children," Elspeth said, looking down in her lap.  "I feel badly for them, and so I help Lady Munroe help them. I hope that once I am married, my husband will allow me to continue the work Lady Munroe has helped me begin."

"Any man that you marry would be an idiot to attempt to stand in your way, especially when you are doing such good deeds," William said sweepingly.  "I feel pity, in fact, for the man unwise enough to stand in your way."

Elspeth's frown turned to a grin at that.  "You flatter me, Mr. Pratt."

"I only speak the truth, Miss Holden," William protested.  

"Please, call me Elspeth," she said after a moment.  "If we are to be friends, and we are because I wish it, then you shall have to learn to call me Elspeth," she declared.  

"Then I must insist that you return the kindness and call me William," he answered.  "And I have decided that it would be my pleasure to share my work with you this evening, if it still pleases you."  He was a little blindsided by the sudden declaration that they were to be friends, but he went along with it because he didn't wish to derail the dinner.

"It would please me very much, William."  Elspeth turned back to her dinner with a smile, pleased with the sudden rapport that had appeared between them.

Dessert had been a delicious brandied truffle cake, and as the dessert had been finished, the young men and women had broken off into their usual groups, heading for the library.  During dinner, Catherine's servants had set up a small table with a deck of cards for anyone wanting a game of whist or bridge, a candle sat on a table alongside a screen for the ladies wanting to sketch silhouettes, along with a full array of needlework supplies.  Brandy and cigars were laid out for the gentlemen, and a maidservant circulated through the large library and great hall, making sure the after-dinner wineglasses were always full.  

William had finished his dessert quickly, and had lingered over his wine to listen to the dying conversations around the table.  Catherine had quickly shooed the last stragglers away from the table and towards the entertainments of the evening, and to his surprise, William found himself offering his arm to Elspeth without needing to be prompted.  "Miss--Elspeth, if you'd like?"

Elspeth smiled at the shyly spoken offer.  "It would be my pleasure." She slipped her arm through William's.  "Lady Catherine, it was an honor."

Catherine gave Elspeth a pleased grin.  "Nonsense, Elspeth. I'll be along in a short while.  Do be good to our William." She turned her grin to William.  "It was a pleasure seeing you again at our gathering, William.  I hope we can count on your regular return?"

"It will depend on Mother's health," he said honestly.  "But yes, I will try to come as I can."

Elspeth just gave a sort of melting sigh at that, and her smile widened.  "That's incredibly caring and kind of you, William," she said after a moment.  "Taking such good care of your mother like that."

"Well, I have no siblings, and so I gladly take the responsibility of seeing to her," William said firmly.  He began walking aimlessly with Elspeth towards the great hall, and hesitated when he saw others congregating in the hall.  

Elspeth saw the hesitation, saw Cecily sitting at the harpsichord in Catherine's reception room, and sighed.  "If there is going to be a performance, perhaps we should walk elsewhere," she said after a second.  

"Oh, no," William said quickly.  "I would very much like to hear Cecily play."  

Elspeth barely refrained from rolling her eyes, but remembered Catherine's words.  "Very well, but I shall not let you forget you promised to share," she reassured him with a grin, and let herself be led to one of the settees in the room.  

William settled himself on the settee beside Elspeth, accepting a glass of brandy from the servant circulating in the room.  Nearly everyone else had gathered, and Cecily began to play.  

Elspeth found herself focusing more on the wall tapestries and the curl of cigar smoke from one of the other aristocrats in the room than in the music or the performer.  It was a decent performance, no doubt about that, but not particularly outstanding or artful. Her playing lacked a personalized flair, and she sounded like a gramophone recording of someone else's playing.  

In the wisps of cigar smoke Elspeth imagined she saw a pirate ship attacking a passenger ship, cannon blasting and flags flapping in a high wind.  She could see the drifting tatters of a cutlass-shredded sail in the tendrils of gray smoke lifting higher and higher, but she was broken from her imagination by the sustained applause for Cecily as she rose from the bench after two songs.  

