Willow Grove Abbey (5 page)

“Well, I believe that
man has free will, and that he can choose whichever path he wishes. However, one path will always lead to his destiny, and is the correct one to take. Some people make mistakes, and take the wrong path. Nevertheless, we don’t live in a perfect world. Anyway, when it comes to people falling in love, finding their soul mate, then I believe it will happen, no matter where you are or what you’re doing. When the time is right. What happens from there depends upon choices that both parties make.”

“So, you believe in soul
mates? I’m not certain that I do. I often think that there are many persons one could love.”

“
Sophia, I believe that we can err and take the wrong path, thinking that we’ve discovered our soul mate. That could be a heart wrenching mistake. I believe there is only one true soul mate for every other. That perfect person, with whom you feel an affinity from the moment you meet. The one God intended for you.”

That co
mment was one of the dearest I’d ever heard. ‘
The one God intended for you.’
No one had ever expressed such a view to me, and I scarcely knew how to answer him.

“
I’m older than you are, Sophia. I’ve thought I found my soul mate many times, particularly when I was a boy,” He placed his hand upon mine. “However, I’m now beginning to think that those would have been utterly wrong paths.”

I
felt the color rise in my cheeks
Oh Lord. Is he serious, or is this just the flirtatious way that men behave?
I was pathetically naïve. “Spence, if you’re implying that you think that I could be your soul mate, I’m, well of course, I’m terribly flattered. But.... But, we scarcely know one another.”

“
Sophia, I don’t mean to alarm or upset you. As I said, I’m older than you are. I just know that I feel an attraction for you that’s rare, at least for me. I have known my share of women. No one has set sparks alight inside of me like you do. However, I don’t want to rush you, or to give you false impressions. I’m finding myself in a bit of a quandary,” he replied.

I
looked down at the table, not knowing how to respond. My heart was thumping.

Thank Goodness, the waiter once again returned. This time he bore a third tray... a selection of chocolate fancies.
Gracious, when does this end? “
We shall be here until midnight, with the waiter still presenting trays of delicacies’ to us! I spoke my thoughts aloud, and Spence and I both broke into low laughter. We looked like two misbehaving children.

“Your
eyes make my heart do somersaults,” he suddenly murmured.

I wanted to tell hi
m that I felt the same way about his eyes, but was uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. He sensed that, and made an obvious effort to change the subject. Clearing his throat, he lighted a cigarette and poured me another cup of tea, before re-filling his own cup.

“Right.
Shall we talk of something else? Perhaps it’s too soon for me to be telling you these things. I’m not usually so forward on a first outing with a young lady. You see the influence you already are having upon me? He winked at me jokingly. But, enough of that.”

I lifted my eyes, and took another sip of tea “I notice that you speak in the past tense when you refer to Abbott’s Leigh? Have you no family there anymore, then?”

“No.
Both of my parents died in a beastly accident, when I was fifteen. It was a boating accident. They were in a high-powered craft.... but I was already off at school, so I suppose you could say I really didn’t have a home after that. I just spent school holidays with assorted relations.”

“That sounds terribly
tragic. And, have you no brothers or sisters?”

“No,
but many aunts, uncles, cousins, and other persons who are family, so I’ve never felt alone.”

“Are they in Abbott’s Leigh?
”

“No, as a
matter of fact, most are in Ireland.”

“Ireland?
Do you mean they’re Irish?” My heart plummeted to my toes. I could just picture my mother’s face.

“Yes.
My mother was Irish. She was born and raised in County Cork. My father met her on holiday after he finished school. She was a nurse. Her family name was Ryan. That is my second
name. Spencer Ryan Stanton.”

I
was a bit uncomfortable about asking the next question, but felt that I had to know the answer. “I don’t mean to be ill-mannered, but does that mean you’re a Roman Catholic?”

“
Yes, that’s what it means, Sophia. Is that an awful thing to be? He smiled, and his eyes twinkled.

“Oh, no. Not at a
ll. It’s just that, we . . . my parents are . . . You might say a bit narrow when it comes to the subject of religion.” I was completely aghast, trying hard not to show it.

“In other words, they don’t approve of Catholics.”

“To be honest, I’ve never known a Catholic. I mean, I suppose I have
known
some, but not really well. I just know that Mummy is quite rigid in her views on certain subjects. Religion is one of those.”

“A
m I to be barred from the door then?” he asked, in a jocular manner.

