Note From Author: I know this chapter may be rather short, so I am deciding
whether I should add to it or not…Anyway, thank you for the reviews so far!
They make me feel loved…lol. Please R and R. Thanks. Enjoy…
CHAPTER THREE
To mostly everyone, Katrina Van Witt resembled a Leprechaun. She was rather on the short-side, with long tangles of fiery dark red hair, and burning green eyes.
And she quite possibly could be one, too. For her parents had emigrated from Ireland only thirteen years before. The Van Witts had been dirt poor when they reached America. But, as it so happened, Michael Van Witt by chance while digging one day found a rather large nugget of gold. That in a nutshell was the Van Witts' story of the transformation from rags to riches.
The Van Witts were often regarded haughtily by the established wealth in New York City as 'new money.' Even John and Ava Rockwell called them 'new money' behind their backs, and they were supposed to be good friends with them. But, one way or another, Darby could careless if the Van Witts were new money or old money or had no money—Katrina Van Witt would remain her one true friend no matter what.
At the current moment, Katrina resembled a rather wrathful Leprechaun.
"What do you mean they won't let you out of the house?" she cried in a melodic Irish accent.
Darby let out an exasperated sigh and fell back against the plush chair. "I told you, Kat, I'm not allowed out of the damn house to go anywhere, anywhere, until I conduct a sincere apology to David Van Wyck."
Katrina, arms crossed over her chest, began to pace the room, her green dress swishing behind her, stopping ever so sporadically to look Darby in the eye. "But this is an outrage, Darby! You did nothing wrong! You simply stood up for yourself!" She exhaled, falling beside Darby in the plush chair's mate. Their gazes locked.
"For Christ's sake, Darby," she said wearily. "It's almost the dawn of the twentieth century. More women have to stand up for themselves if they want to be respected. It's not fair. You stood up for yourself, and where did it get you?"
"Nowhere," they glumly said in unison.
Both girls fell silent, causing Darby's mind to replay what had happened the previous night.
Darby had known that what faced her would be a hideous mess, but, as it turned out, it wasn't all that hideous.
She had been seated in the receiving room, still shivering in her pale blue dress and her fantastically expensive heels anywhere but on her feet.
Her father had paced the room, face bright red, shouting how this would be the Rockwell's downfall. Due to her behavior, Darby would become some lonely old spinster who lived in a run down old shack with her thousands of cats. How he would lose all his capital.
Her mother had sat in a plush chair facing Darby, crying hysterically in her prissy way, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. She sobbed that her name would be tarnished because of her daughter's audacious behavior. How Darby would have ruined all ties with the Van Wycks. How she would be talked about in her social circles as 'Ava Rockwell, the woman's whose daughter threw a pie in her fiancé's face.'
Quite frankly, Darby didn't know what the hell they had babbled.
As far as she was concerned, it had all been a drift of jabberwocky. In reality, Mrs. Van Wyck had fainted. Mayor Van Wyck had become insane with rage. The guests at that particular dinner party that still wanted to be invited back for more dinner parties had acted as though it were an outrage that Darby Rockwell heaved that pie at the poor David Van Wyck. But the guests that really couldn't give a damn had laughed at the whole incident.
Darby had sat in the chair, watching her father, red faced, pace around the room like a mad hatter and her mother sob like a cascade, hoping at least some good had come out of her audacity. That perhaps Mayor and Mrs. Van Wyck had become so enraged with her that they had severed all ties from the Rockwells and poor ickle David would have to find some other poor, poor girl to wed.
Sadly, that had not been the case.
Somehow, John and Ava had bribed Robert and Christina to allow the betrothal of their children to still carry along as planned.
Even after all the brashness she had displayed, Darby Rockwell in the end would end up walking down the aisle with David Van Wyck.
God, life wasn't fair. But, Darby still had the priceless memory of Mrs. Marks delicious apple pie besmeared all over his smug face.
No one could ever take that away.
