Willow Grove Abbey: A Historical World War II Romance Novel (The Somerville Trilogy)

by Payne, Mary Christian

  Such vows did not hold for the entire weekend. It would have been foolish to assume that we wouldn’t continue our journey of discovery, having once experienced the ecstasy of one another’s bodies. The following day we planned a rendezvous in Spence’s cottage, which was next to his office. Once again, Drew and Annie were most accommodating, announcing that they were going for a drive to explore the countryside. Spence collected me a little before noon, and we lunched at the hotel. Then we made our way back to his cottage, which was picturesque and engaging, with cob walls, a thatched roof, and a large baking oven at the foot of the chimney. I couldn’t help but remember Edwina’s comments about a thatched roof cottage in the Cotswolds being perfect for me. There were six rooms which included a parlor, two bedrooms, a dining space, the kitchen and loo. It was obvious that a bachelor lived there for the decor was sparse, and there was precious little of a personal nature. The older physician, who actually owned the cottage, had removed his belongings. Still, it was charming, if a bit sparsely furnished. An old four-poster dominated Spence’s bedroom, topped with a lovely hand stitched quilt.

  I found that the anticipation of lovemaking only heightened its intensity. When we were finally in the bedroom, with the door closed and shades pulled, I was fairly trembling with desire. We came together in a passionate embrace, and it was no time at all before we were completely unclothed and lying on the crisp, linen sheets under the quilt. I was much less hesitant than I’d been the first time, and even eager to touch Spence…To feel his hardness…To stroke him and give him pleasure. I would never have believed that I could be feeling such desires. We openly expressed our love for one another, in delight and joy. When he entered me, it was absolute ecstasy. I knew that he shared the same emotions. We spent the afternoon making love repeatedly, each time reaching new heights of passion. Over and over, I would believe that we were both fully satiated, but somehow the desire always returned. Had it not been for the human body’s natural need to satisfy hunger and thirst, we might never have left the tiny bedroom in that old, country cottage near the River Twig.

  I was never the same after that weekend. If Spence had been the primary consideration before in my life, he was all-consuming thereafter. All I could think about was how much I loved him, wanted to share his life, and grow old with him. I could not wait to get beyond the hurdle of confessing my love for him to my parents, so that he and I might look forward to planning a future together.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  November 8, 1935

  A Confrontation

  I immediately rang my parents upon returning to London that Sunday evening. I did not want to make the topic of Spence an enormous issue, as I feared they would attach more importance to it than I wished, before they’d had a chance to meet him. I was not so foolish as to think that because I loved Spence, all obstacles would magically disappear. There were certain to be voluminous objections. I did hope, however, that upon meeting him those objections would become less important. I had two weeks to prepare myself for the charity dinner, but decided that I would meet with my parents before that occasion to tell them of my feelings for Spence. I felt that it would be wiser to broach the subject with them privately. I knew how emotional Mummy could become, and didn’t want to expose Spence to an unpleasant scene.

  The following weekend, I made a long-overdue visit to Willow Grove Abbey. Upon arrival, my mind was looking ahead to a life eventually spent there as Spence’s wife. I’d begun to fantasize about a future whereby Drew would minister to the congregation of St. Mary and St. Edward, Blake would oversee Somerville Ltd., and Spence and I would settle into the idyllic life of country doctoring, perhaps in Bedminster-with-Hartcliffe. We could all live at Willow Grove. Spence knew of my deep love for my ancestral home, and I knew he would do anything to make me happy. The fantasy was lovely, albeit very unrealistic. There was certainly no reason to assume that my parents would be leaving Willow Grove Abbey anytime soon.

  When I arrived at Willow Grove, my parents greeted me at the entrance. I had not seen them in weeks, as I’d repeatedly manufactured excuses to keep them from visiting London. Their presence would have meant that I couldn’t see Spence, and seeing Spence had become the center of my life. Both of my parents appeared to be in high spirits on that afternoon, for which I silently thanked God. I hoped they would still be when my visit ended.

  “You look splendid, Sophia,” Papa exclaimed when he saw me. “Absolutely splendid. I can see that London agrees with you.”

