An Innocent Affair

XXI

"If we are to fight discrimination and injustice against women we must start from the home for if a woman cannot be safe in her own house then she cannot be expected to feel safe anywhere." Aysha Taryam

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XXI.

Cressie's young niece animated chatted about what she was anticipating for the upcoming Season and making oral lists of everything that she would need to procure before their departure.

"Oh, we simply must visit Desjardins as soon as we arrive!" Zara declared insistently. "Everyone at school says that one simply has to be dressed by Belle Desjardins upon their debut. To be seen in anything else is practically a social faux pas!"

Cressie had not been engaged in the conversation with Zara, and not for a lack of interest in what the young lady had to say. Her attention had been listening out for the sounds of gravel under hooves. She could recognise Dabney's footing every time as Everett rode the poor beast as hard as he could.

But her attention had been grabbed upon hearing Belle Desjardins' name. It was a name that had not crossed her mind in several years. Why would it when it was her husband who decided what she wore and when. But the minute she was reminded of the dressmaker, a sudden flurry of memories filled her mind.

"Belle," repeated Cressie, almost dreamily, as she recalled just how instrumental that woman had been to Cressie's happiness for such a short period of time five years earlier.

Zara's blue eyes found Cressie's. "Yes," she confirmed, "Belle Desjardins. Have you heard of her? You must have. All of my school friends, the ones who are coming out this year, are having her make their debutante gowns. I cannot miss out on my chance. What a sight I would be if I were the only one dressed otherwise."

"How would you ever find a husband?" Cressie's question was soft, but facetious. Belle's name had thrown her, but she could see how intent Zara was on being a successful debutante, and an eventual bride. Cressie would have wagered that a daughter like Zara would have been her mother's ideal.

Though, despite her own protestations, Cressie had married at seventeen and had saved their fortunes, just as Mrs Martin had wanted.

This was what Mrs Martin had wanted.

"Exactly!" cried Zara. "I am so pleased you understand. Grandmamma, bless her, doesn't know these things. I am secretly pleased that she is too fragile now to take me to London. And having been a debutante yourself only ... what ... five years ago now? You will know exactly what to do so that I might find myself a husband like Uncle Everett."

Cressie felt her face physically fall, and she could do nothing to stop it. All blood drained from her face as she saw the optimism in Zara's face as she described a husband like her uncle as her ideal. She saw rich and influential in a husband like Everett Delaney. She could not see the chains around Cressie's wrists, ankles, and neck.

Zara needed protecting. Zara could not be failed.

"What is it?" Zara asked.

But at that moment, Cressie heard that all too familiar sound of the gravel crunching. She rose from the wing back chair that she had been occupying and went to the window of the drawing room which overlooked the front of Everett's estate. Galloping down the hedged row was Everett atop Dabney.

It was odd, perhaps, for a gentleman, and particularly one as wealthy as Everett Delaney, to so often travel on horseback and not by carriage. Cressie had certainly wondered about it for a brief time during the early days of their marriage. But the answer had soon come to her without the need to ask. It was clear.