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Author's Chapter Notes:
I've basically decided not to write Elizabeth and Riley's dialogue in an Irish accent. I'll just butcher it, and you'll just hate me.

Soo... You can just pretend ;]
Chapter Three.

Elizabeth awoke to the sound of muttering and the occasional clang. It took her a few moments to realize that she was in a house just outside of busy London. 'Great, so it wasn't just a dream.' she thought to herself warily, rubbing a good night's worth of sleep out of her eyes. She must have made a noise because a tiny girl around Elizabeth's age scurried over towards her and propped up her pillows.

"Ahh Miss Elizabeth. You are awake at last. Me name's Ruth, and I am your maid." Ruth, as her name was said, rushing over to the tiny stove in Elizabeth's room and removing another pot of hot water. "I'm just preparing your bath. Master Wesley has instructed that you bathe at least twice a week and of course today you shall be bathing because it is your first day of school! I know it is all so sudden, are you nervous, Miss Elizabeth?" Ruth said as she tested the water in Elizabeth's bath and placed a large scrappy looking piece of fabric on the chair next to the bath.

"What on Earth is that on the chair, and why are you talking to me as if I have known you for more than ten years?" Elizabeth demanded. Ruth confused Elizabeth. She was rather motherly, and she was just a little taller than her. She had small brown eyes and red lips that made Elizabeth cry with envy. She wanted lips that colour! How annoying it was for her to have to apply rouge to them whenever she left the house.

Ruth just giggled at Elizabeth's demands for answers and replied simply, "It is a towel, Miss Elizabeth. You dry yourself with it, you goose. I call everyone Master Wesley knows by their first names because Master Wesley believes that it shows more respect to talk to someone with their given name, ma'am."

Ruth pulled a fuming Elizabeth out of bed by her arm and over to the bath. She removed her night gown and nudged her towards her bath. She had never felt more violated in her life. First of all, she did know what a towel was and she didn't appreciate being called a goose. She found it highly disrespectful that a simple maid should find it right to call her so. Secondly, maids always called their mistresses and masters by their last names, and they said it with respect. Elizabeth was down right offended.

Ruth wasn't silly, however, she sensed Elizabeth's discomfort and said, "Oh calm yourself, Miss. You're not an aristocrat anymore, and I doubt you will be for quite some time. You are a middle class woman and it will be best for you if you remember so. Children at the local schools in small towns do not take lightly to other children who find it in them to think they're better than them."

"You sound educated." Elizabeth said simply, washing herself quietly as Ruth rummaged around for an outfit for Elizabeth to wear.

"Oh, of course I am. I may be poor but my father had always made sure I talked correctly, and learned to read. He was quite a proud poor man. He said he'd rather I was a beggar with nice manners who would possibly get money or food every few nights than a beggar with poor regard for the English language who would be frowned upon." Ruth stated proudly. "Ah!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Either of these will do nicely," she held up two dresses for Elizabeth to inspect. "The black one, or the brown one?"

Elizabeth sniffed in disgust. Those weren't her dresses. Those were ill-fashioned children's dresses from goodness only knows where. "Neither of those will
do nicely."

Ruth frowned at Elizabeth and jiggled the black one a little bit. "You seem to have plenty of ribbons, and a perfectly fine straw hat in your trunk. Perhaps you can dress the dress up a little?" Ruth giggled at her own play on the English language and placed the black dress on the end of Elizabeth's bed.

Elizabeth would only ever wear black dresses while she was in mourning. She wasn't mourning, she had worn black on the ship quite enough. She was glad to see the back of the bland shade. Elizabeth reached for the thin scrap of material on the chair and pulled herself out of the bath. Once she had finished drying, she ordered Ruth to leave her be so she could dress. Ruth was right, if she was going to wear this awful thing, she could at least dress it up.

By the time Elizabeth was finished with her dress, she was rather happy with it. She had found a nice pair of boots beside her trunk and had cleaned them up
nicely. Her fashionable coat disguised the hideous dress, and her straw hat was decorated with a pale pink bow which complimented her complexion. She had left her long, blonde tresses down because she didn't care much for the latest fashion in hairstyles as it was, she thought it looked rather silly. Staring herself up and down in her mirror, she nodded approvingly and walked out into the hall. She assumed, out of common knowledge it was time for breakfast now so she headed for the dining room.

