Chapter One: England
1988
Dougless Montgomery sat in the backseat of the rental car,
Robert and his pudgy thirteen-year-old daughter, Gloria,
in the front. As usual, Gloria was eating. Dougless
shifted her slim legs to try to make herself more
comfortable around Gloria's luggage. There were six large
pieces of matched leather luggage to hold Gloria's
belongings, and since they wouldn't fit in the trunk of
the little car, they were piled in the back with Dougless.
There was a makeup case under her feet and a big wardrobe
on the seat beside her. Every time she moved, she scraped
against a buckle, a welt, or a handle. Right now, she had
an itch under her left knee, but she couldn't reach it.
"Daddy," Gloria whined, sounding like an invalid four-year-
old, "she's scratching the pretty suitcases you bought me."
Dougless clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and counted
to ten. She. Gloria never said Dougless's name, but just
called her She.
Robert glanced over his shoulder at Dougless. "Dougless,
could you please be a bit more careful? That luggage is
quite expensive."
"I am aware of that," Dougless said, trying to keep the
anger out of her voice. "It's just that I'm having a
difficult time sitting back here. There isn't much room."
Robert gave a great sigh of weariness. "Dougless, do you
have to complain about everything? Can't you even allow a
vacation to be pleasant? All I asked was that you make an
effort."
Dougless opened her mouth to reply but closed it. She
didn't want to start another argument. Besides, she knew
that it would do no good. So, insteadof replying, she
swallowed her anger -- then rubbed her stomach. It was
hurting again. She wanted to ask Robert to stop to get
something to drink so she could take one of the
tranquilizers the doctor had prescribed for her nervous
stomach. "Keep this up and you'll give yourself an ulcer,"
the doctor had warned her. But Dougless wouldn't give
Gloria the satisfaction of knowing that she'd yet again
managed to upset Dougless and to, yet again, drive a wedge
between Dougless and Robert.
But when Dougless glanced up, she saw Gloria smirking at
her in the makeup mirror on the sun visor. With
determination, Dougless looked away and tried to
concentrate on the beauty of the English countryside.
Outside the car window she saw green fields, old stone
fences, cows and more cows, picturesque little houses,
magnificent mansions, and...and Gloria, she thought.
Dougless seemed to see Gloria everywhere. Robert kept
saying, "She's just a child and her daddy has left her.
It's only natural that she's going to have some hostility
toward you. But please try to show some sympathy for her,
will you? She's really a sweet kid when you get to know
her."
A sweet kid, Dougless thought as she looked out the
window. At thirteen, Gloria wore more makeup than Dougless
did at twenty-six -- and Gloria spent hours in the hotel
bathroom applying it. Gloria sat in the front of the
car. "She's just a kid and it's her first trip to
England," Robert said. "And you've been to England before,
so why not be generous?" That Dougless was supposed to
read the road map when she could hardly see around
Gloria's head didn't seem to count for much.
Dougless tried to concentrate on the scenery. Robert said
Dougless was jealous of his daughter. He said that she
didn't want to share him with anyone else, but that if
she'd just relax, they'd be a very happy threesome. "We
could be a second family for a little girl who has lost so
much," he said.
Dougless had tried to like Gloria. She'd tried hard to be
an adult and ignore, and even understand, Gloria's
hostility, but it was more than Dougless could do. In the
year she and Robert had been living together, Dougless had
made every possible effort to find that "sweet kid" that
Robert had told her of. Several times, she'd taken Gloria
shopping and spent more money on Gloria than Dougless's
small elementary school teacher's salary allowed her to
spend on herself. Several Saturday nights Dougless had
stayed at the house she shared with Robert, babysitting
Gloria while he went to professional functions, usually
cocktail parties or dinners. When Dougless had said she'd
like to attend with him, Robert had said, "But time alone
is what you two need. You need to get to know each other.
And, remember, babe, I'm a package deal. Love me, love my
kid."
Sometimes Dougless had started to believe that it was
beginning to work because she and Gloria were cordial,
even friendly, to each other when they were alone. But the
minute Robert appeared, Gloria changed into a whining,
lying brat. She sat on Robert's lap, all five foot two
inches, one hundred and forty pounds of her, and wailed
that She had been "awfully mean" to her.
At first Dougless had laughed at what Gloria was saying.
How absurd to think she would ever harm a child! Anyone
could see that the girl was just trying to get her
father's attention.
But to Dougless's utter disbelief, Robert believed every
word his daughter said. He didn't accuse Dougless. No,
instead, he just asked her to be a "little kinder" to "the
poor kid." Immediately, Dougless's defenses had gone
up. "Is that supposed to mean you don't think I'm a kind
person? You do think I would mistreat a child?"
"I'm just asking you to be the adult and have a little
patience and understanding, that's all."
When Dougless asked what he meant by that, Robert had
thrown up his hands and said that he couldn't talk to her,
then he'd walked out of the room. Dougless had taken two
of her stomach tranquilizers.
After the arguments, Dougless had wavered between guilt
and rage. She had a classroom of children who adored her,
yet Gloria seemed to hate her. Was Dougless jealous? Was
she somehow unconsciously letting this child know she
didn't want to share Robert with his own daughter? Every
time Dougless thought of her possible jealousy she vowed
to try harder to make Gloria like her, which usually meant
she bought Gloria another expensive gift. And she'd again
agree to babysit on the weekends when Gloria stayed with
them. While Gloria's mother had a life, Dougless thought
with bitterness.
At other times, all Dougless felt was rage. Couldn't
Robert just once -- one time -- take Dougless's side?