“
Of course not. I can’t imagine that they would ever be rude to someone I cared for.”

I
was not so certain
. M
y mother was demented on the topic. I had heard her go into ghastly rants about ‘Papists.”
I played about in the tray of chocolate fancies, and selected one that looked particularly tasty. I honestly had very little appetite left, but I needed something to divert attention from the subject at hand.

“Does
that mean you care for me, Sophia?”

“Now
you’re teasing me again, Spence. As I said, I scarcely know you.”

“And I scarcely know you, but I believe I care for you.”
He seemed so utterly sincere, and I felt that I already knew him well enough to be able to ascertain whether or not he was playing with my emotions. I could have sworn on a Bible that he was being exceedingly honest.

“Well, I believe I
could
care for you. Shall we just leave it at that for now,” I countered, with a smile.

“Perhaps, just for now,” he teased.

We were interrupted a final time, when the waiter presented us with the fourth course... a selection of cakes... Carrot, Fruit and Lemon. Ours eyes met, and once again we fought to suppress laughter. Both of us were full to the brim, but we politely accepted the offering. We both sampled a bit of each cake, and proclaimed them outstanding.

What a
glorious afternoon it was. I couldn’t believe that it was already five o’clock. The time had flown by. I knew that my experience of tea at the
Royal
was one I would treasure forever. I already knew that there was no way that Spence and I would ‘just leave it at that.’ He was very proper when he took leave of me back at Ten Lancaster Gate, but he did ask me to accompany him to the theatre the next evening. I was ecstatic beyond words at the knowledge that he wanted to see me again so soon. Of course, I readily accepted his invitation. He was dreamy, and I could not believe that he actually found me
intriguing. He could have had anyone in the world, and yet for the moment at least, he appeared to want me.

Could
I trust him? That was my primary concern. My parents had raised me to be very wary of what they termed ‘
Fortune Hunters’
or ‘
Opportunists.
’ The message they were attempting to convey was that any man who might show interest in me would be doing so for the possibility of monetary gain. I couldn’t imagine that someone like Spence could possibly love me for myself, no matter how much he protested.

T
he memorable tea at the
Royal
was the beginning of everything. Everything that meant anything to me for the rest of my life. The following night we attended the St. James Theater and saw ‘
Mask of Virtue’
, which had opened to rave reviews in May. We had a lovely evening, and when we arrived back at my brother’s home, he once again asked to see me the next night, and every night thereafter, until he was forced to return to Twigbury, and his medical practice. Even after that, I saw him every weekend.

We did not kiss until we
had known one another nearly a month, but I was mad with desire to do so. We took a picnic to Hyde Park. Spence ordered a delicious basket of delicacies from Fortnum and Mason. There was caviar, liver-pate, cold chicken, assorted cheeses, fresh fruit, biscuits, and dilled parsley potato salad, along with a bottle of Pouilly-Fuse Chardonnay. It was a glorious June day, without a cloud in the sky, and just enough breeze to keep it comfortable. We talked while eating our lunch, of everything from politics to the types of literature we liked. Mostly we found that we agreed on every topic, except that I preferred the earthier Geoffrey Chaucer in my literary tastes, which caused Spence to laugh aloud. We moved from that topic, to that of soul mates again, and love. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sun shone upon his skin, which had turned golden from time spent out of doors that summer. He wore a white linen shirt, rolled at the sleeves, and light weight summer trousers in pale beige. I must have resembled a copy of the famous artist Benson’s painting
Summer Girls,
dressed as I was in white muslin, trimmed with lace at the high collar and cuffs. My heart caught in my throat when he said that he knew with certainty that he had found his soul mate.

“Oh Spence”, I
smiled in return; “I do feel as though I have known you forever. Isn’t that strange?”

He took a last sip of
his wine, and placed the glass back into the picnic basket. Then, he turned to me and took me into his arms. Birds sang in the trees, and a nanny pushed a pram on the graveled pathway. I could hear the voices of children playing in the distance. “No, it isn’t strange, Sophia. It’s exactly as it should be.” He gently pulled me close to him, and placed his lips upon mine. I had never been kissed like that before. I felt so close to him. I began to understand what Edwina meant when she spoke of passion. “Sophia, I believe we have known one another forever. You are exactly as I knew you would be. You even have old, soul eyes.”

“What are
old soul’
eyes?” I asked, still in his arms, hoping for another kiss.

