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Chapter 4
The party at Hardon House held a vibrant energy. Everywhere that Matilda looked, someone was either laughing, dancing, conversing, or simply wearing a relaxed face of happiness. It wasn’t like other parties where there would be a pocket of people who didn’t want to be there. Everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves: everyone but Matilda. Matilda tried to make the best of things, but there was too much on her mind to really be as carefree as the other patrons. They also were allowed to drink. Matilda had never drunk before, but she figured if it made other people silly, it would have done wonders on her.
“You are quite stunning. Your features are so defined.” One woman who Matilda did not know said. She took a moment to try and put the face to a name or something, but nothing came to mind.
“Thank you. I very much appreciate that.”
“You’re very welcome.” The woman replied, walking off while taking a sip of her drink.
It was not the first compliment she had received that night.It had been one of many. She wondered if she had been as pretty as the women in her books, the love stories that she aspired to model after. Perhaps she had been close if everyone found her so pretty. But maybe not.
It was Charles who lowered that perfect image for her. Despite their impending engagement, he had been ignoring her the entire night, gallivantingaround with his peers. He looked as though he had been in his element, laughing at jokes, making quips of his own, and pretty much being the life of the party. It was in stark contrast to Matilda’s position in the party. Sure, she had been getting compliments and been around nice people, but there was little authenticity in it all. She had been to many parties in the past, and party behaviour was a lot different than everyday behaviour. But how could she trust Charles when his party behaviour was supposed to match his behaviour towards her on a regular basis?
Her moment of feeling down on herself ended as she was plucked back into the conversation. That time it was with one of Charles’ uncles, Grant. Grant was a short man who based his entire life on family. He had little to no hobbies, did not take a wife, and thrived off of the activities of everyone around him. Matilda only knew him enough to peg those characteristics about him, and she found him to be rather strange.
“I’ve heard some rumblings that there may be a special something happening between you and my nephew one day?” Grant said to her with a grin that was ear to ear.
It angered her so much so that she clenched her fist. She had never been asked about her situation with Charles. Everyone always seemed to decide her future for her. And because of that, it was rather hard for her to come up with a response to Grant. But she did.
“You know, I have not heard the whispers.” She forced an eloquent smile, one in which she had practised throughout her time in Hardon. Only time will tell, I presume.”
Grant nodded, his grin still on his face. “Well, I want to be the first to know!”
“Of course!” Matilda teased, proud of herself that she was able to fake such an interaction despite her true feelings.
When Grant took his leave, Matilda eyed the party once more. The chandelier, the red banners, the fancy silverware, everything was so over the top. Yet, she felt as though the best things in life were plain but filled with substance.
The women in her books never longed for anything fancy. They didn’t need beautiful, shiny chandeliers to light their lives up. All they needed was hope, passion, and love. They weren’t forced into marriages that lacked those things.
It was then that Matilda found her hand shaking a little. Her breath also grew more rapid. Thinking about her future made her sick and shaky. It was not something that she looked forward to. There was a lack of freedom in it. And whenever there was a lack of freedom in anything, that made her want to go to bed and go to sleep.
When it came to thinking about Charles, he brought her dread. As she looked at him at the party, that dread was only confirmed. No matter how hard she tried, a future with him simply would not work.
She imagines herself as a female hero in her book.
To calm her nerves, Matilda thought herself into the shoes of a character in a book. In her mind, she became a princess that had control over her entire future. She could have any romantic suitor of her choosing. In that image, she also wore the fabrics that she wanted to wear. They weren’t entirely plain, but they were not the threads that her mother insisted she wear in the real world.
Matilda imagined herself riding her horse alongside a man who looked as though he did not care about trivial things like his image among his peers. When he looked at her, he looked at her like she was the only one in the world. That notion brought Matilda from her daydreaming for a moment because it was something that could have been added to the list of things that Ann wrangled off that defined true love. She wasproud of herself for realizing what she wanted.
Giving Charles another glance off in the distance, she knew that her marriage to him was inevitable. And yes, it brought her down to a level of sadness, but maybe one day, he would mould into the man that she imagined. Maybe somehow, the butterflies that she lacked on that day would appear for her, and she would feel the things Ann listed. Perhaps hope was not just something resigned to an outside scenario or meeting someone else. It might have been that she needed to use that hope towards her impending engagement to Charles.
There were no easy answers for her. There was nothing that could be figured out at a party of all places. The thing that she knew she needed to do was take her mind off of the entire thing. She needed to avoid hearing about marriage, love, engagements, and everything in between. But the problem with that was the fact that it seemed to be all anyone wanted to talk about with her. When people looked at her, they immediately thought of Charles, it seemed.
That was when she came up with her final alternative—sneak out of the party altogether. It was the only thing left to do. No one would give her the time of day to just be herself. No one would allow her to not think about marriage and her future. So the only way to take her freedom back would be to escape the party altogether.
It would not be an easy task, as her parents socialized by the door. And for whatever reason, her mother kept glancing over towards her. She could probably tell just how unhappy she had been. If anyone knew Matilda well enough to tell her true emotion underneath her fake smile aside from Ann, it was her mother.
It was the entrance to the kitchen that gave her a chance. There was no by it, and all the food had already been taken out and put on display for the guests. Matilda knew that through the kitchen, there was a way out of the Hardon House completely. And with her mother suddenly enthralled in conversation with Grant, Matilda made a break for it.
She sneaks through the kitchen, taking a bite of pie. A little bit gets on her dress.
Her feet tiptoed through the kitchen in haste, her eyes darted every which way to make sure there was no one around. As she did so, her heart raced every second. She did not want to have to go back to the party. She just wanted to be left alone. And if she were to get caught, there would be a great deal of explaining to do, depending on the person. That was another thing she did not want to face.
Matilda had to dodge a few items on the floor that would have made more noise than welcomed. She wondered why there were pots on the floor in the first place, questioning the work ethic of her kitchen staff for a brief moment. And while doing so, she bumped right into Ann,who looked at as though she were tired yet disappointed.
“If you think I’m not going to point out the obvious, you are sadly mistaken,” Ann said.
Matilda’s heart sunk further as she envisioned herself having to go to the party once more, accept everyone’s fake compliments, and endure more talk about the future wedding that she did not want to take part in.
