“I killed my fiancée,” he said boldly. Georgie gasped and raised her hand to her mouth. He knew he could not sugar coat this in any way. Avoidance had not worked, every day he had felt worse and worse about deceiving her, and deceiving everyone else as to what had really happened to poor Alice.
“I think you should explain, and do it quickly,” Georgie said quietly. Marty could see that she was struggling to maintain her composure. He hated that he had been the one to cause her such pain.
“When I lived in New York, whilst I was at Princeton, I was engaged to a very pretty young woman called Alice. She was sweet and kind. And frail. I have never known anyone to be so unwell, so very often. Not surprisingly she was eventually diagnosed with consumption, and the doctors were fearful for her as they suspected that she probably did not have very long to live. She would never have had the strength needed to combat something so terrible. So few survive it, and those that do are always so much stronger than she was.” Marty could see that Georgie was already feeling for his poor, doomed Alice. She was right to. He deserved no sympathy, it should all be for Alice.
“I know we humans are excellent at convincing ourselves of our guilt for many things, but even you must know that you cannot be put at fault for Alice having consumption,” Georgie said compassionately. He shook his head, as if wanting to shake off her affections, her sympathy.
“No, you do not understand. I do not blame myself for that at all. Like you Alice enjoyed to drive in the countryside. She was always the passenger, she never had the strength to actually drive a pair of horses. But I bought the phaeton for her. To make her last days the happiest they could be I would take her driving every day, even though her Mama thought me reckless. We would drive as fast as Allegro and Scherzo could go. She named them in truth, and she had hair the exact same nut brown shade. She would often complain that their coats were glossier than her hair, but I never saw that. I saw only her big brown eyes, and that I would soon lose her forever.”
“That must have been unbearable. You must have cared for her very deeply.”
“I did. I loved her, with all my heart.”
“But, your actions do not sound like those of a man who would kill a woman Martin,” Georgie said, a tone he could not quite make out in her voice. She was not harsh, not exactly, but it was as if she was running out of patience with him. He felt his heart break again, and this time it seemed so much harder to bear than ever it had when he lost Alice – because this time it was incontestably his own fault. He had lost her, and he would have to learn to accept that.
“Georgie, I took her out driving every day. One day we got caught in a storm. I bundled her up in blankets, and drove the phaeton back to town as quickly as I possibly could to get her back into the warm, into the dry safety of her home. As you know the carriage has no roof. I should never have taken her out. The clouds had been looming all morning, but she begged me. I could deny her nothing. By the next morning she was gone. It was all my fault. I should never have taken her, should have been stronger, should have never let her talk me into it. But I did, and because of it she died.” As he heard the words he had so long kept inside burst out from within, he felt a cathartic burst of tears flood down his face. He did not expect or want comfort from Georgie, he did not deserve it. So he was stunned when he felt her warm arms wrap around his body, her hands encouraging him to bury his head in her neck. He sobbed, and sobbed until he had no more tears. She crooned and rocked him tenderly.
“You poor, poor man,” she said over and over. “It wasn’t your fault. She was so very unwell. You did everything you could to make her happy, and she died content in your love, secure in the knowledge that you would do anything for her. Few women ever know a love so selfless. Your Alice was blessed, and though I know you will never believe me, you did not kill her my darling. You did not kill her.”
“Her parents would not even let me attend the funeral. They blamed me. My own parents blamed me. Everybody in New York shunned me.”
“I am sure that is not true. I know this question may sound trite, but did you ever ask any of them?”
“No, but I knew,” he said stubbornly, knowing even as he said it how foolish he sounded.
“Do you know what I am thinking right now?” she asked him seriously.
“Of course I don’t, but I would not blame you for despising me,” he said weakly.
“Pshaw,” she spat. “Men can be the most ridiculous fools. If you cannot read what is in my thoughts, what makes you think that you have guessed correctly about everyone else’s? As a matter of fact I was thinking of how terribly you have managed to hurt yourself my love.”
“You mean you do not despise me?” he asked hopefully. He was sure that she would never wish to be his wife after his revelations, but if he could at least retain her friendship. No, he would settle just for her not hating him.
“Martin Shaw, I love you. I could never hate you, though I am sure that in the course of what I hope will be a very long, and happy life together that there may be times when I won’t like you very much, I could never despise you my darling.” He looked at her, amazed that she could have said such a thing. Her eyes were smiling, and her smile was warm. He gazed at her, as a drowning man must do at his rescuer.
“I was so afraid you would hate me, as everyone else did,” he admitted. “And I love you so very much too.”
“It will take more than your stupidity to make me leave you. If you truly had killed poor Alice that might have been enough,” she teased him, kissing away the last of the tears that trickled down his cheeks. She took his face in her palms. “I think we need to send some letters to your family, to Alice’s family and to your old friends my love. We have a wedding to invite them to.”
“They won’t come,” he said adamantly.
“They might,” she said. “And if they do, you can ask them outright as you just did me.”
“I couldn’t possibly,” he exclaimed. She put a finger to his lips.
“Shh, don’t be silly. Of course you can.”