Perfect Wedding

by Duncan, Alice

  Taking a gander at Marjorie and Jason, Loretta gasped. “Marjorie! Is that blood on your skirt?”

  Peering down at herself, Marjorie was surprised to discover that yes, there was blood on her skirt. “Aye, it’s blood, all right.”

  “Let Marjorie go to her room, clean up, and get some sleep, Loretta. I’ll tell you about it.”

  “Oh, my, you really did have an adventure!” Turning on Marjorie solicitously, Loretta took her arm. “Will you be all right, Marjorie? Do you need any help?

  “Thank you, Loretta, but I’ll be fine. I’m only tired.”

  “You poor thing. Did Jason rope you into helping at his clinic?”

  “Nae. I volunteered.” Marjorie didn’t even resent the shocked glance Loretta shot at Jason or the wry grin he shot back. She’d proved herself to be magnificently conventional during the years they’d known each other. Tonight, from auditioning for a part in Pirates to helping Jason at his clinic, had been an aberration of enormous proportion.

  “Was it bad?”

  Thankful that Loretta had asked the question of Jason so she didn’t have to answer it, Marjorie started up the stairs.

  “Very bad,” said Jason grimly.

  In truth, Marjorie was relieved to hear his answer. If the poor man had to face casualties like that every day of the week, Marjorie might just have to forgive him for being a thorn in her side all these years.

  “Do you need any help, Marjorie?”

  Marjorie was about halfway up the wide staircase. Turning, she looked down upon Loretta and Jason, both of whom were staring up at her, Loretta with a troubled expression on her face, and Jason with a puzzled one on his. Marjorie understood, and smiled. “Thank you, no, Loretta. I’m only tired.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Aye, I’m sure.”

  She felt their gazes upon her until she reached the top of the staircase and walked away from them toward her own room.

  Chapter Five

  Staggering out of bed a little past noon that same day, Marjorie was aghast that she’d allowed herself to sleep so long. She had duties to perform. She had a job to do. No matter that she hadn’t fallen into bed until half past four that morning, she was shirking her responsibilities, and Marjorie MacTavish didn’t do things like that. She was ashamed of herself.

  A clap of thunder had awakened her, and another had accompanied her out of bed. She shuffled to the window and wasn’t surprised to see that the day was gray with overcast, and that a fine drizzle was falling. Those thunder claps presaged heavier rains to come. Well, good. Marjorie would hate it if the day was brighter than she was—and she was definitely not bright.

  After bathing—thank God for modern plumbing!—and dressing in record time, Marjorie twisted her unruly red hair into a knot at the back of her neck and clattered down the staircase and hurled herself into Loretta’s sitting room. Loretta, seated at her desk and writing furiously, glanced up in alarm.

  “Marjorie! Whatever is the matter?”

  “I’m so sorry!” Marjorie gasped. “I dinna know what came over me that I forgot to set the alarm!”

  A frown creased Loretta’s brow. “I should certainly hope you didn’t set the alarm, Marjorie MacTavish. After what you did last night, you deserve to sleep all day if you want to.”

  Frowning in her own right, Marjorie pressed a hand over her thumping heart. “But I have duties to you, Loretta. I am your secretary.” She gestured at the pen and paper before Loretta. “For instance, I probably should be doing that.”

  “Piffle.” Loretta waved Marjorie’s duties away with a small hand. “Your work with Jason last night was ever so much more important than your work for me.”

  “But you’re the one who pays my salary.”

  “That’s right. Therefore, you should obey my orders, and I order you to rest today.”

  “But . . .” It was no use. Marjorie never won arguments with Loretta. She didn’t know why she even tried to make her employer understand her point of view.

  Loretta put her pen down and leaned as far forward over her desk as she could, considering the impediment in her way, and grinned at Marjorie, her bright eyes avid. “Jason told me all about it, Marjorie. How awful it must have been, and yet how thrilling!”

  Because Marjorie knew it would be impossible to bring Loretta to a proper understanding of how Marjorie was failing in her duties as Loretta’s secretary, she sank into the chair on the other side of Loretta’s desk. It had frustrated her from the beginning of her association with Loretta that the woman seemed so little concerned with the way things were supposed to be. Marjorie, who clung to convention the way a drowning man might cling to a life raft, was uncomfortable when her employer waved rules away with such abandon. “I’m your secretary, Loretta. I’m supposed to be working for you, not for Dr. Abernathy.”

