Written on Your Skin Read Online Free PDF Page A

straight from the cushion. It was incredible. Robbie, some twopenny Englishman whom Mama had jilted twenty years ago, was going to guide her actions? “What does he care? He forgot about you decades ago! Who cares what anyone in England thinks? You yourself said it—they would be glad to see you dead in a gutter!”
    “Stop it.” Mama stalked to the dresser to grab a comb. She smoothed her hair with an angry hand, twisted it up, then stabbed in the comb to hold it. “I am shocked by you.” As she pivoted back, her chest rose and fell on a long breath. “That you dare to speak such things to me…. It’s clear that I’ve failed you somehow. He is my husband, whom I vowed before God to love and obey. And as his daughter, it is your duty—”
    “I am not his daughter,” Mina said flatly. “And I made no vow to him. But he made one to you, didn’t he? Has he kept his vow?”
    Mama gave a queer laugh. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh, Mina. You’re so young. Far younger than I ever was. I expect it’s your father’s fault; he spoiled you so terribly. What do you know of marriage? Nothing at all.”
    She knew enough about it to feel uncertain that she ever wished to learn more. “Would Papa have made you cry like this?” When Mama pressed her lips together and did not answer, she felt resentment twist in her throat. She spat it out with her next words. “Would Robbie?”
    Mama’s frown faded. She stared into space for a long moment. “No,” she said. “Robbie was everything good and kind. Though one can never say, I suppose. Love does fizzle, with time.” Her gaze focused on Mina. “And your father was quite good to me as well; don’t mistake me on that. But when he died and left us without the first red cent, that was not love. That was not caring.” As Mina gaped at her, she made an impatient noise. “You think me mercenary? You’ll learn in time that there are all manners of caring. Some are far more useful than others in this world.”
    Mina rose. It felt almost like relief, to be given a credible reason to be angry. “You are lecturing me on the value of money? You? The woman who bemoans that she tossed away her true love for a share in Papa’s dirty American fortune?”
    “You will address me with respect, or you will hold your tongue!”
    “I know I should speak with respect, and I would try to do it, but when you slink behind Collins like a dog with its tail between its legs, I begin to think you don’t deserve any!”
    Mama stepped forward and slapped her.
    The pain was not so great, really. She would not cry. Mama cried very easily, but Mina never wept; even when Monroe had cracked her nose, she’d shed no tears.
    But as she lifted her hand to her face and felt how the impact had left her cheek hot, something inside her seemed to shift, to break away and dissipate. The sense of its loss touched her so sharply that she made a low noise. “And now you hit me. For what? For his sake? I see whose love you find more useful.”
    “Don’t be foolish.”
    Her voice barely found the strength to serve the words. “Oh, Mama. I am not the fool here.”
    Her mother’s mouth flattened. “I lost my temper, and I am sorry for it. It is a terrible example to set for you. But I will tell you that this episode makes me agree with Gerard. You are too headstrong for your own good. Mr. Bonham claims to admire your spirits. Very well, let him deal with them.”
    Mina laughed in disbelief. “You made your path, and you chose to walk it. But I’ll certainly not walk it with you. I want nothing to do with Bonham.”
    Mama’s brows lifted, and her shoulders squared. For a moment, she looked like the woman Mina remembered from earlier years—proud, composed, assured of her own worth. “That path keeps you in silks,” she said. “But I see how much it pains you to endure such luxury. Poor Mina. How terrible, to be paired with the most eligible bachelor on the continent.”
    “As if