“Selah has her own talents,” Katrina said, coming to my defense. “Her needlework might not be as neat as some other girls, but she’s more skilled at healing than any doctor I’ve ever met. Even Mama and Papa agree they’ve never met anyone better.”
“True enough,” Phoebe readily agreed, immediately raising my suspicions. “But there are plenty of feminine arts besides healing and needlework that are admired by the opposite sex. I imagine a man would be much aggrieved to find his wife lacking in certain areas once they were married.”
My cheeks flushed hot, and I had to bite my tongue just to keep it civil.
Nora’s eyes snapped dangerously. “Which areas could those be?”
“How should I know?” Phoebe laughed with an artful toss of her head. “We should ask Selah, since she’s the only one among us who’s married. Have you found Mr. Kilbrid to esteem some talents higher than others?”
My hands fumbled clumsily with the needles, managing an ungainly knot in what was already turning out to be a rather pathetic stocking. Frustrated, I tugged on the thread in a futile attempt to relieve the tension, while reminding myself that it might be a good thing for the matrons to know that Henry and I had yet to consummate our marriage. Not that I appreciated having it brought up like this in front of everyone, especially in a way that made me appear inadequate as a wife.
“I’ve heard Mr. Kilbrid likes the way Selah plays the harpsichord and sings,” Katrina said. She was either completely oblivious to Phoebe’s innuendo, or ignoring it. “Last week he came over to the house with Ben to see Papa about some business. When they were done Papa started reminiscing about the Old World and asked Mr. Kilbrid what he missed the most. Mr. Kilbrid said it was the music, but that he had heard Selah play and sing and thought her very talented.”
“He said that?” I asked, temporarily forgetting Phoebe’s taunts.
“I was sitting in the next room and heard every word,” Katrina said. “He spoke very admiringly, and how he hoped some families could get together for an evening of singing and dancing. He seemed quite pleased when Mama told him about the ball we were planning to properly celebrate your marriage.”
“All anybody can talk about is this new Mr. Kilbrid,” Phoebe said in her usual dramatics. “My own curiosity nearly caused a most dreadful distemper until I finally got a glimpse of him last Sunday when he left the meetinghouse.”
“Do we get to meet him today?” Allison asked hopefully. “Nora says he’s a noble soul for saving you from those bandits.”
“He isn’t at home,” I apologized, though not feeling the least bit sorry at delaying his introduction to Phoebe.
“That’s too bad.” Phoebe’s white teeth flashed in a vicious smile. “Has he gone out on business, or are you keeping him safely locked away somewhere?”
She snickered softly, reveling in my humiliation. I stared at her, truly shocked at how badly I wanted to stick a knitting needle into one of her beautiful blue eyes. Fingering the smooth wood, I thought how easy it would be to stand up under the pretense of needing another pattern and then simply trip over the hem of my gown. No one would suspect it had been done on purpose. And I was fairly certain she could get an eye patch made out of cream silk to match her dress.
Being a true friend, Nora intervened just when I deemed myself capable of real violence. “I’ve been sitting here trying to recall all of God’s commandments from memory,” she started innocently enough, “but I’m having a difficult time with the last one. Listen to me say it. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor anything that is thy neighbor’s. It’s very close, but I just know something’s missing.”
“His ass,” Allison said, not even looking up from her work. “It goes after his ox and before anything that is thy neighbor’s.”
“You’re right,” Nora said, staring straight at Phoebe. “We’ve been commanded not to covet our neighbor’s ass, no matter how fine a beast he may be or how badly we may want to ride him.”
I snorted loudly, and then coughed a few times to cover up my laughter the best I could.
“There’s no good reason for coveting,” Allison agreed, innocent and oblivious. “Gideon Boyle spoke in meeting against it this past Sunday, and how we’re committing sin just by wanting things that other people have.”
“It’s hard to argue with Gideon,” Nora said. “Or with the Lord for that matter. What do you think, Phoebe? Is there ever a reason good enough to justify the sin of coveting?”
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “I’m no expert on religion,” she said with a nasty sneer that, I was pleased to note, somewhat diminished her perfect beauty.
The room fell quiet as we focused on our knitting. I glanced over to Nora with an appreciative smile before turning my attention to the tangle of gray wool hanging helplessly between my needles. The stocking was a disaster, and I thought it a good time to ring for refreshments when I heard raised voices coming from outside.