Natasha's Dream Read online

  The holidays were over all too soon. Before long they stood on the train platform preparing to leave. Stewart embraced his parents and kissed his momma’s cheek. Mrs. Donovan handed him a bag of goodies before he followed Natasha onto the train.

  * * *

  After finishing her last class, Natasha walked briskly across the courtyard. She entered the round library building. Scanning the interior, there was no sign of Stewart. A number of students were chatting by a shelf of books. One friend from her history class called her name. After a few minutes of casual conversation she left the building to search for Stewart. As expected, he was under the oak tree with a textbook on his lap. The slight breeze was welcome as she walked toward him and sat down by his side.

  “I no longer question why you come here. The air is delightful.”

  “I felt confined in the stuffy buildings.”

  “This arrived this afternoon,” she informed him, showing the paper. “A letter from Mother. She and Father will be away during our school break.”

  “Are they requesting you join them?” Stewart set his book on the grass.

  Unable to help herself, Natasha chuckled. Stewart did not.

  “My apologies if I offended you. Mother is attempting to keep me informed of their schedule, not telling me that they will miss me.”

  “In all our years together you have never spoken of your parents with fondness. You have spoken fondly of your brothers and Nanny, but never of your parents. Do you not wish to travel with them?”

  “Never,” she responded, finding the idea preposterous. She gripped the paper, twisting it in her fingers. “I don’t wish to spend any time with them. Father never wanted me.”

  “Natasha, you’re mistaken. You’re their daughter.”

  Looking at Stewart she attempted a smile. She set the crumpled paper on the grass, away from his reach. It was impossible to explain her upbringing without telling him the truth of her heritage, something she refused to do. At a young age she was made painfully aware that her father preferred his sons and grew to accept it. Natasha was grateful to have Nanny in her life, the only adult who truly cared about her well-being. Although her mother made feeble attempts at stilted affection, she remained distant from her only daughter. As if I were a great disappointment to her.

  “Allow me to give you a fact.” She sat upright. “When I was but a young child, Father would call me Nathan in error. One day, I inquired why.” The memories flooded her mind and heart as if the conversation had just taken place. She refused to allow her father to cause more tears. Unable to mask her pain, she closed her eyes and struggled to retain her composure. To be strong. Her father could control her life but not her emotions. Nor her self-respect. He will not win. Natasha opened her eyes, staring ahead with a cold, glassy gaze. “I will never forget the day as long as I breathe,” she continued in an emotionless tone. “Father looked up from his newspaper and bluntly told me in a cold, flat tone, ‘You were to be our third son, Nathan.’ He put his head down and continued reading his paper. My heart broke. Father never looked my way, nor did Mother attempt to comfort me. There is no denying. I wasn’t wanted.”

  “Oh, my,” he moaned.

  “I said my prayers every night, begging God to change me into a little boy that could be loved. A younger brother who could play with the twins. Father wanted another son, not a useless daughter.” Her voice cracked. Embarrassed, she turned her head away. Be strong, she reminded herself. “From that day on I buried myself in my studies. Many nights I cried myself to sleep, but I don’t care anymore,” she lied.

  “I cannot imagine the pain you experienced at such a young age. How is it possible for a poppa to be so cruel? That was inexcusable.”

  “I hate him.”

  Her voice was ice cold. Colder than she intended. Over the years she blocked the memory from her mind. Enough tears had been shed. She had become stronger, no longer that impressionable child. Now, finally speaking openly about it, it still hurt. Not wishing to appear weak in Stewart’s company, she shifted her body to hide her watering eyes. The sound of Stewart’s voice brought her back to reality.

  “Where were your brothers? Where was Nanny? Did they not speak up?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and sympathetic.

  “The twins were within sight, but playing, and Nanny was inside. I’ve never spoken of that day.”

  “Your momma was present. Did she not condemn your poppa?” Stewart asked. “My momma would have been livid to hear a stranger speak to a child in such a fashion, let alone her husband.”

  Natasha wiped the tears from her face and turned to Stewart.

  “Mother would not speak. She would never question his authority. You have a momma, Stewart. I have a mother. The dutiful wife. She gave birth to two sons to carry on—” Natasha closed her mouth, furious at her own stupidity. She had almost spoken of her family and their position in society. “And then she made a grave error giving birth to a daughter,” she continued. “In my heart, I believe Mother tries, but she is just not capable of showing emotion. It would have meant the world to me, just once, to hear her say, ‘I love you,’ or ‘I am proud of you.’ I no longer attempt to please either Mother or Father. I detest the idea of spending time in their company.”

  It hurt to think of them, to speak of them. There was nothing pleasant in her memory that concerned them. Why did the topic evoke emotions? Unable to stop the tears, she turned her head and wiped her cheeks for the second time.

  “Please, I beg of you. Stop saying you wish to make their acquaintance,” she sobbed. “I have two brothers and was raised by a governess. In my heart, I do not have parents.”

  Feeling the warmth of Stewart’s arms come around her, she broke down and sobbed.

  “You are loved,” he whispered.

  Thankfully, they were alone. She rested her head against his chest and cried.

  “I will never speak of them again,” he promised.