Couldn't he tell Gloria that Dougless's comfort was more
important than the blasted suitcases? Or maybe he could
tell Gloria that Dougless had a name and wasn't always to
be referred to as she or her? But every time Dougless said
something like that to Robert, she ended up apologizing.
Robert said, "My God, Dougless, you're the adult. And I
only see her on alternate weekends, so of course I'm going
to favor her over you. You and I are together every day,
so why can't you stand to play second fiddle now and then?"
His words sounded right, but at the same time, Dougless
fantasized about Robert telling his daughter to "be more
respectful" toward the "woman I love."
But that didn't happen, so Dougless kept her mouth shut
and enjoyed the time she and Robert had when Gloria wasn't
around. When Gloria wasn't with them, she and Robert were
perfectly suited, and she knew, through age old intuition,
that very soon she was going to receive what she wanted so
much: a marriage proposal.
Truthfully, marriage was what Dougless wanted most in
life. She'd never been burning with ambition the way her
older sisters were. Dougless just wanted a nice home and a
husband, and a few children. Maybe someday, after the kids
were in school, she'd write children's books, something
about talking animals, but she had no desire to fight her
way up a corporate ladder.
Already, she'd invested eighteen months of her life in
Robert, and he was perfect husband material. He was tall,
handsome, well-dressed, and an excellent orthopedic
surgeon. He always hung up his clothes, and he helped with
the housework; he didn't chase after women, and he always
came home when he said he would. He was reliable,
dependable, faithful -- but, most important, he needed her
so very much.
Not long after they met, Robert had told Dougless his life
story. As a child, he hadn't been loved very much, and he
told Dougless that her sweet, generous heart was what he'd
been looking for all his life. His first wife, whom he'd
divorced over four years ago, was a cold fish, a woman who
Robert said was incapable of love. Just three months after
he met Dougless, he told her he wanted a "permanent
relationship" with her -- which she took to mean marriage -
- but first he wanted to know how they "related" to each
other. After all, he'd been hurt so badly the first time.
In other words, he wanted them to live together.
What he said made sense to her, and since Dougless had had
a number of "unfortunate" previous relationships with men,
she happily moved into Robert's big, beautiful, expensive
house, then set about doing everything she could to prove
to Robert that she was as warm and generous and loving as
his mother and wife had been cold.
With the exception of dealing with Gloria, living with
Robert had been great. He was an energetic man and they
often went dancing, hiking, bicycle riding. They
entertained a great deal and often went to parties. She'd
never lived with a man before, but she had easily settled
into a domestic routine, feeling as though it was what she
was made for.
They had problems other than Gloria, of course, but Robert
was so much better than any of the other men Dougless had
dated that she forgave him his little quirks -- most of
which revolved around money. True, it was annoying that
when they went to the grocery together he nearly
always "forgot" his checkbook. And at the ticket window of
theaters and when the check was presented in restaurants,
half the time Robert found he'd left his wallet at home.
If Dougless complained, he'd talk to her about the new age
of liberated women and how most women were fighting to pay
half the expenses. Then he'd kiss her sweetly and take her
somewhere expensive for dinner -- and he'd pay. And
Dougless forgave him.
Dougless knew she could stand the small problems --
everyone had idiosyncracies -- but it was Gloria that sent
her screaming. When Gloria was with them, their life
turned into a battleground. According to Robert, his
daughter was perfection on earth, and because Dougless
didn't see her that way, Robert began to see Dougless as
the enemy. When the three of them were together, it was
Robert and Gloria on one team and Dougless on the other.
Now, on this holiday in England, in the front seat Gloria
offered her father a piece of candy from the box on her
lap. Neither of them seemed to think of offering any to
Dougless.
Still looking out the window, Dougless gritted her teeth.
Perhaps it was the combination of Gloria and money that
was making her so angry, because, with this trip, Robert's
little "money quirk" as Dougless had always thought of it,
had turned into something more.
When Dougless had first met Robert, they had talked for
hours about their dreams and they'd talked many times of
taking a trip to England. As a child, she had often
traveled to England with her family, but she hadn't been
back in years. When she and Robert had moved in together,
in September of last year, Robert had said, "Let's go to
England one year from today. By then we'll know." He
hadn't elaborated on what they would "know," but Dougless
was sure that he meant that, in a year, they'd know
whether or not they were compatible for marriage.
For a whole year, Dougless had worked on planning the
trip, which she'd come to think of as their honeymoon.
A "pre-honeymoon," she called it in her mind. "The
decision maker," she said to herself, then smiled. She
made reservations at the most romantic, most exclusive
country house hotels England had to offer. When she had
asked Robert's opinion of a hotel, he'd winked at her and
said, "Spare no expense for this trip." She had ordered
brochures, bought travel books, read and researched until
she knew the names of half the villages in England.
Robert's only stipulation had been that he wanted an
educational trip as well as fun, so she'd compiled a list
of many things to do that were close to their lovely
hotels -- which was easy to do, since Great Britain is
like a Disneyland for history lovers.
Then, three months before they were to leave, Robert said
that he had a surprise for her on this trip, a very, very
special surprise that was going to fill her with joy. His
words had made Dougless work even harder on the plans, and
she found their little game of secrecy exciting. As
Dougless planned, she thought, Will he propose here? Or
maybe here. This place would be nice.
Three weeks before they left, she was balancing Robert's
household-accounts checkbook when she saw a canceled check
for five thousand dollars made out to a jewelry store.
As she held the check, tears of happiness came to her
eyes. "An engagement ring," she'd whispered. That Robert
had spent so much was proof that even though he was a tad
stingy on small things, when something really counted, he
was generous.