After a few moments of silence, Darby softly said, "Kat, I can't take it anymore. I am too tired of bucking my parents and the proper rules of society. I have been trying to prevent my betrothal to David Van Prick for as long as my mind will allow me to recall. And it doesn't get me any further to freedom. I am stuck. I don't want to try anymore. It's too wearisome."
Katrina quickly sat up in her seat, her eyes blazing with a fire. "What the hell did you just say, Darby?"
Darby wearily turned her head towards Katrina, her blue eyes dull. "Nothing, Kat."
Katrina jumped out of her seat in a flash. "Darby Lynn Rockwell, how dare you say such a thing! That you are just giving up like that? That you are actually saying that you will commit yourself to that horrid David Van Prick without a fight? What happened to the Darby I know?"
Darby laughed and shook her head. "Kat, you don't know what it's like to be me. You can date who ever you fancy without your parents even giving a damn. Me, I can never even be with another man for it is silently agreed that I will marry David Van Wyck. It's…never mind…"
In one quick motion, Katrina grabbed Darby's wrist and pulled her to her feet. And before Darby even knew what was happening, Katrina let her hand rip across Darby's cheek.
Darby stepped back, stunned, her eyes wide and her hand on her stinging cheek. "Katrina! What the HELL was that?"
Katrina took a step closer to her friend, her face set seriously. "That, Darby Rockwell, was to snap you out of whatever the hell kind of state of mind you are in. You were starting to sound like your mother, a transparent little flake that doesn't care what the hell happens to her and will let men trample all over her without even opening her goddamn mouth!"
Darby, her electric eyes wide in shock as she gaze at Katrina and her hand still on her cheek, erupted into hysterical tears, sinking back onto the chair. "Oh God, you're right, Kat. I'm…I'm sounding like my MOTHER!"
Katrina let out a sympathetic laugh and collapsed next to Darby, wrapping her arms around her. "Darby, you are not your mother. Nor will you ever be. Don't let her rub off on you. Don't let anyone rub off on you. Don't let anyone tell you that it is your duty as a lady to marry David Van Prick, because it's not. It's is your duty as a lady to do whatever the hell you want, and that duty consists of accompanying me to a party tonight!"
Darby immediately stopped her tears and gazed at Katrina's sly smile with large eyes. She shook her head.
Katrina nodded her head. "Oh, yes, Darby. I will not let you stay trapped in this room with your horrid parents down below as your only company and you second guessing whether tossing that pie in that ass's face was the right thing to do or not. Which it was. But I won't have it. You have to get out."
Darby sat up and blew her nose on the handkerchief that Katrina provided for her. "But, Kat, the only way I can get out of the house if I apologize to David, and like that is going to occur."
"Well," Katrina mused. "You can apologize, but keep your fingers crossed."
Darby had to laugh, as she threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, Kat, what would I do without you?"
"Go absolutely bonkers in this world of stiff socialites," Katrina replied, smiling.
All of a sudden, there was a knock at Darby's door and an Irish accent to match Katrina's inquired, "Katrina dear, are you ready? It is almost time for lunch."
Katrina was arising to her feet as the door swung open and Mrs. Van Witt appeared in the doorway, looking stunning in a red dress to complement her scarlet hair and emerald eyes. And behind her, Mrs. Rockwell, looking rather tired, her brown hair pinned upon the crown of her head.
"Yes, mother, I am ready!" Katrina replied. She leaned over, whispering in Darby's ear, "If all works out, meet me at the corner of Main at eight sharp!"
Darby nodded as Katrina strolled over to her mothers side, making to two look rather like identical copies.
"Goodbye, Darby, it was nice to see you again! Come over anytime!" Mrs. Van Witt called to Darby.
Darby smiled, still perched in the chair. "Thank you, Mrs. Van Witt. Goodbye! Goodbye, Katrina!"
"Goodbye, Darby," Katrina replied, throwing her a wink before she and her mother disappeared out the door.
