Glass Roses: A Victorian Fairytale

by Britain Kalai Soderquist

  Frau Schneider is a truly dreadful woman, and I pity her daughter even more than I pity Eliza Hollingdon. Mrs. H. is merely nosy, but the Count is correct to call Frau S. conniving, for that is exactly accurate. But you need not worry about her for long. Rupert will soon be in Paris with you, and then nothing can prevent him from offering for you. Indeed, I shall go down directly and tell Papa that you are already engaged, for I consider the matter as quite settled.

  As if this day could not be more interesting, I have just received some most welcome news from Papa. I stepped away from my letter just now to share the news of your coming engagement and found him in the hall on his way to speak to me. He sends you his best wishes for your happiness and has agreed that we must travel to the Continent for the wedding, if you invite us.

  When I had finished delivering my news, he showed me a letter that had arrived with yours. “It is from Lord Graham. He and Lady Graham will be traveling up to London shortly to attend the opening of the Royal College of Chemistry. Lord Graham has invited me to join him there, and Lady Graham has requested to be allowed to introduce you into London society while we are there. Should you like to go, Bella?”

  “It is very kind of Lady Graham to show an interest in me,” I said, though the happy feeling created by your letter faded slightly at the thought of going into more society. Papa smiled kindly at the look on my face.

  “I think it might be a blessing in disguise, Bella. Consider that the people in town will be new acquaintances, without the familiarity of those here in Kent. And you may find the bustle of town life more helpful than the quiet of the country in distracting you from other thoughts.”

  And so we are to travel again. Morrison is not happy, of course, but as London is much closer than Scotland, he is less disgruntled than he could be. I am trying to look forward to the trip, but the thought of having my efforts at concealment scrutinized by the ladies of London’s social circle fills me with dread.

  The one thing that has reconciled me to the journey is that it will effectively remove me from the reach of Gilbert Cosgrove. Ever since we returned to Kent he has done his best to curry my favor. It is apparent that my refusal of his offer has not cooled his desire for my hand. Whenever we are in company together, he hovers over me and inserts himself into every conversation I try to hold. He also encourages his sister, Mildred, to call on me as often as propriety allows, and he always accompanies her. Eliza Hollingdon has scowled at me so much over the last week that I fear the expression may be permanently etched into her face. I have fallen into a habit of comparing Gilbert to William whenever I am forced to bear his company, and the examination always proves the former to fall utterly short of the latter in every particular. His attentions are yet another reminder of my foolishness, for had I held my tongue I could even now be engaged, and would have had the power to give Gilbert the most determined set down in history. As it is, I must endure his boorish ways and begin to look on my London trip as the blessing Papa named it.

  Write to me in London care of the Grahams at their house in Charleston Street. I shall send this letter to Paris and look forward to your reply. I do not hesitate to say that I do not wish to hear anything less than that you and Rupert are officially engaged.

  Love,

  Isabella

  31 July, 1845

  24 Rue de Verre, Paris

  Dear Isabella,

  Your letter arrived earlier this week but I have only just found time to answer it. Naturally I must begin with my most sincere apologies as to the color of your gown. I am horrified that the modiste made such an error! My instructions were quite specific; I cannot see how she could have misunderstood them. While it is relieving that you find the gown acceptable in spite of this mistake, I intend to inquire minutely into the affair. If you would like another gown, please do not hesitate to ask.

  I am delighted with the prospect of your London visit! It is just the thing to distract you from everything that has been occurring of late. Gilbert Cosgrove is the most provoking man in existence! Your refusal of him was quite clear, and yet he seems to have taken it into his head that he can convince you to care for him. I bless Lady Graham for her kindness in offering to chaperone you in London, for you will indeed be able to escape from him there. I doubt his claims in society would place him high enough to visit amongst Lady Graham’s elegant circle.

  The Season being over, many of my acquaintances will not be in town at present, but I can assure you that there are several families residing there permanently with whom you would not be ashamed to be acquainted. Do avoid the Earl of Clement if possible, as well as Lady Cartwright and her set. There is no telling whether or not they will try to claim your acquaintance on the strength of their connection with us, but they are not worth the attention. However, the Attwoods, Petersens, and Davenports are all respectable people with sons and daughters in plenty to provide pleasant company for you. I shall send a note to one of my particular friends, Charlotte Davenport, by this post and tell her to keep an eye out for you. I think the two of you would suit admirably as friends. But do not feel compelled to pick up all my acquaintances, especially if it is inconvenient to Lady Graham. I only mean to suggest a few names that you might not be disgraced to acknowledge should the subject of my family’s time in London be raised. Oh, and you must visit my favorite dress shop in Bond Street, for I believe you will approve of the selection with enthusiasm.

  I have been back in Paris for nearly a week, but I was longing for Vienna before the end of my first afternoon. Papa is still away and does not plan to join us for some weeks yet. I do wish I could have stayed with him, but with Lady Warner returning to Paris for her youngest daughter’s confinement, it would not have been proper for me to stay. The journey back was pleasant, for Lady W. is an excellent traveling companion, and I consider her to be one of the kindest and best women of my acquaintance. In many ways she reminds me of Mama, or what I imagine Mama would have been like had she lived to Lady W.’s age. If it had not been for her daughter’s condition, I am almost certain that Lady W. would have invited me to stay with her instead of returning to Step-mamma; but it is pointless to wish for things that cannot be.