For the next few weeks Dougless had walked on clouds. She
cooked wonderful meals for Robert and had been especially
energetic in the bedroom, doing everything she could think
of to please him.
Two days before they were to leave, Robert punctured her
bubble a bit -- not enough to burst it, but it had
certainly been deflated. He had asked to see the bills for
the trip, plane tickets, advance reservations, whatever
she had. He had then added the amounts and handed her the
calculator tape.
"This is your half of the cost," he'd said.
"Mine?" she'd asked stupidly, not understanding what he
was saying.
"I know how important it is to you women today to pay your
own way, so I don't want to be accused of being a male
chauvinist pig," he'd said with a smile. "You don't want
to be a burden to a man, do you? You don't want to add to
all my responsibilities at the hospital and to my ex-wife,
do you?"
"No, no, of course not," Dougless had mumbled, feeling
confused, as she often did when confronted with Robert's
reasoning. "It's just that I don't have any money."
"Dougless, baby, please tell me that you don't spend
everything you make. Maybe you should take a course in
accounting." He lowered his voice. "But then your family
has money, doesn't it?"
That was one of the times Dougless's stomach had begun to
hurt, and she remembered the doctor's warning about giving
herself an ulcer. She had explained to Robert about her
family a hundred times. Yes, her family had money -- lots
of it -- but her father believed his daughters should know
how to support themselves, so Dougless was on her own
until she was thirty-five, then she'd inherit. She knew
that if there was an emergency, her father would help her,
but a pleasure trip to England hardly counted as an
emergency.
"Come on, Dougless," Robert had said with a smile when
Dougless didn't reply to his question. "I keep hearing
what a paragon of love and support that family of yours
is, so why can't they help you now?" Before she could
speak, Robert raised her hand to his lips and kissed
it. "Ah, baby, please try to get the money. I so much want
us to go on this trip because I have such a very, very
special surprise for you."
Part of Dougless had wanted to shout that he wasn't being
fair. He should have made it clear that she was going to
be required to pay for half of the trip before she'd made
reservations at such expensive hotels. But another part of
her asked why she'd expected him to pay for her share.
They weren't married. They were, as Robert often called
them, "partners." "Sounds like John Wayne and a sidekick,"
Dougless had muttered the first time he'd said that, but
Robert had just laughed.
In the end Dougless couldn't bear to ask her father for
money. It would be like admitting defeat to him. Instead,
she'd called a cousin in Colorado and asked him for a
loan. The money had been given to her freely, no interest,
but she'd had to endure her cousin's lecture. "He's a
surgeon, you're an underpaid teacher, you've been living
together for a year, but he expects you to pay for half of
an expensive trip?" her cousin had said. Dougless had
wanted to explain about Robert's mother, who had used
money to punish her son, and about his cold ex-wife, who
had spent everything Robert earned. Dougless had wanted to
explain that money was just a small part of their lives
and that she was pretty sure that Robert was going to
propose marriage on this trip.
But Dougless said none of that. "Just send the money, will
you?" she'd snapped.
But her cousin's words had upset her, so, during the few
days remaining before they left, Dougless gave herself
several little lectures. It was only fair that she pay her
own way, wasn't it? And Robert was right: it was the day
of the liberated woman. Her father, by not dropping
millions in her lap before she could handle them, was
teaching her to take care of herself and, now, so was
Robert. And, most of all, she told herself that she had
been an idiot for not realizing beforehand that she was
supposed to pay her own way.
After Dougless had contributed her half to the bills, for
the most part, she recovered her good humor, and by the
time she'd packed their suitcases, she was again looking
forward to the trip. Happily, she filled her tote bag with
necessary toiletries, travel books, and as many gadgets as
she could cram into it.
In the taxi on the way to the airport, Robert had been
especially nice to her. He'd nuzzled her neck until she'd
pushed him away in embarrassment when she saw the taxi
driver watching.
"Have you guessed the surprise yet?" he asked.
"You won the lottery," Dougless answered, still playing
the game and pretending ignorance.
"Better than that."
"Let's see...You've bought a castle and we'll live in it
forever as lord and lady."
"Much better than that," Robert said seriously. "Do you
have any idea what the upkeep on one of those places is?
I'll bet you can't guess anything as good as this
surprise."
Dougless had looked at him with love. She knew just what
her wedding dress would look like, and she imagined all
her relatives smiling at her in approval. Would their
children have Robert's blue eyes or her green? His brown
hair or her auburn? "I have no idea what the surprise is,"
she said, lying.
Leaning back against the seat, Robert smiled. "You'll soon
find out," he'd said enigmatically.
At the airport Dougless dealt with checking the luggage
while Robert kept looking about the terminal as though he
were searching for something. As Dougless tipped the
porter, Robert threw up his hand to wave to someone. At
first Dougless was too busy to realize what was happening.
She looked up at the cry, "Daddy!" and saw Gloria running
across the terminal, a porter trailing behind her pushing
a hand truck loaded with six new suitcases.
What a coincidence, Dougless thought as she checked the
tags the baggage handler gave her. Imagine meeting Gloria
at the airport. Distractedly, Dougless watched as Gloria
flung herself on her father. Moments later they broke
apart, Robert keeping his arm tightly around his precious
daughter's plump shoulders.
Once Dougless had finished with the bags, she gave her
attention to Robert's daughter, and it was difficult to
keep the frown off her face. Gloria was wearing a fringed
jacket and cowboy boots, and a too-short leather skirt.
She looked like an overweight stripper from the sixties.
Where was her mother and how could she allow the child to
dress like that? Dougless thought as she glanced about the
airport for Robert's ex-wife.
"Hello, Gloria," Dougless said. "Are you and your mother
going somewhere too?"
