Vintage Love

by Clarissa Ross

  “Will you join us?”

  “I will help,” she said. “But I do not wish my name to be used.”

  His face shadowed. “Why not?”

  She reconsidered, “Then use it with discretion.”

  “Depend on that,” he said, brightening. And he saw her to the door before he drove away.

  It was the first of many times they would be together. Soon she was Joy to him, and he became Ernest. She donated a large amount to his fund and offered to work among the ill. But he would not allow this. He frequently came to Berkeley Square for quiet dinners with her. And in turn, he took her to several famous restaurants, escorted her to concerts, and to a play which Charles Dickens had insisted they should see.

  One night, as they were driven through the dark London streets after dining at the Strand, he said, “Is it not apparent to you that we are well met?”

  She studied his handsome face in the semidarkness of the carriage’s interior. “We do agree on many things.”

  “I wish you would marry me,” he said very solemnly.

  She was startled by his abruptness. “Ernest!”

  “I didn’t mean to be so blunt,” he said. “But I have given this much thought. A wife such as you would give me added inspiration in my work for the needy.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I must think about this.”

  He squeezed her hand and leaned close and kissed her. “I beg you think only of acceptance.”

  When she reached her bedroom, she found herself in a state of confusion. To become the wife of a member of Parliament devoted to helping the poor seemed an ideal role for her. But she did not like the way in which his charity was conducted. And perhaps the most powerful force of all that kept her from thinking of a marriage to Ernest, was her memory of the self-sacrificing John Hastings!

  As a first step, she tried the handsome politician out on her family. Their reactions were varied and startling. Lady Susan was at once taken with Ernest. Of course he had been careful to flatter her whenever they met.

  Her mother’s opinion was, “You’ll soon be twenty-seven! You’ve nothing but scandal behind you. Here is your chance to set your life in order with a fine man. You mustn’t let it slip!”

  Hilda admitted Ernest was attractive but was a good deal less for the match. Her sister-in-law said, “He has immense sexual appeal! It’s a wonder he hasn’t tried to bed you down!”

  Joy smiled. “I think him capable of it. But he is most wary with me. He plays the perfect gentleman so well I think it is truly play-acting.”

  James scowled when she questioned him about Ernest. He told her, “I have heard that his charity group has done much good. But there is something about him makes me uncomfortable. He seems too good to be genuine.”

  Meanwhile Ernest continued to plead with her to marry him. She found him good company, and also was impressed that he and Charles Dickens were friends. She did not think Dickens was likely to be easily deceived. That was in Ernest’s favor.

  She took long walks by herself. One afternoon she came to a park and found a travelling carnival there. She smiled as she thought of the fairs she’d attended in the country. And she wandered among the fair tents, noting the various attractions. She halted before a tent with a canvas depicting a large, fat woman. The elderly, harsh-voiced barker cried out, “I guarantee Littly Emmy weighs not an ounce less than three hundred and seventy-five pounds! She’s the wonder of the world! And it only costs a penny to see her, ladies and gentlemen! Just one penny!” Trade was brisk as he collected pennies from children and adults.

  Joy moved on to the Punch and Judy show. This was a shabby Punch and Judy compared to the ones she remembered. Next she stopped by a game of darts. A man walked by with an advertising sign hanging from his neck. The board advertised, “Good food at the Eagle Tavern.” She was reading the sign when her pocketbook was suddenly snatched from her hand.

  A woman called out. “A lad took it! I saw him, Miss!”

  Then a man cried, “Someone’s after him!”

  Joy stood bewildered by the swift happenings. After a moment a tall man came to her from the confused crowd, and handed back the pocketbook. He wore the red tunic and blue pants of a soldier.

  “There you are, Miss,” he said. “The lad got away but the main thing is you got this back!”

  “Thank you,” she said, embarrassed as the crowd stood watching them.

  He moved her away from them a little so they were alone. He smiled, and she saw he had a long sabre scar on his left cheek. He said, “London can be dangerous! I’d just as soon take my chances with the thugs in India as with some of the crooks in London.”

  She said, “You have served in India?”

  “Yes. And I’m about to be shipped out again. Keeps you busy when you take the Queen’s shilling!” He was staring at her oddly now, and apologized, “Sorry, but you look mightily like someone I once knew. Long ago. Daughter of Sir Richard Canby. Would be Lady Canby, by now!”

  She looked up at him in amazement. “But I am Lady Joy! Who may I ask, are you?”

  “Name is Rod Smith,” the soldier said, his cap removed now. “You wouldn’t recall me. I was a stable boy in Surrey.”

  She gave him a long study. “Yes. I do remember you. You haven’t changed all that much!”

  “Nor have you, if I may say so, my lady,” he said shyly.

  They talked about Surrey and the things they both recalled about those good days. She found it a warm experience. Finally she said, “I have enjoyed meeting you again, Rod.”

  The young man looked at her sadly. “It seems we’ve grown more apart then ever. Now you’re a great lady and I’m only a poor soldier.”

  “Don’t think about it that way,” she said. “Let us be glad we’ve met and that we are still friends!”

