The Land of Summer (11 page)

There were no more than half a dozen witnesses in the congregation, the only faces familiar to Emmaline being those of their housekeeper and Mrs Shannon, the kindly landlady from her lodging house. No arrangements for the wedding had been discussed by Julius with his bride-to-be, his only announcement being the date, upon which it seemed he had decided without consultation. As soon as Emmaline touched on the matter of guests, hoping for at least a small celebration afterwards, Julius had made his excuses and left the room. Emmaline was not even invited to choose her own wedding gown. Instead, once the date had been fixed, Agnes had simply arrived in Emmaline’s lodgings with a large cardboard box containing a bridal dress which was pretty enough, but since the box bore no sign of a shop name, both Emmaline and Agnes suspected was not new.

‘Do you think as I do, Agnes, that this gown has belonged to someone else?’

Agnes had turned away, looking embarrassed.
‘I
dunno, Miss Emmaline. I was just told by Mrs Graham to come round to your lodgings and bring this with me, that’s all I know.’

‘I think I will have to speak to Mr Aubrey in person about this,’ Emmaline told her. ‘I am not going to wear a dress of his choosing, and he must know that. He
will
know that.’

Emmaline confronted Julius that evening when he called round to her lodgings, determined that if she were asked to wear a second-hand dress there would not only be no wearing of the dress, there would be no wedding.

Julius shook his head, turning away. ‘I just thought – I just thought …’

‘No, Julius, this is not something with which you should concern yourself, just as you told me that I should not concern myself with your work. You may not know it, but I do know it. It is the custom for a bride …’ She took a deep breath and began again. ‘It is the custom not only for the bride to choose her own wedding gown, but also for the bridegroom not to see it until their wedding day.’

‘How quaint,’ Julius returned. ‘Almost medieval, I would say.’

‘You must be aware of such traditions, even you,’ Emmaline had replied, doing her best to control her temper. ‘And it is not
medieval
, as you call it. It is the way with weddings and wedding days, that most special of days for a young woman, the only day when she can guarantee that all eyes will be on her.’

‘Perhaps so, Miss Nesbitt—’

‘And
please
do not start your mock formality again, Julius. I really would rather not get married not only in a dress of someone else’s choosing, but in a dress in which someone else has perhaps already been married.’

‘Do you not like the dress, I wonder?’

‘Now who is sounding quaint,
I wonder
? It is neither here nor there whether or not I like the dress. I wish to get married in a dress that I have chosen myself.’

‘And that I have not seen?’ Julius had looked at her, frowning. ‘I must apologise. I see there are things which are definitely not the subject for men.’

‘I shall see what can be done at such short notice. Mrs Shannon has already indicated that she will help me. Might we now discuss the day itself – and perhaps whom we may invite?’

‘There is nothing to discuss,’ Julius had replied, turning hurriedly to the door. ‘As far as I am concerned, the ceremony is a pure necessity to legalise our union. It is not a reason for an inordinate amount of money to be frittered away on a lot of people one hardly knows, if at all, most of whom one will never see again.’

‘It will not be your money being frittered away, as you so cruelly call it, Julius,’ Emmaline had argued, following Julius out into the hallway. ‘If you recall, it is the obligation of the bride’s parents to pay for the wedding, so perhaps you, or indeed we, ought to take that into some account.’

‘I have done so, Miss Nesbitt,’ Julius told her in a low voice, collecting his hat and coat. ‘Your father and I have corresponded on this matter, and since he will not be travelling over for your wedding he is only too happy to leave all the arrangements to me, and even happier to learn that it is to cost him nothing. Now, if you will perhaps excuse me?’

‘My father gave me money before I left America, and with some of it I shall at least purchase my own dress.’

The following day, with Mrs Shannon and Agnes accompanying her, Emmaline found a beautiful cream dress and a Brussels lace veil which entirely filled the ideal of what a wedding dress should be, and in the opinion of her companions Emmaline also filled the ideal of what a bride should look like on her wedding day, slim, beautiful, and for that moment at least, standing in the shop in front of the dressing mirror with all eyes on her, happy.

