Even though I sounded confident, an ominous feeling about the future unexpectedly captured my heart. What would war do to us as a country? Would we survive and our husbands come home? Determined not to ponder on the terror of it all, I suggested otherwise.
“We will weather the storm; of this, I’m sure,” I uttered with feigned confidence. “Now, let’s go back to your residence, gather some of your belongings. You are coming with me.”
Olivia did not object to my edict. I could tell by the beaming grin of thankfulness on her face she had found an ounce of relief from today’s sorrows. We would need each other during the months ahead.
Chapter Three
Digging Trenches
The dowager of Stratton Park, Lady Florence Russell, had overshadowed my role as Benedict’s wife since the day I wed her beloved son. My husband had been exceedingly close with his mother even after we wed, which I blamed as a contributing influence upon our lack of intimacy.
Florence had given birth to one stillborn son and suffered numerous miscarriages until Benedict came into this world. Her possessiveness was understandable, but her ability to give Benedict leeway to be his own man suffered. As a result, she ignored my opinions and suggestions, hindering my capacity to grow into the overseer of the household as I should have been. Florence refused to transfer those responsibilities in totality to me as a means of keeping control. Perhaps I could not blame her, for Stratton Park had long been her home before I entered its doors.
Benedict’s father, a baron, had died nearly fifteen years prior. I believed the responsibilities that transferred to my husband upon his death had kept him from finding a wife long before we met. It was not until I married him I realized the stronghold that Florence retained upon the family estate and her son. Bringing home Olivia would be my first independent decision that I would assert upon Florence in Benedict’s absence, and I knew beforehand it would not be an easy task.
After tea, I had my driver take us to Olivia’s home. The neighborhood of row houses was commonplace, but personally, I would have found living in such cramped neighborhoods stifling. Our country estate outside of Birmingham, with its green landscape, trees, and abundant wildlife looked exceedingly pleasant compared to the overcrowded and dirty city that Olivia had chosen.
We entered into her residence, and though it looked spotless, the sparse furnishings saddened me. Olivia had gone from a life of riches to one of modest means for the sake of love. It was apparent Thomas possessed a quality that had given Olivia happiness regardless of his financial status.
“Do you have a housemaid?” I asked, impressed by the cleanliness.
Olivia scrunched her shoulders. “We cannot afford one.”
Flabbergasted, I looked at her in awe. “Olivia, you mean to tell me that you cook and clean all on your own?” She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin with an air of pride.
“I do, and I’m quite good at it. Are you surprised?”
Surprised indeed, I thought to myself. “It’s admirable, to say the least, after growing up in your parents’ estate with servants at your every whim.” Olivia had gloves on her hands, and I wondered about the state of skin from such laborious tasks. “Do you have a suitcase?” I asked.
“Yes, I do. It’s upstairs in our bedroom under the bed.”
“Any spare sheets?”
“A few,” she answered.
“Get those for me, and I’ll cover the furniture and take care of closing up the household while you pack.”
Olivia glanced warily at me as if she entertained second thoughts over our arrangement and hesitated. “I don’t feel right leaving everything behind,” she morosely remarked.
“Well, if you don’t stay with me long-term, I still think you should not be left alone today,” I assured her. “Even I need the comfort of a friend nearby after saying goodbye to Benedict.” I hoped giving Olivia a reason to help me would convince her to leave and allow my ploy to succeed. She stood silently pondering for a few moments and then spoke.
“All right then but just for a few days,” she countered. “There’s no need to cover everything as if I’ll be gone for months on end—at least not yet.”
She departed for her upstairs bedroom to pack while I remained behind to look around. The least I could do was check the locks on the windows and draw the curtains. While doing so, I noted their tattered settee and fading wallpaper that had curled at the corners. The wooden floor, covered with a large area rug, squeaked as I walked across it, and I wondered what else needed repair in the building. Olivia returned downstairs with a suitcase in hand.
“I think I’m ready now.” She glanced forlornly at the room. “Perhaps you are right. If I stay here tonight, I shall end up crying myself to sleep.”
“Then we shall comfort each other,” I said, opening the door. Olivia locked it securely, and we returned to my waiting car for the drive to the manor house. My stomach knotted as I attempted to organize my thoughts on how I would approach Florence.
“Are you sure I won’t be any trouble?” Olivia’s voice quavered, seeking reassurance.
“Not at all.” I hesitated for a moment and continued. “Say nothing to Lady Russell. Let me handle it when we arrive.”
“All right, if you insist.”
I glanced out the window, watching the landscape pass by the motorcar, wondering how long it would be before Benedict arrived in France to face the inevitable. In my mind, I could not comprehend what he would endure during battle. There had never been a war of this magnitude in my lifetime. Nevertheless, I wasn’t so foolish as to think it an exciting endeavor to stop the Germans. Thomas and Benedict could very well die in the conflict.
The car pulled up the long road that led to the estate, and another skirmish of sorts awaited me. When we entered the foyer, Carter, our butler, greeted us.
“Do me a favor,” I instructed, “and take my friend Olivia to the large guest room and help her get settled in. She will be staying with us for a few days if not longer.”
