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Becoming Eliza By DreamWeaver The flash of lightning caught me by surprise, and the almost immediate report of thunder made me jump. The forecast had mentioned possible thunderstorms, but there had been no rumbles of thunder in the distance for warning. I started to pick up my pace, hoping I could manage the half mile or so back to my apartment building before the downpour, but the wind quickly picked up, more flashes of lightning followed, and huge gobs of rain began to spatter on the pavement around me. I ducked into an inviting doorway. I glanced up and down the street, lined with shops on both sides, and was surprised to see that no one else had been caught out in the rain. To my left was the main display window of the shop in which I had taken shelter. It was a bridal shop. The gowns on display were magnificent, but the one that caught my eye was the one closest to me. It looked like it hailed from the nineteenth century, a prairie-style gown with a high collar and a plunging V- neckline covered with lace and bordered on both sides with layers of lace; a tight bodice and then full, layered skirts and a lace-trimmed apron with two large bows in front. For a moment, I imagined a young woman wearing it, her hair up with streams of tight curls trailing down. "May I help you?" The voice right behind me made me jump; I hadn't heard the door open. A cadaverously thin woman with olive skin and lustrous dark brown hair with red highlights and large, dark eyes gave me a cautious smile. "I just ducked into your doorway to get out of the rain," I said. Her smile grew warmer. "Would you like to come in?" I could see the shop was empty. I accepted with thanks and followed her inside. The rain was now falling in torrents. There were many more gowns on display inside, but none to match the lovely antique one in the window. "May I offer you a cup of tea?" I told her I didn't want to be any trouble but she assured me it was no trouble and disappeared behind a thick curtain to the rear of the shop. I was standing next to a large oak desk that held a computer on one side and a stack of file folders on the other. Arrayed across the front were several porcelain figurines of peasant farmers at work, and the detail was amazing. She emerged from the curtain holding a large, old fashioned samovar from which she poured hot tea into two cups. "Here you are, Mister...?" "Nolan. Henry Nolan." "And I am Elena. I noticed when I first saw you that you were admiring that old dress in the window." I told her it was the loveliest dress I had ever seen. "You are too kind," she said. I asked her to whom it had belonged and she laughed and replied, "I made it." She had placed it in the window hoping that it would be a curiosity and draw customers into her shop. "But no one has ever even commented on that old style gown." "That's a shame. I sometimes think that we are in such a hurry to move forward that we are too eager to cast aside what is lovely and good." Her smile grew warmer. "You are a man of feeling. Your wife is a lucky woman." I told her as gently as I could that I was not and never had been married. Moreover, I was the only child of two only children. "You mean you have no one?" she asked, stunned. I shrugged. Some things we simply have to accept. She excused herself and walked toward the front of the store. I busied myself studying further the fine figurines on her desk. They all seemed focused on their tasks in a timeless sort of way, determined. When she returned, she had a box tucked under her arm. It was tied with baby blue ribbon. "I want you to have this," she said. "Please accept it. I am sure you will put it to good use." I started to ask what it was, but she told me she had to close up and hustled me out of the store. As soon as I stepped outside, the lights in the window and inside the shop went out. The rain had stopped but there were still distant flashes of lightning and soft rumblings of thunder, so I hurried home. Once in my apartment, I laid the box on the kitchen table and pulled my soggy tee shirt off. I thought it strange that I could still taste the tea. Curiosity pulled me to the box. I was very careful as I untied the ribbon. For some reason, I was overwhelmed with anxiety not to cut it or snap it. The box felt heavier and bulkier than I remembered it on the walk home. When the cover came off, the first thing I saw was a pair of white women's boots, ankle high, with buttons running almost the full length from the toe to the ankle and a one-inch Queen Ann heel. Underneath them was a pair of white stockings and matching garters, a corset, a pair of bloomers, full petticoat and the gown I had admired. At the bottom of the box was handwritten note: "Sometimes, you really must listen to your heart." I was repelled. I hadn't even entertained the idea of wearing women's clothing since that terrible night when I was fourteen and my father had walked in on me when I was wearing my mother's black cocktail dress, black nylons and black suede pumps. His thorough beating of me, in which he had broken my collar bone, had been enough to convince me never consider it again. I stuffed everything back in the box and left it on the table. I felt cold, so I took a hot shower. When I got out of the shower and dried off, I started feeling queasy in the stomach. I got into bed and tried to read, but I felt worse by the minute. I turned the light off and finally fell asleep. # It wasn't yet dawn when a strange dream woke me. I dreamed that a horse- drawn carriage was passing under my window. The sound of hooves on pavement sounded convincingly real. And then I realized they were real. I started to pick my head off the pillow, but I immediately felt dizzy and had to lay back down. My stomach felt worse and my whole body seemed to ache. I prayed it wasn't the flu and drifted back off to sleep. Then next time I awoke, it was light. This time the sound of hooves in the street was unmistakable. There were other sounds, too, like steel wheels on rails and the chuffing of a steam engine. I still felt awful, but I decided I needed to get up and see what was going on. I forced my eyes open and got my first big surprise - there was a lace canopy atop my bed. Not only that, I was wearing a long, soft nightgown; my pillow was stuffed with down and the pillowcase was trimmed in lace. I had very long hair. And breasts. With some effort, I pulled myself up to a sitting position. This wasn't my room. It wasn't my apartment. The walls were dark wood. Gaslight sconces were mounted above either end of the headboard, and on the other side of the room. In the corner stood a mahogany secretary, with books arrayed behind the glass doors and the desk top in the open position. There was a small oil lamp on the desk. I craned my neck slightly, my head still throbbing, trying to gaze out the window. I could only see greenery beyond, what appeared to be trees. A vanity stood nearby - I had very long, brown hair, badly tousled, a small