After the wedding service had been concluded, their carriage took the bride and groom back to Park House where they were received by Wilkinson and Mrs Graham, who had hurried back from the church ahead of the others. The rest of the staff lined up in the hallway to applaud the couple as they entered the house, earning themselves a grateful smile from Emmaline, although her bridegroom looked as if he found it faintly absurd to be greeted by his own servants.

In the drawing room an open bottle of
champagne
on ice awaited them. Julius poured himself a glass, having dismissed not only his best man but also for some reason the attendant Wilkinson with a vague wave of one hand, and held the bottle up significantly in Emmaline’s direction to see if she might like a glass as well.

‘Thank you, Julius,’ Emmaline replied, dismally surveying the large empty room. She had nursed a secret hope that, even though the church ceremony had been attended by so few, her new husband might have arranged a surprise reception back at Park House to celebrate their union.

‘So,’ Julius said, as was his wont, having handed his new wife her drink.

‘So?’ Emmaline wondered. ‘So this is all we must expect by way of a celebration, is it, Julius?’

‘This is your home, Emma.’ Julius stared back at her with what seemed to be genuine bewilderment. ‘This is where we are to live, together. Did you expect more?’

‘I am very much afraid I did expect more, Mr Aubrey,’ Emmaline responded as calmly as she could. ‘This is all there is? For our wedding celebration?’ She looked round the drawing room empty of anyone but themselves.

‘So it would seem, Emma, but you must be happy now that you are married, surely? Are you not happy?’ Julius replied, as if still puzzling out a riddle. ‘You are married. You were able to purchase your wedding dress. What else should there be?’

‘What else should there be? A reception, at the very least. Something, Julius, more than just a handful of people in a church. Are you not even going to kiss the bride?’ She looked challengingly at him, but did not move any closer.

‘Very well, Emma, yes, of course I will kiss the bride.’

He leaned forward and kissed her briefly on the lips, but before Emmaline could respond he quickly turned away.

‘May we not embrace a little longer?’ she asked him in a low voice.

‘Most certainly not. It would not do at all. One of the servants might come in, and it would be a very bad example. Your good health.’ He raised his glass and emptied it quickly, before moving back towards the champagne in its wine cooler.

‘Julius?’

Surprised by the tone of her voice, Julius turned.

‘Oh, Julius!’ Emmaline threw aside the small bridal bouquet she was holding and hurried over to the French doors so that Julius could not see her expression.

‘Not there, Emma, if you don’t mind,’ she heard him complain from behind her. ‘Not on that chair. If there is any water in those flowers—’

‘Oh,
Julius
,’ Emmaline sighed hopelessly.

‘If there is the slightest bit of water it will mark the silk.’

‘Julius.’ Emmaline turned back to him as he crouched over his precious chair to check for any
possible
damage. ‘Julius – are we not even going to go away somewhere?’

Julius stood back up to look at her, clutching the bridal flowers and looking more than faintly absurd.

‘Go away somewhere?’ he echoed. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t believe you can be so ignorant of wedding arrangements,’ Emmaline said. ‘I just do not believe any of this, I really do not.’

‘And I fail to understand your distress,’ Julius replied, belatedly pouring himself a second glass of champagne. ‘If your desire was to
go away somewhere
, Mrs Aubrey—’

‘I see,’ Emmaline interrupted. ‘It’s to be Mrs Aubrey now, is it?’

‘That is what you have become, is it not?’

‘That does not mean you have to call me by that name, Julius. Unless you deliberately wish to be hurtful?’

‘No, no, of course not.’ Julius looked genuinely appalled. ‘I would not hurt you for the world, but I am not versed in these matters. If you wished to go away you should really have mentioned it before, and then I could have arranged something to your liking.’

‘And what chance did I have? Every time I wished to discuss the arrangements for our marriage, you found an excuse to leave the room.’

‘I am a very busy man, Mrs Aubrey. There is much to which I have to attend at my works, the company is in need of fresh direction—’

‘Stop it, Julius. I mean it. Please stop it.’

‘Stop what, please?’

‘Please stop calling me Mrs Aubrey. I am your wife now. And my name is Emmaline, or Emma, as you seem to prefer it.’

