Willow Grove Abbey: A Historical World War II Romance Novel (The Somerville Trilogy)

by Payne, Mary Christian

  “Good God! Sophia! What in damnation, are you doing here? How did you get in?” Owen’s voice had a frightened tone, as well as defensive. Still, he was clearly more embarrassed and wary than he was angry. He was trying to affect quite a manner of outrage, but the tremor in his tone gave away his fright.

  “It might be more appropriate for me to ask what in damnation you are doing here, my dear husband,” I replied. “As to how I got in...I am your wife, in case that has slipped your mind. I have a key. I didn’t think you would mind putting me up for the night. It’s obvious that I should have rung you.”

  “I... I... didn’t know you were planning a trip to London,” Owen stammered. He pulled himself to an upright position, folding his hands in front of his private parts. But he was still unclothed. It had to be difficult for him to maintain composure, let alone attempt a show of outrage.

  “Yes, I’m aware of that. It was rather spur-of-the moment.” I didn’t raise my voice or create a commotion. In fact, I was quite proud later that I behaved like a lady throughout the entire ghastly scene. Perhaps that was because I felt so emotionally detached. There was nothing for Owen to say. The only thing he could not be certain about was how much I had overheard.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked guardedly.

  “Of course I’m extremely upset, Owen. I would suggest that we begin this conversation by ridding ourselves of the presence of this gentleman,” I said, waving a hand in the direction of his companion. The young man sat trembling from fear, trying in vain to cover himself. The poor soul looked very eager to be as far away from Sumner Street, and even from Owen, as possible. Owen looked at him in an obvious attempt to express some sense of reassurance. He whispered that he would be in touch the next morning. The young man, whose name I never did learn, scurried away like a frightened rabbit. Zipping his trousers, and tucking in his shirttail, he disappeared into the lift. Later, when I related the ghastly scene to Edwina, ever after she referred to Owen’s lover as ‘Bulge’. It was so like Edwina to see humor, even in such dreadful circumstances.

  Owen and I were alone in the parlor. While I was deeply shocked, I also felt pity. He had quickly slipped into his trousers and shirt, and was attempting to regain a modicum of composure. “You asked what I intend to do,” I began. “Now I think we should discuss what both of us intend. It is clear that you don’t love me...That you are in love with another person. Under such circumstances, I cannot imagine that you would have any difficulty agreeing to an annulment. I believe it would be wise for me to pack my belongings and return to Willow Grove at once. I hope and pray that this shock doesn’t affect my pregnancy. This baby means everything to me. Obviously, there can be no legal action until after the child is born. But, as soon as practical after the birth, I believe annulment proceedings should begin. You clearly married me under entirely false pretenses. I believe any Court of Law will see that this should end as swiftly as possible.” Owen just sat on the sofa, listening carefully to my words. “I cannot imagine that you will have any difficulty admitting that you are the guilty party. I don’t want to be divorced, and I don’t imagine that you do. There is the possibility that one or both of us may want to marry again someday, and a divorce could be an impediment. I am concerned that both of our reputations be kept intact.”

  In truth, I was ashamed of my much-maligned tone of voice, but the situation called for outrage on my part. Once again, I was putting my acting abilities to work. I felt guilty making pretense of being such a wounded and wronged spouse. There was a good deal more to the picture than Owen realized, and I felt overwhelmed at the chaotic morass of lies that had led us to such a place and time.

  “What of my family?” Owen asked.

  “I have no desire to cause your family pain”.

  “Sophia, please. Please do not tell my family. It would kill them. I know you will not believe this, but I do love you. Not as I should, I know. Nevertheless, I do. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “You said some quite nasty things to your friend before I intervened. Why did you marry me? You knew you could never be a proper husband.”

  “I’m dreadfully sorry you overheard what I said. I certainly don’t have any ill feelings toward you. My parents were hounding me to get married. It never ceased. You had always been their choice. I finally acquiesced. I suppose I hoped that marriage would make a difference.” He was openly sobbing by then, and I began to weep as well. “I never wanted to be the way I am,” he cried.

