Given (8 page)

“No. I don't.”

“Hmm. Strange,” Grace said softly with a frown, as if considering something quite complex. “I would think that having someone press his mouth so hard to yours would be something you'd have full knowledge of.”

Mary Katherine grimaced and felt her cheeks heat. She threw her friend a chiding look, her lips twitching when the fiend had the nerve to look unflinchingly back at her. She had no doubt that Grace had seen Jacob and her kissing; she just didn't know when. Jacob had kissed her so often since that night in her house that Grace's sighting of them could have been any number of times. Mary Katherine had known that she was taking a risk every time she accepted and participated in his kisses, but well, she'd done it anyway. She liked it—a lot.

She was a thirty-year-old, unmarried woman who wasn't a widow, nor was she affianced. That alone was enough to get her the occasional raised eyebrow and sidelong look. Add to that the fact that she had the temerity to want to take care of herself by running a business. The result was a woman who couldn't make one wrong move without the possibility of a negative judgment from the town that could ultimately lead to financial ruin.

If word got out that she had been so wanton with Jacob, Mary Katherine knew it could spell disaster for her. She knew it and thought about it every time she saw him, but when he took her into his arms, she seemed to lose all her common sense. His kisses were like the most tempting morsels of chocolate, and chocolate was the one vice she allowed herself. Or at least it had been. Always honest with herself, she added Jacob to that list—a list that hadn't really existed before him. Not only that, but he was clearly first on that list, routing chocolate without even the hint of a battle.

She heard Grace delicately clear her throat and brought her thoughts back into focus. Her friend was looking expectantly at her, patiently awaiting her answer. Mary Katherine found herself unable to tell even Grace the truth. She directed her gaze to a painting behind Grace's head. “I don't know what you mean.”

“I see,” Grace said contemplatively. She stared at Mary Katherine for a few silent beats.

Fighting the desire to squirm under the penetrating gaze that was so much like Jacob's, Mary Katherine lifted her brow in inquiry.

Grace mimicked her motion, except she also cocked her head and twisted her mouth, as if asking,
Do you really think I'm going to fall for that?

Mary Katherine didn't blink.
That's my story, and I shan't waver from it.

Grace stared.

Mary Katherine stared and watched as, finally, disappointed resignation flickered across the other woman's face.
Stalemate.

Grace sighed before saying, “I saw that new gingham cloth you've got at your store. Is it very expensive? Papa is insisting I make myself a new dress.”

Mary Katherine's relief at the change of subject was well hidden as she smiled at Grace's shudder of disgust. “Whatever the cost, I'm sure your father will be willing to pay it, considering how much he prefers to see his only daughter in dresses rather than the inappropriate trousers you prefer.”

Grace shrugged, a frown on her face. “Trousers are less constricting. Any woman with a lick of sense would prefer them over all of those cumbersome skirts. And besides, you of all people should understand how I feel. My father's desires should not take precedence over my own, particularly as it's my life. But of course they do, and it's simply because he's male.”

Mary Katherine nodded. They'd had this discussion many times before. It was about more than being told what to wear; that was just one result of an unbalanced system. She and Grace both chafed at the bonds placed on them as women. Grace was under her father's protection, and it would not only be unusual, but also frowned upon if she took it in her head to leave his house without first getting married.

Her father could only be described as traditional in thinking when it came to how he saw women. In his mind, women were made for cooking, cleaning, raising children, and answering to the men in their lives, whether they were fathers, husbands, or brothers. For an independent woman like Grace, this was almost an untenable situation, and to make matters worse, she had the added burden of two brothers who also thought because they were men they could run her life.

Mary Katherine had sympathy for her and thanked God almost daily that she did not have such constraints. She ran her own life, and while that didn't mean she could do whatever she liked, it did mean that she had more independence than most women. Paradoxically, while she did not envy Grace her lifestyle, she could not help but envy her her family. Not a day went by that Mary Katherine didn't think about her parents, and she often found herself weeping out of sheer want of them.

Mary Katherine studied her friend. Like all the Adamses, Grace was tall, dark, and beautiful. Men were irresistibly drawn to her, and Mary Katherine knew that Mr. Adams had had many offers for her hand. Grace, of course, found even the idea of marriage revolting. Mary Katherine smiled. She couldn't blame her. “So,” she began, “why the sudden need for a new dress?”

Grace looked at her with serious eyes for a moment before saying, “I seem to become especially clumsy while wearing dresses, and most all that I own have met with unfortunate mishaps: a rip here, a stain there. Why, one even mysteriously got scorched—right in the middle of the skirt.” She blinked. “Of course, repairs are not an option.”

Mary Katherine looked doubtfully at the other woman, who was the least clumsy person she knew. In fact, her given name was amazingly apropos. “Grace, I can't believe that all of your dresses are in ru—”

Grace suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand, looking at her with wide, innocent eyes filled with apology. “You can't know how guilty I felt about the expense—”

“Oh, I'm sure I could,” Mary Katherine muttered wryly. She considered her friend in admiration.
My God, she should be onstage.

