The train had started to move and I cried out in alarm.
“It had to be,” said Gervaise. “It’s the only way. I was absolutely cleaned out.”
“What of Madame Bougerie’s bill?”
“I’ll send her the money.”
“But you didn’t explain.”
“How could I? She’d never understand. I’ll write.”
“What will she think?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Listen to me,” he said. “It was the only way. I paid last week. It is only one week owing. It was lucky about the luggage. That’s what gave me the idea last night. It is better to do it this way. There would have been a terrible fuss. Goodness knows what would have happened. I could never have got it over to her. You know she thinks she understands English.”
I sat back in my seat staring at him in horror.
“Thank goodness we had our return tickets,” he said. “You see, it all worked out.”
“Gervaise,” I said. “How could you? It is cheating, it is stealing …”
“No,” he said. “She’ll get the money. I’ll see that she gets it.” I sat down helplessly. I felt covered in shame.
No one is perfect. I must never forget his loving tenderness. I would always remember the first night of our marriage when he had miraculously lifted me out of my terror, when he had freed me from that haunting specter. Never, never must I forget that. And this … it was something they had warned me of. It was why my father had made some complicated arrangement about the settlement. I must do something. I could not allow us to cheat. I thought of the horror there would be in Madame Bougerie’s face when she realized her guests had left … without paying. How could he have done it … and in such a lighthearted way!
He might send the money in time. He would probably send more than he owed to make up for what he had done. But that was not the point. The money must be sent without delay.
I must do something.
The thought preoccupied me all the way home. Gone was the magic of the outward journey. Gervaise realized and was contrite.
“If I had known how much it was going to upset you,” he said, “I would have thought of something else.”
“There wasn’t anything else. You had gambled with the money which was really Madame Bougerie’s. It’s dishonest, Gervaise.”
“Not if I pay it back. I’ll send her extra for the trouble.”
We were staying at the Mandeville town house until we had a home of our own. There was no one to greet us because we had come earlier than had been expected. I was glad of this. I did not want to have to give explanations.
I would not rest until I had sent the money to Madame Bougerie.
I did know that the money my father had settled on me was to be kept in my name and that the capital could not be touched without the agreement of my parents. I was to get an income which would be paid to me. This had been agreed between my family and the Mandevilles. The income would not be large and I had not yet received the first installment. I needed money quickly and I knew approximately how much and it must be a little more because of the trouble we had caused. I wrote and asked my father for it.
It came almost at once. He guessed that I had had expenses on my honeymoon. I was relieved. I went to the bank and discovered I could change English money into French; and it was mailed off immediately to the auberge. I wrote a note apologizing for the trouble we had caused, explaining rather vaguely that we had had to return to England without delay, and if we had not caught that train we should have lost a day, so we had had to take it. I humbly begged Madame’s pardon for what must have seemed inexcusable behavior.
When the money had gone off I told Gervaise what I had done.
He looked at me sadly: “I’m sorry, Angelet,” he said. “You see the sort of a man you have married. Do you despise me?”
“Of course not. But it seemed … so awful, I couldn’t bear it.”
“I know. You are so good … so honest.”
“I’m not. I’m not. But going off like that … Please, please, Gervaise, don’t let us do anything like that again.”
“We won’t,” he said fervently. “I promise we won’t.”
He had been so wonderful to me. I had expected too much. People were not models of perfection. In a way I loved him more for his weakness. It seemed to strengthen me. I was no longer the innocent young girl to be led and guided. I had my responsibilities; and I was going to look after him.
I would make him see the risks and follies of gambling.
I was very innocent still.
I had a letter from Madame Bougerie thanking me for the money. She had known, of course, that it must have been something pressing which had made us leave so unexpectedly and never for one moment had she put a wrong construction on this. She understood perfectly and she hoped we would visit the auberge again, when we should be very welcome.
I did not suppose for one moment that she had not suspected the worst of us, but that was the diplomatic way of dealing with the matter and Madame Bougerie would always know how to do that. However, the incident had been brought to a satisfactory close as far as the auberge was concerned; and I was sure, in my new role as my husband’s guide and helpmeet, that where money was concerned such a thing would never happen again.
I gave myself up to the pleasure of househunting. This was particularly agreeable because Morwenna shared it with me. It seemed the most delightful coincidence that we were in London, both recent brides, looking for houses which were being given to us by indulgent fathers.
We laughed over this and when one of us went to look at a house, the other was always there.
We inspected numerous residences. Some would be too small, some too large; some were too far from the center of town and neither Justin nor Gervaise would like that. There was, we discovered, a similarity between our husbands. They were both what were called men about town. Justin appeared to have a private income from his family; Gervaise had an allowance from his. So it seemed inevitable that we should, on so many occasions, become a party of four.
After much preoccupation with Adam doorways and spiderweb fanlights, Regency and Queen Anne, we found our houses. They were not far apart. Morwenna’s was Regency with a charming wrought iron balcony on the first floor; ours was of a slightly earlier period—small but a model of Georgian elegance.
Our parents came to London and we had a pleasant time shopping for the furniture, the Pencarrons and my parents vying with each other in what they wanted to do for their darling daughters.
It was a very happy and merry time; and both Morwenna and I were examples of newly wedded and decidedly contented wives.
Within a few months we were installed in our respective houses. Grace was naturally a great help and helped us choose colors for carpets and curtains, throwing herself into the project with the utmost enthusiasm; and the days sped by.
During this time the Prince Consort died. A feeling of gloom swept over the nation. Those who had been highly critical of him during his lifetime now saw him as a model of virtue. As for the poor Queen she was prostrate with grief and shut herself away, refusing to appear in public.
We dined often with Morwenna and Justin and they with us. Morwenna sang rather pleasantly and I played the pianoforte—not well, but adequately. Justin had quite a good tenor voice, and Gervaise sang out of tune which caused a certain amount of merriment. We enjoyed what we called our musical evenings, but we soon realized that the men were restive. They preferred to play cards which neither Morwenna nor I had any gift for.
We liked amusing games which did not require too much concentration and very often we would leave the men together. The first time I was amazed and a little disturbed to realize that they played for money.