White Gate Heart

• Chapter Eighteen •

It was with a light and rapid heart that we awoke. The ball was far aways in the day, but our excitement was uncontainable; practically unbearable. 

My fork hovered above my slice of ham as my eyes froze in a trance. Infinite strings of questions plodded into my mind and I felt my eyes disconnect from the view in front of me. 

With a skipping heartbeat and a startle, Lydia snapped her fingers in front of my face and laughed gleefully. Thomas seemed to roll his eyes at our shenanigans. Boys misunderstood the true experience of a ball, especially after absence from one after years. 

Father coughed nervously and we all froze in curiosity. His attention seemed to be directed towards me. My body felt alarmed and my hairs stood on end in panic. Was it the way I was eating? Was I slouching? Did I say something disrespectful to him? Heat flashed through my body and I felt lightheaded. My mouth held slightly ajar and I fidgeted uneasily with my fork. Father furrowed his eyebrows at my twiddling and gave a piercing gaze at my moving fingers, warning me to quit it. I did and resorted to folding my hands in my lap.

"I suppose there will be... men of good status at this ball. It's quite a large gathering," he commented somewhat merrily. My mouth twisted in odd disbelief and I cocked my head in surprise. Father appeared average upon this subject. He didn't speak in  sarcastic gestures and retorts, what was he clarifying to me? 

"I suppose," Lydia finally interjected for me. I nodded in agreement and stared at my plate. 

"I'll be sure to introduce you to many amount," he ignored Lydia. Turning to me yet again, I felt my cheeks blush with red at the thought of such introductions. 

Staring at Lydia, she seemed beyond upset at his implied statement. He was in hopes of my courtship and marriage far too soon. Lydia was two years my senior, surely Father would hope to find her a man to accompany first. He seemed sure of himself and did no reprimanding upon his sentences. 

Lydia's lips seemed to tremble for a moment before she regained control. Father paid her no mind and pushed himself upwards before excusing himself to his bedroom. Lydia allowed the tears to flow silently and I found myself reaching across the table to grab her small and fragile hand. A napkin was pressed to her lips to cage in her sobs. Thomas seemed caught in the middle of the situation and shifted uneasily in his seat. 

"Thomas, how about you go do a little adventuring? Stay very close to the inn so we can call you if needed," I suggested without his reply. He was more than joyous to relieve himself of the awkward situation. 

I moved and sat next to Lydia, reaching my arm around her to rub her opposite shoulder. She leaned into my chest and her tears flowed down my garment. She appeared to be far more upset than ever, and I felt like there was some further problem into her breakdown. 

"Lydia, what has caused you to cry so?" I asked quietly, so as to lessen her commotion. Tearing herself from my envelopment, she dotted her eyes and sniffled.

"I'm going to grow old without a husband and bear no children! Don't you see?! I've exceeded the stage where there are men my age unmarried, you haven't. I'm nineteen, surely you still have more opportunities than I. It is the realization of such a thing that brings me to tears," she shrieked loudly, receiving a few pitied glances. Nodding while shushing her gently, I was unsure of what to say. My mouth opened to speak a word of encouragement, but I felt frozen in my place. The parched texture of my tongue worsened as I held my mouth open. 

"Don't think such a thing. Father is getting into your head, don't give him that luxury," I advised before releasing her shoulder gently. What else was I to say? Part of what she said was true. Most women of our age were married at this point in life. It didn't help Lydia's situation when she thought about her friends and their husbands, one particular girl already had a child.