  My reception in 24 Rue de Verre was not quite what I expected. Coldness, even anger I was prepared for, but there was an air of satisfaction of some kind that I could not account for in both Fanny and Hettie. My return has gratified some wish of theirs, although I cannot imagine why they should wish me back. Step-mamma was more what I had imagined. She seemed annoyed with me from the moment I arrived, as though I had done something deeply displeasing to her. I can only guess that she is still bothered by the business with Baron Wilhelm. That does not explain Hettie and Fanny’s behavior, however, and so I am left just as confused as when I arrived.

  Perhaps it is merely because I was so happy in Vienna, but there seems to be a lack of vivacity to our company here in Paris. Everyone is cold and insipid, and I do not take pleasure in our engagements as I did before I left. Indeed, it could be my imagination, but I could almost fancy that my acquaintances here are displeased at my return somehow. Ladies with whom I was once very friendly now behave in a stiff, formal manner toward me. As the whole business with Baron Wilhelm was kept quiet within our own family circle, it could not possibly be due to my refusal of him… could it? Papa was most discreet, and Hettie and the others cannot like to have it known that the man she was so sure of was actually in love with another. No, I must be imagining it.

  I must stop now and dress for Lady Jacques’ ball, but I shall finish writing when I return. Hopefully my worries will be done away with after tonight.

  1 August

  Oh Bella, how I wish I could say that my worries from earlier this evening were unfounded. And how I wish you were here, for your presence just now would be a great comfort. I do not know what has happened to change the mindset of my Parisian acquaintance so drastically, but I find that I am indeed being intentionally treated with coldness, contempt, and even animosity by
almost all of the people I once called friends.

  It became obvious that something was amiss from the moment we arrived at Lady Jacques’ ball. She greeted Step-mamma and the girls with great friendliness, but her expression changed to one of uncomfortably stiff formality when she turned to me. It was mortifying in more ways than one, for not only was she my hostess this evening, but once she and I had been very friendly with one another. I took tea with her numerous times sans my stepfamily during my first stay in Paris; I have been used to consider her an intelligent, well-bred lady, and to think that she thought well of me in return. Her cold greeting therefore shocked me, and it took all my composure to disguise my feelings as I made my curtsy and entered the ballroom.

  Matters only became worse as I followed Step-mamma about the ballroom. On all sides I noticed cold stares directed at me, and I observed several people whispering as we passed. Step-mamma paused regularly to greet other guests, and more than once I was completely ignored. Fanny had scampered off to join some of her friends, and I caught her looking at me often, an expression of smug triumph on her face. Then the dancing began and my humiliation was indeed complete, for not one gentleman asked me to dance the entire evening. Never in my whole life have I felt more depressed, more trodden down than I did tonight… not even when Step-mamma first realized that I was not going to be submissive to her whims and began blaming me for all of Fanny and Hettie’s failures and misconduct. And I still do not know the reason why this is happening! It was a very trying evening, and I am afraid that at one point I was obliged to flee to one of the ladies’ side rooms to school my features, for I was most ashamedly on the verge of tears.

  But I fared no better for my time there, as I overheard two ladies discussing me; I am afraid I could not tell which, for I was distracted by my own distress at the time.

  “I am surprised that Sylvia Stafford brought her step-daughter with her this evening. I suppose she feared her husband’s displeasure. But really, to have a young lady of her reputation forced upon us all, it is most disagreeable.”

  “You are entirely right. I have told my girls not to speak with her for even a moment. One never knows what sorts of ideas might arise from associating with one of her kind.”

  “Upon my word, I am heartily glad to see that none of our young men have been duped into standing up with her. She may be prettier than her stepsisters, but pretty faces often hide black hearts, as I have observed more than I care to say.” The other lady agreed and the two women withdrew, leaving me miserably wishing I had not attended the ball at all.

  The Galloways were in attendance, even though they returned only yesterday from Italy. But if you think I was able to find comfort in their presence, you are quite mistaken. Lydia looked very much as if she wished to speak with me throughout the evening, but her mama kept a close watch on her, repeatedly shooting disapproving looks at me. It was not until the end of the evening when we were all gathering our shawls and waiting for the carriages that she was able to break away.

  “Oh Eleanor, I am so sorry,” she said, wringing my hand in a distressed manner. “Mama is quite beastly and insists I am to have nothing to do with you, but I know that it cannot be true. We were told it yesterday by Mme. Duponte and I do not believe a word of it.”

  “What in Heaven’s name can you mean, Lydia?” I said, too stunned to say anything else.

  “I thought you would not know, but oh, I do not know where to start!” Just at that moment her mama noticed that she was gone and spotted us together. “Oh dear, Mama has seen; I shan’t be allowed to call on you, but I shall send you a note. Just know that I believe you are entirely innocent.” And then Mrs. Galloway was pulling her away, leaving me even more confused than I had been all night.