  “Oh, Nigel, you men are so obtuse,” Mummy responded. “It isn’t London that agrees with Sophia. A whirlwind social life has put roses in her cheeks. Isn’t that right, Sophia?”

  I smiled, and felt a bit uncomfortable. “Well, partly right, Mummy,” I answered.

  “Why don’t you have Joseph bring your things in? Perkins can see that they are sent to your room, and Violet can set about unpacking for you? If you want to freshen up, Papa and I will be in the drawing room, so join us in there.”

  Joseph was our chauffeur and Perkins was our Butler, with whom Mummy and Papa could not have survived. He did a great deal of work and was one of the most important servants in our home. Perkins ordered all of the supplies, kept the household accounts and engaged both men servants and housemaids, parlor maids and even our Rose. Violet was our lady’s maid. She had a great many duties, and was first rate. She was a hairdresser, a good packer, and a fine needlewoman. She also drew Mummy’s and my baths, laid out our underclothes, brushed our hair and dressed it. Actually, Violet was Mummy’s lady’s maid, but when I was at home, we shared her. Mummy had tried to persuade me that we should employ two lady’s maids, one for each of us, because she felt that it was impractical for a debutante and her mother to share a maid... at least during the height of the Season. I firmly refused such an excessive suggestion, nor would I agree to take Violet with me to Annie and Drew’s house. I really felt no need for a lady’s maid at all, and thought it a great affectation on Mummy’s part.

  The only person I really adored in the servant’s realm was Nan, our housekeeper, who had been at Willow Grove Abbey since before I was born. She had her own bedroom, bath and sitting area. All of the servants, including Perkins, came under Nan’s authority. She supervised the entire house exactly as a very conscientious and skilled mistress would do herself. I worshipped Nan, and really considered her to be a ‘second mother’ to me. How I often wished that she were truly my mother! Nan had an innate kindness, and the patience of Job. It was sad that she had never borne children of her own, because I believe she would have been a superlative mother. She was always there for me during my growing up years, and I undoubtedly learned about love from her. She showed her love to all of us in abundance.

  I climbed the winding staircase to my old bedchamber, furnished in period French. There were twin beds, a dressing table and two matching armoires. The walls were covered in Fortuny fabric of pale, pink silk. Since meeting Spence, I’d become acutely aware of the fact that I’d always taken my opulent lifestyle for granted. My love for him made me aware that there were other places and ways to be happy. While my childhood home was uncommonly splendid, it would not have had much meaning if I’d had to face life without him. It truly didn’t matter where I married him, or whether we could ever afford the kind of life I’d known. I only wanted to be his wife. I fluffed my hair, splashed cool water on my face, and slipped into a blue cashmere skirt and twin set. Then, I joined my parents in the drawing room. It was an elegant room, with bay windows, inset with softly cushioned window seats. The portieres were buttery yellow velvet, fringed in white, and they puddled to an Aubusson carpet, patterned with rose, crème and blue. A magnificent fireplace covered half of one wall. There were white sofas, yellow winged back chairs, and pale blue club chairs scattered about. Papa offered me a gin and tonic and I settled myself upon the sofa across from where both of my parents were sitting.

  “Right, so, bring us up to date on happenings in London,” Papa began.

&nb
sp; “It’s been a frightfully busy summer,” I smiled. “I’ve had marvelous fun, and hope I haven’t been too great a burden on Drew and Annie. They have been wonderful. I don’t think I’ve missed a West End show, and I’ve attended all of the gallery openings.”

  “That’s splendid” Papa smiled.

  “Are you meeting many suitable people?” Mummy asked.

  “I should think that everyone I meet is suitable, Mummy. I cannot imagine where I would meet any but suitable types,” I teased.

  “You know what I mean, Sophia” Mummy responded, in a not altogether light tone.

  “I know, Mummy,” I murmured, realizing my mistake, and assuming a more serious pose.

  “I saw the Duchess of Winnsborough last week in Bath. She told me that Owen has been in London nearly the entire Season. Did you know that he will inherit his father’s estate, Winnsborough Hall, in Gloustershire? In fact, his parents are prepared to gift it to him and a bride, and remove themselves to their second home, Snow Hill, as soon as he marries. Winnsborough Hall is one of the most splendid estates in the country, and he’s very eligible, Sophia. Do you spend much time with him?”

