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 every 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 confused 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.
Entering the library, she closed the door and faced her husband. “I have some matters to discuss with you,” she said.
He looked up at her with a bored expression on his too handsome face. “Must you interrupt me now? I’m going over my speech for the house tomorrow morning.”
“I’m afraid this is urgent.”
“Then let us get it over with quickly,” he said, sitting back in the chair.
She said, “You once suggested I take a more active role in your charity group.”
“You should,” he said, more amiably. “If you can manage another large donation for us I might set up that nursing plan you’ve suggested.”
“The charity always seems short of funds.”
“We try to work on a large scope,” he said. “It takes more money than comes in.”
“That is not all.”
He frowned. “I don’t follow you.”
“I have been to the office of the society, and as your wife and a member of the board I insisted on checking the accounts.”
Ernest showed anger. “I’m sorry you took that on yourself. We might be criticized for interference.”
“I can’t think of anyone objecting except you,” she said grimly.
His eyebrows raised. “Meaning?”
“I’m rather good at mathematics, Ernest. Your books are a shambles. I’ve gone through all the bank accounts and I know you are a swindler!”
He jumped up, his face scarlet. “You dare say this to me!”
“I have the intention of saying it in court if I must.”
“You are mad!”
“We’ll let the court judge that.”
Ernest stared at her for a silent moment. Then his manner quickly changed. An apologetic smile crossed his handsome face, and he came around the desk to her. “My dear Joy, forgive me for losing my temper. Suppose the books are not as well kept as they ought to be? That doesn’t mean I’m a thief! I gave that old man his post out of charity! It would seem my sympathy was misplaced since he is incompetent. Let me correct this matter!”
She drew back from him. “Please don’t touch me!”
“Do I deserve this?” he asked. “Dare you say that I have not been a good husband to you?”
“Since you’ve brought it up, yes!”
He went pale with rage, and then in a sneering tone he said, “Let us not dwell on your shortcomings, my dear! Let us not mention the stories in the yellow press! You running off to Scotland and living with a man! Your despicable husband taking up residence in a brothel and dying there! You dare slander me! You should get down on your knees and thank me for marrying you!”
“Very good, Ernest,” she replied. “Now you are showing your true self! And by the way, Nancy told me all about your affair with her! And your many other women!”
He looked staggered. “Lies!” he said hoarsely. “All lies!”
“No,” she said. “You married me only for my money.”
“You owe me something for rescuing your sluttish reputation. You are now married to a respectable member of Parliament!”
“I have lived by my own code,” she said, with a calmness which even surprised her. “I do not need rescue by such as you!”
He pointed an angry finger at her. “You are my wife and so you will remain! You dare not attack me in the courts! I have important friends who will vouch for me!”
“I wonder.”
“Think twice,” he said. “Do you want to be in the limelight again? Further drag your family’s reputation in the mud? If you destroy me you destroy your last chance to be accepted by London society!”
She gave him a grim look. “There can be no reconciliation between us. You must move to a separate room. I no longer wish to live with you as your wife.”
“I shall not miss you,” he said.
She continued, “I will talk with the family lawyers. When I have their advice I will proceed against you. You may depend on that.”
He said, “I’m sure your lawyers will tell you to move slowly, if at all.”