Pride, Prejudice, and Cheese Grits (Austen Takes the South)

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “I wondered,” Shelby laughed. “You didn’t seem quite the type to get jiggy with it.”

  Ransom grunted, checking the rearview mirror before changing lanes. “No, definitely not real jiggy, as you say.”

  A group of students wandered through the crosswalk in front of their car, excited voices clearly heard even though the windows were up. She stared out the window, as if looking for answers in the darkness. “I’m sorry if I made Carl uncomfortable at dinner. It’s difficult for me to let go of an argument.”

  “Please don’t apologize, it was the best dinner conversation I’ve had in a month.” A warm chuckle filled the space between them. “It sure beats wedding chatter any day.”

  “I’m sure it gets old but a lot of women become obsessed with wedding details.” Shelby tried to empathize, but she wanted to grab him by the front of his shirt and shake him. Why would he marry a woman like that? And why did she even care? Like a pendulum, she swung between irritation at him and frustration with herself.

  “Obsess is an understatement,” Ransom said drily. He turned right on McClellan and said, “About two blocks now?”

  “Yup, on the left. It’s a little white house, picket fence, magnolia tree, cat in the window.” The porch light was on and as usual, there was a furry shape sitting in the front window, waiting for her return. Shelby hoped that Rebecca had made some chamomile tea in the special pot she brought back from England. A hot cup of tea would be the perfect end to the weird little evening.

  “Is that the attack cat?” he asked, nodding at Sirocco’s dark form.

  “No, that’s Rebecca,” Shelby said. “I’m real progressive, you know.”

  Ransom snorted. “Tasha’s not the first, and she won’t be the last, to say that type of thing.”

  So Tasha’s bigotry wasn’t new. Shelby was mystified that Ransom could stand listening to it, attaching himself to her, looking towards a future of living with it. She said nothing, hating her own cowardice and the feelings that rioted inside her.

  “What’s the kitty’s name again?”

  “Sirocco,” Shelby replied.

  “Isn’t that a sort of warm ocean breeze?” Ransom glanced at her quizzically as he turned off the engine.

  “Well, my friends gave her to me when they moved away and her name comes from... See, she had a slight intestinal problem in her kittenhood.”

  He let out a bark of laughter.

  “It’s all fixed,” she said reassuringly. “She needs special food, but there’s no reason to fear her now.”

  “Good to know,” he said, grinning, and hopped out.

  She grabbed her purse and opened her door to find him waiting on the other side, helping her out of the high vehicle. They’d hardly reached the front door before it swung open. “Come on in, you two. How was dinner? Where’s Tasha?” Rebecca peered behind Ransom, as if the rail thin woman could be hiding behind the porch post.

  “Tasha and Carl, that’s his cousin, went on somewhere for drinks. Ransom was just bringing me home.” She turned to him and said quickly, “ Thanks again for the dinner and-

  “Come on in, I just made some tea.” Rebecca interrupted, waving Ransom through the door. Shelby stood, stunned, as he accepted warmly. He settled into their couch and Sirocco came to inspect him, bushy tail swishing curiously. Rebecca bustled around, handing out tea mugs and making small talk. Shelby tried to catch her eye but her roommate was clearly refusing look at her.

  Shelby excused herself, slouched into the bathroom, and stared at her reflection in the old built in medicine cabinet mirror. Wild curls escaped her pony tail and framed her heart shaped face. A delicate necklace of gold glinted in the light and she touched the small cross at the base of her throat. Feelings rioted around in her, so many feelings she was having trouble even identifying them all. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm her nerves. She splashed cold water on her flushed cheeks and wished she could go to her room and hide. What was Rebecca doing? Shelby patted her face dry and grinned at her reflection. Carlisle was Ransom’s old room mate. Rebecca always knew how to play her cards right. Clever, clever girl.

