Another late night, this is starting to become something of a habit for me.
But I find it so hard to settle down to sleep after an eventful evening,
especially one such as that which has taken place tonight. Writing has
served in the past to clear my mind, and I write here now with the hope
that it will once more have the same effect and allow me to retire soon
enough to bed.
Tonight was Margaret's party, and therefore the best part of the afternoon was spent preparing for the evening's frivolities. I do not usually enjoy wasting excessive amounts of time in dressing, but it was somewhat enjoyable to have Suzy pamper me for a couple of hours as she attempted to dress my hair and curl my ribbons to Mother's satisfaction. I wore it loose but conceded to a few ringlets around the face which, as Mother took pleasure in pointing out, did much to 'soften' my expression, and I may in fact take to wearing it so more often. My new dress completed the picture and I have to say that the overall effect was rather pleasing and left me looking forward to the night ahead.
Speaking of Mother, she seems to have finally put all bad feeling behind us at last thank goodness, even going so far as to lend me her own emerald necklace which father had given her for her birthday the previous year. It really is beautiful, matching the colour of my gown exactly, and I felt rather proud to be wearing something so lovely. I cannot remember having felt so pleased to be going to a party for a good while now, as I usually dread such social gatherings or at the very least look upon them with bored indifference. Unfortunately though, as always, something had to occur to dampen my good spirits.
"You look beautiful, Virginia," Mother told me, kissing me on the cheek in a gesture so rare as to make me start in surprise. I felt a tug at my heart at her words, my eyes suddenly damp, and I stayed close to her for a moment, catching the faint scent of lilies that always seemed to accompany her.
"Thank you," I managed finally, smiling softly at her as I drew away.
"And I am sure Charles will agree," she added, the look in her eyes almost pleading as she busied herself with pulling my cape more firmly around my shoulders. A sour taste sprang into my mouth at her words and I pulled away, pretending to check my appearance in the nearby mirror so I would not have to meet her gaze. Why do you always have to do this? I wanted to scream, but the words froze in my throat and I could only nod, forcing myself, as always, to keep my feelings hidden.
"Good night, Mother," I told her finally when I felt I could speak without betraying my agitation. It was her turn to nod then, and although she did not speak again, I could feel her eyes on me as I left the house, and I shuddered, knowing what she expected of me but at the same time knowing even more certainly in my heart that I would never be able to fulfil it.
The journey was uneventful, giving me plenty of time to dwell over what Mother had said to me, or rather what she had implied in those few simple words. As Brentford House came into view though I resolved that I would put it from my mind for the duration of the party. I saw no need to spoil what could, as I was hoping, be a very pleasant evening with worrying over something that I could do nothing about at present. There would be time enough for that later, as I knew only too well that the problem was not going to just disappear, however much I might wish it to. I had little time for thinking soon enough anyway, as the moment I entered the house I was caught in a whirl of faces and greetings that, as always, took up the first moments of such a party.
"Ginny, how delightful to see you!" the first person to greet me was Meg herself, dressed all in blue and sporting the rather large diamond ring that has been the talk of just about everywhere for weeks now. Clearly the gossip had been right for once, I told myself as I returned her quick embrace and tried to follow her excited chatter as best I could. The eldest daughter of Earl Harwood and about as spoilt as a girl can be, but under it all there is a good heart, and her sweet nature makes it impossible for me to dislike her.
After greeting several acquaintances and a few whirlwind introductions to various people whom I had not had the pleasure of meeting before and whose names I would probably never manage to recall if I were to meet them a second time, I was mercifully left to my own devices for a few moments. Feeling rather battered after the initial excitement I was thankful for the chance to catch my breath, and, finding myself close to the refreshments table, decided that a drink would do much to revive me. As I sipped my punch I took advantage of the opportunity to survey the rest of the room, and could not help smiling as Meg swooped down on yet another unsuspecting guest who had chanced to arrive at that moment.
