by Fanny Finch
They entered the ballroom and Maria had to try to remember all of the things that Georgiana had taught her. Head up, glide, small steps…
It was maddeningly difficult to ignore Lord Reginald, but she must. She spied Mrs. Rutlage and moved over towards her immediately, engaging her in conversation.
“You look quite the picture tonight, Miss Worthing,” Mrs. Rutlage told her. “I should not have believed it was you had you not addressed me. You do not look at all like the same girl that I first met a month ago.”
“I hope that I should take that as a compliment,” Maria replied.
“Very much so,” Mrs. Rutlage said. “Not that you were in distasteful outfits or anything by any means. But there is much more confidence in your bearing now and you wear the clothes as though they truly belong to you.
“When we first met it was as though you had borrowed your mother’s dress and were terrified that she should find out about it at any moment. And now look at you.
“I dare say that your posture is improved as well. But then I am a stickler for such things.”
“As is Miss Reginald. She had me balancing books on my head for weeks.”
Mrs. Rutlage laughed. “And how goes it, living with the Reginalds? Do they continue to treat you well?”
“I should expect nothing less from them. They are both saints.”
“Yes, they are quite fond of you.” Mrs. Rutlage’s tone of voice carried an odd significance to it. One that Maria could not quite place.
“In any case I must fill my dance card,” Maria said. “I hope that you will not mind. I expect to be rather busy tonight.”
“That is how it should be, my dear,” Mrs. Rutlage said. “A bright young thing such as yourself should not be expected to sit with us gossiping old birds all night.”
“You are far from that,” Maria replied. “You are all still quite lovely in my opinion.”
“You are too kind. Now off you go, my dear. Enjoy yourself.”
Maria was not so certain of the ‘enjoying herself’ part of things. But she was on a mission, and she was doing it properly now. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be distracted.
She half-wondered if Lord Reginald could tell that she was avoiding him. It was not that she was avoiding him for his own sake. She believed him when he said that he had forgiven her.
But she had to stay away from him or she would fall into her old habits. She would try to impress him. She would focus only on him. She had to remain strong and keep herself focused.
She filled up her dance card rather quickly. She was more active than she usually was about it. Before she had always waited for a gentleman to approach her.
This time, she would find a way to enter into conversations that included the gentlemen, and then find a means to mention she was looking for partners to fill up her card. At least one of the gentlemen was sure to offer.
Mr. Upton was one such person whom she recognized from previous balls and who was happy to ask her for a dance. He was practically falling over himself for the opportunity, hardly letting her begin the conversation before asking her.
Maria made sure that her dance card was full before letting herself be led out onto the dance floor for her first turn. If Lord Reginald stayed true to his habit of coming up and asking her for a dance while she was engaged talking with someone else, she knew she would be weak and say yes.
She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to hope.
Instead she made sure that she was out on the dance floor as much as possible.
Find a balance, she kept reminding herself. Emulate the others without losing yourself.
She did her best, making witty remarks but making sure that they were not cruel or thoughtless. She didn’t gossip but she shared humorous stories from her time back home growing up. She tried to be outgoing and engaging in a way that she hadn’t let herself be before.
Fear had always paralyzed her. She had listened instead of talked. And she knew that the people she spent time with appreciated her listening. The way that she genuinely cared about what they were saying. She didn’t let go of that.
But ever since that first dinner she had been scared to death of saying the wrong thing. Or of saying too much. Now she let it all out again. She could be herself and she could be witty. She could be both.
The surface might change or alter, adapt depending upon the company she was keeping, but that didn’t mean she had to give up the core of who she was.
Her partners seemed taken aback by her newly confident behavior, although not in a negative way.
“I must say,” Mr. Upton said as she danced with him, “you appear to have undergone a most positive change of heart, Miss Worthing.”
“What do you mean, sir?” she asked.
“There is a pleasant determination to your manner that I had not noticed previously. Have you had an uplift in spirits?”
“I recently paid a visit to my father,” Maria said, being as truthful as she dared. “He is feeling poorly but it always does the both of us good to see one another.”
From there the conversation moved on to other subjects. Mr. Upton seemed delighted at her newfound energy. And he was not the only person to comment upon it.
Almost all of the men that she spoke to spoke of how much more confident and at peace she seemed. Many asked if she had received unusually good news lately.
Maria only laughed and told them that she was especially happy with her new dress and that she had gotten to visit her father.
Everyone seemed to accept this without too much curiosity and certainly not any doubt. The lie came easily. More easily than she had expected.
