"Did I really look like that?"
"Exactly—and I adored you from that moment."
"Well, I must remember to look fierce and vengeful sometimes."
"And that you should have chosen me ... is a miracle."
"Oh Judith, surely you are too modest."
"Far from it! As you know, I used to dream about you . . . how you suddenly discovered my worth."
"Which I did in due course."
"When did you discover it?"
"When I knew that you had come to borrow the books and were so interested. Or perhaps it began when I saw you emerging from those bandages. You looked as though you had suffered a fatal accident rather than embalmment. But it was a good effort."
I took his hand and kissed it.
"Tybalt," I said, "I am going to look after you all the days of your life."
"That's a comforting thought," he said.
"I'm going to make myself so important to you that you will hate every moment you spend away from me."
"I've reached that stage already."
"Is it true? Is it really true?"
He took my hands in his. "Understand, Judith, I lack your powers of expression. Words flow from you expressing your innermost thoughts."
"I know I speak without thinking. I'm sure you never do."
"Be patient with me."
"Tell me one thing. Are you happy?"
"Do you think I'm not?"
"Not completely."
He said slowly: "I have lost someone who was closer to me, until you came, than anyone else in the world. We worked together; we would be thinking along the same lines together often without speaking. He is dead, and he died suddenly. He was there one day and the next he was stricken down . . . mysteriously. I mourn him, Judith. I shall go on mourning him for a long time. That is why you must be patient with me. I can't match your exuberance, your pleasure in life. My dear, dear Judith, I believe that when we are married I shall begin to grow away from this tragedy."
Then I put my head against him and kept my arms tightly about him.
"To make you happy, to give you something to replace what you have lost . . . that shall be my mission in life."
He kissed my head.
"Thank God for you, Judith," he said.
There was a little friction between Tybalt and the aunts over the wedding. This, said Alison firmly, could not take place until a "reasonable" time had elapsed since the deaths of Sir Edward and Sir Ralph.
"Fathers of both bride and groom so recently dead!" said Dorcas. "You should wait at least a year."
I had never seen Tybalt express his feelings so forcibly.
"Impossible!" he cried. "We shall be leaving for Egypt in a matter of months. Judith must come as my wife."
"I can't imagine what people will say," Dorcas put in timidly.
"That," said Tybalt, "does not concern me in the least."
Dorcas and Alison were deflated, but afterwards I heard them saying to each other: "It may not concern him, but it concerns us and we have lived here all our lives and shall do so until the end."
"Tybalt is unconventional," I soothed. "And worrying what people think is really rather unnecessary."
They did not answer, but they shook their heads over me and my affairs. I was besotted; and they were sure that to let a man see before marriage how much you adored him was wrong. Afterwards, yes. Then it was a wife's duty to think as her husband did, to submit to him in all ways—unless of course he turned out to be a criminal—but before the marriage one did not "make oneself cheap"; it was the custom for a man to go down on his knees before marriage.
I laughed at them indulgently. "My marriage, as you should know, is going to be like no marriage that ever was. You can't expect me to do what is expected of me."
When they were with me they grew excited sometimes, for after all a wedding in the family was an event. They produced all manner of objects for my bottom drawer; and they talked about the reception and worried because Rainbow Cottage was too small for it and the bride's house was the necessary place for it.
I could laugh at them mockingly but I sensed their uneasiness. They did not wish me to wait a year so much for convention but because they thought it would give me time to see clearly as they called it. The fact was that they had chosen Oliver for my husband; Evan was second choice; but Tybalt did not appeal to them at all.
Dorcas caught a cold—something she invariably did when she was anxious; and her colds had to be nursed because they turned to bronchitis.
Tybalt came hurrying over to Rainbow Cottage. His eyes were glowing with excitement as he took my hands in his. For the moment I thought it was pleasure in seeing me. Then I discovered another reason.
"A most exciting thing has happened, Judith. It's not very far from here. Dorset in fact. A workman digging a trench has unearthed some Roman tiles. It's quite a find. It seems very likely that this is going to lead to a great discovery. I've had an invitation to go along and give an opinion. I am leaving tomorrow. I want you to come with me."
"That's wonderful," I cried. "Tell me all about it."
"I know very little yet. But these discoveries are so exciting. One can never be sure what we're going to turn up."
We walked about the Rainbow garden talking about it. He did not stay long though for he had to go back to Giza House to make some preparations and I went into Rainbow Cottage to tell the aunts that I was leaving next day.
I was astonished at the opposition.
"My dear Judith!" cried Alison. "What are you thinking of? How can you ... an unmarried woman, go off with a man?"
"The man I am going to marry."
"But you are not married yet," croaked Dorcas.
"It wouldn't be right," said Alison firmly.
"Dear aunts," I said, "in Tybalt's world these little conventions don't count."
"We are older than you, Judith. Why, many a girl has anticipated her marriage to her own bitter cost. She trusts her fiance, goes away with him and discovers that there are no wedding bells."
I flared up. "At one moment you are suggesting Tybalt is marrying me for my money and at the next that he plans to seduce me and then discard me. Really, you are being so absurd."
