Natasha's Dream

by Heather Greenis

  “Father?”

  “Natasha?” The very sound of her father’s voice sent a chill down her spine. “Where are you? I will send the carriage immediately.”

  “Please, I beg of you. End the search.”

  “Return to the castle where you belong,” he demanded.

  “I belong with my husband. I love him, Father.”

  “Nonsense. The marriage will be annulled.”

  “I will never leave his side. I beg of you, Father, be reasonable,” she pleaded. “Please, allow my husband the opportunity to prove his sincerity. He is a decent, loving—”

  “Come home now!”

  Natasha turned her head, expecting people to be staring at her. His voice was loud and so angry. Nanny’s hand gripped her shoulder, giving her support. She turned her attention back to the contraption.

  “Why do you feel it necessary to deny me happiness? I ask for one thing and one thing only. Freedom,” she said in a low, angry voice. “Allow me to inform you—I love my husband, and shall spend eternity with him.”

  “No,” her father barked.

  Natasha handed the device to Nanny. Without uttering a word, Nanny placed the earpiece on the receiver. The call was ended.

  * * *

  Natasha arrived home to find Stewart sitting on the sofa with Hope on his lap, reading her a story. Natasha made eye contact with her husband and shook her head. Nanny closed the door behind her as she left. Determined to refrain from crying in her daughter’s presence, Natasha didn’t speak. She couldn’t. She walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Retrieving her diary from her wardrobe, with a trembling hand she wrote:

  I hate him! I hope he rots!

  She replaced the diary under garments in her wardrobe, curled up on the bed, and held her favourite family photograph to her chest. Finally, she allowed herself to cry.

  The bedroom door opened. Stewart crawled onto the bed. He snuggled in tight behind her.

  “I hate him,” she snarled. “I wish Father was dead.”

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  He pulled her body closer to his. Emotionally spent from the conversation with her father, and her resulting anger and frustration, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  When she rose she walked into Hope’s room. Her angel was sleeping. Stewart followed her in.

  “How did you sleep?” he inquired, placing his arms around her waist.

  “Not well. I’m tired, but I have too many thoughts in my head. I assumed we would have another baby, give Hope a sibling. I’m unable to consider bringing another child into this world. You must feel as confined as I do in this cramped space.”

  “We are young, Natasha. We’ll have more children. Eventually, your father will accept our marriage,” he assured her.

  Feeling his lips on the back of her head, Natasha leaned into his body. “Promise me once this madness is over you shall return to university and finish your master’s degree. One day, you shall be a successful architect and engineer. Your professors commended your talent in both areas.”

  She turned her around and looked into his eyes.

  “Promise me,” she insisted.

  “Natasha, it grieves me knowing your family is financially supporting us. I am reminded of the fact when money is given to us. The moment I’m able, I shall seek part-time employment, and return to school.”

  Not wishing to discuss this, she walked out of their daughter’s room. She began humming as she continued toward the centre of the parlour.

  “Dance with me.”

  * * *

  Unable to sleep that night, Natasha crawled out of their bed, retrieved her diary, and worked her way into the parlour.

  Dear Diary,

  This is not the life I planned for Hope or Stewart. They deserve better, but I do not have options….

  With bloodshot eyes, Natasha finished a long entry then began a letter to Nanny. In it, she requested a visit from her brothers. Leaving the letter on the counter for Stewart to read, she returned to their bed. Stewart didn’t stir as she crawled in beside him.

  Nanny and her sister arrived the following week. Natasha sent Stewart and Hope to the park for much needed fresh air.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Two weeks after their visit, Hope ran out of her room wearing her blue play dress. Natasha followed a few steps behind. Stewart extended his arms and lifted their daughter onto his knee. Their little girl was eager to get to the park to play. Nanny and the twins arrived shortly thereafter. After a brief greeting, Stewart carried Hope out of their apartment.

