My poor, silly dreams shrivelled, leaving behind a hollow aching space.
I found the guest room Aunt Phyllis said I was to sleep in, where my things were already laid out on the bed. It was a spacious well-appointed room. But it wasn't Grace's bedroom.
After I'd washed, avoiding the mirror, I walked down the stairs, along the passage to the back door, across the gravel, to the lawn.
There they all were, gathered in the autumn sunshine as if for a family portrait: Uncle Bertram, Aunt Phyllis, Maud, Charles, Grace, and William.
Maud raised her arm and waved and I moved towards them, greeted everyone, sat down, accepted tea, declined cake, answered questions about Mamma and Tom—but I did all these things mechanically as if someone else was moving my limbs and opening my mouth. I felt as if I was behind glass, existing in a world separate from theirs.
***
At dinner I sat between William and Maud. Thankfully, Maud chattered on and didn't seem to notice my monosyllabic replies. As for William, he scarcely spoke to me, apart from paying polite attention to my needs.
"Would you like more wine, Louisa?"
I tried to adopt the same careless tone. "Yes, please."
He filled my glass again, then turned away to talk to Uncle Bertram.
The wine was red, like rubies ... or blood. I swallowed some, finding it more enjoyable now, liking the warmth that was spreading through my body, the loosening sensation in my shoulders. The more I drank, the more my spirits rose.
A fleeting thought of Tom went through my mind and I smiled wryly to myself. William wasn't in the least bit interested in me, as I knew he wouldn't be. And I had no desire to try and charm him, even if I knew how.
Giving Maud minimal attention, I was able to watch Grace secretly. She was engrossed in conversation with her mother; the words, tulle, corsage, nosegays, drifted towards me, through the hum of talk.
In the candlelight she glowed, as if her skin shared the luminescence of the flames. I couldn't stop looking at her, though looking made my heart ache.
I gulped some more wine. I was beginning to feel lightheaded, a not unpleasant sensation.
Suddenly my attention was caught by something Uncle Bertram was saying about a law recently passed in Parliament.
"...letting women register for medical training! Pshaw! Whatever next?"
My heart speeded up.
Uncle Bertram carried on, "They'll be wanting to be lawyers, eh, Charles? What do you think of all this nonsense?"
I held my breath. Charles picked up his glass of wine and appeared to consider it carefully, before replying, "I'm with Maudsley on this one. You know what he says—a girl who is educated beyond what is necessary for her role as wife and mother cannot possibly reach the perfect ideal of womanhood."
I turned my eyes towards Grace to see whether she was as shocked as I was. She was obviously listening, but appeared to be unconcerned. A pulse began to beat in my head. It wasn't just what Charles was saying but the way he was talking. What a cold fish he was. How could Grace want to marry him?
Uncle Bertram shook his head. "He's right. These women—they hardly deserve the name! They're a disgrace to their sex! Aping men!"
"I quite agree." Charles smiled, and I think it was that that did it. It was such a smug, self-satisfied smile.
Leaping to my feet, I shouted, "How can you say such stupid things! Elizabeth Garrett Andersen is married, with children! And there are other brave, clever women who have struggled against all the odds to be doctors and proved themselves the equal of any man. They're not a disgrace to their sex but a fine example!"
The silence was absolute. Everyone was looking at me. I found I was trembling and I clutched the edge of the table for support.
Red in the face, Uncle Bertram said, "Hoity-toity, Miss! That's no way to speak to your elders and betters. Show some respect."
"But if the elders don't know better, why should they be respected!"
My heart was beating wildly. I was out of control, I knew, and I felt I might say anything. It was a glorious feeling.
Aunt Phyllis was behind me, her hand on my shoulder. "Louisa, dear, I don't think you're quite yourself. Wouldn't you like to retire?"
I shook off her hand. "But I am myself, can't you see? This is who I am. This is what I believe. And I tell you something—"
I paused and looked round the table—at Maud, who looked shocked but delighted, at William, who looked embarrassed, at Uncle Bertram, who was scarlet with apoplexy, at Charles, whose features—oh, joy!—were bulging as if he'd swallowed a frog. And then I looked at Grace who had turned pale, and I looked at her the longest...
"I want to be a doctor and it doesn't matter what my brother or any of you say, somehow, I don't know how, I will do it."
With my back straight, proceeding in as stately a manner as I could, I left the room.