Wesley was scurrying about in a complete fluster, letting out tiny whimpers of "oh dear!" and "oh my!" while flinging a book around exasperatingly.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked so silently, she wasn't even sure if she had said anything at all.

Wesley dropped his book and turned to look at Elizabeth. "Why, this is certainly a change, isn't it? Ruth told me you could speak, and William Giles said
you could, also but I didn't think it was true!" Wesley feigned horror but quickly stopped when he noticed his charge glaring at him.

"Oh, yes well I was.. uhh. There has been a page ripped out in this book. Naturally, I would say it was an accident, but it was here yesterday. I would blame William, but Rupert's so quick to defend his son when I accuse something. Anyway, breakfast has been served. Be quick about it, I must go into the library and you must be off to school." on that note, Wesley hurried out of the room, muttering something about odd little boys with even weirder little mothers. Elizabeth couldn't help herself from smiling.

After breakfast was said and done, Wesley and Elizabeth hopped into the buggy. Wesley eagerly, and Elizabeth with no hidden annoyance. Wesley told her to cheer up a little bit and said that she would be meeting new friends and could have some chums to visit once and a while, but under no circumstances was she to court with anyone unless they had reached his approval. He was such a father sometimes. Elizabeth couldn't understand why he hadn't become a father in reality.

The carriage stopped off at the town house school and Wesley gave Elizabeth an awkward pat on the head, or straw hat in her case, and said he was really in a hurry and would love to stay and help her but really couldn't. Elizabeth, out of scorn kicked at the dusty road and got her boots dirty. "So much for polishing them. Now it looks as though I've walked to school and there isn't a doubt these children know just how far away I live." she muttered angrily.

Elizabeth noted that most of the children seemed pretty happy to be waltzing into school, she couldn't understand it herself. Just having a tutor was enough to make her want to throw her slates at the walls. The school house wasn't so bad, it was quite elegant, or so she thought. For such a place of torture it seemed to be rather well presented. It had two floors, one possibly for the younger children and the other for the elder children. The banisters on the outside steps were painted red, a harsh but respectable colour and it looked elegant on the inside. She was really quite confused.

The handbell signalled the start of school, she assumed and she waited by the teacher's desk, as Wesley had instructed her to do. A kind, dark haired woman walked in, said good morning to the class and sat down. She looked at Elizabeth, smiled gently and said, "Oh, good morning. I trust you're a new student. May I have your name to add to the class attendance list, please?"

Elizabeth refrained from gawking at the teacher and nodded, "Elizabeth O'Connor." she said simply.

The teacher marm nodded and spoke again, "My name is Winifred Burkle. I am of course, your teacher. Where are you from?"

Elizabeth flushed, slightly. Admitting she was from Dublin wouldn't be that great amongst her fellow pupils. Clearing her throat delicately as she had seen some women do, she replied "Dublin, Ireland, Miss Burkle. I'm staying with Wesley.." she cut herself off and grew wide-eyed. Of all the things she had been taught to remember, the last name was the most important and she had just forgotten Wesley's. She snapped out of it and noticed that Miss Burkle was blushing profusely. Someone had a yearning for Welsey, it seemed.

Miss Burkle cleared her throat also delicately and looked up at Elizabeth. "Yes, yes of course. Well I am afraid for today, you are going to be sitting next to William Giles as no one else appears to want to sit next to him right now."

Elizabeth looked over at William who was leaning back slightly on his chair, with a twinkle in his eye and a grin from ear to ear. Sitting next to him wasn't a bad thing,
was it? He was just a boy her age. She could deal with it.
Elizabeth moved slowly and sat next to William. She wasn't happy, that was for sure.

William was happy, that was for sure. He had the girl he had been thinking about all night next to him. He'd make sure she stayed there, and that was certain. He had to get this girl to crack, the boys in his class had been brought up too proper, and the one boy who was naughty, Riley Finn was William's sworn enemy. Riley was another kid who had come from Ireland, but mainly because his father had been exempt from the military in Ireland and wanted to escape the shame. Of course, William wasn't sure this was the reason why, but he just loved to think that Riley's family was cowardly. He spotted Riley glance appreciatively towards William's new project and gave him a mean look. Riley would keep his paws off this girl, even if they were both Irish.

Leaning his chair towards Elizabeth, William whispered, "'Ello, Goldilocks." prodding her in the arm gently.
Elizabeth brushed him off and said, "Pig."

William grinned. There was fire in this girl yet.





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