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Bridget smiled. “You forget, dear Sarah, that a person is only as old as they feel. I assume that she feels much younger than her age and thusly is wearing what makes her feel good.”
Bridget would have given anything to be able to see the room and all those colorful characters in it. She would have liked to see that infamous tiara for herself and decided on her own whether it was appropriate for a woman of that age although she firmly believed what she told her sister. However, the most potent desire to see came out of a need to seehim.Everyone else would fade away at the sight of Lord Joseph Turner, whom she could now neither see nor hear.
Occasionally, as the dinner party continued, Bridget could catch a glimpse of his voice from somewhere far away, almost as if it were coming from the other room. She wondered how long the dinner table must be when it seemed to house so many people. At some point, feeling overwhelmed by so much noise, Bridget welcomed the announcement that the ladies were to retire to the drawing room while the gentlemen would be left to partake in their port in solitude with one another.
The sound of scraping chairs was heard, and Bridget seized the chance to gently pat her sister’s hand. “Sarah?” she asked. “Could you please show me the way to the restroom? I would like to freshen up.”
Although she had not attended many balls or many dinner parties, she was well aware of the fact that excusing oneself during supper at a party was considered highly rude to the host and the hostess. Although she could not pinpoint where Joseph was seated, she was convinced that he would certainly notice her getting up from the table. She did not wish to draw any attention to herself in such a rude manner.
“Certainly, dear,” Sarah smiled, taking her by the hand. “Mother, I shall help Bridget find her way, then we shall return to the drawing room.”
“Very well, my dear,” their mother spoke kindly, then both sisters headed out of the room, stopping on the way to ask a servant girl for directions towards the restroom.
Bridget welcomed the sudden quiet which reigned in the corridor just outside the dining chamber. She inhaled deeply, relishing the sound of her own breath.
“Do you need to use the chamber pot?” Sarah quieted down while asking although it was obvious that the only guests walking throughout this incredibly large manor house were the two of them.
“No, I just need some time away from all that noise,” Bridget admitted.
“I understand,” Sarah replied as they kept walking. Suddenly, Bridget felt a gust of colder air as if someone had opened a door somewhere. She stopped.
“Is everything all right?” Sarah wondered.
“Is a window open?” Bridget looked around in an effort to ascertain where that sudden gust was coming from.
“None that I can see,” Sarah replied. “Come, we need to turn left down the corridor, and we should be there.”
But before they could even reach the end of the corridor, Bridget felt someone bump them from behind, a motion which separated them. Bridget’s anxiety imploded. Alone in a corridor she had never seen before, she listened to the sound of her sister’s voice.
“Sarah?” She trembled. “Sarah, are you there?”
“Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry…” Bridget heard an unfamiliar voice that seemed to belong to a younger woman with a slight accent.
“Oh, no, no, no…” This time, the voice belonged to Sarah.
“What happened?” Bridget asked, almost demanding. Her blindness in a situation like this was making her feel even more powerless than usual.
“She spilled a drink on my gown,” Sarah whined.
“Who did?”
“Their servant.” Sarah’s voice was an amalgamation of misery and annoyance.
“I am certain that it is nothing that cannot be washed off with a little bit of water.” Bridget endeavored to make her feel better.
“Why, yes, My Lady,” the servant girl spoke, hopeful that the situation could be easily rectified. “If you could follow me into the kitchen, I could clean it for you with some hot water.”
Bridget was certain that the girl might be at a risk of losing her employment if Sarah was unkind enough to complain about it. On the other hand, Sarah’s presence in the kitchen would be considered inappropriate for a lady like herself, but a lady would risk anything not to reappear before the rest of the guests with a stained gown.
“Why don’t you follow the girl, Sarah?” Bridget urged softly. She could not imagine it being a horrible stain, but even a small stain would mean discomfort for the lady wearing such a gown. She herself, on the other hand, would make no trouble had it happened to her. People would not say anything of her that hadn’t already been said.
“But I need to take you – “
“Nonsense,” Bridget waved her hand dismissively. “You just said that the restroom was down the corridor. Thisisa new place, but I am not so helpless that I cannot find my way down a simple corridor?”
“Yes,” the servant girl confirmed. “It is just a few steps away, My Lady. You cannot lose your way.”
“It’s settled then,” Bridget smiled. “Go on, Sarah, before the stain sinks in, and mother notices it.”
