Love and Marriage at Harpers, page 19
‘It wasn’t just for my sake that I stayed on in the States,’ Ben said from just behind her. ‘Yes, there were meetings that I had to attend, but there was another reason, a personal reason…’
‘You don’t have to tell me,’ she said hastily.
‘Don’t I, Sally Ross?’ Ben asked. ‘Are you telling me that you have someone in your life and so whatever I say doesn’t concern you?’
‘No, I don’t!’ Sally said quickly and then blushed. ‘I mean – it is up to you whether you want to tell me something private…’
‘Sally, I do want you to understand…’
Whatever Ben was about to say was interrupted by a bell and the shopping booths starting to close their doors.
‘It’s dinner time, I think,’ Sally said nervously, suddenly afraid of what he might say. ‘I didn’t expect to be hungry after that delicious tea, but I am – it must be the sea air, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, it makes me ravenous,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll talk later, Sally – we have all week. I’m sure we can find time to talk about important things at some point…’
‘Important things?’ Sally swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes and saw the warmth there. He did care for her! She couldn’t be wrong this time. Her instincts had told her right from the start that there was something between them, but always he’d drawn back. ‘Yes, I think we should, Ben.’
‘Quite soon.’
‘After dinner,’ Sally suggested and he smiled.
‘Yes, after dinner. We’ll take a walk round the deck – unless you want to see the show?’
‘No, I’d prefer the walk,’ she said, and her heart raced. ‘Besides, I think we need to talk properly – don’t you?’
Dinner was a delight. Sally wondered how the ship’s cooks managed to produce such a variety and cook it so well on board a ship. She’d never visited a galley kitchen but didn’t imagine it could be huge – not as big as some of the hotels in London, but the seafood starters, soup, steak and coffee mousse afterwards were delicious so they ate them all. Even the little almond finger presented with the coffee was crisp and tasty and she thought she’d hardly ever tasted better.
Afterwards, they went for a walk round the deck, listening to the sound of the waves breaking over the bows and looking into the dark sky, lit only by a few stars. From somewhere between decks, there was the sound of romantic music as a tenor sang of unrequited love.
‘It feels lonely out here on the sea,’ Sally whispered. ‘Don’t you think it must have felt terrifying for those men who first found their way across the ocean?’
‘I think seamen are rather tough characters and able to live within themselves,’ Ben said. ‘They must spend hours with little to do, especially when it was all sailing ships. At least now it has cut down the journey by weeks. To cross to America was a feat of endurance for those early settlers.’
‘Yes, it must have been…’
Sally could feel the tension in him as they approached the stern and stood against the high railings, looking at their creamy wake in the starlight.
‘What did you want to tell me, Ben?’ she asked and it was suddenly so natural to say his name. ‘I know something is on your mind…’
‘There’s no easy way to say it,’ he replied and she felt his unease. Something made her look up and she saw the play of emotions, sadness and grief and regret. ‘When I was nineteen I ran away to get married with a young girl I hardly knew. Maribel was lovely, a year younger, headstrong and foolish, and just back from school. I wasn’t much better. Her father worked in the wood yard mine owned – it was just one of our holdings and her family was nothing, which meant that our families would never agree to a match between us. We were in love, so we went anyway and we married in a little chapel in a town so small it was hardly a blip on the map – and at first we were happy…’
Sally drew her breath sharply as the pain struck. He was married… but then she saw his face and knew instinctively that the story didn’t end there.
Ben’s hands were on the railings. He was gripping so hard that his knuckles had turned white. She waited silently for him to go on, sensing that it was difficult.
‘Maribel was a wilful girl. I wasn’t the only man who’d wanted her, but she decided she wanted me. We returned to our homes to find the doors locked against us. My father disinherited me. Not that it mattered. I didn’t know it then, but his empire was failing. He was drinking too much and without me at home it got worse. He changed his will again in my favour when he knew he was dying, but there wasn’t much left of his fortune. If my uncle hadn’t given me a job, I would have had nothing…’
Sally waited, motionless, tingling. She knew he hadn’t reached the important part of his story yet and she sensed that he needed to tell it.