“Eyes that look like they
have lived many lives, and have experienced many emotions.” He played with a lock of my hair, and then kissed me again with heightened passion. I felt butterflies in my stomach. One kiss led to another, and I told him, between kisses, that he took my breath away.

***

As the summer moved swiftly by, I felt that I needed
more,
although I could not have defined what
more
meant. I just knew that our kisses were leading to something. He truly did render me speechless. He confused me at times, because one moment he acted as though he could not get enough of me.... Of my kisses . . . Of holding me. Then, he would suddenly end an embrace, as though he had remembered that it was not appropriate behavior. I did not know how to assess his actions. The most logical explanation was that he was concerned because we were from such opposite ends of the spectrum, when it came to social class, and because of the difference in our religions. I wondered if my position in the upper classes worried him. It was all so terribly confusing. I could see no Earthly reason for a problem arising from the fact that he did not own land, and didn’t have a title. I respected him more than anyone I’d ever met, and knew that, if anything, he would have preferred that I was just a simple girl, from a middle class upbringing, and not a member of the nobility. That particular part of the equation played no part in the feelings we had for one another. The worrisome aspect was whether my parents would view the matter as we did. It was hard for me to understand why Mummy had not been of noble birth, and yet was perfectly acceptable as a wife to Papa, yet in reverse circumstances, Spence wasn’t a proper choice for me. It made no sense, but many of the peculiar positions my parents held, on various matters, never did make sense. There was no question in my mind that Spence was looking ahead to a future that included much more than simple picnics in the park and theater openings. So was I. While I had vowed upon graduation from
Ashwick Park
that I was not going to immediately settle for the ‘suitable man’, marry young, and settle down to being a wife and mother at a tender age, my meeting Spence had radically altered my views. I could think of nothing that would please me more.

I
had not told my parents that Spence was Catholic, nor that his mother was Irish I suspected that Drew had been right in May, when he’d warned me not to develop any serious feelings for Spence. My parents were going to be furious at his lack of a title and wealth. The additional fact that he was an Irish Catholic would probably make them apoplectic. In fact, I’d not even divulged that information to Drew or Blake, knowing that it would only lead to a repeat of the discussion we’d had on the night I first met Spence. Neither of my brothers had a bigoted bone in their bodies, but Mummy and Papa were an entirely different matter. I suspected that those difficulties weighed heavily upon Spence as well.

However, n
o amount of warning, schooling, or upbringing had taught me how to overcome feelings of the heart. I simply continued to grow ever fonder of him, as our relationship grew. No one had ever made me laugh the way he did, nor shown such interest in my thoughts and feelings; no one had ever made my heart race the way it did as I glided with him across a dance floor. I couldn’t describe the feelings that were surging through me. Sometimes I felt that I could walk on water, and sometimes, for no reason whatsoever, when I heard a sweet love song, or walked in the garden on a warm, sunny day, I suddenly burst into tears. Edwina told me that it was true, first love, with all of its pathos and longing. I had never felt it before. I’d not told Spence that I loved him, nor had he said those words to me, but I
knew
... s
imply knew...
that it was only a matter of time. It was a romantic, idyllic summer, and I wished it might never end. Even though I continued to see others, most notably Owen Winnsborough, so as not to start tongues wagging about Spence, no one came close to touching my heart the way Spence did, and I already knew that no one ever would.

Edwina
left for Paris in September, and I missed my dear friend greatly. However, because I was so consumed with Spence, her departure had less impact upon me than might otherwise have been the case. She settled into a flat near
The Esmod School,
in the ninth Arrondissment, and settled into the life she had looked forward to for such a long time. We wrote often, and
she seemed very happy. Edwina was clearly living the quintessential Bohemian life. She had already made several friends, which didn’t surprise me in the least. It was amusing for me to think of the changes that had taken place since the times when Edwina and I had giggled about Prince Edward in our room at
Ashwick Park
. Only a summer later, I found Spence infinitely more attractive than the Prince.

Su
mmer gave way to autumn, and the days were cooler. There was a nip in the air, and the lush trees began their annual change to burnished gold, red, and russet. I began to cajole and beg Spence to allow me to visit him in Twigbury. I was mad with wanting to go. At first, he seemed reluctant to agree to such a rendezvous, but finally acquiesced. Annie and Drew discussed the visit’s appropriateness, and made the decision that they would accompany me as chaperons. We settled upon the weekend of November the first. We made plans for a stay at the
Twigbury Court Hotel
, a charming old fifteenth century Inn, well known in that ancient Cotswold village. I blessed them for being such a loving brother and sister-in-law, especially since they were willing to keep the trip secret from my parents. We decided that if my parents knew of the journey, it would only raise questions that I wasn’t yet prepared to answer.