‘Very well, Emma,’ Julius nodded. ‘But, to return to our subject, as for this business of going away – by that am I to take it you wish for a … a honeymoon?’

The way he pronounced the word
honeymoon
and the expression on his face suggested to Emmaline that Julius found something appalling either about the word or perhaps even in the notion. She thought carefully before continuing, finally concluding that perhaps Julius was nothing more than shy, possibly even shyer than she was herself, and that all his odd behaviour, such as his disappearances, the verbal dismissals, his calling her formal names and his constant state of apparent bewilderment, could be put down to diffidence. Having decided that such a thing was entirely possible, Emmaline determined to try quite a different approach.

‘It’s all right, Julius,’ she said with a smile, even though she did not feel in the least like smiling. ‘I think – I think this reaction of mine is possibly due to nerves. After all, it isn’t every day a young woman gets married – and the last thing, the very last thing, I would want is to upset you on this matter, which after all is your wedding as well as mine. I was just being thoughtless. Selfish, in fact, so please forgive me.’

Julius frowned again, giving Emmaline a fleeting impression that she might have been speaking to him in a foreign language, and nodded.

‘I was going to say that if you wanted—’ he began, but Emmaline stopped him, managing to get closer to him now and looking up at him.

‘It really doesn’t matter, Julius,’ she said quietly. ‘I am perfectly content. Really I am. And you are right – it isn’t the ceremony that matters, it is what happens between us now, in our lives, in the rest of our lives. That is what Mr Welton was saying in his address.’

‘I’m sure,’ Julius agreed, unable to look her in the eyes. ‘I just wish he wasn’t quite so prolix.’

‘Prolix?’

‘Long-winded.’ Julius quickly moved away from Emmaline and poured himself more champagne. Once more he held up the bottle in offer to Emmaline but this time she shook her head, putting her hand over her glass. She could already feel the wine going to her head and the last thing she wished for now was to get intoxicated. ‘So,’ Julius said once more, after sipping his drink. ‘Time for lunch, I would say.’

‘I would prefer it if I could change before we sat down to lunch, Julius.’

‘Yes.’ Julius stared past her, frowning as he gave the matter his consideration. ‘The trouble is I doubt if Cook will have taken that into account, Emmaline. This is the way it is with servants, do you see? One always has to take them into
consideration
. You see? Even as we speak,’ he held out a hand in illustration, ‘there is the gong.’

So it was that on her wedding day Emmaline sat down to lunch with just Julius for company, both of them in their bridal attire; had there been others present it would not have seemed the slightest bit unusual, but since they were entirely alone except for their servants Emmaline felt as though she were playing a part in some drama which she had just finished rehearsing, and was now taking refreshment in full costume.

Glancing down the table at her new husband as he ate and drank she could sense that he too felt discomforted, and at a loss as to what to say. To break the silence Emmaline was just about to ask what they should do that afternoon when she realised it might sound a little forward, although she was not quite sure why. Certainly she felt embarrassed for her near lack of tact, sensing that whatever was to happen next had to be instigated by the man to whom she had just been joined in holy matrimony, the tall, handsome, elegant gentleman sitting opposite her.

What happened next was that Emmaline left Julius at the dining table to enjoy a glass of port and a smoke, and when she came back downstairs he was nowhere to be seen.

‘Mr Aubrey has taken himself off for a constitutional, madam,’ Wilkinson informed her when she enquired as to her husband’s whereabouts. ‘Will there be anything else now?’

‘Yes,’ Emmaline replied, feeling herself colour.
‘Please
send Agnes to me. I wish to change my clothes.’

It was far too early to dress for dinner so Agnes put out an afternoon dress, and they both began to reset her hair, Emmaline instructing Agnes as they went along.

‘If you don’t mind me saying, madam,’ Agnes said as she carefully began to brush out her mistress’s long tresses, ‘
we
all thought you looked absolutely beautiful in your wedding gown. I never seen no one look so lovely.’

‘I’m quite sure you have, Agnes,’ Emmaline said, smiling at the serious-faced young girl in her looking glass. ‘The dress was certainly pretty.’

‘Yes, your dress was lovely, madam,’ Agnes agreed. ‘But I thought you yourself looked really beautiful. Like something – like something from a fairy story.’