Elizabeth 03: The Art Student

Elizabeth read the note again, the elation of a moment before now tempered with frustration. There were times when true love did not seem quite worth its cost, and she had never experienced such a strong sense of that reservation as now. She thought now of Agnes and Edward, and how stiff and formal their affair seemed to be. No passion, perhaps, but clearly they were able to stay clear of one another's business. Would she be better off in such an arrangement, or even on her own and free to sleep with any man she chose? That would certainly put an end to Jonathan's concerns about satisfying her!

Elizabeth forced herself to stop thinking such things and take a deep breath. She knew the real reason for the awkward nature of Edward and Agnes' relationship, even if they did not see it yet; and she certainly did not want that of all things for herself! Perhaps a late lunch was in order, for Elizabeth found she was not in the mood to see Jonathan or any of her other friends just then. Instead she set back to her work, interrupted only by another courier bringing news of Irene's acceptance of the invitation to the baths. That was welcome, at least: it would give Elizabeth a chance to learn just how much Jonathan had overshared and how much damage there was to repair, if any.

Irene's note also said she would be at lunch at a favourite café of theirs should Elizabeth wish to join, but that was out of the question. After drinking so much tea that morning, she knew all too well that Iron Bladder Irene's teasing would be worse than ever, and Elizabeth did not trust herself to take the ribbing in stride as she normally did. On that note, Elizabeth resolved to brew no more tea for the afternoon. With only a very quick lunch on her own at the automat downstairs, she spent the remainder of the afternoon as focused on her work as the morning had been.

By four o'clock she was exhausted, but her angst had mostly passed. The rain, though, had not yet passed, and so Elizabeth chose an impromptu rendez-vous point under an awning on the high street, around the corner from the baths. Both Irene and Agnes would have to pass by there to get to the baths. Irene, being both closer and more familiar with the city's transit system, arrived first. "Elizabeth, dear!" she greeted her friend, stepping off the streetcar. Elizabeth was mostly over the frustration of earlier in the day; mostly, but not quite. She kissed Irene chastely on the cheek, but her friend could sense a problem. "What's the matter, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Nothing, I suppose. But I understand Jonathan had a rather intimate chat with you and Benjamin yesterday, and I'd have preferred that he had left certain things up to me to divulge to you."

"Oh, dear, are you still quarrelling?" Irene asked. "I assure you, Elizabeth, he did not overshare in any way. Benjamin and I know you, and we understand everything. In fact, talking to Jonathan led us to a heart-to-heart talk of our own." She paused, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "And after that talk, we spent all afternoon in bed! I had hoped you and Jonathan had done the same, and I am sorry to hear otherwise."

"Well, thank you, Irene," Elizabeth said. "I am delighted to hear Jonathan's problems helped with someone's relationship, in any event. But that does not excuse his divulging my private business, even to our best friends."

"Oh, Elizabeth..."

"Of course, even had we made up yesterday, we couldn't have spent the afternoon in bed. That was when I was sitting for the painting." She gave Irene a knowing look that was not returned.

"What painting?" Irene asked.

"The one Jonathan had no business telling you about!" Elizabeth reminded her.

"Elizabeth," Irene said. "Jonathan said nothing about any painting! Now what is it you are on about?"

"Oh, good heavens!" Elizabeth felt a rush of joy and relief, tempered with guilt as she realized she had misinterpreted Jonathan's note and he would now believe she was still angry at him. "He didn't tell you! I have sorely underestimated my love. Shame on me."

"What painting?" Irene demanded again. "What didn't he tell me?"

Before Elizabeth could answer, the next streetcar came to a stop just beyond the awning that was sheltering them, and off stepped a very nervous looking Agnes. With a brief reassurance to Irene that she would explain everything shortly, Elizabeth waved to her new friend. "Agnes! You found the stop. Congratulations. Meet Irene."

Agnes stepped up under the awning and shook hands with Irene. "I have heard so very much about you!" she gushed. "It is a great pleasure to meet Elizabeth's closest confidante."

"Well, thank you," Irene said, rather bewildered. "Forgive me, I am afraid Elizabeth has told me little about you."

Elizabeth was stung, but not surprised; she had feared Irene might be a bit jealous of her new friend. "I apologize, Irene. I am afraid Agnes is a part of the story I thought Jonathan had told you that he did not really."

