Page 42 of The Cheapside Runners
“Not necessarily. We all speak with our eyes, and when you find the right man, the eyes will say a good deal. Forgenuineemotion, we cannot help it. For a particularly shy man, it may be the only way he really can communicate at first—but you have to be aware of the charlatans. Before you listen to what a man’s eyes say, you should be aware of what his posture says, what his character says, what he says by how he treats those below him. May I assume none of you would take up with a man who beats a dog?”
The gasp was enough to confirm the thesis.
“How about a man who beats a servant?”
The reaction was not quite as abrupt, since many gently born people were taught that servants wereless, and that sometimes they had to be beat because they would cheat you otherwise.
“I am disappointed to see your reaction was not as strong, but you should bemoreconcerned for the servant than the dog. Neither can really fight back without consequence. Remember this rule—and remember it well. Any man who beats a dog, a servant, or a street urchin will just as likely beat his wife.”
They all sat staring at her in stunned silence. She had shown them a few women who had been beaten on the second day of the course, and she had taken them through a pauper’s grave and described some of those she knew personally who now rested there. It had been as stark as the visit to the woman dying of pox.
Mrs Black saw that she was overwhelming her charges, as expected, so she moved onto lighter fare.
“Now, look at that group there… the one with the red-haired man and the brunette lady.”
They all moved their attentions away.
“Look at his posture… his countenance… his eyes. He slouches more than when he was just walking alone, and he looks at his feet more often than his companion. He answers reluctantly but looks at his companion when he speaks. He moves his gaze from her face to her feet without dwellingoverlong on her décolletage.He is probably shy.He may very well be a good man, and I would take him over Mister Blondish any day,but that can be faked too. You have to be careful in your attentions. My hackles raise like an angry dog at Mr Blondish, but I would give Mr Redhead a second look if I were interested.”
“How do you fix his attention if you have to study him for a twelve month before you know anything?” Miss Blue asked.
“An excellent question. You take it slowly. The carpenters say, ‘measure twice, cut once.’ That is not a bad motto to live by. For example, I bet you could name several men who singled you out within minutes of meeting you, Miss Blue. They entered a ballroom, went unerringly to the prettiest girl in the room like a bee to a flower, and commenced flirting immediately?”
Her normal serene countenance turned hard. She ground her teeth and swallowed several replies before she answered, “I could.”
“And I suppose at least one of them continued his attentions relentlessly, over days or weeks?”
“Yes,” she bit out angrily.
“Sad to say, but such men are more often than not rather inconstant. Youmighthave been one more conquest in a long line, or perhaps he was dissuaded by factors other than yourself.”
Before Jane could react angrily, Elizabeth held up her hand for silence.
“That said, I cannot pronounce such judgement on him. Perhaps he had met a lot of angels in the past but might have finally found true love with you. Perhaps he is inconstant and not to be trusted. Perhaps you hide your feelings so well he could not tell if you were similarly interested. Women are taught to hide our feelings, which is counterproductive and stupid, but required by our society. Whilst it is fine for a man to attach himself to you like a yipping dog at your heels, thesame behaviour from you would label you fast, a light skirt, or a fortune hunter. It is a fine line.”
Jane ground her teeth in frustration.
“Can you tell me, Miss Blue, what any of those menreallythought about you with any confidence, after what we have learnt these days? Can you honestly say you learnt anything from his countenance and actions? Were any of these erstwhile suitors Mr Blondish, Mr Shy, or something else? Did any of them ask questions andreallylisten to your answers, treating you like a rational human being rather than a caricature of a beautiful and agreeable woman?”
She finally shook her head.
“I know it seems a sorry business. It is difficult, though not hopeless. Perhaps he is the fish that got away, or perhaps you just need to set your hook better. We shall discuss that at the end.”
“What do you mean?” Miss Violet asked.
“The first ten days of your fortnight is spent in general training, as we have been doing. The last four, I will be working with you individually and trying to see if any of your fish can be brought back to the line—presuming they are worth catching in the first place.”
They all nodded, mostly in confusion. Some had never had a single beau in the first place, while some had let one or more get away. Time would tell if any of them ever caught anything worth keeping.
~~~~~
After another two hours of watching soldiers and other men interact with the women of the town, with Mrs Black narrating what she could see, and what she could not possibly know, they all found themselves quite peckish.
They were a good two hours from their lodgings, so Mrs Black took them to a tea shop across the road. The fact that atable was already reserved and a waiter greeted her by name was not the least bit suspicious.
The ladies tried not to stare at the poor waiter, whose face had the worst scar any of them had ever seen. He looked like a wax statue that had melted. He let them stare without flinching, then left to fetch their order.
“I have been telling you about thebadmen of the world, so allow me to redress the balance lest you decide to become spinsters for life,” Mrs Black said with a chuckle.
