A Headstrong Woman(78)


“I think you are. You have more energy and drive than some men I’ve met, that doesn’t make you any less of a woman, Alexandria.”

“Others seem to think so,” Alexandria sighed. “I should learn an instrument…did that, not overly well granted. I should learn needlepoint or sewing…did that. I should learn to cook and manage servants…learned to cook from my mother, learned to manage servants from Elijah. I should be seen and not heard unless it’s an appropriate forum for women. I should take delicate steps; catch a husband, raise babies and think of…” Alexandria, humiliated by what she’d almost said, stopped short.

Jonathon was laughing across from her.

“London?”

“Jonathon!”

“You started it,” he reminded her.

“You finished it! This is not an appropriate conversation.”

“You weren’t raised that way were you?”

“No.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Really, Jonathon, this conversation has gone far enough,” she muttered.

“Don’t get all prim on me now, Alexandria, it doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not getting prim on you. This really isn’t an appropriate conversation.” Had he been able to see her he would have found her cheeks a deep shade of scarlet.

“Why? Emotions and feelings aren’t wrong, it’s how we handle what we feel that is right or wrong. Intimacy belongs in marriage, I don’t want you to get what I’m saying wrong, but I am tired of it being approached like a dirty thing. Marriage is supposed to be a mutual giving and taking. Women shouldn’t be taught that men have baser instincts and that nice girls don’t think that way, it’s nonsense,” Jonathon said rather passionately.

“You’re very forward thinking,” she was trying hard not to show how embarrassed she was. She didn’t want him to know just how inexperienced she really was in such things.

“I’m sorry, Alexandria. Emily was raised that way and it took her the first two years of our marriage to come to grips with that. It’s a huge injustice when we teach women to think that way.”

“I’ll make certain not to scar Lilly,” her tone was somewhat amused.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jonathon chuckled.

“I’m sorry, Jonathon.”

“I bet you are.”

“I am,” she laughed.

“Are you looking forward to the picnic tomorrow?” Jonathon changed the subject to safer ground.

Alexandria slowly shook her head. “No, not really, I’ll feel terrible in my widow’s weeds among all those beautifully dressed women.”

“So wear something else,” he suggested.

“I can’t,” she sighed.

“Why not? Everyone knows how things really were, Alexandria, at least most do, and this isn’t exactly the east coast.”

“I can’t,” she reiterated. “And even if I did…”

“You have one of the worst inferiority complexes I’ve ever seen,” Jonathon informed her. “Just what is so ugly about you?”

“I didn’t say that I’m ugly, I’m just not as pretty and feminine as the other…”

“But you are, Alexandria; more so!” Jonathon insisted.

Alexandria sighed and stood to turn and look toward the silver mountains in the distance. She appreciated his attempt to cheer her but the mirror told her otherwise. “Jonathon, you’re a good friend and your opinion of me is colored by that I’m sure.”

Jonathon stood and moved to stand behind her. Alexandria turned to face him, her back now to the corner post.

“Alexandria, I am your friend, in fact, you may be the best friend I’ve got right now and I’m sure that affects my overall opinion of you, but may I remind you that I am also a man and as such an expert on what’s pretty and what isn’t.”

“An expert?” Alexandria laughed.

“Yes. You’re beautiful; Alexandria, from your green eyes and beautiful face to your small waist, slim hips, and impossibly long legs. Didn’t know I’d noticed?” he took in her wide eyes and surprised face. “I have, it’s kind of hard not to, Alexandria.”

Alexandria swallowed hard. This was the first time in her life that she had felt small and feminine.

“Graceful, that’s what comes to mind when I watch you,” he commented, though whether to her or himself he couldn’t have said.

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