Perhaps, despite her disaster the night before, she had gotten better at this whole conversing thing. Better than she had expected. Perhaps all that she needed was to give herself the confidence to go with it.
She tried to remember what Edward and Georgiana had told her, for while Edward had said it in anger that didn’t make it any less true. And Georgiana had said it to her previously, although she had not listened as she should have, apparently:
Maria could not control others. They would be kind or cruel as they saw fit. But she could control her reaction to them. She could refuse to give them any power over her.
Miss Hennings could say and think whatever she wanted. But Maria was the one who decided if those words and thoughts hurt her or not.
What was it to her if Miss Hennings thought she understood Maria? The important people knew better. They knew who she truly was.
She would not allow herself to become someone that she wasn’t and she wouldn’t allow herself to disappoint the people that she loved in order to please or defeat someone who was so clearly beneath her notice. Someone who did not deserve her time.
And so when she spied Miss Hennings approaching her—or rather the group of people she was speaking with—she squared her shoulders and refused to give Miss Hennings that power over her ever again.
“Miss Hennings!” she said brightly, turning to greet her. Maria pictured playing with kittens and puppies and eating chocolate truffles. That way when she smiled at Miss Hennings, it was a genuine smile.
“I hope that you are enjoying the ball,” Maria went on, before Miss Hennings could say anything. “That is quite a lovely frock that you have on. Is it new?”
“As always,” Miss Hennings replied. She seemed taken aback but quickly recovered. “I wish that I could ask the same of yours.”
Maria ignored the comment. “I think that the cut rather suits you. Is the wine tonight not divine?”
Miss Hennings again seemed taken aback. Maria hadn’t just ignored what Miss Hennings had said. She had acted as though it hadn’t even been said. “I…yes.”
Maria looked over at the other people she was talking with. “Miss Hennings was at the first ball I ever attended. I was still quite the bumpkin, I fumbled horribly throughout the entire meal.” She then smiled at Miss Hennings, as if the entire thing were an insi
de joke between friends.
Miss Hennings looked as though she were choking a little. By acknowledging her own mistakes and owning up to her faux pas, Maria had essentially taken away all of Miss Hennings’ ammunition.
Maira could not deny that it was a marvelous thing to watch Miss Hennings struggle in such a manner. It was not particularly kind of her to think that way, but she could not help but relish the revenge just a bit.
“I had just come to London for the first time, you see,” Maria went on. She then launched into an amusing story about landing in England and the weather change and how it affected her.
It was an exaggeration of her actual experiences, and a humorous exaggeration at that. But the party need not know that. All they knew was that it was an amusing story, and charmingly told.
Miss Hennings looked to be completely at a loss.
“Shall I be your partner for the next dance, Miss Worthing?” asked one of the men in the group.
Maria curtsied. “I would be delighted, sir.”
As she moved to take his arm, she heard Miss Hennings whisper, “Well played, Miss Worthing.”
She didn’t outwardly acknowledge it, but inwardly, she smiled.
It was well played, if she did say so herself. She had done nothing cruel or thoughtless. Indeed, her kindness seemed to have bowled Miss Hennings over as surely as if Maria had chucked a massive croquet ball at her.
In fact, she did not see Miss Hennings much after that. And it was always from afar. Miss Hennings seemed to have noticed that Maria was staying away from Lord Reginald. That, on top of Maria’s new attitude, seemed to have created a kind of ceasefire.
She could see Miss Hennings approaching Lord Reginald at one point and Maria could not help but bite down on her lip to hide her smile.
Simply because Maria was no longer taking up Lord Reginald’s attention did not mean that he was going to be open to Miss Hennings.
Is that what Miss Hennings thought? Had she been operating under the mistaken notion that Maria was somehow stealing Lord Reginald from her? That Miss Hennings had him in the bag until Maria had come along?
If that was the case, then Maria almost pitied the other woman. To be operating under such a mistaken notion was only going to end in Miss Hennings’ disappointment.
That was a small consolation to her. Lord Reginald would never marry a woman as cruel or as petty-minded as Miss Hennings. Maria knew that he would choose wisely.
Perhaps, in time, she would even come to like the woman that he chose. She would have to be a woman of remarkable character.
She hoped that Lord Reginald would approve of Maria’s choice of husband. Whoever that man ended up being. She was compiling a list in her head already and was surprised at how many men were on it.