  They were already conversationally mid stream when Shelby returned. Curling up in the armchair across the living from Ransom with a hot mug of tea, she listened to the easy flow of small talk between them. Sirocco claimed her rightful place on her lap and Shelby ran her fingers through her soft fur, feeling the vibrations of the cat’s rib cage as she purred. .

  “And thank you for rescuing my roommie. I would have had to learn to cook if she’d frozen to death on the side of the road,” Rebecca said.

  “There was no danger of that-“ Shelby started.

  “She really wasn’t in any-“ Ransom broke off as they both spoke at once.

  “- happening. My car was fine, I was just waiting it out.” Sirocco purred and stretched her claws. Shelby chewed her lip for a moment. She sounded so ungrateful.

  “But she’s right. Thank you, again.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said simply. “You’re both up for tenure?” he asked, turning to Rebecca.

  “Right, and both nervous wrecks about getting some new articles published,” she said, in offhand tone.

  “ The year I was tenured was probably one of the most stressful periods in my life,” he said, nodding.

  “Well, Shelby isn’t going to have any problem, just as soon as she solves her little mystery. That paper is going to blow their socks off.” Rebecca winked at her over her mug.

  “Aha, nothing better than a little mystery.” His eyes darkened with interest.

  Shelby felt her cheeks grow warm under his gaze. “I want to find out the identity of someone. Susanna Caldwell uses an initial for her schools’ benefactor. I’m sure you noticed that in the papers I loaned you. ”

  “ I did, actually. I think it would make a great paper. But when you’re under a deadline you do the best you can and submit it everywhere. You know, I understand the obsession. You think that clue is going to be in the next letter, the next stack of records. But a lot was lost, forever. You have any ideas at all who it might be?”

  “Not really. A man, wealthy, white. That’s about it. None of her correspondents mention him, and she names him only in her diary and four letters. None of her friends have that initial, none of the big givers of the time that we know of would match. It’s just really odd.” Shelby lapsed into troubled silence. She wondered if Susanna Caldwell had ever written the name down at all. Maybe she took the secret to her grave one hundred and fifty years before.

  “It would be such a better paper with the name, that’s all. I hate to give up.” She shrugged, running her hands through Sirocco’s fur.

  “Obstinate, headstrong girl,” Ransom chuckled. “Just finish it and submit it. The tenure-“ He stopped mid sentence as Rebecca gasped, eyes wide.

  “Did you- Was that a quote from Pride and Prejudice?”

  He blinked. “Sure, The heart of the book is the scene with Lady Catherine, when she’s attempting to bully Elizabeth into refusing Darcy’s offer of marriage. What?”

  He cocked his head and regarded Rebecca in amusement. “Men like Austen, too.”

  Tears were leaking from Rebecca’s eyes as she rocked with laughter. “No, no, men do not like Austen!”

  “Well, I’m here to tell that you we do. Don’t be sexist.” His bright blue eyes crinkled with laughter.

  Rebecca was struggling to control her giggles. Every time she glanced at Shelby she started again and there was no way she could explain why Fielding quoting Austen was quite so funny.

  “I think what she’s laughing about is how you dropped it into the conversation, so naturally.” Shelby hastened to explain, while inside she was cringing.

  “Well, now that I’ve given her the giggles, I should get home.” He smiled, bemused, and crossed the room to Shelby. “Thank you for coming to dinner.”

  Shelby started to stand up but he waved her back down. “Don’t dislodge the cat, she’s happ
y there,” he said. “See you at work.”

  She wanted to say something witty, something clever but when she raised her eyes to his, a thrill coursed through her that caused her thoughts to disappear like a puff of smoke. Dropping her gaze, she struggled to regain control.

  Rebecca had recovered enough from her giggles to open the door. “Have a good night!”she said, waving merrily.

  “You’re awful,” Shelby hissed, the moment they heard his car engine start up.

  “I couldn’t help it! Nobody could have. Our Darcy quoted Pride and Prejudice to you! What are the odds of that?”

  Shelby sulked for a moment, then let out an exasperated breath. “He must have thought you were having a mental breakdown.”

