“Was she in love with him, do you think? Or is she merely suffering from injured pride?”
“I think perhaps she believes it was love. Of course, Randall was considered quite the catch.”
“That’s what I don’t understand,” Mary Ellen contemplated as she looked across the table, studying William’s face. His features were somehow more masculine than Randall’s. She guessed he’d recently visited the barber, for his light brown hair no longer touched his shirt’s collar. Unlike Randall, who wore his hair slicked back, William’s hair parted naturally on one side, and he did nothing to change the course of his part.
She decided his best feature was undoubtedly his expressive blue eyes. Her husband’s dark brown eyes were somehow ominous, making her fearful when she looked into them. William’s gaze gave her comfort, hope—inspired her to look deeper.
“You don’t understand why he was considered a catch?” William frowned.
“Oh no,” Mary Ellen laughed. “Actually I was thinking of you. I’m surprised someone like you is spending his evenings—Saturday afternoons—looking after your friend’s wife when I would imagine there are lovely young ladies—and their parents—who find you quite the catch.”
In the next moment, the server brought their food. The timely interruption diverted the flow of the conversation, allowing William to avoid commenting on Mary Ellen’s personal observation. For the remainder of the meal they discussed the food and the afternoon’s matinée.
Mary Ellen silently asked herself why she was always so open with William—telling him things a woman should never tell a man who wasn’t her husband.
Across the table, William told himself, I will be a better friend to Randall. He silently vowed to stop asking Mary Ellen such intimate questions.
Chapter Twelve
“Randall, you need to consider coming home. It isn’t right leaving your new bride so soon. I can finish up for you in Chicago.” It was Sunday morning, and William was just finishing his first cup of coffee when his business partner called him on the telephone.
“Has something happened?”
“We ran into Clare.”
“Did the girl cause a scene?”
“You mean Clare?”
“Well, I don’t mean Mary Ellen.”
“No, she didn’t. Although, Mary Ellen picked up on the fact you once dated her. She actually felt sorry for Clare.”
Randall’s first response was a short laugh. “So what’s the problem, William? I still don’t understand. Are you tired of looking after her, is that it?”
Randall was so off the mark William wanted to howl. No, you fool, you have no idea what I want to do with your wife.
“She needs to get out of that house more—interact with people,” he finally said. “Frankly, I’m surprised no one has extended an invitation to her—for tea or lunch, something. I would have thought one of the ladies from the neighborhood would have dropped by.”
“I’m sure they have. I gave Mrs. Parker expressed instructions to tell anyone that calls that my wife is currently not receiving. When I return we’ll have a reception and she can meet people then.”
“Why didn’t you do that before your trip to Chicago?”
“Must I remind you how important this merger is? Especially if the war is coming to an end, as some speculate. There was no time.”
“But why have you instructed Mrs. Parker to send callers away? Isn’t that going to make your wife appear unfriendly?”
“Considering my dear wife is with child, I’m sure the ladies will understand why she chose to remain in seclusion at this time.”
“I seriously doubt that, considering I’ve been seen escorting her about town. And I’m certain your household staff hasn’t kept the fact I continue to dine each night with your wife during your absence a secret.”
“And why should they, William? The fact is, I don’t want my wife unduly influenced by the ladies of our neighborhood. When she goes out into society, it will be with me at her side. For now, she can enjoy the theatre with you, and dinner out or a drive. I’ve always enjoyed your company, and I’m sure she will too. I’m not worried about your influence on my bride—but I’m not so sure about some of those women.”
“I don’t know about that,” William snapped.
“I’ve got to go now. I plan to be home in about two and a half weeks. Obviously, I can’t force you to keep my wife amused. If you no longer want to spend time with her, don’t. Just let me know and I’ll have Mrs. Parker keep a closer eye on the girl. I want to make sure she is taking proper care of herself, the baby and all.”
“No Randall, it’s fine. I’ll keep an eye on her.” When William hung up the telephone’s receiver, he sat quietly for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. After taking a deep breath, he stood up and walked from his parlor down the hall way to his personal library.
• • • •
That evening, to Mary Ellen’s delight, William brought her the first six books from Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan series. Over dinner, they chatted about literature, and not once did either party mention Randall or the state of Mary Ellen’s marriage.
Her period ended the day after the matinée and she no longer felt the need to guard the privacy of her bedchamber so fiercely. Since none of the household staff knew the real reason for Mary Ellen’s demand for privacy, they continued to honor her decree.
While she was no longer concerned with Randall returning home and resuming his nightly visits, since she’d made up her mind to ask to have the marriage terminated, she decided the most prudent option was to wait until he came home, and give him the news in person.
It was mid-July and the days grew warmer. Each morning Mary Ellen enjoyed a light breakfast on the back patio, followed by a brisk walk around the grounds. She spent her afternoons in the estate’s garden. Mrs. Parker instructed a groundskeeper to hang a hammock under one of the larger shade trees, which became Mary Ellen’s favorite reading spot.
