Natasha's Dream Read online

  Natasha sat by the river and read her book, waiting for Stewart to appear. It wasn’t like Stewart to be tardy. Her mind began playing tricks on her. Was he ill? Had something dreadful happened? How would she know? Her heart pounded. Hearing a noise in the distance, her heart stopped. Looking up the slope, Stewart’s face came into view.

  “Hello. I was worried,” she admitted.

  “My apologies.” He sat on the grass facing her. “I did not mean to be so tardy. There is a topic we must discuss. My teacher feels, academically, I’m beyond her teaching ability. Before we became acquainted, I planned to attend a small local school and remain at home. I have since spent many hours contemplating my future. If I attend a university further from home, you could join me.”

  Natasha stared at the ground in front of her. Stewart had spoken of his dream to pursue a career as an architect and engineer. Few women attended university. The idea had not entered her mind, although she was certain she had achieved acceptable grades. Most women went to university to find a suitable husband. That was not a luxury she would have. Contemplating the notion, she could hear her father’s voice in her head. Without a doubt, her father would refuse the request.

  “I have never considered attending university,” she admitted.

  Stewart placed his hand on the side of her cheek and guided her face toward his.

  “I’m fortunate to possess a close relationship with my family, yet I yearn to finish my education and begin a life independent of them. You claim to have a distant relationship with your parents, yet you plan to continue living completely dependent upon them. University is an opportunity to grow.” Stewart pulled his hand back from her cheek.

  “My parents insisted upon home-schooling. I cannot fathom Father’s response if I were to request permission to attend university.”

  “You must convince them. With your intelligence, you deserve the opportunity.”

  Natasha did not respond. She dreamed of a life outside the castle but would her parents allow it? Her brothers were expected to be educated and had discussed university, but her further schooling had never been mentioned.

  “Father is pleased with the improvement my brothers have made academically, and wish for them to attend Picton University. As I am younger, perhaps they would allow me to attend the same university the following year. My brothers and I would be in the same building.”

  “Picton?” he groaned. “They have high standards. Once you are certain they are applying, I will forward my application and pray I have acceptable grades. Perhaps I will finally meet members of your family,” he remarked with a smile.

  “If my brothers are accepted, Picton will certainly accept you,” she assured him.

  * * *

  The remainder of the school year sped by. Natasha and Stewart spent every possible moment together. The afternoon always ended with a kiss on her cheek. Every evening she wrote in her diary about her chum by the river. She was falling in love with him. She wrote that he would meet a wonderful woman, fall in love, graduate, and marry. Her eyes filled with tears. It could never be her. Her father would ultimately decide whom she married without any regard for her happiness. Without a royal bloodline, Stewart would not be considered, regardless of his intelligence or the love she felt for him. She dreaded the fact that she would be forced to commit to a man her father deemed adequate. Deep in her heart, she prayed her father would allow her to attend university. It would be a temporary escape and freedom for a short time.

  The topic of university was raised during a dinner conversation. The twins were accepted into Picton. Marcus and Joshua sent a letter to the dean, wishing to speak with him. A dormitory room would be arranged. The twins would spend weekends at the school. They reluctantly agreed to return home for holiday celebrations. Her brothers were eager to experience life free from the restrictions of the castle.

  * * *

  The following afternoon, she eagerly awaited Stewart’s arrival. Marcus and Joshua have received their acceptance letters. Surely Stewart has as well. Seeing him, she placed her book beside her and waited until he sat down.

  “I have received pleasing news,” he blurted. “I’ve been accepted into Picton University. My parents are so proud of me. They would question it now if I don’t attend that school. Did your brothers receive their letters?”

  “Yes. Indeed. They both did. I am so pleased for you. You will be educated as an architect and engineer. You must tell me in detail about the letter and your parents’ reaction.”

  Dear Diary,

  My heart suffers. He will leave me to my unbearable life. With a heavy heart, I know someday he will meet someone special and leave me to my misery….

  * * *

  The twins met with the dean of Picton University. During their conversation they were adamant, insisting upon the use of fictitious names. They did not want preferential treatment or privileges, nor did they want the student body or professors made aware of their status.

  * * *

  Natasha wandered toward Stewart’s property, sat by the river, and stared into space. She was daydreaming when he arrived and joined her on the grass.

  “I leave for school tomorrow, but will return on Friday.”

  She nodded, but avoided eye contact.

  “I shall miss you. I cherish our time together,” she admitted.

  “As do I, but time will pass quickly. Hopefully, next year, you shall attend Picton as well. I do wish you had mentioned it to your parents.” He took her hands in his.

  She looked into his eyes. “With their focus on my brothers, it would have been a waste of words.” She forced a smile. “I will speak with Nanny and hope we are able to convince them.”

  “Good. Well, I cannot stay long, for I have much to do to prepare for my journey.”

  Stewart stood and extended his hand to assist Natasha to her feet. Standing, she turned her head to speak with him. At that exact moment, Stewart leaned forward to kiss her cheek. His lips brushed against her mouth.

