An unpaved road (tentative)
an excerpt

It was after midnight and Sarah should have been sleeping, but the characters in her head urged her awake and wouldn’t let her rest until she had recorded their every movement and conversation. The candlelight cast a small circle of light on her meager writing desk. With every sound she jumped, ready to stash her handwritten pages in the drawer with the flick of her wrist.
She wrote and crumpled papers and wrote some more. The words didn’t sound right the first time, but they didn’t sound any better the second either, she thought. She crumpled the paper again and put her pen to paper again. Before the tip touched the paper she thought about what she wanted to convey in the scene she saw so clearly in her head, but couldn’t get quite right on the paper before her. It was almost as if there was some quality, however minute and intangible, that should have been in the words that weren’t. For a long moment she didn’t write anything. Sarah just stared at the firelight as it flickered on the wall.
After a few minutes she began to write again. This time it felt right, this time the words did describe the scene she saw in her head. Suddenly the world around her fell away and she was carried away into her own world. The large bed with floral quilt was no longer brushing against her leg. Her lounging chair was not sitting on the other side of the room, nor was her wash basin near the door waiting to be filled and used. She was in a different world, a world that was much kinder to women then reality seemed to be.
Because she was no longer in her world, she failed to hear the absence of slow rhythmic breathing that signified the sleeping house. Sarah was unaware that the sun had come up and the house was stirring under her. She also failed to notice the chill that was setting in around her. Her long gown covered her feat and her bed socks kept the chill from her toes, but her arms had goose bumps. It was this that stirred the servant girl. She had awoken to the chill setting in and her aim was to add wood to the fire before the family could awake.
“Miss, I did not know that you had already risen. I would have awaked sooner to warm the house more had I realized that you were going to wake early. I apologize.” Marguerite quickly went to the hearth in Sarah’s room.
Sarah startled and quickly pushed her papers in the drawer as she had intended to the moment she heard footsteps near her door. Unfortunately she never heard them. “Marguerite, I did not intend to wake early, so do not be so hard on yourself. I merely felt the urge to write to my cousin Annie that is all.”
Marguerite looked at her for a moment before adding more wood to the fire, she was made more suspicious by Sarah who could not meet her eyes, but it was not her business what her employers do. When the fire had licked up around the hearth, Marguerite took her leave and Sarah moved to the bed where she lay back and mentally derided herself for not hearing Marguerite at the door.
“Everyone already thinks I am not what a woman should be. If they find out that I am writing other then cookbooks and letters, they will surely think I am fit for the sanitarium.” Sarah let out a little laugh at herself and then laughed harder at the thought that she was in a room alone laughing at herself. “Maybe I am fit for the sanitarium.” She rolled over and lay in bed waiting for Marguerite to bring in the warm water for the basin.
By the time Marguerite was back, she had closed her eyes and was fast asleep. Marguerite had to shake her awake, regretfully so. “I’m sorry miss, but the dinner party is today and I would let you sleep any other day, but you know how your father is in entertaining guests. Especially eligible bachelor guests.” Marguerite raised her eyebrows in a knowing gesture.
“Ugh, Marguerite, is that today? I had forgotten about the dinner party. I wish you had never reminded me.” Sarah let out a radiant smile and rose from her bed. “Actually, I just wish it wasn’t happening altogether.” Marguerite helped her wash and dress. She pulled the corset tight and buttoned up the dress and the whole process took the better part of an hour. When the task was complete Marguerite went to the kitchen. Sarah was close behind her stopping at the table in the dining room.
The table was already set with biscuits and jam. Sarah sat down and pulled two biscuits to her plate and took a spoonful of the apricot jam and put it on her plate. When she had put the jam on one of the biscuits, Marguerite returned with a glass of milk.
“Thank you Marguerite.” Sarah offered another of her gleaming smiles and watched as the young girl walked back into the kitchen. Sarah didn’t envy Marguerite her station in life, but she did envy her privacy. For Sarah there was always some dinner party or another. And she would have to withstand the constant parading of her father until she was married off and then no longer her father’s responsibility. She hated the woman’s place in the world. Hated that a woman was always a man’s responsibility, and never responsible for herself.
Sarah finished her biscuits and left the table. She sat in the parlor waiting for Marguerite to tell her the carriage was ready. After a few moments she felt the urge to go back to her room and write, but she could not risk it during the day. Instead she picked up her needlework basket and began stitching embroidery on a table cloth to busy her hands. If she did not do something with her hands, she thought they may betray her and carelessly write in the air and she surely would be sent to the sanitarium. She smiled in spite of herself and while her hands were busy with the embroidery, her mind was not. She was dressing her characters in the latest fashion and parading them down the street, so much was she in her minds eye that she was only brought back to reality when Marguerite tapped her shoulder.