She added her applause to the crowd's, and she couldn't help but notice that William was leaning enthusiastically forward, applauding far more excitedly than the performance merited.  

Cecily made the rounds, accepting her accolades, pausing to shake Elspeth's hand and give her an insincere air kiss.  She completely passed by William, though he had moved even closer to gain her attention, and it made Elspeth grit her teeth.  "Come, William," she said softly, putting her arm back through his. "Let's take our turn now," she encouraged.  

"Hm?"  William was a bit distracted.  "Oh, yes, let's." He left the untouched brandy sitting on the cover of the harpsichord, and rose from the couch, helping Elspeth to her feet.  He fumbled a moment with his glasses, making sure they were securely attached to his head, and they left the room together. They had only walked a few steps in silence when someone stepped out in front of them.  One of Cecily's friends, William recognized him from the circle that usually surrounded her. "May I help you?"

"I certainly hope so."  The young man's smile was oily, and he directed his bow towards Elspeth.  "I couldn't help but notice you were walking in the hall, and I hoped that you would do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the library."

Both of Elspeth's eyebrows rose so high, they nearly hit her hairline.  "I'm sorry, Mr…" She waited for the gentleman to fill in his name.  

"Pike.  Frederick Pike," he volunteered.  "Of the East End Pikes.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pike, of the East End Pikes," Elspeth repeated, her tone of voice barely this side of respectful and obviously making fun of the man's lineage.  "But Mr. Pratt has beaten you to the punch. He asked for my arm earlier during dinner, and it was my delight to promise him a walk after dinner, and my company for the evening."  A chilly smile that might've been threatening on another person's face. "Perhaps another time." The tone of her voice implied the unspoken part of the sentence; Perhaps another time, when hell has frozen over.  She patted William's arm with her gloved hand.  "Let's go, William."  

William allowed himself to be led by Elspeth's words.  "Excuse us, please?" he asked, trying to gently shoulder past the man blocking half of the hall.  Finally Pike relented, and William was able to squeeze past with Elspeth. "You didn't have to do that," William finally said.  "I would have been glad to see you on Mr. Pike's arm."

Elspeth barely held back the anger and disdain.  "Mr. Pike is nothing to me," she finally said. "He may be of standing and breeding, but he is impolite and unpleasant, and I find I prefer the company of handsome, pleasant men such as yourself."

"You are too kind, Elspeth," William said, a dull flush coloring his cheeks.  He wondered briefly if she were making some kind of fun of him, because he knew that he could not be considered handsome by a far stretch of the imagination.  "Tell me, why have you not yet married?"

Elspeth smiled at the compliment, and even more so at the question.  "My parents died when I was but a newborn babe. My aunt took me in as her own, and raised me with no husband.  She is considered a spinster by many, but she is strong, kind-hearted, and spirited. Of course I wish to wed, but if I do not, I will count myself blessed if my life is half of what my aunt's has been.  As I have no father or brother to contract for me, Tabitha has allowed me to pick and choose who I would like to see, and so far, none have suited me."  

William digested that as they walked.  His poem remained forgotten in his pocket for the moment.  "I have certain obligations to my mother, of course, but she mentions that she worries for me being alone all of my life.  I am not alone so long as I have her, but still, she worries," he offered, exchanging information for information.  

"You will not be alone so long as you have friends, of which I am one," she pointed out softly.  "I would very much like to meet your mother," Elspeth added quickly. "I believe her to be a fine lady, who has raised such a fine son."

William coughed, surprised and speechless.  "Of-of course, that would be excellent." He figured she was simply trying to be nice.  "Would tomorrow be acceptable to you?"

"Are you sure your mother is well enough?" Elspeth asked concernedly.  "Lady Munroe and I will be making visits to the sick house; if you'd like, I will ask one of the doctors to come and see her," she offered.  

"Oh, no, that isn't necessary," William said, barely stumbling over his words.  "It's the coughing, you know, some days are worse than others. She has medication and laudanum to help her sleep, but she has her good days and bad." 

