A/N: I hope the wait was worth it, because finally, after a slight delay, here is Chapter 6! We will get to see a little more of the Masons and get a tiny peek into their life. Please let me know what you think, I always look forward to hearing from you all. Another huge shout-out to my AMAZING beta SunFlowerFran who literally kills me every time she edits my chapters because of how much better she makes my chapters for me! Thanks Fran! Enjoy!
"You need to perk up, Bella," Alice advises me softly as we lounge in my upstairs sitting area while waiting for the drawing room to be transformed into an intimate, and cozy tea room.
I was slouching on my pink velvet sofa, my hair almost touching the raised, wood decorations on the backrest. Bree would be upset with me if I allowed her carefully crafted updo to become disheveled and messy. But I feel as though I do not have the energy to care about such trivial things.
It has been nearly a week since my conversation with Jacob; one week since I have been resigned to my fate of being forever unhappily married with no prospect of ever bringing a child into the world. My husband was in love with another, and unfortunately for me, the one he loves with is not a woman. Perhaps, I could have dealt with an unfaithful husband, as long as he still occasionally came back to me. But my husband suffers an affliction that cannot be cured by a loving and willing wife. He is broken, and now, so am I.
Alice doesn't know much about the fine details of the conversation with Jacob, only that it happened, and did not go well. I can't bear to include her in my husband's perversions. And the fewer people who know, the better.
"I can't, Alice," I complain, twisting my fingers into the knit blanket that sat on my lap, a gift from my grandmother for my last birthday. It is beautifully patterned and made of fine, exceptionally soft, warm wool. I start pulling at the stitches, flicking fibers of torn away wool onto the carpeted floor. Sorry Bree.
It now seems as if I cannot help my destructive tendencies. My head has been anguished since the conversation, and it's all I can do to preserve my sanity.
How on earth am I expected to host a tea for my closest friends and Mrs. Mason, and pretend that everything is completely fine? How am I going to keep my newly-discovered dark secret away from the gossip hounds?
I don't want to even think about the repercussions if a single soul besides Jacob and I found out about the odd way about him. We would be outcasts, both from our friends and our families. It would be even worse than divorce.
And that is what has made me so miserable. Getting over the fact that my husband doesn't love me, at least not in the way a husband is supposed to love his wife, is hard. Difficult, but certainly doable.
However, the fact that there is no pathway out of the relationship without bringing incredible shame, embarrassment, and pariah status to the both of us is what is keeping my heart in a painful vice grip.
No child, no love, no life. How can I go on?
I looked at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. It was nearly half-past two. The ladies will start to filter in soon. It was time to suck it up, and put on a happy face, lest I give the gossip hounds something to talk about.
Irina was my biggest worry, considering her mouth never stopped moving. If she was able to collect intel on the new arrivals to our social circle before even being introduced to them, then how was I to keep my failed marriage out of her hands?
I will have to put on my very best act today, or else I don't stand a chance.
"I'm going to help you, don't worry, dear," Alice said, reaching her hand out to pat my arm gently. Such a valued friend she is. I wish more than anything that I could reveal my secret to her, at the very least to unburden myself from the weight of it. But I cannot.
"Thank you, Alice," I try my absolute best to smile at her. The corners of my mouth lift only slightly, but I'm certain it is an improvement on the frown I've been wearing for days on end. It feels as if I need to retrain my face, and fast, before my company arrives.
"We'll try to keep it as short as possible. As soon as they all get here, we will go straight into the drawing room and start the tea and coffee. The sandwiches and cakes will be served together, and then light conversation until I remind everyone that it's time to get back home to our husbands and children," she explains her game plan in a matter of fact tone. It's no wonder most of the ladies consider her the spiritual leader of our social group.
She really ought to have hosted instead of me, but it was too late to switch the venue and hostess without arousing suspicion. Though, I daresay, with my current mood, I will be lucky to get through the afternoon with no one realizing how off I am.
Focus, Bella, focus.
The clock chimed the half-hour and I forced myself to stand and face the large mirror that sat beside the door out to the hall.
