Free Move Your Blooming Corpse by D. E. Ireland Page B

sister. Eliza was fortunate that Colonel Pickering had outfitted her beautifully from the moment she arrived last year at Wimpole Street for speech lessons. And because she charged an impressive fee for giving her own lessons now, Eliza had added even more expensive items to her stylish wardrobe.
    Although Clara had a difficult time keeping up with the latest fashions on her family’s small inheritance, Freddy appeared quite the dapper gentleman. Today he looked smart in a light gray suit and silk waistcoat, even if his striped blue and white Ascot tie was a bit crooked. Eliza loved the way a lock of blond hair fell over his forehead, like in the painting she’d seen of Lord Byron.
    â€œDid the wedding go off without a hitch?” she asked.
    â€œEverything was perfect!” Clara’s eyes lit up. “The bridal gown was white tulle, lace, and silk. Her bouquet was exquisite, all orange blossoms and white roses. And she wore the most adorable French-heeled pumps. The wedding breakfast wasn’t much to speak of, though.”
    â€œTell them how much you enjoyed the champagne punch.” Freddy winked at Eliza. “Clara indulged in three cups before breakfast was over, and two afterward. We were both a bit tipsy.”
    â€œThe cups were tiny,” she said with a pout. “Mother didn’t feel at all well, since the weather turned warm and humid. It rained the whole time until the wedding itself, when it finally stopped. We didn’t mind coming home early.”
    â€œOnly because it was so cramped staying at Cousin Edith’s.” Freddy tore another chunk off his bun. “There weren’t enough bedrooms, and I was forced to sleep on the parlor hearth.”
    â€œAt least you had a pallet of blankets. I rolled off that rock-hard sofa half a dozen times during the night. Not that I could sleep anyway. You snore worse than a foghorn.”
    â€œI do not snore!”
    Eliza laughed at their customary bickering. “Enough, you two.”
    Sybil cocked her head at Freddy. “I’m curious how you and Eliza met.”
    â€œOh, it was love at first sight. Professor Higgins’s mother kindly invited my family to tea this past spring. Eliza was so funny with her new small talk. I’d never met anyone like her. She told the most amusing stories, especially about some aunt who bit the bowl off a spoon when everyone thought she was dying.”
    â€œI remember that,” Jack said. “Uncle Alfred poured gin down her throat.”
    â€œWe don’t need to hear that story again.” Eliza shook her head at him. “In truth, I first saw Freddy when he bumped into me in the rain at Covent Garden and knocked over my basket of violets. He rushed off without paying, too. He still doesn’t remember I was the flower girl who sold them. Of course, I looked and spoke differently then.”
    â€œI only recall I couldn’t find a cab that night,” Freddy added.
    Sybil turned to Eliza. “Jack said you and the Professor also met that same evening. While you were selling flowers, you heard him tell everyone where they came from by listening to them speak.”
    Eliza and Higgins both smiled. “Oh, he was performing his usual tricks, amazing us all with his phonetics genius. So much so, that I came straightaway the next morning and asked to pay for lessons. I wanted to speak like a proper lady.”
    â€œAnd I was gracious enough to teach her,” Higgins said. “Pick challenged me to pass her off as a duchess at a society event. A bet I obviously won.”
    â€œWith grudging thanks for my efforts.” Eliza shook a finger at him. “Anyway, we now teach elocution here at Wimpole Street. The delightful Colonel Pickering keeps us company. He’s a true gentleman and a renowned scholar of Sanskrit.”
    â€œAnd you’ve become a real lady, Eliza,” he said with pride.
    â€œNow tell me what happened at Ascot,