10.
~ Ariadne didn't feel like taking a cab home again. She wanted the long walk that would give her time to think.
Normally, her ladies meeting invigorated her. Made her feel stronger and more in control of a life that she always felt just a minor player in. But listening to their plan for voting today, she felt it was more of desperation than anything else.
Mary planned to take men's suits and hem them accordingly. They would pin back their hair in men's hats and even put on fake facial hair from the dime store. To register, they planed to give the name, birth date and address of a man who had passed away in the last year Sybil Yates had found in the courthouse. They would also vote out of county so as not to arouse suspicion.
It was a good plan, all the ladies decided happily. It sent a message to the men that they could vote, but Ariadne had her doubts.
If they would be found out, they would certainly be arrested, it might be a federal crime. Arthur couldn't bail her out this time and he might be so disgusted with her, so sure she had gone insane, he might lock her up in some kind of asylum.
Her father had always threatened to have her committed for her radical talk. He insisted that her ideas weren't normal and that something was wrong with her to make her so rebellious when any normal girl was panning weddings and parties and having a family.
She also didn't want Arthur to be angry at her anymore. She felt deep down inside that she was unreasonable at times where he was concerned. That she should be happy to be married to a man who was as kind and thoughtful as Arthur was. A man who sent her flowers and chocolate. Who looked at her so adoringly at times, she felt her legs shake at the wonder of his enchantment.
She ran her hands over her cut off hair and felt the errant strands pop free. Her hair. How would she explain that misstep to Arthur? He would be livid when he saw that her long, beautiful locks were gone.
She couldn't think about it now. Arthur might not notice for a while if she kept it up in the clever pin Mrs. Marsh contrived.
She was hardly paying attention to where she was walking, her thoughts so heavy on the ladies plans, her husband, her hair, she was almost struck by a cabbie. The large bay even standing on it's hind legs and exclaiming at her as it reared up in alarm.
"Watch it!" the cabbie shouted at her in a heavy accent as he tried to control the beast.
Ariadne attempted to side step the great animal as it's sharp hoofs threaten to come down on her.
"Careful, miss." came a voice and strong hands pulled her to safety off the street.
Ariadne almost tripped on the curb as her eyes were transfixed on the large horse with his rearing that could have ended her. She tripped and fell into a warm body as hands and arms easily caught her and helped her stand back up.
"You're alright." he was saying as she watched the horse go back on all fours and trot angrily away.
"Thank you." she said numbly as, if in a daze, she started walking down the street again.
"Miss?" the voice was saying and she felt a warm, stable hand find hers again.
She turned and saw a man, working class by the looks of his clothing, peering worriedly at her.
When he spoke again, his accent was English.
"Are you alright? You seem a bit off." he said.
"I'm fine. I just... I think I took a wrong turn." she sighed and looked at the apartment buildings that were new, but built closer together than she would have cared for.
"I can see that. Where are you lost from?" he asked then chuckled. A boyish delight taking over his handsome face. "Or, it might be better to ask where you're lost to?"
"I was walking home." she said with difficulty as a gang of children ran past them. The boys were dirty, pitiful things who resembled a pack of dogs more than humans.
'I don't want a child like that.' Ariadne thought.
"We'll, by the look of you, you don't look like you'll find home in this neighborhood." the man said. "Do you need a cab?"
Ariadne stopped and took a good look at him.
He was handsome enough. His face was soft and had a smile that was itching to come out. At the same time, he looked thoughtful and intelligent. It was an interesting combination on a man barely out of his twenties.
"Sir, I can walk home from here." she said and turned away.
"Do you even know where here is?" he asked.
She stopped and looked around the streets. She didn't recognize the look of any of them.
"See, the city has torn down a lot of the old country homes and building new everything. Too many immigrants." he laughed. "We're getting them from all over these days with the railroads being built out west and all."
She felt a sense of panic chill her blood.
"Where..." she whispered.
"I can take you home." he offered as she tired to gain her bearings and failed. The man was right, the buildings had all changed and she wasn't sure where she was now.
"I'll just hail a cabbie." she said and refused to look at him.
"Well that's me." he said as she walked to an unattended yellow carriage. A docile brown mare with blinders was waiting and no driver was in the seat.
"I mean, that's me." he pointed at the horse.
She finally looked back at him and he explained.
"My job, I'm a cabbie. This is Mary Bell. The sweetest lady I've ever known." he pointed to the horse.
"Oh." she said uncomfortably. "Well, you might be lying and a kidnapper."
He nodded and reached into the driver's glove box. He pulled out a city issued license with an out of focus photograph that all cab drivers have to have.
"Got my license last year. Handsome devil, aren't I?" he asked and she read the name.
"Mr. Eames, is it?" she asked and handed him the license back.
"That's right." he said with that roguish smile.
"Well, then that's fine." she said and waited for him to open the passenger side of the cab. Mr. Eames tipped his hat and obliged. Even helping her inside the way a properly trained driver would do.
"Did you work as a cabbie before coming to America?" she asked him as he climbed up to the driver seat and guided Mary Bell into a trot.
