What's Proper is Boring

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eloise & thomas.

Almost any other young lady likely would have already pulled back from this situation, already declined any offers given, and pointed out they'd crossed too many boundaries already. Eloise was in too deep now, and almost too used to doing this kind of thing already. She crossed plenty of lines she really shouldn't, had already spent time unchaperoned with those she should not, and at least he appeared to be part of high society. Those she'd been with in recent weeks couldn't say the same, and while it didn't bother Eloise herself, it would likely make a difference to the rest of the ton. She'd always claimed not to care what anyone thought of her, but there were still lines she knew she shouldn't cross. It seemed, however, she'd already crossed most of them.

There was no going back now, so why would she say no to such an offer? She'd be learning something new, with someone who seemed to actually know what he was talking about, and she could think of absolutely no reason why she'd wish to turn such a thing down. If anything, she was all the more eager when he spoke of other gentlemen being insufferable, for so few were quite so honest. Most would have been vague, not daring to agree with her...he was refreshing, in more ways than one.

"I live in London," she told him, her focus still on the horse, and the reins she held. By following his instructions, all seemed to be going well, though she wasn't quite certain that would last forever. This was her first time, after all, and there was a chance the horse would spook, or she'd be too slow to do something. She knew better than to let her focus drift. "So I cannot see why that would not be an option. Are you in London for long?"

Thomas Tawney

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[Thomas Tawney]

Thomas couldn't decide in the moment whether he was feeling excitement or apprehension at her affirmative answer to wanting more lessons. There really was no going back now. To withdraw an offer after he'd already made because he got cold feet was dishonorable. And she lived in London. There was still the chance they'd run into each other under other circumstances, and then they both had to pretend to not know the other. It wasn't proper by any means, but one did what one must to avoid intentionally starting a scandal.

"At least through the end of the season. My estate is only a day's travel from here, so I'm frequently in London year round. How about here at the same time tomorrow? Same buggy, same horse, so it'll all be familiar. And tomorrow, there shouldn't be any reason to be blocking the road." He smiled and shifted his attention back to the road. The grey stallion was doing his work honestly, and the slightly shorter left rein kept him trotting straight.

"When the next turn comes up, collect his stride, tap his side, and then guide him through the turn." He gave her enough direction to be a reminder of the different steps while still leaving it to her to remember exactly how to do them. Not that she was working completely on her own yet, and he was ready to step in with any help that she might need. Tristan's ear flicked back at the sound of his master's voice. The horse was listening and ready as the next turn came upon them.

@eloisebridgerton

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eloise & thomas.

He was in town for the social season. That certainly didn't bode well. What if she ran into him at a ball, what if her mama tried to arrange for her to dance with the new gentleman in town? Her dance card was seldom full, unless she scribbled names on it herself, and she could hardly keep turning men down. As tempting as it often was, she had to at least accept some dances, for while she wasn't big on etiquette, she couldn't always throw the entire rule book out of the window, and she knew it.

With Theo, she'd known she'd never see him at any events, for he wasn't from the same world that she was. She'd only ever bump into him over in Bloomsbury, but this was entirely different. Of course, the situation was different too – she wasn't attracted to this stranger, didn't want to hear his thoughts like she did with Theo. This time it was solely about wanting to learn from him, but that didn't mean she wished to bump into him at any sort of event. People were bound to notice quickly if they'd met before.

"Same time tomorrow," she agreed, already excited to hear that. In a few weeks time, she'd be able to do this on her own, if she truly wanted to. It might be difficult, for she doubted if the drivers would allow her to, but she'd certainly give it a go. Once again, she tapped the horse's side, following the same steps as before to ensure he turned around the corner. It was seeming straightforward enough, though on her own...she wasn't quite sure. "You truly don't mind teaching me each day? I am well aware this is hardly proper, and while it doesn't bother me in the slightest, I would not wish to get you into any sort of trouble."

Thomas Tawney

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[Thomas Tawney]

He nodded approvingly as she brought the horse through the turn. Tristan was the kind of old schoolmaster every beginner student needed. He was forgiving to minor mistakes and had enough experience to know what he was supposed to do in most situations. He pricked his ears and lengthened his stride to a brisk trot, and his tail swished from side to side with each step. On the ground, he looked like a smart carriage horse with a bit of flashy knee action and a nicely arched neck and head.

"I don't mind at all. It's certainly more interesting than sitting at home sipping tea and hearing a list of the events one has been invited to and which invitations one ought to accept. That, and I've never cared much for what's proper. The only time I care about propriety is to avoid a scandal I can't recover from. So long as no one finds out, we won't get into any trouble." Ever since he was a boy, Thomas had been prone to disregarding the rules. And he'd already caused enough of a stir by being the well dressed gentleman without a driver and lying flat in the mud underneath a buggy fixing it like a servant.