  When father and daughter returned, Natasha was still visiting with her family. Hope ran to greet her momma, and then turned to embrace Nanny and Joshua before climbing onto Marcus’ knee. When her daughter’s excitement subsided, Natasha rose from her chair and skipped to Stewart’s side.

  “Father is planning to cancel the search,” she declared, clasping her hands in joy. “He has agreed to accept our marriage.”

  Disbelief and joy stole across his features. Natasha couldn’t recall seeing him as happy, as giddy. Stewart took her into his arms and swung Natasha in circles.

  “I was certain he would concede if we remained patient,” Stewart boasted triumphantly. “I must inform Momma and Poppa. They will be equally excited. You must tell me what was said, how this news came about. You were deeply grieved after speaking with your father.”

  Natasha looked at Nanny and her brothers. “Father listened to my plea. Mother and Father wish to become acquainted with their grandchild. We must remain cautious for a few days,” she warned. “We cannot be certain all the guards have been notified. I do not want Hope traumatized if we are accosted in public. As a family, we will visit my parents. I wish to introduce my husband and child to Mother and Father.”

  “The seclusion is ending.” He beamed. “We can have a normal life now.”

  “And Hope shall have siblings,” she informed him as she kissed his cheek.

  “Many siblings. I want to have many children.”

  Once the guests had departed, Natasha went to Hope’s room to ensure their daughter was sleeping. She turned to her husband.

  “I would like to thank my husband for his patience, and celebrate this glorious news. It is time to give Hope a baby brother or sister.”

  Laughing, he swooped her into his arms.

  * * *

  The Donovans were ecstatic when informed of the news on Sunday afternoon. The family celebrated with wine and a special dinner.

  Natasha crawled out of bed, placed her shawl over her shoulders, and wandered into the next room. She wrote an entry in the diary as Stewart and Hope continued sleeping.

  Dear Diary,

  It is difficult knowing I am deceiving Stewart, but it is delightful seeing his smile. He is happy, and that makes me content and confident with my decision….

  Exhausted from their late night, Stewart was rubbing his eyes and yawning as he approached Natasha and Hope later that morning.

  “Last night was incredible,” he acknowledged.

  “My humble apologies. I believe I may have screeched in your ear.”

  “Indeed you did. More than once. It’s been a glorious week. I love you, my passionate wife.” He turned his attention to their daughter and kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, Hope.”

  “Poppa.”

  Natasha leaned back on the sofa and rested her head, encouraging Stewart to kiss her.

  “I didn’t hear you rise. You must be exhausted.”

  “Indeed, but our daughter woke well-rested. I shall nap while you’re out. Nanny will arrive after lunch to visit while you and Hope are at the park,” she reminded him.

  “I’m famished from the exercise last night,” he admitted. He turned toward the kitchen.

  Just before Nanny arrived for her scheduled visit, Stewart walked into their daughter’s room for an additional sweater. Natasha lifted the child into her arms and carried her to the apartment entrance.

&nb
sp; “I love you, Hope,” she whispered.

  Hope gave her a big sloppy kiss.

  “We shall wait for Nanny before leaving,” Stewart informed her.

  “Nonsense. She will arrive any moment. Hope wishes to go to the park. She will become impatient if she is forced to wait.”

  Natasha placed her daughter on her floor and she looked into her husband’s eyes. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  Stewart put his hands on her cheeks and gave Natasha a gentle kiss. Still feeling the romance and passion of the previous night, she deepened the kiss.

  “Look,” he said, pulling out from the embrace.

  Hope was staring up at them, tugging on her poppa’s trousers.

  “You must be patient, sweetheart. Momma enjoys kissing your poppa.” She turned her attention back to Stewart. “I love you so much it would be impossible to love you an iota more.”

  “And I you.”

  She looked down at her daughter. “I love you, Hope. Remember that, always.”

  “Love you, Momma.”

  “Tomorrow, I shall remain by your side the entire day. Tomorrow and always.”

