by Denise Eagan
“Star!” Morgan said turning to her daughter. “Oh you didn’t—”
“Excuse me, Morgan, Miz Montgomery,” Nick said. While Morgan scolded her daughter, he moved swiftly to the stairs, taking them two at a time to reach the questionable sanctuary of his borrowed room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
“Star,” Morgan said as she closed the parlor door and leaned against it, “what did you do to that man? He’s soaked!”
Her mother’s words barely registered as Star strode into the room and seated herself on the sofa. Her body was still recovering from the kiss; her mind whirled with the implications. Nicholas was not indifferent to her. “Why nothing of import, Mother,” she replied casually.
“You didn’t push him in?” she asked hopefully, as she settled into a chair next to Star. “I should hope you’ve got better manners than that.”
Star smiled at her mother, who sat with her back stiff and straight. It was a pose she used in company, or when she meant to lecture her children. The latter she did rarely and with great reluctance because, for all that she kept up appearances, Mother secretly despised structure, manners and, well, appearances.
“Why, it does seem that I may lack those manners, Mother,” Star said, “for you may blame Nicholas’s condition on me. I assure you, however, that I acted upon extreme provocation! He not only had the bad grace to crow about beating me in the race, but afterwards claimed that he had allowed me to win at chess. Naturally, I gave him a little push. I cannot be faulted because he tripped and fell into the water.”
Mother’s eyes sparkled and her mouth twitched slightly. Then she pursed her lips in her best Good Mother imitation. “A lady does not risk drowning her escort, Star, you know that,” she replied in her best lecturing tone, but could not keep laughter from tingeing her words.
“I did not drown him. It was only two feet of water. To be sure, he confessed afterward that he said it purely as provocation, for I did beat him at chess fair and square! So you see, your daughter is still the champion. Congratulate me!”
“I shan’t,” Mother replied maintaining firm control over her facial muscles although the sparkle in her eyes grew, reluctant testimony to her amusement. “And you shall not distract me with gaiety either. It is past time for us to discuss your behavior toward Nicholas. I must own that I have been more than a trifle concerned about it for these many months. I have, however, refrained from making mention of it, assuming you would follow a better tack with him as our guest.”
Uh oh.
“He is not just an acquaintance, my dear, or an associate as your former beaus have been. He is our friend. You comprehend the difference?”
“I do, but Nicholas is no beau of mind, Mother. He holds me at a distance.”
“Not far enough,” she said wryly, “if you were near enough to push him into the Charles.”
Star laughed. “Oh Mother,” she said warmly, “we must be such a trial for you! You try so much to keep us all in order, but you’re no better than your children are and you know it! Had you been there, you’d have shoved him, too.”
“I would not—”
“Shall I bring up your past?”
Mother had the good grace to flush at that, but not in a joyful manner. Her face tightened and the gleam left her eyes. Oh no she’d gone too far. She was really in for it now!
“I apprehend full well that I was remarkably unsteady as a girl. I plunged both your father and myself into a great deal of scandal. It took us many years and much struggle to overcome it. We expect you to behave more sensibly. I shall give you credit, Star, that in spite of your six fiancés, you do toe the line. Barely, but you toe it. Nicholas, however, is a different matter. As a man of the West, he is no doubt quite capable of dealing with the perils of the wilderness, but he’s not accustomed to women of your breeding.”
“Oh? How might women like me differ from Western women?”
“Do not play the fool with me, Virginia. You know quite well the differences. You are a flirt of the first order. As admirable as is your work and your enviable ability to compete with men on many different playing fields—you know how proud I am of that!—you are notoriously unstable when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Star controlled the urge to squirm under her mother’s harsh scrutiny. “I did like all of my fiancés, Mother. I even loved one or two.”
“You had no intention—ever—of marrying them.”
“Why no, of course not, but if they were too stupid—”
“Then they deserved it. I wholly comprehend your reasoning. You may recollect that I never spoke a word of censure to you. Nicholas, however, did not grow up with you. He may not understand society women and the games they play. It seems to me that courtship out West is for purposes of marriage, not for enjoyment, and therefore I’m requesting—strongly for you know I could never order you—that you not use him in that manner. He’s a good man, Star. I don’t wish to see his heart broken.”
“Mother, his heart must be engaged for it to break, and he deems me but a friend, nothing more. I’ve shown you his letters. He never so much as hinted at a romantic interest in me.”
“No, but,” Mother started. Then she stopped and stared down at her hands as if searching for the correct words. Star, while waiting, took a quick trip back in time, exploring her many love affairs. Had she really broken hearts? She’d not thought so. She doubted any of fiancés had ever really loved her, for they scarcely knew her. Although they must know of her dedication to the movement, she’d rarely shared her obsession with Female Equality with them, which was at the core of her very being. One did not discuss such things when one was bent upon seduction. She had, however, shared those thoughts with Nicholas. It proved her point, for he’d been the least responsive of all.
