My Darling Love

Chapter 5 – Malice in the Palace

"A young lady is a female child who has just done something dreadful."

-Judith Martin

It was in no way the grandest house in all of London, but Mr. Baker did consider his home his castle. Not just any castle, but a palace, full of all his treasures that he valued above everything else in the world. One of his treasures was his only daughter, Mary Elizabeth. Mary's mother was a delicate creature, and almost died giving birth to her. Mary was a horrible breech, intent on coming out bottom first. It took Mrs. Baker almost a year to recover, and even though Mary was now eighteen, Mrs. Baker had still not returned to the woman she once was.

With her only daughter missing on her wedding day, Mrs. Baker did the only thing she could: she took to a chair by her daughter's bedroom window, overcome by misery. Mary's father was enraged, and sat at his desk, looking at the bills for a wedding that never was. Aunt Millicent, embarrassed and humiliated, refused to receive visitors, even those offering their sympathies. Mary's fiancé, the bigger fish, demanded his ring back and Mrs. Baker returned it. Mary had left it on the windowsill before she scaled the trellis to freedom and George.

The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Baker, along with Aunt Millicent, sat at the dining room table, waiting for their prodigal and shamed daughter to return. And she did, alone. She entered the home in an outfit that was purchased as her traveling attire for her honeymoon. Instead, it was to be the first outfit she dressed in with George's seed inside of her, taking root, waiting to bloom into a baby.

Her mother hung her head for she knew what was coming, hearing her husband threaten it all morning, "When that bitch comes back, I'm going to beat her until she bleeds." Mary's father wasted no time making good on his promise, and yanked her by the arm up the stairs and into her room, with Aunt Millicent on their heels shouting. "Don't hit her Joseph, you'll spoil her face!"

Mr. Baker stopped at the doorway to Mary's room, and for the first and only time in his life, he punched a hole clear through the wall, just to prove to his only daughter how serious he was. "You will stay in this room until you ask forgiveness for your sins. You will tell us where you went and whom you were with. I want you to know, Mary Elizabeth, that a wicked rumor has already been spread about you. That rumor claims you took flight with George Darling. If I learn that is correct, I will cut from him the part of his body that makes him a man!"

Mr. Baker pushed Mary into her room, not allowing her even a moment to explain anything of what she was feeling, and slammed the door, shutting her inside.

"If I had hit her, I would have killed her," Mr. Baker said to Aunt Millicent.

Millicent had been fuming that her brother had most likely bruised Mary's arm. "I do not want words to get around that you are abusive to your only daughter, Joseph. You know, Mary Elizabeth will not marry well if her suitor has to worry over your temper."

Mr. Baker eagerly assured his sister that her concern was unwarranted. "Suitors?" he retorted. "What man will want her now? I could tell by the look on her face when she walked in the door that she's been spoiled, and I'll bet George Darling was the man who not only thieved her from the bedroom but had a go at her as well! And I promise you she will die a spinster before I let her run away back to that scoundrel again! I would call the constables, but I would much rather deal with him myself..."

George went home to a different reception. No one noticed he was not home and no one inquired after his whereabouts. Only his father gave voice to his absence in the night when he walked in the house. Mr. Darling patted him on the back and whispered, "Good for you, George, I hope you had the prettiest little lady lay down for you last night. That's my boy, having your own party, celebrating that Mary Baker's wedding. But George, you only pay them to lay down, don't be paying extra to keep warm in a bed."

George had his tea quietly with his family and retired to his room for the rest of the day. His mother stopped in at nightfall and brought him up a tray of food for supper. She too had her own quietly spoken comment to her youngest son, "Now that you know what being a man is like, no need for you to make it a habit. But if you want to waste your hard-earned money frequenting prostitutes, do it so I don't have to know you're doing it. And take your clothes to the laundry. I am not washing some whore's perfume from your pajamas."

Mary had advised him against bringing her home to confront her parents. "I'll come to you, whatever you do, don't come over until I send word that it's alright. I love you. Remember, in the eyes of God, we are married, and you are my husband," she'd said before kissing his lips and hugging him tightly one more time.

George felt ill at ease, letting her take the brunt of his valiant effort, knowing her father's alleged nasty temper. "Perhaps they would be quicker to accept me if I did the noble thing and just confessed I was at your window, and that you would never have left, had it not been for me," George sighed, distressed that she seemed as concerned as he did.