"Keep him straight and then carry him through the next turn. If you need a reminder, I'm still here to help, but I want to see you go through the steps without being prompted." Thomas fell silent to give her the chance to focus on driving. Their relationship was built on not knowing much about each other. It was strange, freeing, and he didn't have to feel like she was existing in his presence solely because of his title. Everywhere else, it was Lord Warrington. The name felt strange to hear. That was his father's name. He was just Captain Tawney. He never wanted to be the heir. And for ten years, he'd run away from the life that society demanded.

As they passed a small street that formed a T-intersection with the road around the park, there was a sudden yowling of two stray cats. It almost sounded human like a baby wailing for attention. The stallion turned his head to look, but he remained calm and soon went back to looking ahead as the buggy passed the side street. "Horses look to their leader for direction when they're unsure about something. If he had startled, just keep contact with the bit, cluck at him or shake the reins to keep him moving and thinking. You're telling him that the strange things in the world aren't anything to be afraid of. If the horse isn't baulking in the traces, just keep his feet moving. Stopping just means that he can spend more time thinking about how to be afraid."

Tagged: @eloisebridgerton

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eloise & thomas.

Eloise took some comfort in the lack of information she had on this man. Many would think it entirely uncouth and improper, but that hardly bothered her. It was nice not having to worry about titles, or dowries, or intentions. She didn't know whether he had or was looking for a wife, and it didn't seem to matter. He certainly wouldn't find one in her, but he'd showed no signs of looking for anything other than a patient student. Eloise was seldom the patient sort, but she'd always been a good student — she liked to learn, so long as it was something that interested her.

"At least you have choices. I have no say in which invitations I accept — were it up to me, I would decline them all, though my mama has other ideas." Technically, that wasn't fair. Her mother had said she could take another season off if she wasn't ready yet, but she'd insisted, so intent on finding out who Lady Whistledown was. Thus far, it hadn't served her well at all, she was no closer to uncovering the truth, even now she was out for the season.

At least he seemed to understand, in more ways than one. It didn't seem like there was any risk of anyone finding out about this, unless anyone were to see them, and given that it was early? She wasn't too worried. She hadn't seen another soul about, and hopefully it would remain that way. If they were to spot anyone familiar, perhaps she'd once again have to use her pin money as a bribe, but she would cross that bridge if she ever came to it.

Talk of society was enough to distract her, but she was able to keep her focus somewhat, ensure she kept her grip on the reins, didn't allow the cats to pull her focus. For the most part, aside from turning corners, it all seemed fairly straight forward. Thus far, she felt little reason to worry — were anything to go wrong, at least he was there. Foolish as it may be, given that he was a stranger, she trusted him...at least with this. She may not trust him away from the horse, but he seemed to know what he was doing. "Have you taught others how to do this before? You seem to be a rather skilled teacher."

Thomas Tawney

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[Thomas Tawney]

"My younger sister was much like you at your age. At the beginning of the season, she had a tendency to fall ill more evenings than not. Headaches, dizziness, bouts of nausea. Anything that could inconvenience her enough to need to stay at home and rest for the night, but not so serious as to require the services of a doctor or last more than a few hours. Once, she burned her hand on a candle and claimed that it would be too painful to wear a glove, so she wouldn't have to attend a ball. My friends and I used to write each other invitations to various functions--left handed so as to avoid recognition--and then spent the night out at a pub or someplace else away from the rest of society."

He knew full well what he was doing suggesting ideas for ways to get out of events while still claiming to have done no such thing. His older sister was eager for the Season and enjoyed the parties and functions. Thomas and Sophia were cut from the same cloth and detested the stiff formality and imposing requirements of duty. The ability to choose what he attended was a recent change, and one he greatly enjoyed. The quiet nights spent drawing and sipping a fine glass of wine was relief even in a quiet and lonely house.

"Often enough. I've trained soldiers and staff. Once you feel comfortable with Tristan, I'll start bringing out other horses and carriages. They handle in a similar manner, but they feel different. Even without knowing exactly what your family has and the temperaments of the horses, I want you to feel confident to be able to harness and drive any horse that's trained for it." Ideally, she wouldn't need him at all by the end and they could carry out their lives. They only needed to see each other as long as it took for her to be a competent driver. She was a quick student, so he couldn't imagine it taking too long once she got the overall hang of it. Tristan was a good horse to start on. Pelleas was prone to laziness without a bit of encouragement, and Accalon was too eager in the harness as a pair and often needed to be checked so that he wasn't dragging the other horse. Dapple greys, all of them, and the late earl's one concession to fashion was to have a matched set of horses at all times. Chestnuts, bays, and white horses were easy enough to obtain. Markings could be painted on to make them look more matched. But dapple greys came in a wider range of shades. Six matched horses was an impressive feat.