Gloria and her father nearly collapsed with laughter at
Dougless's words. "You haven't told her," Gloria squealed.
It took Robert a moment to sober himself. "This is the
surprise," he said, pushing Gloria forward as though she
were some huge trophy Dougless had just won. "Isn't this
the most wonderful surprise you could imagine?"
Dougless still didn't understand -- or maybe she was too
horrified to want to understand. All she could do was
stand there and stare at the two of them, speechless.
Robert put his other arm around Dougless and drew her
close to him. "Both of my girls are going with me," he
said with pride.
"Both?" Dougless whispered, her throat closing down on her.
"Yes," Robert said, his voice joyous. "Gloria is the
surprise I've been hinting at for weeks. She's going with
us to England. I knew you'd never guess! You didn't, did
you?"
No, Dougless had not come close to guessing. And now that
she was finally understanding that the beautiful, romantic
trip she'd dreamed of wasn't going to happen, she wanted
to scream, to yell, and to refuse to go. But she did none
of those things. "All the hotel rooms are just for two
people," she'd managed to say at last.
"So we'll have a rollaway bed brought in," Robert said in
dismissal. "I'm sure we'll manage, because we have love
going for us and that's all we need." He dropped his arm
from Dougless's shoulder. "Now for business. Dougless, you
won't mind getting Gloria's luggage checked in while I
catch up with lambykins, will you?"
Dougless could only shake her head. Numbly she went off to
the ticket counter, the porter and the suitcases following
her. She had to pay two hundred and eighty dollars in
overcharge for Gloria's four extra bags, and she had to
tip the porter.
They didn't have much time to spare before the plane took
off, and Robert and his daughter were absorbed in each
other so, thankfully, Dougless wasn't asked to speak. If
she had been asked anything, she wasn't sure she could
have answered. With each passing minute, she saw one dream
after another disappear. Champagne dinners gave way to
fast food eaten in the car. Afternoons spent lazily
strolling on wooded paths turned into visions of arguments
about "finding something Gloria can enjoy, too" -- a
request that Dougless had already heard too many times.
And then there was the privacy issue. The three of them
would share one room. When could she and Robert be alone?
It was when they boarded the plane that Dougless saw that
Robert had put quite a bit of work into Gloria's trip. Her
boarding pass said she was in the same row as they were,
in the aisle seat.
But Robert set Gloria between them, so Dougless ended up
on the aisle, which she hated because no matter where she
put her arms or her legs, she was always told by the
flight attendant that she was blocking the passage of the
cart.
It was during the long flight that Robert, smiling, had
handed Dougless Gloria's ticket. "Add this to our list of
expenses, will you? And I'll need a penny by penny -- or
should I say shilling by shilling," he added, winking at
Gloria, "accounting of all the money spent. My accountant
thinks I can deduct this whole trip."
"But it's a pleasure trip, not business."
Robert frowned. "Dougless, please don't start on me
already. Would you please just keep track of the money we
spend so that when we get home, you and I can split the
expenses in half?"
Dougless looked at Gloria's ticket she was holding. "You
mean in thirds, don't you? Me one third, two thirds for
you and Gloria."
Robert gave her a look of horror as he put his arm around
Gloria protectively, as though Dougless had tried to hit
the kid. "I meant in half. Gloria is for you to enjoy too.
Money spent is nothing compared to the joy you'll receive
from her company."
Dougless turned away. She wasn't going to get into an
argument now; they'd discuss this further later -- when
they were in private and Gloria wasn't watching them with
interest.
For the rest of the long flight, she read while Gloria and
Robert played cards and ignored her. Twice Dougless took a
tranquilizer to keep her stomach from eating itself.
Now, in the car, Dougless rubbed her aching stomach. In
the four days they'd been in England she'd tried to enjoy
herself. She'd tried not to complain when the first night
in their beautiful hotel room, Gloria had moaned so much
about the trundle bed the hotel had put in the room --
after the owner had crossly lectured Dougless about not
having expected Gloria -- that Robert had asked Gloria to
get into their four poster with them. After nearly being
pushed out of bed twice, Dougless had ended up sleeping on
the trundle bed. Nor had Dougless complained when Gloria
ordered three entrees at the expensive restaurant. "I just
want my baby to have a taste of everything," Robert
said. "And, Dougless, please stop being so stingy. I don't
know what's come over you. I always thought you were a
generous person," Robert said, then handed Dougless the
enormous bill that Dougless was to pay half of.
Dougless managed to keep her mouth shut by constantly
reminding herself that she was the adult and Gloria was
just a child. And Dougless consoled herself with the
knowledge that somewhere in Robert's baggage was a five-
thousand-dollar engagement ring. The thought of that ring
made her remember that he did love her. And she reminded
herself that all the things he did for Gloria were done
out of love, too.
But after last night, Dougless was finding it impossible
to keep up her appearance of good humor. Last night at yet
another hundred-and-fifty-dollar dinner, Robert had
presented Gloria with a long blue velvet box. As Dougless
watched Gloria open the box, she had a sinking feeling.
Gloria's eyes lit up when she saw what was inside. "But
it's not my birthday, Daddy," she'd whispered.
"I know, Muffin," Robert said softly. "It's just to
say, 'I love you.'"
Slowly, Gloria withdrew from the box a wide bracelet made
of twisted wires of gold and silver, from which dripped
diamonds and emeralds.
Dougless couldn't prevent the gasp that escaped her, for
she knew that her engagement ring was being fastened about
Gloria's chubby wrist.
Gloria held her arm up triumphantly. "See?"
"Yes, I see," Dougless said coolly.