  “Fiddlesticks. Tell me, Marjorie!” Pressing a hand to her stomach and making a face, Loretta sat back in her chair. “I can’t wait until this is over with. If I’d known how awful pregnancy would be, I never would have tried it.”

  “One presumes you didn’t try it on purpose,” Marjorie said dryly. She had been more than usually shocked when Loretta had begun an affair with Captain Quarles. She’d known that Loretta claimed to favor what she called “free love,” but she hadn’t expected her ever to practice it.

  Free love. Marjorie almost snorted. There was no such thing, in her experience. Love exacted a price, no matter what a woman’s beliefs about it might be.

  Loretta laughed in delight. “Oh, Marjorie! When we first met, I was sure you had no sense of humor at all, but you do. It’s just wry, is all.”

  Mortified, Marjorie muttered, “I beg your pardon. It wasna my place to—”

  ”Oh, bother your place!” Loretta interrupted her. “If you haven’t learned by this time that there are no set places for people in the United States, you’re beyond redemption, Marjorie MacTavish! But I don’t want to get sidetracked. Tell me all about what happened last night.”

  Marjorie opened her mouth to comply, when Loretta spoke again.

  “Start with the auditions. Jason said he’s going to be the Pirate King.”

  “Auditions?” Marjorie said blankly. It took her a few seconds to recollect. For pity’s sake, she’d forgotten all about the auditions. How funny. Until she’d become involved in Jason’s doctoring efforts, trying out for a part in the Pirates of Penzance had been the most outrageous thing she’d ever done. Now, even the auditions had been eclipsed. “Aye. The auditions.”

  “Jason wouldn’t tell me which part you got. He said you should be the one to tell me. I hope you’re Mabel. You’d make a perfectly gorgeous Mabel.”

  Marjorie’s mouth clanked shut. “You think I’d be a gorgeous Mabel? Why ever d’ye think that?”

  Loretta waved her hand in the air again. She was given to such broad gestures. They matched her personality. And her figure, at the moment. “Because you’re so beautiful, and because you have a spectacular voice.”

  Beautiful? Her? Marjorie MacTavish? She could understand—and almost agree with—the voice issue. But as far as looks went, Marjorie had always deplored hers. Red hair was so . . . so . . . gaudy. It didn’t suit Marjorie’s personality, which was quiet and withdrawn. Confused, she sat there in frowning silence until her employer spoke again.

  “Well,” prodded Loretta. “What role did you get? If you were offered Mabel and opted for one of the Major General’s daughters, I’ll never speak to you again!”

  “Nae. Ye needn’t fear that we’ll have to communicate by notes, Loretta. I accepted the role of Mabel.”

  “Hurrah!” Leaning back, Loretta clapped her hands. A boom of thunder shook the house, she sat forward again, said, “Ow!” and hugged her huge bulge with both arms.

  Startled, Marjorie sprang to her feet and rushed around the desk to the other side. “Loretta! Whatever is the matter? Are the bairns coming?”

  Grimacing horribly, Loretta panted, “No. I don’t t
hink so. I don’t know. I just had a sudden pain, was all.”

  “D’ye need to lie doon?”

  Loretta shook her head. “No, I’m all right.”

  Another thunderclap sent Marjorie to the window to pull the curtains aside. “The rain’s coming down in a torrent.”

  “Good. Knowing the weather’s foul will make me feel less stifled when we stay home today.”

  “Aye. It might be pleasant to sit and read a book while it rains outside.” Marjorie hadn’t had many opportunities to waste time like that until she became Loretta’s secretary. But Loretta handed out free time as if it were candy. Naturally, the thought made her feel guilty.

  “Yes. I’ve got the latest Mary Roberts Rinehart book from the library. I’ve been looking forward to—Ow!”

  Marjorie jumped, let go of the curtain and dashed back to Loretta’s side. “Och, Loretta, what’s the matter?”

  Her employer shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it certainly hurts.”

  “Och, my God! Are these the first contractions, or have ye had others?”

  “First contractions?” Loretta looked at her in astonishment. “Do you think I’m going into labor?”

