“How awful,” whispered Geoffrey, who had delicate sensibilities.
“It was,” agreed Somerset. “I’ll certainly never forget it.” He exited the car, opened the door to the tonneau so that Geoffrey and Eunice could get out, and went to Isabel’s door. She was so lovely. So perfect in every way. And she would soon be his. He could hardly wait.
She smiled up at him. “It really does hurt. I hope it’s not broken.”
“I read somewhere,” said Eunice, watching with interest as Somerset lifted her mother and balanced her in his arms, “that sprains are often slower to heal than clean breaks. I think it’s because the tentacles—” She stopped speaking and thought hard for a second. “I mean tendons get torn during a sprain and not when a bone is broken.”
Geoffrey said, “Ew,” and looked at Eunice as if she were the demon’s spawn.
Somerset said, “You may be right, Miss Eunice. Let’s go ask the good doctor.”
Eunice skipped up to the porch steps. “When I grow up, I want to be a doctor.”
Both Somerset and Eunice’s mother chuckled.
Loretta and her passengers had arrived ahead of them. Somerset had anticipated this circumstance, since Loretta drove like a fiend and he had taken it easy out of consideration for Isabel’s injury.
“He’s awfully nice to look after it for me,” murmured Isabel.
“It’s his job,” said Somerset.
“But I don’t have any honeysuckle bath salts to give him in payment.” She grinned.
“Maybe he’ll accept money.”
“That would be nice.” She snuggled close, clutching him tightly. Somerset thought it was almost as if she feared they were going to be separated. Silly woman. He’d never let her go.
The door was flung open before they’d all climbed the porch stairs, and Loretta called out, “Bring the invalid into the front parlor. I have Mrs. Brandeis opening champagne so that we can celebrate properly.”
“Champagne!” Isabel laughed. “Thank you, Loretta. I didn’t know you’d planned on champagne.”
Somerset carried her through the door and down the hall, Geoffrey, Eunice, and Loretta trailing. Loretta said, “Oh, my, yes. I figured we could use it either in celebration or condolence. I’d planned on a celebration, of course.”
“You’re too good to me,” Isabel murmured.
“Where do you want the patient?” Somerset asked Dr. Abernathy, who stood before the unlighted fireplace, stroking his chin. Marjorie, who was similarly occupied, stood across the room from him. They both slanted glances at each other from time to time, but no teasing had commenced yet. Somerset could only be glad of it.
“That chair will be fine,” Jason said, pointing.
Somerset deposited his precious burden in the chair. “I’ll just prop your foot up on this ottoman.”
“Thank you,” Isabel said with a grimace of pain. “It does hurt a lot.”
“Put this cushion under her heel,” suggested Marjorie, handing Somerset a pillow. So he did.
“Thank you.” Isabel settled her foot on the cushion.
“Let me take a look at it.” Dr. Abernathy walked over and knelt beside Isabel’s chair. “You’re going to have to remove that stocking. We’ll turn our backs. Do you need help?”
Isabel’s cheeks turned bright red. “I don’t think so.”
“All right, then. About face, gentlemen.”
Somerset, Jason, and Geoffrey turned their backs. Somerset thought Geoffrey probably didn’t need to, since it would take more than a naked leg to get him interested in a female, but he didn’t say so.
He heard a few rustles as Isabel lifted her gown’s skirt and untied her garter. He pictured her rolling down her stocking, and his juices started to flow with a vengeance.
Because he didn’t want to make a spectacle of himself, he turned his mind away from Isabel’s lovely legs and began contemplating where they should hold their wedding ceremony. He wanted to be married as soon as could be, and Isabel had been married before, so he imagined she wouldn’t care about a huge church wedding. He’d like to hold the ceremony in his house, actually.
“I’m ready,” came Isabel’s voice from behind them, interrupting his chain of thought.
He turned, saw the purple, swollen ankle Isabel had propped on the cushion, and gasped. “My God, Isabel! That looks awful. It must hurt like crazy.”
She gave him a tender smile. “It does. But it won’t last forever.” Looking at her ankle, she added, “It’s ugly, though, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Somerset’s heart ached for his beloved and her pain. He wished he could take it away and bear it himself.