nose, and blue eyes. I appeared to be in my early to mid-twenties. The bedroom door opened and a maidservant about my age walked in. Sometimes, you have to listen to your heart. My heart was telling me I had to make sure I didn't sound insane. "Oh, you're up, Madam!" she said. "Doctor Bentley will be ever so pleased. How are you feeling this morning?" "I have a terrible headache and I'm afraid I'm somewhat disoriented." She looked at me quizzically and I added, "I feel rather dizzy and I can't remember anything." The girl came over and helped me into a pink robe. "Well, I'm not surprised. You've been quite ill, Madam, and Dr. Bentley left strict orders that you were to remain in bed. You're also to try and eat something." I tried not to look too doubtful. "Dr. Bentley's...request, not mine," she added in haste. Why was she so tentative around me? "What does the good doctor think I have?" The girl frowned. "He's not sure. He wanted to bleed you but the master forbade it before he left. He was quite adamant about it." The master? So, I was a married woman. I was finding this more intriguing by the moment. "What can't you remember?" the girl asked. Not wanting to sound insane, I said, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I can't remember your name." "I'm Daisy, head housemaid. Well, as of now, I'm on trial as your lady's maid, but I'm still managing in the house." I told her that didn't seem fair, and she looked stunned. "Oh, it's perfectly satisfactory, Madam!" Again, I had the sense she was very nervous around me. "You said you're on trial," I said. "What happened to my last lady's maid?" She looked very upset. "Um...she left, Madam." "Did we terminate her employment?" "I'm not sure, Madam. They told us she left, that was all. We heard she got married and moved to Philadelphia." Her voice was starting to crack. "What was her name?" She replied that it was Lucy. It rang a very distant bell. In the meantime, nature was calling. There was a bedpan nearby and Daisy unabashedly helped me with it. I wondered if we had indoor plumbing. As soon as I lifted my nightgown, I realized that there was something else to get used to. I had a momentary qualm about what might happen on my next menstrual cycle, but decided to take things one at a time. "You know," she said as she went to rinse out the bedpan, which confirmed that we did, indeed, have indoor plumbing, "if you really want to try to remember, why don't you read through your journals? You wrote in them every day until you became ill. It might all come back to you after a couple of pages. "Would Madam like her breakfast, now?" The need to know was outweighing my need to eat, and I indicated the secretary. She got that panicked look again. "I don't know what has gone on in the past," I said, afraid I was sounding like a crazy woman, "but this morning, I feel a need to put you at ease. You are a very sweet girl, and I'm glad you're my maid, so why don't we start fresh? What is it that you're afraid of?" She stared at the floor. "Madam really doesn't remember?" she asked. I assured her I didn't. "Well, Madam has sometimes given orders, only to contradict them later and scold us for following the original ones." I got back into bed. "Then here is what I will do. I will have the lovely breakfast you have brought me, or as much as I can manage. Afterward, you will assist me over to the secretary so that I can recover what memory I can." She nodded happily and brought in a tray with legs to support it. She lifted a metal cover from the plate - eggs and bacon, toast. There was a small glass of juice and a cup of coffee. "Oh, Daisy, I'm not sure I'm up to all this." "Yes, Madam. But the doctor did insist." "A deal is a deal," I sighed. She left as I started in. To my great surprise, I finished all but one half a piece of toast. When Daisy came back, she was genuinely happy. I sat up and lowered my feet to the floor. The ache in my head started to dissipate. She slipped her arm around me as I stood up, and the ache in my head came surging back. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she said. "Perhaps not, but I really need to get out of this bed. How long have I been confined?" It had been a week. We tried again. This time, I made it to my feet. There was strength in her arms as she guided me across the room. Once seated, I found I could turn and look out the window without too much difficulty. We were on the second floor, and below me, partially obscured by trees, was a small rectangular park surrounded on all sides by lovely brownstones. "Gramercy Park," I said. "You remembered that!" she said, happy. I didn't tell her that the Gramercy Park I knew was surrounded by cars and trucks, and a bus ran along what I now realized was our street. Because as I looked out, I saw carriages and carts, all drawn by horses. Men wore suits, hats and silk cravats and the women wore bustle dresses and shaded themselves with parasols. I thought back to the gown Elena had given me. No, it couldn't be. "Daisy, would you be so kind as to bring me a fresh cup of coffee?" She said she would and she took the breakfast tray away. "I'm not losing my mind," I said to myself after she'd gone. The journals were in the bottom right hand drawer of the secretary, the most recent one on top. The last entry had been made on April 26, 1886. I could do no more than stare at the date. The door opened. "Here you are, Madam, just freshly perked." "Thank you so much, Daisy. Tell me, where is the master?" "He's in Chicago, Madam, on business. He's due home Friday on the afternoon train. Oh, and this arrived for you a short while ago." She handed me an envelope. "Thank you, Daisy." "Shall I check on you in a half hour, Madam?" I started to argue but then saw the look on her face. I told her a half hour would be fine. As she left, I opened the envelope, which was addressed to Mrs. Eliza Hendrickson. "My dear Eliza, I know your health has been poor, but I do hope you and Lucas will be able to join us at our post-concert reception Saturday evening, as well as at the concert itself, which as you know will be at the Metropolitan Concert Hall. Regards, Agatha Ramage." "Eliza Hendrickson," I said aloud. It felt comforting and familiar. I started browsing through Eliza's journal entries. The most recent ones dealt mostly with how poorly she had been feeling. I turned toward the front of the volume, entries made at the beginning of the year. "January 2nd, 1886 - Lucas is off on his business travels again, leaving me to rot in this awful house. Alas, this time I will have something to amuse me. Calvin Bolton, who has been ever so sweet and attentive, 'forgot' that Lucas was away and came to visit. "I gave him tea. Nothing happened, of course, as that harridan of a maid, Lucy, kept intruding. I really must do something about her. "But nothing can dim my excitement at Calvin's attentions. I am, I must admit, a shameful flirt, and there is nothing so amusing as to see a grown man reduced to animal hunger by a few coy smiles, delicate