In late March I traveled to London, under the pretense of a shopping trip. However, the true reason was to visit an obstetrician. I didn’t elaborate to the London doctor upon the length of my marriage. I merely recounted the fact that I’d not had my monthly menses since mid-October. Upon examination, he verified what I already knew. He pronounced the due date as 2, August. He stated that I was young and healthy, and that he expected an easy pregnancy and routine birth. Once that ordeal was behind me, I eagerly looked forward to enjoying a few days shopping in Knightsbridge, visiting with friends, and dining with Drew and Annie. It was the first time I’d stayed in the flat on Sumner Street. The neighborhood was excellent and the building very fashionable. Thus, I wasn’t in the least frightened of being on my own in London, even though it was a new experience. I had such a good time on that short visit. I learned what it was like to enter a fashionable shop, and make my selection without ever having to worry about the manner of payment. All that was required was my giving the name ‘Lady Winnsborough’, and any purchases were immediately sent to Winnsborough Hall, and placed on account. I’d been used to similar service before, as Lady Sophia Somerville, but I was literally fawned over as Lady Winnsborough. I had never been impressed with that sort of treatment, but had to admit it was rather fun. Annie and Drew hosted a lovely small dinner party in my honor during my visit, where I was able to catch-up with a few old friends, and we also attended a new play that had recently opened, ‘Blackbirds’, at the Adelphi Theater.
After a week away, I was rather glad to return to Winnsborough Hall, ready to talk with my husband about my pregnancy. We had been married two months at that point, and I knew that it was time to inform Owen that he was to be a father. It was undoubtedly going to be the biggest shock of his life, which was not surprising considering the circumstances. Upon my return home, Owen and I sat in front of the fireplace in the drawing room at Winnsborough Hall. I began a conversation about my visit to London. I’d been there the entire week. We chatted about inconsequential matters, and I told him of various things I’d done during my trip. Then we discussed the upcoming coronation of Edward the Eighth, scheduled for 12 May, 1937.There was no question that the coming year would be one of grand festivities before the Coronation. We would be on the guest lists for many glittering events. When Owen finally paused in his discussion of the much-anticipated splendor surrounding the crowning of a new King, I seized the opportunity.
“Owen, dear, there’s something I need to speak with you about, and it’s extremely important,” I began.
“What is it, Sophia?” he asked, looking at me as though he had only just realized that I was in the room. There seemed no point in mincing words. I had carried the secret for such a long time, and was delighted that the moment had finally arrived to unburden myself.
“I’m going to have a baby,” I beamed.
Owen turned white and his voice shook. “What…? You are what…? What did you say, Sophia?”
“I said I’m...well, I mean, we are going to have a baby. You’re going to be a father.” I could not tell if he was pleased, angry, or perhaps a bit of both. He just sat there, looking like a bloodhound. “Owen. Say something,” I implored. He continued to sit in silence, and then shook his head as if to clear it. “Owen. Please. Say something. Anything.”
“I’m not certain what to say. Are you certain? I mean...Have you seen a physician?”
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I have. I visited a very fine obstetrician while in London this past week. He confirmed it. There is absolutely no doubt, Owen.”
“When... How... I suppose on our wedding night?”
“I suppose,” I echoed. As though there could have been any other time.
“Well... This is incredible. Just incredible. I daresay I’m bowled over.” He stood and put another log on the dying fire.
“Are you pleased?” I asked.
“Yes... Yes. It’s just so unexpected.”
“Well, I assumed you wanted children eventually. I know this wasn’t planned, and that you said that we should wait until I was older, but truly Owen I’m very pleased.”
“Yes, well... Quite. That is the important thing, I should imagine. You will be the person to go through the having of the baby. Naturally, I’m pleased at the thought of producing an heir.”
“Or an heiress.”
“Yes, I suppose that could be too,” he responded, not altogether enthusiastically. “When will this child be born?” He enquired.
