at the dance 5

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A curious thing happens, I seem to fail getting a carriage, something that has never happened to me before. But then again I have never tried to get a carriage looking the way I look now. I'm still in my disguise, my hair wild and I'm bent like an old woman. I simply haven't had the time or the energy to change tonight. Horrified I realize that I might have to walk home after all but then Higgins runs out onto the road and right in front of an oncoming carriage. The driver stops, but he is greatly infuriated. "What do you think you doing fool," he shouts at Higgins. Higgins stays calm, he beckons me to come in sight. "This lady needs a carriage," he says matter of factually.  The driver laughs cruelly, "Well that is too bad, I only transport paying customers." 

Icily I answer: "Don't you worry I am more then able to pay," I say and produce the small reticule I have been working on the last few evenings. Even though I despise a lot of my being a 'fine' lady, I do love embroidery and if I may say so the reticule has turned out exquisite. The driver seems unsure for a moment then he hisses. "Stolen isn't it, I should call the police really." I've had quite enough of this man I'm not in the mood, I'm tired and sore. "Do you want the money or not," Higgins interferes calmly. "Alright then," the driver mumbles, he does want the money after all. The driver shifts uneasily after I've informed him to drop me in the richest part of town, as a matter of fact in front of the grandest house in the whole of Milton, maybe he starts believing that I am a lady. Before we drive off I call out to Higgins. "I shall return tomorrow and I will bring a doctor." Then I see Higgins disappear in the distance.

I have a hard time staying awake and when I'm finally at my home, I nearly walked up to the front entrance as I always do but just before I do, I remember my a tire. Hurriedly I make my way around the house to the servants entry. Here I'm met by Daisy. Daisy is one of our cooks. She is shocked by my appearance. I beg her not to tell but I do ask her to get Lawren for me. Lawren is my personal maid, she is kind and lately, she has become something like a friend to me. "Miss Elizabeth," she calls out when she sees me, "did you get robbed?" I am too tired to explain. I just want a hot bath and for her to rub my back with ointment.

A burning sensation coming from my hands is suddenly very apparent. I carefully remove the strips of cotton that are still wrapped around my hands, while Lawren goes to arrange the hot water for my bath. It's extremely painful, it isn't really surprising tho, the palms of my hands are covered in blisters of which most of them have come open and the raw flesh is covered in dry blood. Lawren gets hysteric on finding my hands in such a state. "Miss Elizabeth," she shakes her head violently, "what have you done this time. " She scolds me sometimes but I know she only means well and that she really cares for me and I do believe she secretly admires my spirit. 

I am more asleep now than I'm awake. Not really expecting an answer Lawren takes care of my hands and the rest of my sore body. A short while later I lie in my soft warm bed with thick bandages around my hands and my body covered with an ointment that thankfully eases the pain. My last thought is a short prayer of thankfulness that I don't have to work in the Mill again, ever, but my heart is also heavy for those that do not have the same privilege as I have. I sleep like a stone.

The next morning my aches are a lot worse and I have a hard time getting up but eventually I do. I am determined to return to Higgins house with a doctor for Mary. I send for the doctor who finally arrives shortly after midday. He is a kind, older gentlemen.  Together we make our way to Higgins house. If the doctor is surprised by this strange call I don't know. I can imagine he is but I couldn't care less. I am so sickened by the social separation right now, that alone the fact that he might wonder makes me angry. I guess I'm slightly etchy also because of the pain i' m experiencing and still burning with guilt and shame.

The children are delighted to see me but generally the atmosphere is uneasy. "Mary is worse," Susan informs me. 

The doctor examines Mary. His verdict is not good, her lungs are full of cotton. Just like her older sister. I know about her older sister and how she died, Higgins had volunteered this information one day. I am greatly troubled. I feel so strongly for Higgins. 

The doctor leaves medicine for Mary and after he left, I get active. I tidy, clean and even cook as well as I can and under Mary's weak instructions and for the time being, I don't think about my aching bones or my aching heart. It is good to physically do something to improve these people's live. I have also brought oranges along so that Mary may get her vitamins. Hoping that this will help her to get better. 

When Higgins returns in the evening he takes badly to the news. He disappears for hours. I bring the children to bed and I make sure Mary is comfortable, only then Higgins returns. He is drunk and unable to make conversation. I help him to lie down on his bed were he falls into a stupor as soon as his head touches the pillow. Today I make my way home through the semi-dark. Troubled as I am I don't see the man in front of me so I run into him. I look up and look into Mr. Thornton's strong gaze. For a few moments, I am lost, as I stare into his eyes. Then I turn and run. I can feel his eyes burning into my back once again but I dare not look back.

The next day is Sunday. On Sundays, I have duties such as going to church to show my face but I have to say, now while I'm in church I actually use the time to pray. I pray feverishly hoping that Mary will be spared somehow and that Higgins will be alright. 

In the late afternoon, there is a dance. Uncle is adamant that I have to come. I really don't feel in the slightest inspired to go to a dance but I am a little concerned that he may get more interested in my secret life if I don't oblige to his will every so often, so I do go. My hands are still rather raw, carefully I pull a pair of fine silk gloves over them. The silk lays cool on the still burning skin. I love these pretty gloves. I do love pretty dresses too, such as the one I'm wearing tonight. I looked down at the intricate pattern of cream colored embroidery that embellishes the pink silky dress I'm wearing tonight. So shallow of me, really.

I mingle at the dance, smiling, making polite conversation and gracefully accept admiration. It is all a big show really and we are all but puppets. I am unnerved by all the fake merry making. At least a great deal of it is fake. I watch the dancing, having a small moment to myself. I presume there are a few people here that are genuinely enjoying themselves I have to admit. The beauty of the dance does capture me and I find myself almost wishing that somebody would take up the courage to ask me to dance. 

Across the room, I suddenly make out a familiar face. It is him. Mr. Thornton is here! I try to blend in with the crowd. I come across George Whiten a friend of the family and of my age, he asks me to dance. I am to shaken really to dance having detected Mr. Thornton's presence at the ball but George insists and so I find myself dancing. To my dismay, Mr. Thornton is also dancing and this is a dance where we get to dance with each of the partners. I will eventually have to dance with him! 

I move through the row of men as the dance progresses and then I stand in front of him. He takes my hand and we start dancing. I can not help it, I look up and our eyes meet. I detect recognition, hurriedly I divert my eyes. Suddenly I hear his voice, drowned almost by the music. "Why did you work at the Mill?" he whispers, he sounds displeased. "I am sorry sir I don't think I know what you're talking about," I answer avoiding eye contact. I think I am so very concerned that my secret may be discovered and then I wouldn't be able to carry on the way I have, that I want nobody to know. Nobody but those that would not judge me and whom I can trust.

Suddenly a sharp pain shoots through my hand. I wince and falter slightly. He has his thumb pressed hard into the palm of my hand. Grimly he says: "I think you know what I'm talking about."

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