Tristan started to drift towards the edge of the road again, and his feet dragged with the long straight stretch. Thomas kept quiet, though he noticed the slight change as the stallion dropped his head and shoulder. This was her chance to notice the change and correct it first. And if not, then the buggy wheel bumping at the edge of the road was a more noticeable hint. If it came to that, it wasn't great for the recently repaired axle, but Thomas felt confident enough that it wouldn't break a second time.

[Deleted]

eloise & thomas.

Well, wasn't he full of good ideas? Eloise usually found that she had to grin and bear it, go to every event no matter what. She'd been the one to agree to go out into society, so how could she step back now? She was devious at the events, often scribbling fictitious names onto her dance card, or bluntly denying gentlemen the opportunity to dance, even though she knew that went against all etiquette. Her mother likely knew she had her work cut out for her, but she'd probably realised that when Eloise was seven or so.

"I'm often tempted to pretend to be unwell, though I think my mama would see right through me." Given her distaste for such events, her family and the household help would quickly realise she was simply allergic to balls, and there was nothing truly wrong with her. Still, the inability to wear a glove might be somewhat more devious, for while Eloise couldn't fathom why every inch of a woman's flesh had to be covered, she knew it was supposed to be. "The other ideas, however, are most impressive. I doubt if the fictitious events would work for me, as my mama would wish to come along, seeing as I cannot go anywhere unchaperoned..." she paused. She'd ignore the fact she was unchaperoned at that very moment. "The glove, however...your sister sounds like quite the genius."

It sounded like there were others who thought more along the lines that she did, loathed the way the ton worked, and that was quite the relief. Most in high society simply seemed to accept the way things were, and not long for change in the way she did. Whoever this gentleman was (and she didn't intend to ask), it seemed his family might be more like her than most.

Eloise glanced toward the horse as he began to drift, her attention quickly shifting from Thomas to the matter at hand. She watched the shoulder drop, trying to think back to what he'd previously said. Cautiously, she tugged at the rein, shortening it to attempt to get the creature back on track. "Is this right?"

Thomas Tawney

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[Thomas Tawney]

words • tagged Eloise Bridgerton • credits "My sister was certainly creative in her attempts to outwit our mama. Yours, she sounds very astute. You also strike me as being quite clever, so I'm sure you find your own ways to do as you please." Thomas meant it as a genuine comment. His sister didn't fall into the love of marriage and gentlemen soon enough by anyone's reckoning, and their parents thrust her into marrying a man of good standing and not much else. Somehow, having a daughter as a spinster was worse than an unhappy one. He kept a careful eye as she shortened the rein and straightened out the horse. Tristan picked up his shoulder again, and his gait looked and felt more balanced. "Perfect. You're a quick study. How are you faring?" There was still a good stretch of road left before the next turn. While he knew many people who were reluctant to train horses to canter and gallop in harness, he always considered it a valuable skill to know. Not just for the driver but also the horse who, if not properly trained, was likely to bolt if he wasn't already familiar with the sound and feeling of the carriage behind him. Likewise, a coachman who had never learned to drive with confidence at the higher gaits was also likely to panic in the event the horse did bolt, and any good rider knew that horses were unpredictable. "If you feel ready for it, you can try cantering him down this long stretch. Tristan can be a bit sluggish about the transition, so you'll need to be a bit persistent. Hold the reins steady, then click with your tongue. There's a good chance he'll just speed up. Then lay the whip across his back as a stronger aid. Once he's cantering, shorten the reins until you have contact with his mouth again. Take the turn at a trot, so slow him down at about where that bench is up ahead. Bring your hand back in a steady motion, and once he transitions back to the trot, release the pressure and lengthen the reins." With the plan to meet up daily, Thomas didn't forsee it taking too long to get the young woman to feel confident driving on her own. There was enough time to be able to teach her how to tack up the horses and then drive for awhile, and once she felt confident enough driving a pair, the only real next step was getting her comfortable with a variety of horses. He also didn't mind teaching her on her own carriages, though that was something they'd have to arrange in advance. If she trusted her driver, then he didn't mind bringing just a riding horse and letting him stay with the creature while they went off for the lesson. As for driving four-in-hand, that took a more experienced driver and more time than he believed either of them had.

Please save for me some gallantry that will echo when I'm gone

[Deleted]

eloise & thomas.

That was all undeniably true. Eloise was sure she wouldn't be able to get away with much where her mama was concerned, for while she was an intelligent young woman, her mother was something of a force to be reckoned with. She, after all, had raised eight children, and she'd done much of that entirely on her own. Nobody could accuse the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton of being anything less than brilliant. As much as Eloise longed to get out of these situations, avoid the balls and events, she knew her mother wouldn't believe most excuses. She'd have to get creative.