  “Yes, Mummy. You know that Lord Winnsborough and I are good friends. He has escorted me to several social functions, including Ascot. You recall, I’m sure, that he was my partner for supper at my Debut Ball. Unfortunately, he rather resembles a bloodhound, Mummy.”

  “Sophia, what a dreadful remark. Are you one of the ‘great beauties on Earth’? She asked, snidely. “The Winnsboroughs are lovely people, and he is highly suitable. I should like you to be nice to him. The Duchess hints that he has thoughts that go well beyond being your escort to parties, the theater, and Balls. I think there is an excellent chance that you will be receiving a proposal of marriage from him in the not too distant future.”

  I was stricken. Lord Winnsborough was not who I had in mind as a future husband. I was in love with Spence, and did not intend to consider any other man. I suspected that Mummy had been conspiring with Lady Winnsborough to match me with Owen, probably since my birth. It was time to set my parents straight about future intentions. Choosing my words carefully, I began.

  “Do you remember that I’ve mentioned Spencer Stanton before? I believe you even met him in the queue at the end of my debut Ball. I don’t think you could help but remember him. He is an exceptional stand-out.”

  “I do believe I met someone of that name and description. Is he tall, and dark haired? Quite good looking?” Mummy answered. She took a large gulp of her gin and tonic.

  “Yes. That is Spence, exactly.” My heart speeded up.

  “Are his people the Stanton’s who own Stanton Hall in South Molten, Devon?”

  “No Mummy. Spence’s parents are deceased. They died when he was fifteen. The Stanton’s in South Molten could be some relation, I suppose, but Spence was raised near Bristol, until he went off to Eton and Oxford.”

  “Where is his land, then?” questioned Papa.

  Why in the world was it so important for people to own land? “He isn’t a landowner, Papa. He’s a physician. A very fine one. He has graduated the University of Edinburgh and is presently in a private medical scheme. In addition, he’s a rather renowned RAF pilot.”

  “Doesn’t have land? Has he a title?” asked Mummy.

  “Well, in a manner of speaking he does. One he earned with a lot of very hard work. That of ‘Doctor’,” I replied, feeling very proud of Spence.

  “Sophia, are you telling us that you are more than a friend to this title-less and probably penniless, physician?” Mummy asked, with an edge to her voice.

  “That’s what I’m telling you, Mummy. Only he is not penniless. He is in a private medical practice in Twigbury, and is doing wonderfully well. He’s terribly busy with patients and they all adore him.” I shifted around in my chair, trying to make myself more comfortable, because I felt that the atmosphere was growing more stifling as the conversation continued.

  “Twigbury! Twigbury near Cirencester! In Gloucestershire? My God, Sophia. There’s nothing there save a brewery, a duck reserve and a couple of hotels. When did you visit Twigbury?”

  “Last weekend. Drew, Annie and I drove over and stayed at the Twigbury Court Hotel. Spence wanted me to see where he practices. It’s a lovely spot, very quaint and old.”

  Mummy returned to the sofa, and I could see that her mouth had turned white round the edges. “Sophia let me be clear about this. Are you telling me that you are involved romantically with this doctor, who has no title, no land, no inheritance, no parents, and not very decent prospects? Who lives in a Cotswold cottage, in Twigbury, delivering babies and treating the croup?”

  “I don’t see it that way, Mummy.”

  “Tell us how you do see it then, Sophia?” asked Papa.

  It was always abundantly clear that Papa had to agree with Mummy or face her wrath. I took a deep breath and gave it my all. “Papa, I see Spence as a very decent man, with great intelligence and kindness. He has a strong love for humanity, is one of the most moral individuals I have ever known, possesses great, genuine integrity, and is warm and witty. He’s also devastatingly handsome,” I smiled, blushing. Taking another deep breath, I finished by saying: “But, perhaps, more than anything else, he loves me, not because I’m Lady Sophia Somerville, but for myself. He cares about my thoughts.... My dreams.... I love him.” I stopped, out of breath.

  “I see,” said Mummy, as she placed her drink on an inlaid French table, to the left of the sofa. “That was quite a speech. And has he asked you to marry him?”