After dinner, in the hall outside their room, Robert had
been furious with her. "You didn't show much enthusiasm
about the bracelet I gave my daughter. Gloria was trying
to show it to you. She was trying to make overtures of
friendship to you, but you snubbed her. You've hurt her
deeply."
"Is that what you paid five thousand dollars for? A
diamond bracelet for a child?"
"Gloria happens to be a young woman, a very beautiful
young woman, and she deserves beautiful things. And
besides, it's my money. It's not as though you and I were
married and you had any legal rights to my money."
It was the first time they'd been alone in days, and
Dougless wanted to keep her pride, wanted to tell herself
that it didn't matter that Robert bought his young
daughter diamonds but gave the woman he lived with half
his bills. But Dougless had never been able to conceal her
true feelings. With her eyes filling with unshed tears,
Dougless put her hands on his arms. "Are we going to get
married?" she whispered. "Is it ever going to happen?"
Angrily, he jerked away from her touch. "Not if you don't
start showing a little love and generosity to both my
daughter and me." He gave her a cold look. "You know, I
thought you were different, but now I'm beginning to think
that you're as cold as my ex-wife. Now, if you'll please
excuse me, I have to go comfort my daughter. She's
probably crying her little eyes out after the way you
treated her." After one last glare at Dougless, he turned
and went into their room.
Dougless slumped against the wall. "Emerald earrings
should dry her tears," she whispered to no one.
So now, in the car, she sat with her body twisted around
Gloria's suitcases and knew that no marriage proposal, and
certainly no engagement ring, was going to be given to
her. Instead she knew that she was going to spend the
month-long trip acting as a secretary and navigator for
Robert, and being taunted by his daughter. At the moment
Dougless wasn't sure what she was going to do, but the
thought of taking the first plane home appealed to her.
Even as she thought of leaving, she looked at the back of
Robert's head and her heart lurched. If she got on a plane
in a rage, she knew she'd have to return to the U.S. and
move out of Robert's house. She'd have to find an
apartment; then she'd -- What? Start dating again? As a
schoolteacher, she didn't meet too many men. She could go
to her family and -- Admit that she'd had yet another
relationship fail?
"Dougless," Robert said. "I think maybe we're lost. Where
is this church? I thought you were going to watch the road
maps. I can't drive and navigate." There was an edge to
his voice that hadn't been there yesterday and Dougless
knew he was still angry about her reaction to the bracelet.
Quickly, Dougless fumbled with the map, then looked around
Gloria's head to try to see the road signs. "Here!" she
said. "Take a right."
Robert turned down one of the narrow English lanes, bushes
on either side nearly covering the road, and drove toward
the remote village of Ashburton, a place that looked as
though it hadn't changed in hundreds of years.
"There's a thirteenth-century church here containing the
tomb of an Elizabethan earl." Dougless checked her
notebook. "Lord Nicholas Stafford, died 1564."
"Do we have to see another church?" Gloria wailed. "I'm
sick of churches. Couldn't she find something better to
look at?"
"I was told to search out historic sights," Dougless
snapped before she thought to modulate her tone.
Robert stopped the car in front of the church and looked
back at Dougless. "Gloria's statement was valid, and I see
no call for your bad temper. Dougless, you are making me
begin to regret bringing you with us," he said, then got
out of the car and walked away.
"Bringing me?" Dougless said, but he was already halfway
to the church, his arm around Gloria. "But I'm paying my
own way," she whispered.
Dougless didn't go inside the church with Robert and
Gloria. Instead she stayed outside, walking around the
lumpy graveyard, absently looking at the ancient grave
markers. She had some serious decisions to make and she
wanted time to think. Should she stay and be miserable, or
should she leave? If she left now, she knew Robert would
never forgive her and all the time and effort she'd
invested in him would have been for nothing.
"Hello."
Dougless jumped at the voice, then turned to see Gloria
just behind her. Maybe it was Dougless's imagination, but
the girl's diamond bracelet seemed to flash in the sun.
"What do you want?" Dougless asked suspiciously.
Gloria stuck her lower lip out. "You hate me, don't you?"
Dougless sighed. "No, I don't hate you. I just...It's a
grown-up thing." She took a deep breath. She wanted to be
alone so she could think. "Why aren't you inside looking
at the church?"
"I got bored. That's a pretty blouse," Gloria said, her
eyelids lowered in a sly way that Dougless had seen too
many times before. "It looks expensive. Did your rich
family buy it for you?"
Dougless wasn't about to take the bait and let the girl
get to her. Instead, she gave her a quelling look, then
turned and walked away.
"Wait!" Gloria cried out, then yelled, "Ow!"
Dougless turned back to see Gloria crumpled in a heap
beside a rough-surfaced tombstone. Dougless doubted if the
girl was actually hurt because Gloria loved drama.
Sighing, Dougless went back to help her up, but as soon as
she was upright, Gloria burst into tears. Dougless
couldn't quite bring herself to hug Gloria, but she did
manage to pat her shoulder. She even gave a little
expression of sympathy because Gloria's arm was raw where
she'd hit the stone. Gloria looked at her arm and began to
cry louder.
"It couldn't hurt that much," Dougless said, trying to
soothe the girl. "I know. Why don't you put your new
bracelet on that arm? I'll bet the pain'll stop instantly."
"It's not that," Gloria said, sniffing. "I'm upset because
you hate me. Daddy said you thought my bracelet was going
to be an engagement ring."
Dougless dropped her hand from Gloria's arm and
stiffened. "What made him think such a ridiculous thing as
that?"she asked, trying to sound convincing.
Gloria looked at Dougless out of the corner of her eye the
girl was actually hurt because Gloria loved drama.