"Just like the rest of us."  She squeezed his arm happily.  "I will send my man over to your home tomorrow while I am out, and if your mother is well enough to receive me, I shall come at whatever time you send back as convenient.  It would be my honor to bring tea and some small sweets, just as a thank you."

Before she could answer, the familiar shrill of Cecily's laughter cut through the quiet chatter, and her words seemed to echo in the hush.  "Freddie, are you teasing? Turned you down for William the Bloody? My, she is into charity work."

William was horrified and devastated.  Catherine was sitting on the other side of the room, and her entire demeanor chilled at Cecily's words.  

But it was Elspeth who had had enough.  "Please excuse me, dear William, I must take care of something."  She dared a kiss to his cheek, and marched determinedly over to Cecily's circle of friends.  "Miss Addams."

"Oh, Miss Holden!"  Fake sincerity dripped.  "We were just speaking of you."

"Yes, I heard," she said, keeping her voice calm.  "You, Miss Addams, are reprehensible. You are beneath contempt, a shallow, vapid woman who's mask of pleasantness is no substitution for kindness, breeding, and manners. You are a cow, a sponge, who soaks up the society of others in the hope of her own advancement.  You may be a woman, but you will never be a lady."  

Two spots of bright red color rose on Cecily's cheeks as she got to her feet.  "How dare you speak to me like that? I am--"

Elspeth did not let her finish.  "I know who you are, and I don't care about your lineage.  I dare to speak to you like that because it is what you deserve.  Over and over you have shown that your only enjoyment comes from the belittling of those who are above you in every way."  Jerking back, Elspeth's hand touched her cheek where she'd been slapped.  

"You are nothing!  You would not even be in this circle had Catherine not--"  Cecily's words were stopped by the quick flying of Elspeth's hand cracking loudly across her cheek, a slap for a slap.  "You dare strike me!"

"Oh, I would dare more than that," Elspeth reassured her hotly.  "But I will not lower myself more than I have to reside in the mire with you.  I am above you, Cecily, and I pray you remember that the next time you desire to run your harpy's beak about a dear friend of mine."  She would've lunged forward again, but Catherine had arrived, and was holding her shoulder tightly. "Good evening, Miss Addams." Elspeth sneered it with every bit of disdain she possessed, then let Catherine draw her aside.  "Apologies, Catherine."

Catherine snapped her fingers at one of the servants.  "Bring cool cloths to Miss Addams and Miss Holden," she ordered, and pulled Elspeth down to sit on one of the couches.  "I applaud you, Elspeth, although I did not expect physicality to enter into it. She will receive no further invitations for a time."  

Elspeth nodded.  "Thank you, Catherine.  I did not mean to make a spectacle."  She looked around quickly. "Where is William?"

Catherine craned her head, looking all around, but he was nowhere to be seen.

-----

William stumbled out into the dark, distressed and confused.  His cheeks were wet and he knew he was weeping, but he wasn't sure why.  No one was chasing him, though he was running full-tilt for the house before he remembered Ambrose and the carriage.  By the time he made it back to Catherine's house, Ambrose was at the ready and picked him up without a word.

By the time William arrived home, he had dried his face and had fixed a smile on it.  He'd secured a promise from Ambrose not to breathe a word of his unorthodox exit to his mother, and he was certain she'd be abed by the time he entered the house.  

She was, which gave William a small bit of relief, but he was hailed by their butler as he began climbing the stairs to his bedroom.  "Yes, Charles?"

"A letter for you, sir.  It was delivered only moments ago."  He offered the small packet on the silver tray in his hand.  "No card was left, I'm afraid."

"Thank you, I'll take it."  He took the envelope, and was surprised to see his full name, William Pratt, written in feminine calligraphy.  Climbing the stairs, he tore the envelope open only when he was safe behind the closed door of his bedroom.

Dearest William;

Catherine has been so kind as to lend me quill and paper, because I wish to write you now while the things that I would say are still fresh in my mind.  

You have my most humble apologies if I insulted or offended you in any way, because it was not my intent to do so.  The shame in Miss Addams' words is not yours; it is her own for her coarse behavior and unkind words.  

