Page 5 of Inventing Vivian

“Do not merely suppose,” Elizabeth said.

Dahlia opened her mouth as though to speak and closed it again. But then her demeanor took on a look of determination. She reached forward and took Hazel’s hand so they now formed a circle. “I, Dahlia Lancaster, will work to understand the bookkeeping, operations, and management of the steamship company I am to inherit.”

The women sat in silence, and Vivian felt a thrill. Her goal had become more than just a wish, made more insubstantial with every discouraging setback, but an objective that was actually achievable. And the difference, she realized, was that she had the support of people like herself. She looked between the other women, thinking that an hour ago, she would never have considered them more than the most distant acquaintances, but through their shared hopes, they had become something more. It was almost as if, through their joined hands and spoken words, a chemical reaction had taken place. But, of course, that was impossible.

“It is settled, then,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“When shall we meet to report our progress?” Vivian asked.

“The next ball?” Sophie suggested. “Lord Everston has a fine library.” Hazel smiled, and Vivian nodded.

Elizabeth looked at her cousin.

After a moment, Dahlia nodded as well, and Vivian saw the barest hint of a smile. “Shall we gather in the library at midnight?”

Vivian still found it difficult to believe that this was all real, that these women accepted her, and that their association may even evolve into friendship.

Elizabeth clasped her hands. “We shall do remarkable things this year, make ourselves into remarkable people, and none of us will need to rely on marriage to make it happen.”

Dahlia opened her eyes wide, reminding Vivian of a patient suffering from exophthalmos. “Elizabeth, be careful,” Dahlia said. “Such talk is dangerous.”

Elizabeth smiled smugly. “I should hope so. And we shall call ourselves the Dangerous Bluestocking Sisterhood. I like the sound of it. Positively scandalous.”

Vivian patted Elizabeth’s arm. The young woman was nothing if not passionate. “Perhaps it is a bit too... controversial.”

Dahlia nodded emphatically. “To say the least.”

Elizabeth looked as if she had a good rejoinder on the tip of her tongue, but when Hazel cleared her throat, she refrained from saying anything more.

Hesitantly, Hazel ventured, “In India the orchid represents femininity.” She smiled at Elizabeth. “And there is a blue variety of the flower.”

Asparagales orchidaceae, Vivian thought. A very good suggestion.

“I have never seen one; it must be very rare,” Sophie said.

“To the ancient Greeks, deep blue symbolized strength and bravery,” Vivian said, wanting to support Hazel’s idea. “A blue orchid, therefore...” She spread a hand in front of her, letting them finish the thought for themselves.

“Blue orchid,” Elizabeth said slowly. “It’s perfect.” She grinned.

“I like it.” Hazel smiled.

“I do as well,” Dahlia said. Even she looked excited by the idea.

Elizabeth mirrored Vivian’s nod, and Vivian felt a surge of anticipation as she looked at her new friends.

“Then, ladies,” Sophie said, “we shall officially be the Blue Orchid Society.”

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