‘We started to quarrel within days of the wedding. Maribel didn’t like living in the wooden shack, which was all I could afford then. It was no better than her father’s and it made her angry. She threw up all the men at me that she might have married, men who owned small businesses. She’d chosen me because my father was rich, and she’d thought he would come round once we were wed, but he died owning very little but his personal trinkets.’ Ben drew a deep breath and Sally sensed that it was painful for him to continue.
‘It was raining the day it happened,’ Ben went on at last and his voice sounded forced. ‘We quarrelled, as we did most days. I took her into town. She wanted a new dress for the summer picnic. I gave her ten dollars – it was all I had and it wasn’t enough for the dress she coveted. I was tired of arguing and annoyed that I couldn’t give her everything she wanted and I snapped at her, told her she would have to make do…’ He took a deep breath. ‘She got out of the truck and ran across the road. It was raining and he didn’t see her… her own father was driving like a madman and he struck her. She went flying through the air, landed on her head…’
‘Oh no, that’s terrible…’ Sally took a choking breath as the tragedy of it hit her.
‘If she’d died, I think it would have been easier on us all,’ Ben said and each word was forced out in a flat tone that hid the ragged grief. ‘She lived for years in a kind of coma, sometimes waking but often dazed, just lying in bed staring at nothing. I don’t think she knew any of us, though sometimes when she saw me her eyes would glaze over and she would start to scream. Somehow, she blamed me for how she was, paralysed and…’ He shook his head, unable to finish. ‘She must have gradually remembered a part of what had happened to her, though the doctors denied it – but I knew she blamed me.’
‘That wasn’t fair…’
Ben hadn’t heard her, or if he had, he didn’t answer, continuing in the same flat voice: ‘Her father drank himself to death. He couldn’t bear what he’d done and I swore at him, called him a fool and accused him of knocking her down on purpose. Of course, I knew he hadn’t, but I had to accuse someone. He blamed himself and his way out was to drink. It killed him slowly but still she didn’t die, lingering on, her pitiful state an accusation to us all.’
‘That must have been so hard…’ Sally felt the knife twist in her heart as she understood how his wife’s pain had hung over him like a black cloud.
‘It was hard to find the money to pay for her care. I didn’t tell anyone I was paying for her to be in an expensive nursing home. Jenni didn’t even know she was paralysed, because I never told my family about the accident, only that she was delicate and didn’t want to see people. Jenni was away at school and then she went to work for my uncle in New York. Uncle Gerry gave me a job when I swallowed my pride and asked, and I managed to keep my wife in the best place available. Eventually, my father came to me and offered what he could afford, but I was too proud to take it. When he died, what little he had was left to me and I bought a few shares in my uncle’s business. Then my uncle decided to give me the management of the London store and you know the rest.’
‘Oh, Ben,’ Sally breathed. ‘I’m so sorry…’
‘Maribel took a turn for the worse last year. I returned home and went to see her in the nursing home. She seemed to know me then and she wept pitifully. Jenni visited her once just before she died. She’d never been until then, didn’t know what Maribel was like. She’d never known the whole story until I told her recently…’ Ben shook his head as if to clear it of painful memories.
Sally didn’t know how to answer him. Suddenly, the things that had hurt her became clear. She understood why he could not offer her marriage.
‘Maribel died a few weeks ago,’ Ben said. ‘I spent time with her until the end, Sally. I still felt guilt that a beautiful girl had become the pale wretch lying in that bed, because it was our quarrel that put her there. She’d hated me for a long time, but at the end she clung to my hands and cried. I think she remembered somehow, though the doctors said her mind had gone…’
‘Doctors are not always right,’ Sally said. ‘I’m sorry for all the pain – hers and yours. It was a terrible thing to happen…’
‘Yes, awful,’ Ben acknowledged. ‘For a long time we hoped she might recover… she seemed better sometimes, but it never progressed to a recovery.’
