Page 15 of His Illegitimate Duchess

Dear Miss Woodhouse,

My brother has unexpectedly gifted me three tickets to the special opening of the Vauxhall Gardens for Twelfth Night. His idea was for me and a friend to go, accompanied by my aunt Isolde. I thought of you because you once mentioned that you’ve never been.

If you’d be so kind as to accept my invitation, we can go to the Opera first (my brother has a box), and then enjoy a walk and some refreshments in Vauxhall.

I eagerly await your answer,

Yours etc.

Elizabeth Hawkins

“H ow did you like the Opera, Miss Woodhouse?” Aunt Isolde asked Elinor as they entered the Gardens.

Elizabeth turned her gaze from the hundreds of glass lamps illuminating the night to Elinor’s red, cold-kissed face. She must be freezing, Elizabeth thought sadly as she took in her friend’s thin cloak.

“It was wonderful! I enjoyed the happy ending the most.” Elinor smiled dreamily, and Elizabeth thought that even Isolde’s heart would thaw in the presence of her otherworldly beauty. “I am so excited to see Vauxhall Gardens, I can scarcely breathe!”

Elizabeth squeezed her friend’s hand affectionately.

Elinor had, despite her family woes, remained soft enough to dream and hope, and to express those dreams and hopes freely.

It was something Elizabeth greatly coveted for herself, but, with her characteristic sobriety, was aware she’d never attain.

“My friend Mary and I,” she told Elinor in almost a whisper because she didn’t want to share this with Isolde, “we used to dream of visiting the Gardens, and seeing the fireworks display. We’d even started saving our money for it, but it would have taken us months to set aside enough for two tickets then. ”

Elinor listened, blinking very quickly.

“Did your friend get a chance to go?”

“Oh yes,” Elizabeth smiled at the memory. “We went last May with our mothers, her father, and her husband. We all were in absolute awe.”

“That was only recently, then,” Elinor frowned slightly.

“Yes, this is only my second visit, and I am almost as excited as you,” Elizabeth smiled at her friend, who was more at ease now, knowing that she wouldn’t be the only one marvelling at every single thing.

During one of their visits, Elinor had told Lizzie details about her family and mentioned that her cousin had graciously offered to host her and give her a Season in London in hopes of securing a good match for her.

I have nothing but my looks, Elinor had admitted in a whisper, even though they had been alone.

Elizabeth was spending her own money to foot the bill for her household, the servants, maintaining a carriage, all the fur-lined cloaks and muffs and silk dresses she needed this Season, and her stomach hurt every time she looked at the amounts.

She still remembered very well what it was like to deny yourself things so you could purchase coal for the entire year.

But it had to be infinitely worse to be at the mercy of another.

“This lane is called the Grand Walk,” Isolde informed Elinor as they headed down a wide, tree-lined avenue.

“To the left, you can see the Rotunda, and the music you hear is the Orchestra on the right. After supper, we can enter some of the buildings if you wish, but for now I suggest we simply walk about.”

Elinor nodded eagerly. “It is all manicured so meticulously, and the decorations are most peculiar. Are those supposed to be stars?” She asked, pointing at a figure of artfully arranged lamps which, indeed, were supposed to represent stars.

“I think so,” Lizzie said, squinting at the lights.

“Someone told me that there are more than ten thousand lanterns in the trees illuminating these paths,” Isolde told them, and both girls gasped.

“That cannot be!” Elinor exclaimed, and Lizzie tried counting those closest to her to get a sense of whether it was possible.

“I personally like the coloured ones best,” Isolde said in an uncharacteristic display of gaiety. “They remind me of a Turkish lamp my Papa had.”

This was the first thing Elizabeth ever learned about her paternal grandfather, and she stored the precious morsel of knowledge away for future inspection.

“Are those flowers?” Lizzie asked, pointing up at what were, in January, supposed to be empty tree branches.

“Looks like it,” Isolde said.

“No, they’re lights,” Elinor said. “Yes, bouquets of lights. How magical!”

They seemed, indeed, to be different coloured lamps arranged to look like large flower bouquets. The women marvelled at the ingenuity of this and observed the plants, pavilions, and mechanical displays around them as they slowly reached the end of the lane.

“Let us turn back,” Isolde urged, “the paths tend to be less lit from here on.”

That had to be the wilderness she’d heard of, Lizzie thought; the dark part of the park filled with narrow serpentine walks where proper ladies didn’t venture to.

They soon turned left and eventually reached the supper room, where they found a table and ordered some food and drinks that Elinor insisted on paying for.

“Have you decided on a gown for Wednesday?” Isolde asked, then turned to Elinor to clarify. “Elizabeth will attend her first ball at Almack’s this week.”

“Almack’s? Lucky you!” Elinor exclaimed, and Elizabeth’s joy was marred by the guilt she felt.

She didn’t want her friend to be jealous of her or resent her, but she could understand it if that happened.

Elinor was a gentleman’s daughter, but had neither the money nor the connections to be admitted into such an exclusive establishment, even though her family's future depended on the match she would secure.

And here was baseborn Elizabeth, who, through no merit of her own, was being given all this money and all these opportunities.

“Are you excited?” kind, good-hearted Elinor asked her, and Elizabeth wanted to cry.

“More than anything, I’m scared,” she admitted in an uncharacteristically open way.

“What is there to be scared of?” Isolde scoffed, but Elinor nodded thoughtfully.

“I think I’d be scared, too. All these unfamiliar, elegant people… I’d worry myself sick about saying or doing the wrong thing.”

“I worry about somehow proving myself unworthy of the opportunity I’ve been given,” Elizabeth said, ignoring her aunt and talking only to her friend now. “I feel like there are so many people counting on me to be accepted, to find a good match, and sometimes it feels…”

“Like a boulder sitting on your chest,” Elinor finished, her eyes glistening with tears.