touches and discreet innuendoes." I turned several pages. "January 18th, 1886 - The dinner party at the Livingstons' had all the potential joy of a three hour dissertation on moral virtue, but it was so crowded and hectic, and Lucas was so involved in his business discussions that I was able to entertain Calvin's increasingly venturous overtures. I of course feigned shock when he had the nerve to raise his hand to my bosom, but I'm afraid I could not completely mask my delight, which was quite real." The door opened. "How are we feeling, Madam?" Daisy asked. I told her I was feeling a bit better and thought that the reading was helping, giving me something to focus on. "Is it all coming back to you?" she asked, and I nodded. She left me and I returned to my reading. "March 1st, 1886 - I cannot tolerate Lucy another moment. I wanted to fire her, but of course Lucas had to interfere. He said she was only 'looking after her mistress', but I know what she was really doing. "It was about Calvin, of course. And if I want to take a lover, what business is it of any stupid maid's? She doesn't work for my husband, she works for me. But not for long." I turned the page. "March 5th, 1886 - Ha! See how she likes this! We have a dinner for Mr. Roosevelt tonight - he is running for mayor - and I have been driving Lucy mad all day with demands and contradictions. A few more and she will surely make a mistake for which I can fire her!" And then I found this. "March 6th, 1886 - The dinner for Mr. Roosevelt was more entertaining than I expected. He is a little too exuberant for my taste, and he clearly has a very high opinion of himself. He also seems a little too concerned about righteousness. I fear he would be a bit much as mayor. Naturally, Lucas likes him. "But there is a kind of musky, masculine quality to the man that I can't help but admire, and I found myself wondering what kind of lover he might be. Better than Calvin, probably, but since I haven't yet sampled Calvin's wares, I really can't be sure. Finally, there was this. "March 12th, 1886 - Lucy is showing more staying power than I expected, having made sure she did not make a gross error. But I can see my campaign is wearing her down. Cavendish told me she burst into tears the other night for no reason. "Meanwhile, Lucas continues to sleep in his study. Good." I decided to return to the weeks before she - I - became ill. "April 12th, 1886 - Lucy has resigned, agreeing to a marriage proposal and getting out as fast as she could. Good riddance! I have named that dimwit Daisy as my maid on trial. I will keep her on as long as it amuses me. "What's more, Lucas will be in Chicago the first week in May, and I will at last be able to take Calvin to my bed. What raptures await me, I can only dream." I closed the journal in disgust. The household books were in a cubbyhole in front of me. I took them out. As I opened the first one, it listed everyone on the household staff - Mr. Marcus Cavendish, butler/valet; Mrs. Daphne Gilbert, cook; Daisy Miller, head housemaid; Angus Coleman, footman; Jason Pierce, groom; Colleen O'Brien, housemaid; Susan McNally, housemaid; Beatrice McManus, kitchen maid. The door opened and Daisy came in with a housemaid. Daisy asked, "Is it all right if Susan tidies the room, Madam?" I said it was. They both worked quickly, and when they'd finished I thanked them. They exchanged surprised looks. "Pleasure, Madam," Daisy said. "Yes, Madam," Susan said, and curtseyed. After they'd left, I stood up. The dizziness was gone, and the headache nearly so. I walked over to the window and gazed down on Gramercy Park. Listen to your heart. At the moment, the only thing I could hear was the elevated train on Third Avenue and the clip-clop of hooves on the street below. It was a lovely spring day, and the blooming trees in the park helped mask the scent of the city, but did not blot it out. And it was the scent of the city that focused me on who and where I was. Somehow, I was a young, attractive married woman in 1886 with a hardworking husband from whom I had become estranged. And yet, in my heart, I suddenly wanted to be with him. I couldn't because he was in Chicago. I gasped. May, 1886. Chicago. "Oh, my God," I whispered. I made my way over to the handle on the wall next to the bed and rang. A couple of minutes later, Daisy came in. "Oh, you're up!" she said, smiling. "Are you all right?" "Yes, fine. Daisy, what day is today?" "Monday, Madam." "May the third?" "That's right." "Is there any way I can get a message to the master in Chicago?" She looked at me in alarm. "Well, yes there is, Madam. Before he left, he said that the company could telegraph a message to him at the Chicago office. He arranged it in the event that something...happened." I realized she meant with me. I asked her to get the butler while I sat down at the secretary, took up a fountain pen and my personalized stationery. My heart was telling me that Eliza had been on the brink of throwing away something wonderful, and that I had been given the opportunity to save it. I wrote my note in a lovely script, the same I had seen in the journals. "Madam sent for me?" Cavendish said as he entered. Eliza might have missed the tone of rebuke, but I didn't. I made a conscious effort not to react. "Yes, Cavendish, and thank you for coming so quickly. I'm very sorry for interrupting your workday but I have an urgent message to send to the master. I need you to take this to his office and have them telegraph it to him in Chicago." "With all due respect, Madam, I'm sure Angus could handle such a task." I smiled as warmly as I knew how. "I'm sure he could. However, the message itself is very personal as well as urgent, and I need to know he has received it. I know that you will know exactly who should receive it at the company to assure that he does." He gave me an appraising glance. "I see. Well, Madam, I shall do my very best for you." "Thank you, Cavendish, I knew I could rely on you." # I spent the rest of the day reading Eliza's journals, as well as some correspondence that she had received. Each time I read of some new person, a recollection of Eliza's formed in my mind. When Angus came in to inform me that Cavendish had returned and my message had been sent, he already seemed familiar to me. It was after six when Angus returned to tell me the company had sent a messenger over. Lucas had received my message and was on his way home, his train due to arrive at Grand Central Depot Wednesday morning. After he left, I tried not to cry. I still felt weak, but not as much. As night came on and the streets were lit by gaslight, I was fearful of what to do next. Part of me was afraid that all of this had been a dream, and that if I went to sleep, I might wake up in my old life. I sat at the secretary into the early hours of the morning, reading through the rest of Eliza's journals. When it was finally too much for me to keep my eyes open, I turned down the gaslights and got into bed. Just before drifting off to sleep, I uttered a