As Esther and Miss Howard quickly became best friends, as young ladies are apt to do when they meet other young ladies, Hazel slid her attention to the dance floor. Unlike many of the younger ladies, they did not bond over a fondness for a certain type of dress print, or French vs. English style, or immediately share every secret for getting their hair to look just as it did. They bonded over travel and books they had read. Their giggles were not about the people in the room, but over jokes that referenced French history. Hazel's eyes became fixed on the shoes moving up and down on the floor. She had nothing to say.
Hazel perked up from an attention coma at Mr. Howard's name. "And Miss Howard, last time we met, you promised to introduce the rest of your party and you have not yet kept your promise."
What was lifted of Esther's mood sank immediately. Men were not as easy to be around as women, even though it pained Esther to be around anyone beside her own family. A single man of marriage-able age seemed unfathomable. God, what if he asks me to dance? What if they know my story and judge me the entire time? Worse—what if they do not know and ask some horribly embarrassing question? Can I sit down right now? Am I beginning to feel light-headed? Is this what light-headed feels like? Oh, God. I just will not say anything. I am not fit for it. Perhaps he will get the idea I do not want to be spoken to. I will stare into my wine glass—I don't have a wine glass.
Miss Howard dryly said, "Oh, yes, that is right. Let me see…John went off to dance with Cousin Julia…yes, there they are, speaking with my Uncle. Stay just here. I will fetch him."
Lilly left the two girls in search of her brother. The older one she felt would become a great friend, and the younger one seemed less abrasive than a normal girl of her age and society would generally be. There is my Aunt. I will inquire after these girls with her. She steered out of the sight of the two girls and put her hand on Aunt Charlotte's arm. The Aunt looked up from what was clearly a harsh judging moment directed at some unknowing girls in cheap dresses. "Aunt, do you know the Wickham girls? Quickly, tell me of them."
"The Wickhams? Yes. Father gained some wealth from managing businesses earlier in his life, (enough to spend the day gambling it all away,) the mother not worth a minute of your day, but the two older girls (one is still in the nursery) have found their way into some sense of society, despite their upbringing (a dangerous trend, and I don't like it, if you ask me). The older Miss Wickham was attached to a rich merchant by the name of Turner (a textile fortune of course, God, these people) and every one thought he was going to marry her, but his affections changed from her to the younger Miss Wickham, and they are now engaged." Mrs. Emmerson almost recited the assessment as if she had written a Burke's Peerage for all the people of Attlebrough. And that Esther Wickham, getting more wine—God help her if she turns out like her mother, the poor pathetic soul.
"Thank you Aunt. I must fetch my brother." Miss Lilly curtseyed.
Mrs. Emmerson could not help herself as she watched her niece walk away:
Miss Lilly Howard, second daughter, third child, of The Honorable Mr. James Howard, second son of The Right Honorable, The Lord of Launceton. Father a respectable judge. His wife: a pretty daughter of a not-important baronet. Brother: Mr. John Howard, followed his father into law, now a lawyer in London. As for the daughter, rumor of a scandal with a local boy, but she was whisked away before anything serious came of it. No serious marriage prospects.
Mr. John Howard stood swirling a glass of wine in a small group with four people: his Cousin Julia Emmerson, his Uncle Emmerson, and two other people whose names he had neglected to remember, but who seemed friendly enough. They were talking about Italian islands, or something. He could not quite remember, nor did he care very much. He had never been to them, and the Italian zeal for life and willingness to give into life's urges brought out the stuffy prude in him, so he had no wish to travel there. He certainly would never be caught dead in such an Epicurean place by anyone of society. He pushed a lock of dark hair out of his eye with his free hand and checked his pocket watch.
He felt a hand grasp his elbow, and he turned around to see Lilly. After making the deepest apologies, she said, "I have foolishly promised to introduce you to a chit and her demure older sister. Please come and at least say hello to them, for I suspect all they require is a good story to tell all their girlfriends tomorrow when they met to talk about tonight."
John turned his head toward her, pocket watch still in hand. "You always say just what you are thinking."
"Never fear—it is a disease that does not infect many. And I only speak my mind to family. I do not understand why family deserves such airs. Once you have tended to a person when they are desperately sick, curtseys and 'ma'ams' seem so out of place." She tugged his sleeve in the direction of the Wickham girls and, giving a slight nod to his present party, he followed his sister.
Looking over his shoulder, he realized none of them had so much as noticed his absence. "You never tell the Emmersons what you really think of them."
"I simply smile at them; they wish me to worship them."
"And these girls I am being dragged like a lamb to the slaughter to meet: what do they wish of you?"
"The younger one wishes me to be a conduit for introductions to you or a few of your single friends, and then step out of the way. The older girl is a bit harder to read. She seems to want nothing."
John smiled. "That is impossible."
"You also know me to be an impeccable predictor of character, however, I simply could not read her. You must judge for yourself."
Hazel, upon seeing Mr. Howard up close, drew into a very low curtsey. Esther nearly forgot to curtsey and gave a simple awkward one. Lilly made introductions.