“I do not mean to prevent you from seeing your friends,” Elizabeth told her aunt about a fortnight into her stay, when she was declining yet another invitation from a friend—this one for a dinner the following week.
“You prevent nothing, my dear,” her aunt said. “I only wish I could provide you with the kind of friends and entertainments you deserve.”
She meant this comment to be friendly, but Elizabeth shook her head vigorously. “I deserve nothing particular. I am your husband’s niece; I am not above your company, nor your friends.”
“Yet your education is so fine, and your connections—”
“You are my connections, Aunt—my truest connections. My stepmother’s influence is my only claim, and I am happier without it.”
“I am glad you are happy,” Mrs. Gardiner said kindly, taking Elizabeth’s hand. “However, you are accomplished, well-read, well-educated, and certainly deserving of the best possible company.”
“I am not sure I know very many people,” she replied, “who would care for me at all if they did not know I was connected to her.”
As Elizabeth spoke these words, she was not thinking of anybody in particular, but while her aunt replied and assured of her impressions being false and unfair to her own merits, Elizabeth’s mind drifted to Mr. Darcy. She believed he was a decent and kind man, and she had been growing by and by to like him—yet she knew that not even he could be interested in her while she lived in Gracechurch Street with her uncle. How very prejudiced against her connections he had been at first! Yet ultimately, her stepmother’s family had singled her out with their attention, and Mr. Darcy had thenceforth been convinced of her worth. If only he had felt her worthy before! As it was, she could not quite be confident in him or the constancy of his interest in her. It had now been weeks since they had last met, and she knew not when she would ever see him again, or under what circumstances.
Feeling disconnected from the people she had moved among for years, and moreover guilty for not being more grateful to her aunt and uncle for their kindness to her, Elizabeth was diverted a week hence when Miss Watson wrote her a letter—for now that she was in London, they corresponded very regularly—and told her of a masquerade ball to which many of the school’s pupils planned to attend with their families the following Saturday.
It is taking place at the Haymarket Theatre, and I daresay everybody of any standing in town shall be present, for it is just the thing. If either of your sisters were out, I would take one of them—and I wish I could take you!
“What is in your letter?” Mrs. Gardiner asked her niece after Elizabeth placed the letter on her lap and frowned.
“Oh, Miss Watson writes of a ball,” she replied wistfully. She held up the card and explained its contents to her aunt.
“Why, you must go!” she said, smiling. “Oh, how I loved a masquerade ball when I was your age! Nothing could be more pleasant. Do say you will, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth sighed, for she knew not how to reply.
“Please do not decline on my account,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “I would be delighted if you could have an evening so grand and so happy. I will do everything I can for you to make it a success.”
“You are so very kind to me,” Elizabeth replied. “Only, I have not a mask for the occasion.”
“You cannot decline only on that account,” Mrs. Gardiner replied. “I have a mask you can wear. I have not used it since I was a girl, but it is just right for the purpose.”
As she spoke, Mrs. Gardiner stood to go to her room, where she retrieved the mask—a black, full-face covering with jewel-toned feathers all around in sweeping arches. It was dramatic, but it certainly was not in keeping with the current fashions for masquerades. Elizabeth nearly laughed when she saw it—but her aunt was correct that it served the purpose. She would rather go to the ball than not, even in a mask that looked so horrid, and therefore she was quick to approve of the plan.
“I will accompany you myself,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “I can have no need to wear my own mask, if I am a chaperone.”
“But will not you and Uncle Gardiner wish to dance and be merry with the rest of us?”
She smiled. “We are rather past the age of such merriment, Lizzy, but I am not past the age of wishing to provide every entertainment and happiness for my niece.”
All was decided, and Elizabeth was thoroughly delighted with the plan. She had been long enough in isolation from her usual friends and acquaintances. It was almost certain, if he was in town, that Mr. Darcy would be in attendance at this ball—and who knew how many other people whom she liked? The hope of seeing him made Elizabeth so eager for Saturday that not even the threat of Lord Norwich could diminish her excitement.
CHAPTER 21
__________
Though Mrs. Gardiner had intended to accompany Elizabeth herself, on Friday morning she awoke with a dreadful head cold. She was relegated to her bed where she might recover in relative safety and quiet, and the plan for any merriment that weekend was suspended.
When her aunt summoned Elizabeth to her room that afternoon, Elizabeth was quick to reassure her that she suffered very little disappointment on account of the ball. “As to that, I care much more that you are well, Aunt. There will be other balls. I pray you will focus on your health and forget about me.”
“That is the last thing I wish to do,” her aunt replied. “Your pleasure in attending a masquerade ball, my dear Lizzy, would be far greater than you now realize. You have not been to a masquerade before. The atmosphere is so unlike any other ball—the mystery, the intrigue is unlike anything else. You must attend, you simply must.”
“I cannot go alone,” Elizabeth said.
“No, but what of Miss Watson? Can you not go to her and ask her to accompany you? I cannot think she would refuse, so long as she is in your family’s employ.”