"No, they don't know you were there, and I want it that way. Believe me, my love, you saved me yesterday. God forgive me, but the thoughts of escape that flooded my own mind..." She fell silent, not wanting to admit suicide was her escape. Instead, she offered him one more kiss before leaving him, saying, "Remember George, please do not come by unless I send for you." Being newly married, at least in God's eyes, he listened to his wife and heeded her advice.

When George had not heard from her in a week, he changed his daily schedule. Now he allotted extra time to travel to and from work, so he could pass by her house. Every day, he saw no sign of her, only the shades of her window closed and drawn.

Her father paid a handyman to put bars on her window, denying her that means of escape. Mary never apologized and never told them where she went or whom she was with, although they had their suspicions. For weeks on end, she lay in her bed in total darkness, and prayed.

Her parents, with the help of Aunt Millicent, pieced together the events of her wedding day. When they were sure of every detail, they confronted her as a hostile team to break her. "We know you were with George Darling, Mary Elizabeth. His own mother confirmed that he was not in their house that morning, and did not return home that night. He arrived late the next afternoon at approximately the same time you did. We also know you spent the day and the entire night with Penny and her husband. We assume George Darling was there with the sorry lot of you. Now Penny only has one bedroom, one parlor, a kitchen and a bathroom. So we know you either slept in her bed or on her parlor floor. Our only question, is where did George Darling sleep?" They could tell by the blank look on her face, they had concocted the truth.

"Do you want to know where he slept or do you want to know whether the asking price of my hand should be lowered?" Mary looked up to her father who glared down with his hands on his hips.

"His mother assured me he was with a whore that night, Mary Elizabeth, a filthy whore who wore cheap perfume. So where George Darling slept will tell me exactly how much you're still worth to your fiancé and to your mother and I as well."

"Wherever George slept, I slept with him, although we did not do much sleeping." Mary replied.

Her father raised his hand and slapped her face, rattling her jaw, "He spoiled you? I'll kill him. You hear me, Mary Elizabeth? I'LL KILL HIM?" Mary held her head high, even after being slapped hard by her father, the red welt now on her cheek.

"Why you ungrateful little tramp!" Aunt Millicent took care of Mary's other cheek.

A blow from her father she could accept, but not one from her Aunt Millicent. Her interrogation had her sitting on her bed with the group of them standing before her. As the redness became apparent on her other cheek, Mary stood and turned to Millicent, "Who are you to call me a tramp? I laid down with George because I love him, not because I wanted his money," she scoffed.

Another hand came down on Mary. This time, it was her mother, and Mrs. Baker was speechless after the assault simply because, in her anger, she punched Mary instead of lightly slapping her to get a point across. Shocked by her own harsh attack, she knelt beside her only daughter who had blood dripping from a split lip and begged her daughter's forgiveness.

"You either get out of my bedroom and leave me alone, or throw me out on the street and I'll fend for myself," Mary retorted as she yanked her arm away from her mother.

"Throw you out on the street?" her father bellowed. "I'll bet a whore like you would like that. I'd bet all the money in the bank you'd go running back to George Darling. No, you'll stay here in this room, as will your new reputation. This door will remained locked and no one will be allowed in or out until the scandal of your deplorable and contemptible behavior blows over," Mr. Baker commanded.

It was finished; no one spoke to her and no visited. Her food was left on a tray in the morning, all she was to have for the entire day, outside of her door. The maid would knock but not enter at night to collect her dishes.

Mary Elizabeth Baker, safely inside the sanctuary of her bedroom, knew something that no one else in world had ever imagined possible, not even George. After being locked away for only three weeks, she became aware of the absence of her August monthly. Not mindful of why it would not come when it was supposed to, she thought back to her mother's talk with her the night she became engaged. "My own adventure," she spoke to herself. Only a day late, she sat at her vanity and checked her reflection for a noticeable change. She undressed and stood bare in front of the full length mirror attached to her wardrobe door and rubbed her hand over her belly looking for some sign of life inside of her. She found none and felt disappointed. She knew it took Penny awhile to realize she was with child, and so with nothing else to do but wait, Mary did.

