Not run when she did?
“Ah, George, George...” She’d run because of him, hadn’t she?
With a weary sigh, she rose and walked toward the entrance.
Outside, it had begun to rain again. She opened her umbrella and looked down the street, but of course he had already disappeared.
The next day,she took the carriage to Lady Penworthy’s home, for that afternoon she was to join her secret book club that was meant for ladies only.
In truth, she did not know what to expect.
When she arrived, Lady Penworthy hurried towards her with both hands extended. “What a pleasure to have you join today! You will see, you will enjoy this immensely.”
Viola hoped she would, but she had her doubts.
There were only four more women present: two older ladies and two around Lady Penworthy’s age. Lady Penworthy introduced Viola, and they appeared welcoming and kind. They were so talkative that it was unnecessary for Viola to say much, so she decided to just sit back and listen.
They were discussing Selina Sable’sThe Monk and The Maiden.
Viola sat stiffly in her chair, in a circle, clasping the copy of her own book, a smile pasted on her mouth, nodding at whatever the ladies were saying.
“The monk, of course, is a universal metaphor for the maiden’s externalised sense of terror, anxiety, and desperation, juxtaposed to the ever present sense of female helplessness—which she overcomes. Like Wollstonecraft writes, it is the female condition overall that the author so explicitly and expertly portrays in the book, of paralysis and fear. She vanquishes it triumphantly. It is so brilliantly done…”
Viola had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, but she supposed it did not hurt to agree with them.
“What do you think, Lady Viola? Do you think the author intended that universal metaphor which appeals to us all?”
All eyes were on her. “Ah. Err. Yes. Definitely so. Horror and fear. These are, huh, truly fearful feelings.” Goodness. Just because she wrote a book did not mean that she really knew whatever kind of universal metaphor she’d used in it. Accidentally, no doubt. As far as she knew, she just enjoyed writing the silly story. She wrote it to entertain herself, and she wanted her readers to enjoy it as well. That was all. Truly. “The maiden was very much afraid of the monk,” she concluded lamely.
The ladies nodded.
After an hour of such talk, Viola was thoroughly exhausted. When it was finally over, she rose gladly, ready to leave, ready to never ever attend one of those sessions again.
But Lady Penworthy held her back by taking her hand. “I so enjoyed having you here. I feel you brought another level of insight to our circle, and I would very much like it if you could repeat it with us.”
Viola’s smile was strained, and she did not know what to reply. She enjoyed Lady Penworthy’s friendship, but notnecessarily these book clubs that left her feeling awkward and put on the spot.
“I should like to chat more with you, for there is so much to say! But, alas, I must go to Parliament now. There is an important debate happening, and I have promised Sir William that I would listen in so I can advise him on it later.” She leaned in with a wink. “He only votes for what I tell him to, you know.”
Viola’s head snapped up. “Parliament? But I thought women were not allowed in there.”
“Indeed,” she smiled mischievously. “But we have found a way where we can listen in on their debates without being seen. Would you like to come along?”
Viola clasped her hands. “Oh. I would very much like that, indeed!”
Lady Penworthy suggested that Viola join her in her carriage, an offer that Viola gladly accepted.
On the way to Westminster, Lady Penworthy said, “They are debating a proposal regarding the reduction of customs duty. It is a topic that interests me tremendously because it affects us directly. I shall persuade my husband to vote for the reduction.”
Viola nodded politely. “You seem very invested in politics. I can’t say so for myself, truth be told. But I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to hear a parliamentary debate.” And the chance to hear Sebastian speak, but she would never tell that to Lady Penworthy, of course.
Lady Penworthy smoothed her skirt with her fingers. “Next to my passion for romances and tales of terror, politics is very dear to me. If they were to allow women in the Commons, I would be the first to be there and hold an impassioned speech not only on the necessity of eliminating customs duties but also on parliamentary reform.”
“Well, I am a profoundly unpolitical person, but what you are saying appears to be quite sensible.” Viola nodded, not knowingshe’d just endorsed several core Whig principles which would send Sebastian, a staunch Tory, into an apoplectic fit. “Your husband, Sir William, will he be speaking today?”
“Goodness, no. He is not a great orator. He has no seat in the Lords, you know. Only the Commons will have him, which is just as well.”
Viola nodded, since the same was the case for Sebastian. As the fourth son of a viscount, he was not a peer.
