Passing as Elias - By Kate Bloomfield Page 0,55

mark upon your neck? IS IT?’

And Elizabeth realized.

‘George!’ Elizabeth cried desperately, ‘George!’

The beating ceased.

Silence rang the air. The only sound came from Elizabeth who coughed and spat blood onto the pavement.

It was a wonder how George Greenwood managed to recognize Elizabeth through the swollen eye he had just given her, yet he said her name.

‘El-Elizabeth?’ He dropped his grip from her shirt and took a step back.

Tears streaked her face, and her whole body ached yet she managed to nod.

‘Christ.’ She heard George mutter. He did not rush to her side, and did not ask if she was all right.

‘Why are you dressed that way? What have you done to your hair?’

Yet Elizabeth did not have time to answer. She heard footsteps, a scream, and then someone threw themselves on top of Elizabeth.

It was Merrill. She crouched over Elizabeth, still in her nightdress. The yells must have woken her.

‘What have you done?’ Merrill cried at Captain Greenwood, who stood back, watching.

‘Merrill, no. Please, go inside.’ Elizabeth muttered dazedly. She tried to get up, yet the pain in her ribs was too much. She winced and remained on the floor.

‘Mister Searson, are you all right?’ Merrill tried to wipe the blood from Elizabeth’s face.

George stepped forwards, and Merrill yelled at him, ‘Get back, sea dog!’

He ceased.

‘What did you call … what did you call her?’ George said, staring at Merrill.

‘He did not call me anything.’ Merrill said angrily to George.

‘No.’ George spat, pointing a finger at Elizabeth, ‘What did you call her?’

Utter dread pierced Elizabeth. She stared into the face of George, willing him to be silent. Pleading silently that he not speak another word. Yet it was too late.

‘How dare you! This is Mister Searson!’ Merrill said, anger flaring in her eyes, ‘A great man!’

George’s eyes traveled from Merrill’s tear-streaked face, to Elizabeth’s bloody, beaten, and swollen one. His eyes flickered downward to the bruise upon Elizabeth’s neck. Understanding blossomed in his dark eyes.

‘Did you give Searson that mark?’ George pointed to Elizabeth.

Merrill looked to Elizabeth and then back to George, ‘What of it?’ She hissed.

‘So.’ George said, ‘Sweethearts, are you?’

Merrill did not answer, but tried to help Elizabeth to her feet.

Crossing his arms over his wide chest, George said, ‘this is how it is then? You know, I have heard of wives being unfaithful whilst their husbands are at sea, yet I have never heard of two women becoming lovers.’

Elizabeth closed her eyes and hoped she might vanish from the spot. George was glaring at her with such animosity that she recoiled from his stare. Merrill looked between them, confused.

‘You are mad.’ She accused George. ‘Mad! They should lock you up before you hurt someone else!’

‘You mean you do not know?’ George turned to Elizabeth, ‘is this a new hobby, my dear? Luring young women into your bed?’

Elizabeth did not speak.

‘Well?’ George waited.

‘What is he talking about?’ Merrill said, ‘Do you know him? Is he mad?’

‘I know him.’ Elizabeth whispered. She could feel blood oozing from her nostril, ‘He is not mad.’

Merrill did not understand. She did not yet comprehend the situation that she had walked in on.

‘Are you not going to tell her?’ George asked lightly. His voice was full of malice, ‘Do you not think she deserves to know? After all, she has been hoodwinked.’

‘Stop it.’ Elizabeth said through gritted teeth.

‘I guess I must be the one to break the poor girls heart. How old is she, my sweet? Sixteen? Seventeen? Quite a pretty thing too. You have good taste. I might like a taste for myself, if you are not opposed to sharing.’

He tried to grab Merrill’s arm, but she swatted him away, ‘Do not touch me!’

Elizabeth surged with anger, ‘Keep your hands off her.’

George’s eyes flashed. Elizabeth had never seen this look upon his face before.

‘You choose her, do you?’ George glared.

Elizabeth wiped away the blood dripping down her lip with the back of her hand.

‘Yes.’ She breathed.

‘So, tell her what you have done, or I will.’ George said.

Elizabeth looked between them. They both stared at Elizabeth, waiting. Her heart pounded, and she was drenched in sweat. Her mind screamed, do it, do it now. You must be the one to tell her, you must show her. The truth could not come from Captain Greenwood.

With a trembling hand, Elizabeth reached for her wig, and slowly pulled it from her head. Red curls flopped to her shoulders.

Merrill did not gasp, she did not even recoil. Instead, her face became pale, and her pupils dilated as she