Page 50 of The Gentlewoman Companion

The full drawing room hummed, a testament to Lady Halverton’s popularity. No one dared refuse her invitation, even when it required an early morning discussion of a scandalous excerpt from The Canterbury Tales. They all came, even the vicar, whose presence made Louisa wonder if he would require her to repent now he knew what she was reading.

A discussion of “The Wife of Bath’s Tale” held great interest for Louisa, as she’d thought deeply about its meaning and reread it two additional times, making notes in her study journal. She had questions she wished to pose to the group, wondered if others saw the story’s implications. Lord Halverton’s presence, however, effectually sealed her mouth. Since her hinting at her Great Misjudgment, they had not spoken more than cursory greetings. Rather, she had not. Halverton had made several attempts to draw her out, inviting her to ride, proposing a walk, even offering to teach her to drive the horses. Louisa feared his questions and assumptions regarding the misjudgment she had alluded to, for she caught him watching her with a speculative look.

The last visitor arrived, was greeted and settled. Lady Halverton swept to the front of the room. “Welcome, friends, to our literary discussion. I shall begin by acknowledging that Chaucer can be unsavory. I say this to forestall conversation that might dwell on that fact. We can all agree that Alison is crass and violent and does not represent an ideal gentlewoman. Likewise, her tale is disturbing for various reasons. We could spend all evening deliberating the vices of the story, but we shall not. Instead, let us discuss what we learn from Alison. As with the other tales, ‘The Wife of Bath’ contains a preface wherein Alison describes her life, followed by the story Alison tells. May I ask someone to summarize the story alone? There is no need to review the preface. Thank you, Mrs. Beecham.”

Mrs. Beecham stood. “Very good. In the time of King Arthur, a knight is sentenced to death for…ahem…defiling a maiden. Queen Guinevere and her ladies beg the king to release the prisoner and allow them to sentence him. King Arthur agrees, and the women tell the knight they will release him if he can tell them what a woman desires above all else. He travels the world for a year, asking the question and receiving numerous but insufficient answers.

“Toward the end of his time, he finds an unpleasant-looking old woman who promises to answer his requests if he grants her a wish in return. Desperate, the knight agrees, and they gain audience with Queen Guinevere and her ladies. When they ask what a woman wants, he responds, as instructed by the old woman, that a woman wants dominion over her husband. The queen and her ladies are astonished at his wisdom and grant him life. The old woman claims her wish, which is marriage to the knight.

“On the evening of their wedding, the knight cannot…ahem…consummate the marriage. The knight tells his wife that he is unable to look upon her ugliness. She asks if he would prefer her to be an ugly but faithful wife or a beautiful but unfaithful wife. He tells her she must decide for herself, thus granting her sovereignty. The woman turns into both a beautiful and a faithful wife.”

“Well done,” Lady Halverton said. “Now, what do we make of the story?”

Louisa fingered the red journal Lady Halverton had gifted her. She held it in her lap in the event she wished to consult its pages, which were replete with her notes dissecting the prologue and attempting to draw parallels to the story Alison told. Although Louisa had appreciated most of the stories told within Chaucer’s work, this account held a particular fascination for her, for she found in the tale some small parallels to her own experience. The ideas stretched her mind and helped her draw connections that sparked understanding.

A middle-aged balding man whose name Louisa had already forgotten spoke while stroking his unfashionable beard. “We cannot discuss the tale without putting it in context of Alison, the wife of Bath. She is a domineering woman who marries for money and nags her husband. A lusty, unholy woman who abuses the Bible to justify remarrying so many times. There is little moral value in the story.”

“Are these stereotypes used ironically?” asked Miss Fisher. “To show the ends a woman must go to in order to achieve any sort of autonomy?”

“I must agree with Miss Fischer,” Lord Halverton said, granting Louisa an opportunity to stare at him. “When put into context, as Mr. Cheston suggested, we see that the wife of Bath would not have to stoop to such manipulation if her husbands had freely granted her self-governance.”

Yes! Precisely Louisa’s thoughts. If her father and aunt, for example, had offered her a choice in setting her future, she would never have committed the Great Misjudgment. Because she had not been permitted to govern herself, she’d known she must either serve the wishes of others or obtain her freedom in a radical way—which had resulted in dangerous circumstances and would make her the subject of scorn if publicly aired. Yet it was unfair for society to hope better of her because, as she’d synthesized after reading Mary Astell’s argument in “A Serious Proposal to the Ladies,” she and most women were not shown a better way. It seemed both men and women lacked the education and good examples required to overcome problems such as these. In Louisa’s opinion, the wife of Bath was a nag because it was the only way she knew to be heard.