It was a wonderful idea, so wonderful that Elizabeth was surprised that she had not thought of it before. Miss Watson was the perfect person to escort her, better even that Mrs. Gardiner. The brightness of Elizabeth’s smile conveyed her happiness with the idea, and Mrs. Gardiner encouraged her to call at the school before the day was over.
In the weeks since her sisters had returned to London, Elizabeth had not yet seen them, though she had written several times. She had intended to call almost as soon as they arrived, but it was never convenient for her sisters to receive her there at a time mutually agreeable to her aunt and uncle. Her uncle’s business was more demanding in the autumn, and Elizabeth did not wish to cause her aunt and uncle any distress by requesting they go out of their way.
Today, however, Mrs. Gardiner was insistent. Elizabeth would use her husband’s carriage, which should not inconvenience anybody so long as it was done soon. Elizabeth was off in an instant. Ascending the steps to the school as a visitor rather than a pupil and boarder was an odd feeling. Again, Elizabeth felt that twinge of disappointment that came with not quite belonging in the world she had formerly known. It was not without trepidation that she awaited her former governess in the sitting room downstairs, for who was to say that Miss Watson would still act the same toward her? Though Elizabeth had long thought of her as a motherly figure, the fact remained that she was her friend only because she was her governess. Perhaps their friendship, like some others of Elizabeth’s lately, was wearing out. Perhaps Miss Watson would not be happy to see her. She might even be offended by her request for her to accompany Elizabeth to the masquerade ball.
Nervousness increased so rapidly that by the time Miss Watson entered the room, Elizabeth was nearly ready to leave without seeing her at all. To confront a person whom she had longed for all summer was nearly too much to bear.
When Miss Watson and Elizabeth beheld each other, however, all Elizabeth’s fears dissipated.
“Why, there you are at last!” Miss Watson cried, and she rushed to her former protégé with such affection and tenderness that Elizabeth was almost embarrassed that she had ever worried. “Why have
you not come sooner? My dear girl, you knew that I could not come to you! Oh, how your sisters have missed you—which is nothing to how much I have missed you, I assure you. But stand back, and let me see how you have grown. There, now.” She raised her eyebrows and gave Elizabeth a rather stern look—or as stern as she could manage while feeling so happy to see a young woman whom she loved like a daughter. “What is this you are doing with your hair? Is this how you wear it now?”
Elizabeth touched her hair self-consciously, brushing it over her shoulders. Her aunt’s maid now had the charge of fixing her hair, and she was not particularly skilled in setting hair as long and thick as Elizabeth’s. Mrs. Gardiner’s hair was short, and not being certain how to fix hair that was longer, the maid usually left Elizabeth’s curls loose, sweeping them off of her forehead but otherwise leaving them to fall naturally as they would.
“No,” Elizabeth said, “but my aunt’s maid likes it this way.”
“Your aunt employs a maid who leaves your hair only half done? What an odd sort of place their home must be!”
Elizabeth blushed and assured her it was not an odd place at all. However, she was rather surprised at herself for not having insisted upon her hair being done up more fully. The fact was, she had now been several weeks removed from fashionable company, and she had begun to think such measures less important than she had always known them to be formerly. Wearing her hair loose was not a total faux pas if it could be curled and set to greatest advantage, but in general it was a vast departure from how she herself preferred to style her hair. “I suppose I ought to have thought more about it,” Elizabeth said.
“Indeed,” Miss Watson replied. “I do not blame you, however. My poor dear, you must be as wretched without me as I am without you. It has been so horrible to be apart from you and Jane, after so many years when we have always been together!”
“That is why I am come,” Elizabeth said, recollecting her purpose. “My Aunt Gardiner has sent me, for she knows that I have longed to see you since you came to London. Today was the first opportunity I have had to come to you.”
“I am glad that she thinks of such things,” Miss Watson said. “I believe I would like her, were I to meet her.”
“You would!” Elizabeth said. “I am sure you would, and I know that she would like you, as well. But today, I am afraid she has come ill.”
“Oh!” Miss Watson, who as a governess was always highly careful where illness was concerned, looked all nervousness. “You must not spend much of your time with her while she is ill, Lizzy. It would be dreadful if you were to come ill!”
“I am quite well, however,” Elizabeth replied. “She sent me to you because she was to accompany me to the masquerade ball, and now it will be quite out of her power to attend.”
“That is unlucky,” Miss Watson said, but a sparkle in her eye showed that she was not totally unsuspicious of where Elizabeth’s conversation would now lead.
“Yet she has had an idea, and I am sure you will like it—she has said that you should accompany me to the ball. That is, of course, if you are unengaged tomorrow evening. I know that you have many—”
“Oh, Lizzy, I would be delighted!” Miss Watson beamed. “Good heavens, why did not you think of it before? I shall never have time to procure a mask for you now.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Never mind that. My Aunt Gardiner is to lend me an old mask of her own.”
“Old? How old?”
“I do not know. It is a full mask, so nobody shall know who I am. It does not exactly match my new gown, but I can wear an older gown just as well.”
Miss Watson did not look convinced. “Elizabeth, consider how many people shall be in attendance. The most important, influential, fashionable people in London—and you, in a gown who knows how many years old, utterly out of fashion!”
