It's Not Just What You Know, But Who
Meredith's Tender Awakening 5:2
Previously Meredith penned a letter to her dear friend Ariadne, skirting around the reasons for their separation.
She tried to look back in time, to reexamine conversations they’d had pertaining to men and marriage. Had there been opportunities when Ariadne had hinted at her dreams or infatuation? Meredith thought no, but she could not be sure. Her gut reaction would always have been to counsel her friend on the folly of the plan, Mr Barclay being of lower social class and earning very little as a pianoforte teacher. To her best recollection, Ariadne had only mentioned his attentions once, on that day before their bungled elopement, and she had poured scorn and ridicule on the idea, and tried to distract the young lady with an anecdote.
Am I a bad friend? Meredith pondered. She hoped the answer was no, but she knew she was guilty of being a little bossy. Since Papa had died, Mama was often distracted and had given her small daughter a looser rein than many young ladies of her age. Initially, Meredith had sat quietly when ladies came calling, but soon she had joined in with the chatter and discourse as if she was their equal, and nobody had thought to put her in her place or correct her.
As she pulled up the sheets and blankets of the unfamiliar bed, Meredith sensed her heart still racing with pent-up excitement from finally arriving in Bath. It had been an arduous journey, with bumpy country roads and the steep hills that she’d written of to Ariadne, and yet the promise of exploring places she’d only heard about and meeting fresh faces was uplifting. After socialising for most of the season with an almost incestuously-limited round of marriage-mart hopefuls she was experiencing butterflies at the prospect of dances and tea rooms full of strangers.
Soon, despite the thrill of anticipation, sleep pulled her under its heavy blanket where her subconscious entertained her with visions of parties and grand houses, but Meredith always found herself without a calling card and could not seem to remember anybody’s name. When she awoke in the morning she felt troubled, rather than refreshed, the feeling of gloom clung as the maid helped her into a morning gown, as if a faux-pas from her dreams was real rather than imagined.
The breakfast room was bustling, and Meredith was forced into conversation with Mrs Bairstowe, while her husband retreated behind a newspaper. She dropped a toast crust to their dog, a rough-coated black and white specimen named Badger, a move which caught Mr Bairstowe’s attention. Ir caused him to clear his throat and speak, in a deep rumbling voice.
“I was sorry to hear about your father’s demise. He was a fine fellow, we were at school together.”
Meredith swallowed and thanked him quietly. She was unused to talking to people about her father. Whenever they said kind things she felt under scrutiny to mask her emotions, but their concern had a way of making her mask crumble.
“Will you want to join me when I visit the D’Arbys?” Aunt Olivia came to Meredith’s rescue by changing the subject. She had turned to Mrs Bairstow who was helping herself to another kipper.
“That’s kind of you, but no. We had the longest chat last month, when the Admiral was gracious enough to open up his gallery to other memers of the Ton.”
Aunt Cecily was nodding with understanding and graciously accepting a second cup of tea when Mr Bairstowe shook his paper and made a harumph noise.
“Gracious!” he sniffed, “Showing off his latest acquisition more like. That fellow’s as proud as a peacock, and not half so bright.” Then he pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll be in my study if anyone wants me. C’mon Badger.” And with that, he and the dog left the room.
“Pay no attention to Mr Bairstowe, dear,” Mrs Bairstowe soothed Meredith, who was looking surprised at the outburst. “He’s always grumpy in the morning.”
Aunt Cecily also smiled encouragingly at her, but Meredith was secretly delighted it had raised his dander. She had been given a little insight into the grand family to which they were about to be introduced. Rich, titled and boastful – it didn’t bode well.
[To be continued …]
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