“Miss Cron,” Lady Halverton said. “You are nodding. What say you?”

“Lord Halverton is correct. I do not believe that Alison is seeking to dominate her husband as much as wishing for the ability to choose for herself. When we, whether male or female, are granted this gift, we tend to choose better. The old woman in the story, for example, when she is given the choice, does what is best for herself and for her husband.”

The conversation continued around Louisa, increasing in fervor as it progressed. She watched the faces of the participants. Face pinched, Mrs. Trelawney took Miss Trelawney’s hand and clutched it in both of hers. Mr. and Mrs. Kent nodded or shook their heads in unison, indicating their level of agreement on any given remark. Miss Cron made several comments, which were backed by Miss Fischer.

Most of the ideas presented Louisa had considered herself, which gave her some assurance that eventually she would be able to speak as effectively as others in the room. Until meeting Lady Halverton, she had rarely been called upon to analyze or think critically. She hadn’t cared to. Her mind had begun to change, and she suspected there was some truth to the power of education.

Lord Halverton had extolled her wisdom but said she could not see it in herself. Since she was clever enough to participate in this discussion, if only within the pages of her journal, perhaps she did have something to contribute. But acknowledging her astuteness seemed contrary to one who had made a Great Misjudgment. How could she trust herself to see things clearly when she had gotten one enormous thing so terribly wrong?

Louisa caught Lord Halverton’s eye. He raised his brow. Her heart stuttered while the rest of her froze, unable to turn away. He tilted his head toward the door. Leave with him? She shook her head. He pointed to the clock on the mantle. Later. Had he guessed her misdeed and now wanted to clarify? She could not be alone with him, not after having nearly told him the full truth. But he might only wish to tell her something, perhaps related to his half-siblings, that he could not share with his mother. In which case, it was unkind to ignore him. She inclined her head very slightly.

He smiled and turned his head to the person who was speaking, his profile illuminated by the window behind him. Dark hair, an earnest expression, a fine figure. And compassionate. How had he understood that some of Alison’s behavior was wrought from necessity? Dared she hope he would recognize the same necessity in her actions?

When the party broke, Louisa joined Lady Halverton in thanking her guests for attending the meeting. She saw Lord Halverton beginning to slip out of the room.

Miss Fischer approached and took Louisa’s hands in hers. “Miss Thorpe, as soon as the room clears, you must come with us to Havenwood. We’ve a new donkey.”

At the invitation, Lord Halverton turned to Louisa. He shook his head and pointed to his chest. Come with me.

A pestering certainty that her days with Lady Halverton were numbered made her wary of declining Miss Fischer’s offer. Havenwood was likely Louisa’s future. Besides, the risk of Lord Halverton confronting her about her near admission was too great.

“Yes! Lady Halverton, do we have any engagements preventing us from visiting Havenwood?” Louisa watched Lord Halverton’s face fall, and her insides constricted as he retreated slowly from the room. Were his shoulders a bit slumped, his head a bit bowed? She felt her own body mirror his.

Louisa did not enjoy driving Nimbus to Havenwood. She could barely heed the conversation Miss Cron continually attempted. The new donkey was mundane, the strawberries flavorless, and the sun too hot. She sat with Miss Fischer, Mrs. Beecham, Miss Cron, and Lady Halverton on a blanket spread in the middle of a meadow, her stomach tying knots to remind her that Lord Halverton was alone in his lavish estate.

Foolish. He would not miss her, as he had plenty of responsibilities to occupy him. She patted down the fear that the overt dismissal of his invitation might make an end of their friendship, a relationship she did not want. Well, she did, but not when he flattered her or pressed her to share confidences. She had chosen correctly.

“…tire of the salons, we will go to Mr. Astley’s circus,” said Mrs. Beecham.

“I shall not tire of the salons,” said Miss Cron. “Lady Halverton, you must ensure we are invited to everything.”

Lady Halverton swallowed whatever she was eating. “I will do nothing less. We’ve had plenty of practice with literary discussions here, and my correspondence with the first ladies in London is strong. I will throw the best gatherings with all the most interesting people.”

“Who is Mr. Astley?” Louisa asked.