But Grace continued as if she hadn't said a word. “And I told Papa that I'd only be too happy to wear some of Matthew's old trousers, so as to save him the cost of new dresses.” Her eyes were still wide, and they still held regret.

Mary Katherine just looked at her before patting her hand. “I'm impressed. Does that look usually work on your father?”

Grace smiled without an ounce of guilt before pulling back. She pushed a wayward strand of hair back into her single braid. “Yes, it does,” she said with pride. “And it would have worked this time, t, too if that oafish lout Jacob hadn't come in and told Papa that it would be disgraceful to allow me to wear trousers and that I should just get new dresses, never mind the expense!”

Mary Katherine laughed out loud. “I take it your father agreed and wouldn't hear of your making such a sacrifice as wearing trousers.”

Grace's mouth twisted in disappointment. “I'm sitting here asking you about the blasted cost of gingham, aren't I? In fact, thanks to that interfering brother of mine, I'm to contribute to the cost with my own pocket money. I have to pay a quarter of the bill! Imagine! Not only am I being forced to conform, but I am being forced to pay for my own loss of individuality! Is that not intolerable?”

Mary Katherine, seeing how upset Grace was, bit her lip to keep herself from laughing even more. “Was your father terribly angry, then?”

Grace frowned. “Not so much angry as perplexed, as if he couldn't understand why, as a female, I do not, as he sees it, act like one.” She shrugged. “Perplexity is the expression you will most often see on my father's face when he's confronted with me. You might say that I am his own personal sphinx.”

There was a lot of pain behind that light statement, but Mary Katherine didn't comment on it. She'd learned not to press, because Grace never responded. Instead, before she thought about it, she said, “Any offers this week?” She immediately wanted to bite her tongue. Of course Grace knew about Jacob's proposing to her, and now she'd just opened up the subject of him again.
Muttonhead
, she silently scolded herself.

Grace grinned, causing Mary Katherine to blink. It was a rare occasion to see the intense young woman smile, and this grin was almost an exact replica of Jacob's. Mary Katherine gave her head a quick shake. She had to stop thinking about the man! She tuned in to what Grace was saying.

“No, none, thank God. I think Papa has just about had it with me and is ready to throw me to the first man who smiles pretty, completely discounting my feelings in the process. What about you?”

As single women considered well past marrying age, they found themselves almost inundated with proposals, especially Mary Katherine. She figured most of them came from men who were really just interested in her business, which they thought would automatically become theirs if they married her. Hoping Grace wouldn't bring up Jacob, she lied and said, “No, not a single one.”

“Oh, then I guess we've both been lucky. Last week when Jack Turner approached Papa, I thought life as I knew it was over, because Papa just loves Jack. Thank goodness he asked my opinion before giving him an answer, though.”

“Let me guess. You told him the same thing you always tell him: you can't bear to leave him and your brothers, because if you did, there wouldn't be a woman in the house to take care of them.”

“Yes, of course. I told him I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving until I knew he was in good hands, which means he'd have to get married before I did. As usual, that closed the subject. You see, he's caught in a trap of his own making. He insists that women are needed only to take care of the men in their lives, yet my marrying would leave the men in my life—my only reason for existing apparently—alone. And the last thing my father wants to do is get married.”

Mary Katherine shook her head in wonderment. “I swear, Grace, you are the most complicated of thinkers. What will you do if your papa tells you he will get married, thereby releasing you from your obligation to your family and leaving no obstacles to your getting married?”

“I've thought of that, of course. If that should happen, then it's the suitor who will have to be dissuaded.”

“Oh,” Mary Katherine said challengingly, “and how will you do that?”

Grace looked at her solemnly and said, “I have my ways,” leaving Mary Katherine with little doubt that she did.

Endeavoring to bring a little lightness back into the conversation, Mary Katherine said, “The next time your father drags home a suitor for you, you ought to pull out the Declaration of Sentiments from Seneca Falls!”

Grace burst out laughing. “Oh that's an excellent idea! After showing them to him, I could ask him if he could guarantee that any man I married wouldn't commit any of the transgressions on the list. Oh! Even better, I'd ask him to get the man to sign them as truth and
then
promise not to commit them!”

Mary Katherine laughed. The Declaration of Sentiments had been drawn up at the first-ever women's convention and was essentially a list of transgressions men had the right by law to make against women in order to keep them dependent and beneath them. It had been drawn up as proof that, legally, men did have control over women. “M-may,” she said between deep chuckles, “maybe if you told him that Frederick Douglass's
North Star
said that it was the grand basis for attaining the rights of women, then he'd be impressed.”

Grace snorted indelicately. “Oh that would never work with Papa. You see, at the time of the convention, Papa said that Mr. Douglass was wasting his time by even attending.”

Mary Katherine sobered. “He did?” she asked in shock.

“Yes,” Grace said with a nod. “Papa is a staunch believer in second-class citizenship for women. More to the point, the women's movement is not even a remote concern for him, given that most Negroes are enslaved. He said that even if the women's movement obtained equal rights for women, they wouldn't apply to us, as under American law, every Negro—male and female—is considered subhuman. And of course, he's correct.”