Passing as Elias - By Kate Bloomfield Page 0,3

girl. Her skin was as pale as snow, and as delicate as china. Her hair was as orange as the sun, and fell in ringlets to the small of her back. It was often hard to tame, and lack of time meant it was usually a mess. A scattering of freckles sat lightly upon her nose and chest. Her full, pink lips hid straight teeth. Her face was heart shaped, and her eyes were emerald green, surrounded by blonde lashes. Her eyebrows were so light you might not even notice they were there. Many people assumed Elizabeth to be of a much younger age.

Elizabeth grumbled at her Professor. He smiled at her and walked into his laboratory without another word. Elizabeth remained behind the counter in the shop front. Between eight o’clock in the morning, and six o’clock at night she would sell and recommend concoctions to the villagers. She often gave medical advice and boxed large orders for the local surgeon who practiced up the way. Pregnant ladies often sought potions and herbs, and some simply wanted elixirs to solve their woes. There was also a large amount of paperwork and commissions involved. However, when the tower clock chimed six, Elizabeth would flip the sign on the door, and commence her lessons with Professor De Bard in the laboratory until her brain could no longer retain any new information. This often resulted in late nights.

Recently, the Professor had allowed her to work upon the commissions the townspeople put forth. This would be the first time in three years Elizabeth would be getting paid for her concoctions. Professor De Bard always checked her work, and analysed her methods. He made her write everything down. She had never done wrong. Today was very important for Elizabeth, because it was the first client of great nobility that she would be doing a commission for. Though the encounter with Master Larson had not gone well.

Elizabeth was in a rather sour mood for the rest of the day. Several people came in and out of the shop, the doorbell tinkling consistently throughout the morning. She put on a smile for the clients, and spoke in a sweet voice to even the most troublesome customers. At midday a gang of small boys pressed their noses against the glass, and blew raspberries at Elizabeth through the window, leaving spittle and grubby little handprints upon the shop front.

While Elizabeth was wiping down the glass with a bucket and rag, a voice spoke in her left ear, causing her to jump and slop water down her front.

‘What kind of work is this for a young lady?’ A mans voice said.

‘Oh!’ Elizabeth spun on the spot and gripped the rag to her chest, ‘Captain Greenwood, you did startle me!’

George Greenwood stood before Elizabeth, wide shouldered, tall, and handsome. Many of the women who had encountered Captain Greenwood said he was the handsomest man they had known. Elizabeth did not care for his beauty.

George Greenwood stood straight backed, with his hands behind him. He gave her a small bow, ‘I do apologize, Miss Searson.’ He smiled, showing perfect rows of glinting white teeth. Elizabeth seemed to be the only lady within a hundred miles who did not have to steady herself upon the furniture when looking at him.

Elizabeth smiled politely, and brushed the font of her dress, which was quite damp. She showed George Greenwood into the apothecary, where he removed his tricorn hat. His chocolate hair flopped onto his forehead and covered his dark eyebrows.

‘How have you been, Captain?’ Elizabeth said as she stepped behind the counter.

‘As well as any man on a diet of salt meat, hard biscuit and sauerkraut.’ He said with a sigh. ‘I arrived back on shore only yesterday.’

‘Well you did not wait very long before coming to visit the apothecary.’ Elizabeth smiled.

‘Ah, how could I stay away?’ George Greenwood gave a charming smile, ‘No one makes better supplements than you, Miss Searson.’

‘You are too kind, Captain. Did you find the vitamins helpful these past months?’

Captain Greenwood was the only client who preferred to get his remedies from Elizabeth, rather than Professor De Bard.

‘Extremely.’ George admitted, ‘Not a single case of scurvy reported. Though it doesn’t make the food taste any better.’

‘Do you not love being in the navy?’ Elizabeth wondered aloud.

George Greenwood leaned upon the counter, and Elizabeth smelled the sea upon him. It was not unpleasant, she thought mildly.

‘I love what I do.’ He admitted, ‘Though I do miss the company of a