Passing as Elias (20 page)

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 realized the truth. Elizabeth stared at Merrill, trying to communicate an explanation through her eyes.

“I am sorry,” Elizabeth whispered through trembling lips. She was ashamed of herself, and disgusted that she had done these things to Merrill.

“No,” Merrill said, her eyes as round as saucers, “no.”

Elizabeth tried to stifle the heart-wrenching sob that escaped her, “Merrill, I never meant this to happen,” she said shakily.

Never before had Elizabeth felt so dependant on another person’s love. She could not bear it if Merrill hated her.

“Tell me it is not true,” Merrill said, her voice cracking. 

“It is true,” Elizabeth wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks, “I never planned this. I never meant to fall in love. And you must believe me when I say it. I do love you more than anything. God knows I mean it.”

“God knows you are going to hell for your filthy perversion,” George hissed.

Elizabeth ignored him and took Merrill’s hands between her own, “Please, Merrill. It was real for me. It was
real
. I never knew it was possible, for a girl to love another girl. I never knew, but now it is all that I know.”

Merrill stood, wrenching her hands from Elizabeth’s grip.

“I believe you have killed me,” she said.

Merrill took a step back, glanced at George Greenwood, turned on her heel, and ran. Elizabeth watched as she disappeared around a corner.

Elizabeth could not help it. Sobs tore from her and she yelled at George, “You have ruined everything!”

George picked her up from the ground roughly, and threw her over his wide shoulder. He carried her inside their house and dropped her carelessly onto the sitting room lounge. Elizabeth had forgotten all about the pain of her face, and ribs. The only pain she knew now was the loss of Merrill. Elizabeth knew that she would not come back.

“Well, this makes things quite simple,” George said as he paced the room.

Elizabeth sobbed into a cushion, smearing the spotless furniture with blood and tears.

“I knew you never loved me, but I never thought … with another girl.”

He did not seem too upset, Elizabeth thought. On the contrary, he seemed giddy, as though awaiting something glorious.

Looking through her tear-clogged eyelashes, Elizabeth saw that George was grinning. “W-what?” she said, hiccupping slightly.

“Honestly, though. Five months? It did not take you long, did it?”

Elizabeth frowned. She did not understand what he was talking about.

“George, I am sorry I have deceived you,” Elizabeth said miserably.

“On the contrary, my dear, you have done very well indeed.”

“I do not follow.”

“Well, this is exactly what I wanted. You see, after your disgusting perversion I am free to divorce you.”

That was fair enough, Elizabeth thought. She deserved that. In fact, she was glad of it. But why was George happy? Did he not love her anymore after five short months apart? He was taking this revelation of Elizabeth’s unfaithfulness extremely well.

“I had expected to wait several years, of course. You would, indeed, have been a long project.”

“Project?” Elizabeth repeated, “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not realized yet?” George said with raised eyebrows. “In the beginning I did worry that you would guess my plan.”

“Plan?” Elizabeth said, becoming quite agitated, “What are you talking about, George?”

“Professor de Bard, of course,” George said. He stopped pacing to look at Elizabeth, “Did you not think the timing perfect?”

“What does this have to do with the Professor?” Elizabeth said slowly.

“Did I not tell you that my father was a lawyer? I think I mentioned it, foolishly, after we had been courting for a week.”

“I remember,” Elizabeth said. She swallowed and felt blood ooze down the back of her throat, sickeningly.

“Well. Two weeks before Professor de Bard’s death, he approached my father’s colleague in order to change his Will. It was a peculiar thing to do, leaving everything to a girl that is not a blood relative.”

“What of it?” Elizabeth said through narrowed eyes.

“Well, when I returned from sea, my father informed me of the strange situation regarding Professor de Bard’s Will. He told me that, of course, Miss Searson would not be able to take ownership of the properties listed in the Will for there were no men in the family.”

Realization was dawning upon Elizabeth, but she hoped that she was just jumping to conclusions.

