Passing as Elias (14 page)

One afternoon, however, Elizabeth was taken by surprise when Merrill turned up after work. Merrill spotted Elizabeth at the bar and made her way over at once. Many men stared at Merrill as she walked through the pub, and this annoyed Elizabeth for some reason. She had already had a pint by this time, and her tongue felt quite loose.

“Mister Searson!” Merrill said, “what a place to find you, sir.”

“Did you follow me here, Merrill?” Elizabeth said slyly.

“Never, sir.” She gave him a slap on the arm.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, giving Merrill a skeptical look.

“Oh, all right,” Merrill said sheepishly, “I wondered what you liked about this place so much.”

“Would you care for a beverage?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, I should not,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Why not?” Elizabeth said. She flagged down the barmaid and ordered Merrill a pint of mead.

“No, really, sir,” she said, turning pink, “it does funny things to my head.”

Elizabeth shrugged, and claimed Merrill’s pint for herself after slapping a sovereign onto the bar. She did not like to admit it, but she was quite enjoying life as a man. She could do what she liked, and stay out as long as she pleased.

Merrill stood there awkwardly, looking around nervously. Elizabeth noticed that a few men were leering at Merrill, and talking behind their hands.  Elizabeth was not sure what to say, so they sat there awkwardly for several minutes.

“Well, I best be off, sir.” she said, clearing her throat nervously.

Elizabeth waved goodbye and Merrill left hurriedly. However, Elizabeth noticed that two burly men followed her out of the Inn.

With a sense of foreboding, Elizabeth got up from her stool and followed too. It was not long before she caught up. Indeed, her suspicions were correct – the men were following Merrill. They swaggered down the pavement, leaning this way and that. Merrill walked at a fast pace, clearly trying to avoid them.

They called out to her.

“Hallo darling!” one of them slurred.

“Where ya going lovely?” the other called.

Merrill did not look over her shoulder, but these men had long legs and caught up with her quickly.

They grabbed her shoulder, and stood on either side of her.

“Where you off to, my love?” the taller of the two said, putting his hands to her waist.

“Leave me alone,” Merrill said, trying to wrench free.

“I do not think she likes you, Tom,” the shorter, stockier of the two laughed.

“I bet she would like a real man!” he retorted, trying to grind himself against Merrill.

Merrill wrenched free and slapped the taller man called Tom across the face before kicking him in the groin.

“Little bitch,” he grunted.

And then they lunged for her.

“Stop that!” Elizabeth found herself shouting. Her feet were moving of their own accord – running defensively towards Merrill. Elizabeth knew it was incredibly stupid; she was half the size of these men. Before she had even reached Merrill, an arm swung out and winded her. She fell to the ground, hard. Elizabeth coughed, and tried to suck in air. The men laughed overhead.

“Look at this little bloke,” the fatter one said, “reckons he is tough!”

Merrill had broken free from their grip, and fell to her knees beside Elizabeth.

“Mister Searson, are you all right?” she said helping Elizabeth to her feet.

“I am fine,” Elizabeth said breathlessly. “You keep your hands off of her,” she said to the two men.

The men laughed loudly, throwing back their heads derisively, “What you going to do about it, tiny?”

They pushed Elizabeth, and she fell backwards onto her bottom. She had nothing, no muscles, or weight advantage over these men. They could beat her to a pulp if they so wished. However, Elizabeth did seem less intoxicated than these idiots. Perhaps it was the mead in her system that made her feel braver than she actually was.

“Do not do that again,” Elizabeth said under her breath as Merrill helped her to her feet. This made the men laugh again.

“Please sir, do not,” Merrill moaned. She was hiding behind Elizabeth, with her hands upon Elizabeth’s shoulders.

“Or else,” Elizabeth added, bravely.

This made the men frown. They did not seem to like being threatened. One of them cracked his knuckles menacingly. 

They made a start forward, but Elizabeth was too quick for them. Pulling a vial from her vest pocket, she uncorked it and splashed the liquid into the taller man’s face. He howled with pain and doubled over, blinded. The fatter man did not seem to know what was going on, but decided that Elizabeth must have done something bad, because he punched her right on the nose. Elizabeth was on the ground again, but Merrill helped her up  once again.

“Run!” Merrill squeaked, and together they shot off down the street, hand in hand, while the two men lumbered after them, slowed by their intoxication.

Once Elizabeth and Merrill had run a safe distance and lost the men, they slowed to a jog, before stopping and leaning upon a wall, some four blocks away.

“Sir!” Merrill said breathlessly, “what did you do?”

Elizabeth panted, holding a stitch in her side, “Capsicum extract.”

“Why are you carrying that around with you?” she asked, bewildered.

“Safety?” Elizabeth said with a shrug. “It came in handy, did it not?”

“I guess,” Merrill said as Elizabeth straightened up, her face illuminated by the streetlights. “Sir! Your nose!”

Elizabeth put her fingers to her lip, and felt the blood oozing from her nostril, “Oh,” was all she managed to say.

“Does it hurt?” Merrill asked.

“I am not sure yet,” Elizabeth said mildly, “I have had quite a lot of mead.”

“We have to get you cleaned up,” Merrill insisted.

“My home is near,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth and Merrill were in the kitchen, dabbing away the blood on Elizabeth’s face.

“I do not believe you did that,” Merrill said over and over again.

“What was I supposed to do?” Elizabeth said, “they were all over you.”

“They would have beaten you senseless!”

Elizabeth gave a shrug and felt her nose. Luckily, it was not broken, though a rather large bruise had blossomed across her eyes.

“You look an awful mess,” Merrill said, shaking her head.

“At least I look rather tough,” Elizabeth swallowed, and tasted blood in the back of her throat.