‘So she is at peace now,’ Sally said and the thought came unbidden to her mind. If his wife was dead, he was free to love again and to marry if he chose.
‘I believe so. She was smiling in her coffin.’ Ben turned to her and his face was twisted with grief and regret. ‘She looked so beautiful and I knew it was how she should always have looked – and I still torture myself over what happened.’
‘You didn’t knock her down.’
‘No, but I was angry and that made her reckless. She ran across the road in temper and…’ He shuddered. ‘I’ve relived that moment so often, wishing I could make it not happen.’
‘Everyone thinks that when accidents happen,’ Sally said and moved towards him. ‘It truly wasn’t your fault, Ben. Maribel was old enough to know she was behaving foolishly. She should have known that you would have given her all you could…’
‘So you don’t think I’m a heartless monster?’ He smiled oddly. ‘Her mother called me that once because she’d heard I was sleeping with a woman. I let her call me names and left her to weep by her daughter’s bedside. The next day she came to me and begged me not to stop paying Maribel’s fees. Her husband had told her that if I didn’t pay, her daughter would be in her charge because he couldn’t pay for her care.’
‘You did what you could…’ Sally said. She slipped her arms about his waist, wanting to take the look of despair from his eyes, no thought of her own feelings in the action. ‘Don’t you think you should forgive yourself, Ben?’ she asked sympathetically.
‘Yes, and I have – at least most of the time. I couldn’t change what happened and I did what I could…’ He looked down at her and then bent his head. Sally lifted hers for his kiss. ‘I love you… but I think you know. I wanted to tell you about Maribel long ago but couldn’t…’
‘I love you,’ Sally said softly. ‘I didn’t know you before, but I do now and I love you even more…’
‘What about Mr O’Sullivan?’
Sally smiled up at him. ‘Mick is just that,’ she said. ‘He has been a good friend to me and I like him – but liking isn’t loving, is it?’
‘No, it isn’t,’ he agreed. ‘So – what are we going to do, Sally Ross?’
‘What do you want to do?’ she asked and pressed herself closer to his body, inhaling the scent of him. ‘I think we should go back to your cabin…’
‘Oh, Sally…’ Ben murmured and held her closer. ‘I was going to ask you to marry me when I got back, but then I saw your friend kiss you and you ran through the rain to your door. I was torn between anger and fear and that made me draw back. I would rather you were happy with him than dead…’
Strangely, Sally understood what he meant. Seeing her run across the road in that downpour had taken him back to Maribel’s accident and that had made him fear for her. He’d been angry the next day when they met, because he’d thought she cared about Mick.
‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘Come back to the cabin and we can talk more…’
Sally nestled up to Ben’s warm body, feeling the strength of him and sighed with contentment. She knew that this was where she was meant to be and even if he had not promised her marriage, she would have been happy. It was the first time that Sally had lain with a man, though she knew there had been others for Ben, but only one who had meant anything. Maribel’s shadow was still there somewhere in the background, but for the moment she had been banished and Sally knew she was loved as he kissed her throat and stroked her naked back with his hand.
‘I love you so much, Sally,’ he murmured. ‘I want us to be married soon…’ Sally murmured her acceptance as she arched for his kiss and held him tight. ‘I have a ring for you, my darling – I’ve had it for a while…’
‘Oh, Ben…’ Sally’s eyes were moist with tears. ‘I can’t believe I’m so lucky.’
‘I want you for my wife so much, so very much,’ he murmured huskily.
‘And I long to be yours,’ she whispered, as he drew her into his arms again. ‘I can’t announce our engagement before Beth’s wedding,’ Sally said. ‘I want her to have her moment of glory and to be there for her – and then we’ll tell everyone we’re engaged. Do you want to wait for Christmas or marry sooner?’