The house was decorated to perfection, society's finest dressed brilliantly in a magnificent array of colours and patterns, and I could not find one fault in the whole of the gathering before me. Everywhere I looked, chattering, laughing, breathtaking brilliance. So why then did I not feel happy? I was one of them; few in that room would not have heard of my name and even less would be ignorant of the reputation of my parents; not a drawing room in London would be likely to refuse me if I so wished to be there. I belonged to this set of people and I had done since birth, yet somehow, I still felt like an stranger. No, worse, an interloper, as if I had no right to be there among them, and had only managed to gain my place by deceit or pretence. I had always blamed them for that, laughing at their ways, refusing to conform. But what if I had been mistaken and it were really my fault that I did not fit in to their world? If, as Mother told me, this was to be my lot in life, surely I had a duty to fulfil it? I had fought against it for so long, but maybe there was no alternative, and I had just been deluding myself into believing there could be another way. If this was all there was, then what was to become of me if I continued to pull against them? I saw suddenly the rest of my life in my mind's eye, a never-ending round of parties and dinners, all exactly the same as this one, over and over until. until what?
The very thought made me shudder and I quickly set my glass down so that I would not draw attention to the fact that my hands were shaking. I tried to calm myself, but I could feel panic start to overwhelm me and looked around, suddenly desperate to escape. The door was not very far away from where I was standing, but the many groups of people I would have to pass in order to reach it would mean, as I knew from experience, that my departure would not go unnoticed or uncommented upon. And Mother would demand to know why I had returned early, Meg would feel slighted, and it was all such a terrible mess that I wanted nothing more than to just sink to the floor and scream until someone showed me a way to get out of it all.
"And there is no sight worth pitying more than the Ostrich who believes itself to be a King." A voice from behind me suddenly observed at that moment, and I started in surprise. I had been so caught up in my own inner turmoil, that I had not heard anyone approach where I was standing.
"I." More than a little flustered I turned quickly to see who had spoken, and found myself face to face with the last person I had expected to see there.
"Mr. Kennedy!" I exclaimed, hoping that my confusion did not show upon my face. I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady my nerves before adding, "What a pleasant surprise. how are you?" I felt like a complete fool, as if he would somehow know what I had been thinking and judge me for it, but he only smiled, pouring himself a drink before answering me in the same slightly amused tone in which he had spoken at our first encounter.
"Lady Virginia, I did not think to see you again so soon, but now that I have done so, I consider myself truly honoured," he told me, taking my hand briefly before turning his gaze once more to the room before us. "A most honourable gathering, do you not think?" I do not know whether it was because of my own distemper, the manner in which he spoke or something else entirely, but I was not in the mood for pleasantries and something inside of me chose that moment to snap.
"You mock me, Sir?" I demanded sharply, taking a step and putting some space between us as I spoke. "Because if that is indeed the case, then I will take my leave of you and find others who truly do desire to be in my company." I expected him to take offence at my words and leave, but he merely regarded me in silence, his steady gaze causing my face to redden, something which only served to make me even crosser. I turned away from him completely, and would have followed through with my threat if he had not at the moment at which I started to walk away caught my arm and thus prevented my escape.
"Forgive me, I meant no disrespect," he assured me, his expression when I forced myself to meet his gaze so earnest that I could not doubt his sincerity. "My words may have been clumsily chosen, but the sentiment behind them was only to your merit. It is rather too easy for me, I fear, to slip into the mode of speech adopted by those in whose company I so often find myself." I felt myself flush again, ashamed that I had allowed myself to be so rude in the face of what had been intended as a compliment. I wanted to answer him but could not, and I paused, trying to gather myself enough in order to reply sensibly. I did not get a chance to though, as after watching me a moment longer he sighed, extending his hand once more as he did so.
"I believe I shall leave you in peace, Lady Virginia," he told me, placing his by then empty glass on the table as he spoke. "I hope the remainder of your evening is rather more pleasant than it appears to have been thus far." I opened my mouth to tell him to stay, that I had not meant my earlier harshness, but at that moment fate chose to intervene. Charles, having recently arrived, happened to see me from where he was talking to Meg, and was making his way towards me. Mr. Kennedy, glancing from Charles to myself seemed to reach a decision, and bowing politely, quickly took his leave. I watched as he was immediately pounced upon by Tara Beaufort, heiress to half of Wales if the tales her father put about were anything to go by, and belatedly cursed myself for my seemingly perfect talent for turning people against me.
"What did he want?" Charles demanded instantly as he reached my side at that moment. "Was he bothering you Ginny?" I shook my head, forcing myself to look away from where Tara was quite obviously fawning all over him.