"About the painting?" Irene asked impatiently.

"Oh, it's going to be such a lovely painting!" Agnes said.

"Are either of you ever going to tell me what you are talking about?!" Irene demanded.

Elizabeth had already been thinking, in light of discovering her error about Jonathan and the painting, that she ought to practice her diplomacy skills; now she realized she had better do so immediately. "Yes, of course I will, Irene," she said, taking her friend's hand gently in both of hers. "Forgive me; I had thought Jonathan had told you, and I had every intention of telling you myself when I realized he hadn't, but that was also the moment Agnes arrived. This all happened very suddenly over the weekend, and there was no opportunity for me to tell you before now."

"Tell me what?" But Irene's voice was more conciliatory now.

"Agnes is my landlord's niece, Mr. Marlston's niece, and her fiancé is an art student. They have both been staying at the mansion for some time now, but we did not meet formally until this weekend." Her face breaking into a wicked grin that Irene knew well, Elizabeth continued, "Although we had not met, Agnes' fiancé – Edward is his name – has apparently been eyeing me for some time as a potential subject for a painting."

"It's true," Agnes cut in. "We had seen her around about the house, and Edward was hoping for an introduction and trying to think of an easy way to ask Elizabeth. But of course there is no easy way to ask."

Now it was Irene's turn to grin at her old friend. "Ah, I see. This Edward painted you nude, no doubt."

"You heard already?" Agnes asked, surprised.

"No," Irene corrected. "But I know Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth was laughing with equal parts relief and pleasant embarrassment. "Yes, Irene, I sat yesterday for a nude painting. And I have agreed to at least one more, perhaps tomorrow night."

"And while she was posing, she told me all about you and Benjamin and your adventures," Agnes said. "I hope you don't mind, Irene, and I am honoured to meet you!"

"I don't mind at all," Irene said, though she did look rather less than happy about the matter. "And I find it all strangely appropriate that this Edward should have asked you to pose for him, and not at all surprising that you accepted. I am certain the painting is beautiful." Irene had a great deal of experience in witnessing others who admired Elizabeth's unique beauty.

"It isn't finished yet," Agnes said. "But it will be beautiful." And on that note, Elizabeth and Irene guided their new friend around the corner and down the side street to the baths.

Elizabeth had foreseen the risk of Irene's jealousy toward Agnes; and sadly, she had foreseen correctly. As they checked in at the desk and made their way to the changing room, Irene was cordial but never quite polite; and Agnes responded in kind. Fortunately, Elizabeth had settled upon a clever and convenient way to allow her two friends to bond at her expense rather than vie for her favour. She was able to put that plan into action as soon as the three arrived in the locker room, and that time arrived not a moment too soon. Despite her having refrained from drinking any more tea after lunch, the effects of her earlier binge were still very much present – now more than ever after the lengthy streetcar ride from her office. "Oh, heavens, I need to visit the water closet, quite badly," she said as soon as they had arrived in the changing room.

"Imagine my surprise!" needled Irene, though it was in a less edgy tone than she had used since Agnes arrived.

"Yes, I'm sure neither of you expected that," Elizabeth said as she opened her locker and set her handbag inside. She then unbuttoned her blouse just as brazenly as she had done before Edward and Agnes the day before.

"You have already experienced her fondness for all sorts of liquids, then?" Irene asked Agnes with a grin as she unbuckled her trousers (a new trend among the women of Westfordshire City, of which Irene was among the pioneers; Agnes found the look fascinating and promised herself she would try it one day).

"Indeed," Agnes replied, trying but failing to repress a grin of her own. "In fact, we met in the ladies' room at the mansion!"

"How fitting," Irene said. "I must say, Elizabeth, I am rather surprised you were able to sit still all afternoon for this painting of yours."

"I was wondering, too, after some things she said in our first conversation," Agnes said. "But she did it, without even ever complaining!"

"I was simply careful about how much tea I drank in the morning yesterday," Elizabeth explained, hanging her skirt up in the locker. "Not so today, as you can see." She smiled as she finished undressing, relieved to see her self-deprecating gamble had worked so well. If she had to let her friends tease her to bring them together, then so be it. Braving the usual furtive glances at her famous bush from the other ladies, Elizabeth closed her locker.