My tea gown was looking a bit disheveled from my slouching. It was a golden yellow, brocaded wool affair that was quite warm and cozy. Quite plain, and not as form-fitting as I might have worn, but certainly glamorous enough to host tea. No one would be able to say the yellow color was glum.
I arranged the skirt pleats so they hung a bit nicer, before fixing the yellow ribbon at the neck. Now all I needed was a smile, and I would look perfectly cheerful.
Getting closer to the mirror, I noticed how pale and dull my face looked. A quick pinch to both of my cheeks remedied that rather quickly.
I turned back to Alice and did my best impression of a smile, "How do I look?"
Alice vacated her seat and came toward me to get a better look. She shook her head and clucked her tongue, mostly playfully, but I sensed a serious air about it.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Bella," she chided and began nitpicking at the skirt of my gown. She moved in a small circle around me, really giving me the once-over. Her hands continued to smooth out my ensemble, removing the kinks and wrinkles caused by the pity slumping I had been doing moments ago.
On the contrary, Alice looked absolutely beautiful in her visiting dress. The bodice and skirt were a simple lined blue silk, accented by a pink, faux shirtwaist, and delicate lace ruffles. Not a ribbon or hair was out of place on her. Of course.
There was no more time to dwell on the fact that my best friend was utterly perfect in every facet of her life because the doorbell began to ring downstairs. It could mean only one thing: the ladies were beginning to trickle in, and the most difficult afternoon of my life was about to commence.
As Bree handed me a cup and saucer, my hand began to shake slightly from my nerves. The delicate, bone china clinked softly before I remedied my trembling by setting the cup of black tea on the coffee table before me. I could only hope no one was paying attention.
Thankfully, Alice had taken charge of the entertainment and was currently keeping everyone's attention with a story from a meeting she had been invited to. There was to be another World's Fair, this one to occur in Brussels in less than two years' time, and Alice had been asked to share ideas for their Women's Building. It was a cause to make every woman in our circle drunk with envy for such an honor.
Strangely, there seemed to be an air of anticipation in the room, judging by the looks that appeared to be going back and forth between the participants of my tea. I noticed this once I started paying attention.
That was when it hit me. There was someone missing … Mrs. Mason.
I'm certain that at any other time, I would have immediately identified her absence. But now, being completely preoccupied over the fact that my life was in ruins, I had let it go beyond my notice.
Now that I have tuned into the whispers filtering about the room, it is clear it was going to be the only thing these ladies could think about. At least it was a relief for me. With their attention drawn to the mysterious truancy of Victoria Mason, I am somewhat free to continue my own, personal, pity party.
The moment I allowed my mind to delve back into my despair, I knew I had made a grave mistake.
I cannot stop picturing my husband and his treachery. The idea that he could be passionate with another man in such an unnatural way still broke my heart into pieces. Why had he been so selfish? He had utterly deluded me into marrying him. I thought he loved and cared about me, but he was only afraid of being found out for what he was. I can never forgive him for getting me stuck in this situation.
My eyes began to water instantly with unshod tears, and I quickly stood and turned from the group, who thankfully, were still occupied with Alice's story and Mason gossip.
"Pardon me, I will be right back," I said to no one in particular before exiting the drawing room.
I went across the hall to the reception room and closed off the door that led back out. I just needed a moment to regain my composure before I could go back to my company.
The blue glazed tile that decorated the fireplace mantle felt so cool against my cheek as I pressed my body up against the wall. It was freezing outside, but my current sensitivity made my body alight with the fires of anger and despair.
I closed my eyes and tried to breath; tried to block out the horrible pictures of Jacob doing God-knows-what.
"Jesus Christ, Edward, leave it alone already!" my ears pricked at the voices coming up the driveway, toward the front door.
Unable to help myself, I pulled away from the fireplace and tiptoed to the window that looked out towards the front of the house. I was only slightly surprised to find the Masons making their way to my front door. I stood, watching, stealthily hidden by the dark velvet curtains that lined the windows.