  Marjorie wished Loretta wouldn’t speak so plainly, although she should be used to it by this time. “I dinna know. But we probably ought to start timing the pains.”

  “Timing the pains? Oh, my goodness. Maybe I am going into labor. It hurts like mad.”

  “Aye. It’ll hurt worse before you’re through, too.”

  “Don’t be so encouraging, Marjorie. I might forget myself and enjoy the experience.”

  Marjorie had never heard her employer speak so sarcastically. Loretta wasn’t given to sarcasm. Unlike Marjorie herself, Loretta had no need for it, since she always spoke her mind. Loretta groaned again and would have doubled over, had she been able.

  “Ye needn’t fret about enjoying it,” Marjorie muttered. “Here. Sit on the sofa. I’m going to fetch Captain Quarles.”

  “Telephone Jason!” Loretta hollered after her.

  “Aye, I will.”

  Fortunately for both of them, Marjorie nearly ran over Mrs. Brandeis, the Quarleses’ housekeeper, as she dashed out the door. Grabbing the woman’s arm, Marjorie cried, “Get the Captain, Mrs. Brandeis. The bairns are on their way!”

  Mrs. Brandeis clapped her hands to her cheeks and uttered a shocked cry before tearing off in the opposite direction. Marjorie called after her, “And telephone Dr. Abernathy!”

  “Yes, yes!” Mrs. Brandeis sang back. “I will!”

  “Marjorie!” Loretta screeched from her sitting room. “Come back here for a minute!”

  Her heart battering against her ribs like hailstones against a tin roof, Marjorie ran back to Loretta. “What? What’s the matter?”

  Rain pelted down outside the window, sounding like the drum of a military band. Marjorie wondered if the thunderstorm had brought on Loretta’s labor. She’d heard that the weather played a role in these things, although she didn’t know if such stories were old wives’ tales or based on scientific fact.

  “I’m having a baby is what’s the matter,” Loretta said, sounding grouchy.

  “You’re having twins,” Marjorie corrected her, although she wasn’t sure why she knew.

  “It doesn’t matter. But I want to go up to my bedroom before it’s too late. You can telephone to Jason after I’m settled there. I don’t want to be stuck here for the duration.”

  “Aye. That’s a good idea. Mrs. Brandeis is calling the doctor.” Taking her tenderly by the arm, Marjorie helped Loretta struggle out of her chair.

  Like a breeching whale, Loretta lumbered to her feet. Marjorie was frightened when she saw her eyes pop wide open, as if in shock. “What? Och, Loretta, what is it?”

  But Loretta didn’t look at Marjorie. She took a step sideways and peered down at the sitting-room carpet. A small puddle of water lay there. “I guess it’s time, all right,” Loretta said. “My water just broke.”

  Because of her service with White Star, Marjorie knew what that meant. She’d never been present at a birthing before, but she’d heard all about the couple of incidents that had taken place aboard ship. “Merciful heaven,” she whispered. “Here, Loretta, can ye walk?”

  “Of course, I can walk. I’m not dying. I’m only having a baby.”

  “Or two.”

  “Or two. It better not be more than that, or I’ll never forgive Malachai.”

  Because she loved Loretta, and also because she valued her job, Marjorie didn’t bother to point out that it took two to make babies. Anyway, trying to get Loretta to see reason wasn’t worth the effort. In her more sardonic moments, Marjorie thought it must be nice to have so much money that you didn’t have to care what others thought of you.

  She wasn’t sardonic now. She was frightened to death. Loretta was a very small woman. As she guided Loretta out of the room, Marjorie glanced back at the clock. Twelve forty-five. She knew somebody had to keep track of the contractions and how far apart they were, and she also knew that Loretta wasn’t the one to do it.

  The boom-boom of heavy footfalls smote their ears, and Marjorie breathed more easily. It was the captain. A body could hear him coming from miles away. The pitter-pat of his minion, Derrick Peavey rat-tatted an accompanying counterpoint. As far as Marjorie was concerned, Mr. Peavey was pretty much useless as a house servant, but Captain Quarles valued his long-term service aboard the captain’s ships, and he’d given Peavey a job when he and Loretta married. She admired the captain for his loyalty, and couldn’t help but wish that Mr. Peavey were a more . . . sane was perhaps too strong a word for it . . . a more perspicacious individual.