If offense was given, I pray that you forgive it; if insult was given, I beg your forgetfulness of it.  I cannot abide a harpy or a gossip; she is both and her words stung me as well as you.  

I shall still send word to you tomorrow through my man, though I will understand entirely if you choose not to see me at all.

Miss Elspeth Alexis Holden

William blinked, re-reading the letter several times before he realized that his abrupt departure had been grossly misconstrued.  

His desk always had paper and ink ready, and he dipped quill to inkwell as he composed a reply.

Dear Miss Elspeth:

I am afraid that you have misconstrued my reaction.  It was not your actions that I fled, but the insinuations of the situation.  No apology is necessary, because there was no insult or offense given by you in any way.  Miss Addams is unfortunately the rule of our society rather than the exception of it, and I would offer my apologies for distressing you over this matter.  I would also beg that you forget this incident, as I have.  

I am honored that you still wish to visit Mother and I tomorrow.  You need not send your man; you will be welcome at any time. Come near tea and we will serve you, come near dinner and you shall dine with us.  

We both look forward to your visit, myself especially.

Cordially,

Mr. William Pratt

He folded the letter up into thirds, dropped wax from the candle across the seal to hold it shut, and pressed a brass seal onto the hot wax to shape it into a P-shaped seal.  Once it was done, he rang for Charles. When the butler appeared, he held out the letter. "Please see that this is delivered to Miss Holden, first thing in the morning. Earliest as is civilized, and, um, the address is there on the front."  

A small smile played about Charles' lips as he took the letter.  "Of course, sir. Have a good night, Master William."  

William didn't bother undressing further than taking his jacket and ascot off before throwing himself on the bed and sleeping.  

-----

Morning came entirely too early for Elspeth.  A knock her door woke her, and Tabitha was at her bedroom door in her wrapper.  "Elspeth. Please explain to me why the sun is barely up and you're already receiving letters."  She held out the envelope to Elspeth.

Elspeth took it, and waved Tabitha into her room.  "I…" don't have any idea, she was going to say, but when she saw the formal script addressing it to her, along with the P wax seal, she grinned.  "It's from William."

"Why is William Pratt writing you letters?" Tabitha asked, coming in and closing the door behind herself.  

"Because remember I told you Cecily and I had a confrontation?  Well, before I left Catherine's I wrote him a small note, and Catherine had her man take it over as soon as it was done."  She held up the letter in her hand. "This must be his answer." Carefully she broke the wax seal and read over it. The more she read the wider her smile got.  

"Are you going to tell me what's in that letter or not?  You're about to swallow your own head, girl." Tabitha was very glad to see Elspeth happy; the night had not passed comfortably because Elspeth had been torn over her reaction to Cecily and what William's departure had meant. 

Elspeth got up off the edge of the bed, surrendering the letter to Tabitha and twirling with her arms outflung.  

Tabitha read the letter.  "Girl, you work fast. You went from barely knowing the man to change greetings with to receiving an open invitation to meet his mother."  

Elspeth tapped the letter.  "Him, especially!" She gave another twirl, then collapsed back onto the bed.  "Oh, Tabitha. I could've done bodily harm to that witch Cecily last night. She sent her little friend over to try and snatch me up, and when I wouldn't leave William's side, he ran back to her and she made such ugly comments.  Catherine said that Cecily's received her last invitation for some time!" That made her smile again. "And I hope to secure from William his agreement to continue coming, especially now that Cecily will not be there."

Tabitha just shook her head.  "Do be careful, Elspeth." She'd have liked to suggest a chaperone for the meting, but she knew Elspeth would refuse.  Instead Tabitha contented herself with the thought that Anne Pratt would be a sufficient chaperone. "Are you going for afternoon tea, or dinner?"

Elspeth considered her options for a moment.  "Tea, I think. If all goes well with Mrs. Pratt, perhaps I will be invited to dinner as well."

"Martin shall escort you," Tabitha decided.  "Davis will drive the both of you in the surrey, leave you off, and return to pick you both up later in the evening!"