  He looked happier. And putting on his cap, he said, “Will you do me a great honor?”

  “What?”

  “We may never meet again,” he said. “There’s a pond close by. They rent boats. Let me take you out for a while. We can go on talking about the old days. It would mean a lot to me. And afterward there’s a nice pub I know where some of my pals take their wives and lady friends to have a spot of food.”

  She could have dismissed him easily. Given him a dozen reasons why it was not wise. Yet it seemed an innocent pleasure that they should try to recapture memories of their youth. She knew many would not approve, but she was a free person.

  “All right,” she said with a smile. “Let us find the pond and the rowboats.”

  They left the noisy confusion of the fair, and went to a quiet area of the park. He rented a boat and rowed her out on the pond. Then he let the small craft drift as he sat with his arm around her, and they talked. There was no stiffness between them. All status had vanished. Later he took her to the pub. It was clean and comfortable, and she enjoyed the food. Then he insisted on renting a carriage and seeing her home. She said goodbye to him on the steps of her home in Berkeley Square.

  “Goodbye, Lady Joy,” he said soberly.

  “Goodbye, Rod,” she spoke in a soft voice. “Take care of yourself!” And she quickly kissed him and went inside.

  She made her way upstairs and without her mother or anyone else seeing her. She was in a strange mood. It had been an exciting experience and one with a touch of sadness. Some would say she had been reckless with her reputation, and lowered herself by spending the day in the company of the man whom she’d known as a boy. But she felt she had done right, and she would always think of Rod with a deal of warmth and affection.

  Next afternoon she received an invitation from Ernest Layton to have dinner with him at a famous restaurant. For a man of limited income he appeared to have extravagant tastes. But because she had a tiny feeling of guilt about her escapade with Rod, she sent a reply to Ernest accepting his invitation.

  Arriving at the elegant restaurant, she was startled to find that he had reserved a private, upstairs dining room for them with ever
y elegance including red roses on the table. He looked especially handsome in his evening dress, and she had worn an attractive, white satin gown with lace trim. He poured champagne for them.

  He said, “I’m celebrating. Today I managed to put through an important bill for the poor. It will make it more difficult to put the unfortunate in debtor’s prison.”

  She lifted her glass. “I’m happy to drink to that!”

  He gazed at her earnestly. “I hired this private room tonight in the hope that it might be the setting for your answer.”

  “Must we talk about that tonight?”

  He sat back. “You are a strange young woman, Joy.”

  She was suddenly uneasy. “Why do you say that?”

  “Let’s not play games. You have been mixed up in a scandal. One couldn’t live in London and not know that.”

  Her cheeks crimsoned. “You have never mentioned this before!”

  “I did not feel the need,” he said. “Now I’ll speak frankly. You caused a sensation when you left Sir George and fled to Scotland with that young doctor. Then you carefully waited until after Sir George’s death before you came back here.”

  “I returned not knowing George had died!”

  “Yes,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “Because the man you were living with was drowned.”

  She tried to curb her outrage. She said, “Ernest, if you wish us to continue our friendship you will say no more!”

  “I will say no more,” he agreed. “Except that I love you and want to marry you.”

  “A woman tainted by scandal!”

  “You are a reckless woman who needs a husband with a strong hand,” he said, leaning close to her. “I want to be that husband.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Yesterday you were seen in compromising circumstances with a common soldier!”

  “Oh, no!” she protested.

  “I know all about it. Your love scene in the boat on the pond! Your going with him to that pub!”

  “It was all perfectly innocent!”

  “Considering your past, many would find that difficult to believe,” he said grimly. “However, I believe you.”

  She sat there too stunned to speak. So she had been seen! The word would spread! The gossips would have another carnival at her expense! Because of her indiscretion, the family name would suffer. She stared at Ernest Layton’s handsome, serious face. Perhaps he was right, she did need a strong man beside her. John had been strong and it had turned out well. She had compared Ernest to him and had found him wanting. This was not fair. There could never be a second such love in her life.

  In a choked voice, she said, “All right, Ernest. I’ll marry you!”

  He came to her happily and took her in his arms. “Dear Joy,” he said. “You’ll never regret this decision.” And he brought her close to him, and kissed her with great ardor.

  So the wedding was agreed upon. Ernest kept his word, and made no mention of her escapade with the soldier again. She respected him for this but she was worried about the way in which his charity group was operating. The more she learned about it the less she liked it.

  She told him, “I think your books are not well kept.”

  He said, “You are probably right. After we’re married I’ll turn the whole business over to you.”

  This gave her new faith in him and his work. She began formulating new ideas for the group, among them a nursing service to be directed by herself. The wedding took place in January just after her twenty-eighth birthday. More than a year had passed since Sir George’s death but she still insisted on a private ceremony.

  Their honeymoon began with a crossing from Dover to Calais, which was tremendously rough. But as soon as they reached Paris, the weather cleared and they had an exciting, happy honeymoon. Ernest proved a skilled and satisfactory lover. As Hilda and some others had guessed, he had a strong sexuality. And in other matters he seemed kind and thoughtful. The honeymoon seemed all too short to her.

