XI

186 12 15
                                    

 Elizabeth hisses as she grips the footboard of her bed tightly, her forehead beginning to sweat. Her jawline tightens to keep from cursing out, the pain in her ribs becoming unbearable.

"We're almost done, Miss Elizabeth," Meredith reassures, Elizabeth groans in pain as Meredith pulls her corset even tighter.

The blonde-haired woman scoffs. "I can hardly breathe,"

"You will look absolutely beautiful,"

"Oh lovely, I can wear it to my funeral as well once it crushes me."

Meredith giggles softly to Elizabeth's words, shaking her head softly. Meredith finishes cinching the corset, making Elizabeth yelp once and scrunch her face up.

"All finished,"

Elizabeth exhales a sigh of relief and relaxes her expression. Elizabeth slowly shuffles her way towards the elegant blush ballroom gown, that had been placed on her dress form earlier this morning, a smile forming across her face. The dress was truly prepossessing; the soft sheer lace layering each other as it makes it's way up to the waist, where it slightly tightens around the bust except for the puff shoulder sleeves. The golden flakes that had been melted into the fabric is what tied the dress together completely, showcasing a gown that was bound to turn heads.

Meredith begins to remove the dress from the form, pulling the large dress over the form's head. Meredith loosens the back of the dress and lowers it to the ground, allowing Elizabeth to step inside. The older woman pulls the dress up on Elizabeth's thin figure carefully, trying her hardest not to snag it on the corset.

Once the dress' sleeves are loosely draped off of Elizabeth's shoulders, Meredith begins to tighten the dress back up to its former shape, Elizabeth's air supply being cut off more so than before.

As Meredith begins to add finishing fixes to the dress, a question forms in her head. "Is he going to be attending?"

"What?" Elizabeth's eyebrows furrow as she replies, she turns her head back to Meredith, who has a slight smirk across her knowing lips. "Oh, I don't know... he said he'd try."

Elizabeth turns her head back around, looking out of her window at the swaying green leaves and branches of the oak tree as the wind blows carelessly through the warm summer air. Meredith now begins to focus her attention on Elizabeth's unmade hair; she picks up Elizabeth's fine silver hairbrush with a snow pearl handle, she brushes through Elizabeth's smooth hair.

"You oughta be careful, Miss. If your father finds out that-"

"He won't," Elizabeth interrupts with certainty, she clears her throat before speaking on, "Besides, Arthur and I are friends. There is no harm in friendships."

"Just a friendship?"

Elizabeth looks down, not knowing how to answer. She had tried to convince herself countless times that it was just a friendship... a simple admiration of someone who had lived differently than she, who truly cared about what was going on in her head and actually did not see her because of her father's money. With every passing day, Elizabeth's feelings for Arthur grew more with every passing thought. Elizabeth's mind travels to Arthur's memory most when she lays her head down to sleep, the thought of him keeps her up most nights.

Meredith exhales a long breath through her nostrils. "Your silence is thundering, Miss Elizabeth."

"He's just- it doesn't matter."

Meredith's heart begins to tear for the young woman, she too knows how it feels to love someone in an impossible predicament. Of course, Meredith did not want the same fate for the girl she had raised since the cradle, she wanted her to find her own happiness... even if that meant abandoning her family's traditions of wealth and prosperity.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ↝ 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯Where stories live. Discover now