“The doctor thought somewhere around the middle of October,” I lied. I’d counted carefully and knew when the birth date would have been if I had not already been pregnant four and a half months. I was planning the visit to Paris to see Edwina in mid-July, when Owen and everyone else would think I was pregnant six months. Edwina and I had every detail organized to perfection. “I shall go on my holiday to Paris in July, and be home in plenty of time to have the baby here at Winnsborough Hall.”
“Will it be safe to travel, do you think?”
“Oh, dear, yes. This is 1936, after all! Women don’t go into seclusion because they are expecting a child.”
“Well, I’ll leave all of that to you and your physician” he replied. “Feeling all right, are you?” He was finally starting to make comments that were more appropriate.
“I feel splendid. Very well.”
“I’m glad... I should feel beastly if I caused you to be ill.”
“Don’t be a goose. I am extremely happy to be having this baby. I want you to be happy too.” I could not help but think of the reaction that I would have received if I’d been telling the same news to Spence. I knew that there would have been kisses, hugs and exclamations of joy. “It will be such fun to re-decorate the nursery. I don’t imagine there has been a baby here at Winnsborough Hall in a long while,” I smiled.
“No, not since I was born. It will need refurbishing. I’ll leave that up to you. Audrey will have my permission to draw whatever amount of funds are necessary to do it up properly.”
“Thank you, Owen. That’s very generous. I hope your parents will be pleased. Do you think so, Owen?”
“Oh, naturally. That is the entire purpose for marriage, of course. Especially in noble families. Parents always worry themselves sick over whether there will be an heir. I’m certain mine have. Yours too, undoubtedly.”
“Well, if your parents have been worrying, then they can relax,” I smiled. It wasn’t easy to smile, since I was simmering inside. That was certainly not the entire reason for marriage, as far as I was concerned. I’d thought Owen loved me, but now I began to think that an enormous mistake had been made. Perhaps his entire reason for marrying me had been to produce an heir. However, that made little sense to me either, since it was impossible to produce an heir, if one didn’t plan on having sexual relations.
“Owen, I wish you would show a bit more joy at my news. This should be a splendidly happy moment.”
“I’m sure I shall once I adjust to this news,” he stated, in a rather mundane manner. “I’m just imagining how having a child will change our lifestyle. Of course, we shall have a nanny. I am not a great believer in parents being overly involved in their children’s lives.”
Conversely, I believed very strongly that parents should be exceedingly involved in a child’s life. Nevertheless, I didn’t argue with Owen. It was clear that fatherhood was not a role he relished with enthusiasm. I would deal with his preferences when the baby actually arrived. There was silence between us, and after a few moments he said, “Shall we go in to dinner?” as though nothing whatever had changed.
***
He maintained the same rather disinterested air throughout the summer, which was a bit puzzling to me. If anything, he seemed rather embarrassed by my condition. He would never put his hand on my abdomen to feel the baby kick or listen for the heartbeat. It hurt my feelings a bit when he stayed away from Winnsborough Hall practically all of the time, preferring to spend time in London. At times I even won
dered if he had a mistress, since he certainly had no interest in me. While I had no interest in him physically, I knew that our relationship was simply not normal. Since it was my intention to spend the rest of my life with him, I sometimes became very anxious at the thought that we were destined to live more as brother and sister than husband and wife. I was only nineteen, and it perplexed me that he didn’t seem to find me at all desirable. Eventually, I hoped to have other children as the years progressed, but saw scant chance of that happening. I might have attributed his behavior to my being pregnant, had there been any sign of sexual attraction before the announcement of my condition, but there had not been. I just did not know what to make of it, nor how to deal with it.
