The Meridian Gamble

by Garcia, Daniel

  “Now come, let us not talk about Marjorie any further. She does not matter. Instead, let us get to know each other better.”

  We are near the gazebo, which Roland walks toward. But I stand still, in frustration, and he turns back in concern.

  “You are not doing this right,” I say, in defeat.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You are courting me. You are supposed to be charming and sweet, and speak of pleasant things. You are not doing this right at all.”

  Roland stops and faces me.

  “Is that what you would like? Because I can be very charming. I can talk about the sky and the weather, and how beautiful the flowers are for hours. I can say such wondrous things that your head will spin about in circles, until you are in a state of confusion. If that is what you want, I will be that person, you need only ask. But I do not believe it. I refuse to believe you are a girl who cares for such silly things. What I instead choose to think is that you are a young woman who would much rather know me for exactly the man that I am.”

  His words make me dizzy, I have never heard anyone speak like this before, so bluntly. It takes me a moment to recover, and I stand there in silence, trying to take it all in. But I am struck by a realization; he is right. Roland’s strange lack of guile is something I have hungered for.

  And he stands there, looking impossibly handsome, waiting for my reply.

  “I tire of it,” I say, slowly. “Of the artifice, the dresses and the parties. I tire of the hypocrisy, and listening to people only say what they think others want to hear, and never what they truly feel. But you are oddly direct, Mr. Bennett. And though it takes some getting used to, I find it refreshing.”

  He stares at me again with the intense, blue eyes that seem to cut through me.

  “And that, my dear Caroline, is why I am taken with you. Because you are an exceptional individual who can see past the lies people tell her, and decide what is truth for herself. You have spirit. I could tell that from the moment we first met, and it is what instantly charmed me,” Roland says.

  I am not sure how he could know such things from our brief encounter in the hallway. I was just a girl standing in a nightgown. But Roland smiles at me, and I cannot help but to smile back. And any concerns or doubts about him seem to magically drift away.

  “So now will you join me for some tea?”

  “Yes, I most certainly will,” I say.

  And I take his hand.

  We retire to the gazebo, a wrought iron structure in the center of the garden that has blooming vines growing over it. Mother has had our gardeners surround it with potted gardenias, and their smell fills the air with a scent more beautiful than any of her expensive perfumes. Roland pulls out a chair for me, and sits across the table.

  Tea and cakes have already been set here, and it makes me feel special, to have others cater to me. I feel like I am royalty. And I take the liberty of pouring some for Roland and myself.

  He does not add sugar to his tea, and takes the tiniest of sips. And he stares at me expectantly.

  “I’ve asked probing questions about you, but perhaps I should be more of a gentleman, and allow you to ask something of me.”

  “I have quite a few questions, actually. More than a single afternoon could contain, I’m afraid,” I say. “But perhaps we can start with your family, the Bennetts. I must confess, I am not familiar with them. Can you tell me something about them?”

  “Of course. We have been abroad, in Europe, mostly France and Germany, working on our interests there. Father is in Denmark right now, building our railroad empire. But he asked me to return to England, to re-establish our presence here. And we have made great progress.”

  There is something odd about the way he speaks. I feel almost that it sounds rehearsed. And it is the first thing about Roland that rings false somehow, though I am not sure why.

  “How fascinating, to have spent so much time in far away places,” I say.

  “To a degree. But I have missed England. Clearly there are far more interesting things to be seen here.”

  He means me with his innuendo, and I feel my face go flush.

  “And my father’s company. What is your interest in it?”

  “Railroads run on coal. It is how I met your father. The merger of the two companies makes great sense. And if the truth be told, it has come at a perfect time for him. His affairs have become muddled, but I am quite certain we can help him get his business in order once again in a short matter of time.”

  Suddenly, my worst fears are confirmed.

  “Father’s business is … muddled?”

  “Yes. He has borrowed money, to secure the mining rights to certain properties, which do have great value. But unfortunately, he has been taken advantage of by his creditors, who have made him loans at unfair rates, quite possibly with the intention of taking control of his endeavor. But upon our marriage, we will help him to pay them off. My family’s enterprise has generated vast wealth, and we can ensure your father has the ability to grow his business without fear of corruption. It is the perfect union.”

  By union, I suspect he means both that of the companies and our own. And I ponder his words. Again, Roland has shown his direct nature, but this time he has given me the knowledge that everyone was trying to keep from me. That there is trouble with the family business. Suddenly, I understand why Mother’s friends, Mrs. Lawlor and Mrs. Edmington, have turned their backs on us. They feel that our fortunes have changed, and no longer wish to associate with us. It is the reason that Gregory Lawlor will not marry poor Marjorie, and has chosen Philippa Price-Pearce, instead.

  But what the Lawlors and Edmingtons of the world don’t realize is that they have written us off too quickly. That the power to change our fate now lies in my hands.

  “Thank you for speaking to me with such candor. I am grateful to you, more than you will ever realize. That alone is a gift that has endeared you to me greatly.”

  “It is my pleasure.”

