19.
~ Ariadne felt like her the very breath that had so freely pushed in and out of her lungs, had been robbed of all it's precious air. A deflated feeling pricked her flesh as she stumbled to her bed.
She curled under the covers and wrapped the bedding over her. Like some kind of animal wanting to hibernate for the winter, all she could think to do was escape through sleep.
She couldn't be something she wasn't. She couldn't even pretend to be a decent wife. Now, now this doctor thought she might have to go to asylum for girls who didn't fall into line. She wasn't sure what happened in places like that, but it was always a real and ever present threat to women who weren't happy at all times, and who's husband's had had enough. Was Arthur really cold hearted enough to banish her? And what about the child? Would she be forced to have it in some filthy place like that? Never to see it again or have the chance to be it's mother?
A fear gripped her so tightly in the belly she thought she might be sick again.
All she could do was wrap her covers around her body tighter, and cry all her fears out.
~ Mrs. Marsh didn't bother her for the rest of the day. Ariadne slept and the few times she woke up, she couldn't face the harsh realities of her world so sharply turned into turmoil. She quickly fell back asleep again, enjoying the void where there was no memory or pain. Sleep was welcome and wonderful to her now and she didn't wake up until Arthur roused her when he came home.
~ "Did you have a good rest?" he whispered as he sat on the edge of her bed.
Ariadne's body hurt from her day of sleeping, but she managed to nod.
Her husband looked his normal, always put together, self. By contrast, she was a wreck in her wrinkled night dress, messed up hair that was too short, and her worn and tired face.
It annoyed her even more when Arthur put his large hand to her cheek. His fingers grazing her skin as though he thought her face was a work of art.
"I look horrible." she said feeling herself blush. His eyes were drinking in every facet of her and she knew, as surely as she knew anything else, that he loved her.
"I've brought you something." he whispered as she sat up in bed and clutched the bedding closer to her her body. She was a good girl and, even in her husband's presence, it wouldn't do to not cover up.
He shifted on her little bed and picked up a brown paper bag.
"I know it's premature, but I couldn't help myself. There was this display window on my way home from work." he said as she gingerly took the carrier bag from him.
She was almost afraid to touch it. A part of her feeling like she wasn't a good wife, and she wouldn't be a good mother. She didn't deserve presents or the love of a husband like him.
"What is it?" she asked as she tried not to sound afraid.
"Open it." he teased.
She carefully, carefully pulled back the white tissue paper in the bag and pulled out a pair dainty little shoes. They were adorably small and made of real leather. The lacings were pink and had shinny fittings of silver in the detailing. They were not meant for any doll or child who could walk, clearly they were made as decoration for a new baby girl.
"Arthur." Ariadne wanted to cry as her heart broke a little at the sight. They were so small and perfect, she hardly had words for how much she loved them. They were her favorite thing in the world just now.
"I know it's too soon to buy things." he said. "We don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet." he added.
She turned the little shoes over in her hands and inspected the well made leather and the tiny pink bows. It was the bows that made her want to cry all over again, but not from sadness.
"The boys shoes were too boring and... I don't know, I just had to get these." he laughed at himself.
She said nothing as her heart felt a little lighter. As if some kind of happiness and hope had infused itself into her blood.
"You know, when my brother died last year, it took me a long time to feel any kind of joy. He was my rock. When we were growing up, our dad was working all the time, mother was sick with the TB and my brother took care of me. I was this scrawny little kid and I admired him so much. Everyone loved him, and when mother and father passed, all I had for family was him. Now, he's gone to and I'm just glad that I have another chance at a family." he said.
Ariadne looked up at her husband in shock. She knew he had a brother who had passed away, but that was before they even met and she had never heard him talk like this before.
She wasn't sure what to say, so she kept quite and let him talk.
"I know," he sighed and they looked at the shoes instead of one another. "I know I haven't been an ideal husband to you. I work too much, and I don't try to understand what you're feeling. I know you're mad at me a lot of times..." he shook his head. "But I want this baby to keep us together. I want my family back. I just... I think it's what's been missing in our lives."
She wanted to tell him a baby wouldn't solve anything, but make things worse, but instead, bit hard on her lower lip.
"I know that we'll love this child. I know that things will get better now." he said.
She rubbed her fingers over the fine leather.
"What if they don't?" she asked in a small, frightened voice.
Arthur looked perplexed.
"What if I'm not a good mother?" she asked. "You don't know how hard babies can be, Arthur."
Her husband looked back at her. His brow furrowed as if he were confused.
"I'm not ready to be a mother." she sighed. "And I heard what you and that doctor were saying in the hall. I'm not insane for wanting to be treated like an equal and wanting the vote. That's what's important to me. If you really loved me, instead of loving this idea of what you think a wife would be, you'd know that."
She put the shoes carefully back into the bag and climbed out of bed. Her body fully awake now as her blood coursed hot and angry.
"The vote." he sighed and stood up. "I won't have anymore of that suffrage nonsense in this house. We will not have our daughter exposed to ideas that will ruin her in society."
"Daughter?" she laughed manically. "If we even have a daughter, that's who all this will be for!"
"Mrs. Brandon!" Arthur said scornfully. "Calm yourself!"
"I won't!" she said sharply. "You want me to be this wife I can't possibly be, and now you think that just because you've put we with child, I'll have to conform to you and your ideas!"
"I'm going to bed. You need to rest to. This fighting isn't good for the child." he said and started towards the door.
"DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME!" she suddenly cried.
She didn't want him to leave. If he was the one who left, that meant he won the fight, and she wasn't ready to lose this battle.
"You're pregnant and I won't have you upset." Arthur said calmly.
"I'm already upset. I'm not going to any asylum for being a free thinker!" she said bitterly.
"I would never put you there!" Arthur snapped back.
"Yes you would!" she started to cry.
Ashamed, she put her hands to cover her mouth as her face no doubt looked horrid with her overpowering urge to weep coming over her.
"I'm not a good wife." she sobbed. "I'm not normal and I don't deserve anything!"
Like a pitiable child, she spiraled into a feeling of self loathing that couldn't be helped.
"You're upset right now." he said as she cried. He didn't move to comfort her, or ask try to tell her anything of solace.
Her sorrow quickly transformed into anger at the thought he wasn't going to at least say a kind word.
He was turning to leave when her anger sparked agin.
"NO!" she shouted and, without thinking, she grabbed hold of the blue and white vase that stood on a little pedestal in her room.
She threw it at him with all her might and Arthur, his body quick and agile, ducked just in time.
He stood up strait as she looked for something else to throw at him.
Her eyes falling on her hair brush this time.
Like some sort of dance, he was quickly on her. His hands covering her wrists as he pulled her to him.
"Stop it." he said calmly.
She tried to push him away, but he was so much stronger than she was. His lean body deceptive to how much power lurked there.
He remained rooted to the floor. His body immovable as she struggled to free herself.
"Stop." he whispered in her ear as she started hitting his chest. Her feeble hands not injuring him in the slightest.
She tired once more to push him, when he suddenly had enough.
"Mrs. Brandon." he said in his calm and dangerous voice. "Go to my bedroom."