By September, over seven weeks late for August, she again looked and saw nothing. Well, almost nothing, for her breasts were quite swollen and painful to the touch. She wished for her monthly, and felt as if her menstruation was abound her any day, for she also had mild cramping that made her take to bed. She noticed a miniscule amount of browned blood on her underwear that only lasted a day or so before stopping. To be on the safe side, hoping to keep whatever it was that might be baby secured inside the sanctity of her womb she spent a week with her legs elevated above her head while lying on her bed, saying a prayer to the patron saint of expectant mothers. The tenderness of her breasts subsided and, oddly enough, as September came to an end, she felt like her old self again, with one exception, now she was tremendously tired from doing nothing all day but sitting by the barred window.

By October, with three months of confinement behind her, she saw for the first time the evidence she needed to prove her theory correct. Her favorite skirt, form fitting, would not close at the side. Her belly in the middle, normally flat as a board, suddenly became misshapen overnight, with a tiny bump only visible when she was naked. As long as she had been locked away, she had been nauseated, and vomited frequently when she ate, but thought it was because the food she was served perhaps spoiled from sitting out all day. Now, even the thought of food made her sick. She knew her parents would be eating a hot meal downstairs, for the aroma that drifted up the stairs sent her running for her chamber pot to vomit.

The cramping had stopped and now she swore there was a peculiar fluttering at night when she held a pillow to her stomach. She stayed up well into the night, each night conversing with George's baby by pushing down on her belly and waiting for whatever it was, boy or girl that grew inside of her to respond. Soon, as time went on, it did. Counting the months from the time George had claimed her virginity Mary put the baby's arrival date in April. Instead of praying for freedom and understanding from her parents, Mary now prayed for a beautiful baby girl that looked just like her husband.

As much as she suffered in her room, her mother suffered more downstairs in the parlor alone. Without Mary's company in idle conversation, or her talent at playing the piano, Mrs. Baker sank deeper and deeper into depression. Remembering her clenched fist she used to strike her only child, who, in her own mind, was not an eighteen-year-old young adult, but still a tiny baby the midwife had just handed her made her pains worsen tenfold. She paced the foyer endlessly, wringing her hands until they bled speaking an undying repetition of, "How could I hurt my little baby, my tiny little baby in a pink blanket...God forgive me..."

Mr. Baker tried his best to make her happy, "We shall dine out tonight Elizabeth, or maybe go to the theater," but to no avail.

His suggestions did nothing more than make his wife stop her pacing back and forth and run to the bottom of the stairs."Oh no Joseph, I can't leave this spot right here! Any moment now our Mary Elizabeth may call for me to come and release her from her room. It would be horrible if I am not there when she calls, I am her mother, and a child always longs for their mother."

Mary did not long for her mother, for with that fist, her mother had broken the only tie left that held her to her daughter. "I will never hit my baby, God, I will fight for my daughter and stand behind her always, no matter what she does. I will forgive her, and then I will guide her home."

Mr. Baker saw his wife diminish before his eyes, and finally, when he could stand the punishment to his wife no longer, he liberated Mary into the sunlight of a new autumn day – with many unarguable conditions.

"You will accept your mother's apology for striking you. You will go to church and at the very least confess your sins to God. You will never see George Darling again. You will never speak TO or OF George Darling again. That means no letters to him Mary Elizabeth and don't try to trick us girl. The postman already knows no correspondence sent from this home is to be delivered to the Darling's. If you see him on the street, you will act as if he is not there and ignore him. Believe me, he will do the exact same thing to you! You will marry the man I tell you to, and he will never know you took to bed with another before him. And now, just to be certain you understand the rules I have just told you, you will no longer be able to leave this house without a proper chaperone until you have a wedding ring on your finger and are another man's headache. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, GIRL?"

Mary's parents thought she would be sad and melancholy, especially after Mr. Baker's harsh words he delivered in a threatening tone. Mary did not know her parents had already rescheduled her wedding for December. Nor was she aware that George Darling had been in her home since she was imprisoned in her bedroom. Escorted by his mother on Millicent's invitation, he came no further in the door than the foyer. And there, Mr. Baker threatened George's life repeating to Mrs. Josephine Darling, Mary's confession. He was never to speak to Mary again, and he was never to even walk on the street where they lived. "Have no fear over your shamed daughter Mr. Baker, soon Fred and myself will be sending our son away and he will no longer be a bother to you and your lovely wife." Mrs. Darling informed, although her tone was not kind and concerned, rather sarcastic and mocking.