  Natasha woke early after a restless night, took out her diary, and began writing.

  Dear Diary,

  I cried in his arms….

  Chapter Seventeen

  Stewart’s face brightened like the morning sun when Natasha agreed to accompany him home for the spring break. Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm when she accepted his invitation. While at his family home, Natasha’s culinary skills improved. They enjoyed long romantic walks.

  As the end of the week neared, Natasha was asked to prepare the meal. His momma would be by her side to guide and assist. To celebrate the achievement his poppa opened a bottle of wine. Natasha had her first taste of alcohol.

  Stewart thought it was comical when she giggled throughout the meal. Finished dining, the family retreated to the parlour. Natasha fell asleep on the sofa as Stewart and his parents talked.

  “The poor dear,” his momma sympathized. “Her poor neck is bent. That cannot be comfortable.”

  Stewart lifted her into his arms and carried her to his sister’s bedroom. Goldie remained a pace behind. Placing Natasha on the bed, he covered her with a blanket before kissing her cheek.

  “Sleep, my darling Natasha. Sweet dreams,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek again and turned his attention to the dog. “It’s too early for you Goldie. You will need out again tonight. Come.”

  Stewart closed the door, returned to the parlour, and sat on the sofa.

  “I was hoping for the opportunity to speak in private,” he began. “I should think it’s quite obvious that I’ve fallen in love with Natasha.”

  “I never would have suspected,” his poppa replied.

  “Do not mock him. We’re so pleased for you, my dear.”

  “Natasha has claimed my affection and stolen my heart. I cannot imagine life without her. I plan to marry her.”

  The grin on his momma’s face couldn’t be larger. She beamed with pride. His poppa stood and embraced him.

  “We are very fond of Natasha. You have chosen well, son,” he commended.

  Stewart return
ed to his seat and waited for his parents to settle across from him.

  “I intend to ask Natasha to be my wife when we return to the school. I have the perfect location in my mind.”

  “You don’t plan to wait until you graduate?” his momma asked.

  “Stewart, is there a reason you’re not waiting?” his poppa asked. “Have you shared a bed?”

  “No-o-o,” Stewart responded. His face burned. “We have not. You raised a gentleman. With Natasha graduating, I want her to know my intentions before she begins planning her future.”

  “You’re not planning a long engagement?” he asked.

  “I am not.”

  “Your momma and I will continue to finance your education, Stewart, but—”

  “I’ll get a job,” he assured them.

  “You have always maintained your grades, Stewart. I would hate to see that change.”

  “Natasha and I will discuss our plans once we are engaged. With the angels on our side, we shall persevere.”

  * * *

  Natasha woke still wearing the previous day’s attire. Unable to remember much of the previous night, she changed her clothing and opened the bedroom door. Goldie was sleeping in the hallway by the door. Natasha wandered down to the main floor with Goldie following a half-pace behind. A few memories came back to her. The wine. Too much wine. “What if I humiliated myself. Their last memory of me will be dreadful. What was I thinking?” She worked her way into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. With the steaming china cup in her hand, she sat on the sofa and waited for the family to rise.

  Stewart appeared at the doorway an hour later and joined her.

  “I’m so embarrassed, Stewart. You bring me to your home, and I have too much to drink and fall asleep. I’m humiliated, exhausted from a lack of sleep. My stomach is queasy, and I have a terrible headache.”

  “You were to become relaxed and sleep soundly through the night.”

  “That did not occur.” She put her hand on her forehead.

  “Next time we shall limit you to one glass of wine,” he teased. Stewart leaned over and kissed her temple. “Alcohol can have a rather nasty affect until you become accustomed to it.”

  Unable to imagine being so foolish on purpose, she closed her eyes, allowing her head to rest on the cushion of the sofa.

  “Never again,” she promised herself.

  “I will find some biscuits. You require food in your stomach.”

  After their noon meal, Stewart joined his poppa outside to assist with errands. Natasha settled on the sofa to rest. She was drifting off to sleep when Stewart’s voice woke her.

  “We are taking the buggy to the city. Goldie will remain at the house. Get some rest, my love, and attempt to consume some water. There is a glass on the table next to you. I love you.”

  Too tired to open her eyes, Natasha gave a slight smile, put her hand down and touched the dog for assurance.

  * * *

  Later that night, with their evening meal completed and her stomach and head much improved, Natasha suggested an evening of music. For the first dance, she asked Mr. Donovan to join her. Stewart and Mrs. Donovan danced beside them. Once the song ended they switched partners. It was a night Natasha would never forget. The overwhelming love within their home filled her heart.

  Natasha thanked his parents profusely for their hospitality, saddened by the knowledge she would never see them again. Stewart would stay in residence while he studied for his master’s. She would graduate, leave the school, and their romance would become nothing but a wonderful faded memory. Settled on the train, the mood between them was quiet. Her mind drifted to the week with his family. Stewart appeared preoccupied, deep in thought.

  Once they reached the university, Stewart carried the suitcases and followed Natasha to her building. She entered her room, waited a few minutes, and returned to the main door, waiting for Stewart to reappear. Not a word was spoken as they walked down the hallway and closed her door.