"Why we suggested no such thing," said Alison firmly. "And if those sort of things are in your mind, well, Judith, you really ought to stop and consider. No bride should feel her bridegroom capable of such a thing."
How could I argue with them? I went to my room and started to pack for the next day's trip.
That evening when I was in my room Alison tapped at the door. Her face was strained. "I'm worried about Dorcas. I do think we should have Dr. Gunwen at once."
I said I would go and fetch him, which I did.
When he came he said that Dorcas had bronchitis and Alison and I were up all night with the bronchitis kettle in Dorcas's room.
I knew the next day that I could not go to Dorset and leave Alison to nurse Dorcas alone, so I told Alison that I was going over to Giza House to explain matters to Tybalt.
Before I could speak, he began to tell me that the finds were even better than had at first been thought. I interrupted him: "I'm not coming, Tybalt."
His expression changed. He stared at me incredulously.
"Not coming!"
"My Aunt Dorcas is ill. I can't leave Alison to nurse her. I must stay. She has these turns and it is rather frightening when she does. She is really very ill."
"We could arrange something. One of the servants could go over to take your place."
"Aunt Alison wouldn't have that. It wouldn't be the same. I must be there in case . . ."
He was silent.
"Please understand, Tybalt. I want to come ... to be with you more than anything, but I just can't leave Rainbow Cottage now."
"Of course," he agreed, but he was very disappointed. I trusted not in me.
Tabitha came out into the front garden where we were standing.
"I've come to explain that I
can't go," I said. "My aunt is ill. I must stay here to help."
"But of course you must," said Tabitha.
"Would you come in Judith's place?" asked Tybalt. "I'm sure you'd find it of paramount interest."
Paramount interest. Was that a reproach? Did he feel that I should have found it of paramount interest?
Tabitha was saying: "Well, since Judith must stay, I will go in her place. You cannot leave your aunts now, Judith."
Tybalt pressed my arm. "I was so looking forward to showing you this marvelous discovery. But there'll be plenty of time . . . later."
"The whole of our lives," I said.
In a few days, much to our relief Dorcas began to recover.
She was touched that I had stayed behind to help nurse her and comfort Alison.
I heard her say to Alison when she thought I couldn't hear: "However impulsive Judith is, her heart's in the right place."
I knew they talked a great deal about me and my coming marriage. I did so want to reassure them; but they had taken it into their heads that Tybalt had asked me to marry him because he had preknowledge of my inheritance.
I was greatly looking forward to the day when I would leave Rainbow Cottage naturally because I longed to be Tybalt's wife and in addition I wanted to escape this atmosphere of distrust and to prove to them that Tybalt was the most wonderful husband in the world.
Tybalt and Tabitha were away for two weeks and when they returned they were so full of what they had seen that they talked of little else. I was filled with chagrin because I could not join in their conversation as I would have wished.
Tybalt was amused. "Never mind," he said, "when we're married you'll go everywhere with me."
The wedding day was almost at hand. Sabina had said that we might have a discreet reception at the rectory. After all, Dorcas had been ill and Rainbow Cottage was small and the rectory had been my home and she was Tybalt's sister. "I insist on it," she cried. "I can tell you, Judith, you are the most fortunate woman in the world . . . with one exception because even Tybalt could not be as wonderful as Oliver. Tybalt is too perfect. I mean he knows everything ... all about those ancient things, whereas darling Oliver knows about Greek and Latin. Not that Tybalt doesn't too, but you couldn't imagine Tybalt's preaching a sermon or listening to the farmers telling him about the droughts and the mothers about their babies . . . But our mother wanted him to do just that . . . Isn't it odd. She would have been pleased I'd married darling Oliver, you know. Old Nanny Tester is. But she was always a bit odd . . . since Mamma died, that is. Bats in the Belfry, they say of people like her. It means that they are a little peculiar in the head. Perhaps that's why she likes churches. . . ."
I said: "Really, Sabina, you do dodge from one thing to another, like a butterfly."
"My father used to say I was like a grasshopper. He didn't really approve of me, I wasn't clever like Tybalt. However grasshoppers are rather nice. I always liked them. Not so pretty as butterflies but hopping around seems to me a rather pleasant way of going on. Better than staying in the same place all the time. . . ."
"What are you talking about, Sabina? We're supposed to be discussing my wedding."
"Of course. It's to be here. I insist. Darling Oliver insists. You'll be married in his church and we'll have just a few friends as my father . . . and yours . . . what a surprise and fancy your being Sir Ralph's daughter all that time and our not knowing. What was I saying? Oh, you're to have your reception in the old rectory."
It did seem a good idea; and even Dorcas and Alison accepted it, though they insisted that in view of the recent deaths it must just be a quiet family affair.
When I discussed the matter with Tybalt he was rather vague. I could see that it was immaterial to him where we had a reception or whether there was none.
He wanted us to be married, he said. Where and how was unimportant.
He had a surprise for me.
"We'll have a honeymoon. You won't want to go straight back to Giza House."
"That," I said, "is immaterial to me. All I ask is that I am with you."