Sighing, Dougless went back to help her up, but as soon as
she was upright, Gloria burst into tears. Dougless
couldn't quite bring herself to hug Gloria, but she did
manage to pat her shoulder. She even gave a little
expression of sympathy because Gloria's arm was raw where
she'd hit the stone. Gloria looked at her arm and began to
cry louder.
"It couldn't hurt that much," Dougless said, trying to
soothe the girl. "I know. Why don't you put your new
bracelet on that arm? I'll bet the pain'll stop instantly."
"It's not that," Gloria said, sniffing. "I'm upset because
you hate me. Daddy said you thought my bracelet was going
to be an engagement ring."
Dougless dropped her hand from Gloria's arm and
stiffened. "What made him think such a ridiculous thing as
that?"she asked, trying to sound convincing.
Gloria looked at Dougless out of the corner of her
eye. "Oh, my daddy knows everything about you," she said,
her voice sly. "He knows you thought his surprise was
going to be a marriage proposal, and he knows that you
thought the check to the jeweler was for an engagement
ring." Gloria gave a little smile. "Daddy and I laugh all
the time about you and how much you want to marry him. He
says you'll do anything he tells you to if he makes you
think he's going to ask you to marry him."
Dougless was standing so rigid that her body began to
tremble.
Gloria's little smile turned malicious and her voice
lowered. "Daddy says that if you weren't going to inherit
so much money, he'd get rid of you."
At that remark, Dougless slapped Gloria's smug, fat face.
Robert appeared from inside the church just in time to see
the slap, and Gloria went screaming into her father's arms.
"She hit me over and over," Gloria screamed, "and she
scratched my arm. Look at it, Daddy, it's bleeding. She
did this to me!"
"My God, Dougless," Robert said, his eyes wide in
horror. "I can't believe this of you. To beat a child, to -
- "
"Child! I've had enough of that child! And I've had enough
of the way you baby her. And I've had enough of the way
you two treat me!"
Robert glared at her coldly. "We have been nothing but
kind and thoughtful to you this entire trip, while you
have been jealous and spiteful. We have gone out of our
way to please you."
"You haven't made any effort to please me. Everything has
been for Gloria." Tears came to Dougless's eyes and filled
her throat until she almost choked. She kept hearing
Gloria's words ringing in her head. "You two have laughed
at me behind my back."
"Now you're fantasizing," Robert said, still glaring at
her, still holding Gloria protectively under his arm as
though Dougless might attack the girl at any moment. "But
since we are so displeasing to you, perhaps you'd rather
do without our company." Turning, Gloria huddled against
his side, he started walking toward the car.
"I agree," Dougless said. "I'm ready to go home." Bending,
she reached for her handbag where she'd set it down by a
gravestone. But her bag wasn't there. Quickly, she looked
behind a few tombstones, but there was no sign of her bag.
She looked up when she heard a car start.
At first she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Robert
was driving away and leaving her!
Dougless ran toward the gate, but the car had already
pulled onto the road. Then, to Dougless's horror, she saw
Gloria stick her arm out the window -- and dangling from
her fingertips was Dougless's handbag.
In a futile attempt to reach them, Dougless ran after the
car, but it was soon out of sight. Dazed, numb,
disbelieving, she walked back to the church. She was in a
foreign country with no money, no credit cards, no
passport. But, worst of all, the man she loved had just
walked out on her.
The heavy oak door of the church was standing open, so
Dougless went inside. It was cool and damp and dim inside
the church, and the tall stone walls made the place feel
calm and reverent.
She had to think about her situation and make some plans
about what she should do. But, then, surely, Robert would
return for her. Maybe even now he was turning around and
driving back to get her. Maybe any minute he'd come
running into the church, pull Dougless into his arms, and
tell her he was sorry and he hoped she could forgive him.
But, somehow, Dougless didn't believe any of that was
going to happen. No, Robert had been too angry -- and
Gloria was too much of a liar. Dougless was sure the girl
would elaborate on how Dougless had injured her arm, and
Robert's anger would be refueled.
No, it would be better if Dougless made some plans about
how to get herself out of this mess. She'd have to call
her father, collect, and have him send her money. And
again she would have to tell him that his youngest
daughter had failed at something. She'd have to tell him
that his daughter couldn't so much as go on a holiday
without getting herself into trouble.
Tears started in her eyes as she imagined hearing her
oldest sister, Elizabeth, say, "What has our little
scatterbrained Dougless done now?" Robert had been
Dougless's attempt at making her family proud of her.
Robert wasn't like the other stray-cat men Dougless had
fallen for. Robert was so respectable, so very suitable,
but she'd lost him. Maybe if she'd just held her temper
with Gloria...
Maybe...
Tears blurred Dougless's eyes as she looked around the
church. Sun was streaming through the old windows high
above her head, and sharp, clear rays lit the white marble
tomb in the archway to the left. Dougless walked forward.
Lying on top of the tomb was a full-length, white marble
sculpture of a man wearing the top half of a suit of armor
and an odd-looking pair of shorts, his ankles crossed, a
helmet tucked under his arm. "'Nicholas Stafford,'" she
read aloud, "'Earl of Thornwyck.'"
Dougless was congratulating herself for holding up so well
under her current circumstances when, suddenly, everything
that had happened hit her, and her knees collapsed. She
fell to the floor, her hands on the tomb, her forehead
resting against the cold marble.
She began to cry in earnest, to cry deeply from far down
inside herself. She felt as though she were a failure, a
complete and absolute failure. Her tears were not just for
today, but it seemed that everything she'd ever touched in
her life had failed. Since she'd reached puberty, her
father had had to bail her out of what had to be hundreds
of scrapes.
