She had heard that it was painful and that only men enjoyed it, but that was not how she had felt. No, whatever lay beyond kisses was not going to be unpleasant. She could feel it in every particle of her being.
Yet who could she ask about this? Definitely not her father, and her sisters were as ignorant of the facts of life as she was. Eliza sighed and walked over to the writing desk by the window. Sitting and thinking about the vexing subject would get her nowhere.
She took out her writing materials and looked with bitterness at the expensive, fine-grained paper with the Earl of Harwick’s crest at the top of the page. This was why she had been sold; so that her father could continue to pretend that he was wealthy and cultured, when in fact he was neither. He was poor, uncouth, and a bully.
Abruptly, Eliza shook all thought of him out of her mind to concentrate on the letter she was writing.
Dear Juliet and Margot,
I hope you are both well. I am happy to report that I am, and that Laird Sinclair seems to be a decent man who treats me well. Scotland is not as savage as we were led to believe, although there is a sense of danger here sometimes, and my Englishness is a bit of a handicap, but I feel I am slowly overcoming it.
I asked Laird Sinclair to train me in combat. As you know, it is something I have always been interested in, and he has agreed. I will let you both know how I am progressing in my next letter—assuming that I manage not to kill myself!
I miss you both very much, and I hope to see you soon.
All my love, dearest sisters.
From your own,
Lizzie.
Eliza sealed the letter, then gave it to one of the manservants with instructions on where it should be sent. After a few moments, Maisie came in with a tea tray and poured a cup for Eliza, who smiled at her.
“Can you fetch me a needle and thread please, Maisie?” she asked. “I want to do some mending.”
Maisie looked astonished, but went to do her mistress’s bidding, and while she was out of the room, Eliza sipped her tea, found that it tasted quite normal, and relaxed.
Maisie handed a needle and a spool of brown thread to Eliza, then frowned as she watched Eliza thread the needle.
“Dae ye sew, Milady?” she asked.
“Yes, I do,” Eliza replied. “It’s my favourite pastime, and it can be very useful. I enjoy keeping my hands busy, and I love making and mending things. Now sit down and let me show you something.”
The young woman did as she was told, but her expression became deeply puzzled when Eliza picked up a section of Maisie’s skirt, and matched the colour with the thread. It was nowhere near similar, but it was all she had, so it would have to do.
“Watch what I do, Maisie.”
She found a tear in Maisie’s dress, then began to stitch the ragged edges together.
“But Milady, this is no’ what a lady should be doin’. This is maid’s work!” Her voice sounded shocked.
“A lady does what she pleases,” Eliza answered. “And I am a lady who cares for the good of others. Now watch, Maisie.”
Carefully and slowly, Eliza mended the hole in Maisie’s skirt with tiny, meticulous stitches. When she had finished, the repair was almost invisible, and Maisie looked at it with amazement.
“I cannae see it,” she said in disbelief.
Eliza found another hole, and handed Maisie the needle. “Now it’s your turn,” she told her.
She took Maisie’s hands and helped her form the tiny stitches, and when they had finished the work was almost as neat as the first piece of mending.
Maisie looked at the seam, astonished, unable to speak for a moment. Then she looked up at Eliza with a beaming smile.
“Thank ye, Milady,” she breathed.
“You did it by yourself,” Eliza replied, smiling. “And the more you practise, the better you will become. I have lost my sewing supplies, but when I get new ones I will give you some needles and thread, and we can sit and sew together. After a while, you can progress to embroidery.”
Maisie’s face was suddenly wreathed in a beaming smile that warmed Eliza’s heart. “Embroidery? Me?” she asked in disbelief. “Milady, I would never be able tae dae that!”