When their footsteps ceased, I expected the bell to ring, and for my butler to get the door. But it did not. Instead, the extreme proximity of the reception room to the front door meant I could hear just about every word of their apparent argument.
"Do not speak in that manner to me, Victoria," I heard Mr. Mason use the same vitriol that his wife had in saying his name. "And do not tell me to leave it alone. I saw you…" he shot back, and I saw her jerk away from him.
Their faces were blocked from my view, but their body language was enough to see that this was something intensely unpleasant for them. I should have stopped my spying and gone back to the drawing room to await Victoria's arrival, after all, that would have been the polite thing to do. But I was rooted in my spot.
"As I said before, you were mistaken, dear," the sneer was evident in her voice.
"I was not mistaken, and if you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, it is you who are mistaken," he spat back as I saw his hand come up to ring the bell.
"Is that why you decided to escort me? So you can keep an eye on me? You'll need a lot more than that, dear," she retorted one final time.
The sound of the bell chimed through the vestibule and hallway. My butler, Mr. Peters, appeared quickly from one of the service corridors, but for some reason I decided to head him off.
"Thank you, Mr. Peters," I smiled cheerfully at him and waved him back towards the wainscot-covered door that blended into the hallway. His eyebrows raised in question, but he did as instructed.
The Mason's disagreement was still somewhat audible to me, but now it was muffled by the marble that lined the vestibule and the thick, stained glass, that decorated the entryway windows.
Now I walked purposefully to the door, hoping for one of them to see me coming through the window so that they might tactfully end their conversation before I opened the door.
It would appear they finally caught wind that they were no longer alone because they were silent as I opened the door with another smile. This time, it did not feel fake and forced. Something about what I had just been privy to had given me an odd sense of exuberance. It felt wrong to feel that way, but I could not stop it.
Nor did I want to.
Perhaps it was because I found Mr. Mason, Edward, so attractive, or perhaps it was because I found that his wife had such a disagreeable way about her.
"Welcome Mr. Mason, Mrs. Mason," I greeted the couple warmly before stepping aside to allow them both into the vestibule. A part of me regretted answering the door myself as the intense cold funneled into the house and invaded my dress. I could feel goosebumps sprouting on practically every part of my body.
"Can I take your mantle Mrs. Mason?" I offered as the red-headed woman began to remove her elaborate, purple wool, and fur-lined cape. It was quite heavy when she all but dropped it into my arms; yet another reason to have allowed Mr. Peters to handle the arrival.
"Are you staying, Mr. Mason? I'm afraid you'll find an event like this dreadfully boring for a man such as yourself," I chuckled lightly as I moved to press a little button disguised in the woodwork near the door to call Mr. Peters back to assist me.
It was almost as if the man, having anticipated my stupidity, had been waiting just behind the door. He appeared at once and removed the coat from my arms.
"I am actually meeting with your husband, Mrs. Black, I sent a telegraph yesterday asking him to consult on some legal papers I have for my business," he explained as he shed his coat and handed it off to Mr. Peters, who quietly retreated to a small cloakroom down the hall.
"Of course," I nodded, acting as though my husband and I had exchanged a single word in weeks and that I was well aware of what was going on in my own home. It was certainly news to me that my husband was once again working. "Mr. Peters, please show Mr. Mason to the study; Mr. Black is waiting for him," I instructed before turning back to Victoria who had been eerily quiet since entering my home.
"Sir," I heard my butler address Mr. Mason before leading him away.
"It's so lovely of you to join us, Mrs. Mason," I tried to make small talk as I began to walk back to the drawing room.
"Victoria," she corrected almost lazily as she smoothed her hands down the purple and black dress she wore.
"Of course, I should have asked. Most of the ladies prefer to be called by their given name when amongst friends. I should have known you would be the same," I said, trying to remedy the tightness of our interaction.
I cleared my throat and managed to catch Alice's eye, who quickly interrupted whatever ill words were being spoken.
