Chapter Two

in which Neely is told her fate

After Uly dropped me off, I had a blissful three hours alone in the library with my books, a strong cup of tea, and a crackling fire in the fireplace. Papa never appeared like I hoped he would. These days, he mostly stays in his room. I have a theory that Mama would prefer to keep him there. Which is why I had hoped he’d be in the library tonight. Mama had made no secret that we would be attending a party tonight, and the library would be his.

When Mama had announced our explicit purpose for attending any gathering this season would be to find acceptable husbands, I had hoped Papa would disagree. Instead, he had just patted Mama’s arm and mumbled something to the effect of, “That’s good, deary.” I’m not sure who was more shocked, Mama or us daughters.

It wasn’t like Papa to agree to marrying his girls off. Before Papa’s journey, he would have told Mama not to be foolish. He would argue it was now the twentieth century, and he wanted his daughters to do other things. Like be researchers, and explorers, and business women—much to Mama’s horror. She would never imagine one of her daughters wanting to going to University. Never mind, I was the only daughter who wanted more than what society confined. Elizabeth and Rosemary were perfectly happy to marry and settle down as expected. It’s a wonder they aren’t married yet. Maybe after tonight…

I had just begun scribbling notes from another explorer on his findings (or lack of) for the Lost City when I hear the front door slam.

This wouldn’t be good.

“Neely James Spencer!”

I wince at Mama’s raised voice. I’m sure everyone next door heard it. If they were home from the party. Uly would be, unless he decided to find a game of cards or bet on his fights down at the docks. I wouldn’t blame him. Maybe I would have gone with him had he asked. I’ve done it before with Uly and Grady. I tucked my hair into a cap and wore some of Grady’s old clothes. But it has been years since I’ve snuck to the docks.

I sigh. It would have only prolonged Mama’s wrath until tomorrow. Maybe. More than likely, her anger would have compounded if I gave it time to fester. No, it would be better if I got this done and over with tonight.

I down the rest of my now lukewarm tea, and square my shoulders. Pushing out a breath, I look over to Sanderson, whose long orange body is stretched quite comfortably on the sofa across from me.

“Well, Sanderson. Here I go. Wish me luck.”

Sanderson raises his head and blinks at me slowly. I stand there as if waiting for him to reply before shaking my head. As if Sanderson would have any words of wisdom for me in this situation. He’s a cat for crying out loud. He doesn’t talk.

Tiptoeing to the door I crack it, peeking through the slit. The hems of Elizabeth and Rosemary’s pink dresses protrude from their winter coats, shimmering in the light. Mama slides her coat off, handing it to Elizabeth to hang in the closet. If Papa hasn’t made his way down yet due to the tornado that is Mama storming in the house, I’m not sure if he will come. Please, Papa, come to my rescue.

I slip out the door, closing it softly behind me before making my way toward the stairs. Mama cuts off my escape. Not that I was escaping. I planned on facing the wrath this night.

“What were you thinking, leaving the party early like you did?” Mama demands. There’s anger in her eyes, yes, but there is also something else behind the wrath. Fear? What is Mama scared of?

Elizabeth and Rosemary take longer than normal to slip out of their coats and hang them in the hall closet. I can tell by the way they move so slowly, they don’t want to miss this conversation between Mama and me.

“Mama,” I’m proud of how calm I keep my voice. “I was tired and thought I’d come home to check on Papa.”

“We both know that isn’t the reason you left early. You left because your head is in the clouds about this Lost City. This—”

“No, Mama, I—”

“This Lost City business stole your brother from me and your father. I won’t allow it to take one of my daughters as well.”

“But, mama, Grady isn’t—”

“Don’t speak your brother’s name in this house.” Mama cuts me off again. “I don’t know what happened in that place, but it was nothing good. You need to stop this foolish dreaming and do what needs to be done for this family.”

My chest is so tight I can barely get out my next words. “I don’t want to get married, Mama.”

“You don’t have a choice, Neely.”

“Only because you won’t give me one.” I didn’t think my chest could get any tighter. It feels like I’m being held underwater, the life leaking out of my body.

“We don’t have the luxury of choices. Not now that…” Mama’s voice fades. I know what she refuses to say. Now that Grady is no longer here. Now that Papa’s mind is fading like it is.

My hands ball into fists at my side. I refuse to believe this is my reality. I refuse to believe that all my choices have been taken from me. There has to be another way.

“What’s all this ruckus down here?”

Papa appears on the stairs, feet bare. His presence instantly diffusing the emotions in the room. Where are his slippers? He’s going to catch his death. Mama pastes a smile on her face as if nothing is amiss.

“Oh, Theodore, what are you doing up?” Mama rushes to Papa’s side, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow.

Papa pats Mama’s hand. “Just thought I’d mosey down and see what my girls are up to. How did the party go tonight? Was there dancing and fizzy lemonade?”

Elizabeth and Rosemary run to Papa’s side, both talking over each other, exclaiming they had found the loves of their lives.

