3.
~ Ariadne sat in the deep bathtub full of piping hot water that Mrs. Marsh had readied for her. She was grateful that her husband had insisted on the boiler that was installed in the basement before they set up housekeeping. She hadn't been used to hot water from a tap before and never grew tired of the luxury of it.
As a child, the poor scullery maid had to trudge hot water buckets to freshen the tepid water for a bi weekly bath.
Now, Ariadne could bath every night is she wanted to.
She watched her toes peek out of the foamy bathwater, shudder at the chill in the air and dipped her body lower into the warm blanket like feel of the water.
Mrs. Marsh was fond of perfuming her bath with lavender and some other mixture that was meant to relax her.
Most nights it worked extremely well. Aradidne would retire to her bedroom, her solitary bed, and fall asleep as soon and she was nestled in her soft bedding. She would fall so deeply asleep, that she didn't care if her husband slept in his own bed next door.
It was sensible and fashionable to have separate beds and rooms. A renowned doctor had said that men and women were two different creatures who couldn't possibly co-exist in such a small space as a shared bed. That such a thing was like asking a tiger and lion to share a cage. The two were capable of mating, but the chances were far better they would fight to the death.
Ariadne had to smile as she washed her body. Wondering if she was the tiger or the lion. She normally never agreed with these so called doctors and their ideas that women were another species, but she had to agree that comparing them to wild beats, was flattering.
"Miss?" Mrs. Marsh peeped her head into the bathroom and Ariadne lazily looked over at the housekeeper.
"Yes?" she asked as she could barely keep her eyes open. She could sleep right here in the bathtub and be happy.
"Mr. Brandon is asking you to come down to dinner." Mrs. Marsh said and unfolded a large towel.
Ariadne felt her rebellion rise up again.
"I think I'll just go to bed." she said. "Send him my regrets."
Mrs. Marsh shook her head.
"He was insistent. He wants you to eat dinner with him." she said.
Ariadne let out a long sigh. It was never a good thing when Arthur insisted she eat with him. Normally, she could get away with it by claiming to have women's troubles. Her poor, ignorant husband, not understanding to woes of women and too afraid to ask why she had to retire most nights. Accepting that she had to rest or risk bodily harm.
Her stomach clenched tightly at the knowledge that she was in trouble with him. That he was madder at her than he had ever been.
She climbed out of the fragrant bathwater and allowed Mrs. Marsh to help her dress and comb out her long, dark hair.
'I should cut it all off.' Ariadne thought spitefully. 'Arthur loves to touch my hair when he comes to be at night. He wants it down and around my face. I should cut it short like a boy.'
She winced as Mrs. Marsh repined her shinny hair back into a suitable style and told her to hurry and dress.
Ariadne felt more like a child than ever. That she was never an adult, that Arthur was more her second father than her husband. She did as Mrs. Marsh asked and slipped on a heavy, dressing robe Arthur had given her during their honeymoon.
It was cut and styled to look, not at all like a robe, but a dress. This way, she could be comfortable and still look appropriate.
It was another nice thing he did for her without asking.
She looked decent enough, and followed Mrs. Marsh downstairs to find her husband already seated at the dinning table.
"Thank you, Mrs. Marsh." he said cooly when the women appeared.
Ariadne took her place at the large table, meant to seat ten, and didn't look at Arthur.
She knew he saw the robe she was wearing and disapproved.
"Not feeling well?" he asked stiffly.
"Very tired." she said and didn't look at him. Mrs. Marsh was in the kitchen getting their dinner and they were alone for the first time.
"Yes, standing outside a senator's personal home and shouting at him, getting arrested with those women, that would exhaust anyone." he said darkly.
She felt a pain spear her heart. He was mocking her. She knew he didn't think women should get the vote, but he thought her protest, her cause, was a joke.
"I was proud to be out there with those women. They're very brave." Ariadne said and sipped her water.
"Oh yes. You should be proud to be laughed at by strange men. To have food thrown at you. To be arrested for disturbing a public officials home life and upsetting his wife." Arthur said sarcastically.
"His wife should be upset." Ariadne bit back. "Her husband wants to pass laws saying a woman can't press charges against her rapist. That a male relative of her family has to do it. He has even said that a husband has every right to rape his wi-"
Arthur banged his fist on the table and Ariadne jumped.