  What can she mean? What on earth could Mme. Duponte have said to make Mrs. Galloway so decidedly unfriendly toward me? I fear I shall not sleep for worrying, and yet I can write no more on this tonight. My feelings are unsettled and confused. I must send this letter at once, for I cannot bear to be alone with these thoughts longer than necessary. I do believe I shall be quite angry by and by, but for now I am simply fatigued and humiliated.

  Love,

  Eleanor

  28 July, 1845

  18 Charleston Street, London

  Dear Eleanor,

  Papa, the Grahams, and I arrived in London today. The Grahams’ townhouse is large and comfortable, much in the style of Uncle Charles’ home in Grantham Square. We are close to Kensington Gardens, and I am looking forward to strolling about the park at the earliest opportunity.

  Lady Graham’s daughter, Lady Harriet Easton, has already joined us for tea. Lady G. had written to her that she would be in town with a young lady of means, and it appears that they intend to make much of me for the duration of my visit. We are engaged to join Lady Easton at the modiste in Bond Street tomorrow morning so that Lady Graham may update her wardrobe. She is quite pleased that Lord G. has finally agreed to visit town this year; she was most distressed at his reluctance to go during the Season. The Eastons are to join us for dinner tomorrow as well.

  Papa has very kindly told me that I am to have whatever funds I require to bring my wardrobe up to the current standard of fashion. The dressmaker in Kent does very well in her own way, but you know too well how country fashions are quite outmatched by city styles. I brought your Parisian gown with me; I would like to have at least one new gown to wear until the modiste finishes the things I mean to order. How fortunate that it was not lost in the post after all!

  I think I shall keep this letter open for a day or two so that I may send you all the details of our trip to Bond Street. Sometimes I am tempted to be ashamed that I have not had a proper Season, and that this will be my first real occasion to shop for new things in the city, but then I look out the window at the dirty streets and decide that there are worse things than living in the fresh air and greenery of the countryside.

  29 July

  Today we visited the modiste in Bond Street, as well as a lovely little milliner’s shop that had the most exquisite bonnets. I have ordered several new day dresses and evening gowns. My particular favorites are a blue linen day dress with a pattern of thin white stripes running vertically through the material, and a beautiful cream silk evening gown with a lace shawl that drapes most elegantly about the shoulders.

  Lady Easton was of great assistance in selecting my wardrobe, for she follows the changes in fashion in a manner akin to devotion. She is an excessively pretty woman with fair hair and sharp green eyes that seem to notice everything. Her children are older than my friend Helen’s little boys; she has a daughter who is twelve, and two boys who are ten and eight. As we dined in a more familial setting this evening, the children attended with their parents.

  After dinner I had an opportunity to speak with Miss Easton. She is somewhat soft-spoken, but does not lack vivacity for choosing to be silent. She is quite witty, but has a talent for saving her wit until the exact moment when it will cause the most laughter. Indeed, if she continues in this vein, she shall do very well when she is grown, for she will not fall into the habit other ladies have of prattling on about inconsequential things. She is also a talented artist for her age. I like her immensely.

  Lord Easton is a tall, thin man, with a sardonic temperament that he hides behind exceedingly well-bred manners. He is possessed of a highly analytical and scientific mind, and if he were not so very polite, I am inclined to think that he might be tempted to behave with great condescension to everyone he meets. Papa finds him quite amusing; I find him a little pompous, but nothing to signify. It is clear that he dotes on his wife and children in his own way.

  The new faces and personalities I have already met here are quite refreshing after being so confined to the society of our little village back home. Papa was right to suggest I accept this invitation, for it is easier not to think about William when I am busy observing the interesting behaviors of others. I know I shall never truly forget him, but it shall b
e easier to not be made miserable by my feelings at every moment of the day.

  4 August

  I will not blame you, Eleanor, if you do not believe what I am about to tell you, for I hardly believe it myself, but Gilbert Cosgrove has followed me to London! His card was on the table in the hall when Lady Graham and I returned from our morning calls. It is most fortunate indeed that we in general pay more calls than we receive, for it lessens the opportunities he shall have to catch me at home. Lady G. was not particularly pleased to see his card and handed it to me with pursed lips. When I saw the name on it, I took the liberty of tearing it into small pieces. I tried to do so discreetly, but the little twitch in the corner of Lady Graham’s mouth made me think she saw what I was about. With any luck Gilbert shall not be included in the invitations that we receive, and we shall be able to avoid him entirely.

  Only a week has passed since I began this letter and already I have begun to acquire new experiences and acquaintances of infinite superiority to the Cosgroves. Among them is the lovely Charlotte Davenport, who you mentioned in the letter I received this morning. She came to call at teatime and brought your note as a means of introduction. You were quite right to think that we would suit one another as friends. We have already decided to attend the opening ceremonies of the Royal College of Chemistry together later this week. I am most grateful for your list of acquaintances that will be worth making whilst I am here. There is something comforting in knowing that my social interactions shall not require me to rely entirely on Lady Graham’s circle (though they are all very elegant), and that I may begin to build acquaintances of my own. Thank you also for your reminder to avoid Lady Cartwright and Lord Clement. I confess that I had quite forgotten their existence.