Chapter Ten

The services of Mrs. Louisa Holland will be held today at Grace Church, 800 Broadway in Manhattan at 10 AM. We expect to see, of course, Mrs. Elizabeth Cutting escorted by Theodore "Teddy" Cutting and their beautiful children. This will also be the first public appearance of Miss Diana Holland since her return to America this past week end. Our sympathies are extended to the Holland family during this dark time.

-From the Society Pages of The New York Times, Wednesday, July 3, 1907

"Diana. Diana, wait," Henry said, chasing up to me again. "Just come inside, okay? We can talk."

"'We'?" I snapped, stopping suddenly. Henry nearly ran into me. "Who's 'we'? You, me, and… Penelope?"

Henry sighed. "God, Diana, if you would just let me explain–"

"What is this to you, huh? Is this a game to you, to both of you? Has it been all along?"

"What? No! Of course not!"

"'True bride'." I scoffed. "Nice touch, Henry."

"It's not what you think!"

I chuckled out a fake, empty laugh. "It never is, is it? When you got engaged to Penelope? Married to Penelope? Slept with Penelope on that god-awful trip to Florida? I should have known. It was right in front of me all along. I mean, how stupid am I, to not have guessed it sooner?"

Henry was shaking his head, waiting for me to finish.

"Guessed what?" he asked.

"Penelope came up with it, I'm sure. I should have known," I said again. "I always thought it was only Penelope that was in love with you. But you've been in love with her all this time, too. And together you saw me and decided, what, it would be a fun game to toy with me, right? To make me fall in love with you?"

"Diana, no–"

"What I don't get, though, is the ending. Was there some grand finale you both came up with? Did I cut it short by leaving that day seven years ago?"

"STOP!" Henry screamed, silencing anything else I could have said. "Diana, just stop. You've got it all wrong. There was no game, not from the first day we met. Before I ever met you, it's true that I thought Penelope and I would marry. Not any time soon, but I thought that was what laid at the end of the tunnel. But then… I met you. And my whole world shifted right out from under me. Everything changed. Suddenly, who I was, what I had done – none of that mattered because someone as perfect for me as you existed in the world.

"And the day you left? God, it was like the world I had finally come to know and embrace crashed all around me. Without you, nothing mattered anymore. Not New York, not my father's business, not even myself. I didn't care anymore. The day you left, I came back home and I realized… I didn't want to live a life without you – could not live a life without you."

I swallowed the tight lump in my throat.

"I would have come with you," he continued after a moment of silence. "I would have gone on that boat with you that day because, without you, this city meant nothing to me. These people were nothing to me."

"Why didn't you try to find me?" I asked. "I only told you to stay because I thought that's what you would have wanted."

He sighed. "What I wanted was you, Diana. For years I bought tickets to Paris but never once did I board a ship. You told me to stay here, so I did. I thought you would come back, but when you didn't I thought you had stopped loving me."

"So, what, you figured you should stay with Penelope since I wasn't around? That makes no sense, Henry. You were miserable with her. I thought you were smarter than that."

"You don't understand Diana–"

"Then make me understand! Make me understand how the hell you could stay married to a woman like that."

"Penelope was pregnant."

Whatever words I would have said clogged in my throat. A guttural noise was all that came out. Henry read my expression and quickly spoke.

"No, no! Not mine," he said quickly, hands extended out as if surrendering.

"What–" I stuttered, searching for words. "Pregnant? A-Are you sure?"

"Yes. A doctor confirmed it."

"Because she did it before – a fake pregnancy – you know."

It was on that Florida trip that Penelope successfully seduced a very drunk Henry for the first time since their marriage. When Henry first approached her regarding a divorce after everyone's return, she made up a fake pregnancy to keep him. If he did leave her then, it would be catastrophic for his family's image forever.

Henry nodded. "Yes, yes, I know she did. I remembered. But it wasn't like that this time. It was real."

"Who?" I asked, wondering who could have possibly impregnated Penelope.

"That damned Prince of Bavaria. They had a one night fling, which was apparently enough."

"So… she had a child?'

He shook his head. "No," he said, his eyes falling. "She miscarried at four and a half months."

"Oh," I said dumbfounded.

"And that… that devastated her. At first, I had stayed with her to protect her image. The news that the Prince had left her high and dry was still massively circulating by the time news of the pregnancy broke. Everyone was saying it was the Prince's. They were tearing her apart. I had to make a public statement to say it was mine."

I nearly gagged at those words and I could tell it was difficult for him to even say. The image of him in my eyes was shaking more now. I couldn't stop my shivering if someone had paid me a thousand dollars.

Henry noticed and took a tentative step toward me. I was too frozen to find my feet and move them away.

"Diana, let's take this inside. I can't have you dying just when I get you back again."

My heart raced at his words and, despite the cold, I felt my cheeks flush.