"Enough!" he almost bellowed.
Mrs. Marsh, thankfully returned with a soup tureen of her warm stew and both husband and wife composed themselves.
"Here we are, sir." she said contentedly.
"Thank you, Mrs. Marsh. Why don't you call it an early night? I'm sure you're worn out already." Arthur said with difficulty.
"I think I will, sir." Mrs. Marsh said and looked a little peaked. "Thank you."
"We'll be fine." Arthur told her and the poor widow, no husband to provide for her, left them alone.
Arthur helped himself to the stew and Ariadne fought back tears.
"Eat something." he ordered after he spooned a hearty supply of stew for himself.
"I'm not hungry." she said and felt her voice shake.
"Eat your dinner. I won't have you starve." he said with more steel to his voice.
She didn't move. She didn't look at him.
"Ariadne, I promised your father I would take care of you. Allowing you to go hungry is not exactly keeping my promise, is it?" his voice had suddenly grown calmer. Softer. A lower tone meant only for her to hear.
He had also called her by her first name.
She bit her lip hard as her stomach roared for Mrs. Marsh's stew.
She spooned a small amount into her bowl. Just enough to blunt her hunger and little else.
"That's all?" he asked.
"I keep telling you, I'm not hungry." she hissed and smoothed a cloth napkin over her lap.
Arthur sat back, his face pulling into a scowl that meant he was insulted by her back talk.
"Very well." he said harshly, and they ate in heavy silence.
As soon as she was finished eating, she sat and waited for Arthur to dismiss her. A thing he seemed unwilling to do just yet.
"I think I'll retire early myself tonight." she said in a breathless, school girl air that meant she was untroubled and carefree.
"No." Arthur said grumpily as he finished eating his own dinner.
"I'm not feeling well. Ladies troubles." Ariadne clarified.
"Ahh, the same as last week." Arthur said in a mocking tone.
Ariadne bit her lip and glowered at him.
"You may be interested to know your court date is next week. A thing which will play out in the papers to the delight of everyone I work with." he said angrily.
"Next week? What about the other women I was arrested with? They'll have to languish in that filthy jail cell for a week if no one bails them out?" Ariadne gasped in horror.
"That is the risk you all took when you broke the law, Dear." Arthur said coldly. "One can not verbally assault an elected man at his own home."
"We were holding him acceptable for crimes against women!" Ariadne retorted.
"Oh, yes." Arthur laughed. "Remind me again how you are a victim of crime, Mrs. Brandon!"
He waved an arm around their fine dinning room.
"I've provided you with a nice home. Money for dresses and parties should you wish them. Tell me, convincingly, that you are a victim." he laughed.
"It's not about me!" Ariadne said. She wished she had Mary's words to help her now. Wished she could quickly find the right thing to say to put Arthur in his place. "It's about all women. It's about how it's perfectly legal for a husband to beat his wife. How the law prohibits women, and does nothing to protect them."
"You honestly believe this new age garbage?" Arthur said scornfully. "That women are just as capable as men in manners of work and government?"
"Give me one reason why not." Ariadne challenged.
Arthur rolled his eyes as though she were a silly girl.
"Well, Mrs. Brandon, based on your behavior tonight, they are hysterical creatures who are given to rash episodes of temperament. Those attributes do not go well in the real world. We're a modern city, not the wild west. I do not need a wife working in the fields, as it were." he said.
"I'm not asking for the world, Mr. Brandon." she said stiffly. "Just for a chance to be part of it."
Arthur looked offended and more than a little hurt. He took a sip of water, placed his glass neatly back on the table and stood.
"Go upstairs." he ordered.
She felt fear race through her body. Her belly clenching tightly and an excitement tickle her like a feather touch.
"No." she whispered.
"Go upstairs to my room." he said calmly. "Now, Mrs. Brandon."
She tried to steel herself as she stood. She knew what was coming and couldn't stop shaking.
"Arthur?" she said softly. Her voice pleading as he returned to her a look of cold, detachment.
"Go upstairs to my room." he ordered again and she, the dutiful wife, obeyed him.