"Look who's joined us," I caught everyone's attention further. I began to make the formal introductions as were required when a newcomer was brought into the inner circle, ensuring that only her first name was used as to her preference. This would be the very first time she would be up close and personal with the society ladies outside of the few balls the Masons had been invited to since arriving in town.
Once everyone was seated with a cup of hot tea in hand, I let myself relax and slightly enjoy. I could feel my mood had shifted for the better upon bearing witness to the early disagreement between the Masons. It was bitterly callous of me to find joy in the suffering of others, but perhaps that was who I now was … I bitter, twisted woman who was happy to know I was not the only unhappily married person in this town.
Now that Victoria could no longer be the object of fixation, it appeared Irina had steered the conversation elsewhere; to a well-known dry goods proprietor named Rupert, who had lost all his money in some fake, railroad company. His wife had left him immediately for a much younger man while he was left to pick up the pieces alone.
Love was apparently not winning in Chicago.
Victoria seemed to love the gossip and participated eagerly. For the first time, I saw her porcelain skin stretched into a smile of pure joy. Yet, her eyes held a sense of something twisted that I cannot put my finger on.
"He told me not to say anything, but my husband was looking to buy up the building and inventory. The shop he bought when we moved here is horribly small and outdated," she smiled almost gleefully at the misfortune of another for her gain.
"Rupert's loss is your gain," Irina chimed in, exchanging grins with Victoria. If they became chums, I'm certain it will be a cause of concern for the entire city.
"That is exactly what I told my husband. He was wary of it at first, what with the situation. But it's not his fault Rupert was an utter idiot with his money. Why shouldn't we profit from that?" she shrugged and took a sip of tea like it was nothing.
The other women began to chime in their agreements, and the talk continued.
Watching and listening to them made me feel sick to my stomach. I had done just that. Cheered at the hurt of another. I could not allow myself to ever have such feelings again. I was certainly raised better than that.
I tried to tune out the rest of the conversation and think more positive thoughts. This group, sparing Alice, was a pretty lousy group of women. They called themselves the best of the city, but they were truly no better than the very worst of this town. I could not completely lump Mrs. Mason in with my friends, after all, as far as I knew, she had not been born into money. A poor upbringing was likely at fault for her current odd temperament.
Something in the conversation piqued my interest again, and for some reason, it made my stomach sink once more.
"Do you have any children, Victoria?" Jessica Newton finally made her way into the conversation happening around her. The woman loved to talk as much as Irina liked to gossip and it was surprising that they had not paired up by now. Of course, Jessica mostly liked talking about herself so I wondered how children would come into the conversation when she had none.
"Yes, a girl. Her name is Jane. She was born just before we moved here," a real smile finally made its way to Victoria's face.
My stomach was falling lower.
"That's so sweet," Jessica exclaimed as she clasped her hands together under her chin. "I actually have some news of my own in that vein... This will be my last time out in a while. Michael and I are expecting."
Of course. Now, all the ladies have babies or are expecting. Everyone except for me.
Did I not deserve happiness?
That launched the women down the road of pregnancy and childbirth. Everyone had their own idea of the best way to get through it and were more than happy to share the joys and horrors of it all with Jessica. I did not think I would make it too much longer.
But luckily for me, salvation was not far off. Sensing my absolute misery, as rehearsed, after only another half hour of tea, and cakes, talk, and gossip, Alice stood and reminded everyone in the room about her responsibility to her own family.
Reluctantly, the women began to say their goodbyes. Coats and mantles were retrieved, and carriages were hailed. One by one, and in pairs, they departed north and south to their own urban mansions of varying styles; all containing one waiting husband, and at least one, doll-faced child. How they deserved such lives, and I did not, I could not understand.
Alice stuck around to help me decompress afterward. I needed some time in the conservatory to be amongst mother nature's loving gift in the cold winter wasteland that was currently Chicago.
As we passed by the cloakroom, the door was ajar. Curiosity caught me, and I looked inside. There was still a purple stole and a dark grey coat hanging side by side.
Both of the Masons were still here.