Chapter Fourteen
As
it turned out, Margie chose to have her social engagement on
Wednesday. Despite the feeling of dread in her stomach, Natalie
took the carriage to her house. She would have walked, but who knew
if she’d trip on something and embarrass herself again? A carriage
ride seemed to be the less risky option. And, as she hoped, she
arrived at the residence without incident, which saved her from any
“helpful” advice from Fran, Katherine, or Janet.
Unfortunately, however, Annabelle wasn’t
there. “She had to help her mother with some bookkeeping at the
last minute,” Margie told Natalie as she sat in the formal parlor.
“She promised to be here in a half hour.”
Relieved, Natalie accepted the cup of tea she
offered, making sure she held it, and the saucer, correctly.
From there, Margie began a discussion on the
book she was currently reading, and shortly after that, Fran,
Janet, and Katherine dominated the conversation.
“I’m rather fond of
Les Misérables,” Fran
said. “The author lived in France most of his life, but my father
found his book in Britain and brought it home as a gift. I love
books written by authors in other countries.”
“I haven’t read that book yet,” Janet chimed
in.
“I’ll let you borrow mine if you want to read
it,” Fran offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” Katherine said.
“There are copies in this country.”
At this point, the maid came into the room
and whispered something to Margie. Margie quickly set down her
teacup and saucer. “I have something I need to tend to,” she said
as she rose to her feet. “Keep on talking. I’ll be back in a
moment.”
“My copy of
Les Misérables came from
Britain,” Fran told Katherine, picking up where she left off. “And
it was signed by the author himself.”
The group gasped, making Natalie aware that a
signed copy of a book was an impressive thing to have.
“What about
Little Women?” Rosalyn
spoke up. “The author of that book lives in this country, and it’s
wonderful.”
“I still prefer to read books that were
written by people in other countries,” Fran said. “I feel like I
learn more about the culture in another country when I read
them.”
“I suppose that’s a good
reason to read those,” Rosalyn replied. “I still think you should
read Little Women sometime. You needn’t be such a literary snob.”
Natalie glanced at Fran to see if this would
offend her, but Fran only gave a mock gasp and then laughed.
“Rosalyn, you’re a sly one. I don’t care what you do. You’ll never
get me to make a public outburst about anything.” She chuckled then
sipped her tea.
Rosalyn grinned at the others. “Fran and I
made a bet. She bet that no matter what the situation, she can keep
her calm at all times.”
“Oh?” Katherine asked, looking intrigued.
“And what did she bet you couldn’t do?”
“She bet that I couldn’t keep myself from
eating chocolate,” Rosalyn said. “I’m a little tight around the
waistline and need to watch what I eat. Chocolate is my
weakness.”
“Maybe you’re expecting a child,” Katherine
replied.
Rosalyn shook her head. “I’m not, though I
wish I could use that as an excuse.” She then glanced over at
Natalie. “I wish I had your figure. You’re absolutely perfect. It’s
no wonder Mark took one look at you and fell in love.”
“I’m sure there was something in her
personality he liked, too,” Fran added.
Natalie couldn’t be sure, but she thought
Fran had just subtly put her down.
“While we’re on the subject of books,” Janet
began, “we’re fortunate that we have so many books to choose from.
I can’t understand why some people choose not to read.”
“Some people don’t have time to read,”
Rosalyn replied. “They’re too busy working on a farm.” She gestured
to Natalie. “Her family grew up on one. Annabelle said that you
came from a small farm in Kentucky. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Natalie slowly said, not
sure where this was going.
“How many books did you read?” Katherine
asked.
“I only read what was required in school,”
Natalie replied.
“How many was that?” Katherine
encouraged.
“Not much.” Natalie shrugged. “I didn’t count
them.”
“What kind of books did you read?”
“Information I needed to learn.” Natalie
noticed a few of the women’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, so she
explained, “Things like how to spell and write properly, what all
of the states in America are, and how to be a good citizen.”
Janet shook her head in sympathy. “You didn’t
read any actual stories that were only for entertainment?”
