Part 17 (2/2)
”Worse than that,” Amanda said. ”Mother, could you get me some clothes? I seem to have... well, lost mine.”
”I would be glad to, dear,” Grace said and left the room. Moments later she was outside in the darkness of the trees, a dress over her arm. ”That dragon, Mrs. Gunston, was hovering about your room. I had to sneak past her.”
”She is a bit of a dragon, isn't she?” Amanda said, staying in the shadows so her mother couldn't see the extent of her nudity.
”Would you like to tell me why you've come home wearing only a man's s.h.i.+rt? It wouldn't by chance be Dr. Montgomery's s.h.i.+rt, would it?”
Amanda didn't want to answer her mother. She just wanted to go to her room and be safe.
Grace watched her daughter for a while then smiled. ”Whenever you want to tell me what happened, I'll be here to listen.”
Amanda nodded. She was afraid she might cry if she started to talk. They walked together into the house. Taylor was standing at the head of the stairs, as if he were waiting for Amanda. He was formidably tall, his face as dark as a thundercloud.
”You are very late, Amanda,” he said.
”And very tired,” she answered.
”You are to come to the library. I want to talk to you. There was an exorbitant bill sent here today for sandwiches. You must explain yourself. And also explain why your hair is down.”
Amanda couldn't bear any more. ”I am too tired to go to the library, and the bill for the sandwiches can be taken out of the money that's been saved over the years from all the meals I've missed. Now, please excuse me, I am going to bed.”
Amanda was too tired to think how revolutionary her words were.
Behind her she left a stunned Taylor and a mother who was smiling broadly. Once inside her room, she pulled off her dress and hose and fell into bed, not bothering to put on her nightgown.
Mrs. Gunston gave her usual quick knock the next morning and walked into Amanda's bedroom. The room was a mess; clothes on the floor, shoes kicked into far corners, hose draped on a chair. The bedclothes were half on the floor, and sprawled in the middle of the bed was a nude Amanda, on her stomach, one foot hanging over the side.
For a moment Mrs. Gunston was too astonished to speak. ”Get up from there!” she shouted at last. ”How dare you throw your clothes about? How dare you-”
”Go away!” Amanda said angrily, turning over, the sheet pulled across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”Go on, get out of here, and tell Martha to bring me some coffee. Strong coffee.”
Mrs. Gunston obeyed.
Amanda sat up and put her hand to her head. It was aching, and the woman's shrill voice hadn't helped any. She looked up to see Taylor standing in her doorway. Now he comes to my bedroom, she thought. Not when she begged him to pay attention to her, but now when another man had... had touched her.
”I do not like this,” Taylor said. ”Ladies do not shout.”
Amanda at last saw some interest in his eyes as she sat in her bed with just a sheet under her arms. And something about his interest made her a little sick. ”I need to dress to go to work. Would you mind closing the door?”
Taylor stepped further into the room. ”Amanda, I cannot allow you to go back to that place today. The chauffeur said it was full of filthy people.”
”The chauffeur's name is James and yes they are filthy people, but it's because they have no money-or food or a place to sleep.”
”Amanda,” Taylor said firmly, ”I forbid you to go. Last night you looked as disreputable as one of the field workers, and this morning-” He broke off and stared at her.
”And this morning, what? This morning I don't look like your pupil? Oh, Taylor, please go before we have a fight. I must get dressed, and please don't say you forbid me to go because then I'll have to defy you. Wait until the hops are in, when everyone is gone, then we'll talk again, but please don't make me say something now that I'll regret later.”
Taylor didn't seem to know what to say as he backed out of the room and closed the door.
Amanda leaned back against the headboard. It was as if another person were inside her body. She'd yelled at Mrs. Gunston, who'd always terrified her, and told Taylor she was not going to do what he told her to do.
She reached over to her desk and there lay a new schedule, freshly made out by Taylor. Right now she was supposed to be downstairs wearing her pink-and-white-striped silk that made her look as if she were eight years old and eating two poached eggs and one piece of dry toast.
She tossed the schedule back on the desk. It seemed so frivolous to stay here studying when so many people needed help. Frivolous, she thought, a word she'd often used to describe Hank.
”Hank,” she said aloud, trying it on for size. It didn't seem to suit him. It was too new, too modern, too unromantic. What was the name on his books? She took one out of the bookshelf beside the bed and opened to the copyright page. Dr. Henry Raine Montgomery.
”Raine,” she whispered. It sounded like a knight of old, a strong, virile man who might fight for the common people. Raine, she thought, Sir Raine. Better yet, Lord Raine.
She got out of bed, scratching and yawning, and put on a blue suit. It was too dark, too severe for her taste, and she thought that today she might stop by her dressmaker's and choose a few new pieces of clothing, something Raine, er, ah, Hank might like.
She went to the bathroom-at the wrong time according to today's schedule-and on impulse, knocked on the door to the room where her mother spent her days and invited her mother to breakfast. ”Father eats about this time. Perhaps we can eat together, just the three of us.”
”Like we used to, before-” Grace said but broke off. She didn't need to add, before Taylor came.
It was a pleasant breakfast, and Amanda didn't say much as her parents seemed to have hours' worth to say to each other. Amanda occupied herself with thoughts of last night. Perhaps she'd been hasty in her judgments; maybe Raine-she meant Hank-did want her. Maybe she wasn't just another woman to him.
With her mind occupied, she bid her parents goodbye, unaware of how different she seemed with every step. Taylor was waiting for her by the car and she braced herself for the coming argument.
”I would like to ask you not to go,” he said softly.
”I'm needed there,” she answered.
”And you're needed here.”
”Here no one knows I'm alive. I stay in my room all day with my books and papers. I've hardly seen my own parents in years. Please don't make this harder for me, Taylor. I want to feel that I'm useful to someone.”
Taylor put his hands on her upper arms. ”You are useful to me,” he said, and there was desperation in his voice.
Amanda almost said she'd stay with him but the memory of the hungry children stopped her. If she could help them in any way, she was going to do it. ”It's just until the hops are in,” she said. ”I want to help see that there is a peaceful unionization.”
”Unions!” he said, dropping his hands, the pleading look leaving his eyes. ”You don't know what you're talking about. Those people want to take the food out of our mouths. They want-”
”So you beat them to it, is that it? You take their food first, before they can do it to you? Oh, Taylor, come with me. See these people. They aren't thieves. They're just-”
He took a step away from her. ”You forget that I've run the harvest for eight years with your father. I've seen them. They're filthy-”
”Good day, Taylor,” she said and walked away from him.
On the drive into town, her mind seemed to whirl with a thousand conflicting thoughts. So much had happened to her in the last few weeks. Before Dr. Montgomery came she was content and happy, and now everything was confused. She didn't know if Taylor was her teacher, the man she loved or her enemy. And Dr. Montgomery! Lover? Friend? Teacher? Enemy?
It was already chaos at the union headquarters. Joe told her the mess was her fault because they'd heard free food was being pa.s.sed out. He didn't trust Amanda because she was a Caulden and he let her know it.
Amanda went up the stairs to the room that she'd shared yesterday with Dr. Montgomery. In spite of telling herself that yesterday meant nothing, her heart was pounding as she reached the doorway.
The man who'd made love to her last night was holding Reva Eiler in his arms and kissing her.
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