The Next Day.
Eliza wakes to find her maid bringing her a plate of bread and butter along with a steaming cup of hot cocoa. She yawns and stretches her arms towards the ceiling. Her curls have flattened overnight and are hanging loosely around her face. Her maid, Cecily moves around the room tidying and talking absentmindedly, servants are the world's worst and best gossip depending on your position. Satisfied with her work Cecily bobs a small curtsy before exiting, Eliza sits up in her four-poster reaches for her mug of cocoa, tentatively she takes a small sip, it burns her lips and mouth in an instant. Placing the boiling mug on her dresser Eliza swings her snugly duvet off her legs and bring her feet to rest of the oak floor. Stifling a second yawn Eliza pads softly to her wardrobe which contains many day dresses, reaching in she grabs the nearest, an emerald green dress with cream lace and begins to dress. It was common knowledge that a woman should never dress without the assistance of a maid to do this task however Eliza thought that the simple act of putting on clothes only ever needed the person actually wearing the clothes. Glancing at herself in the full-length mirror Eliza does a small twirl in the dress and decides this is as best as it is going to be.
Hair, on the other hand, did need more work, Eliza sits down in front of her vanity and winces at the state of her hair. The curls were everywhere, sticking out at odd angles. Groaning Eliza drops her head onto the table. Why did so many set so much by such a little thing as appearance? Deciding to force her hair into what she hopes is a respectable bun Eliza rights herself and begins to place pins into her mess of hair not bothering to even attempt running a brush through this carriage crash. After a few minutes of giving up and swearing to god, she twists the mass into submission.
With her hair complete Eliza studies her face with a frown, her uncle never seemed to be pleased with her and she begins to wonder whether her face was the cause. Eliza knew she was no beauty, she did, however, have a petite nose and cupids bow mouth, her pale skin was clear of freckles or blemishes. Perhaps it was because being blonde is the "In" thing and her pitch black hair is the furthest thing from that.
Her eyes were her favourite thing about her appearance. Some might say they were too big or the colour too bright, however green eyes were the only thing that Eliza had in common with her sister, Eloise. Forcing herself to smile Eliza rises from her seat and slowly makes her way down the staircase that leads into the main hallway. The staircase winds down into a spiral and when you reach the bottom, back to the front doors, the dining room is immediately in front of you. Shivering as her bare feet touch the cold wooden floor, Eliza enters the dining room a laden with cold meats, berries and toast. Eyeing the teapot she pours herself a cup of tea, only one sugar, sighing with content as the smell of lady grey tea leaves swirl around her, she closes her eyes and appreciates the wonders of a good cup of tea.
"Miss Eliza!"
A hurried voice causes Eliza to jump out of her daydream and spill hot tea all over her left hand, scorching the surface. Placing the cup upon the table she wipes her hand within the folds of her dress and begins to blow on the angry patch of skin.
"Sorry Miss," Cecily says quietly, a hand covering her mouth in regret. Eliza smiles to let her know all is forgiven and though her hand is still hurting it has recovered ever so slightly and no longer requires attention so she turns around to see Cecily pausing nervously by the door frame, apology written across her tired face.
"Tis fine, no worries," Eliza says as she picks her tea up again and tests the temperature, a bit too hot. "What is it?"
"Your uncle sent me to fetch you." Cecily answers, "He wants a word before he goes hunting."
Oh dear, what had she done now? With a tiny groan, Eliza returns her cup to its saucer and walks over to her maid.
"Did he say what it was regarding?"
"No Miss," Cecily says, "But he didn't look best pleased."
"Where is he?" Eliza asks, breakfast will have to wait until after, inconvenient as her stomach gives a fearsome growl.
"His study Miss," Cecily says fidgeting. With a swift nod, Eliza dismisses her with a grateful smile. Cecily dashes off back to the kitchens as quick as a mouse, no doubt to begin preparations for the return of the hunting party.
Strange as it was the party did not eat any of their kills till the last evening and considering the hunt lasts three days the host's servants are responsible for feeding a group of fussy stuck up lords, meaning preparations begin at least two days in advance.
Looking longingly at the food Eliza regretfully leaves the dining room and takes the north corridor all the way to the end whereupon she stops at a simple door with a gold plate of arms: a snake coming out of a lions mouth open in a roar. Before knocking she straightens her dress, pats her hair and rights her posture into a more feminine stance.
Knock, knock.
"Come in." A deep booming voice replies, with a deep breath Eliza opens the door and slips inside.
