Page 35 of Enlightened
“I’ve suggested it to Lizzie already, but she didn’t want me to give upFlint’s. I think I’m going to have to insist, though, given recent events. The worry’s killing me. Especially now the baby’s coming.”
“You should go. Elizabeth has the income from her trust that you can rely on while you find new work.”
“I don’t like to rely on her money.”
“I thought you believed in equality between men and women,” David replied.
Euan flushed at that. “That’s just what Lizzie would say,” he admitted. Then he looked at the clock and sighed. “I have to go, but I’m going to raise this with her again this evening. Do you think you might also mention it to her before you leave? She’ll listen to you. She thinks every word that drops from your lips is perfect wisdom.”
“Well, she’s perfectly right, of course,” David answered, smiling. Euan just rolled his eyes.
Once the other man had said his farewells and departed, David rose and put away his bed. There was no point trying to sleep any longer. He might be exhausted, but the bright morning light and the pain in his hip and leg would conspire to keep him awake.
After a perfunctory wash, he dressed. He’d removed his trousers and waistcoat before going to bed so they were in reasonable order, but it was difficult to tie his wilted neckcloth in anything but the most basic of knots.
Once dressed, he checked his appearance in a cloudy mirror over the fireplace, noting that he must’ve lain oddly on his pillow because his hair—his now far-too-long hair—was sticking up at an odd angle at the back. He was trying to smooth it down with water when Elizabeth entered the parlour in a plain muslin gown and her long, brown hair about her shoulders. He’d never seen her with her hair down before, and it felt uncomfortably intimate to witness this private state of being.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning. Are you feeling better?”
She nodded, seeming embarrassed. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Don’t be. I only wish I’d considered that it might be too soon to be telling you everything your father said to me.”
“It wasn’t too soon,” she replied. “It was exactly the right time. But I’m sorry you had to witness what came after. I made you uncomfortable.”
“No, not at all. Only sorry and concerned.”
“Well, there’s no need for you feel either of those things.” She took a deep breath, then gave a slightly forced smile. “Are you having trouble with your hair? Shall I fetch you some of Euan’s pomade?”
David smiled back. “That might be wise. I look like a hedgehog. Shall I get the range going in the meantime?”
“Would you?” She sounded grateful for the reprieve from the tedious task.
She slipped away again while David went to the kitchen and began to clear out the ashes of last night’s fire, ignoring his protesting leg. This had been one of his jobs when he lived at home as a boy. First thing when he got up each morning, clearing out the kitchen fireplace for his mother. It felt strangely comforting to do it again now.
When Elizabeth came back, she’d fastened her hair in a loose knot at the back of her head and put an apron over her gown. She handed him a little blue jar, and when he pried the lid off, he was assailed by the clean, astringent scent of pine. He worked some of the paste into his hair and smoothed it down, more successfully this time, while Elizabeth put a kettle of water on the fire and began slicing bread.
She handed him a toasting fork wordlessly, and he stabbed it into a slice of bread to hold over the flames. They drew their chairs up to the fire and sat companionably, toasting their bread while the water boiled.
“Isanythingnicer than buttered toast?” Elizabeth wondered aloud once they’d begun eating. Her chin gleamed with a sheen of melted butter and her face beamed. When David chuckled, she laughed too. “I’ve become very attached to toast lately,” she admitted.
It was nice too, even with day-old bread and tea brewed a little too weak so as to eke the leaves out a little longer.
“What will you do today?” Elizabeth asked.
“I mean to visit your uncle,” he said. “I need to speak to him about moving the trust. It was his idea, so there will be no difficulty, but I want to ask if he has any recommendations as to who else might take it on.” He paused, then added, “Of course, it depends where you intend to settle. I should place it with a solicitor situated close to where you will be.”
She frowned at that and looked up. “What do you mean? We are settled here.”
David paused. “But is that wise?” he asked. “Kinnell has already been looking for you in London. Perhaps a fresh start in another city or town would be prudent.”
“London is a big place,” she said. “And just because Alasdair tracked down Uncle Charles doesn’t mean he knows anything of my whereabouts. He could simply have discovered the family connection. It wouldn’t be difficult. I’ve not been back to Uncle Charles’s offices since he wrote to me to warn me to stay away, and once you’ve moved the trust to a solicitor unconnected to me, that should be the last of the matter.”
Frowning, David said, “He’s not going to stop looking for you. Having discovered your uncle, he might easily intensify his efforts in London. It’s much less likely that he’d think to try Bristol or York or Manchester.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose so. But Euan is so well established atFlint’s—”