Theodore requested a private meeting with Mabel, and after they had put the children to bed, she met him in his study. Theodore offered Mabel a seat on the burgundy couch and he sat in his high-backed chair behind the desk.
“Mabel, I’ve something important to discuss with you. I’ve delayed this talk, hoping to give you time to adjust here without . . . Alice. But, I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer.” He rose from his desk, holding a bundle of papers, and sat next to Mabel, careful not to graze her knee with his own. “I have here—” he placed the papers on the coffee table in front of them “—a proposition.”
Mabel gulped. She was under the impression that Theodore was still in mourning over Alice, but the words he’d spoken gave her a faint clue as to what the proposition entailed.
“Mabel, I am not a well man. I may not—I do not have much time left,” Theodore began. As he detailed the history of his health, Mabel listened quietly. She asked no questions, made no comments; she did not clear her throat. She stared with wide eyes at the sorrowful man whom she’d grown to love as an uncle throughout the years.
Theodore had suffered from stomach ulcers ever since his youth, but three years ago, he experienced greater pain than he was used to. His doctor recommended that he relocate to Bath to improve his health. In addition, Alice had just given birth to Harriet, and the doctors insisted that she take excellent care of herself. She was a frail creature, and had it not been for her poor health, Theodore wouldn’t have made the trip to Bath.
Once they moved to the city of healing waters, the couple instantly felt rejuvenated. They were both optimistic about their health; as long as they stayed in Bath, they’d live forever! Unfortunately, fine waters and fair weather aside, Theodore’s mortality was approaching. A year into their idyllic life, Theodore was diagnosed with gastric cancer. Even the greatest doctors gave him two to three more years to live. Faced with the fact that he would not live to raise his daughters, Theodore trusted Alice to take care of the household and manage the family’s finances once he’d gone.
When Alice became pregnant with Ruby, Theodore’s concern for his children if his wife died in childbirth contributed to his own demise. His health declined greatly in the months before Ruby’s birth, but it was Alice’s death that shortened his life expectancy. He would never recover, never stop grieving.
The doctors increased his pain medication, but there was little else they could do. Theodore would die; it was only a matter of time.
At that point in the conversation, Theodore offered Mabel a drink of water. When she declined, he helped himself; it was obvious there was more to say and he needed to rehydrate his vocal cords. Mabel dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.
“Mabel . . .” Theodore took her hand suddenly. The grim subject matter had rendered both hands cold, so neither noticed the clamminess of the other’s palm. “Dear . . . I’ve come to the proposition now. In the three years since you first came to the house, we’ve all grown to accept you as part of the family. I know I’m speaking for Alice as well; she trusted you immensely.
“I’ve seen how you treat my girls, just the same as if they were your own daughters. I’ve never seen anyone give another’s children as much love. Now that their natural mother will no longer be able to raise them, and their father will soon be joining their mother, I think it only right for the girls to be cared for by their only other steady parental figure. They will have difficulties, and it will be a comfort to them if you are present in their lives—always. And so . . .”
Mabel swallowed, preparing herself for the question she knew would escape Theodore’s lips. After all her years dreaming of marriage, she would finally leave her maiden name behind. If only it were under different circumstances; this was certainly not how she ever imagined a proposal of marriage.
Mabel Crowley, she thought to herself, thinking it would be the last time she referred to herself as such. At last, I’ll finally be rid of you! As she looked at Theodore, she imagined the ideal of which she’d always dreamt: married life. She already took her meals with him, spent hours of the day in his company, contributed to the raising of his children. Could it be that they were already acting as man and wife? If it was so, Mabel concluded that marriage was just as delightful as she’d imagined; she was so happy here with the Hartleys. She was perfectly content here with Theodore. Why did she ever think that Charlie Archer was the only man she could or would ever marry? Charlie . . . As Mabel’s thoughts drifted, she realized there was one aspect of married life that she and Theodore did not share. How could she have forgotten intimacy? What would it be like to address her master as “Ted, dear” instead of “sir”? To be seen in her nightgown, hair uncombed, teeth unwashed, as an everyday occurrence? To awake in the middle of the night and see Ted sleeping beside her; would she relinquish her quarters and sleep in Alice’s sheets? Good God! Would she be able to live up to the expectations of a Hartley? Currently, she was only a governess, but as the mistress of Emerson House . . . Did she have the stomach to regularly consort with the highest elite? Would she disappoint Ted?
