Chapter three.
Rose Hockley's Tuesday morning was spent at a department store in town finding new evening dresses for a dinner with her husband and some business associates which was due to happen that evening. Her personal maid Trudy had picked out rails upon rails of finery for her to choose from whilst her mother settled on an ivory and sapphire dress with matching heels. Shopping was one thing which most young females would rush into town to do but for Rose she couldn't think of anything worse. This was where all of the war happened; the battle of the dress and who wore it better. It was about the right fit, the most expensive lace and the entire charade. It was tiring and by the end of it Rose simply wanted to lie down.
Her dress was chosen in the end by her mother. It was a navy blue and quite simple for her mother's taste but still she went along with it, not because she had to but because she simply didn't have an interest in anything which was happening. The items were boxed up and were to be delivered that afternoon in time for dinner. She was relieved when the morning was over.
Dinner that evening was lively; Cal had invited dinner guests to eat at their new table. Rose played the part of the trophy wife and her mother was also in attendance. She felt like a young child at a table whenever her mother was around, waiting to be scolded even though it was her own dining table which they were at. Charles Schwab, was one of the wealthiest men in the area, he was known for his "fast lane" lifestyle including opulent parties, high stakes gambling, and a string of extramarital affairs producing at least one child out of wedlock. He was the leader of Bethlehem steel and an important man. The kind of man Cal hoped to be in his later years. He was joined by two colleagues Andrew Cooper and Stuart Miller.
Rose picked at her crab salad and that was only the starter, her mother's watchful eye constantly stabbing at her, just as it did when she was a child. The table spoke of steel, primarily the Hockley steel business. She was expected to stay quiet like a child, to be seen and to look dazzling but not be heard. She listened to the men brag in turn of their business and just how much success they were having. She tried to not yawn loudly and rudely but instead she tried to become involved in the conversation. She needed something to soothe her bored mind.
''So darling, just how is the business achieving?'' Rose sipped from her glass of wine with her eyes on her husband. Cal almost choked on his breadstick and the other men were just open mouthed. A lady did not question her husband's private matters.
''Rose, we don't need to discuss this here.''
''But we do, you know how much interest I have in these matters.'' She turned her attention to the table. ''In fact, just yesterday I visited the factory myself.''
''But the place is not suitable for young women.''
''I am sorry you think that way, Mr. Schwab.'' She smiled toward her husband. ''Of course Cal was surprised initially but I think he agreed just how important it is to see a woman out of the house and taking an interest in other things such as her husband's work.''
''Yes, I was, surprised.'' He spoke low.
''I was also fortunate enough to meet some of the employees. Some fine men you have there, darling.'' She touched Cal's hand on the table. Mr. Schwab's eyes watched uncomfortably, but also with amusement. She certainly was a fine wife. Her mother was dying a little inside. ''Did you know my husband does all of the hiring and firing himself? He has such a good eye for those workers.''
''Yes, my father and I keep a daily eye on the men.'' Cal confirmed. Perhaps Rose was steering this conversation in a great way.
''And how much do you pay them Mr. Hockley?'' Andrew Cooper, one of the men involved with Bethlehem steel piped in.
''That is no one's business but my own.''
''You won't share with us?''
''Gentlemen, please.'' Ruth smiled. ''Can we not enjoy this lovely meal without men discussing such things. Should you not wait until us ladies retire.''
''A fine point, Mrs. Dewitt Bukater.'' Mr. Schwab took a long sip from his wine. ''I do apologize.''
The table fell silent for several minutes and all that could be heard was the scraping of forks against plates as the starter meal was finished.
''So Mr. Hockley, any new developments with this fine house? Do you not hire help?''
''Yes of course. We have several maids, cleaners and such. In fact just this morning I hired a gardener. We need a fine back to comb this land.''
Rose raised her head. ''We have more help?''
''Yes. One of the men from the steelworks. His name is Jack something. One of the finest workers.''
''Oh.'' Rose lowered her lashes. She was lost in her own thoughts. She knew just who Jack was. They had flirted a little yesterday in the rose fields. Flirting was perhaps a little too much for a married lady to do but she needed some excitement in her loveless marriage. He was a beautiful man, almost primal instinct attracted her to him and it had been an unsettling evening for her to spend with him. Her husband of course knew nothing of this.
''Will his back cope with such a lot of land?''
''Only time will tell, he is a fine worker!''
Rose could see her husband's annoyance at the questions from these men. They may be more successful but they had no right to come into the house and question his authority.
''Mr. Schwab, I can assure you my husband hires only the finest young men.'' Her eyes froze on the steel tycoon. He raised his eyebrows as though he was admitting slight defeat. She would not have this discussion at her own dining table. She also knew her mother was seething.
''Quite a pistol you have here Mr. Hockley. She's a fine woman.''
Rose quietened down as they spoke of her as though she was a prized horse, a fine winner of many races and as though she wasn't even present. She allowed her husband to fight his own battles for the duration of the meal by the end of it, she had been ready to lay down.
Forty minutes later, the guests had left and her mother had retired to the guest room. Rose had called upon Trudy to help her undress for bed and now stood next to the vanity mirror. She wore a cream nightdress, lace to touch with nothing underneath. A pretty bow sat at the middle of her breasts as well as on the shoulder. Her hair cascaded down towards her waist, curling as it went. A king size dark oak bed sat in the centre of the room against the back wall as well as a large wardrobe space to match. A rocking chair sat in the corner beside the window and another chair was situated beside the bed. Cal entered the room and as soon as he did, he dimmed the lights. Catching a glimpse of his wife dressed in a peek-a-boo nightgown was almost too much for him. He had been pissed at dinner but now all anger vanished.
''For the love of…''He couldn't say much else.