prayer. # Eliza was sixteen, the only child of a wealthy couple. Her father owned one of the new fashionable stores in the wrought iron buildings on Broadway above Fourteenth Street. A voracious reader, she caused her mother endless despair, despite her beauty, that she would ever mingle in society. Mother and daughter were in their carriage, returning to the house on Washington Square, when they were forced to detour into the neighborhood known as Five Points. Eliza was appalled at the squalor. Children ran on the street in rags, some barefoot. "Mother, what is this place?" she asked. "Bevins!" Her mother snapped to the groom. "How dare you drag us into this awful slum! Get us out immediately!" "Sorry, Madam! Couldn't be helped. It's the work on the new elevated train line!" The groom turned the carriage down a narrow side street, with filthy tenement housing crowding in on either side. "Mother!" Eliza gasped. "This is dreadful! How can people live this way?" "We all have our stations in life. Be thankful for yours." At dinner that evening, she found she had no appetite. Her father asked if she was ill. "Just give my dinner to those poor children!" she snapped. Her mother heaved an impatient sigh, and her father looked at her quizzically. "That idiot groom dragged us through a slum on our way home from shopping downtown today," she snapped. "Now, Eliza is all upset." "My dear," he said, patting Eliza's hand, "you must not trouble yourself. The poor will always be with us, many of them indolent and lazy, others merely stupid. Those of us with wits about us make a good life for ourselves, as the Lord intended us to." Blackness...and then... Eliza was eighteen, at a ball, young men buzzing all around her. One in particular, William Bynes, was most dashing and when they danced, she could not take her eyes off him for a moment. Suddenly, there was no one else at the ball but William. He escorted her out to the balcony, overlooking a small park. He was in the middle of telling her how beautiful she was, when he stopped. Down in the street, a constable was chasing away a man in rags. "It's been eight years since the panic," William said, "and still the common people suffer. We wealthy, and the governments we control, brought the panic on, ourselves. Yet we've recovered and are back to reaping our profits, while those with so little to start with continue to starve." In that moment, she knew she would marry him. Blackness...and then... Eliza was nineteen, seated on an uncomfortable upholstered chair in a large sitting room, dressed in black although she was not actually a member of the Bynes family. But she had accepted William's proposal of marriage, to the delight of his parents if not hers. She hardly acknowledged the expressions of sympathy from those around her. "Do they know who was responsible?" she heard someone ask. "They suspect labor agitators," William's father replied. "The very people William championed, responsible for his death." She heard her own father's voice: "He should have known better. We should all know better. There is only one place for the laborer - under our thumb! They will kill us any chance they get, and care not whatever efforts we expend on their behalf." Blackness...and then... Eliza was twenty one, sitting in front of a vanity while her mother fussed over her. "Of course you're making the right choice," her mother said as she made sure her hair was just right. "Lucas is mild-mannered enough that you will be able to get along just grand, and at the same time ambitious enough to be successful and keep you in the comforts you deserve." "But I'm not sure I..." "Hush, girl! Love comes. You've made a very good match, and with comforts come happiness. Now, stand up and let's get a look at you." Eliza stood and stared in the full length mirror. "You will take his breath away," her mother said. Eliza had to admit that the gown was quite flattering, a lovely prairie-style with a high collar and a plunging V-neckline covered with lace and bordered on both sides with layers of lace; a tight bodice and then full, layered skirts and a lace-trimmed apron with two large bows in front... I awoke with a start. # Daisy didn't wake me until nine, and I was grateful for the sleep. Eliza's memories were stronger, clearer. More of her life was a part of me. I had Daisy do my hair, which was a terrible mess and which hadn't been brushed for several days. I winced as she brushed out the knots, but once she had, I realized how lovely it looked. She tied it back with a ribbon. A baby blue ribbon. "Where did you get that, Daisy?" I asked. "I just picked it up from your vanity, Madam. Don't you like it?" I told her I liked it very much. "And may I suggest a simple day dress?" she said. "Nice enough so that you don't feel bedridden, but not so much trouble - no bustle or anything elaborate. "Thank you, Daisy." After she finished helping me dress, I went downstairs to take my breakfast in the dining room. The house was lovely as I came down the stairway into a large, central foyer. The front parlor was on one side and the dining room on the other. There was a large painting over the sideboard, which I recognized as Lucas' father. I recalled that while his mother had not been keen about our marriage, his father had admired me rather more than a father-in-law should. Both had grown somewhat distant, partly because of Eliza's hostility, and partly because of our failure thus far to produce children. Taking my breakfast alone and being waited on by Angus and Colleen felt completely natural to me. With each passing hour, I felt more and more like Eliza, and I was loving it. My first fear had been allayed - apparently, I was here to stay; now, I worried about what turns my life would take. "Oh, Madam," Angus said as I prepared to withdraw to the parlor. "Mrs. Gilbert wanted me to tell you how pleased she is that you're up and around again." "Thank you, Angus. That's very sweet of her." "Yes, Madam. She also asked if you wanted to hold dinner until the master arrived this evening, and if you were expecting any guests." "Not to wait dinner for the master would be unthinkable, Angus, and it will just be the two of us." "Very good, Madam." The day was gloomy and threatening, so although I was longing to walk in the park, I decided that today was not the day for it. There were some letters for me, and so I decided to tend to them - a letter from the Children's Aid Society inviting me to a luncheon, which I immediately decided to accept, one from another charity collecting old clothes, and a third from a group supporting women's suffrage. At four o'clock, I rang for Daisy. "What time is the master's train due in?" I asked her. "Mr. Cavendish said it would be in at 4:30, and he's sending Mr. Pierce up to the depot to meet him." "Good. I want to change for dinner." "Very good, Madam!" She took her time, redoing my hair, tightening my corset, helping me with my stockings, garters, bustle, petticoat, corset cover and finally a royal blue dress and clean, new