  “What’s going on?”

  Malachai’s roar almost deafened her.

  Mr. Peavey, close on his heels muttered something about the Moors being at fault.

  “Don’t shout, Malachai,” Loretta said querulously. It was an unusual tone of voice for her.

  Malachai took her by the arms, ignoring Marjorie completely. His face couldn’t go white because it was too deeply tanned, but the lines of fear and strain could be read by anyone who looked. Marjorie stepped aside, thinking how nice it would be if someone cared for her as much as the captain cared for Loretta. Then she remembered that someone had cared for her that much. Once. Her heart crunched painfully.

  “Good God, Loretta, is it coming?”

  Marjorie couldn’t understand why everyone kept insisting on one baby, when she knew there were two in there. Loretta wouldn’t be so enormous if there was only one. Besides, Marjorie just knew. In her heart.

  Loretta said, “Yes. What do you think all this fuss is about?”

  Without bothering to answer his wife or take exception to her tone of voice, the captain swept her up in his arms and started for the stairs. He called back over his shoulder, “Telephone Dr. Abernathy!”

  “I did, Captain,” Mrs. Brandeis said. Marjorie hadn’t seen her because the captain was so bulky, but she spotted her now, backed against a wall and wringing her hands. Derrick Peavey had folded himself up in a chair and looked as if he were trying to disappear.

  “D’ye need me, Loretta?” Marjorie asked.

  From her husband’s arms, Loretta glanced back at her. “Not right now. Why don’t you make some tea or something to keep Malachai occupied. He’s going to be acting like a big baby until this is over.”

  Malachai growled, but Marjorie finally smiled. If Loretta’s instinct for management had returned, she’d probably be all right. She turned to Mrs. Brandeis. “Shall we make sandwiches and tea, Mrs. B?”

  Worriedly staring at the captain’s retreating back and Loretta’s dangling feet, Mrs. Brandeis said, “I suppose so. I wonder if the doctor will need help, though.”

  “He can tell us when he gets here,” Marjorie said, taking the other woman by the arm and gently turning her around toward the kitchen. “He’ll probably need sustenance, too, depending on how long this takes.”
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  “I wish she was going to the hospital,” muttered Mrs. Brandeis.

  “So do I. But children have been born at home for centuries,” Marjorie pointed out.

  “Yes, I know that, and I also know that women have died in childbirth for centuries.”

  Marjorie had never known Mrs. Brandeis to be tart before. She didn’t blame her in this case. Loretta was huge, she was having twins, and Marjorie, too, would have been more comfortable if she’d agreed to have them in a hospital, where emergencies could be dealt with more efficiently than from home. “Ah, well, you know Loretta.”

  “Yes. I do know Mrs. Quarles,” Mrs. Brandeis said darkly. “Stubborn woman.”

  Marjorie couldn’t argue with that.

  Leaving Mrs. Brandeis and the two housemaids, Molly and Li, preparing food in the kitchen, Marjorie, nervous and worried, went to the front hall to await Jason’s arrival. Mr. Peavey hadn’t moved from his chair, but he had commenced biting his nails and muttering about the Moors.

  Anxiety ate at Marjorie’s innards, although she wasn’t absolutely sure it all had to do with Loretta. In truth, she was jittery about seeing Jason again. They’d actually shared a confidence or two the night before, and Marjorie, who had locked everything inside herself for so long, felt strange about that.

  His automobile pulled up in front of Loretta’s porch a few minutes later, and Marjorie, who had been watching through the window in the door, had opened the massive thing before she realized she might thus appear eager to see him. How embarrassing.

  On the other hand, Loretta was having twins. That being the case, Marjorie excused her eagerness, and rushed out onto the porch. “Hurry, Jason! Loretta’s having the babies.”

  He looked tired and drawn, but he produced a smile for her. “So I hear. How’s she doing?”

  Feeling a little silly—after all, nothing had gone wrong yet—Marjorie said, “All right, I think. But . . . well, she’s so big and all . . .”

  Rather than bounding up the porch stairs as was his wont, Jason trudged up them today. “I know. It’s a little worrying, especially if she’s carrying twins.”