I said to him: “You have carried me with you up to Mount Olympus. I feel like a goddess now.”
He loved me, he said, and no one before had ever been loved as I was.
I could believe it. There was no room for anything in my life but the magical presence of Lynx. We rode together; we took meals alone in the library, we even played chess once or twice but he never allowed me to win.
I was gay and lighthearted, and so was he. He was a different man from the one I had first seen in this house; there seemed to be a glow about him—but perhaps that was because I was looking at him through the eyes of love. Once I awoke in the night after a bad dream and for a few moments thought I had lost him. I cried out in fear. And there he was bending over me, his arms about me.
“I thought you’d gone,” I said.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
I heard his laughter in the darkness, exultant, triumphant. I, who had been reluctant to marry him, was now in a cold sweat of terror for a few moments because I had dreamed I had lost him.
The house seemed different. I loved it. I wanted to live in it for ever and make it my home. Adelaide would have made no objections. I could make any changes, have anything I wished, provided it did not clash with Lynx’s desires.
“I will refurnish the drawing-room,” I said.
“I would like yellow curtains—but not too bright a yellow.”
“I know,” said Adelaide, ‘the colour of gold. “
“Not gold,” I cried.
“The colour of sunshine.”
I wouldn’t think about the future. The present offered everything I wanted. Now was the important time—not yesterday, not tomorrow.
“Although,” went on Adelaide, ‘since you are going away, will you want to refurnish? “
“I don’t want to go away, Adelaide.”
“It will be exciting for you.”
“Stirling won’t want to leave everything here.”
“Stirling will want to do as his father wishes.” She was looking at me and gently implying: And so must you.
I thought about it: to leave for England with Lynx and Stirling, to leave this wonderful world which I had just discovered to start on a voyage of discovery. Whiteladies . that girl on the lawn . the older woman. My husband could be a little fanatical with his plotting and planning. I would make him see reason, I promised myself again; but not yet. I was not going to spoil this honeymoon period with the clash of opinions which must inevitably occur.
I said nothing to Lynx of leaving the country. We laughed; we bantered; we were serious; we made love in many moods-light-hearted, tender, abandoned and passionate. I would not have believed there could be so many moods.
I was happy, saying: This is now. There has never been such a perfect time. Nothing must spoil it. I must cling to it, make it last for ever.
But nothing lasts for ever.
How tiresome people could be! It seemed that Jessica was deliberately trying to spoil my pleasure in life. When I passed her open door one day she called me into her room and I could not refuse to go although I should have loved to.
She was sitting in front of her mirror trying on my wedding veil.
“Where did you get it?” I asked.
“Ah, you didn’t miss it, did you? I just wanted to try it on.”
She looked incrongruous with her wild eyes and pale skeleton-like face; and she seemed to read my thoughts for she said: “I look like the bride in ” The Mistletoe Bough”. You know the story. She hid in a trunk and was locked in. They found her years later.”
“What a gruesome story!”
“I used to sing that song.”
I thought: Trust you!
“Perhaps it was as well for the bride that she was locked in the trunk.”
“What a thing to say!”
“Slow suffocation, I suppose. But she would soon be overcome by the lack of air. It wouldn’t take long. Better than a lifetime of suffering. I can’t tell you how Maybella suffered with her miscarriages. “
I turned away. I did not want to think of my husband’s first marriage.
I knew it had been a marriage of convenience for him. I made excuses for him—a proud man, a captive, wrongly accused; marriage was his only means of escape. I was glad that it had been such a marriage. I wanted no one else to have shared this passion which swept me along as though I were caught in a whirlwind.
Jessica took off the orange blossom and veil and underneath was the one with the satin niching. She had been wearing the two.
I said accusingly: “You put that in my room the night before my wedding.”
“Yes, I knew you’d like to have it.”
I thought: She prowls about my room on her own admission. I felt angry with her for prying; and then her helplessness struck me as pitiable and my anger subsided.
She was folding the veils carefully.
“I shall keep them both,” she said.
“I have a lovely sandalwood box.
There’s plenty of room in it. ” She looked at me obliquely. What was she implying? That one day there would be three veils in the box?
But I refused to be affected by a foolish woman whose mind was clearly not well balanced.
I left her and went into the library. Lynx was there, his eyes agleam with pleasure at the sight of me.
Lynx and I went to Melbourne in style. We drove in the special carriage he had had made for himself and we changed horses every ten miles at the coaching inns. He drove part of the way himself, and then how we sped along!
We lived in the grand suite in his hotel, and I was alone some part of the day when he was doing business. I was surprised that he did not take me with him but I realized later that it was because this business concerned his leaving Australia, and knowing my feelings about this, he did not wish to spoil our holiday.
We dined in our private suite and I was so happy that I refused to listen to the voice within which told me that there was another reason for this visit than simple pleasure.
But holiday it was. In the mornings we drove into the nearby country, out to Richmond and beyond along the Yarra Yarra, almost out to the Dandenong country. We went to concerts ‘d there were many invitations, most of which he declined; but he did give an evening’s entertainment at the hotel and the big dining-room was turned into a banqueting hall. There was supper and a concert to follow when a new pianist, who was much admired in Europe, was making his debut in Australia.
Wearing a white satin dress, my only ornament a diamond brooch and a ring with one enormous diamond, I stood beside him and received our guests. I was proud because I could see the great respect he inspired was not with his family only.
We were congratulated. I knew that eyebrows were raised because I was so much younger than he was. I wanted to explain to them that age was of no importance, particularly where Lynx was concerned. Lynx was ageless; I felt convinced then that he would live for ever—long after I was dead.
I sat listening to the pianist. Those haunting Chopin melodies would always remind me of this evening. There was something sad and wistful about them; I felt that they implied the transience of joy and happiness, the inevitable disillusion. How absurd! It was due to Jessica with her veils and boxes that I should have such thoughts.
Now he had gone into the Military Polonaise. That was stirring and lively and my spirits were lifted.
I heard two women whispering together.
“Lavish! No expense spared.”
“Expense! This is nothing. He’s many times a millionaire.”
“What luck! Trust him to get it. And so much.”
“Now he’s got this young girl and his fortune.”
I shouldn’t listen. I wished I hadn’t such acute ears. I was sure I heard someone say: “Do you think it will last?” And I shivered because it seemed as though Jessica was beside me, folding her veils neatly into a box in which there was plenty of room for more.