Willow Grove Abbey (28 page)

Read Willow Grove Abbey Online

Authors: Mary Christian Payne

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Metaphysical & Visionary, #Romance, #Historical, #20th Century, #Victorian, #Metaphysical, #Historical Romance

“Of course
. How could I ever forget?”

“Well,
two days before that I went through absolute horror. I told my parents of my feelings for you, and Mummy went mad. I have never seen her in such a state. She was thoroughly out of her mind. Completely irrational.”


Because I wasn’t of the gentry?”

“Yes, partly.
However, I think even more because you are Irish and Catholic. She is demented on both subjects. She threatened horrible retribution if I continued to see you.”

“What sort of retribution?
What sort of revenge could she possibly enact upon me?”

“She said
that she was prepared to pay a prostitute to say that you had performed an abortion, thus ruining your career, and possibly causing you to be sent to prison.”

“And you believed she would
do such a thing?”

“Yes. Definitely.
She would have, Spence. It could have ruined you. Don’t you see, I couldn’t allow that to happen?”

“Why didn’t you co
me to me with the truth?”

“Because I knew that you would want to tr
y and talk to her, and I knew that would be futile. It would only have caused more pain. I didn’t want to expose you to her verbal abuse. She can be so biting and cruel.”

“What of your father?
Was he content to stand by and watch this debacle, without acting to stop it?”

“Not
content, but helpless. That’s the way things have always been in our family. There is nothing he could do to change her mind. Had he intervened, she simply would have turned on him too. Actually, she did anyway.”


Sophia, don’t you know that nothing she could have said would have mattered to me? The only thing I cared about was you.”

“Yes. You say that now,
Spence, but do you really think you would have married me if my mother and father had registered such harsh disapproval?”

“I
think it could have been sorted out. I have believed for some time that your mother needs someone strong to stand up to her. She has gone through life browbeating her children and husband into submission, and in general, acting like a tyrant. I think she has been crying out for someone to take a stance with her. Once that was done, I believe we actually might have come to an understanding. We might even have gotten along
quite nicely.”

“I si
mply couldn’t take that chance.”

“And so,
instead, you chose to lie to me, and marry a man you didn’t love.”

“Yes.”

Spence cleared his throat, and lighted a cigarette. There was silence for a moment. “Sophia, I’ve heard rumors about your marriage. I’ve tried not to listen, but I would really like to know. Did Owen commit suicide?


To be honest, Spence, yes, he did. He left a note with his Solicitor, which was solely meant for my eyes. Only my parents and family, and his parents know, besides me. Well, and Edwina. The last time Owen and I spoke, I thought everything was all right. I thought that we had come to an understanding about our marriage. It was going to be annulled.

“Annulled?
On what grounds?”

“I
’d learned some shocking truths. Owen was homosexual, Spence.”

“Oh, d
ear God! Poor Sophia. How astounding!”


Sometimes it’s difficult for me to believe that I ever married him.”

“I’
m surprised that under the circumstances you didn’t revert back to your maiden name?”

“I’
m sure I would have, but for Isabella.” I absolutely had not planned to tell him about my daughter. It just slipped out. But, perhaps the time for secrets was over. At least the time for
most
secrets. I still didn’t intend to tell him that he was Isabella’s father. Nevertheless, I certainly couldn’t hide my baby’s existence from Spence if, as I fervently hoped, he was about to become a part of my life again.

“And who is
Isabella?” he asked.


My daughter,” I replied.

“Your daughter?
You have a child? But, I had no idea. When was she born?”

“I
became pregnant shortly after Owen and I married in January, 1936. She was born on the 6
th
of September, 1936. In fact, she was born while I was visiting Edwina in Paris, shortly before we ran into you at
Deux Magots
. She was actually due in October, but she was premature. I had become so adept at lying about Isabella’s birth, that I, myself, almost believed that her birthday was in September instead of August.


My God. I’m speechless. So much has happened.” He sat back in his chair, and looked as though someone had just delivered a blow.


