A Mad, Wicked Folly (29 page)

LAY ON MY
bed, feigning a headache for the rest of
the day. I didn’t want to face Edmund or his father.
Sophie came in a few times to check on me, a worried
look on her face. She asked me once what was wrong,
but I couldn’t say. I couldn’t bring myself to admit that my

In the evening, Sophie dressed me for dinner in one of
my new gowns, a dark lavender crepe de chine. I opened
my jewelry box to choose accessories and I saw the mermaid that Lucy and I had made. I could use a little of her
courage to face Sir Henry at dinner so I scooped her out
and pinned her to my gown.

Several of Edmund and India’s friends had come to join
us for dinner that evening, including Edmund’s best friend,
Kenneth. Edmund unbent in Kenneth’s presence. All tension left him, and he relaxed utterly, joking and messing
about with him and two other boys from Oxford.

Dinner passed without event. The men talked about
pheasant this time and what the weather would be like
on the hills for shooting tomorrow. I smiled and nodded, chatting with India’s friends and feeling like a
clockwork automaton. Edmund barely met my gaze at
the table, apart from once when I caught him eyeing me
nervously.

After Jonty and Sir Henry retired, Kenneth proposed
a game of baccarat for the gentlemen. India and several
of her friends played ragtime tunes on the gramophone
and danced the turkey trot, giggling. I sat on a settee and
watched, playing wallflower.

The clock struck midnight when I felt a hand on my
shoulder. “Victoria,” Edmund said. “I wonder if I might
have a word.”

He took my hand and drew me to the back of the room.
Edmund looked flushed and out of sorts; his bow tie was
crooked and he reeked of whiskey. “I must ask a favor of
you.” He put his elbow up against the wall by my head and
leaned in. His breath was warm on my cheek as he whispered, “My father will not give me my allowance until next
week, and I have need of money. Kenneth has emptied my
pockets, damn his eyes, but I have a chance to win it back.
I just need surety to do so.”

“Only a loan, see? Until Monday week, and then I will
pay you back.”
I shrugged. “I’m sorry. I have no money with me.
Besides, I thought it was
middle-class
to talk about money.”
I couldn’t resist the poke, but Edmund didn’t rise.
He brushed his fingers over the brooch. “This will do.”
“Edmund, that’s out of the question. I love this—”
“It’s only a bit of jewelry. If I lose it, I’ll buy you another
one later.”
“I designed this myself. It means a lot to me!”
“Then just make another one.”
“That’s not the point—”
Kenneth leaned back in his chair and glanced at us.
“Edmund. What’s it to be? You in or out?”
“A moment, gentlemen; I’m just speaking with my fiancée,” Edmund said, and then turned back to me. “You’re
making a fuss over nothing.”
I twisted my engagement ring off and held it out to him
on my palm. “If you are so sure you can win it back, then
have this.”
Edmund glanced at my hand. “You’re being ridiculous!
My father bought that. If I lost it, then it would be hell’s
delight!” He snatched up my hand and shoved the ring
back onto my finger. “Now stop making a scene and give
me your brooch.”
“No! I won’t give it to you.”
A look of irritation bled through the calm expression
on his face. He reached for the brooch, and at the same
time I twisted away from him. I felt a sharp tug and heard
my bodice rip. Startled, I looked down to see a long rent in
my gown where my brooch had been. I clamped my hand
to my chest.
I stared at Edmund in disbelief. I could see the mermaid’s tail poking out of Edmund’s fisted hand.
“Sorry, old thing. As I said, I’ll make it up to you.”
I set my jaw and reached down to grab his hand. I tried
to pry his fingers away to get her back, but he was too
strong. He laughed as though we were playing a fun game.
It was useless to fight him. My hand fell away from
his. And I turned and left the room. I felt sick to the pit of
my stomach. I walked down the hall and I could picture
Edmund returning to the table, tossing the mermaid down
upon the pile of tokens. And then with one snap of a card
onto the green baize, losing her in an instant.