  Frozen, Natasha didn’t move or speak. Her legs wobbled. Her heart pounded. She never expected to experience such sensations but locked them into her memory. The best moment of her life.

  Stewart jolted his body back. “My humble apologies,” he gasped. “I was not expecting you to move.”

  “Do not harbour regret. The error was mine.”

  “I do not confess to express regret, but would have preferred having consent before I kissed you.”

  Another kiss? Father in heaven must like me at this moment. Of course I will allow it.

  “I would be pleased to give my consent….” She stopped. The location. We’re in the open for all to see. Vicki could appear at any moment. “My concern is the location. The lack of privacy.”

  Without saying a word, he reached for her hand and led her up the slope and past a row of trees. There was an old, weathered shed about one hundred yards ahead. Beyond it was an open field with some scattered trees. His family home was visible in the distance.

  “When this land was purchased, the intent was to build the home further back on the property. The shed was built to store Poppa’s equipment, and then Momma informed him she wanted the house closer to the road. It is rustic, but will offer the privacy we desire.”

  “It shall be perfect, I’m sure.” She gave his hand a slight squeeze.

  The door swung open. Natasha looked inside. There were wooden beams with a loft overhead and old equipment and tools to one side. He led her to the centre of the room.

  “You’re trembling,” Stewart remarked.

  “Indeed. My nerves. It is quite embarrassing.”

  “Poppa and I spent hours in this building in my youth.” He glanced around. “A carpenter by trade, he taught me how to build. As Vicki grew and my appreciation turned to design, Poppa and I spent more quality time at our home. Today, he is busy at work. He was promoted to foreman and works long hours for his employer. He lacks the time to dedicate to his hobby, but he is very talented. I admire
him. When time permits, after our evening meal we sit together and look at his employer’s latest renovation designs. I dream someday of starting with a piece of land and watching my designs develop before my eyes. My own home of course, but I hope others will hire me to design their dream as well.”

  As she listened, Natasha pictured a father and his young observant son in the building. Stewart placed his forefinger under her chin and tilted her head up.

  “May I?”

  Natasha gave a slight nod, closed her eyes, and lost herself in the sensation of his soft, gentle kiss before he pulled away. When his finger slid from her chin to her cheek, she opened her eyes.

  “You are unlike any woman I have ever known. I admire and respect you, Natasha.”

  A tear of joy fell from her eye. He closed his eyes. His lips touched hers for a second time. Tingles sped up her spine. Unaccustomed to the sensation, she tightened her grip on his forearms. Stewart pulled back from the touch. Certain she had destroyed the moment, Natasha fought back the tears. She would never experience such emotions again. With her heart pounding like thunder, she kept her eyes closed and parted her lips. She wanted the sensation to continue. Stewart obliged with a deep, passionate kiss. When they parted, her entire body tingled. Speechless, she inhaled, attempting to get oxygen into her lungs. It seemed impossible to settle her pounding heart. Only one word came to mind to express her feelings.

  “Wow.”

  “That is not what I expected to hear, but indeed, the term suits. Wow,” he repeated.

  With a bashful smile, she met his gaze. “You have a claim on my affection that will never end. You possess the most handsome eyes. They are the most brilliant shade of blue.”

  “My eyes tell my emotions,” he admitted. “Momma is certain they are hereditary. A Donovan trait shared by Poppa, Vicki, and me.”

  “I recall the same twinkle the day I met your sister.”

  “Indeed, I remember the day as well. We fell on the grass. I looked down and saw you, an angel sent from the heavens. One look at those beautiful brown eyes and my heart began to pound. I really must depart. Until Friday. Meet me here. In the shed.”

  After a last gentle kiss, Natasha returned home. That night, with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face, she began writing.

  Dear Diary,

  He kissed me….

  With the entry finished, she put the diary away, crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

  * * *

  “Ahh,” Keeghan whispered. She turned to look at Alexander. “How sweet. Young love. That first kiss.”

  “May I continue?” Alexander asked, responding with very little facial expression.

  Keeghan thought it was the perfect time to return home, but apparently Alexander had a different idea. Needing his assistance, she turned her attention back to the screen.

  Chapter Ten

  With her brothers gone, Nanny and Natasha rekindled their friendship. Natasha spoke of her desire to attend university.

  “You’ve never mentioned this before, but I’m delighted. You have earned the opportunity to further your education.”

  “Would you speak with Mother and Father for me?”

  “Certainly.”

  Permission was granted. With Natasha’s home-schooling completed, Nanny moved out of the castle to seek employment elsewhere. Natasha missed her company.

  The weekdays were long and intolerable without Stewart, Nanny, or the twins. Natasha spent hours in her room, reading. It would be a long, dreadful year. Natasha missed her brothers when they sat to dine. Although they dominated the conversation, there was chatter at the table. Desperate for a hobby or activity to occupy her time, she spoke to Nanny. A short time later, Nanny sent a telegram suggesting she volunteer at a local orphanage. Her duties would include assisting with underprivileged children. She sent a response immediately upon reading it:

  “Brilliant idea, Nanny. Assistance required to speak with Mother and Father.”

