Lydia considered this for a moment. “What about whales?”

“Whales?” Elizabeth asked.

“What if a whale swims up to the shore and swallows me whole? Like Jonah!”

“Then we shall add a new book to the Bible called the Book of Lydia,” Elizabeth teased.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Lizzy, I am in earnest! I shan’t go in the water if there is any danger of whales.”

Mrs. Forster gasped. “Oh dear, I never had the least thought about whales!”

Elizabeth took a deep breath for patience. “Whales cannot swim so close to land.”

“Are you certain?” Lydia’s fingers worried a bow on her dress.

“Quite certain. Whales are like big ships that sail across the ocean. If they come too close to land they will run aground.”

Mrs. Forster tossed her head. She was very aware of Elizabeth’s greater age and eagerly sought to assert her superiority as a married woman. “You must come sea bathing, Lydia! It is most healthful,” she said with an air of great knowledge. “In The Use of Seawater in the Diseases of the Glands, Dr. Russell recommends regular sea bathing to treat many conditions.”

Elizabeth had heard of the book, which had helped to prompt the popularity of sea bathing in England, but she was dubious about many of its claims. “Do you have diseased glands?” she asked.

Mrs. Forster raised her chin. “Regular sea bathing will keep them healthy.”

“Quite a wise precaution,” Elizabeth agreed.

Upon their arrival at the ladies’ beach, Elizabeth repaired to a small hut to exchange her dress for a bathing costume: a simple long cotton shift. It would not conceal anything once it was wet; the fabric would cling to her limbs and grow transparent. Thank goodness men were not allowed at this beach!

Elizabeth emerged, enjoying the sensation of being unencumbered by skirts and petticoats but wishing she could swim unclothed as she did in the pond at Longbourn. Of course, the pond was very isolated, and she did not fear someone glimpsing her in her state of undress. The bathing costume was the best option for the beach, but Elizabeth still sighed regretfully at her long shift.

Their mother had not approved of swimming, so the younger girls had never accompanied Elizabeth and Jane to the pond. Her mother’s disapproval had not deterred Elizabeth, and she had gone frequently enough to learn to swim.

When Elizabeth emerged from the hut, Lydia and Mrs. Forster were waiting for her; neither had changed their clothes. “Are you not bathing after all?” she asked them.

Mrs. Forster appeared confused. “Lydia and I will change in the bathing machine.”

“Bathing machine?”

The other woman gestured toward the crowded beach. Several carriage-like contraptions stood in the shallow water. The door to one opened and a fully dressed but damp woman emerged and descended a few steps to the beach. Other bathing machines had rolled into the deeper water; bathers emerged through a door at the far end before being submerged in the sea.

“Oh!” Elizabeth had heard about bathing machines that allowed women to be “dipped” in the sea with the help of an attendant who ensured they did not drown. “I simply planned to swim.”

Mrs. Forster gaped at her. “You know how to swim?” Elizabeth might as well have confessed to witchcraft.

“Yes.”

The woman eyed the placid waves suspiciously. “Risk it if you wish! But Lydia and I shall use the bathing machine. I have secured the services of Martha Gunn herself!” She paused as though Elizabeth should be impressed.

“Very well,” Elizabeth replied, neither knowing nor caring who Martha Gunn was.

“She is the most famous dipper in Brighton!” Lydia exclaimed, proud to know something her sister did not.

“What an odd profession,” Elizabeth said to herself. But she mustered a smile for the other women. “How exciting! Please enjoy your sea bathing.”

Elizabeth hurried toward the water while the other women approached one of the machines perched precariously on the beach. Mrs. Forster stopped to speak with great animation to a sturdy, florid-faced woman who stood beside the door. Mrs. Gunn presumably.

Most of the women on the beach wore casual morning clothes and sat on blankets, chatting and laughing. Some held parasols to shield their complexions from the sun while others walked about the beach collecting shells. Numerous women with damp and disordered hair attested to the popularity of the bathing machines.

Elizabeth made her way through the crowds to the edge of the water. The sand and smooth stones under her bare feet were warm, but not too hot. The cool water lapped around her feet as she waded deeper and deeper, up to her knees. Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, she gazed out to the horizon, enjoying the view of endless ocean.

Tags: Victoria Kincaid Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net