Or so she’d thought until today. Until he’d kissed her. Even after her abominable display of temper. Even after she’d made every attempt to out-row him. Even when she was sweaty and mud-stained. He had kissed her, willingly and without prompting.
“Star, honey,” her mother finally said, and Star’s eyes focused upon her again. Her mother’s brow was creased, and a weariness that one rarely saw in Mother peered out of her eyes. “I do wish you’d reconsider your prohibition to marriage. It’s not quite the monster you’ve made it out to be. It has quite a few advantages, especially for a woman of your nature.”
“Mother,” she said feeling the hackles rise on her back. “You know why I cannot.”
“I understand your feelings on the subject.” She leaned forward to touch Star’s hand. Had Star not known her mother, she’d have sworn she marked unshed tears in her eyes. “But your guilt is misguided, honey. Minnie would not wish—”
That old pain buried deep in her heart resurfaced. “It is more than just that, Mother,” she snapped.
Mother’s shoulders fell and she sighed. Shaking her head, she leaned back again. “Even Lucy Stone married, Star. She and Mr. Blackwell have been quite happy together.”
“There’s only one Henry Blackwell. Recollect that Henry’s sister is the first female physician in the country. He understands women as a separate entity from men. Few others do.”
Mother sighed again. “At least promise me that you’ll mull it over.”
“I vow to give it all the deliberation it deserves.”
Mother shook her head, but she smiled. “You’re as stubborn as your father. Ah well, then I must place my faith in Nicholas if I cannot prevail upon you. Were he a younger man, I should worry more. For today, however, we’ve got plans to discuss. I’ve received a letter just this morning from your Aunt Fran. The Huntingtons, Del and Jane included, are on their way for a visit. The Hathaways have decided this is an especial occasion and wish to throw a ball in honor of it, and for,” she chuckled, “our ‘Esteemed Guest’. I’m quite sure Nicholas will find that amusing.”
“He�
��ll laugh.”
Mother’s eyes twinkled. “That’s what I mean. At any rate, they’ve requested that we provide them with some dates for the occasion. If you would fetch your calendar, please?”
“Why of course! Give me an half hour, first, so I may change?”
“I’ll send for tea.”
Star walked slowly to her room. Free of Mother’s lecturing, her mind returned to that kiss. Yes, Nicholas might respond to seduction after all. But this time she would tread lighter. Instead of taking the lead in this seduction, she would entice him into taking action. The kiss had proven he would, under certain circumstances. She merely needed to create those circumstances.
By the time she entered her room, she was all but whistling. Margaret, laying out Star’s clothes, turned when she heard her. “Oh Miss,” she said, taking in her appearance with an exasperated sigh. “What have you been into now?”
“The Charles River. A slight accident. Oh, you’ve laid out my green poplin. It is my new favorite dress. Thank you so much! Here, help me out of this will you? What’s that?” she asked as she stood in front of the mirror, pulling her hat and hatpins from her hair. She nodded to an oblong, paper-wrapped package on her bedside table.
“A package come for you this morning.”
“How splendid! Give it here.”
“Not until you’re out of these clothes, Miss,” Margaret said severely. “You shan’t sit on the bed in all your mud. Aunt Maeve would have my head if I let you, you know that.”
“Oh she would not!” Star said, but held steady, allowing Margaret to help her out of her dirty rowing gown. “She has doted on me my whole life.”
“It’s my head she’ll take,” she said as she unbuttoned the gown. “She gave me a regular scolding yesterday, miss, on how if I was to be a good lady’s maid, I must stand up to you now and then.”
“By using guilt, I apprehend, as Maeve has always done with Mother,” she said stepping out of the dress. “At any rate, I am clean enough to sit on the bed now.” She sat down and pulled the package into her lap. It was heavy, with the three-sided indent of a book. She tore the paper, and then frowned. It was an old book. Worn black leather, gold embossed. The Holy Bible.
Confused, Star look at the ripped paper. It had only her address on it, no other. How odd. She opened the book. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a charcoal rose carefully drawn on the first page, under the printed title.
A Bible. Oh good God, he’d sent her a Bible.
“What is it miss? Oh, a Bible. Why how thoughtful! Who would—but it’s old, isn’t it?”
“Romeo.”
“Romeo? Your secret admirer? What a strange thing to send.”
“Yes,” she said turning a page. A folded piece of paper. Hand trembling, she opened it.
My dearest Virginia,
You have not, as I have requested, ceased you association with the harridans of this movement, with their dangerous teachings. I have recently learned that, contrary to all my warnings, you have increased your activities, and are now scheduled to speak in Saratoga Springs at yet another abomination of a rally.
My dearest innocent Virginia, you must know how perverted all of these activities are. I’ve finally realized, however, that surrounded as you are by people who have no care for you immortal soul, it is up to me to render further proof of the wickedness surrounding these people, both your family and friends. I have, therefore, sacrificed my Holy Bible for your reading. Although all of it, of course, implies what I have said these many months, I’ve marked the specific lines and verses so that you shall see the errors of these ways and cease them, before your womanly innocence is destroyed. Read it with care, my love, and do me the greatest honor by canceling this engagement, for I have no true wish to end it for you.