  “But I am afraid that there is something else you are withholding from me, much in the same way you have accused me of doing.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “You have asked me about myself, but so far, I have learned nothing about you.”

  “I would disagree. You have learned that I am rude and arrogant, and perhaps an insufferable bore.”

  “Insufferable, perhaps. But hardly boring,” I say, with a smile. “But tell me, what are your hopes and dreams? Do you care only for the world of business? Or do you have some other secret wish you have never told another?”

  He furrows his brow, and stares me down, and I can see that he is truly considering my question. And finally, after a moment, he speaks.

  “I only wish for one thing. Which is to find someone I can love, who will truly love me in return. Not just for one lifetime, but forever. Anything else in this world is insignificant, and of little matter. And I am hoping that person will be you, if you find this marriage acceptable.”

  Forever. That word comes up again, as it did the other night, when he magically appeared in my room. And though I am tempted to ask him about that, for some reason, it doesn’t seem necessary. But I am curious that he would say he wishes to find someone to love for longer than a lifetime, which doesn’t seem possible. It sounds like something from a fairytale, and his words are confusing. Yet, they stir me.

  “You say ‘if’ I find this marriage acceptable, as though I have a choice in the matter,” I say, with a smile. “But I am honor bound to comply with my parents’ wishes, I am afraid.”

  “No, Caroline, you are not,” he says, seriously. “I don’t want you to do this because of duty. I want you to do it because it is something you want to do. And if you will not have me, I suppose I will settle for one of your sisters, though preferably not Marjorie. I will have to wait several years for the younger one. Somehow I suspect she will be less discerning in her tastes.”

  And my heart begins to race. It is a fear among
st women my age, to be saddled with a marriage that is loveless, or to a man who is hideous in appearance. And yet, here Roland sits before me, a man of great handsomeness, professing the kind of love one would read about in storybooks. Or that I might even write of. An intelligent man, who I can quarrel with for hours. And I realize that on some level, he is exactly what I have sought. And I wonder how it is that Fate has brought him to me, in such an odd way.

  I reach out and touch his hand. It is warm, almost more than seems normal. And if Roland was not the perfect picture of health, I would worry. But the heat coming from his skin feels delicious.

  “No sister of mine shall have you, not so long as there are stairs for me to push them down,” I finally say. “Because there is nothing I would like more in this world than to accept your marriage proposal.”

  A look of relief spreads across Roland’s face, and we are both overcome with giddy smiles. And with this choice I have made, I am quite certain I have finally set my life on the course of adventure I have always dreamt of.

  Later in the week, Madame LaForge sends over a special delivery, along with her seamstress, to make sure that her precious parcel fits. It has been decided that I am to wear the emerald dress to the Admiral’s Ball, not Marjorie. And though I do not have my sister’s green eyes to match the gown, perhaps it is for the best. As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I realize that the dress is more suited to my frame than hers.

  Again, Mother and Cecily hover around me, as we adjust my new frock. The woman from the dress shop fusses with the hems, and she stares at me with a look of confusion. Oddly, the gown seems to fit me perfectly, at the waist, the shoulders and even the length. It would seem as though Fate herself has sewn it together, and decided irrevocably that it should be mine.

  “So odd. There is nothing for me to do, even in the length,” the poor woman says, unsure of where to place her pins.

  “Take it up a half inch, just to be sure,” Mother commands with authority.

  And being of the lower class, the seamstress does as she is told.

  As the alterations are being made, Marjorie comes into the room, with Madeline in tow. My heart sinks, as she hovers around the periphery of our efforts. She seems distraught, and there is a wild look in her eyes. And I can tell that it is like a knife in her side, to see me wearing her precious dress.

  But this time, she cannot hold her tongue. The pressure inside of her bursts, and Marjorie speaks up.

  “Mother, are you serious? Are you really going to allow Caroline to wear my gown?”

  “I am quite serious. You will wear the creme gown that was meant for her, instead.”

  “The cream gown?” she shrieks, in dismay. “But what will everyone think? That I am the spinster sister who is meant to be shipped off to a convent?”

  Madeline laughs, but Marjorie glares at her, and our sister quickly realizes the comment wasn’t meant to be humorous.

  “They will think that you are being a devoted sister, one who has the good taste to allow her sibling a moment in the sun on the day her engagement is to be announced. And after that, you can go back to being the beautiful flower you were meant to be.”

  “But Mother, this is not fair. This should be my moment,” she wails, in an unpleasant manner.

  And I fear my sister is about to cry.

  “I cannot believe you would …”

  “Gregory Lawlor,” I say, before she can protest any further.

  The words stun her into silence. Marjorie looks to me, with big, blurry tears welling up in her eyes.

  I’m not sure why I blurt out his name. It is cruel to taunt my sister in this way. Yet, instinctively, it feels like the right thing to do.

  “What do you mean?” she replies, filled with a momentary hope.

  “Roland’s family is quite influential,” I say, slowly. “And they get along with the Lawlors quite well. I’m sure it is not out of the question that they could convince Mr. and Mrs. Lawlor that you are a far more suitable match for Gregory than that horrible Philippa Price-Pearce. In fact, we would be saving him from a cruel fate.”

