she really had no choice. When Captain Greenwood returned it would be game over. It was best that Merrill forgot all about Elias Searson.
Merrill seemed to have guessed the answer, and buried her face into Elizabeth’s chest.
‘How long do we have?’ Merrill asked in a muffled voice.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply through her nose, ‘A month.’ She said.
~
Elizabeth dreaded Captain Greenwood’s return. She found herself wishing that he would get lost at sea. She felt immediately guilty when she thought these things, for he was a good man who had never done wrong by her. But Elizabeth had done so much wrong by him. She had lay with another woman, and enjoyed it far more than lying with her own husband. True, Elizabeth had married George Greenwood out of convenience, yet that did not explain her attraction to the same sex. She knew she would go to hell for her actions, but Elizabeth felt sorry for Merrill more than herself.
Merrill was depressed, and quiet over the following days. She had stopped visiting Elizabeth during the night, though this did not stop Elizabeth remaining in disguise just incase.
Throughout the workday they snuck kisses in the laboratory while the shop was empty, and on numerous occasions Elizabeth found her hands underneath Merrill’s skirt. Their forbidden love, and limited time made for excellent foreplay.
Every evening when the shop was closed, Elizabeth found herself between Merrill’s thighs. Elizabeth loved doing it, and was getting quite good. It also distracted Merrill from the fact that Elizabeth would not make love to her in the way a man should. Countless times Merrill tried to return the favor, insisting that she take Elias into her own mouth, but obviously Elizabeth always declined, for there was nothing to take.
When there was only a week left before Elias’ “departure” Merrill wanted to spend every waking moment together. They lay in Elizabeth’s bed, holding one another.
Merrill cried a lot, and wished Elizabeth to stay. It took Elizabeth all of her strength not to weep along with her lover, though of course she did not because that would not have been very manly of her. Elizabeth’s kept strong by reminding herself that she was not actually leaving, and she would still get to see Merrill while she was a woman.
It was a cold, windy Tuesday when everything came crashing down around Elizabeth. She left Merrill sleeping in bed that morning, thinking to escape to the apothecary rather early to complete some custom orders. She wore her usual shirt, vest, breeches, and shoes. After giving the wig a quick brush in the washroom, Elizabeth was ready to leave. She noticed that there was a rather large bruise upon her neck. Merrill had branded her again. She touched it lightly and smiled. The memories of the night before came flooding back, and Elizabeth felt instantly aroused. Yet there was no time to satisfy her urges. She needed to finish some work, for she had fallen quite behind lately. Having a love life did indeed put the apothecary in second place.
Elizabeth took the stairs two at a time, picked up her briefcase, umbrella, and hat at the door, and stepped outside into the chilly morning air.
She had barely taken two steps away from the house when a voice called out to her.
‘You! What the devil are you doing in my house?’ Elizabeth spun around to see who had called, for obviously there had been some kind of mistake as this was her house. She turned to face the direction of the voice.
Thwack.
Elizabeth crumpled to the floor, holding her face in her hands, blinded by the immense pain. Someone had hit her. Someone had punched her right in the eye.
Elizabeth swore and rolled onto her back, lights blinking rapidly in front of her eyes. Everything was blurry. For one horrible moment she feared that she had indeed become blind from the blow. Yet things were slowly coming back into focus. It was such a pain that she had never felt before, but it did not end there.
‘What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing. In. My. House!’ Each word brought another blow to Elizabeth’s body. She cried, and flailed, trying to fight the attacker off. Somewhere deep in her mind she knew that this voice was familiar. No, it could not be, she thought dazedly. Again and again, the blows kept coming. Her ribs cracked and she spat blood.
‘Where is my wife, you mongrel?’ Elizabeth felt the front of her shirt being grabbed, ‘is that her