Written on the Wind (The Blackstone Legacy #2)(19)
“Yes, but white connotes purity, and people will talk.”
Poppy’s comment was ridiculous, but Patrick took it in stride, his Irish accent teasingly affectionate.
“Gwen could walk down the aisle in bare feet and a potato sack, and she would still be the most beautiful woman in the church.”
Natalia kept her tone practical as she said, “If you opt for a potato sack, please let me know in advance so I can invest in potato futures. A dress like that will make prices soar.”
Silence hung in the air for a moment before everyone broke into peals of laughter. Sometimes people didn’t know when she was joking. True, she tended to keep to herself, but maybe it was time for that to change. Tonight had been wonderful. For too long, her only real friend was a man who lived six thousand miles away and whose face she didn’t even know.
Liam wasn’t the first person to accuse her of having no life outside of the bank. Perhaps it was time she learned to relax and have a bit of frivolous fun.
The next morning, Natalia sat with her father on the enclosed back porch overlooking the lake. With its wall of windows and rustic décor, it was the most casual room in the house. The wicker furniture, mismatched pillows, and an old cuckoo clock made it feel a thousand miles away from New York City.
A pair of her elderly great-aunts joined them for tea and reading, but everyone else was down on the shore, watching the battle between Patrick and Liam in a rowing contest. Each were in their own canoe and charged with rowing a lady of their choice to the opposite shore and back. Patrick was paired with Gwen, and Liam had wanted to row Natalia, but she declined, so he’d been stuck with Poppy instead.
It looked fun, but reading the morning newspapers was essential for keeping abreast of the business world. Natalia tried to concentrate on an article about inflation rates, but dull cheers from outside distracted her. It looked like both canoes had reached the other side of the lake and were on the way back. Patrick was a few boat lengths ahead of Liam, but that could change.
A smile tugged at her mouth as she watched. Maybe she should have joined them after all.
Her father tipped the edge of his newspaper down to look at Aunt Martha. “It says here a developer has bought the old schooner yard. Isn’t that where you worked during the war?”
Aunt Martha nodded. “It was a terrible place, but I don’t regret my time there.”
Natalia had grown up hearing about Great-Aunt Martha’s volunteer work during the Civil War. Thousands of Confederate prisoners had been shipped north despite the lack of adequate housing, and men fell sick with all manner of diseases. Martha wasn’t a nurse, but she could write letters and bathe the sick. She eventually caught cholera and might have died, but once she recovered, she went straight back to tending the soldiers.
“I still can’t believe you squandered so many years in that awful place,” Aunt Helen said, her palsied hands trembling as she poured another cup of tea.
“Everyone warned me against it,” Martha admitted. “When I got cholera, I wondered if they were right. It was awful, but I survived, and so did countless men I tended.” She brightened. “Did you know I had a letter from one of them a few years back? He built a pencil factory in Atlanta and has twelve employees.”
Aunt Helen rolled her eyes, but Natalia beamed. A woman could make a difference in the world. A pencil factory didn’t sound very glamorous, but twelve people owed their livelihood to the man whose life Aunt Martha helped save.
Aunt Martha deserved to be proud of her service during the war, just as Natalia was proud of her work on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Millions of people would benefit from the railroad, but she liked to imagine a young girl on some isolated farm in central Russia whose life was confined to the windswept plains. The railroad was going to change that young girl’s world. Natalia would never see that girl or know her name, but it didn’t matter. She knew that girl existed. Hundreds—no, thousands of girls like that would benefit from the railroad.
A round of cheers came from outside, where Liam and Patrick had arrived back at shore. Gwen and Poppy were now setting up a game of pin the tail on the donkey.
The trip here had been fun, but like Aunt Martha, Natalia wanted a life of accomplishment, not rowing contests or party games. A mound of unfinished work awaited her at the office, and she stood to give her father a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m heading back to town early,” she said. “Construction problems in Russia need me to reevaluate some schedules.”
Oscar looked surprised but not disapproving. “Best get on it, then.”
“All work and no play makes for a dull young lady.” Liam’s teasing voice taunted her during the ride back to the city. Was there a middle ground between a life of single-minded purpose and one of pointless leisure like Poppy embraced? If so, Natalia hadn’t found it yet.
10
The blades of the sledge made a whispery rasp as they cut across the ice-encrusted snow. That and the clomping of the pony’s hooves were the only sounds Dimitri had heard for hours because he and Temujin were both too miserable to talk. It took too much energy.
Dimitri’s hands and feet were numb, but he shifted from side to side, gently stamping his feet, praying it would be enough to keep his circulation moving and frostbite at bay. He’d been standing on this sledge for ten hours, but the nights were long now, lasting almost fifteen hours. The pony couldn’t pull a sledge that long, and it was time to head into the forest for a rest.