See? I told you it wouldn’t take them long. Seems love can fall into your lap if you look hard enough. It can stay out of your lap, too, if you try hard enough.

Papa’s head bounced back and forth between his oldest and his youngest daughters. Mama’s face beamed. Sometimes I wish I could bring a look like that to Mama’s face.

“And what about our Neely girl? Did she have a good time, too?” Papa manages to get out between my sisters’ excitement.

A hush falls on the room.

“Neely didn’t stay at the party the whole time. She’s been here,” Elizabeth exclaims, wincing as with each word, Mama’s face darkens.

“In the library, most likely,” Rosemary added, oblivious to Mama’s change in mood.

“Girls, I need to speak with your Father and Neely in private.” Mama’s voice is tight. “Head upstairs and get ready for bed.” She dismisses my sisters as if they were children and not women who would be married off in a few short months.

Elizabeth and Rosemary slide up the stairs. Rosemary turns at the top step with a look that says, “Good luck.”

I swallow as Papa looks at Mama with clouded eyes, the telltale sign that his mind isn’t fully present. His smile falters. “What could ever be the matter to put such a long face on my love?”

“Neely is not seeing reason.” Mama guides Papa by the elbow further down the hall. “Let’s go to the conservatory, and I’ll explain everything.”

I look longingly at the library door, wishing I could slip back behind its oak door and hide between pages of my research.

“Come along, Neely,” Mama calls over her shoulder, and I double my steps to catch up.

We’ll be discussing whatever it is that comes next in Mama’s choice of battleground. The conservatory. Next to the library, it’s my favorite place—even at night when everything is painted in black and all you can see are sparkles in the night sky.

Large, shadowy plants stretch in the dark room. Mama flips a switch, and the night sky disappears, replaced with our reflection in the windows surrounding us.

Father has never been a tall man, but since he returned from the Amazon, he looks smaller somehow. I don’t like it. His once salt-and-peppered hair is now stark white, and he walks with a stoop. Not only did the jungle steal his mind and my brother, it also stole what youth my father had remaining. How inconsiderate.

Mama is the image of grace and put-togetherness. Everything I am not. Where my hair is coming unraveled from its tuck and I have a pencil shoved behind one ear, there isn’t a hair out of place on Mama’s head. Mama’s dress is the height of fashion. As soon as I returned from the party, I changed into a pair of hand-me-down trousers from Grady and one of Papa’s old sweaters (it still smells like the old him). I feel so plain next to Mama. I run my hands over the course fabric of the trousers before shoving them in my pockets. No need to bring any more attention to my discomfort.

“The fact of the matter, Neely, is you must be married along with your sisters. There is no getting around it. I tried to let you choose someone on your own, that’s what tonight was all about—”

“Even if I wanted to marry, you expect me to pick the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with in one night?”

Mama pins me with a look. I’m not sure if it’s for interrupting or her way of telling me not to be dramatic. “I wish things were different, and we had more time.” Her eyes flit over to Papa, who is inspecting an orchid, oblivious to anyone else in the room.

My heart sinks. Part of me knows Mama’s right — if word got out that Papa’s mind has slipped, it would ruin any chance we have of marrying respectably, but what if I didn’t want to marry out of convenience? What if I wanted to spend as much time with Papa as I could before he is lost to us forever?

“Mama, please,” my plea comes out in a whisper. Tears pool in my eyes, and I can see them glistening in Mama’s as well.

She blinks them away as quickly as they appear. “I’ve made arrangements for you to meet with the eligible bachelors tomorrow afternoon.”

I didn’t know it is possible for my heart to sink any lower. “Mama, no, please, not like this.” Why must I feel like a head of cattle, sold off to the highest bidder? My only worth, the match I can make.

“Oh, Neely. My brave, beautiful Neely.” Mama reaches out and cups my cheek, wiping an escaped tear. “I need you to look at this as your next grand adventure. I need you to do this for me.”

But this wouldn’t be an adventure. This would be the makings of a prison. “Mama, I can’t.”

Mama’s face hardened, and I know no amount of begging or pleading will change her mind. Still, there is a slight tremble in her voice when she says, “You have tonight to come to terms with this, Neely. I expect you to be ready in the morning.” She turns on her heel and marches out of the conservatory.

I gasp out a sob as my knees give out, and I slide to the floor. This can’t be happening. This can’t be my fate. But what choice do I have? This is not something I can fight.

A shadow falls over me. I blink up, having forgotten that Papa didn’t leave with Mama. He holds a wrinkled hand in my direction. “Come now, Neely Girl. Let’s talk.”

It’s only after I let myself be pulled up and tugged toward the library that I realize Papa’s eyes are completely clear.

Atlas of Neely Spencer is currently being released chapter by chapter as I write it. You can read all about why I chose this format in this post. Please forgive any errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation since this is not professionally edited. Think of it like this: you're getting to read my first-pass pages!