"He was merely saying hello Charles, being polite." I told him pointedly, knowing even as I did so that the remark would be lost on him. The only person I could see in the whole cursed room who might appreciate anything even closely resembling wit was the very man who I had just turned against me through my inability to think before speaking.
Charles immediately launched into what, to him, was a most riveting tale of his latest hunting trip, and I forced myself to listen to what he was saying instead of adopting my usual and more favourable practice of ignoring him. This can be your penance for being so unfriendly, I told myself a good hour later as I was being told for the third time how Lord Mountjoy's horse had almost thrown him and surely would have done so if it had not been for Charles' quick thinking and intervention. Trying to stifle a yawn I let my gaze once more travel around the room, moving from group to group as I searched for something to act as a distraction from the monotonous trap I found myself caught in. If I could not spend even an evening in Charles' company without being driven almost mad with boredom, I could only imagine what it would be like to be married to him, and the thought filled me with horror. Night after night of the same conversation, the same stories, the same everything. and I would not be able to escape from it.
"Ginny?" he enquired, clearly having noticed my lack of attention and, if the look on his face was anything to judge by, feeling rather miffed at it. I quickly turned my most radiant smile on him, hoping that his usual lack of observation would not abandon him at that moment and thus alert him to my insincerity.
"Oh Charles, I am sorry," I simpered, hoping I looked as apologetic as I was trying to. "I was just thinking on how selfish I have been this evening, keeping you all to myself all this time. Just in the last five minutes both Meg and Charlotte have given me positively venomous looks, and I can see no reason for it other than that I have kept you from their company for so long." As I had hoped and expected Charles visibly swelled with typical masculine importance at my comments, and I forced myself to hide a smile. With any luck, I would not have the pleasure of his presence for much longer. Sure enough, within moments he was excusing himself, although unfortunately, not before he had managed to extract a promise to dance later that evening when the music started, and I was left alone.
There is so much more still to write, but I can feel the pen growing heavier and heavier along with my eyelids, and I do not seem to be able to keep them open any longer. I will continue this in the morning, when I will relate the most interesting part of the evening. I do not doubt that I will be able to remember it clearly, as I cannot deny it has left rather an impression upon me, along with a rather delicate dilemma. Maybe some sleep will help me to decide how best to proceed, although I fear that it may only serve to confuse matters more. We will see I suppose.
Tonight was Margaret's party, and therefore the best part of the afternoon was spent preparing for the evening's frivolities. I do not usually enjoy wasting excessive amounts of time in dressing, but it was somewhat enjoyable to have Suzy pamper me for a couple of hours as she attempted to dress my hair and curl my ribbons to Mother's satisfaction. I wore it loose but conceded to a few ringlets around the face which, as Mother took pleasure in pointing out, did much to 'soften' my expression, and I may in fact take to wearing it so more often. My new dress completed the picture and I have to say that the overall effect was rather pleasing and left me looking forward to the night ahead.
Speaking of Mother, she seems to have finally put all bad feeling behind us at last thank goodness, even going so far as to lend me her own emerald necklace which father had given her for her birthday the previous year. It really is beautiful, matching the colour of my gown exactly, and I felt rather proud to be wearing something so lovely. I cannot remember having felt so pleased to be going to a party for a good while now, as I usually dread such social gatherings or at the very least look upon them with bored indifference. Unfortunately though, as always, something had to occur to dampen my good spirits.
"You look beautiful, Virginia," Mother told me, kissing me on the cheek in a gesture so rare as to make me start in surprise. I felt a tug at my heart at her words, my eyes suddenly damp, and I stayed close to her for a moment, catching the faint scent of lilies that always seemed to accompany her.
"Thank you," I managed finally, smiling softly at her as I drew away.
"And I am sure Charles will agree," she added, the look in her eyes almost pleading as she busied herself with pulling my cape more firmly around my shoulders. A sour taste sprang into my mouth at her words and I pulled away, pretending to check my appearance in the nearby mirror so I would not have to meet her gaze. Why do you always have to do this? I wanted to scream, but the words froze in my throat and I could only nod, forcing myself, as always, to keep my feelings hidden.
"Good night, Mother," I told her finally when I felt I could speak without betraying my agitation. It was her turn to nod then, and although she did not speak again, I could feel her eyes on me as I left the house, and I shuddered, knowing what she expected of me but at the same time knowing even more certainly in my heart that I would never be able to fulfil it.