boots. "When the master arrives, please tell him I am in my room and would very much like to see him here." "Yes, Madam." As she left, I sat down at the secretary, suddenly afraid. What if Lucas had decided that he no longer wanted me? It was a little after five when I heard the faint sounds of commotion down in the hall. Part of me wanted to run to him and throw my arms around him. But I knew our recent history had been so difficult, so painful, that it would be ridiculous to do so. Please let me show you I can be a good wife. The door opened. "Darling, I'm so glad you're better!" he said. He was older than I, not quite thirty. His impeccable suit was a little sooty from traveling, and the faint odor of dust from the streets was unmistakable. He was still dashing, still handsome. I flew into his arms. As he tightened his grip on me and held me, I uttered a silent prayer of thanks. "How on earth did you know?" he asked. "Know what?" "About the riots? I learned just as I got off the train, there was a terrible riot in Haymarket Square yesterday, shortly after my train left. It was just a block from my hotel. They fear the worst tonight." I hugged him again, clinging to him as if to life itself. "I had a terrible premonition, Lucas. I was overwhelmed with fear for you!" "But you've never paid attention to such things before." I told him I had never felt anything so strongly before. He looked uncertain. I knew he was trying to assess me. I asked him to sit down next to me on the bed. "I have been quite dreadful, I'm afraid," I said. He started to protest but I stopped him. "I have. I've abused the servants, been horrid to you and made a fool of myself in front of all New York Society." He drew me closer and held me, kissing my head. "I still love you," he said. But my heart could hear the unasked question, the one he needed answered. "I've never been untrue to you, my darling," I said. "I have flirted, but nothing more. I swear it." He held me more tightly. His chest heaved slightly. I felt his tears in my hair. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm so very, very sorry." # He held my hand as we went downstairs. We went into the parlor and he poured us each a glass of sherry. We talked a little about the Haymarket riot. "It's all about organized labor, of course," he said. "But aren't they simply demanding an eight hour workday? That hardly seems like an outrageous demand." He studied me carefully. "You've changed," he said. There was no accusation in his voice. "I think your illness really shook you." "Perhaps. We won't talk about it further if it upsets you." He smiled, a warm and tender smile, the kind he had won me with. I changed the subject to social events, like the concert and to the Ramage reception afterward. He agreed we should attend both. We enjoyed a lovely dinner together, played a game of checkers in the parlor after dinner while he enjoyed a whiskey and soda, and continued to make small talk. I realized how much I loved him. I was disappointed when he said he was turning in. "I'll be up very early in the morning, darling, don't want to wake you. You sleep in, make sure you're fully recovered before our social exertions this weekend." The next morning, Daisy helped me dress - a day dress, deep forest green, with a moderately sized bustle. The ankle boots I wore were white with buttons off center and a little heel. I came downstairs, nodding to Colleen and Susan as they dusted in the main hallway. A light breakfast was already awaiting me in the dining room, and Angus waited on me. When I had finished, I asked Angus to tell Cavendish that I wanted to see him in the parlor. "Yes, Madam?" he asked as he came in. "Cavendish, I think we should make Daisy's appointment as my lady's maid permanent. Do you agree?" "Whatever Madam wishes, of course." I decided that this had to be resolved. "Very well, Cavendish, I wish it. Do you think that either Colleen or Susan would be up to the position of head housemaid?" "With all respect, Madam, no, I do not. They are both good girls and they work hard, but the judgment is not there." "Good. Neither do I. Please contact the agency and I will begin interviewing candidates as soon as possible. In the meantime, Daisy will continue to do double duty, but I would like her to delegate more tasks than she is currently." "Very good, Madam." He started to leave, but I called him back. "Please sit down," I said. He was stunned at this violation of protocol, so I laughed and said, "All right, I'll stand up. "I want to apologize, Cavendish. You have served our family, and particularly, my husband, loyally and well. I have been very unfair to you and to the staff for reasons that I can't go into, but which I hope you will be able to forgive. "I have made my apologies to the master and now I wish to make them to you, and I would appreciate it if you would relay them to the staff. You are all very good and capable people, and I want you all to know you are very much appreciated." He could only stare at me. "Yes, Madam," he said at last. "And on behalf of the staff, I want to thank you." "Is Mr. Pierce engaged for the afternoon? No? Very well, I will require his services after lunch. I will also require Angus to run a short errand for me." # The note to Calvin was short, almost terse. I apologized for any behavior on my part that might have given him false impressions, but that as a married woman I could not see him again except in the presence of my husband. I gave the note to Angus and told him he was not to wait for an answer. I was not surprised that we had such a well-appointed carriage, but I was pleased to enjoy its comfort. I was just beginning to realize how successful my husband really was. And because of that, I also realized how painful Eliza's behavior had been to him. I had Pierce drive me over to the Ramage home, a stately house on 38th Street. I knew that Eliza had nagged Lucas about buying a home further north, but now was glad that he'd resisted. While Ramage home was impressive, the dust of ongoing construction just to the north was not. Agatha was a matronly woman in her mid-forties, and she gasped when she saw me. "That dress is so becoming, Eliza! You look ravishing!" she said. "And fully recovered, I hope?" "I certainly hope so." She invited me in. Her husband, Matthew, was a senior executive in Lucas' firm. I wasn't surprised to learn that she had heard about my urgent message to him in Chicago. "You may have saved his life," she said. Then she gave me an appraising look, and I realized that she knew a great deal about a great many things. "I am so glad," she added, "because I remember how happy he was when you were first married." I put down my teacup. "I behaved foolishly, and badly." "Perhaps your illness put everything in perspective." I nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think it did. And that's why I'm here. I need you to tell me how I can best help Lucas." The first thing was that we could attend the concert and the reception afterward. Theodore