"Yes, I've worked all over." he said as the animal made a turn. "Fresh off the boat one week and jobs are growing on trees in this city. I didn't like factory work, and this is always more fun."
"Don't you worry about crazy people?" she asked and leaned close to the drivers partition. "They might rob you?"
He only laughed.
"I can handle myself." he said. "Do you want to tell me where home is?"
She gave him her address and watched the newly built apartments and the hordes of new immigrants rush past.
"We get them everyday now." Eames was saying. "Mostly Irish now. They come for the work."
"Why did you come?" she asked. "It couldn't have been easy to start a new life."
"It's not." he agreed. "But after my wife died, I saw no reason to stay. I had a little money from her life insurance and made the crossing. I was able to rent a room and find a job the day I got off the boat. Not everyone is so lucky."
It was a pleasant ride to her well to do neighborhood. Mr. Eames was smart and chatty about the city and how his land lady was in love with him.
"Poor old girl." he laughed and Ariadne had to giggle at the story of the love sick woman trying to catch Mr. Eames in the bath on Saturday nights.
"Is this you?" he asked and nodded up at Ariadne's fine brownstone.
"Yes." she said and paid him.
"Thank you, Miss?" he asked.
"Mrs. Brandon." she said sadly. Remembering her husband would be home by now and upset she had gone out.
"I figured." Eames said softly. Although the smile didn't leave his lips. "A lady like you, course you have a husband to go home to."
She looked back at Mr. Eames and suddenly didn't want to leave the cab. He looked her in the eye and she felt a giddy rush fill her when their eyes met.
"Well, it was nice meeting you." she said at last.
"If you're in need of a good cabbie, just send one of the kids to Fisherman's house. Everyone knows where that is. Tell them to ask for Mr. Eames." he said.
"Very well." she smiled.
She exited out of the cab and hoped neatly down. She thought it best not to give Mr. Eames or Mary Bell a look back and was a little sad to hear the horses hooves trotting away.
~ Arthur was waiting for her in the front room, a heavy book he had been reading on his lap.
"Where were you?" he asked as she stepped in from the chill. His long legs were crossed and his body looked relaxed enough enough. His face, however, made it clear he was angry.
"I was at my ladies meetings." she said casually as she pulled off her coat and hung it up.
"I thought we agreed you would not be engaging in that activity." he said and stood.
"We didn't agree on anything, dear." she said with a false sweetness. "You told me what I was to do and-"
"And you do it!" he barked. "I'm you're husband. I make the rules that govern this house!"
"Don't yell at me!" she shouted back. "I'm not a slave you can just order about!"
"I wanted to take you out to dinner tonight. To apologize for what..." he looked worriedly at the dinning room door. Hoping Mrs. Marsh wasn't eavesdropping. "For last night. I come home to find my wife has gone. Off to meet with the same people who have caused this house so much trouble."
"Why on earth would you apologize for last night?" she teased ruthlessly. "Weren't you just doing your duty as a man?"
"Ariadne." he breathed and shook his head. "I don't want to be that kind of a husband."
She refused to look at him.
"I don't want you to go back to those meetings." he said as she looked at the pale pink roses he had sent her that morning. Mrs. Marsh had put them in a vase and in the front window. They were lovely and in full bloom. Their heads big and heavy for so late in the year.
She also saw the large box of finely wrapped chocolate he had sent over.
"What happened last night, I... I don't know what came over me." he was explaining. "I was just so angry, and you refused to listen."
She heard him breath a deep sigh as she looked over the roses. Her fingers touching the delicate petals.
"Are you that unhappy? Being my wife?" he asked at last. His voice full of suffering.
She looked back at him.
"I'm not unhappy." she said in a soft, broken voice. "I'm just..." she couldn't find the right words.
"I'm incomplete." she said at last.
He shook his head and stood next to her.
"I think a child might help you. A doctor friend of mines says that having a child will help you relax more. That it's you're body's destiny and you'll feel better once a baby comes along." he said. His hands going to her hair.
"Arthur." she sighed. And moved away from him.
"Ariadne, there is nothing I won't do for you. But this foolishness has to stop." he said. "No more meetings and we're going to seriously work on our family."
His voice was stern and authoritative.
She glared back at him.
"So I'm to be breeding stock in a pretty dress, is that it?" she asked. Repeating Mary's speech.
"Breeding stock? How does having a child with your husband make you breeding stock?" he asked. His face pulling into a scowl.
She stuck her chin out at him. Her hands going to the myriad of pins that held her false hair piece in place.
"I won't be told what I can and can't do." she said as he watched her take out pin after pin. "I'm a grown woman who can make her own choices in life. If I'm not ready to be a mother, then I won't have a baby. If I want to see my friends, I will. I'm your wife, but not by choice, sir. I don't love you and I never will."
She had placed all the pins on the table next to the flowers and finally pulled free her hair piece.
Arthur's face fell as she shook out her shorter hair and looked at him with defiance.
"Go upstairs to my room." he whispered. His face that stony look again of bare restrained anger.
"NOW!" he barked.