"No," I said. "I'm not going anywhere near… her."

"She's not like that anymore. When she found out she was pregnant, she changed. She was no darling angel by far, but she was better. And then…" He trailed off.

"Then?"

"When she lost the baby, she changed again. She became… blank. Empty. She wouldn't eat or talk for days. She didn't leave the house for months. At one point she… she… Diana, she tried to take her own life."

I gasped. The Penelope I knew would never try to kill herself. She always took life by the horns and steered it her whatever way she pleased.

"I couldn't leave her. You get that, don't you? She still has days where I worry because she goes into this withdrawn shell and doesn't talk to anyone or even leave her bed. She needs someone to watch her, to make sure she doesn't do anything."

"For seven years?" I asked.

Henry shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened and I could have stopped it, regardless of who it was."

I remembered the smug look on Penelope's face at the funeral. I couldn't imagine her being so distraught to the point of killing herself. She loved and adored herself too much to do anything of the sort before I left. But I guess a pregnancy has a way of shifting one's views.

"Please, Diana – just come inside. You look nearly blue. I promise I won't let Penelope come near you."

I remembered the large fireplace and fur blankets he had in his family's parlor room and wished more than anything to be able to experience them both right then. At the same time, I wasn't sure I was ready to dive back into that world just yet.

"I can't," I said, shaking my head.

"Why not?" He sounded almost hurt by my rejection.

Memories flooded my mind – everything I had done and been through those last seven years – and I realized the type of woman I had become. I was no longer the type of girl who should be allowed into houses like that who were owned by people like him. We were worlds apart.

"I just… can't." I pleaded him with my eyes not to press me further.

Henry sighed and took a moment. I could tell there were a million questions running through his mind.

"Fine," he said at last. "At least let me get you home."

I was about to protest again but he was already running back into his house.

A minute later he came running out again with an umbrella in his hand. I nearly burst out laughing. We were already both soaked to our cores. Using an umbrella now seemed stupid.

"Are we walking?" I asked, worried and wondering if my feet were even able to still move.

"Only if I am taking you to your sister's," he answered, putting the umbrella over the both of us. He was mere inches from me now, leaving me breathless. I could smell his cologne on him as he towered over me. I had no choice but to stay close to him.

"No," I said. "Gramercy."

Henry nodded looking down at me. "I figured. I'm having our carriage brought out and my butler is making you some tea to warm you up on your ride."

"Thank you," I said quietly, looking down at my soaked skirt and his skinny black shoes that glistened in the wetness of the rain.

It took all I had not to look up into his eyes that I knew were looking at me and kiss him right there on the street. His kissing me out on the street, I realized, was far too risky. While there were no pedestrians other than us, anyone could have looked out their windows and saw us. Perhaps by now, Davis Barnard had already heard and had a section of his column ready for publishing on Henry and me. If that were the case, then at least I had the comfort in knowing that it wouldn't be released until tomorrow.

Horse hooves came clacking around the corner and I let out a sigh of relief. At the same time, a middle-aged man came out of the house holding a small teacup in one hand and an umbrella in the other. Henry took my waist in his large hands and easily lifted me into the carriage and out of the deluge. He then took the tea from his butler and handed it to me. I could still feel his fingers on either side of my body and wished for nothing more than for his hands to be on me again. While I held the warm porcelain cup in my hands, Henry ran to the other side of the carriage and climbed in.

"You're coming with?" I had imagined myself taking the carriage alone and quiet peace.

"Of course," he said reaching across from him to the other side of seats where a large, thickly knitted blanket was folded. He draped it across both our laps. "I should make sure you get home safely."

I moved further away from him and closer to the door. The carriage jerked forward and I had to be careful not to spill the hot liquid all over me.

"How have you been, Diana?" he asked.

I laughed. It sounded weird coming from him, like someone catching up with an old acquaintance. We were so much more than old acquaintances.

To deflect from my answering, I instead asked, "What were you and Penelope fighting about?"

He sighed and looked at his lap. "Diana…"

"It was me, wasn't it?" I paused and when he didn't answer I knew it was true. "You say Penelope has changed but I really don't see it. You should have seen the way she looked at me at the funeral."

"She has changed, Diana, I promise you. Whatever you saw, or thought you saw… it's not true. But you're right: We were fighting, but only because seeing you caught her off-guard. She didn't know you were back and she was upset I didn't tell her."

I sipped my tea as he spoke. "If she's changed, why does it matter to her?"

"For so long she's wanted to make amends to you."

I laughed loudly. "Penelope? Make amends?" I laughed again. Never in a million years could I see Penelope apologizing to anyone, let alone me.

But Henry didn't laugh.

"It's true. She wanted us to go to Paris so she could do just that."

I shook my head. "No, that can't be right. Sounds more like she wanted to prove to me that you two were, in fact, still married."