The two young women shared a look of understanding. Isolde cleared her throat.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” she said, and Elizabeth knew that, for her aunt, this was akin to a hug.

“Thank you, Aunt Isolde.”

Her aunt opened her mouth to respond, but then glanced behind Elizabeth and nodded at someone. Elizabeth heard footsteps approaching.

“Good evening, ladies,” a deep, dark voice said, and Elinor sat up straighter.

The newcomers moved into their line of sight and bowed. All three of the women stood and curtsied to Duke Colin Talbot, Mister Gideon Powell, and a third man who was introduced as Sir William Stone.

“May we join you for some refreshments?” Mister Powell asked, and Isolde magnanimously gave her permission.

“Of course, Mister Powell, please do sit down. Were you also at the Opera tonight?” she then asked, playing the hostess of their supper box.

“No, Lady Isolde,” Talbot replied. “We spent an evening at White’s and then spontaneously decided on a stroll.”

“Walking is very good exercise, I always tell my Elizabeth.”

Talbot looked at Elizabeth, who was sickened by her aunt’s ingratiation but hoped she was hiding it well.

“That is sound advice, Lady Isolde. How lucky your niece is to have you with her to impart wisdom and guidance.”

Aunt Isolde bloomed under the insincere attention, and Elizabeth felt her lip curl.

“Young women today are getting further and further away from the real values that helped shape my generation. Luckily, there are still a few beacons of class and manners, such as Lady Helena Grey. I take it you’re acquainted with her? Her mother is such a dear friend of mine.”

“Yes, I am,” Talbot replied, seeming confused by the direction of this conversation.

Lizzie was starting to feel cramps in her stomach from the mortification at her aunt’s behaviour.

“Now, that is a young woman after my own heart. The daughter of a peer, handsome, and so very accomplished,” Isolde said dreamily.

“Well, yes, it is good for young ladies to be accomplished,” Talbot replied conversationally. “Speaking of accomplished ladies, pray tell, how is your lovely daughter doing? She is in Kent, from what I remember?”

Elizabeth wanted to cry and thank him, but instead she discreetly pinched her forearm as much as her gloves allowed, and took several deep breaths as Isolde proudly discussed every minute detail of her daughter’s life.

Meanwhile, Powell never took his feverish eyes off Elinor. To Elizabeth, they resembled a wolf and a lamb, and the lamb was right to be frightened.

“Do you come to the Gardens often, Miss Woodhouse?” he asked her.

Elinor was wringing her hands.

“Tonight is my first visit,” she croaked and couldn’t stop blinking.

“And my second,” Elizabeth chimed in, feeling like she needed to support her friend somehow.

Sir William frowned. “How is that possible? I’m sick of it by now. My parents used to drag me here every week when I was a child.”

Neither woman said anything.

“And how do you find them?” Powell asked Elinor.

“They are magical,” she lifted her eyes and looked at his face for the first time since he sat down.

“You must stay for the fireworks then,” Powell said, seeming bewitched, and Elinor looked to Elizabeth, who nodded.

Since it was getting crowded, when they got up from dinner, they paired up so that every lady would be escorted by a gentleman. Powell, unsurprisingly, offered his hand to Elinor, while Talbot reached out to Lizzie, leaving Sir William with Aunt Isolde, which pleased Elizabeth greatly.

I hope they direct many insensitive remarks at each other, she thought petulantly before reprimanding herself.

“How do you find the Gardens, Miss Hawkins?” the duke asked as they walked.

“I think they’re lovely. What about you?”

“It’s something to do,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve seen it all too many times.”

“That seems to be a common problem,” Elizabeth replied as she looked around. “Most of these people are looking at each other’s bonnets and not really seeing anything else.”

“You still see everything with fresh eyes. In a few years, you shall also be looking at bonnets.”

“I hope not,” Elizabeth said stubbornly. “Aren’t there things you can see a thousand times and still be impressed? Like sunsets or the ocean?”

“The ocean?” Talbot asked in an amused tone, and Elizabeth felt a wave of shyness.

“My friend’s brother is a sailor. She reads us his letters in the evenings.

He writes about the cities his ship docks in, the endless days at sea, lone lighthouses, watching the rising sun, and he seems awed by all of it, even years later.

I rather like that attitude. I’ve always dreamed of undertaking a voyage to America,” she admitted conspiratorially.

“America?” He spat the word. “Where riff-raff feel entitled to rub shoulders with the descendants of kings? No, thank you. I'd rather stay over here, in the civilised part of the world.”

“No one is forcing you to go,” Elizabeth said pointedly, and he caught hold of himself.

Talbot then seemed to think about her words carefully.

“Perhaps it is only looking at man-made things that loses its lustre after a while,” he said in a conciliatory tone, as if giving her a small gift by acknowledging her opinion.

Elizabeth’s whole face was overtaken by her grin.

“That’s probably true.”

“Do you usually enjoy reading accounts of sea voyages? Or is it just this particular sailor’s stories that captivate you?” Talbot asked, back to his teasing attitude.

“I haven’t read any others, so I cannot say for certain. What about you?”

“I very much enjoy reading books about distant lands. Currently, I am reading de Chateaubriand’s account of his travels in Greece, Palestine, Egypt, and Barbary.”

“But you restrict yourself to reading instead of travelling?” It was Elizabeth’s turn to needle him.

“What can I say? I love Norwich and England too much,” he replied good-naturedly, not appearing to be threatened by her provocations regarding his adventurousness.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and then they watched the fireworks explode and paint the sky in a myriad of colours. Even Aunt Isolde’s face showed childlike wonder. In her exhilaration, Elizabeth never noticed that one of her companions was watching her instead of the sky.