Vintage Love (203 page)

“And now we must work hard to get you well,” John Hastings said.

The invalid girl nodded. “I do so want to put on a pretty dress and attend the wedding. If only I can be there, I’ll go straight back to bed afterwards.”

“We’ll see!” he said with good humor, and took out his stethoscope to examine her. After he’d given her a thorough going over, his verdict was, “There is surely some improvement. I’m pleased.”

Joy was also pleased. This seemed to indicate that she had made the right choice in deciding to marry Sir George; her decision showed in his sister’s health. But Dr. John Hastings did not seem enthusiastic about the match, and this worried her some.

She was in for a surprise that same day. She returned home to find Hilda with some startling news for her. She said, “I am going to be married.”

“You, too?” Joy said, delighted.

“Yes. Since you’ve decided to marry I felt the time had also come for me.”

“Who are you marrying?”

Hilda smiled shyly. “Someone whom I’ve long been in love with. Your brother, James.”

“James!” Joy exclaimed. She ran to her friend and hugged her. “I’m so delighted!”

Hilda kissed her. “I prayed you would approve.”

“The family will be so happy,” Joy said. “They were troubled by the thought of your leaving us.”

“I shall try to be a proper daughter-in-law,” Hilda promised.

Joy sat on a divan, facing her friend and companion. “What are your plans?”

“We’re to be married a week after your marriage to George. A quiet affair. After all, I am a widow. I cannot wear a white wedding gown. But I’m sure James and I shall be happy. He plans to buy a fine house not far from here.”

Joy said, “Let us pray that this time your marriage will be blessed by little ones. James will want children to carry on the line.”

“I’m sure I can give them to him,” Hilda said with a smile.

That evening at dinner, Joy saw James for the first time since Hilda’s announcement. She congratulated him at once. “I’m so happy you’re marrying Hilda.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I wish I could be as happy about your betrothal. Truthfully, I can’t.”

“I’m accepting the risk.”

“George is older than you. He is debauched. He has spent nearly all his money. He could be marrying you merely for your inheritance.”

“I’m willing to gamble on him.”

James looked worried. Awkwardly, he said, “I have concealed some things from you. I know George has seen other women since your engagement. And he’s still gambling, though not so wildly.”

“Let us give him time to change,” she sternly said.

Her brother sighed. “As you wish.”

On the wedding day it rained torrents! Whether or not this was a bad omen, the cathedral was crowded. Rachel managed to attend with a maid on either side to give her support. No one could guess to look at her that the happy, pink cheeked girl was desperately ill. She wore a hat, and a dress especially cut to conceal her thinness. Her taffeta gown of pink had been made by the identical seamstress who had created Joy’s gown.

Sir Richard looked every inch the proud father in his formal attire, and Lady Susan dabbed a hankie to her eyes at proper intervals. James was there with Hilda at his side. Nancy Gray, who had just returned from Scotland, was likewise there. She had lost her childhood freckles, and was a beauty. She looked radiant as she attended Joy.

George and Joy made a handsome pair. Sir Richard stood ready to give the bride away as the Bishop, in his crimson cassock, read the text of their wedding ceremony. In this moment of elation, none of them guessed the tragedies that lay ahead. Only the face of Dr. John Hastings, who sat far back in the cathedral, was plainly lined with concern.

The wedding party provided by Lord Richard at Berkeley Square was one of the most elaborate in memory. Or at least that was the opinion of many of those present. There was music, food, dancing, and flowing champagne. The groom was, perhaps, the heartiest celebrant of all, and early in the evening he showed evidence of having too much to drink.

Rachel had been so weak that any thought of attending the party was out of the question. Dr. John Hastings had kindly offered to see the invalid safely home. He apologized for not attending the party, but Joy had the feeling he was happy to be able to avoid it. He had not looked in the best of spirits.

Nancy came to her and said, “This has been a wonderful day. It is so good to be back in London and to see you.”

Joy smiled at her. “What are your plans?”

“There is a young man,” her friend said shyly. “He has asked me to marry him. I haven’t decided yet. I’ll see you one day and tell you about it.”