Looking at him now, Mabel saw through Alice’s eyes and perceived Ted as a husband instead of a beloved employer. His age aside, he was an attractive man, and Mabel had always been aware of his great charm. It would be easy to devote oneself to him. He was a good man.
Mabel thought of the wedding. It would be understandably modest, for the children’s sake. Her parents would be ecstatic; they might not be able to speak in coherent sentences for a month! Her mother had mentioned to her on several occasions that she hoped Mabel had enough sense to marry her employer while he was still vulnerable.
Oh dear, the kiss at the altar—what would the children think? Perhaps they wouldn’t, for the sake of the children. Yes, Ted, was a considerate man. A mere kiss on the hand would suffice for the ceremony. But after the ceremony, after the reception, that night and for the rest of their lives—certainly her mother wouldn’t scold her for performing her wifely duties. But with Theodo—Ted—what would it be like? Mabel knew she shouldn’t expect the same passion as with Charlie; she didn’t love Ted the way she had loved Charlie. True, she had grown very fond of Ted, but she had never imagined . . .
Ted would undoubtedly expect Mabel to act as wife to him day and night; Alice did, so why shouldn’t she? Was Alice frightened in the beginning, Mabel wondered? Oh, how she wished she could talk to Alice, to prepare her for what to expect—Great Scott! What was the matter with her? Of course she wouldn’t want to discuss this delicate subject with Alice! If Alice only knew, the poor dear, that her husband would soon be sleeping next to another woman . . . Mabel felt incredibly guilty.
Ted and Alice were such a perfect pair; Mabel would never be able to take Alice’s place. Ever since Alice died, Ted had been miserable. Perhaps he needed a wife; perhaps if Emerson House had a mistress again, he would feel rejuvenated. Unless . . . Mabel was already living with the Hartleys, and she was treated as the mistress of the house. If Ted was depressed because of a lack of companionship, perhaps the only part he missed was . . .
No, no, Mabel couldn’t believe it. Theodore was a distinguished and respected gentleman. He would never let his passions rule him—unless . . . The Hartleys did produce three children, after all, and Alice never seemed the least bit unhappy. Was it possible that Mabel was worrying for nothing? It might not be at all unpleasant—Alice was always smiling and cheerful. Yes, that must be it! Ted must be a wonderful husband, in all respects. He was kind and charming, and his age ought to have supplied him with wisdoms of the world. Perhaps he could be tender and loving—
Mabel felt her cheeks colour and she quickly looked at her feet. Now that she’d evaluated his character and concluded that he would make for a suitable husband, it was time to prepare herself for the moment she’d waited for her entire life. Theodore Hartley was going to propose marriage. What would he say? Would he kneel to the ground? They were both already sitting. Should she hesitate? Was there a proper
protocol in the acceptance of a widower’s proposal? Should she indicate she was only accepting out of duty, or should she enthusiastically throw her arms about his neck? Mabel decided she would let his tone and words be her guide. He was still solemn, so she would mirror his actions accordingly. She turned her knees towards him and blinked her eyes twice, indicating that he could continue with his proposal.
“And so, I’ve arranged for you to inherit everything I own after I’m gone, including this house and all other properties. All the money from my father’s railway accomplishments and my tenants will no doubt continuously add to your income for decades at least, unless you choose to sell the properties. You will be very financially comfortable, as will my girls, as will their children, and, unless you squander the entire fortune, even further generations. You will want for nothing; you’ll have servants at your disposal and will be able to spend money however and whenever you wish.”
“Good heavens!” Mabel tried to drink water but the liquid spluttered out of her mouth back into the glass.
Theodore rose from the couch and brought to the table a bottle of gin, which had been hidden in the bookshelf behind his encyclopedias T—Z. He poured two drinks and nodded to Mabel.
“Sir! Forgive me, but should you be drink—”
Theodore gulped his drink and placed the untouched glass in Mabel’s hand. His eyes challenged hers, and for a few brief seconds, Mabel saw not a sick, old man but a rambunctious youth, much like Charlie but with the privileges of wealth and class. Mabel drank the gin. As she coughed, Theodore tried unsuccessfully to hide the twinkle in his eye.