In May, we traveled to Scotland for Blake’s marriage to Lady Susan Feemster, a Scottish girl he had met while on a business trip for Somerville Ltd. I suspected that they’d engaged in an extra-marital affair, but whatever the case, Blake was divorced from Elizabeth in short order. I felt dreadfully sorry to lose her as a sister-in-law. It goes without saying that my parents were delighted with Blake’s choice for a second wife. The wedding reminded me of what I expect my own might have been, had I married the man I truly loved. Susan was resplendent in a white organza gown, and Blake seemed very happy. I was truly delighted for him, though I can’t say that I was overly fond of Susan. She had a rather supercilious attitude, and gave off the impression that truthfulness was not her strong suit. I’d not spent a good deal of time around her, but she was quite ‘full of herself’, and prattled on about her supposed impressive heritage. I had already caught her in several lies about her lineage, as well as her education. Blake’s two children by Elizabeth, Blake Jr., and Pippin, weren’t present for the ceremony, which seemed somewhat odd to me. Later I learned that they had never even been told that the marriage was taking place. However, I had seen a change in my brother, and prayed it was lasting. Susan was attractive, in a tarty sort of way. She had enormous breasts, and was very blonde... what we called in those days, ‘bottle blonde.’ Blake made quite rude jests about her firm, rounded ‘bum’, and I wondered if that wasn’t the primary attraction for him. No matter. Mummy was at her best, since all of us children were properly married to suitable mates. I even speculated upon the possibility that the rages of my childhood might be past. If only memories could be erased so easily.
Blake and Susan left on a wedding trip to Italy, and Owen and I returned to Winnsborough Hall, and the odd life that had become routine. Of course, I didn’t speak of, nor give any indication to my family that our marriage was anything other than normal and happy. Everyone had been exceptionally pleased at the surprise announcement of my pregnancy. The last thing I wanted was any hint that we were living an exceedingly strange life. I was certain that my mother would blame me for the loveless union. We continued in such a manner, and I could not say that I was terribly unhappy. I enjoyed having a home and discovered quite a knack for roses as well as other garden flowers. I spent whole days working with the soil, feeling the warm sunshine on my skin, which never burned because of my olive coloring. It was delightful to be able to plan dinner menus each day with Mrs. Whittaker and it was pleasant to dress for dinner each evening in an enchanting gown, selected from the vast collection in my wardrobe. Owen and I often entertained other couples from the surrounding area. He was very generous with me. I had no complaints, but for the lack of a physical relationship... And, the lack of love, which obviously, nothing could be done about.
Finally, on one of my monthly visits to the Obstetrician, I gathered my courage and asked if it was normal for my husband not to want physical relations. The doctor said that it wasn’t unusual for a man to feel reluctant to perform sexual acts with a pregnant woman, and that most likely Owen was afraid of hurting the baby or me. He counseled me to be patient. I didn’t tell him that there had only been one sexual encounter since our marriage, and that my husband didn’t remember that single occurrence. I decided to hope the doctor was correct, and not to say anything until after the baby’s birth. I shall always wonder what might have happened if I’d stuck to my original plan, and waited until after the baby’s birth to speak to Owen.
***
In July, I felt as though I’d reached a breaking point. Perhaps it had to do with hormones. I simply knew that something was definitely amiss, and I needed to find out what it was. Owen was once again in London, and I was once again home alone. I would be leaving on my trip to Paris in just two weeks. I decided that I wanted to get things settled before I left. On impulse, I decided to surprise Owen at the flat on Sumner Street, where he was staying. If he was having an affair then I would deal with it. I didn’t really care if he had a mistress, but felt that I had a right to know what I was facing, and what the future held.
