Illusion. Emily French
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broaden in a smile at the slightest provocation. He found himself staring at those lips, waiting.
Sophy clasped her hands together, as they went up instinctively to quell the tumult in her breast. Something flickered in the pools of his eyes, and she felt some of her apprehension dissipate. She smiled, and once more that magical transformation took place, giving her face light and warmth. It was as if the sun had come out.
“Isn’t it splendid? Uncle Heinrich, Cousin Pieter and Cousin Bernard called, in this weather, too, to see how we have settled in. They are to stay for dinner.”
Seth started, his eyes slanting to the van Houten brothers. He shifted a cramped knee, and the preoccupied expression left his face.
“Hello, sir.” He held out his hand, with a brief flash of the smile that Sophy so longed to see. “Pieter.”
His grip appeared strong and confident, but tonight the poor man looked worn-out. He moved with a queer jerking motion as if he were manipulated by strings. Sophy longed to ease his suffering.
The warmth was still in his countenance when he greeted the younger sibling. “How are your designs for a steam engine that runs on roads coming along, Bernard?”
Despite his harsh appearance, Seth had the gift of inspiring confidence. The boy’s ruddy complexion deepened a shade. At fourteen, Bernard van Houten retained the snub nose and the chubbiness of youth, but his mouth and chin were determined to the point of obstinacy, and he had the same direct gaze that characterized his cousin.
“I am working on a prototype using compressed air, piston rods and valve gears.” A thought occurred to him. “Have you seen the hydraulic elevator that Mar. Otis has constructed at Haughwout’sDepartment Store?”
“No, but if you would care to come down to the plant room at Weston’s Textiles, you can inspect our new rotary engine; which is driven by gears.” Seth’s eyes, alight with unholy amusement, met Sophy’s. “If she has nothing better to do, I am sure Sophy would love to accompany you.”
He was speaking lightly, but there was something in the look of his eyes that made Sophy uncomfortable, and she felt a sudden sense of relief when dinner was announced.
A few minutes later, a large uncovered dish was placed in front of Seth. He blinked at the huge crusty pie filled with chunks of beef and redolent of fresh vegetables and herbs.
Sophy’s spirits soared, and her eyes danced as his gaze followed the dish of potatoes mashed with butter, cream, sautéed cabbage and a sprinkle of chopped young onions, which the maid placed in front of her.
“One of the reasons I called so late, Sophy, was because I knew you would invite me to a meal,” Pieter confessed, accepting a good-size portion of pie on his plate.
“Good management of a household leads to domestic happiness.” Heinrich’s voice carried its own conviction. “Sophy was never interested in sensible things like crewelwork and watercolor painting or the pianoforte, so we were relieved when she made friends with Marcel and learned to cook.”
“Much better than stuffing her head with all that mathematics, politics and financial knowledge, which is neither attractive nor necessary in a woman,” Pieter teased, with considerable glee.
Bernard simply enjoyed the food. It was, after all, no use trying to slip the least word into the conversation with Sophy and Pieter becoming immersed in one of their endless arguments on women’s rights.
Sophy glanced at Seth, who had a mouthful of pie and was chewing with enjoyment. He was satisfyingly engrossed in the meal. There was no reason to dissemble, so she took up her cousin’s taunt, a fire of righteous indignation heating her words.
“Don’t be so idiotic, Pieter. The winds of change are already blowing. It won’t be long before women take their rightful place in society.”
The suppressed fierceness in her voice caught at Seth. He looked up, met her misty gaze. She stared at him as if they shared an immediate, unspoken secret. It was a spark, like the new electricity he had seen demonstrated once, a spark that jumped the space from wire tip to wire tip.
For a moment something very soft and vulnerable flickered across his face before a ghost of a smile creased his cheek. Tonight, sentiment betrayed him. Sophy. Her laughter compelled him to share it. Her glance compelled his to meet it.
Pieter grinned at his cousin, his eyes challenging. “Women are all fools, even the smart ones. No, especially the smart ones. They are so determined on outmaneuvering their men that they cause themselves, and everyone else, endless trouble.”
The spell broken, Seth returned his attention to his laden plate.
“How can you say that?” Sophy demanded. “Women react as they do because men give women indulgence as a substitute for justice. I tell you it is not good enough!”
Seth found himself at once irritated and bemused by his wife’s philosophy. Because she used her tongue as a weapon? Because there was an element of truth in her assertion? Perhaps because of the deeper truth, that no man can entirely relinquish all remnants of his own masculinity.
Catching Bernard’s eye, Seth gave him a conspiratorial smile and put a forefinger to his lips. “Why not?” His tone was one of innocent inquiry.
Surprise flashed across Heinrich’s face, and he practically choked on a piece of asparagus.
“Why not?” Sophy tried to restrain her sudden surge of annoyance, failed and launched into her argument. “A woman’s entire future depends on her husband!”
Seth’s eyes, which had been communicating with Pieter’s over the top of her head, came back to her. What a little firebrand she was, so easily touched to the quick, changeable, lashing out. Never lose your advantage. Of course, the colonel had been talking of the battlefield, but the advice was apt here.
“Just as it should be. How else are we to keep our wives in their place? If this idea of universal suffrage gets out of hand, we’ll find women dictating terms to us, and what will happen then?”
“Anarchy and revolution!” Pieter contributed.
“Can you imagine it?” Seth murmured, with an air of masculine amazement that set Sophy’s teeth on edge.
Pieter drained his wine and announced in sepulchral tones, “This movement must be nipped in the bud.”
“Just think what would happen if women were entitled to vote? The infection would spread. Next they’d be wanting to become doctors and lawyers!” added Bernard with enthusiasm.
Sophy, seeing him seething with barely suppressed delight at the gathering dispute, felt decidedly annoyed. Bernard was too young to have any opinions on the matter. And, if he did, he was young enough to change. It would be one of her projects.
“But that is iniquitous! It leaves women with no choice, no pride, no...” She trailed off, realizing she was being baited.
A serene smile touched her lips. “Odious creatures. Do not tempt me into an argument. You promised, Cousins, if I fed you, not to mention universal suffrage or discuss the role of women.”
Seth caught the tranquil smile, and his heart leaped. Perhaps he had been mistaken. Perhaps seeing her in Greene Street had been a figment of his imagination. The mask of politeness that had been clamped down upon his face suddenly split into fragments, and he laughed.
“Promises and piecrusts are made to be broken.”
This time, everybody laughed.
“Isn’t Sophy an angel to put steamed fruit dumpling on the menu?” Bernard appealed to Seth a little later, licking the last dollop of cream from his spoon.
“A veritable angel indeed,” Seth agreed, turning to Sophy, watching the mobile curve of her mouth.
All his doubts came rushing forth, sucked back by memory. The inconceivable happened. The words that had plagued him for hours in his mind sprang from his lips.