Everyone was being so engaging tonight. Seeking her out. Who knew that such a little change in her own attitude and behavior would create such a large change in how others perceived her.
It meant the ball was the most fun she had ever had. This was what Mother had spoken of when she had told Maria stories about her time in London before the Caribbean. This was the glamor and entertainment that Maria had envisioned as a child.
She merely had to behave with confidence. Take the bull by the horns, so to speak. And everyone followed her lead.
Could it be that she had been such prey to them before because she had known that she was prey? Because she had been nervous, and they had picked up on it? Sensing what an easy target she would be?
Now, with her confident behavior and her determination to truly engage with everyone…everybody else was sensing it. They were treating her as an equal. As if they had known her their entire lives.
She had to admit that this feeling was a bit intoxicating. It went to her head in a way that wine never did. But she resolved not to let it knock her off balance. She would not overextend herself.
But it was a revelation, to realize that this whole time being herself really was enough. It was simply a matter of having the confidence and gregariousness to go with it.
It was not only the men who were remarking on the difference, although they certainly did. Some of the younger ladies with whom Maria had yet to truly make friends made some remarks as well.
“You must call upon me,” seemed to become the phrase of the evening.
Maria found that she was actually getting invitations to things. That the ladies her own age were finally accepting her.
“I am attending a theatre performance tomorrow, you must join me at my box.”
“I hear you are attending my ball with the Reginalds? Come early for dinner, I shall add you to the list.”
“Be sure to remember my address, and please bring the darling Miss Reginald with you. I shall expect you both.”
I belong here, Maria told herself, and for the first time she actually felt it. She did belong here. She was just as good as any of them.
She was finally feeling like one of them.
Oh, she could hardly wait to tell Father! And Georgiana. She would be most pleased to know that all of her hard work with Maria was finally paying off.
She was tempted to tell Lord Reginald as well, but…she could hardly bother him with such a thing. Not when she was trying to keep away from him and not fall into the trap of trailing after him.
No, she would keep it to herself unless he asked after her. She would not wish to be rude, after all. It was not his fault that she was in love with him and he did not return her affections. How could she possibly blame a man for that?
Emotions could not be controlled, after all. If they could then she would be able to get rid of her own.
But for her own sake, she must not seek him out. She must not dance with him. She must not let herself fall into the trap of being around him overmuch, else she would forget to think of anything else and be caught up all over again in how wonderful she thought he was.
If only he could read her thoughts. He would think her the most ridiculous of women.
Luckily, whenever her thoughts turned towards him, there was another dance to distract her, another partner. It was even better than her first ball, before she had become too downhearted with the feeling of being an outsider.
Her feet fairly ached by the end of it. Mrs. Dale remarked at one point that she had never seen Maria dance so much before.
“I have hardly had time to talk to you all,” she said to the older ladies. “I deeply apologize.”
“That is what morning calls are for,” Mrs. Dale informed her. “You are young and unmarried! That is what balls are for. Dance to your heart’s content, my dear, and never you worry about us.”
She hardly even noticed the time passing. It seemed to all be a whirl to her. The moment she stopped to catch her breath there was another person there to claim her attention, either for a conversation or a dance.
When Georgiana finally caught a hold of her, Maria thought she might faint. Usually she didn’t feel the exhaustion until they were already in the carriage but now she could feel it seeping into her bones while she was still at the ball.
It was an odd combination of exhaustion and elation. She was full of energy, fairly bursting with it, giddy with it, but she also thought she might burst into tears from how tired she felt. Even her eyes ached.
“You have had quite a time of it,” Georgiana told her. “I think that it is time we set off home.”
“If you think it is best,” Maria replied.
She kept a hold of her dance card so that in the morning she might go over the men that she had danced with and form a proper list.
Lord Reginald helped her with her coat. He seemed oddly quiet. Maria had not danced with him that night—for the first time since this whole affair had started.
It made her ache inside. It made her feel bereft.
But of course, it was likely that he had hardly noticed. She was the one aching with unrequited feelings, not him. Lord Reginald was being quiet for other reasons, she was sure.
A
man such as him had plenty to occupy his mind, after all. He might have heard some distressing or frustrating business news. Or it could be that he was simply tired after dealing with people such as Miss Hennings all evening. She would not put it past the lady to have pushed Lord Reginald beyond the limits of his endurance.
Maria settled into the carriage. She was unsure how to handle the carriage ride home. Would Lord Reginald ask how her evening went? Would Miss Hennings have said something to him about Maria’s changed behavior?