There was the "boy" she'd fallen madly in love with when
she was sixteen. She had defied her entire family because
they hadn't liked him. But her sister Elizabeth -- wise,
never-made-a-mistake-in-her-life Elizabeth -- showed
Dougless some papers. The boy she loved was twenty-five
years old and had a prison record. Defiantly, Dougless
declared that she loved him no matter what flaws he had.
They broke up when he was arrested for grand theft.
Then there was the minister she'd fallen for when she was
nineteen. A minister had seemed a safe person for her to
love. She ended their relationship when his picture
appeared on the front page of the newspapers. He was
already married to three other women.
And then there was...Dougless was crying so hard that she
couldn't remember all the others. But she knew that the
list was endless. Robert had seemed so different, so
ordinary, so respectable -- but she hadn't been able to
hold on to him.
"What is wrong with me?" she cried.
Through her tears, she looked at the marble face of the
man on the tomb. In the Middle Ages they had arranged
marriages. When she was twenty-two and had just found out
that her latest love, a stockbroker, had been arrested for
insider trading, she'd crawled onto her father's lap and
asked him if he'd choose a man for her.
Adam Montgomery had laughed. "Your problem, sweetheart, is
that you fall in love with men who need you too much. You
ought to find a man who doesn't need you, but just wants
you."
Dougless had sniffed. "That's exactly what I want: a
Knight in Shining Armor to swoop down off his white horse
and want me so much that he carries me back to his castle,
where we live happily ever after."
"Something like that," her father had said,
smiling. "Armor's okay but, Dougless, sweetheart, if he
gets mysterious phone calls in the night, then jumps on
his Harley and doesn't return for days at a time, get out,
okay?"
Dougless cried harder as she remembered the many times
she'd had to go to her family for help. And now she was
going to have to ask for their help again. Once again she
was going to have to admit that she'd made a fool of
herself over a man. But this time was worse, because this
man had been someone who had her family's approval. But
somehow Dougless had lost him.
"Help me," she whispered, her hand on the marble hand of
the sculpture. "Help me find my Knight in Shining Armor.
Help me find a man who wants me."
Sitting back on her heels, with her hands covering her
face, Dougless began to cry harder.
After a long while, she slowly came to realize that
someone was near her. When she turned her head, a stream
of sunlight coming from a high window hit metal and so
blinded her that she sat back on the stone floor with a
thud. She put her hand up to shield her eyes.
Standing before her was a man, a man who appeared to be
wearing...armor.
He was standing so still, and glaring down at Dougless so
fiercely, that at first she thought he wasn't real. She
couldn't help staring up at him in openmouthed
astonishment. He was an extraordinarily good looking man,
and he was wearing the most authentic looking stage
costume she'd ever seen. There was a small ruff about his
neck, then armor to his waist. But what armor! The shiny
metal looked almost as though it was silver. Down the
front of the armor were many rows of etched flower
designs, each design filled with a gold-colored metal.
From his waist to mid-thigh he wore a type of shorts that
ballooned out about his body. Below the shorts, his legs --
his big, muscular legs -- were clad in stockings that
looked to be knitted of...there was only one fiber on
earth that reflected light in just that way: silk. Tied
above his left knee was a garter made of blue silk and
beautifully embroidered. His feet sported odd, soft shoes
that had little cut-outs across the toes.
"Well, witch," the man said in a deep baritone, "you have
conjured me, so what now do you ask of me?"
"Witch?" Dougless asked, sniffing and wiping away tears.
From inside his ballooned shorts, the man pulled out a
white linen handkerchief and handed it to her. Dougless
blew her nose noisily.
"Have my enemies hired you?" the man asked. "Do they plot
against me more? Is not my head enough for them? Stand,
madam, and explain yourself."
Gorgeous, but off his rocker, Dougless thought. "Listen, I
don't know what you're talking about." Slowly, she stood
up. "Now, if you'll excuse me -- "
She didn't say any more because he drew a thin-bladed
sword that had to be a yard long, then held the sharp
point against her throat. "Reverse your spell, witch. I
would return!"
It was all too much for Dougless. First Robert and his
lying daughter, and now this mad Hamlet. She burst into
tears again and slumped against the cold stone wall.
"Damnation!" the man muttered, and the next thing Dougless
knew he had picked her up and was carrying her to a church
pew.
He put her down to sit on the hard pew, then stood over
her, still glaring. Dougless couldn't seem to stop
crying. "This has been the worst day of my life," she
wailed. The man was scowling down at her like an actor out
of an old Bette Davis movie. "I'm sorry," she managed to
say. "I don't usually cry so much, but to be abandoned by
the man I love and attacked -- at sword point, no less --
all in the same day, sets me off." As she wiped her eyes,
she glanced down at the handkerchief. It was a large linen
square, and around the border was an inch and a half band
of intricate silk embroidery of what looked to be flowers
and dragons. "How pretty," she choked out.
"There is no time for trivialities. My soul is at stake --
as is yours. I tell you again: Reverse your spell."
Dougless was recovering herself. "I don't know what you're
talking about. I was having a good cry all alone, and you,
wearing that absurd outfit, came in here and started
yelling at me. I've a good mind to call the police -- or
the bobbies, or whatever they have in rural England. Is it
legal for you to carry a sword like that?"
"Legal?" the man asked. He was looking at her arm. "Is
that a clock on your arm? And what manner of dress is it
that you wear?"
"Of course it's a clock, and these are my traveling-to-
England clothes. Conservative. No jeans or T-shirts. Nice
blouse, nice skirt. You know, Miss Marple-type clothes."