Roosevelt would be on the guest list, as would a number of other prominent New Yorkers. "Lucas is very well respected, particularly within the firm. Matthew says he may rise to be president of the firm one day. You can be more help than you know. "I think you can be an astute and accomplished hostess. That doesn't just mean hosting social events; it also means being a keen observer of people, recognizing those who can help as well as those who can hinder. And, of course, letting Lucas know." She took a sip of tea. "There is one other thing, but it is so obvious I won't insult you by mentioning it." She laughed when I blushed. "Perhaps we can have tea together from time to time to discuss matters," she added. I told her that would be delightful. "Oh," she said as I was getting ready to leave, "I thought I'd let you in on a little secret. Mr. Roosevelt is engaged." "But he's only widowed a year!" "That's why it's a secret," she said with a smirk. # We shared a lovely dinner that night. I told Lucas that I had visited Agatha and that Mr. Roosevelt would be at the reception Saturday night. He gave me an appraising look. "You didn't seem to care too much for him, as I recall," he said. "I may not have cared for him at first, but I like what he stands for. I'm not sure if he'd make a good mayor, but he is a good man and I would support him. And I'll help you anyway I can." He worked quite late most weeknights, and although I understood this, as well as the fact that he continued to sleep in his study out of consideration for me, it still hurt me that we were sleeping apart. By Friday night, I could no longer bear it. "You're not working tonight, are you?" I asked. I think he was about to respond that he was, but he heard my voice and he stopped and smiled. "No, my dearest. We'll spend the evening together." We repaired to the parlor after dinner. He knew I was interested in the mayoral race, but he also wanted to talk about what had happened in Chicago that week. "They insist that Communist agitators were responsible," he said. I didn't say anything at first, but then I felt I had to. "I think we must be very careful," I said. "Communism only has attraction for workers when they feel ill used by capitalism. And I think we need to think very carefully about what Mr. Marx wrote, not because he wrote it, but because of what drove him to write it." He started chuckling. "My dear, I have so painfully underestimated you! You sound exactly like Mr. Roosevelt." "Oh, my! I shudder to think where that might lead!" He sat down next to me and held me. I felt like a new bride, as in a way I was. More and more of Eliza was seeping into my feelings, including her desires. I kissed his neck. His scent filled me. I didn't think about what or who I had been, I only thought about him being my husband. He kissed my lips. I melted into his arms. Cavendish cleared his throat before he entered the room. "I beg your pardon, Sir, Madam, but although it was a warm day, it has gotten quite cool. I wondered if you wanted Angus to make up the fire." Lucas glanced down at me. I shook my head. "No, thank you, Cavendish. I think we'll be content to make our own heat." Cavendish looked shocked. "Very good, Sir." He left quickly. "You scandalized him!" I said, giggling. He looked quite proud of himself. I grew serious. "Please come back to my bed. I need to be your wife again, in every way." He held me. "Does this mean you've changed your mind about children?" he asked. "Yes." "But you had said..." "I was a fool! Please don't taunt me with it." He stood up and took my hand, pulling me up as well. "Come to bed." We saw Daisy in the hallway, and I took her aside and told her quietly that we were retiring for the evening. "The master wishes to be awakened at eight," I said. Daisy's grin was so broad, I thought her face would burst. Lucas gave me the chance to get ready for bed first, and then he came in. I had the coverlet pulled up to my chin when he got into bed in his nightshirt, and even in the dark, he got a glimpse of me under the covers. He took me immediately into his arms. As he kissed me, I pulled him on top of me, glad of my decision to wear nothing to bed. Soon, I could feel his hardness against my thigh as he kissed and nuzzled my breasts. Eliza was an eager lover, but not very experienced. I drew upon my recollections of twenty first century pornography to help her along, toned down so as not to shock my husband. His member began prodding at me, exciting me. I reached down and began to tease him. "Don't," he whispered. "You'll rush it." "I know you better than that, my love." I teased him gently until I could feel him starting to dribble his wetness. By now, his loving kisses and licks of my breasts had me dripping wet. "I love you, my darling!" I sighed, emphasizing it with a playful squeeze. He mounted me, and I cried out as he slid inside me. "Are you all right?" I had already assured him that I was when I realized he always asked me this, going back to our wedding night when he had hurt me most frightfully. I thrust up against him, wanting him as far inside me as I could get him. The second time, he thrust forward as well and he brushed up fully against me where I wanted it the most. We began to rock back and forth, in and out, up and down his manhood I slid. Our breathing grew harder, faster. I only wanted him more. I needed him. I heard his urgency. I heard mine. We were one. # "Madam," Daisy whispered. "It's eight o'clock." My eyes flew open. Was I covered? Was Lucas? The coverlet was up near my shoulders, and Daisy could see I was not wearing anything. But in our lovemaking I had removed Lucas' nightshirt and we had fallen asleep afterward in each other's arms. The coverlet was halfway between his shoulders and his waist, and so there could be no doubt. Daisy was blushing. "Thank you, Daisy," I whispered. "I'll wake up the master. When he goes to his study to dress, I'll ring for you." She nodded. She was still blushing as she hurried out of the room. I threw the coverlet completely aside. Lucas wasn't muscular, but he was trim. Just gazing down at him filled me with desire. He was lying on his side, facing me. His member was hard. Just how brazen was I willing to be? I leaned over and planted a long, luscious kiss on it. I gave it a teasing little lick and he started to moan. I kissed it a second time and he sprang to full wakefulness. "What are you doing?!" "I just had an urge to kiss you...there. Why? Did I do something wrong?" He sat up and then froze, drinking me in with his eyes. His member, which had started to soften, sprang back to full hardness. "No...not exactly," he said. I gave him as innocent a look as I could manage. This was uncharted territory, even for Eliza. "Darling, only a certain kind of woman would do that." "A woman who desperately loves her husband?" "That's not what I mean." "It's what I mean. Last night was a miracle, one I don't want to end. I want to please you." Our eyes locked. "If you really don't want me to do that, I won't." I