IT WAS ONLY
jewelry, only a brooch, I tried to tell myself.
But really it wasn’t just the pin that upset me so much; it
was the utter indifference that Edmund had for something
I loved so much, and the calculated way he ripped it right
from me. As if I needed any further evidence that Edmund
would never stand up for me. He had so little regard for my
wishes or my possessions. He only thought of himself. He
would never side with me against his father. I had piled all
my hopes on Edmund, as if he were a knight in shining armor who would ride into battle for me. But I had given my
favor to the one who refused to leave the castle.

But Edmund wasn’t all at fault. I’d happily played the
role of damsel in distress. And if I didn’t want to remain
the rest of my days
just a girl
, I would have to stand up for
myself.

I rummaged through my art satchel to look for Bertram’s
drawing on the day I posed at Monsieur’s atelier. I found
it and took it over to the lamp. That girl portrayed in the
drawing would have gladly chained herself to the railing,
would have joined the suffragettes in prison. She would
not have depended upon someone else for her livelihood.
She never would have run away from a fight. Who was that
girl?

SAT IN MY
room for several hours, listening for
Edmund to return. It was not hard to stay awake
because my emotions were galloping through me like
a Thoroughbred racing over the turf at Ascot.
At three o’clock in the morning I heard footsteps. I

opened the door and saw Edmund reeling down the corridor. He stopped short when he saw me, and put out a hand
to brace himself against the wall.

He was sloppy, stinking drunk. He grinned and
acknowledged me with a little bow. “Well met, old thing.
Waiting up for me?”

Edmund waved his hand and staggered past me to
open his bedroom door. Haskell was sleeping in a chair in
the corner of the room; his mouth was open and his head
lolled to one side. Edmund flicked the lamp on, and the
valet jumped to his feet, squinting at the light.