For so
me reason, I knew before we ever reached Twigbury, that the weekend would turn out to be one of the most important in my life. I couldn’t have said why that was so, but I was certain it was true. We drove from London on a Friday afternoon, arriving in Twigbury a little past
five o’clock. By half after five, we were settled into our marvelous suite, which boasted that King Charles had once been its occupant. The rooms were delightful and grand. There was an enormous drawing room, with a huge stone window seat, overlooking the garden, grounds, churchyard, and stream. Furnished with breathtaking antique pieces, a large fireplace dominated that area. Two bedrooms connected to the drawing room, both with large, antique canopy beds, topped with thick, goose-down comforters. The bathrooms were large and Victorian, with mahogany encased tubs, and the hotel itself was an imposing mansion. Tudor in style, it was run on country house lines. The Twig River formed the boundary of the picturesque grounds, and inside there was a comfortable, homey feeling. There was also a large, well-proportioned paneled lounge, with a huge open fireplace, leaded windows and an imposing main staircase surrounding a first floor gallery. As a final added touch, there was even an in-residence Irish setter, named
Teddy
. I found it thoroughly captivating. Spence was at the door within minutes of my call. I heard his exquisite, yellow roadster as it drove up the graveled lane through the gates, which led to the main entrance. Peering out of the window I watched as he disengaged himself from behind the wheel, and strode toward the hotel. When I opened the door to the suite he wrapped me in a warm embrace. Then he shook hands with Drew, and kissed Annie on the cheek.

“How splendid
to have you here,” he exclaimed. “I so seldom have visitors. I cannot tell you how much this means.”

“It was a grand opportunity
for us to take a weekend holiday. One forgets how nice the country can be,” answered Drew. “Especially at this time of year”.

“Would you like to dine here at the
hotel, or we can go to the
King Charles Hotel
, just down the lane? I thought we’d drive over to Broadway tomorrow, and dine at the
Ashton Arms
.”

“What a
marvelous idea, Spence! I have always wanted to visit there. Can you believe I never have?” I exclaimed, sounding like an excited little girl, which was exactly the way I felt.
The Ashton Arms
was a venerable old coaching Inn with a reputation known throughout England. I’d heard of it since a youngster.

“Then we’re going to re
medy that,” Spence smiled. “Why don’t we begin right now by going for a walk? I’ll show you where I have my medical practice.”

Drew and Ann
ie discreetly declined his invitation, clearly recognizing that Spence and I cherished every moment we could be alone together. We found our way down the staircase, and across the flagstone floor leading to the outer doors. We walked hand in hand down the graveled road, past a row of ancient old cottages called Wellington Row. Then we continued on to the paved main street, which wound its way through the village of Twigbury. About a half mile further, we came upon a Cotswold stone building, with high-pitched eaves. It cut into the hillside across from herbaceous gardens, a local trout farm and a duck reserve. A natural spring rose there to feed the river Twig, in a picture-postcard setting. At once, I understood why Spence had decided to fill-in for the physician who owned the medical practice in Twigbury.

“Spence, it’s
breath-taking. I never expected it to be so lovely. This is where you work?”

H
e laughed. “Quite. I feel I’m a rather fortunate chap. As I’m doing paperwork at the end of the day, I stop and listen to the sounds of the river, and cannot imagine being anyplace else on earth.”

I can see why.
It’s heavenly.”

He took
my hand and led me through the doors of the small structure that housed his
office. Inside, all was a model of efficiency. There was a comfortable waiting area, three examining rooms, and an office, where there sat a dark, polished desk stacked with papers, and silver frames, holding photographs. I picked up one of the photos and examined it. It portrayed a stunning woman, with dark hair done-up like a
Gibson girl
, and a lovely smile. Spence was almost the spitting image of her. She was standing next to a handsome man, who held a small boy in his arms. It was clearly a photograph of Spence and his parents.

“What a h
andsome family,” I remarked.

“Yes.
My parents must not have been much older than I am now when that photo was made. I wish they might have lived to see my life today.”

“They’d
be proud of you, Spence.”