Spence. You look upset. Does it matter about Isabella? Does it cause you to feel differently about me?”

“No, of course not.
I’m just surprised. It’s none of my business, but did you plan a baby so quickly after your marriage?”

“No. In fact, Owen didn’t
want children so soon. Of course, now I understand why. I’m not certain he ever planned children. But, Isabella was conceived on our wedding night.”

“I see.” he replied.
It was clear that he didn’t like to think of me in someone else’s bed.

“Actually, it was the one and only ti
me,” I added.

“The one and
only time?” he echoed, looking perplexed.

“The one and only ti
me he touched me. I suppose he felt it was his duty on our wedding night, but it never happened again.”

“A
mazing. Moreover, as a result, you are a mother. I should like to meet your little girl. Let’s see, she would be about two years old now. Is that right?”


Well…one and a half…she’ll be two in September. She is a little darling. I absolutely worship her. “Spence, she is so advanced. She already has a vocabulary. She’s like a miniature adult.

“And how do you
manage to work at University and be a mother, as well?” he asked.

“I’ve
an indispensable woman who keeps things running smoothly at the flat. A housekeeper, who also acts as nanny. Isabella adores her, and so do I. Dr. Hausfater, the professor I work for, is terribly considerate about my obligations at home. He adores Isabella. I even bring her along to work with me some days, if she’s not feeling well... has the sniffles or something... or sometimes he tells me to work at home on that sort of day. I’m very fortunate.”

“Well, I’ll
certainly look forward to meeting this remarkable child,” he smiled. “I want her to become well-acquainted with me, as I hope you’re going to allow me back into your life, Sophia.”


Spence, I’m not sure that much has changed.”


Sophia, everything has changed. There will be no more lies. I’m assuming that the objections you voiced regarding Catholicism and Class were simply fabrications in order to avoid the truth. On the other hand, I could be wrong. Are those topics still a problem for you? ”

“No.
They truly aren’t, Spence. They never were. I still don’t know much about Catholicism, but I wouldn’t have any problem learning. But, now, I have Isabella to consider too.”

“Naturally
. And what of your parents?”

“I don’t know?
I’m independent of my parents now, in terms of finances, but I wouldn’t be totally honest if I didn’t admit that I’m still tied to them emotionally. For such a long, long time, I very nearly had no identity, Spence. My mother is
such
a dominating individual. I’ve spent my life trying to satisfy her. Even now that I’m a mother myself, I find myself reverting to that behavior. She can still frighten and intimidate me. Papa doesn’t frighten me so, but I crave his approval as badly. I don’t know why that is, because, frankly, I think of them both as children.”

“It’s going to take you a lifeti
me to overcome the damage they’ve both done, Sophia.

“I know that,
Spence.” But, in terms of a relationship with you, or
any
man for that matter, I believe my mother would be less inclined to voice objections toward whomever I might become involved with,” I smiled. “I think she now believes that I’m damaged, and that I’d be fortunate to have
any
man pay attention to me. Also I’ve made it perfectly clear that I intend upon earning a University degree. Mummy is concerned that I won‘t
ever
remarry. She thinks I’m bonkers to want an education... that I’m going to turn into a
blue-stocking
, and that no man will ever want me.”

Spence
burst out laughing. It was good to hear him laugh. “What rubbish. Well then, perhaps we won’t have to worry so much about
Mummy
, and her threats this time.”

“Oh
Spence. I bungled things so badly. Do you really think we might overcome all that’s happened?”

“I only know that I
meant it when I told you that I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I still feel that way. You have said that you feel the same way. Surely that means we mustn’t walk away from one another again, without trying very hard to find solutions to whatever obstacles exist. I
do
think we should act quietly on our feelings for a time. Only because we don’t need the aggravation of attempted interference from your mother. In addition, we need to go slowly with Isabella. She adds a new dimension to the whole scenario. I want her to learn to know . . . to trust . . . and to love me. That will take time.”

