Hot Chocolate
Finally, after months, things were running smooth enough for Anne to do things of leisure in the day. If you could call it that. Sometimes social calls were more exhausting than actual business. It was a sort of exercise were it not? You were expected to act a certain way, talk of this or that and people were watching you closely to see if they could report anything of you to the other neighbours on the next call they made. Anne thought it must be because they were not allowed to exercise enough, the mind so to speak. If ladies were allowed to study, in depth, any subject of their choosing – the world would be a much brighter place. She could hardly blame them for gossiping – there was nothing else to do! Hell, if Anne was forced to sit idle with a flipping needle all day - she would run her tongue mad with gossip just to have something to cling to.
On another note, she found it very interesting that ladies always seemed so much more well versed than men – even when bereaved all formal education that men were granted. Sure the odd Molly didn’t have the knowledge to make a deep analysis or whatever, but the common sense – the things they would depict only by hearing scrapes of it – Yes, Anne was certain that if she and her fellow ladies were allowed to further educate themselves, women would be unstoppable – which was probably why men held them back, Anne thought and rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the conversation.
They were having tea with Miss Catherine Rawson and Miss Harriett Parkhill and whereas Anne thought that Catherine was alright and lovely, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of wanting to bang her head bloody against the table every time Harriett opened her mouth. Not to say that Anne wasn’t fair, she had been fair – Harriett had been the one who tried to poison Ann against her, and she had been extremely rude to her and now Anne found she couldn’t stand the woman. But for Ann’s sake, and because Marian was constantly threatening to kick her in the shins, Anne remained civil during the social calls.
Right at the moment Miss Parkhill were speaking of a gentleman she had met at a dance and Marian had been replying attentive as well as Catherine. Ann listened but refrained to nodding every now and then whilst Anne couldn’t care less about some stupid man that had been so ‘gentlemanly’ when all he had done was shown common courtesy. Another problem Anne had with society. A woman could be all that is perfect and lovely but say ‘no’, a simple respectful ‘no’ to a man and be painted as the worst sort of monster, a rotten orange and then never be praised when she was perfect. Whilst a man could be a scoundrel, a beast and then do one decent thing and be called a ‘perfect gentleman’. How far would women go? Anne was certain that if she had been tied to a man; she might have killed him within the first week. She was full of admiration for women who lasted through the belittling, the tyranny and the patronising from their men. It mattered not that they had tied themselves to various important men, no, Anne admired them because they hadn’t killed them. How could one accept such a fate? To be under a man, when one as a woman was much more capable, and as much as he an individual of free will. No men are just a privileged, disgusting bunch of pricks. Whilst she, because she was born a woman, had to work her arse off for the little freedom she might achieve in a world painted by patriarchy.
“He was such a dear!” Harriett giggled, and Anne stopped a gag noise from escaping her, because no – he wasn’t, and she could do so much better – even if she was a real pain.
“What’s the first thing you notice when a man tries to get in your good graces?” Catherine asked, suddenly looking at Anne who startled at being spoken to, sat up straighter in her seat,
“The audacity.”
“Have you never had a gentleman woo you, Miss Lister?” Harriett asked curiously and Anne wanted the ground to open up and swallow her – she did not want to talk about this. Ann hid her mouth behind her hand as she muffled her laughter, and Marian had to bite down her tongue.
“It has occurred in the past… um, but I haven’t encouraged it. Freedom is far too precious!” Anne was really uncomfortable on this subject and wished they’d change it. For it was walking on far too thin ice. Something could be revealed – unveiled.
“I thought you were a little bit in love with that boy, what was his name? – Matthew Lucas.” Marian smirked at Anne who almost resolved to hitting her sister. It had been years since she heard that name – she had almost forgotten him. Anne was certainly not in love with him. He was five years older than herself and had read at Cambridge. He would secretly tutor her behind a large oak. He was ‘unnatural’ or to be perfectly candid – he was exactly as God made him, so natural, but to the rest of the world… Anne closed her eyes in pain. Matthew Lucas had moved to Scotland where he had later been hanged after being exposed lying with another man. She had found comfort in him and he in her. They had been rather good friends for those months when he’d be home and teach her everything from history to science. They had had passionate debates, and he had berated society for denying her higher education. He was the one who had suggested she go to Paris and get private tutoring.