Carter glanced suspiciously at Olivia and then back at me as if he were looking for an explanation to my odd request. Irritated at his hesitancy, I acted uncharacteristically by narrowing my eyes and repeating myself.
“The guest room, Carter, if you please.” He appeared vexed and unlike his usual jovial self, which I attributed to the stress of Benedict’s departure. A few young lads on our staff had also volunteered to fight, which would make the household short-staffed. I softened my glare, realizing he too experienced anxiety because of the changes.
“Yes, my lady,” he respectfully responded. He took Olivia’s suitcase and led the way up the stairs.
“Get settled, Olivia. I’ll be up shortly,” I instructed.
After unpinning my hat and leaving it on a side table in the foyer, along with my purse, I walked to the sitting room where I expected to find my mother-in-law. Not deviating from her usual morning routine, she sat by the window doing needlepoint. To my surprise, as she glanced up at me, the rims of Florence’s eyes were red as if she had been crying. I had not expected such a reaction to Benedict’s departure. Nevertheless, I had enough sense not to mention my observation that would only cause her further embarrassment.
“So how was it?” she asked.
“Emotionally draining,” I responded, sitting in an armchair next to her. “The station was filled with families saying goodbye to soldiers.” Realizing my comment opened a pathway to my announcement, I continued. “I chanced upon Olivia, my friend, and found her to be extremely distraught over the departure of her husband, Thomas.” Florence knew little of my friendship with Olivia but acknowledged the acquaintance.
“Yes, Benedict mentioned your association with the young lady,” Florence said. “Didn’t she come from a respectable family but chose an undesirable match?”
When I gathered that Benedict had expressed such an opinion to his mother, I found it disturbing they had spoken on the subject.
“Despite her choice, she
is happy,” I countered.
Florence pulled her gaze away and returned to her needlepoint. “Well, if he’s a private, he is much more likely to be killed.”
My eyes closed at the tactless remark, thankful Olivia had not heard Florence’s statement. Certainly, the possibility existed. Benedict, on the other hand, as gentry and from a military family, left as a commissioned major. Regardless of rank, it did not mean dangers did not exist at the front.
“Florence, I need you to keep your opinions to yourself in the next few weeks,” I answered tersely. She swiftly lifted her head in my direction, no doubt surprised at the first brash comment I had ever dared to speak.
“Whatever do you mean?” Her nostrils flared.
“I have invited Olivia to stay at the estate for a few weeks if not longer. She needs to be in the presence of a good friend after finding herself without a husband for support.” Trying to assert my position, I straightened my spine and pulled back my shoulders.
“Whatever for?” Florence balked, setting down her needlepoint. “Surely any support she requires should be offered by her family, not ours.”
Conflict of any sort had never been my strong suit, but if I didn’t continue to make known my position, Florence would soon overrule my decision.
“Her family is unable to provide provision,” I stated plainly.
“You mean unwilling,” Florence quipped, pulling her mouth to the side as if she already knew the reason.
Frustrated at her attitude, I persevered for Olivia’s cause. “Can you not find an ounce of empathy in your heart to assist another wife who has sent her husband off to war?” Inhaling a deep breath, I pleaded to her sensibilities. “After all, we need to provide for one another and not isolate ourselves during this difficult time.” Apparently, my call for decency had hit a tender spot, and I saw her hardened countenance soften.
“Quite right,” she admitted with a breathy sigh. “My son did ask me before leaving to use our home as we see fit to aid in the cause.”
“And Olivia is my concern at the moment, so you can see I’m sure Benedict would have no objection to opening our home for her welfare.”
Rising to my feet, I smiled warmly at Florence, thankful we did not continue to argue over the matter. “I have asked Carter to take her to the large guest room in the east wing.”
“You mean she’s here already?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on her to make sure Olivia is comfortable.”
Without a further word, I left the sitting room and climbed the stairs. After bravely asserting my position, my lungs expelled a few puffs of air to release the tension. When I reached the guest room where Olivia waited for my return, I smiled while I stood at the threshold, watching her look out the window. She appeared content and lost in the scenery.
“I see you are enjoying the view.” Olivia swung around, her face beaming with joy.
“Truly, I have forgotten how lovely and serene the countryside can be to one’s soul.”
“It’s the best medicine for you right now,” I said, walking in and standing by her. “Why don’t I get Percy, and we can take a walk in the sunshine through the gardens. Would you like that?”
“Oh yes,” Olivia enthusiastically responded.
“Good. Come with me to the nursery, and we’ll let the nanny know she can have a few minutes to herself.”
After preparing the pram and settling Percy comfortably inside, Olivia and I made our way outdoors. I bypassed Florence, not feeling ready to make introductions. Afternoon tea seemed a more relaxed and appropriate time.
We had settled into a leisurely stroll albeit a quiet one. Naturally, our minds focused on our husbands, and Olivia broached the subject first.
“Thomas told me he would be in training for a few weeks. Afterward, I’m not sure where they will send him. He said it could be anywhere.” Her voice quavered. “What about Benedict?”
“He spoke of the front in France, although I do not believe he has received his official orders.” I assumed as much because he couldn’t give me a clear indication as to when he would depart. No doubt he decided the less I knew, the less I would worry, but that was not the case.