“There were a few short stories that ran a
paragraph or two long,” Natalie began, already knowing this answer
wasn’t going to please them. “They were to help us learn proper
grammar.”
“Oh dear,” Janet said. “So
you haven’t read Little
Women?”
Natalie shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“I didn’t know it was a book.”
Janet’s eyes grew wide. “You didn’t?”
Wishing everyone wasn’t watching her, Natalie
shook her head then lowered her gaze to the cup. If only they would
go back to talking about the books they all liked to read instead
of worrying about what she hadn’t read, she’d feel immensely better
right now.
“I’ll buy you a copy,” Janet said. “You’ll
like it.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Fran
commented. “The book might be above her level of comprehension.”
She glanced at Natalie. “How long did you attend school?”
“I went to the schoolhouse until I was
twelve,” Natalie replied.
“Only twelve?” Rosalyn asked, eyes wide in
horror.
“I was needed to help on the farm,” Natalie
replied, not knowing why she felt the need to defend herself. It
wasn’t like she had done anything wrong. Most of the children
didn’t go beyond that where she’d grown up.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Janet whispered. “No
one should grow up with so little education.”
Natalie wasn’t sure how to respond, but as it
turned out, Margie returned, and, thankfully, Annabelle was with
her.
“Look who happened to be at the door when I
was passing by the entryway,” Margie said, a pleasant smile on her
face. “I told you Annabelle would soon be here.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Annabelle greeted as
she sat in a chair close to Natalie. “Sometimes I have to help my
mother.”
“We were discussing the different books we
enjoy reading,” Katherine told Annabelle. “Have you read anything
good lately?”
Annabelle sat back in her chair and shook her
head. “I don’t have time to read.”
“You’re kidding,” Fran spoke up. “Surely, you
must read something.”
“If I read, it has to do with the proper
running of a business,” Annabelle said. “I like helping my mother
out.” She glanced at Natalie. “My father and brother might do the
work, but my mother orders the things they need, draws up the
contracts with clients, and manages the finances.”
“She does all of that?” Margie asked, looking
impressed.
“It’s not something we often tell others,”
Annabelle replied. “My father and Mark would rather focus on the
designs and meeting clients. My mother and I stay in the background
and stay quiet. I don’t think most men would understand women
taking a big role in a company.”
“You’re probably right,” Margie said. “What a
shame, though. I find it intriguing when a woman does something a
man typically does. I don’t have the skills you or your mother do,
but I have a lot of respect for women who do.”
“Yes, it is admirable,” Fran agreed.
“Sometimes I envy you.”
The others agreed, and Natalie had to resist
the urge to sink deeper into her chair. She was the only one in
this room who didn’t belong here. Everyone else got along so well.
Even Margie, who was new, got along with them. Everyone liked her,
just as they liked Annabelle. Annabelle might not feel comfortable
with them, but she was definitely a part of the group. Forcing back
her tears, Natalie focused on drinking her tea.
***
That night, Mark thrust deeper into Natalie.
They had made love almost every night since getting married. It was
a nice way to end the day. It made her feel closer to him, and it
was a pleasurable experience. Usually, she’d be as excited as he
was to be intimate in bed, but her mind just wasn’t into this
particular activity tonight.
Her thoughts kept drifting
to the women in that stupid social group. She didn’t want to dwell
on the way Fran, Katherine, and a couple other women often
whispered and giggled as they glanced over in her direction. She
couldn’t verify that they were making fun of her. They could have
been laughing at anything. But, deep down, she had a horrible
feeling they were laughing at her. They found her inadequate. She wasn’t one of
them. She didn’t belong in their social circle, and she doubted she
ever would.
Mark brought his mouth to hers and kissed
her. There was no denying the urgency in his kiss. He was nearing
his climax. She could tell it by the way his thrusting grew more
insistent. He kissed her cheek and then her neck.
“I love you, Natalie,” he whispered, his
voice ragged.