  Her mother was pleased her daughter was interested in socializing but suggested an organization to which she belonged. I will not spend a moment more than necessary with the woman that shunned me as a child. Natasha adamantly refused. Permission to volunteer was granted. In the minds of her parents, Natasha would be occupied until her brothers returned from school. Thrilled, Natasha did not want her status mentioned. She did not want preferential treatment. Since Stewart thought her name was Natasha Hathaway, using the same name would simplify her life. Less confusion for her. Pleased with the idea, Natasha Hathaway would apply. Thankfully, Nanny did not question the bogus name. The acceptance letter from the orphanage arrived at Nanny’s apartment. Natasha would begin Thursday morning.

  * * *

  Natasha struggled to fall sleep Wednesday night. She woke early, lit her oil lamp, and dressed in the plain yellow gown that had been purchased for the occasion. Waiting for daybreak, she pondered the opportunity. She was thankful she and her brothers had been kept out of the public eye. Lacking any resemblance to either of her parents, she would not be recognized. Of that she was certain. After a full breakfast, Natasha was poised and keen to begin her new challenge at the orphanage.

  Natasha walked toward one of her family’s older carriages, hoping to avoid attracting undue attention. Before climbing in, she informed the driver to stop once the orphanage came into view. She then took her seat and stared out the carriage window.

  The peace and serenity of the tree-lined road and fresh morning air were delightful. The carriage stopped one hundred feet from the massive three-storey stone building. Once Natasha was assisted to the ground she waited until the carriage turned and travelled back along the same road.

  She approached the imposing structure of the Venderkemp Orphanage with some trepidation. Large mature trees, lush green grass, and large gardens full of rows of green foliage lined the way. The orphanage was smaller than the castle, but larger than she expected. It resembled a three storey rectangle box with a lot of windows. She stepped onto the cement entrance and approached the double wooden doors. She knocked. A middle-aged gentleman with white hair and green eyes opened the door.

  “Hello. I’m Natasha Hathaway.”

  “Yes, Miss Hathaway. My name is Mr. Venderkemp. We were expecting you. Please come in.”

  She entered the building and glanced around the room. Clean stone floor, three doors, and a stone staircase leading to the second floor. She was led into an office and offered one of the two wooden chairs. Mr. Venderkemp worked his way around the large wooden desk and sat. He proceeded to describe the rules for volunteers at the orphanage. She would be working from six o’clock in the morning until two o’clock in the afternoon, the timeframe she requested. She would be restricted to the same rooms as the children unless told otherwise. The second floor housed the medical area for sick children and women giving birth. She would not have access to this floor. Mr. Venderkemp’s tone turned compassionate when he spoke of the children. Natasha’s priorities would revolve around their health, safety, and happiness. She, along with the other volunteers, were to ensure all the children were available and presentable when couples interested in adopting were on the premises.

  Her other duties, he instructed, would include assisting the children’s studies, to serve meals, and to provide encouragement, support, and companionship to the children. After a short tour, Natasha was led into the study room. Over twenty young children sat on wooden chairs or pillows. Natasha listened as a volunteer finished reading a story.

  She enjoyed her first day being with the children, teaching and encouraging them and looked forward to returning the following morning. Accustomed to being very reserved, she was able to show the children warmth and affection, much like Nanny had given her. She remained distant with the adults.

  By her second day it was apparent the orphanage was in need of financial assistance to provide necessities. The children were fed proper meals and were attired, but their clothing was worn and the toys decrepi
t. She stepped into the carriage and contemplated a conversation with her mother.

  Upon arriving home, Natasha entered the castle. She grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit on the dining table. Wandering outside, she saw her mother sitting at the cast iron table, sipping a cup of tea. Natasha boldly stepped forward. She stated adamantly that her family should make an anonymous donation to the orphanage. Her mother agreed. A staff member was sent to the orphanage with strict instructions.

  * * *

  Friday afternoon, pleased and eager to see Stewart, Natasha rushed to the shed to await his arrival. After a long romantic kiss they relaxed on a blanket and snuggled as they talked about their week. Natasha spoke nonstop about her experiences at the orphanage and the gratification she received from helping the children.

  The first time her mother inquired about her day at the orphanage Natasha’s enthusiasm bubbled over. She faltered when her mother sat at the far end of the long wooden dinner table and listened without showing any enthusiasm. She wasn’t listening, nor did her father as he sat at the opposite end of the table. It was the first and last time she offered a detailed explanation of her day. For eight hours a day, five days a week, she loved her life at the orphanage, and then Stewart would return home at the weekend. She was happy.

  Dear Diary,

  I found the purpose of my life. I love working with the children….

  * * *

  The year passed quickly. Her time at the orphanage was both exhausting and rewarding. She played games, read to the children, and shed tears of happiness each time a couple led a young child away. Her hope was that every child within that building would be raised by a loving family, something she never experienced. Nanny visited the castle once or twice a week and joined Natasha in the library until dusk, talking of their experiences with the children in their lives. Natasha’s brothers returned from university for autumn national holiday, Christmas, and Easter.