There would be enough of an issue trying to come up with excuses as to why she was heading out every day to meet with Thomas. She could hardly be honest with her (nobody would approve of her meeting up with a strange gentleman to learn how to drive a carriage, something a young lady shouldn't do anyway), which meant new excuses each morning. The same ones wouldn't fly for too long, for if she blamed a hobby or something of the like, she'd expect results from it eventually. Flower arranging, for example, wasn't an excuse she could use daily. She'd hardly get any better at it when it wasn't the truth.

For the moment, however, she wouldn't worry about that. She'd get through this lesson before she worried about subsequent ones, she was bound to come up with something in the moment, so long as she simply allowed herself to do so. 

Taking a breath, Eloise nodded, gripping the reins, giving her tongue a click as he said. It seemed like she was getting on well with it, but who knew whether or not that was true? Who knew whether she'd remember when she wasn't being talked through it all? Even when she did, she couldn't exactly drive a carriage when he wasn't around. Who would allow that? "I have to say, you are a good teacher. Far more patient and better with instruction than most governesses I had growing up."

_{Thomas Tawney}

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[Thomas Tawney]

words • tagged Eloise Bridgerton • credits One benefit to living alone was that there was no one he owed explanations to whenever he wanted to go out. And as the earl and master of his estate, no one could really tell him otherwise if he chose to take a carriage out early in the morning. It was one of the perks and freedoms afforded to men and married women. His valet had little to say, but they still upheld the relationship of batman and officer. They were both strangers to London society, and their conversations frequently turned to lampooning outlandish idiosyncracies and observations on the ton. "That's quite common with governesses, or so I'm told. I claim no credit for unusual talent in teaching. Simply gratitude for my own patient teachers." He'd been blessed during his time in South Africa to have senior officers who cared about educating their juniors and instilling an interest for further learning. There were the usual collection of fops and pmpous oafs who had no business being in charge of rats much less men. But for the officers who took their commissions seriously and their place in the military as a career more than a hobby, Thomas felt nothing but indebted to their patience and skills. The stallion's ears flicked back hearing the click. However, instead of cantering, he trotted faster and put his head down. It was a brisk pace, and to Thomas's trained eye, he could tell the horse was a bit unbalanced. "Don't let him pull the reins through your hands, and lay the whip across his back. The canter comes from the hind end. Right now, he's laying into the breast collar. By asking him to go forward with more contact on his mouth, you're bringing the energy and motion back towards his tail. They way he has to release that energy is by transitioning to the canter." The same principle held true in riding. Sitting deeper in the saddle and gathering the reins before squeezing or tapping the horse's flank with a whip encouraged the horse to shift the weight off the front end and onto the hindquarters. It was a circular flow of energy at all gaits from tail to nose and nose to tail.

Please save for me some gallantry that will echo when I'm gone

[Deleted]

eloise & thomas.

Of course he'd only been told, for men always had the advantages, right from birth. Her brothers had all gone to school at Eton, and then attended prestigious universities. Anthony had been able to attend Oxford, and she could only dream of having such education. University had never been an option for her, nor would it ever be; no matter how much she wished to step inside a lecture hall, she'd never be permitted to do so. There might be some way around it, some way to sneak herself in, but she was getting herself in enough trouble as it were. Between sneaking of to Bloomsbury to look into Whistledown's identity, and meet up with a boy she definitely shouldn't be, and doing this now with Thomas? Well, that was more than enough trouble already. Plenty of scandal could come out of both scenarios, given that she was unchaperoned each time. Adding fuel to the fire would be foolish.

"You are lucky, though I suppose I don't need to tell you that. Being born as a man was pure luck from the very beginning." It wasn't that she'd wish to be a man, but to have the same rights and freedoms. She'd heard it said that married women had more freedom than the unmarried ladies of the ton; they were able to get away with more, for less eyes were on them, but how was that any sort of a compromise? Being chained to a home, forced to have some insufferable gentleman's children, while giving in to his every whim? That was hardly her idea of freedom.

This, however, was close to it. Her hands on the reins, the wind in her hair, no chaperone in sight...this was the sort of freedom she had always imagined. What could possibly be better than this? It was, however, frustrating not getting it right away...but not surprising. She could ride, but she wasn't the best rider in the world. Her talents lay more in her aim; she was more skilled in the art of shooting, for she could hit a bullseye dead on. Eloise had a steady hand, but almost no patience, something that became all the more clear as she let out a frustrated grunt. She'd been doing fine up until that point, but tugging the reins slightly didn't fix her problems. She knew she needed to focus, listen to what he had told her, go back over the steps in her mind...but taking a deep breath and regaining her patience wasn't an easy thing for the Bridgerton. "Am I doing this correctly? I fear he may have gotten the better of me after all."

_{Thomas Tawney}

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