Merrill raised her hand and dabbed at Elizabeth’s top lip with a wet cloth. Their eyes lingered for a moment, before Merrill looked away and muttered, “Thank you, anyway.”

“You are welcome.”

~

Elizabeth could not explain why she felt so protective of Merrill. Perhaps she wanted to help Merrill succeed in a career, rather than succumb to a life of homemaking. Whatever the reason, Elizabeth vowed to be Merrill’s mentor, and guide her in the right path.

Merrill made every day at the apothecary a joy. She laughed unashamedly, was immensely funny, and adorably clumsy. She talked non-stop, and her social skills had improved greatly. Elizabeth found she looking forward to going to work in order to see her new friend, and began to dread the end of the workday when she would depart. Merrill had not spoken of her betrothal since their conversation a fortnight ago, and seemed relatively happy, so Elizabeth was not concerned. Truly, she had found an irreplaceable friend in Merrill, but Elizabeth was not sure that Merrill felt the same way. Of course, all Merrill saw was a male employer, and Elizabeth had come to accept this.

Growing up, Elizabeth had never had many friends, and to this day she did not know of one person, besides her mother, that might visit her home on a whim.  Elizabeth was not the type to become lonely, and she often did not crave the company of others, though this had changed over the last few weeks.

A surge of jealousy seemed to take over Elizabeth whenever she thought about someone trying to take Merrill from her, whether it be a future husband, or a parent. She pushed these irrational thoughts aside every time they flooded her brain, and focused on something positive.

Elizabeth wanted to spend time with Merrill outside of the apothecary, yet she did not know how to approach the subject for she feared it might be inappropriate, especially since everyone believed her to be a man.

She did not need to fret about this for long, however, for it was Merrill who suggested it first.

“Sir,” she said hesitantly one night, “What do you do on Sundays?”

It was eight o’clock at night, and Merrill had volunteered to stay back late and help Elizabeth with some research regarding a vaccination she was working on.

“Sundays?” Elizabeth frowned without looking up from her work. Usually, Elizabeth would go to church, dressed as her usual feminine self, but what
Elias
might do was a completely different story.

“Yes,” Merrill hesitated, “only, your sister mentioned weeks back that you left town regularly on the weekend.”

“Oh,” was all Elizabeth managed to say.

“Do you have a sweetheart out of town, sir?” Merrill said in a casual tone, though Elizabeth saw her give a sideways glance. She was propped up on a stool next to Elizabeth’s workbench, while she measured ingredients, and took notes.

Elizabeth smirked, “No, I do not.” she replied after a moment’s silence.

“Then why do you leave every weekend?”

Elizabeth did not know the answer to this, because she did not leave the town every weekend. It had been the only way to explain Elias’ absence every Sunday.

“I … like to go to the countryside and relax,” she invented. “Fresh air, and perhaps a packed lunch in a grassy park somewhere.”

“That sounds lovely,” Merrill sighed, “it must be nice getting away from the centre of town for a while.”

“Pass that vial, will you?” Elizabeth pointed to the shelf behind Merrill, and kept her eyes on her work.

Merrill did as she was asked, and continued, “Might I join you one Sunday, sir? Mayhap you could take me to your favorite spot. I could bring a packed lunch.”

Elizabeth dropped the vial, and it shattered upon the floor. Merrill bustled about, sweeping up the shards of glass while Elizabeth thought up a suitable response.

“Might that seem a bit … odd?” Elizabeth chose her words carefully.

“Well if you do not wish to,” Merrill said hurriedly, “I did not mean to impose, sir. Forget I said anything. I thought it might be nice to get away and relax with someone I could trust.” She had turned quite pink.

Elizabeth’s heart was racing, “I would like you to come,” she said.

Merrill grinned.

~

Elizabeth was not sure as to what her plan was. She did not have a “special spot” she liked to visit on weekends, nor did she have a way of getting to such a place. Nevertheless, she promised Merrill an excursion into the countryside that Sunday after church. Merrill insisted that they meet at Elizabeth’s residence, and journey onwards from there. Elizabeth did not object.

The remainder of the week she tried to think of somewhere suitable to take Merrill for their first outing as friends. Some might disapprove of a young “man” and woman spending time alone together, without a chaperone, but Elizabeth thought this was quite ridiculous
. If they only knew
, she thought amusedly. However innocent Elizabeth’s intentions were, what if Merrill did not see it the same way? This had not occurred to her just yet, and a prickle of worry formed in Elizabeth’s stomach. She decided to ignore it, and thought it would be absurd for Merrill to be remotely interested in Elias.

A small valley called Coachers hill, a half hour out of town seemed the ideal place. Her mother had told Elizabeth about it when she had enquired about an ideal place to have a picnic. Her mother said it was covered in flowers, and huge oak trees that would be a splendid source of shade. Apparently, nobody ventured there, for upon the land was an abandoned house. Rumors flew that it was haunted, and sometimes children would dare each other to get as close as possible to the building. Elizabeth had never been there, but decided that this was her best hope for a “tranquil” spot. She hoped that Merrill was not opposed to walking.

The day of the picnic arrived, and Elizabeth spent an excruciating amount of time in front of the mirror, ensuring her disguise would be weather proof in case the clouds above decided to release the rain within them. She donned a hat and boots, and carried an umbrella with her to the door when she heard the sound of gentle knocking.

“Good morn, Merrill.” Elizabeth gave a small bow.

Merrill seemed slightly flustered, for she had walked a half-mile with an enormous basket under her arm.

“Have you brought enough food for the entire town?” Elizabeth teased.

Merrill smiled, embarrassed, “I was not sure what you favored, so I brought a little bit of everything.”