“How will they tell us?” Olivia asked, grabbing my forearm.
“You mean should something happen to them?” I carefully chose my words, not mentioning death. By the look on poor Olivia’s face, I knew what she wanted to know. Olivia shook her head while biting her lower lip. “Benedict told me by telegram or letter,” I answered in a somber tone. “Please let us not consider such an outcome when today they are both alive and well.”
Percy started to cry, the timing of which I found distressing. We halted, and I leaned over the carriage to see why he fussed. When he saw my face, he stopped, and I smiled at him in return.
“Mommy is here, little one,” I cooed. He wrapped his tiny hand around my index finger and clung to it tightly. “He probably misses his daddy.”
“Is Benedict a doting father?” Olivia stood by me, smiling at Percy.
“Yes, very much so.” A shade of jealousy pricked again because he did pay excessive attention to our son instead of me. Unable to hide my disappointment, I answered Olivia. “To my detriment.”
“What do you mean?” She tilted her head, showing her confusion.
The door opened again, giving me an opportunity to speak my heart, but I questioned the wisdom. Olivia was my only close friend. With no one else to confide in, I relented but not without embarrassment.
“I’m saying Percy receives far more attention than I do.” My eyes stayed on my son’s face, avoiding contact with Olivia. The vague statement still did not reveal the totality of my disenchantment.
“Grace, I sense you wish to speak candidly with me but are holding back for modesty’s sake. We are friends, are we not? Please, tell me what distresses you.” Her hand reached over and grabbed mine, holding it tightly.
“Forgive me for my bluntness.” I opened my mouth to speak further of my thoughts but hesitated. A blush warmed my cheeks. “Might I ask if you enjoy...” I could barely say the thought aloud without gulping to expel my mind. “...if you enjoy intimacy with your husband?” A small grin curled the corner of Olivia’s lips.
“You mean sexual intimacy?”
My heart thumped in my chest when I heard the term a lady never spoke. I replied but altered her narrative to a more acceptable reference. “Well, you know, lovemaking.”
Without reluctance, she continued. “Yes, Thomas and I enjoy each other’s bodies very much.” She giggled. “He is an ardent lover.”
Ardent? I pondered the meaning of her choice of words while I pushed the carriage down the pathway. What did he do that gave her so much pleasure? Glancing at Percy, I could only conclude I had already performed my wifely duty with some expertise, having birthed a child. On the other hand, I had to admit we shared no joyous occasion underneath the bedcovers, as Benedict remained reserved and swift in his activities.
“We should not speak of personal subjects,” I blurted while accelerating my step. Olivia attempted to keep up with me.
“Does he not satisfy you?”
“What?” I halted and looked at her cockeyed. “What do you mean? The act is apparently satisfying enough for men but rarely for women.” I huffed in frustration.
“Oh, dear Grace,” she sympathetically replied. “You have no idea what I mean, do you?”
I caught sight of a bird flying overhead, giving me the opportunity to look elsewhere and hide my humiliation. The topic had caused me distress. “Apparently not,” I heard myself admit aloud. My friend was right—I had no idea what she meant.
“Benedict is much older than you,” Olivia mused aloud. “Perhaps men his age are not as interested in fleshly matters.”
She did have a point. Distressingly enough, I had discovered Benedict’s attentiveness for intimacy had waned quite a bit a few months before the war. Naturally, I never initiated anything on my
own but waited for him to advance his affections. I had to remind myself I had married a man more than twenty years my senior.
“You may be right,” I conceded. Percy unknowingly decided to rescue me from the uncomfortable topic by loudly wailing. No doubt his nappy needed changing, or he needed feeding. “It appears my son has had enough of our afternoon stroll,” I announced in relief. Slowly I turned the pram around and walked toward the residence.
“I assume this is the end of our discussion,” Olivia stated, smirking at me like a tease.
“Well, we’ve come to a conclusion regarding the state of affairs, so I don’t believe we need to speak of it any further. If that is the problem, then nothing can be done about it.”
A shameful part of me wanted to cure my ignorance, especially my lack of satisfaction, whatever that meant. It seemed logical for me to leave the subject dormant. How could I miss something I had no idea existed? Doing my duty as a loving wife to Benedict had been all I needed to know, or so I kept telling myself. With those thoughts in mind, we returned to the house for tea and respectable conversation in Florence’s presence.
Chapter Four
The World at War
Weeks had passed since Olivia and I sent our husbands off to war. She had settled in nicely and seemed comfortable in our household. Florence continued to be cordial while Olivia was present. For the moment, we remained untouched from the conflict in Europe.
Within a month, Olivia felt anxious to return to the home she shared with Thomas, and I understood her longing to be in the midst of familiarity. She started to receive her spousal separation allowance, which would help with expenses. The city officials had set up a National War Relief Fund organized by the Prince of Wales, disbursing monies to needy families while the men were at the front. Insistent she could manage on her own, I agreed to Olivia’s departure with the caveat if she needed support, she would come to me. Still concerned about her safety, I often had our driver take me for weekly visits to check on her welfare.
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