  I sank down on the sofa next to him. “Oh dear God, Owen. I cannot bear this pain for either of us,” I said. “It appears that both of us have endured parental harangue.” I made a hasty decision and continued speaking. “I’m going to tell you the unbridled truth. Perhaps it will lessen the burden upon you.”

  He raised his swollen, reddened eyes to me, with a puzzled expression. “What unbridled truth, Sophia?”

  “Owen, I haven’t been truthful with you, either. First though, you must understand that I fully intended to be a good wife to you. I would have been faithful. I would have spent my life trying to make up for not being truthful. However, I have told lies. Dreadful lies. Owen, the baby I’m carrying is not yours.”

  He looked stunned. Not angry. Just shocked, and I suspect that he was somewhat relieved. “Not mine? Not my baby? Then whose? This is greatly confusing. Who? Who is the father, Sophia?”

  “The father, Owen, is a wonderful man with whom I fell deeply in love last summer. His name isn’t important. I wasn’t able to marry him because my parents didn’t approve. They felt he wasn’t good enough for me. They threatened to ruin him if I went against their wishes. I was desperate when I learned I was pregnant. I wanted to keep the baby. The only way to accomplish that seemed to be to get married, and rather quickly. You were there, and I needed a husband. Moreover, just like your parents, mine had berated me endlessly about marrying you. It appears that neither of us was honest with the other. I can say that I care for you, Owen. I’ve grown very fond of you, but I’m not in love with you. I shall never love anyone again the way I loved... still love... my baby’s father. I’m sorry, Owen. Sorry for the both of us.” I felt tears welling behind my eyes.

  “Oh Sophia, what a muddle we’ve made of our lives.” He brushed tears from his own eyes. “What are we to do? I don’t blame you. I quite understand how being desperate can drive one to do things that are not ethical. Not moral. Sometimes there doesn’t seem to be much choice, does there?” Owen held his head down, and ran his hand through his hair.

  “No, I suppose not,” I replied. “But, as is always the case, one lie leads to another, and another, and another until suddenly one doesn’t know which way to turn. That’s where we find ourselves now.”

  “Are you serious about wanting an annulment? Perhaps we could continue on in this vein, since we both have needs that are met though the marriage?”

  I must admit that I was tempted. It would have solved so many difficulties. But I knew I couldn’t go on living a lie. I was ready to have the truth known, and did not really care anymore what people thought. That included my parents. The only person I did not want to know the entire truth was Spence.

  “No, Owen. That won’t do. It was one thing when we were both playing a role, not knowing the truth that the other was hiding. I don’t intend to be difficult, and shall be glad to tell a Solicitor that I’m equally at fault. I don’t know if specific details will be called for, but I know that anything we say will be treated confidentially. There isn’t any reason for your parents to know the truth. “

  He raised his head, and looked at me with a wretched expression. “We both married as a cover to satisfy our family’s badgering about marriage. In my case, I also needed to stop tongues from wagging as I approached my forties, unmarried. In your case, you had a child to consider. What do you want to do about the baby? Surely you don’t want to admit that the child won’t be a Winnsborough?”

  “I don’t know, Owen. I honestly don’t care for myself
. Truly I don’t. However, my baby should not have to suffer because of my foolish choices. You know the ramifications of producing a baby that society would label a ‘bastard’. I cannot bear the thought that this child should suffer because of my idiocy. The baby is my most important consideration. I shall do anything to protect this tiny life.”

  “I have no desire to see that happen. I’ll be happy to give the baby my name, “he said, in a matter of fact manner. Perhaps that will make up a bit for not telling you the truth about my sexual preference.”

  I was stunned. “Owen, how can you possibly say that? How could you want to do so, knowing full well that this child is not yours?”