''It's the new Lucile design. I had hoped you would like it.'' She whispered. Immediately he removed his jacket, flinging it over the rocker not caring what state it was left in or how expensive it had been. He came up behind her moving some strands of hair to the side and kissed her neck. Her nipples instantly hardened and goose bumps appeared all over her body. He stopped kissing her and glanced at her though the mirror.
''My beautiful Rose…'' He breathed in her ear. Reaching his rough hands downwards to cup her full breasts. She closed her eyes, not from pleasure but because she always did when he made love to her. She could feel his erection waiting to be freed. She reached her left hand behind her to touch it and he gasped in her ear, licking gently around the lobe. Still, she kept her eyes shut even as he turned her around and kissing her lips hungrily.
He removed his clothes, taking her to their marital bed and emptied himself within her time after time. She kept her nightgown on, her nipples sore from his bite, her nether regions even more sore from the evening's sex but still he wore on until the early morning. By which time, she was exhausted. He had tried to pleasure her, to keep her happy but in the end she moaned like an actress did and slept well into the next afternoon.
''Miss Rose.'' A knocking sounded on the bedroom door. ''Oh, Miss Rose?''
It was Trudy, her maid. Rose pulled the covers back from the bed and realised she was still wearing the nightgown which was see through. Her legs hurt from the positioning during last night's performance, the way he had plunged into her so much had left her sore but she moved through the pain and found a dressing gown to pull over her.
She went to the door.
''Oh thank Goodness. We were wondering just how ill you were.''
''But Trudy, I am not ill, I simply overslept.''
''But Miss, its after noon.''
Trudy entered the bedroom; she sat Rose at the vanity and began to brush her hair. She thought back to the night before. It was a blur or sex and wine. Her body ached, her thighs in particular. That was the thing about Cal; he always came more than once. Rose was his whore as well as his wife. She knew she could please him, but was it so hard to please a man? Women were a little more technical and he believed he had mastered it perfectly but he hadn't. It wasn't his lack of trying; it was her lack of willingness.
Trudy helped Rose to dress and both women were silent almost knowing that something was unspoken. Trudy knew of the love bites on Rose's body, the sucking marks and scratches. She also heard Cal's orgasmic moans but never Rose who simply sat staring into the mirror with a vacant expression. She was lost somewhere and Trudy didn't know what she was thinking. She continued her job silently; she knew not to say anything.
Once Rose was dressed in a sea green and nude day dress, Trudy proceeded to make tea leaving Rose alone with her thoughts. She saw herself through the mirror now transformed from a dishevelled girl into a lovely respectable looking Hockley wife. Trudy had even applied make up to cover the love bite on her neck which she could still feel the tenderness of when she moved her neck to the right side. She stood from the vanity and left her bedroom. As she walked down the stairs she could feel her legs rocking. The stairs spiralled downwards and she held onto the banister to steady herself. Trudy emerged from the large downstairs kitchen through a door next to the sitting room. She held a tray of tea and biscuits in her hand. At times like this, Rose was grateful for her personal maid.
The maids would be in there each morning at 7am, cleaning the brasses and ridding the place of crumbs before proceeding to make breakfast. Usually, as breakfast was served at 9am in the dining room, the beds would be made but now with the late lie in that would have to wait a while.
The sitting room overlooked the back garden. It was vast and ornate; one of the reasons Rose loved the outdoors. It was often used for playing croquet or tennis. The most beautiful part was the 'Rose Garden' which Cal had designed especially for his new bride. It was designed symmetrically as if it was a leaf, the paths representing the veins. The beds were densely planted with over 100 different types of old roses in cultivation before 1900, famed for their scent and beauty, such as 'Fantin-Latour', 'Queen of Bourbons' and 'Madame Knorr'. Along one flank of the Rose Garden was a long, crescent-shaped herbaceous border divided into nine sections by yew and planted with perennials.
Rose took a seat; her tea had been poured out for her, something which was never done when her husband was around. She smiled a little; she knew Trudy had sensed something was wrong from the way she had prepared the beverage for her. She put two sugar cubes into the teacup and watched the steam rise. The coolness of the room was lovely. She gathered it was another lovely day out as her eyes wondered to the windows.
''Your mother asked me to inform you of her absence this morning. She left at the first signs of light.''
''Thank you.'' She replied, absentmindedly.
She faced the large window which opened out onto a terrace where they hosted parties in the height of summer.
''Where did my husband go today?''
''Work, Mrs. Hockley. Then a business supper. He will be back after dark.''
''Very well. I shall eat supper alone.'' She stirred her tea slowly. '''Did Mr. Scott attend the meeting also?''
Mr. Scott was Cal's valet and advisor hired by his father to help him through his busy daily schedules.
Trudy came to dust the light switch, she mumbled as she cleaned and Rose could barely hear a word. ''Oh for goodness sakes, Trudy would you sit down for one minute?'' Rose snapped.
Never in her career had she been told to sit except by Rose. They were friends, they both knew that, but they kept their relationship professional too. Trudy took a seat on the wooden chair beside Rose. She felt lazy doing so but she did as she was told and honestly, she was glad of a slight rest.
''Now what did you say before?''
''Mr. Hockley and Mr. Scott had words this morning. I believe him to be fired.''
''Oh, my.'' Rose raised her eyebrows. Something must have happened.
''Also, I caught glimpse of the new gardener as I emptied the bins this morning.'' Trudy's face was serious. Rose glanced up to her, their eyes met and she saw the ends of Trudy's lips threatening a smile and suddenly both women laughed like naughty schoolchildren.
''And? What is the verdict Trudy?''
Trudy covered her lips with her fingertips. ''He is a fine specimen of a man!''