She tried to concentrate on him and what they
were doing, but that was easier said then done. No matter how much
she tried, she kept seeing their faces, either pitying or laughing
at her.
Mark grew still and groaned as he filled her
with his seed. She pressed her cheek against his, and struggled,
once more, to bring her focus back to him. He loved her. That was
what mattered. It didn’t matter if Fran, Katherine, and the others
didn’t like her. They weren’t the ones she had to impress.
Except, that wasn’t true. She did have to
impress them. They were a part of Mark’s world. If she failed to
please them, then it could affect the way Mark’s clients thought of
him. She was Mark’s wife. She was an extension of him. When people
dealt with her, they thought of him. Those women had men in their
lives with influence. If they started telling their fathers,
husbands, or brothers that they didn’t like Natalie, that might
change the way those men thought about Mark.
The last thing she wanted to do was hurt
Mark’s reputation just because she wasn’t sophisticated enough to
fit in with the affluent society in Omaha. It was so easy to fit in
with the kind of people she’d grown up with. None of them cared if
a hat blew off her head in public, if she was afraid of an
elevator, if she couldn’t dance right, if she hadn’t read a
particular book, or if she didn’t know how to properly handle a
teacup.
Mark gave her another kiss and then rolled
off of her. He brought his mouth back to hers, and when he brought
his hand to the patch of curls between her legs, she realized he
intended to bring her to completion. But she just wasn’t in the
mood tonight.
She took his hand and brought it up to her
chest. When he stopped kissing her, she explained, “You don’t need
to do that. I’m already satisfied.”
“Oh.” Mark shifted so that he was lying on
his back. He drew her into his arms, and she settled her head on
his shoulder. “I didn’t realize you’d climaxed earlier.”
She hadn’t. Nor could she when her mind was
preoccupied on other things. But she didn’t want to tell him that.
For some reason, it seemed better to keep that to herself, just as
she didn’t want to explain what a horrible failure she was around
affluent women.
After a couple of minutes of rubbing her
back, he asked, “Is something bothering you?”
“I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Oh, that’s right. You had that tea luncheon
at Mrs. Gordon’s today. How did it go?”
“It went fine,” she forced out.
“I saw Annabelle on my way home, and she said
you two had a good conversation afterwards.”
“Yes, we did.” That was the only saving grace
to the entire afternoon. Had it not been for Annabelle, she didn’t
know if she would have managed through the day as well as she
had.
“She also said there’s going to be another
tea party on Saturday.”
“Yes.” And she was already dreading it.
“I told you that everyone would like you.” He
kissed the top of her head. “Now you know why I had to snag you
before some other man did. It’s a good thing you stayed out at
Uncle Owen’s. I wouldn’t have wanted to compete with other men for
your hand. You would have had them lining up to get a chance to
talk to you.”
She rolled her eyes. It was nice that he
assumed she was so popular, but it just wasn’t true. Plenty of
people had no trouble bypassing her, especially in Omaha.
“I talked to Annabelle about Kenneth,” Mark
said after a long moment of silence passed between them.
Her mind taken off of her troubles for a
moment, she lifted her head so she could look at him. “What did you
say?”
“I told her the truth. I told her I didn’t
want her to marry him.”
“And?”
“And she took it just like I thought she
would. She asked me for proof, and when I couldn’t give it, she
assumed it was because I want her and Ben to end up together.”
She bit her lower lip. Maybe she should say
something to her. “Do you think it would help if I asked her not to
marry him?”
“Unless you know something horrible he’s
done, no. Like I said, Annabelle needs something concrete. She
doesn’t do things based on emotion. She needs to see something to
believe it. She’s a lot like my mother that way.”
Natalie settled her head back on his shoulder
and closed her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know
what to do about Annabelle, and she certainly didn’t know what to
do about her own situation.
As she drifted off to sleep, she suddenly
realized she knew Velma. Velma had grown up in an affluent society.
She was used to women like Fran and Katherine. She’d also offered
to help Natalie if she needed it. Perhaps, it was time to take her
up on her offer.