We're From Different Worlds (p)

Diane confidently linked arms with Mary, surprised by the elegant gesture. She nodded in reply to Mary's question, more of a statement than anything else. "We have some time before it begins," she remarked cheerily, giving the other woman a genuine beaming grin. Is she blushing? Diane thought she'd imagined it as she stepped into the carriage, the crease of her arm still locked onto Mary's elbow affectionately. The driver started the horses and the carriage was off. She felt the unpaved road beneath them as she surveyed the moonlit world outside the window. The excitement was building in her chest. She'd been to a million of these events over the course of her lifetime. They'd become something of a chore. But maybe they'd be different now. This time, she had Mary with her.

“Well, the event is formal, and we’ll probably eat dinner at the following dinner party’s in the Lafreniere Manor. It’s a social event, so there’ll be people trying to talk to you and fussing with you all night, but don’t worry about them,” she reassured her, giving the other woman a reassuring glance: “I can take you home afterward, or if you live in th city heartland, you can stay a time our manor for a night,” Diane suggested hesitantly.

“You’re from Ireland then, hmm?” Diane turned to Mary with a sympathetic smile. “Tough to get jobs nowadays with employers knowing that... and you must be Catholic too, then,” she grimaced, remembering how fellow colleagues repeatedly had insulted foreign folks in public. She was a Protestant herself, not unlike most residents of the city at the time. While she and her family were not fans of Catholics, they had adopted a “live and let live” mantra in order to survive in business— and in the rapidly-changing societal demographics of industrial America.

“I hope you’ll have a good time tonight, then. I’m sure it’ll be different from the parties back at home.”

The carriage skidded to a halt just outside the manor, and the thoroughbreds pulling the vehicle let out whinnies of protest. As the driver hushed them, Diane hopped out, entering through the wide-open gate.

“Welcome to the Levenhooke estate, Mary.”

The illustrious Levenhooke manor sprawled out in front of the pair like a Persian rug— homely, delicate, and intricately crafted. With a spired roof and groves of orange trees surrounding either side of its red brick walls, the estate could be seen in its full majesty from the gate where the two were standing.

“If you think this is extravagant, just wait ‘til we get to the opera house,” Diane laughed, giving Mary a grin. “Anyway, come on in, don’t be shy,” she prompted, starting down the driveway as a white-haired butler graciously opened the door.

“I’ll just get dressed quickly and get ready for the event tonight,” she replied flippantly to Mary, smiling triumphantly at the other woman’s awe. Why was she so eager to please a commoner? The idea almost made her stomach churn, but when she was back in her familiar environment the feeling subsided. “Come right in,” she gestured, stepping up the marble stairs and approaching a wide oak door leading to her private rooms.