That left Darby staring into her mother's pale blue eyes. Without speaking, her mother prepared to shut the door when Darby, taking a breath, called out, "Mother, wait! I am ready to apologize!"
CHAPTER THREE
To mostly everyone, Katrina Van Witt resembled a Leprechaun. She was rather on the short-side, with long tangles of fiery dark red hair, and burning green eyes.
And she quite possibly could be one, too. For her parents had emigrated from Ireland only thirteen years before. The Van Witts had been dirt poor when they reached America. But, as it so happened, Michael Van Witt by chance while digging one day found a rather large nugget of gold. That in a nutshell was the Van Witts' story of the transformation from rags to riches.
The Van Witts were often regarded haughtily by the established wealth in New York City as 'new money.' Even John and Ava Rockwell called them 'new money' behind their backs, and they were supposed to be good friends with them. But, one way or another, Darby could careless if the Van Witts were new money or old money or had no money—Katrina Van Witt would remain her one true friend no matter what.
At the current moment, Katrina resembled a rather wrathful Leprechaun.
"What do you mean they won't let you out of the house?" she cried in a melodic Irish accent.
Darby let out an exasperated sigh and fell back against the plush chair. "I told you, Kat, I'm not allowed out of the damn house to go anywhere, anywhere, until I conduct a sincere apology to David Van Wyck."
Katrina, arms crossed over her chest, began to pace the room, her green dress swishing behind her, stopping ever so sporadically to look Darby in the eye. "But this is an outrage, Darby! You did nothing wrong! You simply stood up for yourself!" She exhaled, falling beside Darby in the plush chair's mate. Their gazes locked.
"For Christ's sake, Darby," she said wearily. "It's almost the dawn of the twentieth century. More women have to stand up for themselves if they want to be respected. It's not fair. You stood up for yourself, and where did it get you?"
"Nowhere," they glumly said in unison.
Both girls fell silent, causing Darby's mind to replay what had happened the previous night.
Darby had known that what faced her would be a hideous mess, but, as it turned out, it wasn't all that hideous.
She had been seated in the receiving room, still shivering in her pale blue dress and her fantastically expensive heels anywhere but on her feet.
Her father had paced the room, face bright red, shouting how this would be the Rockwell's downfall. Due to her behavior, Darby would become some lonely old spinster who lived in a run down old shack with her thousands of cats. How he would lose all his capital.
Her mother had sat in a plush chair facing Darby, crying hysterically in her prissy way, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. She sobbed that her name would be tarnished because of her daughter's audacious behavior. How Darby would have ruined all ties with the Van Wycks. How she would be talked about in her social circles as 'Ava Rockwell, the woman's whose daughter threw a pie in her fiancé's face.'
Quite frankly, Darby didn't know what the hell they had babbled.
As far as she was concerned, it had all been a drift of jabberwocky. In reality, Mrs. Van Wyck had fainted. Mayor Van Wyck had become insane with rage. The guests at that particular dinner party that still wanted to be invited back for more dinner parties had acted as though it were an outrage that Darby Rockwell heaved that pie at the poor David Van Wyck. But the guests that really couldn't give a damn had laughed at the whole incident.
Darby had sat in the chair, watching her father, red faced, pace around the room like a mad hatter and her mother sob like a cascade, hoping at least some good had come out of her audacity. That perhaps Mayor and Mrs. Van Wyck had become so enraged with her that they had severed all ties from the Rockwells and poor ickle David would have to find some other poor, poor girl to wed.
Sadly, that had not been the case.
Somehow, John and Ava had bribed Robert and Christina to allow the betrothal of their children to still carry along as planned.
Even after all the brashness she had displayed, Darby Rockwell in the end would end up walking down the aisle with David Van Wyck.
God, life wasn't fair. But, Darby still had the priceless memory of Mrs. Marks delicious apple pie besmeared all over his smug face.
No one could ever take that away.