Each afternoon Lily brought Mary Ellen lunch in the garden. After the first time, Mrs. Parker started preparing two lunches—one for Lily and one for Mary Ellen, as the mistress enjoyed company during her afternoon meal.
• • • •
“You finished them all?” William asked on Thursday night, after Mary Ellen told him she’d read all his Tarzan books.
“Yes, and thank you again.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to bring you something more to read.”
“I’d love that.”
“But I have a surprise for you. Actually, it’s from your husband.”
“Randall?” She couldn’t imagine what it might be. William reached into his vest pocket, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Mary Ellen. She took it, and peeked inside.
“What’s this?” She removed what appeared to be two tickets from the envelope.
“Theatre tickets. They arrived today. I’m to take you tomorrow night.”
“Not a picture show?” Mary Ellen asked as she turned the tickets over in her hand, inspecting each one.
“No, live theatre. Not sure how he managed to get these. I heard they were sold out.”
“Oh, how exciting!” She tucked the tickets back into the envelope and set it on the table.
William thought it felt good making Mary Ellen happy—seeing her smile so brightly. He then remembered Randall was responsible for Mary Ellen’s current smile. While a part of him wanted to be the one to make her happy, he knew it was best this way, because ultimately, he wanted what was best for Mary Ellen, and that was to have a happy marriage.
It was in that moment William Hunter realized he was in love with his best friend’s wife.
• • • •
The next day Lily helped Mary Ellen prepare for the theatre. She dressed her hair and helped her decide on the best gown for the occasion. When William arrived later that evening to pick her up, he was momentarily stunned. She carried a sophistication he hadn’t witnessed before. She’s a chameleon, he
thought, able to adapt and take on new situations with remarkable ease. It isn’t surprising that Mrs. Hanover felt Mary Ellen had little need for her services.
At the theatre, they ran into a number of people who were mutual friends of William and Randall, and none seemed surprised at Randall’s elopement or the fact his new wife was being escorted to the theater by his business partner. Apparently Randall had made several phone calls, apologizing for not inviting the friends to the hasty wedding, citing the pressing needs of the war effort, true love that couldn’t wait, and promised his friends that he and his new bride would be hosting a belated wedding reception upon his return. All he asked is that they welcome his new bride, and make her feel at home. Apparently William’s admonishment had not been ignored.
After the theater William and Mary Ellen joined several couples for a late supper. It was difficult for him to believe she was the same timid creature who sat quietly each night during supper, when Randall was still home. Then she quietly listened as William discussed business and politics with her husband, who made no effort to include his wife in the dinner conversation.
With her new theatre friends she found it easy to join in the discussion, as the many books she’d read provided interesting conversation fodder. Several at the table found it amusing that Randall’s new bride was so well read, especially considering it was common knowledge Randall had little patience for recreational reading.
“You were definitely a hit, Mary Ellen,” William told her as they drove away from the restaurant.
“Your friends are very nice.” While Mary Ellen had enjoyed the evening, she wondered if she had made a mistake by not contacting Randall to tell him that she was not pregnant and wanted out of the marriage. Being publicly acknowledged as Randall’s wife was going to make the termination of the marriage more uncomfortable for her husband. She had no desire to humiliate him, yet she had no idea where she would go without his support. Mary Ellen still hadn’t worked out those details in her mind, which was one reason she was in no hurry to tell Randall what she wanted.
“They seemed quite taken with you.” Considering her age, William was surprised the other women, each of whom was about six or seven years her senior, seemed sincerely charmed by the young bride. “I knew you liked to read, but I had no idea your extensive reading list. I feel a little ridiculous bringing you the Tarzan books, considering they are really very juvenile.”
“But they’re great fun!” Mary Ellen laughed. “I’ve always loved books. My Aunt Rachel was a teacher and was always loaning me one. My oldest brother, Ed, he also loved to read. We used to spend hours discussing a book we’d both read.” William glanced over and noted the tears glistening in her blue eyes and recalled Ed was the brother who was killed in the war.
“I have an idea,” William impulsively suggested. “We have to drive by my house on the way to yours. Why don’t we stop by, and you can pick out something from my library. I’m sure you can find suitable reading material to take back with you.”
“That would be wonderful! I confess, I was starting to panic, as I didn’t have something to read at home.”
When William pulled into his drive fifteen minutes later, Mary Ellen thought she would not describe his residence as a mere house. While not as large or as ostentatious as the Coulson Estate, it was a large two-storied residence, far larger than what one man needed, especially one who ate all his dinners in her parlor.
After parking the motor car, they were greeted at the front door by William’s butler, who immediately took Mary Ellen’s hat, gloves and jacket, along with William’s coat and hat.
“We’re not staying long, Henry,” William explained. “I’m taking Mrs. Coulson in the library so she can pick out a few books to take home with her.”
“Yes sir, would you like me to bring you and Mrs. Coulson some tea?”
“That would be nice, Henry.”