  “It’s really quite simple, Sophia. I’m a homosexual male. I don’t want to have a sexual relationship with a female or another sham marriage. I cannot live this way either. Yet, I do want an heir. I am the last in the Winnsborough line. My parents want that more than anything.”

  “But, my child would inherit from you... I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

  “How is that different than if I adopted a child? In addition, isn’t that what would be best for the baby? He or she would have the best of everything, always... would carry a fine name...would be well-respected.”

  “Owen, I feel as though I would be selling my child.”

  “No, no. I don’t mean to sound that way. Surely, the baby would have the same advantages if raised a Somerville. However, I strongly suspect that you have enjoyed the independence from your family that marriage has brought, whether you’ve been happily married to me or not. Also, if society thinks that this baby is mine, there will be no questions about who the true father is?””

  “That’s true,” I answered. I couldn’t deny it. My mind was whirling so quickly. I finally wanted to do what was right. However, I wasn’t at all certain what that was.

  “What precisely are you suggesting, Owen?”

  He sniffed, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I’m suggesting that we do go forth with an annulment after the child is born. I shall settle an appropriate amount of money upon you. You will never have to worry about being dependent upon your parents again. I shall give the child my name, with all rights and privileges. In return, I ask that you keep the truth about my sexual preference confidential between us. Sophia, I assume you know that homosexuality is a crime in England. If the truth were known, I could be arrested and even put to death.”

  “My God, Owen. Surely not. I didn’t know that. I’ve always been led to believe that it is an illness of some sort.”

  “Yes, that’s the prevailing opinion, but I have known that I was not interested in the opposite sex since I was very young. And, I never liked the traditional male pastimes, such as fox hunting, fly fishing, athletics of any sort. Actually I preferred quieter pursuits, like reading and playing card games. I don’t think it is an illness, at all. I feel a though I am a woman trapped in a male body. I think that I began life this way. Certainly, no person would choose a lifestyle that was considered so loathsome. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course. But, I have never thought of a preference for the same sex as ‘loathsome. I knew girls at school who were attracted to other girls, and they weren’t loathsome. You know how well read I am…how much I adore history…I’m certain you know that as far back as Alexander the Great, there were known homosexuals. In ancient Greece it wasn’t at all unusual. Some of the greatest artists and writers who have ever lived weren’t heterosexual. Perhaps I’m different in that respect. I really don’t know. But, of course, I would never have purposely entered into a marriage with you, had I known this. I’m sure that you can understand that. It just never crossed my mind, Owen.”

  “Certainly. I should never have married you. It wouldn’t have crossed my mind either, if my parents had just left me alone.”

  “Owen, this is all past history. Now, we’re at the point in time where we have to deal with what is reality, and I’m glad we’ve both been honest. We have to look forward, not backward, and I would never wish to place you in any sort of jeopardy. What grounds would you intend for the annulment?”

  “Something innocuous. I’ll place the guilt upon myself. I’ll admit to marrying you under false pretenses. I’ll say that your money was the motivating factor.”

  “Owen, nobody would believe that. If anything, your family has even more money than mine, and certainly as much blue blood.”

  “I’ll think of something. I need to refresh myself about the grounds that the Church of England allows for annulment. Couldn’t we say that I lied to you about something? Anything but the fact that I’m a homosexual?”

  I still felt a dreadful stab of guilt. It was bad enough that such a nightmare was unfolding. I hated the fact that Owen’s parents might spend the rest of their lives thinking that a grandchild had been the result our ill-fated union. “I don’t see how I could lie to your parents about the baby, Owen. That would be a cruel lie.”

  “Would it, Sophia? Is it better for them to know that they will never have a grandchild than to accept your child with joy? I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you think that it would be even worse to tell them that the baby they are so thrilled about is not any relation to them?”

  “Perhaps we should think on this a bit more. It has been a dreadfully unsettling night. I think we both need to sleep, and then we can discuss this again with clearer heads,” I answered.