“T
hank you for being so understanding. I’m so happy that my heart literally feels as though it could burst. I never dreamed that today would turn out this way. I’ve almost forgotten what brought us here in the first place.”


Sophia, you’re still such a precious girl,” he smiled. He reached over and covered my hand with his. “Please remember that whatever is going on with your father and Edwina is going to have to resolve itself in its own way. You have to let them lead their own lives. I know it’s hard, and that it could irrevocably alter your relationship with both of them. There’s little you can do now but wait. At least you know more than you did. You can stay vigilant. Perhaps the opportunity to speak with Edwina will present itself. Maybe
she
will come to you. I truly believe, as close as the two of you have been, that if there’s anything to this, she
will
come to you and tell the truth.”

I believed
he was correct, and his words comforted me. It would have been exceptionally difficult to remain upset when the rest of my world was bathed in a radiant glow. The only discomfort I felt at that moment was a gnawing sensation somewhere in the pit of my stomach when I thought about Spence meeting Isabella, and the secret I still harbored.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
August 1938-
September 1939
The Truth Co
mes Out

The happenings of the ne
xt year diverted my attention from the shock concerning Papa’s possible involvement with Edwina. To begin with, Edwina’s own actions completely obliterated any lingering feelings of unrest and suspicion that I still had. In September, 1938, Edwina announced her intention to marry Dieter Schoen! I was aghast at the news, and it required a tremendous amount of effort to show even a minuscule amount of joy at my dear friend’s engagement. There’d been no mention of Dieter since the deplorable incident at
Willow Grove,
but for the brief conversation I’d had with my father. I assumed that Edwina had severed all ties with Dieter. Certainly all
romantic
ties. I couldn’t fathom Edwina becoming Dieter’s wife. Even if I had not witnessed his abhorrent behavior at Isabella’s birthday party, I would still have found it difficult to profess true happiness at the prospect of Edwina spending her life as ‘Frau Schoen’.

Edwina
made the announcement via long distance telephone, probably because she knew that my reaction would not be overwhelmingly positive. In one respect, however, the news came as something of a relief. I certainly felt that it leant more credence to my father’s explanation of the deplorable letter salutation I’d discovered. It seemed unlikely that Edwina would commit to marrying a man who had been seen behaving in such a rude fashion, unless she truly loved him. Certainly she would not have done so if there were any sort of love affair taking place. However, I was still intensely dismayed.

Senti
ments in England were becoming ever more negative toward Germans. Dieter had done nothing to endear himself to my family or friends. I found his political views repugnant, and could not fathom Edwina feeling any differently. No argument, however, seemed to phase my friend. Her mind was made up. I correctly sensed that too much negativity would only serve to damage our friendship irrevocably. Edwina maintained that a fellow traveler had treated Dieter shabbily on their trip from Paris to England for Isabella’s party. This then had caused him to feel resentful and ill at ease upon arrival at
Willow Grove Abbey
. However much Edwina protested, I found it hard to view him in a favorable light. Although I made every attempt not to be critical, and to give the impression that I was happy for her, I simply could not bring myself to attend the wedding, scheduled for May, 1939 in Paris. They planned a small affair with little elaboration. There was not even to be a church ceremony, which surprised me greatly, as I’d always assumed Edwina would want an enormous amount of glitter and splendor. I
did
know that Edwina’s father was not well, and it was possible that the stress of an elaborate event would be too physically demanding. I also believed that Edwina was sensitive to the prevailing anti-German feelings in Great Britain. Perhaps she felt it would be uncomfortable for those in Bury St. Edmunds if she brought Dieter Schoen to the local parish church for the nuptials.

Before
I could turn my attention to Edwina and her upcoming marriage, I encountered more trauma in my relationship with Spence. Following our meeting in August, our bond continued to develop. We didn’t rush headlong into a torrid love affair, as we were both wary of being too impetuous. When the time was right, we knew it would be a lifelong commitment. The second time around we would allow nothing and no one to come between us. Because we felt so fortunate to have another chance, we wanted to savor every moment. And then, there was the very real consideration of Isabella. I had no intention of introducing a strange man into her life one moment, and making him her father the next. Isabella was not used to sharing her Mummy with anyone, and I knew that I needed to ease her into the idea of having another person in her life.

