Page 2 of Leather and Lace
For it was not just one strike against Mary, but two. Yes, she was pregnant, and yes, she much preferred the gentle touch of women to the company of a man. Marriage or not, she would have damned the entire thing if she were able to, but there was no escaping her mother, not when her place at Sarah James’s side was all she knew.
She hated it.
Mary turned to look at herself in the mirror and her resolve for perfection wavered. Her bottom lip quivered, and Mary lost her play at perfection. She burst into tears, arms wrapped around herself as she shook with sobs in the small room that was not hers, in the town she did not belong and in a life that she did not want.
Chapter 2
“Whatever is the matter with you? Please, do keep up, we haven’t the time for your dilly-dallying, Mary.” Sarah James’s stern voice cut through Mary’s pounding headache.
The pair were out on their daily walk about town, and Mary had been struggling to see through the blinding pain at her temples. It was difficult to keep up with her mother’s brisk walk in the best of times, let alone when she was having difficulty walking in a straight line.
“I’m sorry, Mama. It’s just that my head--”
“Stop dawdling, Mary Sophia.” Her mother’s tight grip tugged at her elbow and pulled her forward to match her step. “I heard there was a new batch of bankers and investors coming to town on account of Julian Baptiste’s efforts with the railroad depot. If we make it to the cafe then we have a good chance at catching their eye.”
Mary frowned, still rubbing at her temples. “What do you mean ‘we’?”
Sarah James let out a titter of laughter and turned to give Mary what she supposed was her mother’s attempt at coquettish. “Well, two arrows are better than one, now aren’t they dear?”
“Are you saying that you are intending on finding yourself a suitor?” Mary drew up to her full height despite the pain she suffered. “Are you aiming to marry again?”
“Keep your voice down! Good god, you would think I had never spent the money to send you to finishing school, screeching like a fish wife!” Her mother berated her at a volume far more at home in a saloon at midnight than on the town’s main avenue at midday.
Mary glanced about furtively and stifled her groan at seeing the attention they were attracting. Her mother’s near shouting was doing wonders at making them stand out in Gold Sky. She didn’t estimate it was quite in the way her mother wished for them to gain attention.
“Now come along and do walk with your back straight. Remember your lessons on posture and grace for heaven’s sake, Mary Sophia.”
“Yes, Mama,” Mary replied automatically. So oft had she said the words that her response fell from her lips with little thought. And for her part, Sarah James, so used to having her wishes fulfilled by her daughter, did not think twice at the barely there response.
“Now then, pinch your cheeks and I wish you had thought to apply a bit of rouge. You look so pale in the daylight. We simply must get you in the sun at more regular times.”
At that Mary found her tongue. “I love the sun, but you say it causes freckles.”
Sarah James clucked her teeth and nodded in agreement. “Right you are, right you are. The sun is no place for a woman like you.”
Mary would have scoffed if her headache hadn’t redoubled its efforts to lay her low. There would be no scoffing, not when she was nearly blinded by her pain and the sun overhead. Instead, Mary hurried along behind her mother, and before long the cafe her mother spoke of came into sight. She breathed a sigh of relief when her mother slowed her pace and let go of her arm.
“There it is. Lily’s Cafe, or some such. It apparently has decent food, unlike the establishment we were turned out of, like common riffraff,” her mother gave an indignant sniff. Mary bit back the remark about their behavior, her mother’s in particular towards Julian Baptiste’s new bride. The cook had been nothing but efficient, her meals tasty, and she’d always had a smile for her when her mother’s back was turned.
Mary’s cheeks burned with shame thinking on how she had kept her mouth shut when she should have spoken out. Of how she had followed her mother’s lead in attitude and decorum towards the other woman. It was hard to remember who she was when her mother’s hand was so tight on her neck. It was as if the older woman’s grip tightened as surely as Mary’s corset and stays did with each and every day of growth.
A hand strayed to her belly and she sighed when it growled. She was hungry, no doubt due to her morning sickness. If she were lucky her mother would allow her the time to eat...maybe if she did manage to catch a man’s eye, then she would be invited to lunch with him? The thought perked her up and she lifted her head to see that her mother’s keen eyes were, for once, not on her.
Now her mother’s emerald gaze was trained on a far bigger prize than Mary.
“Bankers,” her mother breathed, hands practically rubbing together in anticipation, “and lots of them. Come close, and quick Mary. We will have to pick out the one for you.”
“I don’t feel well, mother,” Mary said but her daughter’s protestations fell on deaf ears, Sarah James waving a hand at her.
“Pish. Stand up straight and smile, dear. Men like a woman who smiles.”
Mary clenched her jaw tight. She didn’t trust herself to keep her mouth shut without the extra effort and fortunately, her mother mistook it for smiling.
“Now, then, that one looks quite good. He’s young. That means he won’t understand what’shappeninguntil it’s too late.”
The happening was the baby. The baby that Mary wanted. She had begun to tire of hearing of her child in the abstract, or as a thing---or even worse, a problem.
“It’s a child, mother. Not a ‘happening’,” Mary blurted out before she thought better of it. She clapped a hand over her mouth with a muffled gasp once she realized what she’d done. The words fell fat and heavy in the dirt between them with a nearly audible thud. Mary blinked and watched as her mother slowly turned to her, the older woman’s face was nearly red with frustration.