  “Sophia, please don’t leave the flat. I shall go to my club. I don’t want you traipsing about London at this hour. If you are going to return to Winnsborough Hall, I shall ring you. I swear I’ll return within a few days. I want to see my Solicitor before I leave London. I shall figure a way to resolve this muddle. The important thing is that we agree the marriage should end, and that we get on with our lives. ”

  “Yes, that’s the important thing,” I answered. “And, I shall stay here tonight. I’m exhausted, and need time to sort through this mess. But, I shall expect you at Winnsborough Hall by week’s end.” He leaned down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Strangely I felt more comfortable with him than I ever had before. Perhaps that was because it was the first honest conversation we’d ever shared.

  “Take care,” he said. “I’ll think on all of this, and we’ll speak again at Winnsborough Hall.” Then, without another word, Owen left me sitting in the parlor of the flat. I put my head down and sobbed, out of exhaustion, sadness and relief.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JULY 23, 1936

  A Widow

  I returned to Winnsborough Hall on the early morning train. Upon arrival, I rang Edwina and told her everything, including the truth about Owen’s homosexuality. I felt a tad guilty when telling her, as I had just promised Owen that the subject would be treated confidentially. However, I was not about to lie to Edwina, and I knew that I could trust her implicitly. It was not a great surprise to her anyway. In fact, she said that she’d rather suspected something of the sort. She asked if I wanted her to come over from Paris. I could see no reason for that, other than the obvious comfort that would result from not shouldering the burden alone. I knew that eventually when we were alone, I would explain everything further, and was just thankful that I had her.

  Whatever I’d expected, it wasn’t what I’d discovered in London. I was surprised that Edwina had thought such a thing. It was 1936, and those persons who had different sexual preferences weren’t able to live openly, nor be honest about their desires. After the admission of his homosexuality, I finally comprehended Owen’s behavior and lack of sexual desire. I suppose I felt somewhat better knowing there was nothing I might have done to make him want me. It was difficult to muster up outrage at this eye-opener, as I hadn’t been honest with him when we married. Were his lies any worse than mine? I knew that we would talk further, and was optimistic that we would find a solution. A myriad of thoughts ran through my mind as I tried to rearrange plans to adapt to the new situation. The fact that Owen knew when the baby was due certain
ly simplified everything. I would still have to go through the pretense of changing the date of birth, in order for both sets of parents to believe that the baby was Owen’s. Nevertheless, if I didn’t have to keep the supposed father from knowing the truth about when the baby was born, it would make the situation less complex.

  Having revealed my secret to Owen, my other concern was how to tell my parents about the end of the marriage. I knew that they would be terribly upset, primarily because of the family name. It was likely that I would be the one at fault. Mummy, in particular, thought Owen was a perfectly splendid fellow. I kept repeating to myself that these things did happen in life, and that my parents were not babes in the wood. Nonetheless, I felt embarrassed for Owen, as well as myself. How could I foolishly not have seen the truth? Why did society practice such ridiculous prejudices toward a group of people who were not harming anyone? Surely, Owen and I could find another explanation. I sincerely believed that we could come up with a story that was not painful for everyone concerned.

  However, three days later, all hope of such an outcome evaporated. I had just drunk a glass of warm milk, and was ready to retire for the night, when the telephone rang. It was authorities in London informing me that they had just pulled my husband’s body from the Thames River. I was extremely calm on the telephone. Then, I hung up and fell to pieces. What had possessed him to do such a thing? Why? We had discussed everything. We were ready to come to an amicable solution. Why? Why? Why? I sank down on the settee by the telephone table, and tried to think. Mrs. Whittaker found me there a few moments later. I must have looked white as a sheet.

  “Mum, are you all right? Is it the baby?”

  “No, no, not that. But, something dreadful has happened. Lord Winnsborough has died. I must ring my parents and the Duke and Duchess. I shall need you to make certain the guest rooms are ready. I’m certain family will be arriving. I also think that we need to call the entire household together and tell them of this tragedy. Would you please ask Morris to come to me at once?”