“Everything I’m telling you has already been thoroughly discussed with my solicitors,” he continued. “Together, we’ve drawn up a contract that details all my wishes, including the conditions by which you must abide if you decide to bind yourself to it. Since I will be entrusting my children’s lives and my entire fortune to you, I will be requiring some sacrifices on your part. After all, I need to know you’ll take this seriously.”
Theodore explained the stipulations to Mabel, thoroughly, individually, and with full justification of his reasoning:
1. Mabel must never raise any children of her own. Theodore’s girls were going to need Mabel’s undivided attention, and because of their soon-to-be orphaned state, he wanted them to feel safe with the one parental unit who would not leave them in their youth. The presence of other children would undoubtedly cause the Hartley girls to feel unloved and insecure.
2. Mabel may hire as many servants as she requires, but she may never hire a governess. The appearance of a governess would fill the children with doubts; perhaps Mabel was going to die and had hired a replacement. Theodore was trusting Mabel to act as the replacement mother to his children. There were to be no outsiders, other than those necessary to manage the household. However, Mabel could enrol any of the children in academies outside the home; her previous duties as governess were not binding.
3. Mabel may not marry until all three Hartley girls have married and inherited their shares of the Hartley fortune. Once a child became married, the girl would be entered into a joint account and would be able to dip into the Hartley finances as she pleased. After Mabel had no more responsibilities, she may then live as she pleased. As it was, the children would be without their biological parents; it would be too great a strain for them to endure a surrogate mother and father. In addition, romantic affairs would not be permitted; the Hartley reputation would not be compromised due to any foolish fancies.
4. If Mabel agreed to the contract and later broke her agreement, she would lose any and all connections to the Hartley estate and fortune. As all finances were to be transferred to the name of “Mabel Crowley”, no persons other than Mabel Crowley could use the money. For the sake of an example, if Mabel wished to purchase a larger house for her relatives, she could do so. The deed to the house would be in Mabel’s name, and if she broke any part of the agreement, said relatives would be turned out of their house without any compensation. If Mabel lived in accordance with the agreement, she would continue to benefit from the Hartley estate and fortune; she would remain in a joint account along with the married Hartley girls and be allowed to utilize any money she wished. If Mabel did not abide by the contract and any of the children were under the age of eighteen, such children would be removed from her care and turned over to an orphanage. The few relations of Theodore and Alice were ill-equipped and had expressed on several prior occasions that they desired no involvement.
“Are you alright?” Theodore asked. He had finally finished listing the terms and noticed the ghostly pallor of Mabel’s face. “I realize this is quite involved, and quite a sacrifice. I don’t want you to make any decisions right away. Take your time, think it over, talk to your family—if you wish, you may consult my solicitors.” He handed the contract to her, indicating that she could read and analyze it at her leisure.
Mabel filled her empty glass with gin and took a second drink. She asked if she might leave the house for a few days and visit her family while thinking over his proposition.
“Of course, of course. Take as much time as you need. A week at least, I insist.”
Mabel packed a small case—only the essentials, as she didn’t intend to be gone for very long. Just a quick trip to Bruton, just a quick glimpse of Charlie; she promised herself she would remain in control of her emotions. She just had to find out if Charlie was married and had children of his own. Had he forgotten her? Was he happy? Should she remove his memory from her heart and commit to the Hartleys for the rest of her life?
Theodore had offered Mabel the use of his automobile for her journey but she’d declined. She was afraid her nerves would get the better of her; a train ride would steady her emotions.
Mabel heard the conductor announce the train’s arrival into Bruton, the town that was the setting of so many memories in her heart. Mabel hurried to exit the train. She was so anxious to see Charlie, to hear his voice again. Oh, wouldn’t he be surprised! Even if he was already married, at least she’d know. Of course she’d feel regretful, but at least the supposing and not knowing wouldn’t plague her insides every day. Mabel stepped off the train onto the platform and smelled the familiar smells from all the years she had travelled to this station.
Calm yourself, Mabel instructed. This is no time for dramatics.