‘I’d like to do it properly this time, which means Jenni needs to be told and to come over for the wedding,’ he said and smiled as she looked up at him. ‘So perhaps a Christmas wedding, even though I would rather it was tomorrow. If I pleased only myself, I would marry you in Paris…’
‘We’ll wait for a while,’ Sally said. ‘Rachel will need time to find someone to share the rent with her. Beth is leaving and if I do too… she won’t manage it alone…’
‘We can promote her to floor walker,’ Ben said. ‘Mrs Craven has been recommended to me by Mr Stockbridge to take Miss Hart’s place, so I think that would help with the finance side – but I agree that we need time to do things properly. You should visit my apartment and see if it suits you. Perhaps we should find somewhere else? I can arrange a bridging loan…’
‘A move would be expensive and you put everything into the store,’ Sally reminded him. ‘There will be time later to think of a house with a garden…’
‘My apartment has a small garden,’ Ben said. ‘Adequate for a while I think…’
‘Yes, I’m sure of it,’ Sally said, and snuggled up to him again, bringing a little moan from him and his kiss on her lips once more. She wound her arms about him, giving herself to him without reserve. Loving Ben was as natural as breathing and she felt a thrill of desire as she felt the lean hardness of his thigh against hers. He knew exactly how to make her body sing with pleasure and she was eager for him to bring her to that blissful state once more.
They explored Paris together, walking the ancient streets and little alleys, taking trips down the Seine in the small boats that were for hire. Artists were seated by the bank, drawing views of the city in the hope that tourists would buy from them, but Ben asked one to draw Sally and declared himself delighted with the result.
‘We’ll have your portrait painted one day,’ he promised, ‘but this is very like you, my darling. He has captured your smile and the look of mischief in your eyes…’
Sally felt happier than she could ever recall.
They spent some hours in the various workrooms and showrooms, watching models displaying the current collection for winter and autumn 1913, and sometimes being given a sneak preview of the spring collection for 1914. Sally ordered some suits and a few evening gowns from the winter collection but asked if some samples of the spring collection could be sent to her as soon as they were ready. Drinking coffee in a little café, they talked endlessly about their plans for the future, for the store and themselves.
‘I want to work for a while,’ Sally told him. ‘Don’t ask me to be a housewife yet, Ben.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he smiled at her. ‘Do you know how lovely you look sitting there in the sun – the sun suits you, Sally. I think we shall come to France every year for a holiday. You blossom in the warmth and Paris suits you, too.’
He was right. Sally drank in the beauty of the ancient buildings, revelling in the atmosphere of the old quarter and enjoying the beautiful churches as much as the cafés where music was played at night.
A greetings telegram was sent to Jenni, telling her of their marriage and asking her to visit for the wedding at Christmas. Ben’s sister was important to them both and they wanted to give her plenty of time to make her arrangements. Ben also telegraphed his aunt and cousin, inviting them, though he told Sally that he did not think either would come.
‘My aunt hates travelling – and my cousin doesn’t much like me…’ Ben said. ‘So I shan’t expect them – though Uncle Gerald’s wife may send a gift…’
Ben had given her a beautiful diamond ring the first evening they were in Paris and formally asked her to marry him. Sally had accepted, and was wearing it on her left hand.
‘I shan’t tell anyone when we get back, not immediately,’ she reminded him, ‘but even when I take it off, I’ll still be wearing it in my mind and heart.’
Ben nodded. He never argued during those sunlit days. He was a different man, always smiling, happy and eager to show her everything. Sally could have asked for the moon and he would have tried to get it for her, but all she wanted was to be with him and to make love every night.
‘I shall miss this when we get home,’ she told him on the eve of their departure. ‘I’m tempted not to wait to arrange the wedding and yet I want to…’
‘We shall wait,’ he told her and kissed her lips. ‘You taste of champagne…’ He ran his tongue over his mouth. ‘Hmm, lovely.’
Sally laughed and leaned towards him, kissing him again. ‘Let’s go for a last walk in the moonlight,’ she said, ‘and then we’ll go to bed…’