  Mother glares at me, harshly, but I ignore her for the moment.

  “Are you … are you certain of this, Caroline?”

  I am not certain of anything, and I am not sure why I say it. But Roland does not seem without his own influence. He seems magical almost, with his supreme self-confidence. And for some reason, in this moment, I feel as though he can make this happen for Marjorie, if not an even better match. It almost feels like an outside force has taken over my mind, one that compels me to say these things.

  “If that’s what you want. But then again, Roland is not of the opinion that the Lawlors are even good enough for you. Apparently, there is a prince from Denmark he wishes for you to meet.”

  “R … royalty?”

  “Of course, dear sister. Yours is the kind of beauty which is meant to bend the will of even princes.”

  And a flutter of a smile crosses her face.

  “And when exactly did Roland tell you all of this?” Mother asks.

  “Why, when we had tea in the garden, Mother,” I say, innocently. “The one that you arranged. We discussed many things. Quite fortunately, you have found me a fiancée who is quite the excellent conversationalist.”

  And I turn to Marjorie once more.

  “You must understand, dear sister, that what our parents have provided for me is more than just a marriage. It is a union of our two companies, so they can form a single corporation of such power it will make all of London take notice. It will dwarf anything the Price-Pearces can ever hope to accomplish. And I make this sacrifice not just for our company, but also for you. That you and all of my sisters may find the unions of your choice, for love or power or any reason you desire, but not of convenience. And all I ask in return is that you forgive me for the small sin of stealing your emerald dress.”

  Mother goes silent, and looks away. I am unsure of what she thought, that perhaps I am just a silly girl who was thrilled to be married. That I did not truly understand the nature of my being promised to Roland, despite it being explained to me. And Marjorie seems filled with a cautious optimism.

  “A prince? Are you sure he said prince?”

  “I remember quite clearly my relief that he did not say duke. Because that would not be good enough for you, my dear sister.”

  And a smile of delight flickers over Marjorie’s face.

  “I quite like the idea of being related to royalty,” Madeline says.

  And we all laugh, even the seamstress from the dress shop.

  And finally, the tension leaves the room. And I realize that for the first time in days, the gloom that has hung over our house has been washed away, and it is all thanks to Roland.

  I do not see my beloved again for days. It is decided that we will not be together again, until the Admiral’s Ball, where our engagement is to be announced. We do not want to cause controversy, from the neighbors spying us together and gossiping. And our marriage is to take place quickly, after the announcement of our betrothal and the merger of the two companies, perhaps in as soon as six months. I suspect that Father hopes to stun his competitors, and perhaps put some fear into them over his cunning. But I no longer worry about such things.

  I only think of Roland.

  The feeling of missing him alternates between agony and an odd feeling of relief. Though I am excited to start my new life, a part of me is glad that I don’t have to just yet, so I can savor my last moments of youth.

  But I am curious to know more about this future husband of mine. Our time in the garden was so fleeting, and though we discussed much, I now feel that I barely know him. Yet, in other ways, the connection between us is strong. There are moments where I feel he is always with me, and that I have known him forever.

  The thought of leaving my family overwhelms me, that I will go to live in a house with him, that I will shed the old life I held in mixed regard behind. And what will it be like to s
hare a marriage bed with Roland? As curious as I am to experience this, to know how his touch will feel, I am also afraid of that unknown.

  Yet, I do have a hint of the joys that are to come, from the night when we first met, when he appeared in my bed and seemed to fill my body with pleasure. Which still puzzles me. Though I dared not ask him about this when we met formally for the first time in the garden, I am curious to question him about it now, as we get to know each other better. He has been so open and honest with me, I know he will not mind my asking him foolish questions. And I know that he will have answers for me, about the mystery of appearing in my room.

  I know our life together will be pure bliss.

  After days of nervously waiting, the day of the Admiral’s Ball finally arrives. We put on our finest outfits and ride in the family’s carriage together, myself, Marjorie, Madeline and our parents. I feel sorry for Father, being crammed into a conveyance with four women, all dressed in gowns. And yet, he seems in good spirits of late. We all do, even Marjorie, who has a pleasant demeanor, as much as can be expected of her. And she looks lovely in her dress of white and cream. It amazes me how her beauty can make a fashion designed to be simple seem stunning. But I know this is of little comfort to her, as we are both pointedly aware of the fact that her gown of neutral colors was meant for me. Even worse, the diamond and emerald necklace she covets sparkles from around my neck.

  And Marjorie takes small, covert glances at it as we ride along, pretending she does not notice. But I suspect she wants to snatch it away from me.

  “So pretty,” she finally says, unable to hold her words any longer. But I have no doubt that she refers to the necklace, and not me. More than likely, she ponders about how beautiful she would look wearing my outfit.

  Mother seems to notice too, and comforts her.

  “Do not worry, daughter. You will have your chance to wear it soon enough.”

  Marjorie grits her teeth, and smiles bitterly.

  “But it looks so wonderful on Caroline. I would not want to tarnish the memory of this day by trying to invoke its memory.”