Elspeth sighed.  "I don't need a chaperone!" she protested, but it was only a token.  "Lady Munroe and I will certainly be home in time." She looked at her aunt.  "Perhaps you can have Martin at the ready to leave as soon as I arrive home."

Tabitha smiled.  "Don't worry, my dear, everything will go smoothly."

-----

"… so you see, Mother?  She's a very nice girl and there's no doubt about that.  But I don't think she's quite…"

Anne Pratt smiled as her son's words trailed off.  She knew of the Holden family, had heard of the girl's unique upbringing.  "If you dislike the young lady such, why extend the invitation? Or accept her letters?"

William flushed; Charles must have told her.  "I don't dislike her," he said, flustered. "I'm not sure what I think of her, to be honest."

Anne was more certain; she liked the girl by her reputation already.  "Lady Catherine Morrow came by after breakfast," she said, briefly changing the subject before returning it to the girl.  "A formal invitation will come later in the week, but she plans another party this Friday evening in the hope it will eclipse last evening's unpleasantness.  She hopes especially for your attendance, and I am to pass on to you her reassurances that Miss Addams will not be attending." A pause. "But Miss Holden shall be there."

If Cecily was not attending, then there was no reason for him to attend.  But he would not voice that to his mother. "I shall consider it," he promised, and kissed her on the forehead.  "But I must go; I need to see the apothecary and replenish the laudanum, and I shall be back in time for tea." He needed a few other items as well; more paper, a fresh bar of sealing wax, a box of candles, lamp oil.

"Dear, dear boy.  Do be safe."

-----

True to his word, William returned nearly an hour before tea time.  He surrendered his packages to Charles, keeping only the parcel containing the gift he'd purchased for his mother.  Tucking the package under his elbow, William called out. "Mother? I've returned, I've brought you something!"  

"In here, my boy," his mother called from the library.  

William followed her voice.  "Mother, I've--oh. Do forgive me, I didn't realize you were entertaining."  He swallowed nervously, offering both women a bow. "Miss Elspeth."

"William!"  Elspeth smiled widely in greeting.  "It's wonderful to see you again; thank you for the kind invitation."

Anne patted Elspeth's knee.  "The pleasure is entirely ours, I assure you.  William, I've asked Miss Holden to stay for dinner as well as tea."

"Oh!"  William was vaguely surprised at the suggestion.  "That's a delightful thought."

"Miss Holden tells me you are working on a new composition," Anne added.  "Perhaps you'll consent to share with us after we've dined?"

"Er, yes.  Perhaps I shall," William agreed in a daze.

-----

After tea, Anne pled tiredness and retired to rest until dinner.  She hoped that William would take the moment and get to know Miss Holden better.  

While William saw Anne to bed, Elspeth explored the library.  To her delight, the shelves were packed with books, and she drew her fingertips gently over the spines.  She hesitated at the spine of a well-worn volume, and she chose it carefully. It was a thin sheaf titled simply, Selected Poems of P.B.S.  Opening it curiously, Elspeth was pleasantly surprised when the book fell open to a dog-eared page, as if used to always opening to the same poem.  Running her fingers over the words, she started reading them aloud.  

"The fountains mingle with the river, 

and the rivers with the ocean;

The winds of Heaven mix forever

With a sweet emotion.

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one thing meet and mingle

Why not I with thine?

See--"

William had been watching in silence.  He'd seen to his mother's comfort, and at her insistence, he'd returned to the library.  

He'd been surprised to find Elspeth standing by the shelves; she hadn't even bothered to sit.  So enraptured by the book she'd remained standing, haloed in the afternoon's slowly dying light.  There in profile, reading the words of the poem, William thought her beautiful--for an instant, even more so than Cecily.  

"See the mountains kiss high Heaven

And the waves clasp one another

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained it's brother.

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea;

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?"

Elspeth's voice faltered as William's voice unexpectedly joined hers.  He was reciting it from memory, standing in the doorway and watching her as his tongue formed the familiar words.  

Gently she closed the volume, and placed it back on the shelf.  "Forgive me," she murmured quietly, when silence ruled the library once more.  "I did not mean to intrude."