Eliza's uncle was the older brother of her father, when she was growing up with her parents she hadn't known of his existence and via versa. After the unfortunate death of her father Eliza and her mother were deposited into the care of Benjamin Turner, who had no children or wife but was in possession of Rhyddan Manor. Benjamin was glad to have some company after the death of his soul sibling however he found his brother's child a handful which only increased when she was presented into society. Consequently, the pair rarely conversed and only did upon dire occasions including the abandonment of Eliza's mother.
Eliza's uncle's study is a beautiful ornate room with oak furnishings and always a big roaring fire in the grate. Books in several languages line the walls, when Benjamin was young he took great pleasure in touring the world and often brought back unique and splendid manuscripts.
Benjamin sits behind a claw-footed desk, in a plush armchair, smoking a cigar. Eliza likes the earthy smell of tobacco, it reminds her of her father who often lit one when saying goodnight to his daughters. Unknown to her family Eliza enjoys the odd cigar on rare occasions however it is more sentimental than the cigar itself. Benjamin himself reminded Eliza a great deal of an owl, he has great round curious eyes hidden behind thick glasses. Bushy grey eyebrows framed the eyes and were often drawn in a stern gaze.
The door shuts and Eliza stands with her back directly upon the wood, her toes creep into the rug and squeeze the fabric with apprehension. Benjamin upon noticing his niece standing ridged as the door puts down the papers and cigar in his hands and gestures to one of the straight-backed chairs on the opposite side of the desk. Eliza makes her way to the chair and slowly slips into the chair, her hands twist in her lap.
"Eliza I have heard somethings that have upset me" Benjamin surveys his niece as he leans forward, hands locked together. Silence ensues and Eliza tries not to look too guilty.
"Oh indeed?" she asks.
"News about you." Benjamin supplies, "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"
Eliza bites her lip nervously. There was a lot that she did that her uncle would not approve of but as he rarely attended social occasions there was normally no repercussions on her actions. However, he must have got wind of her arguing with Duke Harrington last eve, how on earth was she to explain this to him?
"From whom did you find out?" Eliza asks quietly, "Duke Harrington, himself I wager."
Of course, that odious man would go over her head and tell. Men and their pride!
"Not at all, the Lady Cherish informed me herself having witnessed the entire display," Benjamin replies with a small frown. Lady Cherish? The daughter of Lord Havenson?
"Oh I certainly did not see Lady Cherish, " Eliza says thoughtfully, trying to remember seeing her last night. She thought the only witnesses to her and the Duke's spat were themselves, Lady Charlotte and Lady Rosemarie.
"Well, she certainly saw you gambling at Rocheford House," Benjamin says testily.
"Wait this is about Rocheford House?" Eliza asks looking up in surprise and relief.
Thank the lord this was about Rocheford, the lesser of two evils.
"Indeed..." Benjamin narrows his eyes in suspicion. What has this troublesome girl done that he doesn't know about? Eliza smiles innocently,
Shaking his head he continues, "For a girl of your status to be gambling with men..."
"Twas only cards uncle." Eliza cuts in, trying to pacify him.
"Still it is unladylike and whoreish." He admonishes with a pointed glare.
"Whoreish?" Eliza asks stunned, had her uncle really just said such a thing?
"Only adulteresses and whores gamble with lords and rakes." Benjamin says, "I will not have you partaking in such follies."
Eliza just sits there, shook to her core. Her uncle begins his usual rant about decorum and stature as he always does after a telling off but she can't hear a single word. Of course, Eliza knew she is little eccentric and outspoken but "Whoreish"? Since when does being direct and having fun compare you to ladies of the night?
During his unheard rant, Benjamin has risen from his chair and his directing his speech with his back turned to his niece.
Slowly Eliza gets to her feet, a little unsteady.
"Uncle..." She interrupts him, mid-sentence and he turns to berate her but she talks too quickly.
"I am not a whore, nor do I create scandals that ruin you, I admit playing cards isn't typical behaviour of a lady however it was a bit of fun between friends," she says confidently, "Also I won so..., also I have never even entertained the idea of presenting myself and my family as whores so I would ask you not to make such an outrageous comparison."
Benjamin stands listening to his niece's deceleration with a glower, with a low curtsy Eliza turns and heads towards the door. Hand upon the knob, she turns around and says,
"I am sorry if I cause you pain but I cannot refrain being myself simply because you and society wish it."
Benjamin says nothing out of anger or astonishment Eliza doesn't know. Opening the door she says "Have a successful hunt Uncle." And the door swings shut on Eliza's retreating figure.