Page 53 of Just Imagine
Now she was more certain than ever that she wanted to marry Brandon. He was everything a woman could want in a husband.
He made her put on her hat so she wouldn’t get sunburned and gently chastised her for forgetting her gloves. As he fussed over her, she smiled and flirted, playing the Southern belle to perfection.
She reminded herself that he was accustomed to a different sort of woman, one who was quiet and retiring like his mother and his sisters, and she tried to restrain her normally impulsive tongue. Still, she managed to shock him with her opinions about Negro suffrage and the Fifteenth Amendment. As two small furrows etched themselves between his eyes, she knew she had to make him understand.
“Brandon, I’m a well-educated woman. I have opinions and ideas. I’ve also been on my own for a long time. I can’t be what I’m not.”
His smile didn’t quite erase the furrows. “Your independence is one of the things I most admire about you, but it’s going to take a while for me to get used to it. You’re not like the other women I know.”
“And do you know a lot of women?” she teased.
Her question made him laugh. “Kit Weston, you’re a minx.”
Their conversation on the ride back to Risen Glory was a happy combination of gossip and reminiscences. She promised to go on a picnic with him and let him escort her to church on Sunday. As she stood on the porch and waved good-bye, she decided that, all in all, the day had gone well.
Unfortunately, the evening did not.
Miss Dolly waylaid her before dinner. “I need your sweet young eyes to sort through my button box. I have a pretty mother-of-pearl in there somewhere, and I simply must find it.”
Kit did as she was asked, even though she needed a few minutes alone. The sorting was accompanied by chatter, twittering, and fluttering. Kit learned which buttons had been sewn on which dresses, where the garments had been worn and with whom, what the weather had been like on that particular day, as well as what Miss Dolly had eaten.
At dinner, Miss Dolly requested that all the windows be closed, despite the fact that the evening was warm, because she’d heard rumors of a diphtheria outbreak in Charleston. Cain managed Miss Dolly well and the windows remained open, but he ignored Kit until dessert.
“I hope Lady behaved for you today,” he finally said. “The poor horse looked terrified when you marched toward her with all those skirts on. I think she was afraid you’d suffocate her.”
“You’re not nearly as amusing as you seem to think. My riding habit is the height of fashion.”
“And you hate wearing it. Not that I blame you. Those things should be outlawed.”
Her opinion exactly. “Nonsense. They’re very comfortable. And a lady always likes to look her best.”
“Is it just my imagination, or does your accent get thicker whenever you want to irritate me?”
“ ’Deed I hope not, Major. That would be most impolite of me. Besides, you’re in South Carolina now, so you’re the one with the accent.”
He smiled. “Point taken. And did you enjoy your ride?”
“I had a wonderful time. There aren’t many gentlemen as pleasant to be with as Mr. Parsell.”
His smile faded. “And where did you and Mr. Parsell ride?”
“To Holly Grove, his old home. We enjoyed catching up on old times.”
“That’s all you did?” he asked pointedly.
“Yes, it’s all,” she retorted. “Not every man’s interests when they’re with young women are as narrow as yours.”
Miss Dolly frowned at the sharpness in Kit’s voice. “You’re dawdlin’ over your dessert, Katharine Louise. If you’re finished, let’s go to the sitting room and leave the general to his cigar.”
Kit was enjoying irritating Cain too much to leave. “I’m not quite finished yet, Miss Dolly. Why don’t you go? I don’t mind the smell of cigar smoke.”
“Well, if you don’t mind . . .” Miss Dolly set her napkin on the table and rose, then stood at her chair as if she were gathering her courage. “Now, watch your manners, darlin’. I know you don’t mean anything by it, but sometimes you seem a bit sharp when you speak to the general. You mustn’t let your natural high spirits keep you from giving him his proper respect.” Her duty done, she fluttered from the room.
Cain looked after her with some amusement. “I must admit, Miss Dolly’s beginning to grow on me.”
“You’re really a terrible person, do you know that?”
“I admit I’m no Brandon Parsell.”