“Och,” murmured Marjorie. “That looks worse than the last time, when you sprained it on the ship.”
“Yes,” said Eunice, staring at her mother’s ankle with rapt fascination. “It does. It’s very ugly, Mama.”
“I’m afraid it is,” agreed Isabel. “My ankle went over sideways.”
“Well, Jason will fix it up for you,” said Loretta.
“I heard an awful crunch when it happened,” Isabel added ruefully.
Geoffrey fainted.
They all turned to look at him. Jason sighed. “I don’t think there’s really anything wrong with him. He just doesn’t like the sight of bruised flesh.”
“Maybe I should get him a pillow and a glass of water,” Eunice suggested.
“Good idea.” Jason gave her an approving smile.
“But I want to see what you do to Mama’s ankle.”
Loretta took over. “I’ll ring for Mrs. Brandeis. Here. Put this cushion under his head, Eunice. Then you can watch the operation.”
“Thank you, Miss Linden.” Eunice, efficient as a woman ten times her age, did as Loretta had bidden her while Loretta rang for her housekeeper. Then the little girl walked over to the chair and stood by her mother’s side. “If you need to hold my hand, Mama, I’m right here.”
Her offer tickled Somerset, but he didn’t laugh, knowing that Eunice was deadly serious. He was also irked with himself for not thinking of offering his own hand.
“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll take you up on your offer.” She reached for her daughter’s hand and smiled. Eunice, on the other hand, was as sober as a judge.
“All right, let’s see this mangled member.”
Jason gently lifted Isabel’s foot and pressed and palpated and twisted it until Somerset wanted to punch him in the jaw for hurting her. His hands fisted, but he held them at his sides, knowing he was being irrational. He told himself that Jason wasn’t really fondling his darling’s foot and ogling it, but examining it in order to determine the best course of action to take.
After what seemed to him like an unconscionably long time, the doctor said, still eyeing the ankle, “It’s a bad sprain, all right. I don’t feel any broken bones. It’s going to take a long time to heal, though, and I’m afraid you won’t be able to resume your work at the Fairfield for at least a month. Perhaps more, depending on how well you treat it in the meantime.” He left off staring at her unclad leg and peered at Isabel’s face. “You need to stay off it for at least a week. I’ll ice it and bind it and then I’ll check it daily, but I don’t want you walking on it.”
“But . . .” Isabel was shocked. “But I need to work! I can’t stay away from my job for a week, much less a month!”
“Nonsense,” said Loretta firmly. “You will stay right here with that foot elevated and you won’t stir from this house. I’ll see to it.” She nodded at Jason to emphasize her decision.
“No!” cried Isabel. “I can’t. You don’t understand.”
“I know what we’ll do,” Somerset, who didn’t want anyone else taking care of Isabel, said. “I’ll call a preacher or a judge, and we’ll get married right here, right now. Then I can take care of you, Isabel! You won’t have to go back to the Fairfield, and you can open your dance academy when you’re well again.” He thought it was a splendid idea.
His suggestion brought the clamor to an abru
pt halt. Everyone gazed at him for several silent seconds.
A slow smile spread across Loretta’s face. “What a good idea.”
“Indeed,” concurred Marjorie. She, too, smiled broadly. Somerset was amazed. One didn’t often see a smile brighten that particular countenance.
Eunice said, “Really?” She grinned like an imp and clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh, Mama, how bully! Mr. FitzRoy, I’m so glad you’re going to marry my mother!”
“Thank you, Eunice.” Somerset was genuinely touched by the child’s approbation.
“Good man,” affirmed Dr. Abernathy, grinning from ear to ear.
Isabel swallowed hard and said, “Wait.”
Everyone’s attention swerved from Somerset to her. She looked wretched.
Baffled, Somerset said, “Wait? But I thought . . .”
Isabel bowed her head. “I know. But I need to tell you something first.” She glanced up and looked at everyone in the room, one by one, including her daughter. “I need to tell everyone. You may not want to marry me once you know the truth.”
“Isabel, do you think—”
But Isabel held up a hand, and Loretta stopped talking. “Everyone deserves to know the truth, especially Somerset.”
