Consider it done, especially if it gets us moving again. In fact, I'll write some posts for Julian too at times. Okay, here we go...
Gregory
It was a most frightful day and I was grateful to be heading home or rather heading to a home.
"Take my hand you poor creature and allow me to escort you. It would be most unpleasant if you were to slip again," Abigail's husband offered and Elizabeth who seemed a little disorientated did not refuse so he took her arm in his. I scowled. It was one thing to be unconcerned of your wife's safety but quite another to seek after some other woman. There again, what did it matter to a man such as myself?
"Elizabeth will spend the night with us," My cousin Isabelle decided. "I think it wise. Do you not think it wise, Gregory?"
"I do," I responded, "but let us hear the doctor's verdict first and her family should be sent to."
"She has been staying with me, do you not recall?" Laney reminded us.
"I do not see why that is of importance. Surely she has family near by?" Abigail's husband said.
It was not a long walk to the doctor's, thankfully, but I still felt guilty that Julian was having to undertake the task which my husband had himself deigned not to accept. My guilt was coupled with concern. To be seen walking alone with a man not my husband could tarnish my reputation irreparably.
Mr. Wilmot had surely given the matter not a second's thought. Though granted he could be rather impractical when I did not question his logic. I always frowned when I did so, and softened my tone, as if embarrassed that I could not understand him without the need for questioning. Then he would smile, and fish around for answers which eh wished me to believe that he had always possessed, but deemed self-explanatory.
"I'm sorry that you've had to accompany me." I said to Julian.
He frowned. "Is my company so wearisome?"
I blushed. "No...I simply meant that you surely have better ways in which to spend your time..."
"Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise." -Maya Angelou
I laughed good naturedly and shook my head. How the woman puzzled me; and her husband more so.
"Better things to do? A man such as myself whose only employment is his books?" I shook my head again and walked briskly after the doctor.
"What state were the patients in when you saw them last?" the doctor asked.
"In good humour," I responded, "though both shivering badly and more than a little cold I should imagine."
"Does this sound a fair description?" the doctor turned to Abigail for confirmation. For a moment she looked stunned and then nodded meekly. How very strange indeed.
"Then it is one we will not trouble you with," I replied as we reached the path that led to the house. We hurried along it and entered to find Martha polishing the banister.
"Light a fire in the parlour Martha and have Esther meet us there. Oh and tell Mildred we will take tea in a half hour," I instructed.
"Yes miss Isabelle," the maid replied before hurrying away. I led my guests to the parlour and once we were seated, Esther soon joined us. She was in her late forties with greying hair and lifeless blue eyes.
"Yes miss Isabelle?" She asked with a curtsy.
"Bring one of my gowns down - the larger of the crème ones ought to fit - and fetch the clothes Gregory brought with him."
"Yes miss Isabelle," she curtsied again and then her presence was replaced by Martha who set about raking the ashes out of the hearth and lighting a new fire.
Elizabeth sat on the floor by the hearth wrapped tight within Gregory's cloak. She was so cold and so tired. Not caring if it was proper or not, she slowly slid her self down on its side and started to drift off to sleep.
"Miss Elizabeth," ISabelle said softly, "the doctor is here."
Groaning she sat up as best she could, and then was helpped to the couch so the doctor could examin her better.
"The worst that will happen with either would be a very nasty head cold." He explained. "But I strongly urge them to get warm as fast as possible."
Later that evening when Gregory and Elizabeth were both dried and in dry clothes they sat in the parlor together drinking tea and conversing.
How bothersome! To be stuck in the parlour, apart from my business and cold and miserable too at that. To be fair, my dear cousin had found me dry clothes and the fire in the hearth was cheerful but I never could stand to sit still when there was work to be done.
"Thank you," Elizabeth began the conversation.
"Not at all," I responded.
"It was very brave of you," she said.
"And very foolish. We might both have drowned," I replied.
"I suppose..."
"Should I send for the maid?" I asked suddenly. "I could tell her to bring us some books which would help abate this boredom."
"You are bored then?" Elizabeth asked, sounding a touch disapointed. I shook my head.
"No but I know how you women like your books and I am ill company at the best of times."
"On the contrary," Elizabeth argued, "I very much enjoy your company."
"If so madam, I must say I find you very strange."
"I have often been told," she replied, "but I have spent far too many years behind the pages of books, reveling in the freedom they gave me that the real world could not. That the real world would not." She glanced over to see that he was staring at her with wide eyes, so she abruptly turned back to the shelves with the orniments and trinkets on them. "Which is probably why I am so prone to accidents, years of pent up energy yearning to be set free."
