"Ruin and Redemption"

Lizzie, Esme and Charleston pt. 3

“Yes, of course, “ said Derrick, his brain in a haze, not knowing what he was agreeing to, “When will I see you again?” The only question which had any importance for him at the moment.

“I will meet you later on tonight at your hotel, and we will begin the lesson, non?”

“Um, I’m not sure…”

“It will be no more than the usual fee, Derrick. I think she just needs to know the, um, the technique to please you.”

What lesson were they planning? Who was the “She” they were referring to? Lizzie wondered vaguely.

“I don’t know, Esme. Perhaps I could meet with you later?”

“Why not tonight, Derrick? Why do you want to keep it from her?”

“I don’t um, I don’t think she wants to, um, learn, the, um, technique.” He replied to Esme uncertainly.

“Lizzie,” Esme addressed her directly, “Shall I come over to your hotel room tonight and show you how to please your husband?” Esme asked.

“What do you mean?” Lizzie asked dumbly. Had they been speaking about her before?

“My wife is a lady, Esme!” Derrick interjected.

“So? Does not any woman need to know these things?”

“I would like to learn, Esme,” said Lizzie emboldened. Yes, she would very much like to be in the same category as Esme. She did not want to sit on the outskirts of life while her husband lived it with a dozen other women. Whatever she could learn from Esme, she would.

“Wonderful, Lizzie! I will show you all you need to please your husband,” She rose from her seat, looking forward to her instruction time with Lizzie later on in the evening.

“Thank you, Derrick, for a wonderful time.” She walked away from them, opening up her parasol, and hailing a passing carriage. Seeing them still sitting on the bench, stunned, she gave a passing, flirtatious wink.

Derrick smiled weakly back. Did his naïve wife have any idea what she had gotten herself into? Derrick stroked her hand gently, wondering how he would get himself and Lizzie out of this one. There was Esme getting into the carriage.

He rose to his feet, leaping up, “Esme!” He shouted futilely as the carriage door swung shut and Esme departed, the black coated horses prancing forward gaily, as if there wasn’t a care in the world. Derrick LaPoint sat down with his head in his hands. This would be the death of him. What in the world was he going to say to Esme when she arrived? Would she even speak to him again if he sent her away? But how could he subject his wife to the kinds of “lessons” his father had subjected him to when he was a boy? Derrick felt that it would have been far better for him to gain experience in his own way, but his father wouldn’t wait for that; And now Esme thought it would be a good idea for his wife to go through that!

“Don’t worry, Derrick, it can’t be that bad. You’ve been with her all morning, and she’s coming by later this evening,” Said Lizzie, not understanding her husband’s angst in the slightest.

He looked at her weakly and smiled. He hoped his eyes conveyed some of the compassion he felt for her.

“My lady,” he finally said, extending his hand. Then he began to feel guilty as he remembered the morning. His thoughts had been so full of Esme. He hadn’t really looked much to see if Lizzie was enjoying herself. Had she liked the show? Had she felt included at all? He wasn’t certain really what had been going on with her while he had been kissing Esme; He had assumed at the time that she had been engrossed in the show. After all, it was some of her favorite type. But had she enjoyed it, really?

“Derrick, what are we going to do now?”

“I’m not sure, Lizzie. I suppose we should join your cousins for Supper. Then afterwards, we’ll go back to the hotel and, and, I suppose Esme will be there then…”

“I will look forward to it, Derrick.”

Derrick gripped her hand consolingly and led her to the street. “Let me hail us a carriage, Lizzie.” He said, making sure to watch so that she did not get splashed by mud or hit by the hooves of a horse that failed to stop.

In the carriage, Derrick straightened his hair, pushing the loose hairs back into his ponytail and pulling the ribbon more tightly. He glanced about nervously, wondering now who of his associates might have seen him sitting with his wife but kissing his mistress. What if Lizzie’s relatives had seen it? What if Lizzie told her relatives over dinner? He was pretty certain now that he had not acted as a gentleman should in taking Lizzie with him, in trying to include her. A gentleman saw his mistress separately, apart from his wife, didn’t he? Derrick wished he knew.

He cleared his throat and reached across the seat. “I didn’t mean to, um, embarrass you today, Lizzie, um, if you were embarrassed. I don’t know. I thought you would like to go out; I didn’t want to leave you sitting at home in the hotel room. I thought you would like the performance, and, and, well, what can I say, did you like it?”

“The performance? Oh, I suppose it was alright, Derrick. I’ve never seen something like that before, so, so, at such close range, my dear.”

Was his wife using double entendre? Derrick was flustered; Lizzie was usually much easier to read than today. Her state frightened him a bit.

“You’re ready to see your cousins, I assume?” He smiled at her nervously.

“I suppose I am. I’m more ready for what comes later.” Lizzie said.

“Lizzie, I don’t think a lady, should, should have to, to attend to what comes later. I suppose, um, what I should do is to tell Esme to meet me tomorrow night, and you and I will get some rest if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t think I feel like resting. I think I feel like doing whatever it is gentlemen do with their mistresses.”

“Surely you don’t mean that Lizzie. I mean, if you do, we could, well, we could try something different if you want…” Derrick racked his brain for something he hadn’t yet tried with Lizzie that fell within the prescribed bounds he allowed himself with her. He checked off possibility after possibility. There was nothing he could safely ask of her. Either he wouldn’t want to ask her because he would not want his wife to accede to the request, or he feared she would be disgusted by it. Finally, he hit upon something.

“Lizzie, you could pretend to be my mistress and we could go to an alehouse I know, where the sailor’s come, and then I could take you home, back to the hotel, and we could, well, if you wanted to we could you know.”

“I’d love that Derrick!” Lizzie said excitedly. But what about Esme?

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t need her, you know, her lesson, Lizzie. Maybe this could be fun and exciting, don’t you think?”

“But you’ll see her while we’re here still? We aren’t going home before you see her again, are we?”

“Well…”

“Truthfully, Derrick.” She warned.

“I don’t think I can. She has already agreed to meet me, at least.”