  “Tomorrow?” Stewart repeated. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

  Natasha opened the door and watched as her husband and child walked down the hall toward the steps. About to close the door, she heard Nanny’s voice, greeting Stewart and Hope. Natasha waited for her friend to enter their home, closed the door and embraced her.

  “I beg of you, reconsider your decision,” Nanny pleaded.

  Shaking her head, Natasha remained silent.

  “We shall converse, think rationally, and find a reasonable solution,” Nanny continued.

  “Nanny, I have been unable to sleep lately, desperate for another solution to my dilemma. I have not thought of any. Father is relentless, and unreasonable. Two traits I hope he lives to regret. I would appreciate your assistance, but I am capable of continuing alone,” she replied confidently.

  * * *

  An hour later, the apartment was cleared out and ready for Natasha’s plan to be put into action. With her mother due to arrive in a short time, Natasha sat in the kitchen and wrote in her diary.

  Nanny entered the bedroom, leaving a small brown bag on the bed. Natasha finished her entry and met Nanny in the parlour.

  “Please Natasha, I beg of you. Stewart will be devastated. Consider your daughter.”

  “You’ve been a friend, a mentor, and more of a momma to me than my own mother,” Natasha responded, and then kissed her cheek. “I love you, Nanny.”

  “And I you. I couldn’t love a daughter my own flesh and blood more. I have always been proud of you.”

  Seeing Nanny’s watering eyes, Natasha disappeared into the bedroom.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Arrangements had been made for a telegram to be delivered to the Donovan homestead. Stewart’s parents should arrive within a couple of hours. Anna, Natasha’s mother, was due to arrive momentarily. The apartment was quiet, giving Nanny time to think. Too much time. It was difficult to keep from crying, but she refused to greet the expected visitors with bloodshot eyes. Nanny entered the bedroom, picked up the diary, and carried it into the parlour, placing it in a box, out of view. She walked out of the apartment and closed the door.

  She was standing outside the apartment complex when the queen’s carriage stopped in front of the building. Anna stepped down, elegant and proud as ever. Her attendant stepped out behind her.

  “I was thrilled to receive the telegram stating Natasha was prepared to return home. I knew a relationship outside the castle would not last. Her crown is in my bag. Harold wishes to see her wearing it when she greets him.”

  Nanny remained silent. She led the way to Natasha and Stewart’s home. Anna was close behind her. Nanny opened the door to the apartment, stood back, and let Anna look inside. “Natasha. We should leave in haste. Your father expects to see you.”

  “You may enter,” Nanny told her.

  “Natasha?” Anna called.

  Anna stepped into the room, took a few more steps, and gasped. She trembled at the sight of her daughter’s still body resting on the white sheets, clearly visible from where she stood in the parlour through the open bedroom door. Anna dashed into the bedroom.

  “Stay here,” Nanny ordered the attendant.

  “Natasha. Speak to me,” Anna pleaded as she stood by the bed.

  Anna placed her hand on her princess’ fingers as she willed her daughter to move. Natasha remained motionless. Anna saw the two envelopes and the portrait that rested on Natasha’s stomach. One had ‘Mother’ inscribed in Natasha’s hand. Anna picked up the envelope and then the portrait for a closer examination. The picture had been taken at the Donovan cottage. Natasha was sitting under the tree with Hope on her knee.

  Anna looked up at Nanny.

  “Natasha’s daughter?” she sobbed. “My….” She was unable to continue.

  “Indeed. Your granddaughter. Her name is Hope.”

  Anna fought her tears. “You never spoke of a child. Neither Marcus nor Joshua spoke of a child. Are they aware of her existence?”

  “Certainly. They have bonded with Natasha’s husband and their niece.”

  “You must take me to Natasha’s husband,” Anna begged.

  “I will not,” Nanny responded, angered by the request. “It would have pleased Natasha to have her parents accept her marriage, but I fear it is too late.”