I took the afternoon train to London, arriving about seven o’clock in the evening. I had no problem finding a taxi, and within a few moments was paying the driver while the door attendant handled my overnight case. He knew who I was, so there was no need to ring the apartment to announce my arrival. I simply walked over to the lift, entered the number for our floor, ascended, and came to a halt in the black and white marble foyer of the apartment. In front of me stood the double doors leading into the parlor. When I opened the doors, I had no idea what to expect. There seemed nothing amiss. A small fire was burning in the marble fireplace and two half-empty snifters of brandy were on the tea table. It appeared that Owen had company, but apparently they had left to dine. There was soft music playing on the wireless. For some reason I felt shaky and all undone. However, I had perfectly prepared to put my plan into action, so in spite of my nervousness I swiftly moved down the hallway that led to one of the three bedrooms. The master suite was at the end of the corridor, and I knew that Owen would be sleeping there. I chose the room closest to his, and settled myself in the sitting area overlooking Sumner Street. From that vantage I could see anyone who came or left the building. My patience was rewarded. For in less than three quarters of an hour I spied two figures emerging from a taxicab, and entering the building. All of my senses alerted when I heard the lift, followed by low laughter. Owen and his companion entered the flat. It was positively my husband’s voice, and he was definitely not alone. I silently crept down the hallway, taking extreme caution not to make any sound that would alert them to my presence. The door to the parlor was partially open, and I could distinctly hear their conversation.
“Well, darling, I certainly enjoyed myself tonight, though it was beastly having to keep from touching you. There’s the trouble with having dinner at elegant restaurants. They don’t take kindly to overt affection,” his companion’s voice said.
”I know. I wanted you so badly all night; I thought I couldn’t bear it,” Owen laughed. Yes, dinner was lovely, but I’m awfully glad to be back here, where we can relax and enjoy one another.”
“I was aware that you desired me, sweetheart.”
Really? And what made you aware of it?”
“Darling, your trousers gave you away. I think the waiter must have noticed the ‘bulge’.”
Was this the man I was married to? My husband? He, who had never shown the slightest interest in anything of a sexual nature, was now bantering back and forth in a suggestive, risqué, manner.
There was silence for a few moments, and it was obvious that they were embracing. I could hear movement on the sofa, and then the rustling of clothing. “Ummmm...you taste delicious. I really am quite in love with you. I cannot bear the thought of seeing you so infrequently once that bloody baby comes. I don’t see you enough as it is.”
“I know. I know. We shall work something out. If you would only agree to my employing you at Winnsborough Hall, I could see you daily. Just think, every night we could be together. I would no longer have to make such frequent trips to London. It’s going to become more and more difficult.”
“But I would be sharing a house with your wife and baby, feeling second-rate. I couldn’t take that, darling. Can’t you just
continue the trips to London after the baby comes?”
“I would like nothing better. However, my father is adamant that I spend more time at Winnsborough Hall once that little brat arrives. He feels that it‘s unfair for Sophia to be alone so much. Since my parents practically forced me to marry, I don’t see why I should care at all whether Sophia is alone. On top of that, she obviously tricked me into this baby. I was so drunk. She took advantage of my condition.”
“I know, darling,” Owen’s lover continued. “I know you would never purposely have chosen to have a child.”
“Well, of course, that’s the reason my parents wanted a marriage so badly. It seems to me that now I’ve done my duty, and am about to produce a bloody heir, they would leave me to my own devices. The problem is, they are absolutely potty over Sophia. It’s getting harder and harder for me to keep our secret. I want to be with you. I want people to know about our love. I despise having to pretend to things I don’t feel for Sophia. Moreover, I absolutely cannot bear the thought of making love to her. Yet, I suppose that eventually she will begin to whine and complain if I don’t. Frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’t already. It’s a maddening dilemma.”
I had heard enough. I entered the parlor and switched on the overhead lighting. Owen was lying naked on the sofa. Next to him was a very attractive, rather small, and extremely effeminate young man, also unclothed. I must admit that such a thing hadn’t crossed my mind until I’d heard their voices. “Hallo darling,” I said, as though I’d come upon my husband at the breakfast table. My voice echoed in the silence. Both Owen and his lover were shocked and stunned. Owen’s face turned ashen. Obviously, he had believed that he was alone with his friend. That was why they had chosen the flat over the more elaborate surroundings of an elegant hotel.
Willow Grove Abbey: A Historical World War II Romance Novel (The Somerville Trilogy) Page 13