After a few moments of silence, Darby softly said, "Kat, I can't take it anymore. I am too tired of bucking my parents and the proper rules of society. I have been trying to prevent my betrothal to David Van Prick for as long as my mind will allow me to recall. And it doesn't get me any further to freedom. I am stuck. I don't want to try anymore. It's too wearisome."
Katrina quickly sat up in her seat, her eyes blazing with a fire. "What the hell did you just say, Darby?"
Darby wearily turned her head towards Katrina, her blue eyes dull. "Nothing, Kat."
Katrina jumped out of her seat in a flash. "Darby Lynn Rockwell, how dare you say such a thing! That you are just giving up like that? That you are actually saying that you will commit yourself to that horrid David Van Prick without a fight? What happened to the Darby I know?"
Darby laughed and shook her head. "Kat, you don't know what it's like to be me. You can date who ever you fancy without your parents even giving a damn. Me, I can never even be with another man for it is silently agreed that I will marry David Van Wyck. It's…never mind…"
In one quick motion, Katrina grabbed Darby's wrist and pulled her to her feet. And before Darby even knew what was happening, Katrina let her hand rip across Darby's cheek.
Darby stepped back, stunned, her eyes wide and her hand on her stinging cheek. "Katrina! What the HELL was that?"
Katrina took a step closer to her friend, her face set seriously. "That, Darby Rockwell, was to snap you out of whatever the hell kind of state of mind you are in. You were starting to sound like your mother, a transparent little flake that doesn't care what the hell happens to her and will let men trample all over her without even opening her goddamn mouth!"
Darby, her electric eyes wide in shock as she gaze at Katrina and her hand still on her cheek, erupted into hysterical tears, sinking back onto the chair. "Oh God, you're right, Kat. I'm…I'm sounding like my MOTHER!"
Katrina let out a sympathetic laugh and collapsed next to Darby, wrapping her arms around her. "Darby, you are not your mother. Nor will you ever be. Don't let her rub off on you. Don't let anyone rub off on you. Don't let anyone tell you that it is your duty as a lady to marry David Van Prick, because it's not. It's is your duty as a lady to do whatever the hell you want, and that duty consists of accompanying me to a party tonight!"
Darby immediately stopped her tears and gazed at Katrina's sly smile with large eyes. She shook her head.
Katrina nodded her head. "Oh, yes, Darby. I will not let you stay trapped in this room with your horrid parents down below as your only company and you second guessing whether tossing that pie in that ass's face was the right thing to do or not. Which it was. But I won't have it. You have to get out."
Darby sat up and blew her nose on the handkerchief that Katrina provided for her. "But, Kat, the only way I can get out of the house if I apologize to David, and like that is going to occur."
"Well," Katrina mused. "You can apologize, but keep your fingers crossed."
Darby had to laugh, as she threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, Kat, what would I do without you?"
"Go absolutely bonkers in this world of stiff socialites," Katrina replied, smiling.
All of a sudden, there was a knock at Darby's door and an Irish accent to match Katrina's inquired, "Katrina dear, are you ready? It is almost time for lunch."
Katrina was arising to her feet as the door swung open and Mrs. Van Witt appeared in the doorway, looking stunning in a red dress to complement her scarlet hair and emerald eyes. And behind her, Mrs. Rockwell, looking rather tired, her brown hair pinned upon the crown of her head.
"Yes, mother, I am ready!" Katrina replied. She leaned over, whispering in Darby's ear, "If all works out, meet me at the corner of Main at eight sharp!"
Darby nodded as Katrina strolled over to her mothers side, making to two look rather like identical copies.
"Goodbye, Darby, it was nice to see you again! Come over anytime!" Mrs. Van Witt called to Darby.
Darby smiled, still perched in the chair. "Thank you, Mrs. Van Witt. Goodbye! Goodbye, Katrina!"
"Goodbye, Darby," Katrina replied, throwing her a wink before she and her mother disappeared out the door.
That left Darby staring into her mother's pale blue eyes. Without speaking, her mother prepared to shut the door when Darby, taking a breath, called out, "Mother, wait! I am ready to apologize!"