by Jenean McBrearty<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/strong><\/p>\n \nRachel watched the skinny-dippers with sad eyes though her eyes were smiling, pained that they were free. they had more than written rights. these American with their loud laughter and wonton mindlessness. Their clothes were patriotic\u2014everything red, white and blue\u2014even their racing silks sported stars with the stripes. The women couldn\u2019t find Germany on the map. None of them played the piano with any skill. So how could Rachel expect them to understand the dancing the politicians on the continent were doing?<\/p>\n \u201cWho are they,\u201d she asked Hugh at the Mannerly Estate garden party. Everyone was admiring the magnolias Hugh\u2019s mother and sisters had imported from Georgia to make them feel at home. Corpulent white fleshy flowers with leaves that were too green.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019ve come over from Brighton. They look different with their clothes on.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGod help us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe young one fawning over the flowers is Harriet Underwood from Atlanta. Yes, it\u2019s hard to believe, but she was educated in Chicago. She\u2019s not really a Southern aristocrat. Her companion is Edward Benchly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s handsome in a pretty way. Are they engaged?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOnly in pretending they\u2019re indifferent to civilized expectations.\u201d<\/p>\n The waiter brought them white wine in glasses as transparent as Rachel\u2019s questions. \u201cDo you think the Underwood\u2019s owned slaves?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe other couple are Harriet cousin\u2019s, Sara, and her businessman husband Carl Redmond,\u201d Hugh said. \u201cSo cut your outrage in half, my girl. They have money.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachel moved on to conversations waiting for her in a group of ladies in flowered frocks. Men couldn\u2019t appreciate the sacrifices women had to make to affect respectability. Eventually, she tired of the talk about how prettily Charmane, Hughes\u2019 youngest sister, had decorated, and moved to the terrace overlooking the prettiness.<\/p>\n She caught a whiff of a briar pipe, and turned to see Carl Redmond standing four feet to her left, watching her watch the soir\u00e9e. \u201cYou needn\u2019t skulk, Mr. Redmond. Hugh told me your name, if you\u2019re curious.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI am curious, but not about that. I\u2019m wondering if you\u2019ve ever been drunk, swam naked, or cheated on your husband.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. No. And does not apply. I\u2019m not married.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe first two answers explains the last. Do you have any questions for me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot really.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen I\u2019ll answer yes, yes, and yes, often.\u201d He turned to go.<\/p>\n \u201cWait. I do have a question. What are you doing in England? Holiday? Business?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBoth. Always. Americans are always on the lookout for opportunities especially on holidays. Or garden party chance meetings.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is your business?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy father\u2019s in munitions. He\u2019d have come himself , but he doesn\u2019t walk too well. He lost a leg at Gettysburg. He made a lot of money, however, so he says he did right by the South and was rewarded handsomely by the North. It should be the same when England and Germany tangle.\u201d<\/p>\n Harriet and Sara may be oblivious to the European unrest, but Carl Redmond was acutely aware. \u201cWhat side will you be on?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe winning side. My side.\u201d<\/p>\n ****<\/p>\n \u201cRedmond\u2019s an opportunist. A scoundrel,\u201d she told Hugh. They were resting their horses after an exhilarating canter, and were sitting by a noisy stream.<\/p>\n \u201cYou like him that much, hunh? Interesting.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be absurd.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on Rachel, you love scoundrels. You\u2019re still in love with Captain Huff-puff.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHeffington, Hugh, and don\u2019t jest about soldiers. He could be wounded in India. Maybe lose a leg or something.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI doubt that. Sgt. Norris takes good care of him, I hear.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, shut up. You\u2019re a cruel gossip.