"You will get used to waiting for her to wee, I assure you," Irene told Agnes, who had only begun fiddling with the buttons of her frock by the time Elizabeth disappeared into the water closet. "Jonathan, too. He's my cousin, you know, and he's also started drinking a lot more tea and wine and so forth since they got together. Great fun to taunt them on the matter when I'm of a mind to. It usually doesn't bother them, not really." Seeing how embarrassed the poor newcomer was, she added, "You will also get used to undressing in here." With that she pushed down her short pants, the last article of clothing she had been wearing, and stood nude before Agnes. "See?"

Agnes cast one quick, nervous look around the room. There were five or six other women in various stages of undress, and (with Elizabeth out of sight for the moment) none was minding any of the others including her. So Agnes bit her lip and pulled her frock up over her head, and allowed a nervous smile at Irene as she hung it in her locker. Recalling her admiration for Elizabeth's self-confidence the day before, she quickly removed her brassiere as well, and was ever-so-slightly surprised to find she had not burst into flames of humiliation. She was nearly naked in company, and the world was still turning.

Elizabeth reappeared just in time to see Agnes push her short pants down and step out of them. Agnes made eye contact with her mentor and burst into a laugh that was equal parts embarrassment and relief. Due to her own defining characteristic, Elizabeth's eyes were always drawn southward on her first occasion of seeing another woman in the nude. The thought had occurred to her that Agnes, in light of her interest in Elizabeth, might be well-endowed like her. She was not, Elizabeth now saw, but rather sported a natural looking dark triangle perhaps a third the size of Elizabeth's, somewhat larger than Irene's. Agnes' breasts – smaller than Irene's, larger than her own, but Elizabeth had already known that – sat comfortably against her creamy white flesh that had been so carefully guarded from public view all her life, with only the slightest hint of sagging in the absence of a brassiere. The telltale red marks on her flesh showed there had been one moments before, and her agitated arms suggested she was longing to fold them over her breasts. But when Agnes looked up and saw the admiring observation of her equally bare friend, Elizabeth, her relief was palpable.

"See?" Elizabeth asked. "Like I said, it all wears off quickly once you've been seen. Now let's go get in the water already."

With the ice broken thanks to Elizabeth, Irene and Agnes were friends by the time the trio opened the door and stepped into the steamy bath chamber.

A more jaded guest of the baths would likely have expected Elizabeth to usurp all the attention from the women who turned their heads when the loud door opened. But Agnes, in her virgin self-consciousness, imagined all eyes on her nude body as she followed Elizabeth and Irene into the chamber. She was certain her face was a deep shade of crimson; but she thought of her friend's much admired self-confidence and smiled through her embarrassment. As Elizabeth and Irene slipped gracefully into the hot water just before her and she exchanged welcoming smiles with the other women, that embarrassment gave way slowly but surely to the comforting envelopment of the bath.

Owing perhaps to it being a rainy Monday, the bath was quite crowded. Where a dozen was usually something of a crowd, there were now at least twenty women in the water. Elizabeth knew most of them, but there had been a couple who had cast what she knew so very well as the impressed first-time glance at her lady-garden upon her entry. "Refreshingly anonymous for me, that was," she whispered to Agnes and Irene with a laugh once they were all in the water.

"Not anonymous enough," Irene muttered under her breath, as her sometime-antagonist Lindy – a near-constant presence in the baths on weeknights – appeared out of the crowd to greet them. Recalling her manners, though, she greeted Lindy warmly. "Good afternoon, dear."

"Elizabeth! Irene!" Lindy gushed. "I see you have met my new friend...oh, heavens..."

"Agnes," Agnes reminded Lindy, whom she now recognized as the woman at the bar who had told her about Elizabeth.

"And of course I've met her, Lindy," Elizabeth said with more patience than she was feeling. "She is staying at my home, after all."

"Of course, dear!" Lindy said with a girlish giggle. She patted her friend, Marlene, on the back while Marlene was engrossed in a conversation with a few other women behind them. "Yes, of course. It is only, Elizabeth, Marlene here and I saw her and her friend the art student at the bar just the other night – "

"Edward is my fiancé, not my friend," Agnes interjected.

