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Authors: Mary Christian Payne

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

Willow Grove Abbey (13 page)

BOOK: Willow Grove Abbey
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C
HAPTER SEVEN
21
January 1936
A Wedding

In the blink of an eye, I found myself engaged on the night of the St. James Palace Christmas Ball. Even I hadn’t dreamed of such good fortune. But, after our planned evening at the theater, followed by dining at The
Picardy Lane Hotel’s
opulent restaurant, I saw Owen every night thereafter. I made a visit to
Willow Grove Abbey
, because there was the necessity of telling my parents that if Owen asked my hand in marriage, I fully intended to accept his proposal. I made it clear to my parents that I was only considering such action because of their stated wishes, and that under no circumstances was I in love with him. Furthermore, I let them know that I did not want a long engagement, and wished to marry as soon as possible... that I did not want a lot of formality and fuss. They were so thrilled that I had finally ‘come to my senses’ that they argued little with anything else I had to say. Owen showed up for a chat with my parents, while I was there. He spoke to my father, and of course was granted permission to seek my hand. Then, the actual night of the Ball, he presented me with a large, quite ostentatious, diamond ring. It was not at all what I might have selected, but it really didn’t matter. Diamonds were supposed to show that
one’s intended was of an economic class that could afford such a divine luxury. Thus, Owen had complied with societal expectations.

He never did tell
me that he loved me, nor did he kiss me. It was all rather business-like. He explained that because we had known one another such a long time, and that our families were so well acquainted, he felt that we were extremely well-suited to one another, and that I would make a splendid mistress of
Winnsborough Hall
. He felt that I had all of the poise and dignity that such a position required, and that he would be proud for me to be the Duchess of Winnsborough. I suppose there were many girls my age who would have been bonkers over such a request, but I wasn’t one of them. I’d known love with Spence, and there was no way that marriage to Owen could begin to match feelings I still harbored for my lost love. After the initial niceties were behind, his parents and mine took over from there. The only other item that we really had much say in was the actual date of the marriage. Owen and I agreed that a long engagement would be trying for everyone... Owen, me, both of our families and all of our friends. There just seemed no sense in such a waste of time. Needless to say, the sooner the wedding took place, the better for me. We had already known one another for some eighteen years. So, there was agreement that we would choose a forthcoming date in 1936. I suggested January 21, which sent his mother and mine into a tizzy. It was pointed out that such a hurried date provided barely enough time to accomplish the assembling of a trousseau, making plans for a wedding trip, choosing decorations, sending invitations and selecting a menu for the wedding supper. In addition, Owen’s family planned a pre-nuptial dinner on the evening preceding the wedding itself. However, I stood my ground. I reiterated over and over that I did not want a lot of fancy and fuss. After much arguing back and forth, everyone agreed that I had a right to pick my wedding date, and so it was agreed upon. It was a Tuesday, which was not unusual at that time. Particularly for a smaller wedding. We set the time as two o’clock in the afternoon, with the reception following at
Willow Grove Abbey
one half hour later. Since the wedding was to be held in the chapel at our home, there was little need for consideration of the distance one needed to travel between wedding ceremony and reception. Drew agreed to conduct the ceremony, which added a personal touch.

On
20 January, 1936, we all gathered at
Winnsborough Hall
for the pre-nuptial dinner, hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Winnsborough. In retrospect, it set the tone for everything that followed. Just as we were about to be seated for dinner, the butler interrupted with the announcement that a telegram had been delivered. The Duke, looking a bit irritated, accepted the yellow envelope and tore it open. After scanning the contents, he cleared his throat and asked for everyone’s attention.

“I have just received word that our beloved King George the Fifth has passed away,” he declared. There was co
mplete silence in the room as everyone absorbed the news. No one was especially surprised, as the King had been ill for quite some time. He had not been a young man. Nevertheless, as is always the case when a Monarch dies, the gathering that evening was galvanized into mourning. The ritual, pomp, and ceremony that is such an integral part of British life would follow. The families present that evening were personally acquainted with the King, so all of us were even more sincerely distressed. My parents
had
last seen him at his Silver Jubilee Celebration in 1935, which had marked his twenty-five-year reign. The Jubilee had marked the calendar that year, and a service was held at St. Paul’s Cathedral on May Sixth, followed by a private reception given by the Prince of Wales. It was near in time to my Presentation. My family had been guests, although I hadn’t attended a I was just finishing up at
Ashwick Park.
It was incredible to think that the Prince would be...
was
... the King. He would be known as Edward the Eighth, and his reign promised a breath of fresh air to a generation which thought there needed to be some loosening of social restrictions. Nevertheless, it was with heavy hearts that those of us who were gathered for the pre-nuptial dinner received the news of King George’s passing. We were keenly aware that it was a momentous, historic occasion. Certainly, it put a damper upon the wedding festivities. Everyone drank a toast to the deceased King, and then another to the new King Edward. With that, the evening progressed in an orderly, if somewhat subdued, fashion. That was the prelude to the big event.

Edwina had co
me from Paris and I was grateful, as I could be honest with her. We spent my last night as a single girl in my bedchamber at
Willow Grove Abbey,
chattering into the wee hours, as we had done so many times before at
Ashwick Park.
“Sophia, it’s amazing that everything you predicted in early December has actually happened. And in such a short time,” Edwina said, as she slipped into the twin bed opposite mine. ‘I’m happy, in a way, because I know that it solves so many problems, but it truly makes me ill to think of you married to Owen.”