\u201d<\/p>\n They returned to Mannerly House in time for tea, and Rachel was grateful. She\u2019d skipped lunch so she could read the newspapers just delivered from London without interruption, she told herself. The truth was, she wanted to avoid the American women. Now they waved to her when she strode into the living room. \u201cCome sit with us,\u201d Sara said, and steered her towards the two settees perpendicular to the fireplace, separated by a white wood coffee table. \u201cI wish you would have let Carl ride with you and Hugh. He would\u2019ve love to have seen the countryside.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe next time,\u201d Rachel said, and gobbled her biscuits as ladylike as she could manage. It was a rude thing to say given that the week-end was almost over.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m thankful you didn\u2019t invite me. All that champagne at dinner. What a head I have.\u201d Then Harriet leaned over and whispered, \u201cWhat do you know about Count Seifert von Shoenberg.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHugh\u2019s German friend from Cambridge. The Mannerlys and the Shoenbergs are related by marriage. Not unlike the Kaiser.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHugh\u2019s related to the Kaiser?\u201d Harriet said.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, the Kaiser\u2019s related to the Royal family. But there are many English families who are related to German families in some way or another.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh. That\u2019s interesting.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCould get sticky,\u201d Rachel said, astounded at her ignorance.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s dashingly handsome. Where did he get that scar on his cheek?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a dueling scar. He belongs to a University society. He\u2019s a pilot too.\u201d The look that Harriet shot Sara told Rachel that it was Sara who was really asking the questions. A flirtation with Carl suddenly became more agreeable now that it seemed so permissible. \u201cWe\u2019ll all have to meet up in London. I promise to get Carl on a horse before you sail back to America.\u201d<\/p>\n ****<\/p>\n Rachel chose to wear her rose-colored gauze and lace gown to dinner, and a delicate rose-gold necklace that matched her bracelet. It was George Heffington\u2019s favorite ensemble. It made her look angelic, he\u2019d said months ago. Perhaps Carl Redmond would feel the same way and ignore Sara admiring Count Shoenberg . Staring at her from the open jewelry case was the locket George had given her the night they\u2019d announced their engagement. Inside the heart-shaped casket were their pictures, facing each other as privately as in a marriage bed. Hugh had been ruthlessly accurate in concluding she still had feelings for Heffington\u2014who\u2019d been a gentleman despite what people twittered about the situation with Lloyd Norris.<\/p>\n She brushed her hair upwards and secured it with a cloisonn\u00e9 clip, pulling wisps from its clutches to soften her face. Tonight she\u2019d smile at everyone, even the American women. The mood would be somber, of course, given the continued tensions in the Balkans, but ladies owed it to good company to be elegant and composed in the face of adversity. It was a role she\u2019d practiced well.<\/p>\n She descended the staircase in house as silent as a crypt. The women were alone in the living room, speaking in low voices about cancelling social engagements and vacations in Italy. Harriet and Sara were sitting close together on the settee; Hugh\u2019s mother was poring over a newspaper, Hugh\u2019s three sisters draped around her like a shawl. Like Rachel, they were wearing their summer finery of pastels and prints that reflected the flowers that graced the tables. They looked up when she entered. Hugh\u2019s mother smiled a welcome, then sobered. \u201cWe\u2019ve just found out about Archduke Ferdinand and Duchess Sophie…\u201d<\/p>\n Her eldest daughter, Constance finished her sentence. \u201cThey\u2019ve been assassinated in Sarajevo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCarl says there\u2019s going to be a war,\u201d Sara offered. Harriet put a protective arm around here shoulder.<\/p>\n Rachel joined them on the sofa. \u201cWell, there\u2019s nothing we can do about it tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachel\u2019s right,\u201d Hugh\u2019s mother said. She folded the newspaper neatly. \u201cTell my son we\u2019re starving, May,\u201d she directed to a middle-aged maid who\u2019d come in with a tray of crystal glasses of sherry.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll send Robert to them, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n Seconds later, the men filed into the living room, all of them apologetic except the taciturn Carl. Rachel thought it odd that they stayed so close to the women after that\u2014as if they were guarding them. Harriet and Edward held hands as they walked to the dining room. When she took Hugh\u2019s arm, he wrapped his hand firmly around hers. Flirtings would have to cease, it seemed. Between the men and the women, and between people and life. Everyone appeared desperate, as though fortifying themselves, laying up stores of love and strength.