  “He’s waiting until he can ask Papa’s permission. But, yes, we have spoken of marriage.”

  “And what answer have you given him?”

  “I’ve told him that I should love nothing better than to marry him, but that I have to speak with my parents. I want your blessing. I know you haven’t met him, but I can assure you, he is everything that I say.”

  “That is my concern, Sophia.”

  “What do you mean, Mummy?”

  “You are well aware that he is not suitable. I cannot imagine you having allowed this to progress beyond friendship. What in God’s name were Drew and Anne thinking to encourage this?”

  “They were thinking of my happiness.”

  “Oh happiness! Rubbish! Sophia, you are just a child, and do not have the faintest notion of what ‘happiness’ means. You will not find yourself so happy when you are working your fingers to the bone as a doctor’s wife, never having nice clothes, never entertaining, worrying all of the time about money. It would never do. Moreover, what about children? How would you intend to provide for them?”

  I was growing very irritated. I loved Spence and Mummy was making it sound like he was a sheep herder. “Mummy, Spence is not a destitute person! He might not have the means that you and Papa enjoy, but we wouldn’t starve, nor would our children. He is as well educated as any of us... better educated than most.”

  “He may have education, but it’s perfectly obvious that he hasn’t any money. Are you thinking that you would be able to rely upon your family for financial assistance? I suppose he assumes that you would receive a large dowry?”

  “That has absolutely never been discussed. I don’t think Spence would accept any help from my family. I don’t think that Spence needs or desires any help, as he’s perfectly content and happy with his chosen profession, and with the style of life it provides.”

  “Sophia. You are showing your usual naiveté. Don’t for a moment believe that your Doctor Stanton isn’t quite impressed by your background. Surely you can’t be so foolish as to think that he doesn’t hold great interest in your dowry? Obviously, he would be dependent upon only his salary, if he does not find a wife who can provide a dowry to enable him to become a gentleman of means.” It was unbelievable that Papa couldn’t hear himself. He was describing what he had done when he married Mummy. “How often have your mother and I warned you that this could happen? Let’s assume, however, that you
are correct, and he really does love you for yourself. Would you be perfectly content and happy with his lifestyle? Somehow I do not think so.” Even Papa’s voice was becoming more forceful.

  “I have spent a lot of time thinking about how my life would differ, in terms of social status and so forth. It just does not matter to me. I know I would make a very good physician’s wife.”

  “Have you made up your mind to accept this proposal with or without our blessing, Sophia?”

  “Mummy, I hadn’t thought about that possibility. I had hoped I would have your blessing.”

  “I suppose you would want to have a large wedding in the chapel at Willow Grove Abbey, and he hasn’t any noteworthy family. How on Earth would it look in the Times?”

  “I think we would both love to have a glorious, traditional wedding.” I took another deep breath. ”But it couldn’t be at ‘St. Edward and St. Mary.”

  “Couldn’t be here? Why ever not? All Somervilles have been married in our chapel for eons. If he has no ancestral home, what difference can it possibly make to him?” Clearly, he is a ‘nobody from nowhere’”. Mummy was becoming quite angry, snide and rude.

  “He’s a Roman Catholic, Mummy.”

  There was complete silence. I could hear the ticking of the Piaget clock, and sounds of the servants preparing afternoon tea. A dog howled in the distance. Papa poured two more drinks for himself and Mummy. Ice tinkled in the crystal glasses. I hadn’t touched mine. Papa cleared his throat several times. Mummy looked as though she was in shock. She spoke first.

  “This is out of the question, Sophia. Totally, absolutely, out of the question. We did not raise you to become a Papist, nor to raise Papist children. My God in Heaven! This man is not, nor could he ever be our caliber. We must forbid you to ever see him again.”

  I began to weep, but of course, it did nothing to soften my mother’s attitude. My father looked much the same. Mummy sat cold and silent. Papa didn’t move. “Sophia, we know that this hurts at the moment, and that it seems as though it’s the end of the world. However, you will survive I assure you. When you have met and married a suitable man, someday you will look back upon this and understand that we were correct. You must trust that your parents know better in this kind of situation.” Papa was trying very hard to say the proper words, but they sounded like he was reading from a book. I was discussing feelings, and that was something that neither of my parents understood.