He turned to face me and with an unusually tender gesture took my face in his hands. "Judith," he said, "don't expect too much of me."
I laughed aloud--I was so happy. "Why I expect everything of you."
"That's what makes me uneasy. You see, I am rather selfish, not admirable in the least. And I am a man with an obsession."
"I share in that obsession," I told him with a laugh. "And I have another. You."
He held me against him. "You make me afraid," he said.
"You afraid? You are not afraid of anything ... or anyone."
"I'm certainly afraid of this high opinion you have of me. Where could you possibly have got it?"
"You gave it to me."
"You are too imaginative, Judith. You get an idea and it's usually something you want it to be and then you make everything fit into that."
"It's the way to live. I shall teach you to live that way."
"It's better to see the truth."
"I will make this my truth."
"I can see it is useless to warn you not to think too highly of me."
"It is quite useless."
"Time will have to teach you."
"I said we will grow closer together as the years pass. We shall share everything. I never thought it was possible to be so happy as I am at this moment."
"At least you will have had this moment."
"What a way to talk! This is nothing to what it is going to be like."
"My darling Judith, there is no one like you."
"Of course there isn't! I am myself. Reckless, impulsive, the aunts would tell you. Bossy, Sabina and Theodosia will agree and Hadrian will confirm that. They are the ones who have known me the longest. So you must not have too high an opinion of me."
"I'm glad there are these little faults. I shall love you for them as I hope you will love me for mine."
I said: "We are going to be so happy."
"I came to tell you about our honeymoon. I'm going to take you to Dorset. They are so excited about this discovery. I long to show it to you."
I said that was wonderful; but it did occur to me that there would no doubt be a great many people there and a honeymoon on our own might have been more appropriate.
But Tybalt would be there—and that was all I asked.
There was so much to do in preparation even for a "discreet" wedding, including sessions in Sarah Sloper's cottage which seemed to go on for hours. There was I in my white satin wedding gown with Sarah kneeling at my feet, her mouth full of pins, and as soon as she had it free she would talk all the time.
"Well, fancy it coming to this. You, Miss Judith . . . and him. He was for Miss Theodosia, you know, and she gets the little professor and you get him."
"You make it sound as though it's some sort of lottery, Sarah."
"They do say marriage be a lottery, Miss Judith. And you being Sir Ralph's girl and all. I always guessed that. Why he had a real fancy for you. And Miss Lavinia. Pretty as a picture she were but I'd say you took more after Sir Ralph."
"Thank you, Sarah."
"Oh, I weren't meaning it that way, Miss Judith. You'll look pretty enough in your bride's dress. Brides always do. That's why there's nothing I like making better. And is it to be orange blossom? I reckon there's nothing like orange blossom for brides. I had it myself when I married Sloper. That's going back a bit. And I've still got it. Put away in a drawer it be. I look at it now and then and think of the old days. You'll be able to do that, Miss Judith. It's a pleasant thing to do when things don't turn out just as you'd fancied. And don't we all have fancies eh, on our wedding days?"
"I look on it as a beginning of happiness not a climax."
"Oh, you and your talk. Always was one for it. But as I say it's nice to have a wedding day to look back on—as long as it don't make you fretful." She sighed and went on fervently: "I hope you'll be happy, Miss Judith. Well, we can but hope. So let'
s pray the sun'll shine on your wedding day. They do say 'Happy be the bride the sun shines on.'"
I laughed; but this assumption that my marriage would be a perilous adventure was beginning to irritate me.
On a rather misty October day I was married to Tybalt in the church I knew so well. Oddly enough as I came down the aisle on the arm of Dr. Gunwen, who had offered to "give me away," there being no one else to perform this necessary duty, I was thinking of how my knees used to get sore from kneeling on the mats which hung inside the pews for that purpose. An extraordinary thought to have when I was on my way to marriage with Tybalt!
A fellow archaeologist and friend of Tybalt's was his best man. He was named Terence Gelding and was accompanying us to Egypt. On the night before the wedding I had not seen Tybalt. He had gone to the station to meet his friend and bring him back to Giza House where he was spending a few days. Tabitha told me on my wedding morning that they had all stayed up too late talking. I felt that vague tinge of jealousy which I had begun to notice came to me when others shared an intimacy with Tybalt and I was not present. It was foolish of me but I supposed I had dreamed so long of this happening that I could not entirely believe that it was true; there had been covert remarks about my marriage from several directions and it seemed that these insinuations had penetrated even my natural optimism. I could not help feeling a twinge of uneasiness and distrust of this sudden granting by fate of my most cherished desire.
But as I made my vows before Oliver, and Tybalt put the ring on my finger, a wonderful happiness surged over me and I was more completely happy than I had ever been.
It was disappointing that as we came into the porch the rain should begin to pelt down.
"You can't walk out in that," said Dorcas at my elbow.
"It's nothing," I said. "Just a shower and we only have to go over to the rectory."
"We'll have to wait."
She was right, of course. So we stood there, I still holding Tybalt's hand saying nothing, staring out at the rain and thinking: I'm really married ... to Tybalt!
Curse of the Kings Page 13