waited while he thought what that meant. Then I let my face break into a wicked little grin. "But, if you really do want me to try, I will." Whatever he might have said was lost. His erection, rock hard, was speaking volumes. I leaned over and kissed it. Then I started running my tongue very slowly up and down the shaft. Already, he was moaning. "Let me know if I hurt you or do something wrong," I said. "I've never done anything like this before." I went back to licking and kissing it. He started moaning more persistently, but then he pulled me up to him. He kissed my nipples and teased them with his tongue. He pulled me hard against him and soon we were smothering each other with wonton kisses and licks. I went to resume my tentative oral ministrations. "Eliza," he said. "Please don't." My heart sank. "Please let me love you instead." I leapt into his arms. He slid into me almost immediately. When I looked up, he was gazing down at me with the most loving expression. We had never made love in the morning, not even when we were first married. He collapsed on me afterward, his weight keeping me so aroused I had a small second climax. He began kissing me ever so gently. I let him go only with the greatest reluctance, and half way to the door connecting our rooms, he turned back and we held each other one last time. "I love you, Eliza!" he whispered. "I love you, Lucas," I replied. "Forever." After he left, I twirled and swayed my way, still completely naked, over to ring for Daisy. She quickly realized what Lucas and I had done and seemed even more scandalized, and I had to laugh. After all, there was no more intimate relationship between servant and served than that between a lady and her maid. "Madam," she said, blushing anew, "when you first decided to give me the opportunity of being your lady's maid, one of your reasons was that..." She froze, unable to decide how to word it. "That since my husband and I did not sleep together, it would not be so uncomfortable for you, a relatively young girl serving a married woman. But, Daisy, I was a fool, not just because I was so ready to forego such an important part of married life, but because I thought it should make any difference to you." "But Madam..." "Daisy, we are virtually the same age. You know perfectly well what married couples do. And, as we saw this morning, it isn't so hard to arrange things so that no one is embarrassed." "But what if...the master's covers had been..." "Less well arranged?" I asked with a grin. "Then they would have been, and you would have looked away while I covered him up." Daisy nodded, but nevertheless offered to relinquish her new position. I sensed Cavendish behind this. "If you really want that, Daisy, I can't stop you. But if you're asking me, I am very comfortable with you as my maid, and in fact I have grown very fond of you. I really hope you will stay on, but I will respect your wishes either way." She really wanted to stay on. "Then that is how we shall have it." # My biggest laugh was when Lucas came into the dining room and blushed. Angus pretended not to notice. Throughout the day, Lucas seemed somewhat absent-minded, and we were sharing an afternoon sherry when he whispered to me, "You must never do that in the morning again." "Then don't extend such a direct invitation." He turned beet red. Daisy helped me dress for the concert, while Cavendish helped Lucas in his study. He looked so dashing in evening clothes, and my gown was very pleasing to me. Pierce drove us to the Metropolitan Concert Hall, which had only been built a few years before. Agatha Ramage was keeping watch in the lobby as we walked in and waved us over. Matthew and Lucas shook hands and immediately started talking business while Agatha and I exchanged kisses and told each other how lovely we looked. "You both look like newlyweds," she said, and I couldn't prevent my face from coloring. "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see. Don't try to hide it or play it down, because in these days, we all need to see that kind of love and affection." I was delighted that the program was Mozart - the Prague Symphony being the highlight. The orchestra, visiting from Austria, was very good. When we arrived at the Ramage home, the French doors that led out onto the plaza in the rear of the house were all open, and the soft spring breeze created a wonderfully romantic atmosphere. A small orchestra was playing. "I haven't seen Mr. Roosevelt," I said to Agatha. "He hasn't arrived, yet. I suppose he's looking to make a grand entrance." A few minutes later, the butler called out, "Mr. Theodore Roosevelt and Miss Edith Kermit Carow!" The crowd burst into applause, and he indeed made a grand entrance. Edith was not unattractive, but she was far from beautiful. I found myself sizing Roosevelt up in the context of Eliza's evaluation of him. "Oh, Teddy," I heard Agatha say, "I want you to meet Lucas Hendrickson's lovely wife, Eliza." I reminded myself that he was still many years away from the presidency, smiled and offered him my hand. "My!" he said. ?What a handsome woman!? I thanked him. ?I understand,? he went on in a lowered voice, ?that you foretold the Haymarket Riot.? ?No, no. I just had a premonition of danger for my husband. I was grateful that he heeded it.? He smiled and said, ?Well, bully! So was I. We need good men like your husband.? ?The four men who died left wives behind, and the thousands who were demonstrating have loving wives, too,? I said. He took my hand. ?Quite right. Capital cannot continue to heedlessly exploit labor or markets. There must be limits.? ?I would vote for you,? I said, ?were I allowed the vote.? ?Are you a suffragette?? ?I believe that women will one day get the vote,? I said softly. ?So do I, Mrs. Hendrickson. So do I.? Matthew was hailing him and so he excused himself and left me. I turned around and came face to face with Calvin Bolton. ?Did you think you could simply toss me away?? he asked, his face hard, his eyes glaring. ?I?m sorry if I led you on,? I said. ?If?! You not only led me on, you promised me?? ?Stop it!? I whispered. ?I realize that I gave you reason to believe that an intimacy might be possible that really wasn?t, and for that I am sorry. But I am a respectable married woman and I am not about to throw that or my husband?s love away.? ?Respectable?? he sneered. ?You?re a slut.? I wanted to slap him, but knew I couldn?t. I turned and walked away. I went looking for Agatha, and soon found myself in the central foyer of the house. When I turned around, Carlton was there, grinning. ?This is more like it,? he said. ?Now, we will continue out that door, into the mews. Then we can salvage something from this evening.? I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my arm. ?Let me go!? I hissed. His grin grew more evil. ?Not the only little whore who likes to play rough,? he said. He wasn?t expecting the kick in the shin. It allowed me to get away from him. I rushed back to the drawing room, where everyone was gathered. I