  Once back in London, she had expected to begin an investigation of the working methods of her husband’s charity organization, but a calamitous event prevented her.

  The second morning after their return from Paris Ernest Layton came to her with the morning paper in his hands. He said, “Something dreadful has happened!”

  She saw that he was badly upset. “What?”

  He showed her the headline, “Prominent West End Man Kills Self.” It went on to tell how Nancy’s husband shot himself after being accused of cheating at a well-known gaming house.

  “How awful!” she gasped as she read the piece.

  “You must go to her,” Ernest said.

  “I will,” she said. “Just as soon as I can dress and take a carriage over there.”

  She found Nancy pale, and in a state of shock. She was standing by the fireplace in her living room when Joy went to her. Her friend gave her a dull look and said, “I have just come from talking with the children.”

  Joy kissed her. “You poor dear!”

  “I don’t want sympathy,” Nancy said tautly. “Please go away.”

  Grief took many forms, and Joy realized her friend was not her normal self. She said, “I only wish to help!”

  “I do not need help. I did not love my husband. I lost him long before he put that bullet in his head last night,” Nancy said bitterly.

  “Of course,” she said placatingly.

  Nancy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she angrily glared at her. “I was managing well enough until you came back to London!”

  She stared at her friend in astonishment. “I don’t understand!”

  “There are many things you don’t understand!” her friend lashed out at her.

  She was shocked. “Nancy, I came here as your friend!”

  “I don’t want your friendship! Let me tell you something! Ernest Layton was in love with me until you came and stole him from me!”

  She stared at the upset, lovely Nancy. “You’re hysterical! You don’t know what you’re saying!”

  “I do!” Nancy cried. “Ernest slept with me! Do you understand that? He was my lover! You think you are special in his life! Well, you are wrong! He has had dozens of women!”

  “You’re libelling my husband,” she said in a low, shattered tone. “I can only forgive you because of your great pain!”

  “You think he will change?” Nancy went on with sarcasm. “Well, listen to this! He was here in bed with me the night before he took you on your honeymoon!”

  “No!” she said, the room reeling around her.

  “You’re just one of his many women!” Nancy ranted on. “But the only one foolish enough to marry him!”

  She stood there in torment. Then she managed to weakly say, “Thank you, Nancy! I’m sorry.” She turned and swiftly left the house.

  Her journey back to the house in Berkeley Square was a nightmare. Nancy had been in an agonized state, but she had managed to create more chaos in Joy. Her whole world was undermined. And worst of all she knew that Ernest, waiting for her, would have some slick explanation for what Nancy had so cruelly told her. It made it more difficult that she would have to confront him in her own home, where he had been quite willing they should live for a while.

  He was waiting for her when she entered the reception hall of Berkeley Square. He came to her at once, placed a consoling arm around her, and kissed her.

  “A dreadful business,” he said.

  She felt a great desire to escape him. “Yes,” she said with a hint of irony.

  “You saw Nancy?”

  “I did.”

  His handsome face was concerned. “How is she accepting it?”

  “Badly.”

  “I can’t see why it should break her up. They were parted. He had not been a husband to her for some time.”

  Joy looked at him coldly. “He is the father of her two children.”

  He looked at her anxiously. “Was Nancy unkind to you?”

  “She is c
onfused and unhappy. I doubt that she knew what she was saying!”

  “Unpleasant for you.”

  “Yes, very.”

  “Too bad,” he said. “I’ll see her. We mustn’t have you two at odds as you’re both in the group. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Will you?”

  “I believe I can make her see reason,” he said.

  With some irony, she replied, “No doubt.” Then she drew away from him. “I’m going upstairs to rest for a little. I feel unwell.”

  “Take a good rest,” he told her with proper husbandly concern.

  Joy kept the grimy secret revealed by Nancy to herself. She began a period of playacting towards her new husband, and at the same time sharply observing him. To complicate matters, her mother’s health suddenly took a turn for the worse. She felt it wise to hire a full-time companion and nurse for her. Luckily she was able to find a suitable person in a Mrs. Eleanor Warren, a widow who had fallen on evil times.

  Her mother had known the woman years ago, for they had both moved in the same social circles. It was not like bringing a stranger into the house. It was also fortunate that Mrs. Warren was a pleasant woman with a good disposition who could placate the difficult Lady Susan.

  As soon as Joy had settled this she began to consider Ernest, and her future with him. She began by going to the treasurer of the charity group, and requesting to see the books. Joy gave the nervous, old man in charge the impression she was acting on Ernest’s request which was not at all true.

  It took her only a short time to learn that the accounts were in a worse state than even she had suspected. There were glaring inaccuracies everywhere, and many mysterious withdrawals. The accounts were spread over three different banks to make an examination of them more complicated. But she persevered.

  One of the accounts was solely in her husband’s name and she had the grim satisfaction of knowing she could expose him as a swindler. She decided to confront him at the earliest moment with her findings.

  One night after she returned from saying goodnight to her mother and Mrs. Warren, she returned to the library where she’d so often sat and talked with her father in the old days. It annoyed her to find Ernest seated in her father’s chair and using his desk.