“Thank you for reminding me of my inadequate bosom, Mary,” Elizabeth sighed, feigning affront, and got hit with a bonnet.
“Oh, shut up, with your perfect complexion. No bosom can make up for this face,” Mary waved a hand around her blemished cheeks.
“Oh, Mary.”
Lizzie was at a loss for words. Throughout the years, she’d offered all kinds of reassurances and compliments to her friend,but nothing changed the fact that Mary’s skin was her greatest insecurity.
“I don’t know what’s happening, it’s like these few weeks it’s worse than it’s ever been.”
“Shall we order more of the willow bark lotion?”
Mary looked away as she shook her head.
“It helped last time, didn’t it?” Lizzie insisted.
“It’s too expensive,” her friend protested.
Lizzie shook her head in disapproval, determined to send Mister Ed out for the lotion as soon as they were done packing.
*
The young women all travelled to Winchester together in Elizabeth’s carriage. It was only mid-March, but the days were already pleasantly warm, so everyone’s spirits were high. Lizzie was the only one bringing her lady’s maid. It was most likely unnecessary for only four days, but Elizabeth needed a friend to help her feel more secure.
“Why, Lady Elizabeth, upon seeing your trunk, one might think you were moving to Winchester!” Amelia exclaimed when she saw it.
“Mary was nervous about our first house party, so I’m afraid she’s overpacked. I have two of everything I shall need, including footwear. Don’t hesitate to ask me if you’ve forgotten to pack anything we might end up needing,” Elizabeth said innocently, and Mary kept her gaze on the window.
When they arrived, Isabella and her mother greeted them at the door. They were shown to their spacious, bright rooms and encouraged to rest before dinner.
The cheerful young maid, whose name was Sarah, brought up a basin of warm water to the room. Elizabeth let the familiar smell of her lavender soap soothe her as she washed up.
Mary helped with her hair, unpacked her trunk, and laid out her dinner attire before retiring to the servant quarters to rest.
“You should stay here with me; no one would know.”
“I don’t want to give anyone a reason to utter a word against you. You know that some of them are just waiting for you to do something they consider low-bred.”
“I know,” Elizabeth sighed. “I shall hate sleeping alone in this big, unfamiliar room.”
“I know,” Mary said, squeezing her hand before getting up from the bed. “I shall come help you get ready for bed.”
The hostess had informed her that dinner would be served at seven. At a quarter to, Elizabeth descended the stairs in her evening primrose gown, and was shown into the drawing room. Several of the guests were already there, and Elizabeth exchanged greetings and pleasantries with everyone: Lady Isabella and Viscount Oakley, Lady Violet and the Marquess, Lady Amelia, and a young woman who looked vaguely familiar and was introduced as Lady Louisa, Viscount Oakley’s sister. She looked almost afraid as she stood next to her brother’s vibrant wife, but then again, almost everyone faded into the background next to Isabella.
“Louisa is accompanying me to London after the party, so I hope you two shall be seeing each other a lot,” Isabella proclaimed enthusiastically.
Elizabeth gave Louisa what she hoped was an encouraging smile and made haste to introduce her to Amelia. The two youngwomen were soon engaged in spirited conversation, and Isabella squeezed Lizzie’s hand gratefully.
“She is such a lovely girl, my Lou, but she hides so much of herself.”
“That is not always a bad thing,” Lizzie reminded her.
Shiny, bright people like Isabella sometimes forgot that it wasn’t some great misery to be different from them.
“I know, I know,” Isabella sighed. “I worry about her, that is all. I worry about some rake taking advantage of hernaïvetéand marrying her solely for her dowry.”
“She has friends to look after her well-being, has she not? And she seems like a girl who has good discernment.”
“Are any of us wise when it comes to love?” Isabella asked, not a trace of irony on her face.