I shall be watching you,
Romeo
Was that underline an attempt at sarcasm? Anger and nervousness battled for control in her chest, her stomach. How dare he, how dare he insult her family and friends.
End it for you. What did he mean by that? Nothing—nothing violent. No, that was ridiculous. Besides, what could he do that was worse than had been done at many speeches? Rotten fruit, yelling, the occasional arrest—
“Miss Star?”
Star raised her head to see Margaret holding her dress, watching her warily. “It’s a letter,” Star said. “He put it inside the book.”
“You look upset.”
Or try something else, she heard again, Nicholas’s words spoken just a short time ago. He’d known this was coming. But this . . . this wasn’t so very threatening, was it? One could scarcely call the Bible threatening in comparison to Horatio’s actions against Minnie. Not even in comparison to the danger-by-inaction of Minnie’s doctor.
And Star.
“The rowing this morning was strenuous,” Star said absentmindedly as she flipped through the marked sections. The most hated quote of all, Ephesians 5:22-23. Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the savior of the body.
Too many husbands, as Lucretia Mott had pointed out over the years, forgot the latter half, or ignored the rest of the chapter altogether. Almost all ignored the fact that it had been written for a different time, before advances in science had changed society and women’s roles.
She flipped again and fell upon the most heavily marked passage of all. 1Timothy, 2:11-12. Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.
Her chest started to burn. He meant to silence her, prevent her from demanding action and laws and female representation for all the women whose husbands did not love their wives as they loved themselves, but beat them instead.
A knock on the door.
“Star?” Mother.
“Come in.”
“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” Mother said, entering. She closed the door and halted, her eyebrows coming together. “What is it?”
“A package,” Star answered. “From Romeo. A . . . a Bible.”
“A Bible,” Mother said, irritation sharpening her voice as it always did when referring to her secret admirer. “Whatever for?” She crossed the room and took up the letter. Then she flipped through the Bible. Star watched her mother’s eyes blacken as she read the marked passages. Anger creased her face. “How dare he!” she snapped when she finished.
Star smiled, the anxiety easing with the shared outrage. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“These men,” Mother said, through gritted teeth, “who use the Bible against women ought to be prosecuted for fraud.”
“If only I could have been a lawyer for you, Mother.”
Mother lifted her eyes from the book and gave Star a tight smile. “Is that not part of what you’re fighting for?”
“Eventually, yes, but first we must have a vote in making the laws. At any rate, Romeo is not particularly unique in this. Those passages have been quoted over and over again.”
“Not to me they haven’t!”
Star laughed. “No one would dare, Mother.”
She scowled, but the anger lightened in her eyes. “That is merely because I’ve never followed your line of work. It was not an option for me. Well,” she said looking at the letter again. “We shall certainly not allow this to deter you. One does not bow to tyranny!”
“No,” Star said, “not a Montgomery, at least.”
“Nor,” Mother said, “a Turner. Not for long, in all events,” she said as long-ago pain flickered in her eyes. Star’s heart stung for a moment. Mother, like Minnie, had once faced a tyrannical husband, which had been Star’s initial reason for joining the movement. Mother, however, far from resorting to suicide, had fought back against tyranny. With disastrous results.
“Finish dressing then,” Mother said, nodding to Margaret, “and we shall continue planning for th
e Hathaways’ ball. I see no reason to ring your father just now. We shall bring it to his attention this evening.”
“Father? Whatever for?” Star asked, her shoulders tightening.
“He’ll must know of this, Star. It’s a threat.”
“But what could Romeo possibly to do prevent the rally that others have not already attempted?”
“I don’t know, but it’s imprudent not to consider all aspects. Your father shall know how to act.”
“But there’s no need to act!”
“Fear not,” she said gently, laying a hand on Star’s shoulder. “He shan’t force you to cancel your engagement. It is unwise, however, to withhold information from him.”
On his own, Father probably would not compel her withdrawal from the rally, but Star remembered too well the concern in Nicholas’s eyes. He and Father had developed a strong rapport, and when men came together in thought, even the best of men too often turned that thought against any woman in question.
“All right,” she hedged, “but we can discuss it in private, correct? Nicholas need not know of this. It’s a family matter.”
Morgan frowned at her warily as Star fought to keep her fears from her face—easier to hide from Mother than from Father. “I can see no reason to keep it from him,” Mother said guardedly, “but none as well to tell him.”
“He doesn’t appreciate my work. I am trying to sway him, you know, for the more men on our side, the sooner we shall prevail. It makes no sense to provide him with additional arguments against us.”
Mother shook her head. “You underestimate Nicholas’s intelligence and knowledge. He’ll learn and analyze all the arguments before he makes up his mind. If you wish to keep this from him, however, I shall honor your wish. It would be rude, at any rate, to worry our guest unnecessarily.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A very merry, dancing, drinking
Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time
John Dryden,The Secular Masque