The journey was uneventful, giving me plenty of time to dwell over what Mother had said to me, or rather what she had implied in those few simple words. As Brentford House came into view though I resolved that I would put it from my mind for the duration of the party. I saw no need to spoil what could, as I was hoping, be a very pleasant evening with worrying over something that I could do nothing about at present. There would be time enough for that later, as I knew only too well that the problem was not going to just disappear, however much I might wish it to. I had little time for thinking soon enough anyway, as the moment I entered the house I was caught in a whirl of faces and greetings that, as always, took up the first moments of such a party.
"Ginny, how delightful to see you!" the first person to greet me was Meg herself, dressed all in blue and sporting the rather large diamond ring that has been the talk of just about everywhere for weeks now. Clearly the gossip had been right for once, I told myself as I returned her quick embrace and tried to follow her excited chatter as best I could. The eldest daughter of Earl Harwood and about as spoilt as a girl can be, but under it all there is a good heart, and her sweet nature makes it impossible for me to dislike her.
After greeting several acquaintances and a few whirlwind introductions to various people whom I had not had the pleasure of meeting before and whose names I would probably never manage to recall if I were to meet them a second time, I was mercifully left to my own devices for a few moments. Feeling rather battered after the initial excitement I was thankful for the chance to catch my breath, and, finding myself close to the refreshments table, decided that a drink would do much to revive me. As I sipped my punch I took advantage of the opportunity to survey the rest of the room, and could not help smiling as Meg swooped down on yet another unsuspecting guest who had chanced to arrive at that moment.
The house was decorated to perfection, society's finest dressed brilliantly in a magnificent array of colours and patterns, and I could not find one fault in the whole of the gathering before me. Everywhere I looked, chattering, laughing, breathtaking brilliance. So why then did I not feel happy? I was one of them; few in that room would not have heard of my name and even less would be ignorant of the reputation of my parents; not a drawing room in London would be likely to refuse me if I so wished to be there. I belonged to this set of people and I had done since birth, yet somehow, I still felt like an stranger. No, worse, an interloper, as if I had no right to be there among them, and had only managed to gain my place by deceit or pretence. I had always blamed them for that, laughing at their ways, refusing to conform. But what if I had been mistaken and it were really my fault that I did not fit in to their world? If, as Mother told me, this was to be my lot in life, surely I had a duty to fulfil it? I had fought against it for so long, but maybe there was no alternative, and I had just been deluding myself into believing there could be another way. If this was all there was, then what was to become of me if I continued to pull against them? I saw suddenly the rest of my life in my mind's eye, a never-ending round of parties and dinners, all exactly the same as this one, over and over until. until what?
The very thought made me shudder and I quickly set my glass down so that I would not draw attention to the fact that my hands were shaking. I tried to calm myself, but I could feel panic start to overwhelm me and looked around, suddenly desperate to escape. The door was not very far away from where I was standing, but the many groups of people I would have to pass in order to reach it would mean, as I knew from experience, that my departure would not go unnoticed or uncommented upon. And Mother would demand to know why I had returned early, Meg would feel slighted, and it was all such a terrible mess that I wanted nothing more than to just sink to the floor and scream until someone showed me a way to get out of it all.
"And there is no sight worth pitying more than the Ostrich who believes itself to be a King." A voice from behind me suddenly observed at that moment, and I started in surprise. I had been so caught up in my own inner turmoil, that I had not heard anyone approach where I was standing.
"I." More than a little flustered I turned quickly to see who had spoken, and found myself face to face with the last person I had expected to see there.
"Mr. Kennedy!" I exclaimed, hoping that my confusion did not show upon my face. I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady my nerves before adding, "What a pleasant surprise. how are you?" I felt like a complete fool, as if he would somehow know what I had been thinking and judge me for it, but he only smiled, pouring himself a drink before answering me in the same slightly amused tone in which he had spoken at our first encounter.
"Lady Virginia, I did not think to see you again so soon, but now that I have done so, I consider myself truly honoured," he told me, taking my hand briefly before turning his gaze once more to the room before us. "A most honourable gathering, do you not think?" I do not know whether it was because of my own distemper, the manner in which he spoke or something else entirely, but I was not in the mood for pleasantries and something inside of me chose that moment to snap.