  “I heard an admission of affection while at your parents’ home.”

  “You never responded at the time. It’s pleasing to know you heard me. I love you, Natasha.”

  A warm sensation filled her entire body. The sincerity of his words touched her heart like nothing she had ever experienced. She had never thought to hear those words from a living soul. The knowledge she must end the relationship brought a bittersweet ache to her chest. She gave herself up to his passionate kiss. Now, her heart and body yearned to have his body close to her. He loves me. How can this be wrong? Just one night of passion to cherish in my memory for all eternity. There will be repercussions. I am expected to be a virgin on my wedding night. She thought for a moment. A brilliant idea came to mind. My future husband will never know. I will ensure he becomes intoxicated. He will assume the marriage was consummated. A spot of red wine on the sheets will confirm the unthinkable has occurred. Pleased, she returned his passionate kiss, clinging to him.

  “Stay with me,” she begged.

  “Natasha,” he responded. Desire and shock flitting across his face. “I cannot. We cannot.”

  “Stewart, please. No one will know. Unless of course you’re hesitant because you lack the desire to lie with me.”

  “Natasha, I don’t understand the urgency. I wish to wait until we are married.”

  Natasha shook her head. She was determined to have one night with the man she loved before he walked out of her life forever.

  “Once I graduate, you will return to university. I’ll never see you again. I beg of you, Stewart. Please.” With her hands on his shoulders she reached up and kissed him fiercely. “Allow me this experience to cherish. Please agree to lie with me. I love you, Stewart.”

  Desperate to convince him, she stretched up, opened her mouth, and kissed him. He returned her passionate kiss. Nervous, but determined, Natasha’s hands became clammy as she pulled Stewart toward her bed. He gave in to her, allowing her to guide him with ease.

  She shifted her attention from his eyes to his shirt and began undoing the buttons. Her fingers touched his bare chest. Stewart caught his breath. His trembling hands undid the remaining buttons and pulled his shirt off. His hand stroked her back, working upward toward her neck. His fingers became entwined in her hair as he pulled her head forward and kissed her once more. Natasha enjoyed the sensations, but she wanted to feel his entire body next to hers. She pulled back from the kiss and looked into his eyes.

  “Help me. Unfasten my dress.”

  She turned around. Stewart’s hand touched her back between her shoulder blades and worked their way down. She turned her head to face him as he loosened the last hook. She turned her body and then pushed the dress down, allowing it to fall to the floor. Struggling to breathe, she unfastened her undergarments. They fell onto her dress.

  Stewart’s eyes travelled from her head down to her feet and back. Their eyes locked. He undid his pants, pulled them down to his ankles and kicked them off, ensuring they were at the side of the bed.

  “I won’t be offended if you have decided to wait,” he informed her.

  “Nay, that’s not my wish, or my intent.”

  Uncomfortable with her state of undress, she stepped toward the bed, lifted the sheets and crawled under. She encouraged Stewart to join her. Within seconds, her back was arched toward him. His kisses moved down her body. The sensations she experienced were beyond anything she could have imagined.

  “Please,” she begged.

  Stewart crawled back toward her head, placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and began to guide himself into her body.

  She flinched, her body seized at the intrusion.

  “I am hurting you,” he cringed. “I shall stop.”

  “Nay,” she assured him as she tried to breathe. “I simply require a moment.”

  Natasha took a deep breath. Able to relax, she placed her hands on Stewart’s waist and pulled his body toward her. Once the initial pain was passed, her first sexual experience was incredible and memora
ble. Natasha startled herself with a squeal, never feeling more alive in her life. Exhausted, when Stewart finished, she held onto his forearms, her body entangled with his. She fell asleep with her head resting on his bare chest.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Stewart moved, waking her. She opened her eyes as he reached for the pillow. He shoved it under his head. Unable to see his entire face, she placed her palms on his chest and tilted her head, resting her chin on her hands. He opened his eyes.

  “I have yet to see eyes a more brilliant shade of blue. I find my heart fluttering.”

  Stewart ran his fingers over her lips, her cheeks, and into her ruffled hair. She chuckled.

  “Why are you laughing?” he asked.

  “For some reason that I cannot explain, my memory drifted to the day I became acquainted with Goldie and Vicki. My greatest wish once we fell on the grass was for you to kiss me. Goldie responded with a wet tongue, straight across my face.”

  “As I recall, you wiped your face. I would have been offended.”

  Still finding Stewart’s wit challenging, she took a moment to consider a response.

  “I believe I trust your tongue more than I trust Goldie’s. I still question where her tongue had been.”

  Stewart scrunched his nose and then covered his eyes.

  “Given the choice between kissing me and playing with Goldie, you preferred throwing the stick for the dog,” she continued.

  “I hesitate to disagree with you, but I must. I was terrified you would reject my advances. You could have initiated things.”

  Unable to speak for a moment, he obviously had no idea how hard it was for her to initiate the experience they just shared. It was completely out of character. To expect any such action before this point in the relationship was just ridiculous.

  “I questioned whether you were attracted to me.”

  “Attracted?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re the most amazing woman I have ever met.”