William moved across the library quickly, catching her hand before it moved from the shelf.  "On the contrary, you are not intruding. The poem isn't mine, merely one that I enjoy reading.  It has such feeling… your voice captured that so beautifully. Read another, would you?" He'd never met another like him; another person, another soul who valued the words, the pictures that words could create when used properly.  Moving his hand, he chose another well-worn volume. "Here."

Elspeth cradled the book carefully in her hands.  "Of course." She was relieved that he was not angry; she could not have helped herself even if he had been.  Tabitha's library was filled with books as well, books that she'd grown up reading, had read a hundred times. The measured pentameter of Shakespeare, the cantos of Edmund Spenser.  

But William's library was a treasure trove of new discoveries, and she eagerly accepted each book as he gave it to her.  This book was poems by a man named John Keats, and William explained to her that he had been a contemporary of the man who'd written the other poem.  And that one, that one is a reprint of just the sonnets of Shakespeare, do please give them another chance, and here, this small red one, this is a recent fellow just starting to publish in London.

William's enthusiasm for the work was obvious, and it bled over into Elspeth.  She took each book and read from it, sometimes with William's voice joining hers and sometimes alone for him to simply enjoy.  Charles was kept busy, either putting books away or refilling the pitcher of water that William had requested.  

And that is how Anne found them when she came down for dinner that evening.  Still together in the library, sharing the same couch, a stack of discarded books on the low table before them as William read aloud from one book, then when he finished, Elspeth read from another.  

They were both smiling, and William had loosened the cravat at his neck and had taken his jacket off entirely.  Elspeth had removed her gloves and loosened the buttons at her neck and wrists in her eagerness, and Anne was pleased.  "It looks as though I'm interrupting," she said with a smile, peeking in the library door. "William, Miss Holden?"

"Mother!"  William got up quickly from the couch, and Elspeth caught the book that fell from his lap like she'd done it a hundred times before.  "I didn't know you were about. Is it--?" He paused and checked his pocket watch. "Time escaped me. I should've come and brought you down myself."

"Nonsense!" Anne said.  "Miss Holden, I'm pleased to see you'll be remaining for dinner."

"Yes ma'am," Elspeth answered with a smile.  "If there's a place I could wash--"

"I'll show you," William said, taking her hand in his.  "The books can be a bit inky sometimes, and if you're not careful…" he turned her hand palm-up to show her the spots of ink that had rubbed off onto her skin.  "You'll become inked, like me." He held up his hand, showing that he shared the same proliferation of ink on his fingers.  

Anne had to smother the laugh.  "You young ones go and clean up, and I shall speak to the cook about holding dinner a few moments until you've come out."  She was mostly ignored by the two young people, and she didn't mind it in the least. She hoped that Elspeth would not tire of William's quiet ways, though the laughter that came from the small washroom down the hall didn't speak of that in the least.

-----

Dinner at the Pratt table was much more intimate, and lasted quite a bit longer, than the dinner at Catherine's.  They lingered together over dessert the most, and it was well close to eleven before the last of the dishes were cleared.  Anne retired again shortly thereafter, and Elspeth waited in the library as William made sure that his mother was well settled.  

When he returned, he found her curled on the couch in the library, leafing through the pages of one of the books William had pulled down for her to read from.  Martin the chaperone had remained quiet in the background all night, but now he was lurking closer to the door, making obvious the fact that it was time for her to leave.  

"Miss Elspeth," William said quietly.  "It is perhaps a bit soon to ask, but I would sincerely like to see you again," he continued, coming into the room to sit beside her on the couch.  "And if you would be so kind as to accept loan of this book," he added, daring a small smile, "Then I shall have reason to come and pay you a return visit."  

Elspeth's smile had not flagged in the least that night, because she had had a genuinely good time, and had enjoyed the company more than the dinner.  "It would be a great honor if you lent me one of your books," she answered, holding the tome close to her. "And I shall read it tonight; if you would like to come by tomorrow, it will be my pleasure to serve you afternoon tea, and introduce you to my aunt Tabitha."  