"You mock me, Sir?" I demanded sharply, taking a step and putting some space between us as I spoke. "Because if that is indeed the case, then I will take my leave of you and find others who truly do desire to be in my company." I expected him to take offence at my words and leave, but he merely regarded me in silence, his steady gaze causing my face to redden, something which only served to make me even crosser. I turned away from him completely, and would have followed through with my threat if he had not at the moment at which I started to walk away caught my arm and thus prevented my escape.
"Forgive me, I meant no disrespect," he assured me, his expression when I forced myself to meet his gaze so earnest that I could not doubt his sincerity. "My words may have been clumsily chosen, but the sentiment behind them was only to your merit. It is rather too easy for me, I fear, to slip into the mode of speech adopted by those in whose company I so often find myself." I felt myself flush again, ashamed that I had allowed myself to be so rude in the face of what had been intended as a compliment. I wanted to answer him but could not, and I paused, trying to gather myself enough in order to reply sensibly. I did not get a chance to though, as after watching me a moment longer he sighed, extending his hand once more as he did so.
"I believe I shall leave you in peace, Lady Virginia," he told me, placing his by then empty glass on the table as he spoke. "I hope the remainder of your evening is rather more pleasant than it appears to have been thus far." I opened my mouth to tell him to stay, that I had not meant my earlier harshness, but at that moment fate chose to intervene. Charles, having recently arrived, happened to see me from where he was talking to Meg, and was making his way towards me. Mr. Kennedy, glancing from Charles to myself seemed to reach a decision, and bowing politely, quickly took his leave. I watched as he was immediately pounced upon by Tara Beaufort, heiress to half of Wales if the tales her father put about were anything to go by, and belatedly cursed myself for my seemingly perfect talent for turning people against me.
"What did he want?" Charles demanded instantly as he reached my side at that moment. "Was he bothering you Ginny?" I shook my head, forcing myself to look away from where Tara was quite obviously fawning all over him.
"He was merely saying hello Charles, being polite." I told him pointedly, knowing even as I did so that the remark would be lost on him. The only person I could see in the whole cursed room who might appreciate anything even closely resembling wit was the very man who I had just turned against me through my inability to think before speaking.
Charles immediately launched into what, to him, was a most riveting tale of his latest hunting trip, and I forced myself to listen to what he was saying instead of adopting my usual and more favourable practice of ignoring him. This can be your penance for being so unfriendly, I told myself a good hour later as I was being told for the third time how Lord Mountjoy's horse had almost thrown him and surely would have done so if it had not been for Charles' quick thinking and intervention. Trying to stifle a yawn I let my gaze once more travel around the room, moving from group to group as I searched for something to act as a distraction from the monotonous trap I found myself caught in. If I could not spend even an evening in Charles' company without being driven almost mad with boredom, I could only imagine what it would be like to be married to him, and the thought filled me with horror. Night after night of the same conversation, the same stories, the same everything. and I would not be able to escape from it.
"Ginny?" he enquired, clearly having noticed my lack of attention and, if the look on his face was anything to judge by, feeling rather miffed at it. I quickly turned my most radiant smile on him, hoping that his usual lack of observation would not abandon him at that moment and thus alert him to my insincerity.
"Oh Charles, I am sorry," I simpered, hoping I looked as apologetic as I was trying to. "I was just thinking on how selfish I have been this evening, keeping you all to myself all this time. Just in the last five minutes both Meg and Charlotte have given me positively venomous looks, and I can see no reason for it other than that I have kept you from their company for so long." As I had hoped and expected Charles visibly swelled with typical masculine importance at my comments, and I forced myself to hide a smile. With any luck, I would not have the pleasure of his presence for much longer. Sure enough, within moments he was excusing himself, although unfortunately, not before he had managed to extract a promise to dance later that evening when the music started, and I was left alone.
There is so much more still to write, but I can feel the pen growing heavier and heavier along with my eyelids, and I do not seem to be able to keep them open any longer. I will continue this in the morning, when I will relate the most interesting part of the evening. I do not doubt that I will be able to remember it clearly, as I cannot deny it has left rather an impression upon me, along with a rather delicate dilemma. Maybe some sleep will help me to decide how best to proceed, although I fear that it may only serve to confuse matters more. We will see I suppose.