  “Well, I couldn’t exactly explain, could I?” Rebecca giggled a little, and gathered up their mugs. “You have to tell me everything that happened at dinner before I go to bed or I won’t be able to sleep from curiosity.”

  “Pure insanity. His fiancee is a bridezilla and the only time she stopped insulting me on my age and unmarried status, was when she was giving me tips on how to adopt a nice white baby and how to pick an engagement ring, not that I’d ever be lucky enough to get one.”As they washed and dried the mugs, Shelby gave a condensed version, highlighting Tasha’s wedding mania and Carl’s pleasant nature, but skipped over the comments on Rebecca herself. No sense spreading the meanness around.

  Rebecca yawned and stood up from their little kitchen table. “How did you get roped into that anyway?”

  Shelby thought back to Ransom’s whispered plea and felt herself start to blush. “He was desperate for some distraction from wedding chatter, I guess,” she said quickly.

  She nudged Sirocco out of her path and stretched. “I better get to bed or I’ll be a wreck in the morning. Thanks for the tea, even if you did invite him in without asking.” She playfully punched Rebecca’s shoulder.

  “Ow, house mate abuse! I couldn’t resist. If he has any pull with Carlisle that I need to be as friendly as possible.”

  “And who cares about me, right?”

  “Exactly. It’s tenure, baby. All’s fair in love and war... and academic pursuits of a professional nature,” Rebecca said. But she draped an arm over Shelby’s shoulders. “It wasn’t so bad, was it? I’m sorry I didn’t ask first, but you’d just had dinner with him. What’s wrong with a little tea and small talk?”

  Shelby sighed and smiled. “Nothing, you’re right. And he didn’t stay long at all.”

  Later that night, as she slipped down into sleep like falling under water, Shelby struggled to banish visions of Ransom seated on their maroon couch, mercurial emotions playing over his features, eyes dark and thoughtful.

  Ransom wandered down the flagstone path to the home he was renting from the college, his gaze unfocused. Tonight was the most fun he’d had in a long time. An image flashed in his mind’s eye of Shelby’s furious expression, words clever and sharp. A shiver of unease went up his spine. He thought of the years he’d spent dating nice, safe women. Women who said one thing but did another. The kind who never argued and were happiest when shopping.

  He jammed his key in the old lock of the heavy oak front door. He would never let another woman into his heart like he had Lili. It was better that way. And he was determined to remember that fact.

  “I understood there were some very strong objections against the lady.”

  -Col. Fitzwilliam

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “I want to wear something I’m comfortable in, otherwise I’ll spend the whole evening tugging at my neckline and checking my hem.” The week had progressed steadily until Shelby could no longer deny that she needed to prepare for Margaret Greathouse’s fund raising party. Waiting until a few hours before should have kept her mind off the task, but somehow she felt more nervous than ever.

  “All right, but at least let me pick the shoes. You really have the most boring collection of footwear on the planet,” Rebecca said.

  “You don’t even want me to go, so why the big deal over what I wear?”

  “Call it a matter of honor. You can’t expect me to let you walk into a room full of vipers while wearing ugly shoes.”

  Shelby snorted. “Vipers, really that’s very dramatic. They’re going to be old and stuffy and probably a little snobbish, but nothing I haven’t seen before. Remember, I’ve been toted around to these parties since I was fifteen.”

  “Maybe you know what you’re doing, but I’m still picking the shoes.” Rebecca closed the discussion while pulling boxes from her large closet. Her room was immaculately clean, the polar opposite to Shelby’s chaos. The soft gray silk bedspread was wrinkle free and throw pillows artfully arranged across the head. Her research papers were organized in white folders and reference books were shelved alphabetically on custom made floor to ceiling book cases. A black lacquered corner desk waited, the top clear of brick a brack and dust. A bright red Mac laptop was the only focal point. As much as Rebecca loved color in her wardrobe, her work area was nearly monochromatic.

  “Don’t you want to know what I’m wearing?” Shelby asked, nervously peering over Rebecca’s shoulder.