William rose from the couch, offering his hand.  "Then it is a deal," he said, bowing to kiss the back of it.  "And now it only remains for me to escort you home, if your chaperone does not protest, that is."

Martin shook his head negatively.  "It's a little late in the evening for escorts, Mr. Pratt.  That is why Miss Holden's aunt sent me."  

Elspeth turned an angry glare on the coachman.  "Really. You are going to be sitting on the bench atop us; we shall be doing nothing worthy of reproach and even if we were, you would see it instantly."

Tabitha had warned him she would be stubborn, and to only relent if Elspeth promised to be on her good behavior.  He supposed that nothing worthy of reproach would suffice as a promise, and he gave a long-suffering sigh.  "Very well. But this is against my judgment, I will have it known now, and you must both be on your best behavior."

William nodded, and offered his elbow to Elspeth.  "Miss Elspeth."

Elspeth took his arm, doing her best to ignore Martin altogether.  "Mister Pratt." She followed as William walked out to the carriage with her, helped her in, and then climbed in to sit across from her.  

Now that he was alone with her, he had no idea what to say to her.  "My mother spoke to Lady Catherine earlier in the day, and she is having another dinner Friday, to hopefully cause last night's pains to fade."

Elspeth nodded.  "Yes; Lady Munroe and I met Catherine while we were making our deliveries, and we paused for ices together.  She told me then, and implored me to come and prove that her hospitality was not sullied by Miss Addams' behavior."  

"She said something similar to Mother," William agreed.  "And that Cecily--Miss Addams--will not be there."

"Yes, Catherine feels that Miss Addams should be given a… cooling off time, perhaps, of a month or more, before she receives another invitation."  Personally, Elspeth didn't care; if Cecily wanted to return to Catherine's parties, she was more than willing to take the harpy on. But Catherine preferred niceness and civility, and Cecily was conducive to neither.  

"Well, as we are both invited…"  William looked out of the carriage window nervously, watching the cobblestones pass by in pools of light from the carriage lanterns.  "Well, perhaps you would like to accompany me? I shall pick you up before the party and we may attend together. If that is amenable with you."

"Yes," she said simply.  "That would be… more than amenable.  That would be perfect." She braced herself just a little as the carriage rolled to a stop, and Martin swung down in the next moment to fling open the door.  "We've arrived."

"Miss Holden."  Martin held out his hand to help her alight, the other holding a large lantern to light the pathway.  "Mr. Pratt."

Elspeth stepped out of the carriage, and felt William dismount behind her.  "I will see it through," William said to the coachman, and inwardly, he was shocked by his own daring.  

Martin just bowed, responding to the authority in William's voice, and stepped a half step back so that he could take Elspeth's arm.  

And she offered it quickly, smiling as he took it and walked her to the front door.  "Miss Elspeth, I do not exaggerate when I say that I had a wonderful time tonight," William said with a smile.  "And I look forward to seeing you tomorrow." He kissed her hand again, and then nodded towards the coachman. "I can find my own way home, thank you."

As he watched Elspeth disappear into the house, William adjusted his coat and pulled the collar up around his neck.  His purse was tucked tightly against his hip, and he began to move quickly through the streets of London. 

He passed a well-lit house, where a party was yet in full swing, and through the window, he saw Cecily.  He stopped in the pool of light from the window, watching quietly. Somehow she didn't seem as beautiful as she had just a day ago, and he felt no longing to be in there amongst her admirers.  

One of those admirers broke quickly away from the pack, leaving in a familiar rush.  William could only imagine the humiliation that Cecily had visited on the man to make him leave in such a confusion, and as he began walking again, he noticed a statuesque brunette in burgundy and black follow the crying young man down the alleyway.  

"London pickpockets," he murmured to himself.  He heard the woman's voice, an almost hypnotic, silky voice that spoke of burning baby fish, and treasures, and poetry.  Startled by the quirky conversation, William hurried past the alley, ignoring the moans that followed, and his pace quickened into a run, until he was completely safe in his own home.

The End