As she tried to leave the station, she noticed it was considerably more crowded than it had ever been in all her years of travelling. The station was full of young men and boys in uniform waiting for their train to take them into the unknown. Mothers and wives and girlfriends, all with tear-stained handkerchiefs, huddled around their soldiers, determined to cling to them until the very last moment.
Mabel tried to slink past the groups, but in her efforts not to disrupt anyone’s heartfelt goodbyes, she didn’t much further her journey towards the exit. She managed to skirt past a red-headed man slightly older than her who was hugging his wife and daughter. None of them were speaking; preserving the bond of love between them had greater meaning than any words could.
Mabel found it impossible to move past a sobbing mother who was begging her son not to leave, so Mabel redirected her course. While planning her new escape route, Mabel saw a good-looking young man with his arms around two women who Mabel assumed to be his mother and his wife. She couldn’t see too clearly, but the mother looked familiar. The woman whispered something to her son that made his eyes brim with tears. The woman, in a last effort to mother her little boy, wiped his upturned nose with her hanky. The boy let her take care of him; he smiled, the right corner of his mouth raising higher than his left—
“No!” Mabel shrieked but, in the commotion, it went unnoticed. Charlie looked so different—it couldn’t be him! His hair was cut close to his head, and his expression no longer conveyed his self-confidence. He was frightened, so frightened. Oh, why did he do it? Mabel wanted to rush up to him and convince him to stay, but if his mother a
nd wife couldn’t—his wife? Mabel didn’t dare approach him; he was married! She couldn’t cause a disturbance before his departure for who knew how long.
The distant but still piercing voice of the conductor called out the two words dreaded by every person in the station. The soldiers who had no well-wishers accompanying them to the station boarded first. They tried to mask their fear by immediately chatting about nonsense to their fellow lonely travelers. Next came those with only one companion: the distraught mother or the new bride. Hankies started to wave, as if the practiced motion could relieve the pain if done fervently enough.
Finally, after kisses and hugs and promises to take care of themselves and promises to write and promises to come home and shouts of love and more hugs and more kisses, nearly every man had boarded the train. Mabel had watched Charlie’s goodbye to his two women. She watched as he kissed the lips of his wife. She bit her lip and remembered the taste of his. She extended her own hand as the senior Mrs Archer stroked her son’s cheek. How Mabel wished she could feel his skin one more time!
He hopped up the train steps with more energy than he had intended and stood among his comrades waving to their loved ones below. Mabel stood among the mourners, and despite her lack of handkerchief making her conspicuous, Charlie did not see her.
As the train pulled away, he kept his eyes on his family, the last comforting image he’d see for . . . As the train pulled away, he kept his angled smile plastered on his face so that those watching would be able to remember him as he was, despite his eyes betraying his fear. As the train pulled away, Mabel watched the love of her life drift away from her, his crooked smile mesmerizing her until the very last.
There was an odd silence after the train was gone; muffled sobs and sniffles seemed as distant as their boys in war. None of the women wished to leave; if they stayed put, perhaps the train would come back. Mabel’s shock of the situation finally left her. Her senses were overwhelmed as she realized what she had seen. Charlie was married, and he had been sent to his death. Mabel tried to breathe, but couldn’t find her throat. Before she could look round to find a place to sit and clear her head, Mabel fainted. She was not alone.
Mabel burst through the doors of Emerson House and ran down the hall to the nearest bath. She scrubbed her face and dried it, but it was no use. She still looked as if she’d been crying for hours. She could barely see out of her eyes, they were so sore. The rest of her face was puffy and red. She lay down in her room for an hour and then powdered her face to hide the colour.
She came downstairs and found Theodore playing with the children. She asked for a word in private with him and he complied. As he led the fragile girl to his study, he noted that she had returned earlier than expected. He had given her a few days to think the proposition over, and here, she had returned in less than one.
“I assume the word in private is in regards to the contract?”
Mabel nodded. She wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt and put them behind her so Theodore wouldn’t see them shaking.
“Mr Hartley, I accept.”
The next week, Theodore and Mabel finalized the contract in the presence of his solicitors. She signed each document calmly and with full knowledge of what she was doing. Charlie would soon be dead; it was only a matter of time. Mabel had accepted it. Her hands no longer trembled.
END OF BOOK ONE
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