Mary listened to her father as he barged in her bedroom without knocking and accepted his words with a blank gaze, rolling her eyes when he looked away. She went outside into the autumn air and stretched her arms; full of her own life and George's life that she carried within. Her father still would not speak to her. At supper, her Aunt Millicent was the one break the news of her impending nuptials. Mary gave a wickedly sinister smile to her aunt with a grin from ear to ear dying to release her secret to everyone. But, still the proper lady her parents raised, she knew to tell no one until she told George, her husband.

With no other way to contact him, she wrote him a letter and sent it with postman as he delivered the daily mail to her home. Wise that she was now, always being watched, she addressed the letter to her friend Penny, giving the excuse that she wanted her at the wedding. "Since you addressed all the invitations and there are none left, I just will jot her a little note."

A little note indeed, with specific instructions on how to break the news to George. So there, in the Bank, during his lunch break, George learned he was to be a father from Penny, quite expectant herself. Not sure how to handle such a scandalous situation, he left early and delivered the blow that would send his father on a rampage and his mother from her chair to the floor. "Mother and Father, as you are well aware from Mr. and Mrs. Baker, I spent the night with Mary, ruining her virtue. What you are not aware of is that I...I..." a hard sentiment to get off his tongue, he finally expelled the words from his mouth shamefully like it was for a unwed gentleman who should know better, "I put Mr. and Mrs. Baker's daughter in the wrong way, and now she is to have my baby."

The Darlings raced the Bakers, and in their formal parlor, Mr. Darling returned the favor sending Mr. Baker into cardiac arrest. "It seems, Joseph and Elizabeth, that our children think so highly of us that they are to make us grandparents in the spring!" Mr. Darling declared, handing Mr. Baker a cigar of congratulations, as Mary's father howled in agony and Mary nodded, confirming the validity of his statement while destroying yet another wedding that cost a fortune. Three grown ladies, Mrs. Baker, Mrs. Darling and Aunt Millicent, cried like babies wanting a bottle and their diapers changed. The only two people in the room not waving their hands and screaming at the top of their lungs were Mary and George who sat holding hands watching the display before them.

George leaned toward Mary and whispered, "I'm sorry, Mary, to have done something this foul to you. I know you said you were not angry, but you have every right to be. By my thoughtless actions, I have left you an unwed mother..."

Mary wiped a tear that ran down his cheek, "George are you leaving me?"

He shook his head, "Never, not as long as you will have me."

Mary watched his face, filled with worry, doing her best to soothe him on the sofa with the chaos going on around them, she said, "God blessed us with this baby because we are husband and wife in His eyes, and nothing God does can be called foul. I'm honored that you love me and have entrusted me with your child."

George's face brightened, and he replied, "There is no other woman ever that I would want to be a mother to my children." They both smiled at one another, wanting nothing more than to kiss. Feeling it best to hold their affections for a better time than the present, they only clutched each other's hands even more tightly.

"It seems your son is a filthy disgusting pervert that raped my daughter and stole her virtue!" The battle of wills between two enraged fathers began.

"Maybe it was that your daughter is a whore who will spread her legs for any man, not just my son! I heard from several of my friends you've referred to her yourself as a whore"

"Oh really, who did you hear that from, the drunks at the pub, or your bookies in the back alley? The way I see it, if your son had never defiled my innocent baby girl with his rancid and dishonorable rutting, maybe she would not be in this predicament."

It continued. "If your daughter took more care of whom she let violate the hole between her legs we would not be standing here. And if you call me a drunk or a gambler I see you are not standing at all!"

"My daughter will never be allowed to marry that beast you call your son."

It went on as such well into the night. "Good, I would never let my son marry a loose woman such as your daughter who hated her parents so much she felt it necessary to run away from home! At least my son has never run away! The part I find most amusing was when George came home that afternoon. I patted him on the back for finally achieving his manhood with a prostitute, and he didn't deny it to me, he smiled! The only unfortunate thing is that he was obviously a daft idiot, for what do I find here, that very whore in a bad way by his hand on your sofa!"

That is when the fist fighting broke our between Mr. Baker and Mr. Darling and as they punched and kicked the accusations continued to fly, "I'll bet the bastard child your daughter has inside her right now isn't even George's. Who knows all the other men she's been servicing. Seems her fiancé still wants to marry her, he's probably had at her too, why don't you go accusing him.'"

