Page 64 of The Gentlewoman Companion

A great fire flickered off a wealth of gold gilding, lending the room a red glow. Powdered wigs, face patches, and fans added as much to the décor as vases and cushions. So surrounded, how had she been noticed?

Lady Halverton whispered, “Tell them.”

Her lips peeled apart. She began to speak, determined to form each word with slow precision. “Many, in arguing that women are equal to men, take the matter too far and begin suggesting that one or the other gender is superior. Take Monsieur Boudier, whose initial points validate the need for women’s education but devolve into convincing women of their limitations. If men are inferior to women, it is because they deny female intelligence. If women are secondary to men, it is, as Madame de Gouges suggests, in woman’s failure to demand the rights that belong to a reasoning mind.” Louisa made eye contact with Mr. Arnold to ensure he was not offended. He gave a brief nod, accepting the rebuttal.

“You believe, as de Gouges argues, that the judgmental and petty nature of women prevents their being accepted as equal to men?” asked Lady Montparnasse.

“Not all women share those vices, but we certainly do not serve ourselves when we are unkind,” Louisa continued. “However, women are not more culpable than men, nor can we claim a greater share of virtue. We all have weakness. Only by uniting our strengths, women and men together, do we overcome our foibles.”

The room fell silent. It was all Louisa could do to manage her breath and hold her chin high, accepting the stares that urged her to hide. She dug her nails into her wrists. A deep breath did nothing to ease her unsteadiness. She emptied her glass of champagne and clamped her jaw tight to prevent her teeth’s clattering. But inside she was soaring.

While this speech was not the secret she sought to unravel from the observations in her journal, she had expressed herself clearly. Even if no one else in the room agreed with her, she was proud of herself—a feeling she’d almost forgotten. Lady Halverton squeezed Louisa’s arm, sharing the triumph.

Three or four people began speaking at once, shaking their tracts and arguing over one another. Drained by her speech, Louisa could barely heed the argument that grew increasingly fervent.

Across the room, Lord Halverton sat by one of his former university professors. His face may have looked placid to some, but a gleam of pride lit his golden eyes, cooling her head and calming her breath. She nodded to him and pressed her hand to her heart, not understanding exactly what she meant by it other than to thank him for his support.

Sitting a chair away from Lord Halverton was Miss Trelawney, surrounded by three young ladies of similar age. Perhaps Louisa’s well-executed comment would earn the respect of Miss Trelawney, who would then introduce Louisa to her friends. All four were pretty and sophisticated, with lightly powdered hair, glowing skin, and beautiful clothes. The three young ladies bent toward Miss Trelawney, who appeared to be whispering. A bit of gossip? Louisa longed to be part of such a circle.

As Miss Trelawney spoke, each of their faces evolved into various expressions of shock—an open mouth, raised brows, a gentle shake of the head. In unison, the four young ladies turned their eyes on Louisa then flustered away, looking everywhere but at Louisa.

They were speaking of her. No doubt Miss Trelawney was telling her friends everything she knew about Louisa’s running away. Louisa grew hot, the triumph of a moment ago slipping away.

Turning from the young ladies, her gaze caught Lord Halverton, whose attention was captured by Miss Trelawney and her friends. His brow was lowered to a thick, dark scowl. Lord Halverton said something that made the young ladies blanch and flick a look at Louisa in turns. The warmth in Louisa’s chest altered to something more comfortable.

What had Louisa to be ashamed of? If Lady Halverton and her son saw nothing untoward in her standing against her father’s wishes, Louisa would do her best to own the action. She tightened her middle and raised her chin, meeting each embarrassed or curious glance with equanimity. Their scorn could not compare to what she imagined she would face were her Great Misjudgment discovered.

Beside her, Miss Cron finished quoting Shakespeare to a neighbor and turned to her with a smile.

“You did very well,” she said. “Referencing Monsieur Boudier was brilliant.”

That meant something, coming from Miss Cron. Though a bit dry, Miss Cron would never shame Louisa. Friends were not always found where Louisa expected them. Her imagination would never have stretched so far as to believe she and Lady Halverton would become close. Even more surprising was Lord Halverton, whose kindness belied all probability.

Beneath the immaculate folds of his neckcloth, Lord Halverton harbored a sensitive heart that held no room for injustice. Finding herself the beneficiary of his generosity made her feel as though the very earth beneath held her fast, safe and secure. That he would do the same for anyone only strengthened her admiration of him.

Lady Montparnasse quieted the assembly and, in the most subtle and polite of terms, insinuated an end to the gathering. Louisa and Lady Halverton headed toward the door, but a flock of chattering ladies congregated around her, taking her hand, asking for introductions. Louisa strained to isolate one word from the next. Shouldn’t they be speaking with Lady Halverton? But their eyes were on Louisa, so she smiled and took their hands, and pushed her way through the crowd to the door.

Outside, Louisa and Lady Halverton huddled against the damp, cold evening as they waited for their carriage.

“Your opinion caused a near riot, my dear,” the countess said, her breath chilling white.

Louisa opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. She would not decline the compliment.

Mrs. Trelawney appeared beside Louisa. “Lady Halverton, Miss Thorpe, how do you do? An interesting evening to be sure, if you’re of a mind to sit through so much noise. Heavens! When Mrs. Prichard said that…”

Miss Trelawney peeked around her mother, her shoulders shrunken, her eyes refusing to maintain contact with Louisa, who considered turning away to search the crowd for Lord Halverton.

But hadn’t Louisa just spoken about the importance of kindness? And where would she be without Lady Halverton’s generosity?

Though her feet felt heavy, Louisa stepped around the two older women and took Miss Trelawney’s hands, her breath stiff. Half expecting a rebuff, Louisa said, “I am glad you are here. These salons can be tiresome when one is not well acquainted with many guests. What did you think of the discussion?”

“I thought you expressed yourself well.” Miss Trelawney did not maintain eye contact.

“If that is true, it is only because Lady Halverton and I discuss the materials beforehand. She is an excellent instructor. Do you enjoy the readings? I admit my own enjoyment is a recent development.”

Lord Halverton arrived and greeted Miss Trelawney coolly.

“Miss Thorpe,” Miss Trelawney said. “Some of us are riding in Hyde Park tomorrow morning.” She glanced at Halverton. “I would be pleased if you would join us.”