He was frowning at her, but there seemed to be less anger
about him. "You talk uncommonly strangely. What manner of
witch are you?"
Throwing up her hands in despair, Dougless stood up and
faced him. He was quite a bit taller than she was, so she
had to look up. His black, curling hair just reached the
stiff little ruff he wore, and he had a black mustache
above a trim, pointed, short beard. "I am not a witch, and
I am not part of your Elizabethan drama," she said
firmly. "And now I'm going to leave this church, and I can
promise you that if you try anything fancy with that sword
of yours, I'll scream the windows out. Here's your
handkerchief. I'm sorry it's so wet, but I thank you for
lending it to me. Good-bye, and I hope your play gets
great reviews." Turning sharply, she walked out of the
church.
"At least nothing more horrible than what I've already
been through can happen to me today," Dougless murmured as
she left the churchyard. There was a telephone booth
beyond the gate, within sight of the church door, and
Dougless used it to make a collect call to her parents'
home in the U.S. It was early in the morning in Maine, and
a sleepy Elizabeth answered the phone.
Anybody but her, Dougless thought, rolling her eyes
skyward. She'd rather talk to anyone on earth than her
perfect older sister.
"Dougless, is that you?" Elizabeth asked, waking up. "Are
you all right? You're not in trouble again, are you?"
Dougless grit her teeth. "Of course I'm not in trouble. Is
Dad there? Or Mom?" Or a stranger off the street, she
thought. Anybody but Elizabeth.
Elizabeth yawned. "No, they went up to the mountains. I'm
here house-sitting and working on a paper."
"Think it'll win a Nobel prize?" Dougless asked, trying to
make a joke and sound carefree.
Elizabeth wasn't fooled. "All right, Dougless, what's
wrong? Has that surgeon of yours stranded you somewhere?"
Dougless gave a little laugh. "Elizabeth, you do say the
funniest things. Robert and Gloria and I are having a
wonderful time. There are so many fantastic things to see
and do here. Why, just this morning we saw a medieval
play. The actors were so good. And you wouldn't believe
how good the costumes are!"
Elizabeth paused. "Dougless, you're lying. I can hear it
over the phone. What's wrong? Do you need money?"
Try as she might, Dougless could not make her lips form
the word "yes." Her family loved to tell what they called
Dougless-stories. They loved the one about the time
Dougless got locked out of her hotel room when she was
wearing only a towel. Then there was the time Dougless
went to the bank to deposit a check and walked into a bank
robbery. What they especially loved about this story was
that when the police arrived, they discovered that the
robbers were carrying toy guns.
Now she could imagine Elizabeth's laughter when she told
all the Montgomery cousins how funny little Dougless had
gone to England and been left at a church with no money,
no passport, nothing. "And, oh, yes," Elizabeth would say
over the howls of laughter, "she was attacked by a crazed
Shakespearean actor."
"No, I don't need money," Dougless said at last. "I just
wanted to say hello. I hope you get your paper done. See
ya." She heard Elizabeth say, "Dougless" as she dropped
the receiver into the cradle.
For a moment Dougless leaned back against the booth and
closed her eyes. She could feel the tears starting again.
She had the Montgomery pride, but she'd never done
anything to be proud of. She had three older sisters who
were paragons of success: Elizabeth was a research
chemist, Catherine was a professor of physics, and Anne
was a criminal attorney. Dougless, with her lowly
elementary school teaching job and her disastrous history
with men, was the family jester. She was an endless source
of material for laughter among the relatives.
As she was leaning against the telephone booth, her eyes
blurred with tears, she saw the man in the armor leave the
church and walk down the path. He glanced quickly at the
ancient gravestones, but didn't seem to have much interest
in them as he headed past the gate.
Coming down the lane was one of the little English buses,
as usual doing about fifty miles an hour on the narrow
street.
Suddenly, Dougless stood up straight. The bus was coming,
the man was walking very fast, and, somehow, she
instinctively knew he was going to walk in front of the
bus. Without another thought, Dougless started to run.
Just as she took flight, the vicar walked from behind the
church in time to see the man and the fast-moving vehicle.
He too started running.
Dougless reached the man first. She made her best flying
tackle, the one she'd learned from playing football with
her Colorado cousins, and landed on top of him. The two of
them skidded across the graveled path on his armor as
though it were a little rowboat as the bus flew past them.
If Dougless had been only one second later, the man would
have been hit by the bus.
"Are you all right?" the vicar asked, offering his hand to
help Dougless up.
"I...I think so," she said as she stood up and dusted
herself off. "You okay?" she asked the man on the ground.
"What manner of chariot was that?" he asked, sitting up,
but not attempting to stand. He looked dazed. "I did not
hear it coming." His voice lowered. "And there were no
horses."
Dougless exchanged looks with the vicar.
"I'll get him a glass of water," the vicar said, giving a
little smile to Dougless as though to say, You saved him,
so he's yours.
"Wait!" the man said. "What year is this?"
"Nineteen eighty-eight," the vicar answered, and when the
man lay back on the ground as if exhausted, the vicar
looked at Dougless. "I'll get the water," he said, then
went hurrying off, leaving them alone.
Dougless offered her hand to the man on the ground, but he
refused it and stood up on his own.
"I think you ought to sit down," she said kindly as she
motioned to an iron bench inside the low stone wall. He
wouldn't go first but followed her through the open gate,
then wouldn't sit until she had. But Dougless pushed him
to sit down. He looked too pale and too bewildered to pay
attention to courtesy.
"You're dangerous, you know that? Listen, you sit right
here and I'm going to call a doctor. You are not well."
She turned away, but his words halted her.