"You only confused a moment ago it was by your daft idiot of a son that my precious baby is in trouble. How convenient for you to claim my daughter would lie of such a thing. And if she did take to bed with her fiancé, believe you me, I would be overjoyed! At least he's got money and wealth to hide the shame of her condition! Seems to me the smart thing for my daughter to do would be to call a spade a spade. But instead she cries after your son, so it's obvious he's the only one who's had the pleasure. More likely your son has put many innocent young girls in trouble and she is just another on the long list of mothers who have born him fatherless children, and that's why you are so ashamed he has finally been caught with his hand in the cookie jar!"

As Mr. Baker and Mr. Darling went at each other's throats and rolled around on the floor of the formal parlor, Mrs. Baker and Mrs. Darling continued to wail and beat their bosoms. Aunt Millicent was out the door once she got hold of herself, and headed to the bigger fish's house to return the ring yet again.

At midnight, with bloody noses and bruised faces, the two men fighting a losing battle took comfort in a bottle of scotch. The women crying over an illegitimate baby made in lust by their children finally fainted. Mary and George were left alone, and they sat, he with his hand on her belly and she staring into his perfect blue eyes, comfortable in their silence, as always. Every time his father said an unkind and untrue word about Mary, George readied himself to stand and defend her, but Mary held him back and shook her head, "No, let them have their say, they are not angry at us, they are angry at themselves." As Mr. Baker called George names and accused him of being a perverted breeder of bastards, Mary lost her temper and also prepared to fight to the death for her husband's honor. George held her hand tighter reassuring, "I have broad shoulders and false words will never hurt me, just take your rest, you are with my child."

Aunt Millicent returned shortly after everyone had worn themselves out, still holding the ring of engagement to the bigger fish. "He still wants to marry our Mary Elizabeth!" she declared as she entered, surprised that the Darlings were still there. "Did you hear me?" She fanned her sister-in-law who came to just in time to hear the news. "Yes, he said he will marry her on one condition. That she is sent away to your cousin's in Scotland until the child is born. And when child arrives she must leave it there in an orphanage and never speak of it or to George again."

George stood with the noise, Mary unable to stop him, and Aunt Millicent seeing him in the flesh in her brother's parlor, hissed at him to sit down and shut up.

Mary stood as well, "Don't you ever speak to him like that! We are to be married now, and there is nothing you can do to stop it this time."

"We'll see about that, now won't we missy," Aunt Millicent sneered placing the ring intended for Mary on her own finger, as if to mock her.

Mary paid her Aunt no further mind, knowing in her heart that her parents would never hear of such a thing as her still marrying the bigger fish and leaving their first grandchild at an orphanage in Scotland. Her father was too drunk that night to consider the offer and her mother still too shaken by the first batch of news to comprehend the second batch. Mr. and Mrs. Darling left, in the same condition, with George in tow, and waited until morning to give their decision.

Mary descended the stairs the next morning with thoughts of baby clothes and baby smells and baby things she would need once the little baby she wanted to name Georgeanne was born. She dressed herself in a loose fitting blouse and pinned her skirt to give the baby inside of her extra room to grow. Thus attired, her parents seeing her as she entered the dining room for breakfast knew the decision they had made when they awoke was the correct one. Mary had the smile of a mother-to-be while holding the tiniest space in her dreams for the wedding she knew would come. She had already written her first letter that morning to Penny asking her to be matron of honor at the ceremony, signing it, Mrs. Mary Darling. She took her place at her parents' table and prepared herself to graciously accept their apologies and give them her forgiveness for keeping her from George.

But alas, to her consternation, her parents liked Aunt Millicent's idea best, as always. She was commanded to pack her things and ready herself to be sent to her third cousin's in Scotland. "You are already showing. Before anyone else sees you, or learns of your condition you will already be away 'on holiday,' for that is what we are going to tell anyone who asks. 'Our daughter Mary Elizabeth is in Scotland looking after a relative who is ill.' "

They would not even consider her plea for the life of their grandchild, nor listen to her threat of eternal hatred she would cast upon them, or eternal damnation in the eyes of God she was certain He had already fated her parents with. "Not another word, Mary Elizabeth. When you return, we will expect your figure to be as it was, with no evidence that you have born a child. And if you tell George where you are going, or send him word, I will have him arrested on charges of indecent behavior and rape." Her father shouted from the head of his table, slamming his fists down against it.