scanned the crowd. I had just made eye contact with Agatha when he seized me by the arm and yanked me hard out into the hallway. He pulled me back toward the stairway to the servants? quarters and then pinned me against the wall. ?Let?s be civilized about this,? he said. ?All right, let?s. You leave me alone. I am not interested in you.? ?Right,? he said. ?You?re as pure as the driven snow.? I tried to push past him, but he grabbed me and shoved me hard against the wall, his hand gripping my throat. ?You?re just a little whore?? He was pulled away from me and I could suddenly breathe again. Lucas had him pinned against the wall. ?You will leave this house at once,? Lucas was growling. ?And if I ever hear that you have so much as looked at my wife, I will kill you. Do you understand me?? Calvin nodded quickly. ?I?will?kill?you,? Lucas snarled. He released him and Calvin rushed out of the house. # We rode home in silence. We had kept up appearances at the reception, but as soon as we had said our goodnights and gotten into the carriage, he had fallen stonily silent. I tried several times to say something, but words wouldn?t come. When we got home, Lucas retired to his study to undress while I went to the bedroom. ?You?ll join me?? I asked as he walked toward the door. He didn?t say anything. Daisy could tell I was upset. She didn?t ask anything about the evening as she helped me get undressed. When we had finished, I was standing next to the bed and she simply said, ?Good night, Madam.? ?Daisy, would you have Cavendish ask the master to come see me?? ?Yes, Madam.? The lamps were turned down except for one gaslight on the wall. I went over to the window and looked down at the park, dotted here and there with ghostly light. The streets were empty, save for the occasional carriage taking well-to-do patrons home from the evening?s social events. Lucas, I now realized, could be dark and brooding. It was this that had alienated Eliza, had made her feel alone and isolated. She had only hinted at it in her journals, recording incidents rather than what they meant. An hour had passed since I had made my request of Daisy. I had no doubt that she had faithfully passed my request on to Cavendish. And despite my suspicion that Cavendish still disapproved of me, I had no doubt that he had passed my request on to Lucas. As I stared out the window, I looked as deeply into my heart as I could. After all, Eliza had wanted Calvin and had signaled her desire. But as I thought back through her memory, I saw that there had been opportunities ? in her journals, she had always cited interference by servants, but I had already learned that servants could be dealt with. Eliza, raised in this world, had to have known that. ?She had doubts,? I whispered aloud. I had by now waited an hour and a half. I felt sick at the thought that Lucas would not come. I remembered the first time he had refused to do so, after an incident in which Eliza had flirted with someone at a dinner. Sometimes, you have to listen to your heart. I walked over to the door that separated our rooms. I listened for several minutes and heard him sneeze. I knocked twice. There was no answer. ?Lucas,? I called, trying to keep my voice soft enough not to be heard elsewhere in the house, but loud enough for him to hear me. ?Lucas, may I come in?? I heard soft footfalls approaching. I waited for what felt like an eternity. I heard the click of the lock. My hand was trembling as I reached for the handle. If he had just locked it, I would die. How, I wondered, could my world have plummeted so quickly? Of course I knew that love was difficult, but ours had so much promise. I cursed Eliza for having been so stupid and thoughtless, and yet knowing that she, too, had felt terribly alone. I turned the handle. The door opened. Lucas was standing a few feet away in his bedclothes. His bed was not turned down. ?Please come to bed,? I said. He stared at the floor. ?Please don?t leave me alone. I can?t bear that. I?m your wife ? I need you beside me, and what?s more, you need me, too.? He met my gaze. I could read the questions in his mind. ?Who are you?? he asked. ?What do you mean?? ?I mean, are you the beautiful, loving wife with whom I made such exquisite love last night and this morning, or are you the bitter, unhappy, plotting woman who was ready to violate her wedding vows before she took sick?? I begged him to come to our bed and we would talk as long as we needed to. When he asked me why it would matter what room we were in, I told him, ?because that is our marriage bed. It is ours, together.? He considered it. Then he nodded, turned off the lamp on the wall, and followed me. We sat down on the bed, next to one another. ?Calvin Bolton didn?t just come up to you on a lark,? he said. ?He had to have been given encouragement, and not just a little casual flirting.? Listen to your heart. ?Yes. It started out with flirting, but then, he came to see me one day when you weren?t here. He wanted to be lovers and I admit that I was tempted, but I made excuses.? ?But you forced Lucy out of the house.? ?I know. I did many foolish and harmful things. I hurt you, upset the servants, and degraded myself. And then I realized how much I really love you, need you, and how important it is to me that we have a good marriage. ?I can?t explain what happened, I only know that it did. I wrote to Calvin this week and told him I would not see him. And, tonight, he wasn?t looking for an assignation with me, he was looking to humiliate me, to hurt me as well as you.? I was starting to cry. ?Please don?t pull away. That?s what we?ve done in the past, each draw back into our own little caves, surrounding ourselves with indifference, you with your work, me with my foolishness, as if that can keep out the hurt. We need each other.? He wiped my tears away. But I could feel him, still holding back. ?Ask me,? I said. ?Ask you what?? ?Whatever you feel you must.? He hesitated. ?This morning?what you did?? I managed to smile. I knew it had been bothering him. ?We girls know of such things, even if we?re forced to pretend we don?t. Of course, nice girls aren?t supposed to know, and yet when we marry nice boys who have also heard of such things, they dream of them. Some even go looking for it elsewhere, ?just to see what it?s like?. ?I know you never would. Many men don?t, but then they go through life wondering what might have been. ?When I saw you this morning, so?ready?it aroused me. And I was so grateful at the turn our marriage had taken, I thought only of pleasing you. I could never do anything like that with another man, only you, my darling husband, to whom I hope and pray I will be able to give many children.? We held each other for a long time. ?Come to bed,? I whispered. He nodded, got up and turned down the gaslight. We both slipped into bed, and he pulled me into his arms. ?There?s just one thing,? he said. ?I?er?don?t think I can?? I giggled and kissed him. ?Neither can I. Much too sore.? ?Eliza!? ?Oh, for heaven?s sake, we?re alone!?