"Fiancé, of course," Lindy said with a knowing look at Elizabeth. "Far be it from me to argue against your arrangement, my dear. That is your business. In any case, Elizabeth, Agnes asked Marlene and myself about the baths and if we knew anyone who frequented them, and we said of course we do, and what did you say your last name was? And when I heard 'Marlston,' I thought, ah, all you need to do is talk to your hairy housemate."

Agnes looked aghast at Lindy's rude nickname for her friend, but Elizabeth and Irene were accustomed to her bawdy humour and laughed diplomatically together. "And talk she did, as you can see, Lindy," Elizabeth said. "But you know me – female or male, I can always tell when another person has heard of my reputation at the baths."

"Yes, of course!" Lindy grinned. "Of course. You must forgive me, Elizabeth, I may have divulged certain of your charms to Agnes' friend – I mean fiancé – at the bar. I hope he has not been untoward with you!"

"Not in the least," Elizabeth reassured her. "He has been a perfect gentleman every time we have been in one another's company. Agnes can tell you as much."

"Quite," Agnes said, forcing a smile now. "Edward is friendly to Elizabeth, and he is true to me. There is nothing else to say."

"I am sure he is true to you," Lindy said. "That was not what concerned me about him at all. I am a bit surprised to hear he has spent any time to speak of in Elizabeth's company, though. All he had to say to us was how he was looking forward to painting. I had rather thought he'd have locked himself in his studio by now."

"Edward is very committed to his craft," Agnes replied. "And to me," she added defiantly.

"I am sure he will not cheat on you, Agnes, if that is what concerns you," Lindy said. "Rather, I was merely speaking out of concern that he did not strike me as the sort of man who would attend to your needs. If I am mistaken about that, then I apologize."

"Lindy!" Irene snapped. "That is enough!"

"No!" Agnes piped up. "That is quite fine, Irene, thank you. Lindy, I have no doubt at all that Edward shall attend to my every need once we are married."

"Once you are married?!" Lindy's flippant manner vanished, and she looked genuinely concerned of a sudden. "Are you telling us you and your Edward have not had a roll in the sheets yet?"

"We are waiting until we are married," Agnes confirmed. "Not that it is any of your business."

"Indeed it is not my business," Lindy admitted. "But just in case of troubles with Edward, my friend, I hope you are good with your hands."

"Lindy, that will be all!" Elizabeth hissed in a voice with which even Lindy knew better than to argue.

"Whatever did she mean, good with my hands?" Agnes asked Elizabeth and Irene as soon as their nosy adversary had floated off to mingle with Marlene and her other friends again.

"You are joking, aren't you?" Irene asked furtively, after a look behind her to ensure there were no eavesdroppers.

Elizabeth waited a respectable moment through Agnes' bewildered silence, and then turned to Irene. "I don't believe she is, and that's perfectly fine. We all have to learn these things from someone else at some time, did you not? I did."

"Of course," Irene said. "I am sorry, Agnes."

"Agnes," Elizabeth said gently. "Lindy has a very big mouth and a reckless attitude about men, but she does mean well. I believe she is concerned that Edward is perhaps overly committed to his painting and may not attend to your needs in the bedroom once you are married, and she hopes you are willing and able to attend to your own needs."

"My own needs..." Agnes had overcome her initial embarrassment at being nude in public, but this was something else again! Her voice dropped to a whisper and she darted her eyes back and forth between Irene and Elizabeth. "Do ladies do that?!"

"Women do," Irene said defiantly.

"All the time," Elizabeth said.

"I never..." Agnes started, then gave up.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of," Elizabeth told her. "Perhaps your mother told you it was not ladylike?" A fairly nasty memory of her own mother surprising her in her bed one long-ago morning flashed through her mind.

"She certainly did," Agnes said. "But I was unsure in those days of just what she was referring to. Then later, I heard stories of how men and boys so often abuse themselves, but us?"

"I assure you, Agnes, it is not self-abuse," Irene said. "Not when men do it, and not when we do it. It is great fun to do and to watch."

"You mean you have seen Benjamin...I am sorry, Irene, I should not ask such a thing!" Agnes cast her eyes downward, until she remembered that would mean staring at her own naked body and those of her friends.

"It is perfectly all right," Irene told her. "In the pool, anything goes. And yes, Benjamin and I have watched one another pleasure ourselves. It's beautiful to watch and to share."

"Well," Agnes confessed after a deep breath. "That does sound like great fun. I should think it would interest Edward, if I could learn how."