It did not matter that the Darlings had not yet voiced their opinion, for later in the day when their message arrived, it was of the same opinion as the Bakers'. "Send your daughter away and George will not bother with her again. If she contacts our home, I will see that the nastiest rumors you can imagine will spread like wildfire throughout London of her immoral behavior and already questionable reputation." George had made the same pleas of grandchildren to his parents. His father also retorted with malice, "I don't know who is more foolish: a girl that lets a man between her legs before she has the wedding ring on her finger, or a man that still wants to put that ring there after he's had her. As far as grandchildren go, I'm too young to have anyone call me grandpa."

Mary sat in the dining room, scowling angrily as her parents told her of her fate. She remained there with the same expression when Mr. Darling arrived later in the day. She did not move from her chair, nor did George move from where he sat in his home with the same scowl as Mary's.

"A proper lady should only speak only when spoken to. A proper lady should never raise her voice. A proper lady should always do as she's told without question." Her Aunt Millicent's lessons played out repeatedly in her head.

But Mary was not a proper lady. She might be married to George in the eyes of the God, but not in the eyes of the laws of England. So therefore, when she went to bed with George without being lawfully wed, she proved herself far from anything acceptable in polite society. With that in mind, she stood up and stormed into the other room. There her parents sat, lost in their thoughts of all that went awry, of all their useless aspirations, of the lost dream of their only daughter marrying a big fish.

"I am having George Darling's baby whether you like it or not," she announced. "He has asked to marry me and do the right thing for me, for this baby inside of me, and for this family. I accepted and I will marry him. There is nothing wrong with marrying someone you love and there is no shame in the eyes of God when a child is made from that love. If God didn't want me to have this baby, He would have never blessed me with it. George was good enough only a few short months ago. If I remember correctly, it was you, Father that picked him out and brought him home. Nothing has changed except the arrival of Aunt Millicent's suitor who has more wealth. I don't love him, and he does not love me. If you ask my opinion on the matter, which you won't, a man that still wants to marry me -- knowing I love someone else and am to have his child -- and still expects me to uphold Aunt Millicent's acceptance of this proposal and give away my baby -- your grandchild -- to an orphanage, HE is the one that should be called foul and perverted! Therefore, on the last Saturday in November, George and I will wed in the church and become husband and wife, and there is nothing you or anyone else can do about it. I will not go to Scotland. I will not leave my baby in an orphanage. And I will not allow you to keep neither George nor this baby from me. I told you to throw me out on the street, you should have!"

Mary stalked from the room and out the front door without her coat and hat. She kept a brisk pace all the way to the Darlings' home, and there told them the exact same thing she had told her parents.

Both families defeated, they gave their children the same response. "If you go through with this, we will never speak to you again, and our door will never be opened to you. Do not ask for money or anything else. We don't want to see your child or your children, we don't want to know they are alive. We will go to the wedding out of respect for God and his commandments, but as soon as ceremony is over, we will forget that you ever were our child."

Mary said nothing in response to her parents except, "Good. I'll go pack my things." Her mother was still hoping for a peaceful resolution, so she intervened and told Mary she could stay at home until the wedding, but no longer. Mr. Baker wanted her out on her ear that very night, but as Aunt Millicent intoned, "People will think ill of you if you put her out on the streets before she is wed, especially in her condition." He conceded, but not without a fight. As Mary headed to her room to make her own wedding arrangements, her father called out to her, "There is nothing to pack in that bedroom, for you will take nothing from my house that is not your own, and I mean nothing! And nothing means not even the clothes on your back!"

George, who never got to tell his parents off, for Mary had done it for him, finally gave voice and finished her sentiment. "I would never bring my wife or my children into this house. You are both horrible parents who set a distasteful and offensive example of what a loving marriage should be. I would never beat my wife, and I would never drink and gamble away my money. You don't have to come to my wedding, I think it would be a sin for you to even venture in God's house. Mary and I do not want you there, anyway."

Unlike Mr. Baker, who needed to have the last word with Mary, Mr. Darling felt his fourth son had said enough for the both of them. He only offered, "You can stay home, George, even with that whore you're going to call your wife, but you're paying room and board until the wedding. It triples in price after that, unless you want to make other arrangements,. How about letting your brothers have a go at her? There's no worry that she'll be giving them any of their own bastards that your mother and I have to call grandchildren as well."

That night, as George retired to his bed, he found a note on his door from his mother, a bill for room and board -- almost as much as if he were paying for a one bedroom flat. The bill charged him all the way to the day of his wedding. He paid it in full the very next day with a note of his own. "Please don't come to the wedding, I would hate to see you both struck dead by lightning and God's rage on a day that is to be glorious and blessed."