“Ha! Caught you sleeping, you bugger!”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Haskell stuttered, moving
forward to help Edmund shrug out of his jacket. But then
he caught sight of me, and his arms dropped to his side.
“Get out. I can undress myself. Go to bed, will you,”
Edmund said to him.
Haskell bowed and left the room, closing the door
behind him.
“The man is useless,” Edmund muttered. He fumbled at
his buttons and shrugged off his coat, letting it drop to the
floor. “Now, what is it that you want?”
“I have something to say to you, Edmund.”
Edmund made a face. “Is this about that poxy brooch?”
He picked up his coat and fumbled in one of the pockets.
“Here.” He shoved the mermaid at me. “Kenneth didn’t
want it anyhow.”
I took the brooch from him. I was glad to have her back,
but that didn’t change anything. “You were reprehensible,
Edmund. You tore this right off my dress!”
“A mistake! I didn’t mean to do it. I’ll buy you a new
gown.”
“It’s not the gown!” I was growing ever more frustrated
with him. “I told you no, but you took it anyway, even
though it was important to me. Art is my life, yet you don’t
even care to understand that. I can’t be with someone who
refuses to understand me.”
“Not that new-woman claptrap! Mother said you would
never be happy. She knew that night when you opened
your mouth and wouldn’t shut your noise about women’s
rights. I told her you were only trying to get a rise out of
my father, and that you didn’t really mean it. I see now that
I had the wrong end of the stick.”
“None of that matters anymore. I’m ending our
engagement.”
Edmund pulled his case out of his trouser pocket and
took a cigarette out. He lit it and then sat down on his bed,
settling back against the pillows. He looked at me with a
calm expression. “You won’t end the engagement. You’re
just cross right now. I doubt you want to spend the whole
of your life with your Aunt Maude.”
As I watched him smoke the cigarette, I noticed what
a weak chin he had and how his eyes turned down at
the corners and how his lips pouted, as though always
in a sulk. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought he was
handsome.
“Believe what you wish, but I’m quite serious.”
He leaned over to tap the ash into the crystal ashtray
that sat on the nightstand. “So does that bloke you knock
about with
understand
you?”
I stood there, looking at him, hoping I hadn’t heard him
say that. I wanted to pretend to myself that he didn’t mean
Will, that he was asking about someone else, maybe someone I had been talking with at our engagement party. But
Edmund hadn’t left my side once, and most of the boys I’d
talked to were Edmund’s friends.
It was all unfolding in front of me; the two worlds I had
been straddling since France were beginning to collide,
and there was nothing I could do to prevent it happening.
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean,” I finally said, having no
idea what else to say.
“Don’t play that game. You were with a bloke awhile
ago at the house in Chelsea. The caretaker had come to
check because a neighbor told him some people were in
the back garden the week before. He saw the two of you
leaving. I didn’t believe him at first but then he described
that tie you wear, the one with the birds on, and I knew it
was you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
He shrugged. “I assumed it was your brother; maybe
you were showing him the house. I didn’t think you capable of an affair until now. This sudden revelation that you
don’t want to be married anymore made me think maybe
it’s because of this bloke. Your face told me true. So who is
he?”
“I’m not having an affair. He’s my art model. I drew him
in the summerhouse a few times. I told you I didn’t stop
drawing—”
Edmund interrupted, his blue eyes icy. “When you say
you drew him, what exactly do you mean?”
I hesitated. “I . . . I drew him . . . undraped.”
“I don’t know the lingo, Victoria; you’ll have to help me
out.”
“You know what it means,” I said carefully.
Edmund jumped to his feet and grabbed my arm. I
shrank back. I didn’t think Edmund would hurt me, but he
was drunk and he was angry. “Say it! You did it, so
say it!
Out loud!”
I shook my head.
“Go on!” he spat.
“It means without his clothes on! I drew him like that
and I’m not sorry about it. I’d do it again.”
“Is that all you did? Draw?” His voice rose. “Tell me the
truth, Victoria, because somehow I don’t believe you.”
“At first that was all we did, but then . . . then something
happened.”
“What? What happened?”
I swallowed. Edmund had every right to be angry, had
every right to know the truth. “We kissed. It was just the
once.”
Edmund dropped my arm.
“I didn’t mean it to happen, Edmund. I didn’t. I ended it.
I haven’t seen him in a long time. He has nothing to do with
why I’m breaking our engagement.”
Edmund stepped away from me and pulled the tail of
his shirt down. “You’ve certainly hidden your true colors.”
“You’re right. I tried to act like someone I wasn’t. That’s
not fair to you. You never made out to be anyone else.”
“Quite right,” he said. “I’m no phony. You are, though.”
I twisted off the engagement ring and held it out to him.
He grabbed it out of my hand and tossed it into his ashtray,
where it landed among the mashed-up cigarette butts and
ashes. “I don’t want you, anyhow. You’re debauched, as far
as I’m concerned. I’m breaking our engagement, and I’ll tell
everyone the reason why.”
I knew he was talking out of anger, and maybe he
wouldn’t say such things to me if he weren’t drunk, but it
hurt me all the same. “I thought you didn’t care about that.
Isn’t that what you told me before? The king doesn’t care
about such social conventions, so why should we?”
“The king was never made a cuckold or a laughingstock by Queen Alexandra’s actions. Think of it. A lowly
caretaker saw my fiancée at our home with another man.
And I won’t be packed off to the navy because of you.”
“I’m sorry, Edmund. I’m sorry for everything,” I said,
and I left the room.
As soon as the sun rose, I rang for Sophie and asked her
to arrange for our departure home with one of the footmen. And we left before anyone else awoke.

TOLD SOPHIE EVERYTHING
as we rode the train
home to London.
“What will you do now?” she asked.
“I’m going to implore Freddy to help me get our
father on my side.” After all, Freddy had convinced Father

that publishing was the right path for him. Perhaps if I laid
out my plans, explaining exactly what I would do, so as
not to appear like an impetuous girl, he might understand.
I couldn’t help but think about the look of admiration Papa
had had on his face when I explained the telephone to him.
I would talk to him in the same way. And Mamma—I would
appeal to her, artist to artist. She’d defended me to my
father before; surely there was a chance she would again.

I needed to cobble a plan together before they returned
home from the continent tomorrow morning, before Sir
Henry was able to speak to him. Edmund would have told
his father about Will, and Sir Henry would tell Papa. Freddy
had said he would always be on my side. If he spoke to our
parents with me, helped me convince them, then I might
have a chance.

It was nearing two o’clock, so Freddy would be at the
Reform Club in Pall Mall. As soon as the train alighted at
the station, I sent Sophie home with my luggage and art
satchel and I took a hansom cab to the club.