“I’
m in a bit of shock myself. Can you believe that he asked me to marry him the night of the Christmas Ball? Even I hadn’t counted on such luck. It wasn’t even difficult to convince him to marry so quickly. He really wasn’t interested in a large, ostentatious wedding at Westminster, or wherever, and he certainly didn’t wish for a prolonged engagement. I’m doing the right thing, Edwina. I know it’s not what I dreamed. However, it will work out all right. My baby will have a name. Owen will be kind to me. Moreover, if he is not the
Grande Passion
you envisioned for me, please find comfort in the fact that I
did
have a wonderful love story
.
You and I have always known that our futures would carry us along different paths. Of course I wish circumstances were different, but what’s done, is done.”

“I just wish that if you couldn’t have
married the man you loved, you might have been able to wait a bit. You seem so young to be burying yourself in the country with Owen Winnsborough. I should go totally mad if that’s all I had ahead of me. ”

“What might
I have done? Even if the baby hadn’t been a consideration, I wouldn’t have wanted to return to
Willow Grove Abbey
, living unmarried, embroidering linens, and waiting for a
suitable
man. Do you remember teasing me about living my life as a
Jane Austen
heroine? Anyway, Owen and I have the flat on Sumner Street in London, so when I feel the need to escape, I shall always have a place to go. Moreover, don’t forget, I
do
have something marvelous to look forward to.... The birth of Spence’s child.”


I know, I know. I look forward to that as well. But... but... You write so well, Sophia. I always believed that you might do more with
that
, beyond simply scribbling in your journal.”

“Perhaps I shall, so
meday. But, I can be married and write as well.” I scrunched my feather pillow into a ball, and settled my head upon it.”

“I re
member you saying that when we first met at school.”

“Yes, I re
member that too,” I answered, wistfully. It all seemed such a dreadfully long time ago, although in reality it was less than two years. I had only just turned nineteen on the fourteenth of January.

“It’s hard for
me to think of you as Lady Sophia
Winnsborough
, Edwina continued. “At least, it’s a rather nice sounding name.”

“It’s hard for
me
to think of
myself
as a Winnsborough. I guess I’ll become accustomed to it.”

“Will we still be close friends, do you think
Sophia? Our lives will be so vastly different. Goodness! You will be a Duchess!

No…
Not immediately I won’t. Not until the Duke and Duchess, Owen’s parents, are deceased. I hope that isn’t for a long while. They are very dear people. Until then, I’ll be a Marchioness. I won’t make you use my title though,” I teased. “I’ll still be referred to as ‘Lady, and you’ve never called me that, Don’t you ever dare,” I laughed.... only my last name will be different. Anyway, as to your question about our friendship. It’s totally daft. You know that we shall
always
be the dearest of friends. You’re like my sister. I cannot imagine what I would do without you. You silly girl. We had this conversation once before too, on our last day together at
Ashwick Park.
That time you reminded me that we would be seeing one another in Paris before very long. That never came to pass, but this time we’re saying it again. Paris. Midsummer.” I was referring to our plans for a summer holiday
visit, which would coincide with the birth of the baby. I’d already broached the idea of a visit to Paris to see Edwina for a girl’s only rendezvous, and Owen had not voiced any objections.

“We have to vow
to never allow
anything
to interfere with our friendship,” Edwina reiterated.


Nothing will ever interfere with our friendship,” I stated unequivocally.

“Isn’t it a
mazing to think that the Prince is now the King?” Edwina mused, changing the topic. I knew that she was trying to search for something less anxiety-ridden.

“Yes.
You know, I worry for him. He doesn’t appear to be happy. I’m not certain he wants all of the responsibility that goes with being the monarch. Have you heard any more rumors of L’Affaire Mrs. Simpson
?”

“Oh,
my Gosh, yes. Paris is fairly buzzing with that topic. I’m amazed at how ill-informed Londoners seem to be.”

“I believe you know
more about it than we in England do. It’s because
Fleet Street
is keeping a lid on the whole affair.” The English newspapers had been maintaining a virtual blackout on news of the new King’s relationship with Wallis Simpson, the twice married American whom everyone assumed he was having an affair with. I suspected that was why he seemed so blue. “What of her husband?” I asked.

“The
most recent jest I’ve heard is that ‘Ernest Simpson is only too happy to
lay down his wife
for England’.”

“Edwina! How dreadful! Can he really be such a
ninny
? I can’t imagine.”

It takes all sorts, I suppose. Apparently, in the beginning,
Mr. Simpson was included in the house-party weekends and nightclub gaiety, but recently he isn’t even seen very frequently. She appears with the Prince... sorry... the King, alone.”

“Well, certainly, nothing can co
me of it” I daresay. He surely could never marry her, even if she were to divorce. It would never be allowed.”

“Right you are there,” Edwina responded. “It’s a bit sad, actually. I
mean, if he truly loves her.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” There was a woeful tone to
my response.

“Oh
Sophia, how stupid of me! I
am
dreadfully sorry to be so insensitive. What was I thinking?”

“It’s all right, Edwina. You cannot go through your life watching everything you say, for fear you’ll wound
me. Please understand that
I
made the decision not to tell Spence about the baby, and not to marry him. I still believe it was the correct decision. The only
one I could have made. Yes, it’s sad that things couldn’t have been different, but I’m glad
that I shall have his child. I won’t ever be totally without him, don’t you see?”

Edwina crawled out o
f her bed and moved over to mine. She hugged me until my ribs hurt. “Oh Sophia! I am so amazed at your strength. It
will
work out. I’ll be there to help. You’ll have a lovely baby and all of this will have been worth it.”

BOOK: Willow Grove Abbey
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