“Good Lord, Marian.” Anne scoffed,
“What, is it so strange I’d think you were a bit smitten with him? You spent a lot of time together.” Marian defended herself, though she knew, of course she knew her sister had never been in love with a man, she was just teasing her.
“I preferred it when you thought I was trying to sell Shibden.” Anne replied dryly, and they laughed, everyone except Harriett who just looked miserable in her own conceited nature. Ann noticed, and as she had no want for a real argument to spark, she stood up suddenly, surprising everyone,
“Hot chocolate!”
“What about it?” Anne asked, her face all amusement and Ann glanced at her,
“I think we should have some. It’s cold outside and Christmas is approaching – I’d say it was rather appropriate. Much more festive than tea!”
“Marvellous!” Marian jumped up as well, clasping her hands together a bit overenthusiastic, sensing that Ann was trying to distract Anne and Miss Parkhill from a contretemps.
“Anne, why don’t you ask the servants for some?” Ann asked, giving her a look and Anne frowned,
“What? Why?”
“Because they are your servants, as you never tire of reminding me.” Marian stared at her, willing her to understand, and Anne looked between her and Ann and nodded, and said slowly,
“Alright, then. I’ll get you some of that… hot chocolate.”
Ann sighed relieved, she really didn’t like when people argued, and she didn’t want Miss Parkhill to say more ill-fitting things to her wife. Anne deserved better than to be talked back to in her own home, especially regarding things of love. Now Anne had said, all Christmas, that there wouldn’t be any hot chocolate served because she didn’t like the sweet drink, and besides it was too closely linked to a disappointment ten Christmases ago. Ann and Marian however had hidden in the kitchen, drinking Hot cocoa with each other. Once, they managed to sneak Aunt Anne some, they had almost gotten caught, but Ann distracted Anne, she took her by the hand and pulled her eagerly away from their hide-out to her study and gave her something else to think about, Anne had thought her lips tasted unusually chocolate-like but Ann had denied it, and laughed at her, and then pressed another kiss to her lips to make her forget about her suspicions about chocolate.
Anne did however return shortly, and Mrs. Cordingley hurried in after her with the tray, carrying the cups and the pot filled with steaming hot chocolate. The tall brunette sank down on the sofa next to her wife again, closer than was necessary, but Anne did so with all the usual elegance, making it appear merely friendly. As Cordingley placed the tray on the table, Anne gave her a nod, and waved her hand,
“Thank you Cordingley!”
“Ma’am.” Cordingley made a slight curtsey before leaving the room again. Ann offered to pour for everyone. When Anne was the only one left without a cup, Ann glanced at her, raising an eyebrow,
“Would you like some hot chocolate?”
“Yes.” Anne said giving Ann one of her famous looks, Ann rolled her eyes at her, handing her a cup before pouring her own. When she sat back down, Ann leaned towards Anne with a small smile,
“I thought you didn’t drink hot chocolate?”
“Mm, I drink it in solidarity. There was a time when women were excluded from chocolate drinking… only men were allowed to drink it.”
“You drink it to make a statement about something that was a thing about a hundred years ago?” Ann asked amused, her lips twitching upwards, and Anne gazed at her with a smirk,
“Hm… we must always stand up for our rights!”
“I agree, chocolate drinking is one of the more important rights we need to fight for.”
“Mock me all you want, Mrs Walker… but you have to start somewhere. In about a hundred years or two, we might be ready to claim our right to vote.” Anne told her, and she couldn’t help but glance down at her wife’s delicious lips, wishing she could kiss her.
“Right to vote?” Ann smiled,
“Yes, and then, maybe people like us might marry officially.” Anne’s smile was sad, and Ann touched her leg to hers discreetly as they couldn’t display any intimate affection in a sitting room full of people.
“Let us drink hot chocolate all day every day then!”
“Mm.” Anne couldn’t help but grin wide at her wonderful wife. How she wished she could parade her thus to the world. But alas for now they would enjoy drinking hot chocolate – a small victory in this world, and then later, when their guests had left – they might sneak away and share a few warm, chocolate tasting kisses. Yes, Anne thought smiling as she brought the cup to her lips, hot chocolate wasn’t a foul drink after all. It was lovely, sweet and would forever remind her of her Ann.