“The truth?” Where only seconds before joy had possessed Somerset’s entire being, apprehension was rapidly taking over. He didn’t like this. It boded ill.
“The truth?” Eunice, clearly befuddled, remained beside her mother, holding her hand and looking as if she’d stand by her no matter what the problem turned out to be.
“The truth?” echoed Marjorie, puzzled. “You’re daft, Isabel. What can possibly be so bad that Somerset won’t want to marry you?”
“Nothing.” Loretta’s brow furrowed. Somerset was alarmed to note that she was adopting her militant-agitator demeanor, ready to do battle for her friend. “Not a single thing.”
“Better spill the beans,” Dr. Abernathy said. He was the only one who sounded natural.
“Yes, I shall,” Isabel said, and she swallowed again. “I should have told you—all of you—long ago. I was . . . afraid that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me if you knew the truth.”
“That’s silly, Mama. These people are your friends. If you made a mistake . . . well, everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Friends are people who stand by you when you need them.”
Isabel burst into tears. Somerset handed her his handkerchief. She whispered brokenly, “Thank you, Eunice. Thank you, Somerset. This is a very bad thing I did, though, sweetie. It’s something many people can’t forgive, even if they’re your friends.”
Eunice’s little eyebrows dipped over her pretty brown eyes. She looked as if she couldn’t think of anything that bad barring, perhaps, cold-blooded murder. After giving the problem a moment’s thought, she said, “It isn’t because you weren’t married to my father, is it?”
Chapter Nineteen
Everyone in the room who wasn’t Eunice gasped, including Eunice’s mother and Geoffrey, who had recovered from his swoon and was sitting on the floor, watching the goings-on.
Isabel screeched, “How did you know that?”
Eunice shrugged. “Some of the children in the village used to call me a bastard, so I looked it up in Great-Uncle Charlie’s dictionary.”
“Oh, my God.” Isabel threw her arms around Eunice and drew her onto her lap. Burying her face in her daughter’s hair, she sobbed, “I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to suffer for my sins.”
“I didn’t suffer, Mama, and I don’t think it’s much of a sin.” Eunice seemed slightly uncomfortable with her mother’s naked emotions. She glanced up at Somerset. “Does it matter to you, Mr. FitzRoy? That my mother wasn’t married to my father, I mean? I’m sure it wasn’t her fault. She’s ever so good a person, really. I think my father must have seduced and abandoned her.”
Another screech from Isabel, who jerked her head up from Eunice’s hair. “What? What did you say?”
Eunice shrugged again. “I only said that I think my father must have seduced—”
”No! Don’t say it again,” begged Isabel.
Suddenly Loretta burst out laughing. “Eunice Golightly, if you aren’t the most perfect child I’ve ever met, I don’t know who is! You have exactly the right attitude.” She turned on Somerset like a tiger. “And if you don’t agree with her, Mr. FitzRoy, you’ll kindly take your leave and never darken my door again.”
Stunned, first by Eunice’s matter-of-fact announcement of what her mother had considered a confession worthy of abandonment by him, then by Isabel’s horror that Eunice even knew, and then by Loretta’s unprovoked attack upon him, Somerset staggered back a step and stuck out a hand to steady himself on a nearby sofa. “You mean you weren’t married to Eunice’s father?”
Unable to speak, Isabel only nodded. Tears pooled in her beautiful blue eyes as she watched him.
As a matter of fact, everyone seemed to be watching him. How embarrassing. He’d much rather have done this in private. Ah, well, so be it. If Isabel was brave enough to confess to what might conceivably—so to speak—be considered a black sin in front of all her friends and God almighty, could Somerset do less?
He walked over to her chair, got down on one knee, and took the twined hands of Isabel and Eunice in his. He spoke to Eunice first. “Miss Eunice, you are, without a doubt, exactly what Miss Linden called you. And the person who made you thus is your mother, whom I love with all my heart.”
Isabel gasped.
He transferred his gaze to Isabel. “I’m sorry you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about this before, darling, but believe me, it doesn’t matter a whit and I’ll never, ever hold your sad circumstances against you.”