  “Oh, well, I assumed that old navy one... again.” Her head was buried in the back of the closet and her voice came out muffled. “I have some great peep-toe pumps in here somewhere.”

  “I was thinking about that green dress Ellie gave me,” Shelby said. Rebecca pulled her head out of the closet and stared at her for a moment.

  “You know, that one with the sequined criss-cross right here,” Shelby drew a line from between her breasts to her hips on either side.

  “Well, this is a switch. You told me there was never going to be any place you could wear that dress, it was just too... ‘flashy’ I think was the word you used..”

  Shelby felt herself blush a little and raised her chin. “Better late than never, right? And if I’m going to make an impression, I better look the part.”

  Rebecca grinned. “I definitely have the shoes to go with that dress, hang on a second.” Her head disappeared again and she finally emerged with a box. She opened it and folded back the tissue to reveal emerald green sandals with a perfect kitten heel. A row of glass jewels shaped like strands of ivy shone at the toes.

  “Wow,” breathed Shelby. “Those are works of art.” She gingerly removed one shoe and put it on. The shoe sparkled even in the overhead light. “I would never have the courage to wear this outfit for a date. It’s so obvious.”

  “Now, as your friend, I have to say this.” Rebecca sat on the edge of her bed, holding the shoe box. Her face was set and grim.

  Shelby paused in the act of examining her foot, a delicate strap crossing one slim ankle. “What now? You know something I don’t? What new gossip have you heard?”

  “No, nothing like that. And it’s totally your business, but you’ve already admitted, well, that you think he’s pretty cute...”

  Shelby straightened up. “Spit it out.”

  She took a deep breath. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Not academically... but romantically. I’m afraid you might fall in love with him.” She shrugged apologetically and waited for the explosion.

  Sitting down next to Rebecca, Shelby carefully unfastened the strap on the sandal. Her long, curly hair fell across her face, hiding her churning emotions. When she straightened up, she said, “Thank you. Only a good friend would care enough to say that. I’m not very experienced and the right man, or the wrong man, might break my heart into pieces.”

  She handed the sandal to Rebecca to put in the box with its mate.

  “I wouldn’t go to this party if I didn’t think I could handle it... or him.” She studied the floor. “I feel perfectly comfortable admitting this, since he’s engaged and therefore totally off-limits... but when I see him across a room, I think, ‘there’s a handsome man’ , like everybody else does. But when he’s near me-“

  Rebecca’s eyebrows were raised, a grin slowly spreading over her fa
ce.

  “Stop that. As I was saying, when he’s near enough to smell, I feel the strangest sensation, like electricity. My fingers tingle. It’s really odd... and annoying. The more I try to keep myself from reacting, the worse it gets. I feel the heat spread out from my chest, down my arms.” Shelby stared down at her bare toes.

  “So, you get a hot flash and your hands go numb? Sometimes I get that feeling when I open my credit card bill.”

  “Be serious. I’m trying to be objective about this,” she said, glaring.

  “Fine, you get all hot and tingly? Hm.” Rebecca pretended to contemplate Shelby’s revelation, with one finger pressed to her chin.

  “You make it sound so improper. I’m sure dear Jane has a better phrase or two,” Shelby retorted.

  “No, Austen didn’t describe much of that. That was for the reader to infer.” Rebecca nodded, eyes wary. “Anyway, I get it. I have to say, I knew somebody would float your boat eventually. I just didn’t think it would be Ransom Fielding.”

  Shelby dropped the shoe back in the box, all business again. “Not a big deal. Just pheremones, remember?”

  “Right. But in the back of my mind I always wondered if you preferred books to people.”

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “No, I do love books, it’s true! But next to a real live person, I’d probably choose the person.” Rebecca replaced the last shoe box in the closet. “Actually, now that Mr. Miami finally called me, that’s probably a definite.”

  “It’s going that well, huh?” Shelby grinned over at her room mate, noticing once again how happy she looked.