“There are, of course, occasions in which a lady may enter into a private understanding willingly,” she added, carefully. “That is not what I speak of today.”
Her gaze moved from one face to another.
“I speak of those moments in which the choice is taken from her.”
For the briefest instant, Beatrice felt it again—that unwelcome pressure, the helplessness of it—but she forced the memory aside.
“We are told,” she continued, her voice steady though her fingers had gone cold, “from a very young age, that we are protected. That our fathers, our brothers, our companions will see us safely through every assembly.”
A faint tightening at the corners of her mouth.
“We are warned, certainly, to avoid certain situations. But we are also instructed to be agreeable. To smile. To encourage conversation. To avoid giving offense.”
Her gaze moved across the table.
“To speak softly. To yield. To trust.”
She let those words settle.
“And so when a gentleman behaves… improperly?—”
A few murmurs rose. Beatrice continued anyway.
“It falls to the lady to… dissuade him.” Her gaze moved around the table. “She is expected to do so politely. Quietly. Without causing embarrassment. Without damaging his pride. Without making matters worse for herself.”
Her hand tightened in her lap.
“And if she fails…”
Beatrice did not finish the thought.
She did not need to.
If a lady failed, she might be forced to marry the very man who had frightened her. Or cornered her. Or touched her without permission.
And if marriage could not be arranged—then she was left to bear the consequences alone.
The whispers. The shame. The ruined future.
The… pain.
Always the lady.
Always.
Beatrice drew a slow breath.
“So if we are expected to manage such gentlemen,” she said, “then it seems only sensible that we learn how to do it effectively.”
Now, at last, the table shifted. A glance here. A lifted brow there.
“Which brings me to why we’ve invited you here today,” she said. “We’d like to form a society where ladies learn and teach better methods of… dissuading."
Miss Harcourt leaned forward, her brow faintly creased. “What do you mean, exactly, by dissuading? Using words? Or in a more physical sense? It sounds practical in theory. And noble, perhaps, but most gentlemen are considerably larger than we are.”
Beatrice nodded.
“Both. In fact, there are several things a lady may do before matters require… forceful measures,” she said. “She may learn when to interrupt. When to refuse. When to leave. How to avoid being maneuvered toward a terrace or corridor. How to stand so that retreat remains possible.”