She looked as if he’d socked her in the jaw, as he’d wanted to do Jason. “You . . . you . . .” She had to stop and swallow again.
“I think he means that he still wants to marry you, Mama,” Eunice explained. She smiled at Somerset. “I knew you weren’t a stuffy old prig, Mr. FitzRoy.”
“Thank you very much, Miss Eunice.”
“I can’t believe it!” Isabel buried her face in her hands and sobbed as if her heart were breaking. Eunice tried to struggle off her lap, couldn’t do it, and brushed at the wrinkles in her skirt.
“Here,” said Somerset, uneasy by this reaction, “what’s all this? Don’t you want to marry me? I thought you said you loved me.”
Still sobbing, Isabel said, “I do. Oh, I love you so much!”
Relieved, he said, “Well, then, that’s all I need to hear. But my knee hurts. Do you mind if I stand?”
Before he could do so, Isabel flung herself along with her daughter, who was still on her lap, at Somerset. Fortunately, he had braced himself with his knee, so he didn’t fall over backwards.
“Hurrah!” shouted Loretta. Then she gestured at her friends to join in. “Three cheers for the happy couple!”
So they all of them, even Marjorie, yelled, “Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”
# # #
Later that night, after Loretta, who had many powerful friends in the city of San Francisco, had called upon a judge of her acquaintance; and after a brief ceremony uniting Isabel Golightly and Somerset FitzRoy in holy matrimony; and after Mrs. Brandeis had prepared a supper to go with the champagne (Isabel’s ankle was too badly hurt for them to go out to supper); and after toasts had been drunk and a sleepy Eunice put to bed and everyone else had either departed or gone to bed, Isabel and Somerset lay in her bed, happy and exhausted from a delightful bout of love-making.
“I’m glad Dr. Abernathy bound my ankle tightly. I don’t think it would have survived all that if it weren’t bound.” Isabel had her arms around Somerset and decided she’d just keep them there for a while. She never wanted to let him go, although she figured she’d have to release him someday, if only so that he could help her pack.
“I am, too.” Somerset was still panting slightly. His grin told her that he’d enjoyed their
recent exercise a lot and that he believed he’d done a good job. So did she. He didn’t seem inclined to make her let him go, either. Isabel considered that a good sign.
“It was lovely of Loretta to make her judge friend come over here and marry us.”
With a laugh, Somerset said, “It’s probably a good idea that you and Eunice will be moving into my house. If you stayed here, God alone knows what would become of you.”
“Loretta is a wonderful person,” Isabel said. “She’s my very best friend in the whole world. Why, if it hadn’t been for her, Eunice and I would have drowned along with all those other people on the Titanic.”
That sobered Somerset instantly. “In that case, I think I’ll have a statue erected in her honor. There’s probably a park somewhere in the city that can use a good statue.”
“Don’t be silly.” But she giggled.
Contentment captured them both, and they lay silent for several minutes. At last Somerset spoke. “Did Eunice’s father really seduce and abandon you?”
Isabel’s heart crunched. She’d been afraid he’d ask. It was his right to know. “Well . . . yes. I hate to talk about it, because I was so stupid. But . . . well, I believed him when he told me he loved me. But as soon as . . . as I knew I was expecting Eunice and I told him, he lit out for America. With his wife. I didn’t know he was married until after he left.”
“Good God, what a rotter.”
“Yes.” Isabel hoped that would be the end of that particular conversation, but she was disappointed.
“Is that why you left for America? To find him?”
“Good Lord, no! I never want to see the man again as long as I live. I don’t even know if I’d recognize him, it was so long ago. I only feel sorry for his wife.”
“Yes. He doesn’t sound very much like a man of good character.”
“That’s an understatement. But so far, Eunice isn’t at all like him.”
“I should hope not.”
Isabel was glad to see him grin. He had been looking quite somber and serious. She didn’t want a somber and serious wedding night. She wanted joy to prevail tonight and forever. She said, “In fact, I can’t think of anyone in my family after whom Eunice does take. My uncle Charlie is smart, but nothing like Eunice. And my mother and father were bright, but not any brighter than most people. And God knows, I’m not.”
Perfect Stranger Page 30