  “You’ve made an acquaintance with….” Anna went quiet for a moment “I don’t know his name,” she admitted. “I know nothing about him.”

  “He is a loving husband, and a warm, compassionate father to the child.”

  “His name. You must tell me his name.”

  “I will not,” Nanny said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. She fought to retain her composure.

  Anna clasped the photograph to her chest and cried. Nanny had never seen Anna show such emotion until that moment.

  “It would please me to have a picture of Natasha with her husband and daughter. My daughter’s family,” Anna whispered, her voice cracking.

  “Nay,” Nanny’s voice remained cold. “In my heart, I question his willingness to make your acquaintance. I assured Natasha her father would be denied the privilege of seeing her child.”

  Anna gasped. She closed her eyes. The pain in her heart was evident on her face. “May I?” she asked as she glanced at the picture.

  “Indeed. You may keep that picture.”

  Anna set the photograph in her purse, removed her monogrammed handkerchief and wiped her eyes. She picked up the envelope and pulled out the paper.

  Mother,

  Inform Father the search is over. I am no longer hiding. Together, you have destroyed another generation.

  Natasha

  Anna broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Regaining her composure, she looked at the second envelope, addressed ‘To My Darling Husband.’ As she reached for the envelope, Nanny glared at her and pulled Anna’s arm back.

  “The contents are not meant for your eyes,” Nanny spoke with authority.

  It was difficult for Nanny to witness Anna in distress, but this woman—Natasha’s mother—had refused to assist her own daughter. Desperate to help her friend, Nanny had gone to the castle for a private discussion with Anna. Concerned about Natasha’s depressed state of mind, Nanny pleaded, begging Anna to approach Harold in the privacy of their chamber.

  Anna admitted her desire to re-establish a relationship with her daughter, but refused to confront her husband on the matter. In Anna’s opinion, life at the castle was unpleasant enough as it was. She feared her husband would become completely unapproachable if she broached the subject of their daughter’s marriage. Nanny had listened to Anna’s feeble excuses. She had contemplated speaking of Natasha’s child but remained silent on the topic.

  In her heart, Nanny felt the love of her own flesh and blood should compel the woman to speak with her husband. That had not happened. Now, A
nna wished for assistance from Nanny. No. My loyalty will remain with Natasha and her family: Stewart, Hope, and the Donovans.

  Anna opened her large satchel, removed the princess’ crown, and placed it on Natasha’s head. Lowering herself onto her knees, she held her daughter’s hand.

  “My humble apologies, my darling daughter,” she whispered. “Father in heaven, wake me from this terrible dream. This cannot be happening. Allow me to redeem myself and assist my daughter. Allow me the opportunity to speak with Harold.”

  Struggling to fight her own tears, Nanny took a deep breath. Stewart and Hope were due home momentarily. It was imperative Anna was gone when Stewart and Hope returned. It was Natasha’s wish.

  “We must depart.”

  Anna was still sobbing as Nanny ushered her out of the building. The attendant followed. Once Anna and her attendant were seated in the carriage, Nanny reached into her purse and produced a sealed document with Anna’s name written in bold letters.

  “This is Natasha’s will. An adjusted copy of her will,” Nanny informed her.

  Anna used the tear-soaked handkerchief to wipe her eyes before she broke the seal and began reading.

  “All names have been omitted from the document.”

  “The legal document will be given to Natasha’s husband for his use. Natasha is allowing you the opportunity to become acquainted with her daughter, but you must agree to specific conditions.”

  “Anything. I shall do anything that is requested of me.”

  “It’s Natasha’s wish that you see her daughter under my supervision. You must assure me Harold will have no contact with the child. Natasha was adamant on this point.”

  “In his own way, Harold loved her. Don’t do this to him,” Anna pleaded.

  Nanny glared at her. “I will take the picture back. I will abide by Natasha’s wishes. You will not see that child.”