“It is not so bad as all that,” Elizabeth said, blushing. “Besides, none of my gowns are, as you say, ‘utterly out of fashion!’”
“Yet you shall not look as striking as you ought to look,” Miss Watson said. “Lady Sarah would—” but she stopped short, seeming to recollect something or other. Elizabeth paused a moment to allow her to finish her thought, but nothing more was said.
Elizabeth sighed. “There is no need to be so particular. I know what I will wear, and now I know who will accompany me. All my needs, you see, have been met. I only wish there was time for you to find a mask for yourself.”
Miss Watson replied, “As your chaperone, it is not strictly necessary that I wear a mask. I have a new gown, too, that I purchased a week ago, and I am sure that will suit the purpose. Though, perhaps you ought to wear it,” she added thoughtfully.
Elizabeth only laughed, however. “Nay, Miss Watson, you know I am taller than you! I insist, I am perfectly easy on the subject of clothing. I have a dress and a mask. I have everything I need to make the evening most pleasant, for now I have you.”
Elizabeth remained at the school until the afternoon break from classes brought her sisters downstairs, and then her reunion with them was almost as happy as her meeting with Miss Watson had been. She returned to Gracechurch Street with a heart very full and a mind eager for the pleasures the following evening would bring.
It was agreed upon by all the parties involved that Mr. Gardiner’s carriage would first retrieve Miss Watson, then come for Elizabeth, and finally convey them both to the theatre where the ball was to take place. Elizabeth had had no qualms about her gown before Miss Watson saw it, but she could not quite remain comfortable when she observed how Miss Watson received her.
“Perhaps we ought to change dresses, you and I,” Miss Watson said upon Elizabeth’s entrance into the carriage.
“Why?” Elizabeth asked, pressing down the fabric of her skirt with her hands. “It is not so bad, is it?”
“It is perfectly fine,” Miss Watson replied, “except that it is old. You could not have picked any item in your wardrobe that was older, Lizzy. This gown has nothing about it that stands out—nothing to set you apart from the crowd.”
“I have no need of being set apart from the crowd,” Elizabeth replied. “Come now, Miss Watson. I thought I looked quite pretty. This mask is so exotic, and I am quite pleased with how my hair is fixed.”
“You are always beautiful,” Miss Watson answered, “but tonight you are beautiful despite your fashion, rather than because of it.”
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. “You have always cared a great deal more for such things than I do.”
“Yes,” Miss Watson agreed, “but you would do well to think of it more. What will gentlemen think when they see you?”
“I daresay they shall not know who I am,” Elizabeth replied with a sly smile, “for it is a masquerade.”
“Laugh if you wish,” Miss Watson said, “but if you are not recognizable as the young woman of fashion and significant standing among London’s elite families that you truly are, then you shall not receive the same attention you are used to receiving.”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth said. “But now I am becoming cross. Let us speak of something else.”
Miss Watson obliged, but when they arrived at the masquerade, Elizabeth soon found that her former governess’s predictions had been more or less the case. From the moment she entered the masquerade ball, she found herself quite unpopular for the first time in her recent memory.
The theatre was decorated in twinkling lights, with abundant candles and mirrors reflecting light upon light. The crowd was overwhelming, for though the ball was semi-public, a great many people were admitted and even more were gathered on the street outside to catch a glimpse of the fashions worn by attendees. The masks and gowns worn by all inside were incredible. All the ladies wore evening dresses, and many were white—in keeping with the prevailing fashion of the times. Elizabeth wished she had worn white herself, but she was instead in a pale blue gown that better matched the feathers on her mask—and the mask itself, she soon realized, was highly out of fashion with
what was being worn by the others. She had known it to be an old mask, but now she recognized that it was not only old but ugly by comparison. The other ladies wore sequin masks, mostly white, with bands of beads in elegant hoops on the sides. Very few people wore full masks, and those who did were usually men. Elizabeth was self-conscious almost as soon as she and Miss Watson entered the room. She glanced at her former governess, but without being able to see her protégé’s expression, Miss Watson could not interpret her feelings. She merely smiled at Elizabeth.
“How elegant everybody looks!” Miss Watson cried. “I am quite enamored, I assure you. Why, look at the young ladies here! See how their masks sparkle. Oh, how I wish I could have found such a mask for you!”
These were her comments, and the general direction of her thoughts did not vary as she and Elizabeth moved among the crowd. Dancing was soon to begin, and Elizabeth felt slight trepidation, for she began to suspect that Miss Watson’s predictions for the evening would come true. There was nothing about her fashion for the evening to set her apart from the others except that which made her look less elegant, less modern, and less attractive. Nobody would wish to dance with her if they did not notice her, and her general reception within the first half hour of the ball proved to her that her very presence was quite unnoticed by everybody.
Elizabeth and Miss Watson moved about the crowd, and though Elizabeth saw many people whose faces she could recognize behind their half-masks, she did not venture to speak to any of them. She felt self-conscious, aware of being lower in society now than she had been used to being. She, who had once been a pupil of London’s finest finishing school, now was merely a guest at her uncle’s house near Cheapside. She felt like an outsider in such a fashionable assembly, and the more she fretted, the less equal to interacting with any other guests she became.
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