As a result,
I didn’t immediately introduce my little girl to Spence. I took her to
Willow Grove
for the Christmas holidays, and he and I had a quiet celebration later. When I finally felt the time was right for an introduction, it was early April of 1939, eight months after our reconciliation. Spence had been gently pressuring me for months. Though the event was well planned, I was still somewhat nervous, as it was the first time that I’d introduced a man to my daughter. Spence came to the flat at six o’clock on a Saturday evening. Martha prepared a simple dinner of roast beef, browned potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and green beans... Isabella’s favorite. When Spence arrived, he was carrying a large box, clearly meant as a gift for Isabella. She was still in her nursery, being dressed by Martha, and it was a few moments before she made her appearance in the parlor. She emerged, wearing a white plisse’ dress, trimmed with green ribbon. There was a green bow in her hair and her long, black curls were brushed back from her face. She was such a beautiful child that sometimes she literally took my breath away. It was apparent that Spence was instantly smitten.

“Well, well, s
o you are Isabella. What a lovely young lady you are,” he said.

She s
miled shyly, and then spied the box sitting next to him on the sofa. “Ith that for Bella?” she asked. She had quite a pronounced lisp, which the doctors told me she would outgrow. I thought it added to her charm, and wasn’t the least concerned about it.

“Yes,
yes, it is. Would you like to open it?”

“Oh yeth
.” She clapped her hands in delight, and looked at me for permission.

“Yes of course, darling.
Let Doctor Stanton help you with the wrapping.”

Spence
began removing the wrapping paper and ribbon, and Isabella helped
.
Together they lifted the lid off the box, and there lay a magnificent doll, made in the likeness of the Princess Elizabeth. She wore a white satin dress, and on her head was a tiny tiara of rhinestones. Isabella was enchanted.

“Oh.
Oh... Mummy, look!”

“Would you like to hold her?”
Spence asked, placing the doll in Isabella’s arms.

“Do be careful of her darling,”
I reminded. “And do thank Doctor Stanton for such a lovely gift.”

“Thank you” she said, shyly.

“You’re very welcome. When I saw her in the shop window, I knew she needed a little girl just like you to take care of her.”

“S
he’s booful,” said Isabella.

“So are you,”
Spence answered, smiling at her mispronunciation.

Isabella
settled down in a corner of the room and began to play with the doll, exploring her clothing and hair. Spence and I enjoyed a cocktail before dinner, and watched my precious daughter. It was a delightful evening, and I couldn’t help but think that this was what life would be like when we married. Martha called us to the dining room, and Isabella made certain that her dolly came with us. We made a great fuss about placing
Elizabeth
in the place of honor. The conversation was dominated by talk of the games Isabella liked to play, and she chattered on about kings and queens. Spence seemed very impressed, and he alternated between utter fascination with her, and speechlessness. He gave her his undivided attention and I was glad. After the meal, we returned to the parlor and relaxed with an after dinner liqueur, while Isabella continued to arrange
Elizabeth’s
hair.

“How thoughtful of you to have brought her the doll. She lo
ves it. What a perfect gift,” I commented.

“I’
m glad she likes it,” he answered, taking a sip of his drink. “She really is a little beauty, Sophia. Where did she get those eyes? They’re an unusual shade of blue?”

I
felt uneasy. Isabella’s eyes
were
a gorgeous sapphire blue. I knew that Spence had been told all of his life how unusual the color of his eyes was. My own eyes were a green. “Were Owen’s eye’s blue?” he asked.” I met him at your Ball, but don’t remember much about him.”

I
suppose I could have lied, but knowing that he had met Owen, I wanted to be as truthful as I possibly could be. “Yes, but rather lighter than hers... Somewhat ‘washed out’. I haven’t figured from whom Isabella inherited hers... Possibly Mummy, although hers are more ice blue. Probably a Winnsborough. I’ve never really known many of them.”