<\/p>\n Except Carl. He let Sara cling to him, but he didn\u2019t look at her. Once seated at the table, his eyes roamed the faces of his dinner companions like a man choosing a horse to bet on at a race. When his eyes landed on Rachel\u2019s, she stared back, and he gave her the barest hint of a sardonic grin before moving on.<\/p>\n It was that slightest of grins that caused her to follow him outside as the others discussed train timetables and return trips home. He\u2019d lit his pipe and was sitting at a patio table. She walked passed him to the railing, looking at the tree shadows on the lawn.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you wear that lovely dress for Hugh?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachel folded her arms across her chest and turned to him. \u201cI wore it because I think it\u2019s lovely too. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHugh\u2019s in love with you, and is going to propose.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNonsense.\u201d<\/p>\n He shrugged. \u201cAlright. Don\u2019t believe me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid he tell you that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShoenberg told me when I asked him why he wasn\u2019t chasing a beautiful bird of prey. He\u2019s been doing everything but standing on his head to get your attention.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, you\u2019re wrong about that. His acrobatics aren\u2019t meant to impress me, but a beautiful caged bird.\u201d<\/p>\n Carl\u2019s silent contemplation of her words lasted only a second. \u201cWill you accept Hugh?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachel went to the table and sat down. \u201cI\u2019ll have to think about it. I\u2019m glad you warned me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn that case, let me warn you about something else. Something you\u2019ll believe because you\u2019ve been through a war of sorts. But the rest of them\u2014never.\u201d He leaned back in his chair, his body was stiff as a corpse in a coffin. Only his was face lit by moonlight, his words spoken as if from a pulpit.<\/p>\n \u201cBefore I left Atlanta, my daddy told me it would be tough doing business with foreigners. They never pay America any attention, much less respect. but that\u2019ll change after they fight their war.\u201d<\/p>\n She looked into his ghostly face and shivered.<\/p>\n \u201cThey don\u2019t know what modern weapons can do. I wouldn\u2019t know either except I\u2019ve seen Brady\u2019s pictures of the battlefields, of the stacks of severed limbs outside a field hospital. Thousands of men losing arms and legs, eyes and faces blown to bits by metal shards. Tonight I sold hell\u2019s weapons to gentlemen who will be shocked at their destruction. It\u2019s terrible because the world needs gentlemen. Just ask my daddy, who bound up his stump with his bright gold sash so he wouldn\u2019t bleed to death.\u201d<\/p>\n Carl stood up, a glistening dew drop rolling down his clean-shaven cheek, and offered Rachel his hand. She took it, letting herself be pulled up, letting him raise her hand to his lips, and then let it drop to her side.<\/p>\n \u201cAccept him, Miss Rachel. He\u2019ll need a lady like you to come home to. If he comes home.\u201d And Carl Redmond walked into the warm glow of the living room where people lounged on a precipice, having their after-dinner brandy as Sara badly played Fur Elise on the piano while Count Shoenberg turned the pages of her sheet music, while Rachel remained on the patio, thinking only of Captain Heffington.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Jenean McBrearty \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Rachel watched the skinny-dippers with sad eyes though her eyes were smiling, pained that they were free. they had more than written rights. these American with their loud laughter and wonton mindlessness. Their clothes were patriotic\u2014everything red, white and blue\u2014even their racing silks sported stars with the stripes. The […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1042,77],"tags":[1053,1123,1079],"class_list":["post-10534","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia42","category-english","tag-egophobia-42","tag-english","tag-jenean-mcbrearty"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-2JU","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10534","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10534"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10534\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10535,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10534\/revisions\/10535"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10534"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10534"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10534"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}