“Yes sir.” The man nodded and toddled off, carrying the items he’d collected from Mary Ellen and William.
William showed Mary Ellen into his library, by way of the hallway adjacent to the front entry. When they entered through the double doors into his favorite room, he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes widened as she stood in awe, taking in the sight of the massive room, its walls lined with oak shelves from ceiling to floor, filled with an impressive collection of leather bound books.
“Oh my, when you said home library…I had no idea…” Almost reverently she walked to one wall and gently ran her fingertips along a row of leather spines. William sat on the edge of his desk and just watched, fascinated by her reaction to his beloved library. He smiled and said nothing, allowing her to experience his favorite room.
They stayed much longer than he had originally intended, and by the time they were ready to leave, they had consumed a pot of tea and filled a box with books for Mary Ellen to take home. He carried the books to his car while she trailed behind him.
“Are you sure I should take all of them?” she asked sheepishly as he placed the box in the motor car.
“I imagine at the speed you read, you’ll be returning these books next week and refilling the box with new ones!”
Mary Ellen grinned as she climbed into the passenger seat. It had been a wonderful day, and she couldn’t remember when she had been happier.
Chapter Thirteen
William went to his office early on Saturday morning. He was there for about four hours when he received a frantic phone call from Mrs. Parker.
“Mr. William, please you need to come over!”
“Mrs. Parker, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Mrs. Coulson!”
“Mary Ellen, what happened?” He immediately thought of the baby. Was she losing the baby?
“She’s in her room, won’t come out, I’ve been trying to get ahold of Mr. Randall, but he’s not at any of the numbers I have.”
“Have you called the doctor?”
“Doctor? I don’t think she needs a doctor, but if she keeps carrying on like this, she may. All this crying can’t be good for the baby.”
William didn’t understand what the problem was, and Mrs. Parker seemed too upset to articulate.
“I’ll be right over,” he told her. “But if you think she needs a doctor, don’t wait, call him.”
When William arrived at the house twenty minutes later, he was greeted by a frantic Mrs. Parker, whose hands nervously fidgeted with several sheets of tattered stationery.
“Where’s Mary Ellen?” William asked as he entered the doorway and handed his coat and hat to the butler, who silently accepted the items.
“She’s up in her room. Lily checked on her. The poor dear is crying like her heart is broken.”
“What happened?” William wanted to run to Mary Ellen, but first he needed to know what had occurred.
“Here,” Mrs. Parker handed him the stationery she’d been holding. “She received this today in the mail. After she read it, she rushed upstairs and locked herself in her room. Been crying like her heart is broken ever since.”
Instead of asking what was in the letter, he took it and began to read.
My dearest Mary Ellen,
It is with a heavy heart I must inform you, your dear mother has left this world. You and I know she has not been quite right since the tragic news of young Ed reached her ears.
Last Sunday they found her poor body floating the lake – she had drowned. One of your father’s neighbors saw her walking down the road to the lake and he called out to her, but she did not answer – just continued to walk. As we both know, your mother was an excellent swimmer. I believe she simply could no longer handle the burden of her grief.
Her funeral was yesterday. I considered calling you earlier, but your father informs me you are with child, and a trip down here under these conditions would not be good for you or the baby.
Your father seems to feel you are not strong enough at this time to hear this news, but I feel he underestimates a woman’s strength, and I b
elieve strongly you have the right to know about your mother. I know how close you two were.
I know this is an awkward time to say congratulations, but a new baby – new life – often helps ease our pain when we lose a loved one.
After you left, and your parents and brothers moved into the new house, your father hired George Peter’s widow, Helen, to help care for your mama and boys. They – Helen and your father – have become very close and have decided to marry. He feels it is best not to wait, since he has five young sons still at home who need a mother. They will probably be married by the time you receive this letter.
I know now your father was right in arranging this marriage for you. You are safe in your new home, with a husband who can take care of you and a baby on the way. You have much to be grateful for.
I am very sorry for your dear mother, but I believe she is in a better place.
With love, Aunt Rachael
William folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. He was about to go upstairs when Mrs. Parker stopped him.
“Mr. William, it’s Mr. Randall, I have him on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”
William paused for a moment, glanced up the stairs, and then turn and followed the housekeeper to the telephone in the parlor.
“Hello?” William said into the phone.
“William, Mrs. Parker tells me things are quite upside down there.”
“Mary Ellen just learned her mother died. She drowned.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Oh, Mrs. Parker told you…”
“No. I knew right after it happened. Her father called me on Monday.”
“What? You knew all this time and you didn’t think to tell your wife?”
Mrs. Parker cringed at the way William shrieked into the phone, but she didn’t leave the room.
“I didn’t want her to make the trip for a funeral, not with the baby coming. I’d planned to tell her later, just not now. Her father promised his sister wouldn’t write Mary Ellen about her mother. Apparently his sister went behind his back. Had I known there was a chance, I would have had Mrs. Parker intercept the letter.”
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