“Did you not think it strange, that he should die only two weeks after re-writing his Will?”

“Why should I think it strange?” Elizabeth said. “He was always testing vaccines on himself.”

“Well then, you may have noticed that his death coincided nicely with my return from sea. Do you not remember I visited you in the apothecary that day?”

Elizabeth remembered. George had visited the apothecary on the day that Professor de Bard had said that he needed to go home early to attend other business. 

“While we chatted you failed to notice that I thieved a number of vials containing Lyied.”

Lyied was a poison they stocked at the apothecary, primarily used to kill rats.

Elizabeth did not wish to hear this. It could not be true. Good, warm-hearted George Greenwood had always been so kind and gentle. She could not believe this of him.

“No,” Elizabeth said.

“Yes. After our chat I visited Professor de Bard’s home,” he looked around, “
this
home. I laced every liquid in the house with the Lyied.”

Elizabeth stared, “
Why
?”

“
Because
, I knew that if Professor de Bard died, his property would belong to Elizabeth Searson’s husband.”

“You … you courted me for
this
?” Elizabeth said in disbelief. “You killed a great man to get this home?”

“Not just his home. Do you know how much that apothecary is worth? On such a large plot in the middle of town, it will sell for a very excellent price.”

Elizabeth needed to get up and run to the nearest authority. She needed to tell someone that Professor de Bard’s death had not been an accident. She shifted her weight upon the lounge into a position where it would be easy to lunge for the door.

“Do not think of going anywhere,” George said casually, leaning on the mantelpiece. 

Elizabeth took a deep steadying breath, “What are you going to do with me?” she said through gritted teeth, “kill me too?”

“Do not be ridiculous, my dear. Why would I kill you? I already own the house, and the shop. Both properties are in my name. After all, it was you who asked me to sign for them. I suppose you thought you were tricking me, did you?”

Elizabeth did not respond. She felt foolish. Never had she considered that George might be using her to get access to the house and apothecary. She had been so obsessed with running the shop in the name of the Professor that she did not stop to consider why George Greenwood wanted to marry her so badly. Now that she thought of it though, everything did fall into place rather nicely for him.

“Indeed, I was well aware that you had no feelings for me,” George continued. “However, I think I did a rather good job playing the part of a love-struck man. Did you never wonder why I was so keen to get married? Did you never wonder why I chose to hide the marriage from my parents”’

“I suppose I wanted to believe you cared,” Elizabeth glared. “I thought you a good man.”

“I thought you a decent girl, too,” George said with a shrug, “but you changed your views on marriage so swiftly, of course I knew you were trying to use me. How sweet, I thought. I got exactly what I wanted with little to no effort.’

“You killed a man for your own selfish gain.”

“How do you think anyone makes it in the world?” George rolled his eyes, “People die every day. No one will miss some old man.”

“I would miss him!” Elizabeth said fiercely. “He was everything, and you shall rot in a cell for what you have done to the Professor.”

George laughed, “I have already gotten away with it, my dear.”

“I will tell everyone,” Elizabeth hissed.

“Who would believe someone like you? A woman that dresses as a man, and courts young girls? They will think you are mad. You will be in the nut house this time next week.”

Elizabeth did not respond. She stared angrily at George, her hands itching to clamp around his throat. 

“Regardless,” George stood straight, “I shall be gone this time tomorrow. I will sell the properties and take the next carriage away from this shit hole.”

“And what about me?” Elizabeth said angrily, “Will you just leave me here, with no home, and no job?”

“Why not put on your little boys outfit and walk the streets like the filthy whore you are?” George snapped.

“I wish you had drowned at sea!” Elizabeth stood angrily. The pain in her ribs was nothing compared to her anger, “You will not get away with what you have done.”

“My father will take care of the divorce paperwork, and I shall be gone in the morning. No one will believe you, and even if they did, there would be nothing they could do about it,” George said 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,” he 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, her voice shaking, “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 on 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 she would not let her mother take care of her, for she could barely take care of herself.