“Promise to do that,” she urged her friend. “We mustn’t ever lose each other again.”

“I agree,” Nancy said sincerely. “I must go now. My father is waiting for me.”

James and Hilda came to Joy as Nancy left. It was clear from the expressions on their faces that they were worried.

James said, “We have a problem. George is drunk and he refuses to leave.”

“And it’s time you should both be on your way,” Hilda worried.

Joy said, “I’ll talk to him.”

“You’d better,” James said. “Mother and father are terribly upset.”

She sought George out. He was in the middle of telling a long and complicated story to some equally drunk male friends. She literally dragged him away. The butler helped them with their coats, and prepared against the cold night they bade their friends goodbye. Then they went to the carriage provided by her father.

Soon as he sat in the carriage George fell into a drunken sleep. She sat, and stared at him in dismay. It was not the happiest way to begin their wedding night!

As they rode, she considered their future. Her father had given them a large cash gift before their marriage. George had spent a good part of it fixing up the family mansion, which had fallen into a sad state of disrepair. He had also hired new servants, and a full time nurse for Rachel, at Joy’s insistence. His aunt had elected to lodge with a distant cousin, and thus she was no longer a problem in the house.

One of the upstairs rooms had been transformed into a private parlor for them. George had suggested that they each have their own bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. In this way he could leave for his morning work without bothering her. He didn’t point out that it also gave him the opportunity of returning home late in any condition without her knowledge.

She was roused from her reverie as the carriage arrived at the Nason mansion. George roused from his drunken sleep and put on a good show. He gave the driver a tip and joked with him. The housekeeper was there to greet them.

She undressed in her own bedroom and put on a flowing chiffon gown. She was standing by the mirror brushing her long, blonde hair when her husband entered the room in his robe and came to her.

He smiled at her, but he was unsteady as he bent to kiss her on the neck. “I love you dearly,” he said, his voice husky. Then he led her to the bed.

Their lovemaking proved an anticlimax. It was a tepid exchange. When he had completed his husbandly duties he murmured, “Sorry. I drank too much!” And he lurched to his feet, threw his robe over his arm, and unsteadily made his way to the bathroom. Soon she heard him retching! She drew the bedclothes over her naked body. So this was her wedding night!

When she awoke the next morning, George had left for the newspaper office. She had breakfast in bed, then dressed, and went to Rachel’s room to see how the sick girl was. She was shocked to find her so weak she could not sit up in bed.

But the unhappy girl’s face wore a radiant smile. “Such a lovely wedding! The most wonderful moment of my life. I was there and stayed for it all!”

Joy worried, “I fear you over taxed yourself.”

Rachel had a coughing fit. Then managed, “It was worth it.”

She asked, “Do you expect Dr. Hastings?”

“Yes,” Rachel said. “This is his day.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “You’re feverish and coughing too much.”

“I don’t mind,” Rachel said. “How did the party go?”

“Very well.”

Rachel said, “I watched George at the altar as he made his vows. I know he’ll make you a good husband.”

“Of course he will,” Joy said quietly.

A little later, Dr. John Hastings arrived. He nodded to Joy and said, “The bride! I’m surprised you and Sir George didn’t go away for a few days.”

“It wasn’t convenient.”

“I see,” he said. “I disliked missing the party. But I enjoyed seeing Rachel home.”

“You have been so good to me,” Rachel said and began another fit of coughing.

The doctor gave Joy a significant look and then at once began an examination of the sick girl. Later he and Joy left the sickroom together.

When they were safely out of Rachel’s hearing, she gave him a troubled glance and said, “I’m alarmed at her condition, doctor.”

His manner was somber. “You have a right to be. She is worse.”

“Don’t desert her, Doctor!”

“That is the last thing I shall do,” John Hastings said. “I’m always at your call, Lady Nason.”

In the days that followed, few visitors appeared at the old mansion. Joy felt it might be because they knew George’s sister was so ill, or perhaps the tradition that young newlyweds ought to be left to themselves. The period of adjustment. She was beginning to fear that such an adjustment might be long in coming or even impossible.

