Passing as Elias by Kate Bloomfield Read Free Book Online

shadows under her eyes from crying on and off over the last few days. As Elizabeth swept downstairs she found Captain Greenwood and her mother in the sitting room. The Captain was sipping a cup of tea politely, but jumped to his feet when Elizabeth entered, slopping tea down his front. She pretended not to notice this, and gave him a small curtsey, looking at the floor.  As she did this, her mother exited into the kitchen in order to give them some privacy.
    “Miss Searson,” Captain Greenwood put his half empty saucer on the table, and wiped hurriedly at the damp mark on his vest, “My deepest sympathies for your loss.” He crossed the room and stood before her in three short strides.
    “Thank you for your kind words,” Elizabeth nodded, “and thank you, for the lilies.’
    Captain Greenwood seemed to be fumbling with something in his pocket. He pulled out a small brown package tied with red string.
    “I do apologise, I had no time to wrap it,” he said, handing the light package to Elizabeth.
    “You have … bought me something?” she enquired in a shaky voice, feeling quite emotionally unstable.
    “It is nothing.” He waved it aside, although Elizabeth could see that he was extremely nervous.
    Elizabeth untied the package with shaking hands, and let the wrappings fall open to reveal a pair of petite, silk gloves that seemed to shine brightly in the light pouring in through the sitting room window. Elizabeth touched them with her fingertips. The white silk was as soft as a gentle breeze.
    “They are lovely,” she said, gazing at them.
    “I thought … white … to represent purity,” he explained hurriedly, “I thought you could wear them to the funeral.”
    Elizabeth looked up at him. “Thank you.”
    Captain Greenwood reached out a hand and took the package from Elizabeth and placed it on the mantelpiece. Ever so gently, he took one of her hands and straightened out her fingers with the ball of his palm. His skin was hot, and Elizabeth felt an absurd quiver somewhere below her abdomen. Taking one of the gloves, Captain Greenwood proceeded to slip the silky material over Elizabeth’s fingers and gently pull it towards her wrist. He took great care in fitting each finger precisely in the gloves, and allowed his hands to linger in hers, massaging them gently with his thumb. Once both gloves were on, he let go of her hands, and smiled at her.
    “How do they feel?” he asked.
    Elizabeth’s mouth felt dry, and she had a strange sensation occurring in the pit of her stomach. The way he had touched her hands so gently had sent shivers down her spine. 
    “They are perfect.” She smiled and turned her hands this way and that to admire the gloves.
    “I am glad you like them, and at the same time I am very sorry about the occasion for which they are being used.”
    Elizabeth’s throat felt tight, and she swallowed hard. She did not wish to cry in front of Captain Greenwood, for she had tried so hard to maintain the image of being a strong and independent woman. However, in this position she felt extremely weak and vulnerable.
    “Shall we proceed?” he asked, holding out an arm for Elizabeth to take.
    “Yes, of course,” Elizabeth said, her chest tight.
    Traditionally, funerals would take place within the home of the deceased , with the coffin being carried from the house to the site of the burial by horse and cart. This had been the case with Elizabeth’s father. However, as Professor de Bard had no family to organise his funeral, it was taking place in the church, and would be a public affair.
    Captain Greenwood had arranged a carriage to take them to the funeral, something Elizabeth was grateful for, as she did not much feel like walking. Once they had arrived, he opened the carriage door for her, and took her hand to assist her down the step.
    As they walked through the church doors, Elizabeth was vaguely aware that Captain Greenwood’s plans of courting her seemed to be working. She felt quite