Sarah blushed at the look she received. “I’m sorry, I must have been dozing in my head, I am afraid I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I am sorry to hear that miss. The carriage is ready.” Marguerite backed away from Sarah and waited quietly while she put away her needlework.
Sarah went to the door and waited for Marguerite to bring her riding cloak. She put the cloak over Sarah shoulders and backed away for Sarah to go out the door. Marguerite followed at exactly three paces behind, as a woman and servant should. When Sarah climbed in the carriage she thought about Marguerite and how pleasantly she accepted her station and wished she could be more like her.
When they were in the carriage and the bumpy ride ensued, Sarah asked what the plans were while they were in town. “First we are going to buy a store dress. I hear that McCarthy has some dressed from France and England. Your father wants you to look especially good for this one.” Sarah rolled her eyes and looked away. “Then we are going to the market to buy items for dinner and finally back home to begin preparing for the dinner party.”
Sarah looked out the carriage window for the duration of the trip. She felt more like a prize pony then a person but was trying hard to remain in good spirits. She certainly didn’t want Marguerite to see the sour expression on her face. When the carriage stopped she changed her expression and readied herself to exit the carriage as a lady should, in silence and with a smile.
When they walked into the store, the smell of roses hit Sarah as if she had walked into a rose garden. She stopped briefly and inhaled deeply. Now her smile was genuine, not just the painted one everyone expected from her. She made a mental note to go sit in her garden when the madness from the dinner party was over.
The shop keeper ran out to greet her. “Hello ma’am. It has been a while since you were in here, but I have saved a few dresses in your taste and hope you approve them.” She quickly hurried to the back and brought three dresses with her.
“This one is from Paris and was brought in by boat not more then a week ago.” She held up a long white muslin dress with very intricate embroidery work. It had a train of about six inches that trailed behind it.
“It is beautiful, but I don’t know that father would approve of such a dress. This is supposed to be a very important dinner.” The styles of dress and recently changed to the slimmer look of this new dress, but her father had not changed.
“Oh, of course, men can be so silly about women’s fashions, can’t they?” She giggled a demure little laugh and lowered her head as she did. She handed the French dress to one of her shop assistants and then put another dress in front of Sarah.
“This one came from England. It is white mull cotton with silver embroidery.” Sarah touched the fabric and looked at the intricate embroidery along the bottom hem of the dress. The silver sparkled in the sunlight that shone from the window.
“It is beautiful.” The shopkeeper turned the dress over and let Sarah examine the back. The neckline at the back of the dress was a little lower then the neckline in the front of the dress. Sarah frowned at this. The shopkeeper, intuitive to the change in the expression on Sarah’s face, glanced quickly at the dress to see what Sarah might have noticed.
“Oh, the neckline? Not to worry, miss. We can cover it with a beautiful shawl. Your father would be none the wiser.” Seeing Sarah’s expression unchanged, she decided to try a different tactic. “I do have one more dress that I have been saving. It is surely the best of them.”
She again handed the dress to her assistant. “This is made right here in America. It is cream colored lace muslin with an openwork pattern.” The top of the dress was a shimmering black, while the skirt was dazzling white, covered in embroidery. The long sleeve dress also had a lengthy train and it was a thicker material then the previous two had been. The embroidery was of flowers, leaves and heads of grain. Marguerite smiled at this dress and looked at Sarah who was also smiling. She reached her hand out to touch the fabric and an “ahh” escaped Sarah’s mouth just as her fingers moved along one of the flowers.
“There is no match for the fine craftsmanship for one of our own.” Sarah's smiled deepened. “I think father would approve of this one. What do you think Marguerite?” Sarah looked to Marguerite and waited for her response.
“I think you are right miss. He would surely approve this one.” Now all three women were smiling and nodding.
“I’ll just need to see your letter of approval for purchase.”
“Right away, ma’am.” Marguerite fished in her purse for the letter that John, Sarah's father, had written giving them permission to use his credit at the store. Women needed a letter of approval to purchase from just about every store in town. Men however could spend as they pleased answering to no one.
The shopkeeper looked at the letter and nodded, “It says you have enough to buy one of the other dresses as well.” It was not proper to speak of specifics in finances, so Sarah never knew exactly how much her father spent on her, and as Marguerite could not read, she would not have been able to tell Sarah even if she was allowed to read the letter.
Sarah looked from Marguerite to the shopkeeper. She thought about it and then decided against. Father already thinks I am not a lady as it is, if I spend frivolously on an unnecessary dress father would surely be disappointed. “I will just take this dress, thank you.” The shopkeeper gently placed it in a box and handed it to Marguerite.