Eliza walks down the Main Street, people regularly stop and bow to her, it is apparent that it is common knowledge that her rise in a title is soon to be made. Her heels click on the pavement as she makes her way to the bookshop on the left corner on Chuchbright Street, slightly out of the bustling centre of Town. Carriages and horses rattle down the road splashing mud and cold water up the sides luckily her coat protects the many layers of skirt. Taking little care to cross the busy road Eliza runs across nearly being taken down by a carriage, the driver shakes his hand at her as she shouts her apologies while she runs in front. Safely on the other side, she recognises a group of three women standing in front of the flower shop, one who appears to be the Lady Rosemarie. On closer inspection, another is revealed as the woman who called her Elizabeth at the engagement party, the cow. Not wanting to make introductions or any sort of conversation she is about to hurry past them when she hears her own name.
"Eliza Turner, yes, did you ever find meet such an impertinent girl with no regard for high society."
Eliza slips behind the wall of the flower shop to listen.
"I found her charming and intelligent." Rosemarie offers weakly.
"Well, of course, you did dear as you are of a better match for him." The other woman says kindly.
"I find her of little beauty and no breeding at all and all her efforts in pursuit of one man, shocking on the highest level." The countess announces loudly causing passersby to turn their heads.
"Perhaps she will improve on closer acquaintance?" Lady Rosemarie says tentatively wishing to defend Eliza.
"I am in no mind to better my opinion of her, such conceited independence." Countess Birch throws her head back snootily. "I find her to be...?
"Be what?" Eliza whips around the corner and interrupts gossiping woman. "I find the rich can afford to offer such offence when they are better pleased with themselves than others though they rarely should in company."
Lady Rosemarie looks terrified at her appearance and the other woman, who Eliza presumes is Rosemarie's mother on the account of their facial similarities, looks embarrassed and shocked but the countess remains stoic and cold.
"I see, you have no worry then for your fiancé who is far above your own company?" Birch fires back.
"I believe you are trying to frighten me with your contempt and I am all in astonishment for I heard you were the most gracious of women from Jasper himself and yet I find myself disappointed."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are uncommonly ill favoured more so than I ever beheld." Eliza replies curtly, "Good day."
She strides off, her mind racing. The women watch her retreating figure with mixed expressions.
How much more gossip will she have to endure? Eliza storms down the street away from the busy shops and squares. The little bookshop comes into her sight, she climbs up the top step and pushes the door open, the smell of parchment and ink fills her nose.
"I am sorry but I am about to close." The bookkeeper, an old man with flyaway grey hair rounds a shelf of books, his back bent after many years of crouching over a ledger.
"Hello Mr Defoe," Eliza says.
"Miss Eliza, it has been a long time." The man's face lights up with joy, the wrinkles around his mouth lift up in a smile.
"Indeed, I have found myself amidst a scandal." She says.
"I admit in my small corner of town I have heard rumours of such things but I scarcely believe it," Defoe tells her.
"It is true, I am to be married, this Saturday in fact."
"Well, I never!"
"It is indeed a startling array of facts." Eliza agrees, "Would you do me the honour of attending?" She reaches inside her coat pocket and pulls out one of the white and red invitations Charlotte has had made.
"Are you quite sure?" Defoe turns the sleek paper over in his hands as if he can't process what he is holding.
"There is going to be over 100 people in attendance I wish to see at least four friendly faces."
"You do me a great honour." The bookkeeper sniffles a little, having lost his wife a few years ago and not being blessed with children he rarely left his little shop.
"Tis nothing, however, I am in seek for an early copy of Macbeth."
"Macbeth, why? You must have numerous copies." The man leads her to a dark corner of the shop.
"It's not for me but my fiancé," Eliza explains as Defoe pulls a book of the top shelf and hands her the bound volume.
"He has not read it?" He asks surprised, "Was his education lacking?"
"He has read it, however, this copy is to remind him who he is marrying."
"Because you are a murderous queen?" He jests, Eliza laughs.
"Because I am independent and self-sufficient." She explains. "How much is it?" She reaches into a side pocket to pull out a few coins.
"No charge for a bride, consider it my wedding gift to you." He says pushing the fist full of money back. "I insist."
"You are too kind," Eliza says warmly.
She says her goodbyes to Mr Defoe and exits the shop, book in hand. The streets are packed, as expected for midday making finding her back to the dress shop considerably slower than this morning. Eventually, she worms her way back to the shop where the carriage is standing, laced up cream boxes tied to the back. Eliza gives the book to one of the footmen and asks him to place it in a dress box for safe keeping. She is just about to go into Madame Olive's when a surprising voice calls her name.
"Eliza!" A young man dressed in a neat coat and breeches crosses the road eagerly waving at her in the process. He reaches her slightly out of breath and places a hand on the carriage in support.
"Eliza what a...." The man begins to speak animatedly when another voice shouts her name and to her surprise, Jasper and James walk up to her.
"Do you know these men?" The young man asks stepping in front as though to shield her. Alarm bells starting ringing in Jasper's head and the urge to throttle the man standing in front of Eliza rises up before she can talk he dives in.
"She's my fiancé." He snaps, "Who are you?"
"A fiancé? You are hilarious." The man laughs in his face. "Eliza would never marry a man like you."
She tries to talk but it seems the two opposing men have already forgotten her existence.
"A man like me?" Jasper glares.
"A man who's the only asset is his apparent wealth." The man answers.
"How dare you, boy? I should challenge you for such an insult."
"Don't call me boy,"
"People are staring," James says out of the corner of his mouth, it is true people are being to stop in the street to observe the commotion.
"Let them," Jasper growls taking a step forward, the younger man squares his shoulders and does the same.
"Henry, stand down." Eliza places her hand on his elbow. "He is my fiancé."
Henry recoils from her touch, "You are marrying this man?" He demands getting into her face.
"Yes, she is," Jasper replies smugly. Henry shakes his head in disbelief but then a cruel smile crosses his face as he turns to Jasper.
"I wouldn't be too smug," He says, "She was engaged to me first."