Beatrice

Day 1

“Mother, this is absurd.”

“You’ll be fine. Just read those books of yours.”

Slam.

Mary Wollstonecraft and I will be the best of friends by the end of the year.

***

Day 8

“She’s rather large, isn’t she?” Lord Boone, how charming.

“Yes, but that only means she’s bound to bear and nurse many healthy children.”

“She looks like she already has.”

If I keep my eyes on the floor, do you think he could see me roll them?

***

Day 27

Mother and Dierdre fought again this morning. How dare she sneak another pastry on my plate. With the oh-so-convenient reduction in appointments around my feasting times, I have more than enough room for a couple more macarons.

***

Day 43

“But what can she do?”

I can read.

“She can clean.”

I can debate.

“She can cook.”

I can be happy on my own.

“She can serve.”

***

Day 65

“Mother, it’s been over two months now.”

“What an astute observation.”

“Can I at least go for a walk?”

“Open a window.”

***

Day 92

I’m thinking of writing a manifesto. Corsetry is a sin. Now, where can I hide these pages?

***

Day 128

“Lord Ashford, I’m pleased to present my daughter, Beatrice Hart.”

Curtsy then speak. “Pleased to meet you, Lord Ashford.”

“Likewise.”

He could afford to lower his chin a bit, and he appears rather old. Mother must be getting desperate, and/or she’s punishing me for not being prettier.

“Lady Hart,” he turned to my mother, as they all did. “You said your daughter was beautiful.”

“I did.”

“I can’t marry a dishonest family.”

“Thank you for your time, Lord Ashford,” I interjected and sat down.

You would’ve thought I just killed my father in front of these people.

“How brash and ugly a woman,” the man of the hour tried his best at courting me.

“Lord Ashford.” I cleared my throat. “You’re not much to boast about either.”

“Lady Hart, what kind of woman have you raised?”

“One with the courage to stand up to bloated, smug men like you!” Remember to always end things kindly. “Lord Ashford.”

***

Day 129

I was served just a cup of tea for breakfast. Considering yesterday’s performance, that makes sense.

***

Day 135

A week of just tea for breakfast helps one realize how nourishing one’s educational pursuit can be.

***

Day 147

Am I betraying myself if I prefer the way I look now?

***

Day 179

I fainted in front of Lord Finch today. He caught me, so there is at least one man not repulsed by me.

***

Day 203

“Miss Beatrice!” Light broke through the windows. My already-closed eyes winced.

“Yes, Deirdre?”

“You must wake up and hurry. You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Dierdre, why didn’t you watch me up sooner?”

“I tried. You just kept sleeping.”

***

Day 221

“Here’s your lunch, Miss.”

“Thank you, Deirdre,” I mumbled. 

Why can’t my neck be stretched? Just a bit more slender and long. That’s all I’m asking. And my face. Yes, I’ve lost weight, but none from my face. I still look like my child self. My waist should be smaller. Perhaps, a new corset would help. My arms should just be covered at all times. That must be why not one man has kissed my hand yet. They won’t come near my arms. Thanks to all that is good that I can’t see my legs in this dress, but I should be taller. Or maybe less wide. Or maybe both. 

“Here’s your dinner Miss.”

“Thank you, Deirdre,” I mumbled.

“Miss?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t eat your lunch.”

I turned to Deirdre, the first unreflected person I’ve seen all day. Wow. Look at her neck. Slender. Face. Mature. Waist. Trim enough. Arms. Only covered per her uniform. Height. Appropriate.

“Dierdre,” I turned back to my mirror. “I won’t be eating dinner anymore.”

***

Day 249

“Miss Beatrice, Lord Greathouse is here is see you.”

“Lord Greathouse. That sounds familiar.”

“Yes, you met him last month.”

“I did?”

“Yes, and it seems that he’s taken a liking to you. This is great news, miss!”

“I suppose.”

“He’d like to meet you in the garden, miss.”

“The garden? But, Deirdre, I can’t. Mother.”

“Lady Hart approved it. You have her blessing, miss.”

“Dierdre, I’m not feeling well today. Please send Lord Greathouse my condolences.”

***

Day 273

“Lord Webb, please meet my daughter, Miss Beatrice Hart.”

“Pleased to meet you, miss.”

“Yes, may I sit? I’m feeling faint.”

“By all means, miss.”

This poor man doesn’t even know he’s wasting his time. I should just tell him to leave, but then Mother would not be pleased. Someone here is destined for disappointment. Everyone’s doing this all for me. For months now, with no luck. Everyone’s wasting their time. We should give up. It’s easy.

***

Day 301

Do Mother and Dierdre conference and whisper at my door because they think I can’t hear them or because they want me to hear them? I know I’ve been in bed for weeks now. There’s no need to voice that observation.

***

Day 330

“Beatrice.” Mother closed the door behind her. “I’m going into town for some errands. I was hoping you’d like to join me. We can go to the book store you like.”

“No, I’m fine.”

***

Day 357

I don’t quite know how it’s possible to simultaneously feel pain and numb.

***

Day 365

“Miss Beatrice, Lord Greathouse is here to see you.”

“Dierdre, not today.”

“Miss, Lady Hart ordered me to take you to see Lord Greathouse, so I must take you to see him. Miss, please make this easy for me.”

“Dierdre, I can’t.”

I was then stripped of my bedding. Light broke in like it used to. Deirdre dressed my doll-like form and guided me to the room’s exit. I thought I would have been capable of larger steps, but I overestimated myself. We paused at least three times, having to catch my breath or slow my mind. With time and Dierdre’s support on my hand and waist, we stepped out of the room and into the hallway.