“Does she see the
m often?”


Not frequently. They travel a great deal. I try to make certain they see her at special times, such as holidays. Nannies’ primarily raised Owen. He was at boarding school early. Therefore, they’re not accustomed to lavishing attention on children or grandchildren. No matter. I think it causes less confusion for Isabella”

“She has an engaging way about her.
She reminds me of someone.”


Isabella reminds you of someone? Who on Earth would she remind you of?” I asked.

Spence
didn’t answer right away. He took another sip of his drink, and it seemed as though he was taking some time to decide upon how to proceed or what to say next. The silence lengthened, and it began to make me anxious.


Spence is something the matter?” I finally asked, breaking the stillness.

“I t
hink perhaps you should ask Martha to take Isabella to her room,” he responded.

“Why? W
hatever is wrong?” My throat felt dry.

“Please just do as I ask,
Sophia. I’ll explain as soon as we’re alone.” Reluctantly, I complied, and instructed Martha to take Isabella to the nursery to prepare for bedtime. My little girl took her new dolly and, grasping Martha’s hand, toddled down the corridor to her bedchamber.

I
turned to Spence with a puzzled expression. “What is this about?” I asked.

“It’s about the f
act that Isabella is
my
child.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, Sophia, and there’s no point in pretending or lying to me. She is my child. My daughter!

I
felt panicky, but tried to maintain a semblance of control. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because she’s
a replica of my mother when she was a child, right down to the tiny birthmark on her arm, the cleft in her chin, and the color of her eyes. I have portraits of my mother at Isabella’s age. You would think it was the same person. I’ve watched her throughout dinner... her mannerisms... the expression in her eyes... even the slight tilt of one eyebrow.”


Spence, this is your imagination.”

“Stop it,
Sophia! This is
not
my imagination. Isabella is my child. You must have become pregnant that weekend in Twigbury. The timing would fit perfectly. I don’t believe she was born in September. Nine months would put it at August. Edwina must have been in on the entire scheme. She must have helped you. This is beyond comprehension, Sophia. How could you have lied to me this way, and kept me from my own child?”

There was
no point in continuing the artifice. I was sick inside, and all of a sudden, there seemed no logical explanation for why I had ever attempted such a ploy. “Spence, how can I make you understand?” I began.

“You can’t.
Not in a thousand years. I loved you Sophia. I wanted to marry you. You knew that. I even believed it when you told me that you ended our relationship because you were afraid of what your mother might do to me, and to my reputation. When you learned that you were expecting my child, how could you not have come to me? Was I not good enough to be Isabella’s father? Did Lord Winnsborough seem a better choice, with his lineage and title?”

“Oh
Spence, no. It was nothing like that. My parents would have sent me away. They would never have allowed a marriage. I would have had to adopt out Isabella.”


Over my dead body! Rubbish. I am bloody sick and tired of you using your parents as an excuse for your own weakness. Nothing on earth would have kept me from marrying you, and giving our daughter her rightful name. Nothing! Certainly not your foolish, fatuous mother nor your spineless father. This is complete poppycock, and I will not sit here and listen to such gibberish. You lied, Sophia. You schemed and robbed me of something precious.”

“I didn’t feel I had an alternative.”

“Then you were a bloody, little fool!” He slammed his glass down so hard on the tea table that it broke, and I was surprised that it didn’t cut his hand. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a towel. While sopping up the mess on the table, I continued pleading with him. “Spence, please, please listen to me.”

“No
Sophia. You have had more than one opportunity to tell the truth, but you didn’t intend to ever do so. Even as recently as last August, when we were promising one another that there’d be no more secrets or lies, you were prepared to continue this deception.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”


You didn’t know how to tell me
? I cannot imagine such a rotten, vile, cursed thing. You are not the woman I fell in love with. You’re a silly little piece of fluff, and I’ll never forgive what you have done.”

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