Chapter Sixteen #2
If Maria could have been guaranteed Miss Allen’s non-appearance, nothing would have delighted her more than going.
It would have been like her dream brought to life, winding through the figures and trading smiles and handclasps with him.
Perhaps from time to time he would bend to whisper in her ear, as he had at breakfast, and she would feel again that warm shiver. But as it was…
“There will be plenty of time to do whatever I like in the future,” Maria declared, affecting interest in the nearest shop window, which unfortunately belonged to a gun maker. “Ooh. Look at this one.”
Mrs. Ellsworth barely spared it a glance, only saying dryly, “You would perhaps like to shoot my son first?”
“Besides,” said Maria, airily marching onward to the ironmonger next door and staring at the andirons in the window as if she’d never seen the like, “I am used to having my sisters help me dress on special occasions, and now I haven’t even got a maid.”
“Bah. I am the best lady’s maid you will find, apart from your sisters.
How can I not be, having worked on the stage?
You need only ask my nieces.” Clicking her tongue, Mrs. Ellsworth wound an arm through Maria’s.
“Tell me the truth: do you not like dancing? Or you don’t like Benjamin’s dancing?
If the answer to either is yes, I will let the subject drop, though if it is Benjamin’s dancing, I will make him practice more, to please you. ”
Maria was beginning to understand that her mother-in-law was unstoppable. If she would not leave off after several hints, if only the truth would appease her, then truth it must be.
“Mrs. Ellsworth,” she began therefore, turning from the andirons, “I will not beat about the bush for excuses, then. The fact is, Miss Allen would be at such a gathering, and I…wouldn’t like it. It might pain me to see her.”
“All the more reason to go,” replied Mrs. Ellsworth through gritted teeth. “So you may see how she is nothing.” She flicked her gloved fingers. “Nothing at all. No, less than that. For him, she does not exist!”
The bell on the neighboring silversmith’s door jingled merrily, and, as if summoned by magic, the very-much existent Miss Verity Allen emerged, accompanied by her cousin Miss Hancock.
“The two Mrs. Ellsworths!” cried Miss Hancock. “What a pleasure to meet with you again, isn’t it, Verity?”
“Very much so,” said her more reserved cousin. With a nod toward the shop window she asked, “Do you like to choose your own spits and racks, Mrs. Benjamin Ellsworth? I would have thought that the province of your landlady.”
“So it is,” rejoined Mrs. Ellsworth, seeing Maria was still too abashed by Miss Allen’s sudden appearance to muster a reply. “It was only by chance we stopped here. In fact, we go now to the haberdasher. I thought a new ribbon for her China crape. For Friday’s assembly, you know.”
“Then you are going?” asked Miss Hancock, clapping her hands. “I am so glad, and so will George be! I ought to ask you for a dance on his behalf, Mrs. Benjamin Ellsworth. I’ve already done so for Verity.”
“Though I am neither married nor engaged as you two are, it need not follow that I am begging for partners,” Miss Allen said crossly.
Her rival’s annoyance could not help but lift Maria’s spirits. Did someone so lovely and favored really feel at a disadvantage, compared to her? Well, surely it did rankle, to have Benjamin snatched from her, whether he could have offered for her or not. No girl enjoyed losing an admirer.
“I would love to dance with George,” Maria returned. “Though wouldn’t he prefer to choose his own partners? I wouldn’t venture to make such promises for Benjamin.”
Miss Hancock laughed, her gawkiness relaxing into a winning ease. “But I thought you knew George! He only goes to please me because he says he dreads asking other young ladies to stand up with him, for fear he will tread upon them.”
Maria’s toes had indeed suffered George Denver’s assaults in the past, but her family’s love of him (and long practice in anticipating his movements) made her not only willing to dance with him but even to look forward to it.
If her husband spent the evening pining after Miss Allen, at least Maria could be assured of one friendly face.
Miss Allen and Miss Hancock accompanied them to Wootten’s, where they spent nearly an hour inspecting the advertised “large and valuable Assortment of Goods,” including linens, cottons, and silks, ribbons, gauzes, and hosiery.
Aware of her limited means, Maria admired but refused assistance, as did Miss Hancock. But Miss Allen placed no restrictions on herself, and soon many parcels were being made up for delivery to St. John’s College.
“Rebecca, how do you like this thread lace? Wouldn’t that look fine on my wrapper?” And, “Rebecca, do you think pink persian is too old-fashioned? Mama always tells me I must wear blue to match my eyes or shades of yellow for my hair, but one does grow weary of everlasting blue and yellow.”
Mrs. Ellsworth spied Maria fingering a sample of pale Claret three-penny ribbon and instantly took it up.
“Voilà! This is just the color to trim your China crape. And how pretty it will look in your dark hair. I know what we will do—we will spend the week making tiny rosettes for the hem and the neck, and even tinier ones for the sleeves. You will be the belle of the assembly.”
While her eyes glowed at the thought, Maria forced herself to shrug. “No one in Oxford has seen my China crape yet, so it doesn’t need new trimming.”
“Bah. I will buy it. It is a wedding present, and then we will go home and set to work.”
Maria would have protested longer, but Miss Allen was near enough to hear everything, so she yielded, promising herself that she would think of some way to make a little pin money of her own.
But how? She could not go out for governessing, but perhaps she could take in sewing or watch children during the day.
Yes. She would pore over Benjamin’s discarded newspaper for possible situations.
At home the trimming of bonnets and dresses happened with little trouble, using shared scraps or little gifts from the remnants of Mrs. Dere’s elegant wardrobe, but now...
Miss Allen’s smirk when Maria acceded to her mother-in-law’s gift vexed her, but it did not prevent her from asking if she and Miss Hancock might like to return to Pembroke Street with them for refreshment.
“Oh!” breathed Miss Hancock eagerly. “What do you say, Verity?”
“Perhaps another time,” answered her cousin with her cool smile. “We were going to walk as far as the Angel Inn, remember, Rebecca?”
“How could I forget?” chuckled Miss Hancock. “My cousin is quite an enthusiast for coffee shops and comings and goings, and I did promise her.”
“If you rarely ventured beyond the bounds of Oxford, you would be interested in the world’s comings and goings as well,” Miss Allen replied, hooking her cousin’s arm in her own. “Come. Good day to you, the two Mrs. Ellsworths, and we will see you at the assembly, if not sooner.”