The experience of her wedding night had been unpleasant but worse had followed. George almost regularly came home in a drunken, bad humor. She feared that Rachel might learn of this, and went to great lengths to protect her from the grim business.

She still felt the sick girl was beginning to be suspicious. Once, in the midst of a quite different discussion, Rachel had suddenly asked, “Are you and George happy? Be truthful!”

“How odd of you to ask such a question!” she had replied, parrying the query with this comment.

George also made ominous complaints about not being treated fairly at his work. And he had a habit of showing off before the servants at her expense. He pretended she was being mean with the household accounts when the truth was that he gave her less than enough to pay their bills. Further, he seemed unduly attracted to one of the pretty maids, Anne.

He even complained that she was proving an uninteresting bed partner. She suspected this was because in his usual half drunk state he was unable to properly perform his duties as a husband. There were scenes, and cruel comments on his part which often left her alone in her bedroom weeping.

Her mother called on her, and worried about her living under the same roof with the dying Rachel. Her mother warned her, “You know how catching consumption can be!”

“We take every precaution,” Joy insisted.

“You don’t look well,” her mother said grimly. “And I’ve been hearing scandalous stories about your husband’s actions. He is causing much gossip.”

“I know, mother,” she said quietly.

Lady Susan sighed. “If he mistreats you I demand that you let your father and I know. We will not have you mistreated!”

“Don’t worry!” she told her.

After her mother left, Joy went to her bedroom and stared at herself in the mirror of her dresser. She saw that it was true. She looked ill and old. The strain of living with the moody George was showing.

A few nights later he came home less drunk than usual, but behaving in a strange manner. He complained of weariness early in the evening, and suggested they retire. He saw her to her bedroom and kissed her goodnight. She felt his trembling with passion and knew he was expecting a session of lovemaking.

“I shall return shortly,” he said in a thick voice.

Something in all this alarmed her. Shortly after, he entered in his dressing gown with an uneasy look on his handsome face. In his hand he held a horsewhip with a long thin lash.

He came close to her, and with a harsh voice ordered her, “Take the whip!”

She stared at him puzzled. “Why?”

“You’ll know soon enough!” he said, and took off his robe, standing before her nude. “I want you to whip me as hard as you can! On the buttocks and the back!”

She shook her head. “I can’t!”

“I need to be excited, you little fool!” he snarled, pushing the whip on her.

Joy stumbled back. “I hate you!”

“Then whip me!”

In a shocked state she used the whip. He urged her on until his buttocks and back were lined with great purple welts! Then he cried for her to stop, tore off her nightgown and savagely took her.

When it was over he abruptly left her. She lay sobbing, aware that her marriage had turned into a nightmare. She longed to confide in someone, seek help, but her pride would not let her do this.

Then one afternoon an apologetic, young man came to the house with a suitcase. The maid showed him into the living room and notified Joy.

When she entered the room and asked, “What can I do for you?”

The young man rose and said, “I’m from the newspaper.”

She smiled. “Won’t you sit down.”

He looked uneasy. “I’m only here to bring back some things Sir George left at our office.”

“Left at your office?” she echoed.

The young man looked more uncomfortable. “The owner asked me to bring them here. You see Sir George has not been at the newspaper for some time. He is no longer employed with us.”

Stifling her shock, she said, “That is kind of you. Thank you.” She fought to hold back her tears. But as soon as she saw him out, she fled weeping to her bedroom.

At the same time, Rachel’s condition became worse. She lapsed into a coma-like state. Joy could not even talk to the sick girl. When her husband returned that night, she challenged him, “What about your job?”

His face crimsoned. “I can make a better living in the gambling salons.”

“That is utter nonsense!”

George sneered at her. “Don’t be so self-righteous. If I had a happier marriage I might have tried harder.”

“That is a lie!” she told him. But he didn’t wait to hear her. He rushed out of the room and away from the house.

Invitations came for the marriage of James and Hilda. She wrote them both notes explaining she could not attend the ceremony as Rachel’s condition was so grave she might die at any moment. She did not add that it would be a grim farce for she and George to attend the wedding.