Henry was getting visibly irritated at everything I was saying. "I promise you, Diana. She's not like that anymore."

"Luckily for you both, I won't be around long. I leave next Saturday so I won't ruin your perfect–" I spat the word, "marriage."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his face drop.

"You're leaving again?" he asked quietly. "So soon?'

I didn't answer nor did I meet his gaze for the rest of the four-mile ride. I sipped the rest of the tea in silence, letting the heat of it slowly warm me from the inside out. When the carriage pulled up in front of Gramercy, I handed the empty teacup to him. I peeled back the blanket and took the chance to look at him. I tried not to read too much into his expression.

With a polite tone that I reserved for meeting strangers for the first time and one I had learned from Elizabeth, I said, "Thank you for delivering me home, Mr. Schoonmaker. I assume your wife expects you home shortly. Have a good day."

I let the carriage driver help me down and entered Gramercy without a look back at Henry who was no doubt watching me leave. Good, I thought. I wanted him to watch me and see what he had missed all these years. The wet dress clung to my body and its many curves – curves women were not supposed to show in public.

"Good God, Diana, where have you been?" Aunt Edith said rounding the corner.

I was really not in the mood to talk to Edith or explain everything that had just happened. So instead, I simply said, "I went for a walk. I needed to clear my head."

"All the way from Grace Church?" she asked, appalled as if half a mile was atrocious. "You've been gone three hours!"

I didn't have it in me to say I had walked more than three miles north, instead of south, all the way up near Central Park on Fifth Avenue. So I just shrugged.

"Well, I'll send Ethel up with you to put you in some dry clothes. Supper will be ready in an hour. I think we both deserve an early night."

I went up the stairs without responding, still upset no one had told me about Henry and Penelope, regardless of her supposed "change." My feet felt heavier than ever, and that wasn't even including the weight of my drenched dress.

The way Henry was defending Penelope made me wonder if he had, in fact, fallen in love with her. I guess it was only natural. They had been married this whole time and spent every day together. Both my grandparents arranged Mother and Father's marriage and they fell in love. Penelope arranged her marriage to Henry, so it really wasn't too far-fetched.

If he had fallen in love with her, then was he even still in love with me, the way I was with him?

True bride.

Maybe he only cared for me now, as you would an old friend. Maybe he only thought he was still in love with me, and seeing me earlier then affirmed he no longer loved me. No matter how much he said he wanted me, he never did come. He even said he never did board a ship.

While I waited for Ethel, I touched my fingertips to my lips where his and mine had collided, only minutes ago.

True bride.

Ethel walked in and jerked my hand away as if she would be able to tell somehow that I had just been kissed.

"Let's get you into something warm, hm?" she said closing the door.

I remembered when I was younger, before I had known Henry Schoonmaker, I would create wild fantasies with Claire when she was my maid. There were fantastic, mysterious men aboard ships or handsome princes from small, far away countries. Then when I met Henry, things changed. I didn't need those far off fantasies because he had become my all-consuming, heart-wrenching, dramatic fantasy.

"Diana? Miss Diana?"

Ethel had been calling my name for quiet some time, I realized.

"What?"

"I asked if you would please lean forward and lift your arms for me," Ethel, I guess, repeated.

"Oh. Yes."

I obliged and let a cold shiver run down the length of my body by the time she had taken everything off. I was given new, warmer underclothes and saw the black crepe dress, another replica, she was planning on fitting me into. I groaned audibly.

"Miss?" Ethel asked.

I felt more tired than I had been in days. I exaggerated just a little bit for Ethel. I took a weary seat on the edge of my bed. I took that time to glance up in her direction.

"I'm just not feeling well," I said trying to sound weak and helpless.

"Are you getting sick?" she asked, her voice full of care and worry. It reminded me of being a small child before Father died. Mother was much kinder then. Ethel's tone was a near exact replica when I became ill as a child.

"Do you mind if I just rest for the remainder of the day?" I said, looking down and away from her. It really was half true – I could feel a headache coming along right behind my eyes and I was dreadfully tired. Then there was the complete disdain in seeing the dress, knowing all the contraptions I would have to be strapped and sealed into.

"Should I bring you your supper in here then?" Ethel asking, still sounding worried. I nodded and she added, "I'll send one of the other girls up to start your fireplace."

I nodded again and watched in delight as she folded the black dress she was gong to put me into and put it away. She pulled out my nightgown, plan as could be, and slipped it over my head. My hair was quickly brushed and braided. Had it still been short, it would have been dry by then. Since it was now longer, it was still quite damp and created a wet spot in the center of my back.

Ethel quickly scooped my drenched clothes off the floor and left the room. I curled back my covers and dove under the blankets immediately. Despite it being around four o'clock and my blinds still open letting in the dreary, rainy shade of the day, I nearly fell instantly asleep.