Passing as Elias - By Kate Bloomfield Page 0,58

lazily.

Elizabeth fumed silently, her mind working fast for a way around this. What could she do? George Greenwood was a respectable man, with a lawyer for a father. Elizabeth was a no one that had been discovered dressing as a boy to run the apothecary, and she had had sexual encounters with another female. George was right – if anyone found out she would be carted off to the mad house.

‘So I shall make you a deal.’ George said looking quickly at his pocket watch, ‘Tell no one of this, and I shall not reveal your, uh, recent adventures.’

Elizabeth could not speak. Her mouth was dry, and she wanted to avenge Professor de Bard with all of her heart. Oh, how upset he would be if he knew that Elizabeth had lost the apothecary. Perhaps he had not intended to die so soon, and thought that by the time he did pass away, Elizabeth might be married to a nice gentleman who would not steal from her.

George took Elizabeth’s silence for a ‘yes’.

‘Excellent,’ George clapped his hands together, ‘I must dash, sweetheart. Lots of people to see, you know. You do not mind clearing out your things, do you? Good girl. I shall be back in the morning, and if you are still here, well, I suppose I shall have to send a letter to the insane asylum. So I would not linger if I were you.’

‘You have ruined me.’ Elizabeth said in a shaking voice, ‘You have taken everything I have ever cared about.’

George gave a shrug, ‘This is what happens when you think yourself equal to a man, my dear.’

He left without another word. Elizabeth listened as the door snapped shut behind him. She had never felt so alone. Everything she had loved was gone. Professor de Bard had been murdered, the apothecary had been stolen, and Merrill … Merrill was gone.

Elizabeth was rarely weepy, but she allowed herself to cry freely into the sofa cushions. She only had one person left in the world now, and that was her mother.

Chapter Eleven

Beginnings

Elizabeth took refuge at her mother’s house, for the spare room remained unoccupied. Elizabeth packed all of her belongings into one suitcase and carted them back to her old home. She took her male and female clothing with her, but did not keep the wig.

She wore pants around the house for they were practical, and comfortable. It was easier to work in men’s clothes, she found, and women’s clothes had become unbearably uncomfortable. At least she did not have to bind her chest anymore. Instead, she wore loose fitting shirts tucked into her pants. Her mother did not seem to mind that Elizabeth dressed in men’s clothes while at home. If Elizabeth needed to go out she would put on a dress, reluctantly.

Elizabeth’s black eye and cracked ribs began to heal. She was able to make herself remedies to ease the pain. When her mother had first seen her upon the doorstep, battered, bloody, and bruised, she had fussed non-stop for days on end, though the pain in Elizabeth’s heart was far greater.

George kept good on his promise. A week passed and the mad house did not call upon Elizabeth, nor threaten to take her away because she was confused about her gender. The truth was, Elizabeth was not confused anymore. During her week at home she had begun to understand herself better, and become comfortable in her own skin. She had looked into the mirror, and said to her reflection, ‘My name is Elizabeth Searson, and I am attracted to women.’

Elizabeth had a small amount of savings that she managed to live on, but she needed to get a job quite desperately. Her coin was dwindling fast and Elizabeth would not let her mother take care of her, for she could barely take care of herself.

Elizabeth went to numerous shops within walking distance of her home, and eventually found a small shop that sold hats. There was a sign on the door that said ‘Help Wanted’, so Elizabeth entered and introduced herself. An elderly gentleman and his wife, who seemed to be very kind, ran the shop. Elizabeth told them that she had been an apprentice at the apothecary on Eastmoreland place, before her Professor’s demise. They seemed to sympathize with Elizabeth and offered her work three days a week. It was a start, at least, Elizabeth thought. The pay was not as much as she had been earning previously, but at this point she could