‘Lillian Linton! Mind your language. And the reason for the secret language of the fan is that it is far more discrete than actual talk.’
‘I am not discreet!’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘I am fully aware of that, Lillian. You had better change that quickly or else you will never find a man to take care of you.’
She rushed out of the room and I scowled at her retreating back. How I would have liked to shout after her that I didn’t need a man to look after me, that I had my own job now and would soon be bringing home my own money. But I didn’t dare. I knew that if I even breathed a word of it, I would be locked in my room faster than I could say ‘unfair’.
So I frantically tried to memorize what waving an open fan signified, besides the fact that it was too hot and you wanted to get some air. While I waved at myself with the fan in front of the mirror and attempted to ignore the fact that for the first time in my life I was wearing an uncomfortably revealing off-the-shoulders gown, Ella entered behind me.
‘Oh Lilly!’ She came rushing up to me and hugged me, careful not to ruffle my hair. ‘We’re going to a ball! Isn’t it exciting?’
‘Yes, very exciting,’ I mumbled. I was still busy looking at the fan in the mirror. I noticed it was quite sharp at the end when not open. Idly I wondered what the message to a gentleman would be if he got a poke in the eye with it. I didn’t think one needed extensive knowledge of the secret fan language to understand that. Maybe the fan would have its uses after all. I tucked it away in my dress and turned to Ella, who was gushing excitedly.
‘…can you imagine how grand the ballroom will be? And the music, Lilly? I’ve never heard a quadrille[16] before, let alone danced it! I would so love to dance. If only-’
She broke off abruptly.
‘Yes?’ I asked distractedly, still trying to figure out the best way of using a fan as a defensive weapon. ‘If only what?’
‘Oh… err… nothing.’
What was this? Ella, being secretive? I would probably have paid more attention to this gross deviation from her usual character had not at that very moment my aunt stormed into the room and clapped her hands.
‘Girls, girls! Why are you dawdling? Come on downstairs, the coach is waiting!’
We followed her down the stairs and joined the other four waiting in the hall: Gertrude calm and composed as ever, Lisbeth even more excited than Ella, and Anne as well as Maria with the same self-satisfied smiles on their identical breathtaking faces, in the full knowledge that the rest of us owed the invitation to the ball to their charms. They probably expected us to thank them on bended knee when it was over.
Well, I had something very different in mind for my dear sisters.
‘Shall we go?’ Lisbeth asked eagerly, hardly able to stand still with excitement, and eying the door longingly.
‘Soon,’ my aunt snapped. ‘And don't fidget, Lisbeth. It does not become a true lady.’
‘Yes, Aunt.’
‘And straighten your ball gown.’
‘Yes, Aunt.’
I held my hand in front of my face to conceal my grin. Ball gown? Lisbeth’s dress was just one of her normal dresses, altered like mine. Our aunt must have worked overtime to prepare these for the ball - but it was still obvious they were not the best of ball gowns. My aunt’s pride and imagination had to do what her stinginess didn’t allow: change linen into muslin and glass into diamonds.
‘I,’ she said triumphantly and turned to the second staircase which was almost never used, ‘shall fetch your uncle now, girls. Wait here.’
We waited while she ascended the steps. We waited while she entered and we heard voices. The voices got a bit louder. And a bit louder still, especially hers. Then she came out of the room again, slamming the door behind her.
‘Apparently, girls,’ she said, rushing past us to the door, ‘your uncle feels that since we all are going, there is no need for him to leave the house and pay his respects to Sir Philip. He feels he would just be in the way.’ She huffed. ‘Very well then. Come!’ And like a general directing his troops, she directed us down the street towards where the coach was waiting - in my case, I felt like I had been pressed into service.
‘Can you imagine?’ Maria said to Lisbeth in a very audible whisper. ‘This is one of Sir Philip’s own carriages. He sent it along to convey us to the ball. What an honour for us to be favoured in such a manner.’
And Lisbeth, as the dutiful and thankful sister she was, gave the appropriate answer: ‘It is all thanks to you, sister, and to Anne. You must have made quite an impression on his Lordship.’
‘Oh?’ Maria giggled, and Anne joined in. ‘Do you think so? Well, I must admit he seemed quite taken with me.’
That stopped Anne’s giggling abruptly. ‘But not quite as much as with me,’ she added, throwing her twin a death-glare.
I was tempted to point out that he probably hadn’t been able to tell them apart, when their conversation and our advance towards the coach was interrupted. A young man came down the street and, seeing us, stopped and bowed. I recognized him: It was Edmund Conway, our neighbour’s eldest son. He was a good-looking, polite young man, but unfortunately for him, he was also neither rich nor noble. So my aunt rushed past him without even stopping to acknowledge his bow. Knowing that my aunt couldn’t see, I returned his salutation. Why not, after all? He was nice enough. But in spite of my politeness, he gave me an intensive and frankly disturbing stare - then turned and walked away towards his parents’ house.
‘What was that that about?’ I asked, turning to Ella who was standing right behind me. ‘Why do you think he was staring at me like that?’
Ella blushed. ‘Err… I have no idea. Let’s go, shall we? The carriage and Aunt Brank are waiting.’ She hurried off and I frowned after her. What was the matter with her? Must be the excitement of her first ball.
The carriage that waited for us in front of the house was indeed an impressive sight: large, bright red and with golden ornaments everywhere. Two servants in livery were sitting on the box, one of whom had jumped down to help the ladies into the coach. When he attempted to offer me his chauvinist arm, as if I couldn’t even get into a coach by myself, I gave him such a deadly stare that he quickly backed away and bowed. Good for him.
I pulled myself up into the coach. Maria and Anne were of course already sitting there, and had taken the best places beside my aunt, facing into driving direction. Ella, Lisbeth, Gertrude and I had to squeeze ourselves onto the other bench. Ah well, at least I wouldn’t see my doom approach.
