RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Eighty-Two
Rose tensed as she heard the front door open
and close downstairs. A voice rang out, one that she would recognize anywhere. Nathan
Hockley was home.
Listening to him ascending the stairs, she
couldn’t help but wonder what he would think of the sudden reappearance of
Ruth’s prodigal daughter. They had a child of their own now. He might not be
pleased at her suddenly showing up after five years, especially since the last
time he had seen her she had left his son at the altar. Briefly, she wondered
if he had ever realized that his first son was a madman.
There was no more time to wonder. Nathan
opened the bedroom door and walked in, stopping short at the sight of Ruth’s
two guests. He stared in surprise at Rose, then looked at Jack, wondering who
he was. He had heard stories about Jack Dawson, who had lured Cal’s fiancée
away, but he had never met him, nor seen a picture of him, and thus did not
recognize him.
"Nathan?" Ruth asked, sitting up
and pulling her nightgown closed. "Do you remember my daughter,
Rose?"
"How could I forget? She was my son’s
fiancée. It’s a surprise to see you again, Miss DeWitt Bukater."
"I didn’t expect to come back,"
Rose replied. "And it’s Mrs. Calvert, actually."
"Is this your husband, then?"
"No. My husband is dead. This is Jack
Dawson. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?"
"I heard that he was dead," Nathan
told her, arching an eyebrow. "Are you sure this is the same person?"
"Entirely certain. I thought he was
dead, but as it turned out, I was mistaken. We were fortunate enough to meet
again a few months ago."
Ruth sat up straighter, pushing the covers
off of herself. She handed the baby to Lori, climbing slowly out of bed. As she
slipped on a robe, Nathan objected.
"Ruth, you shouldn’t be out of bed. You
only gave birth yesterday. You need to rest."
"I feel fine, Nathan. And it’s time to
celebrate. It isn’t every day that one’s daughter comes home, and engaged to be
married at that."
Rose looked at her mother as she slipped on a
pair of slippers and pulled the bell cord again to summon another maid. Ruth
hadn’t mentioned Rose’s pregnancy, but perhaps it was too scandalous to be
mentioned. Certainly, she wasn’t showing yet; her middle was as flat as it had
ever been. It would still be a month or two before she began to show, and
longer still before she was obviously pregnant.
When the maid arrived in the bedroom, Ruth
gave her instructions to take to the cook for dinner.
"I want a special dinner tonight. There
will be four of us—myself, Mr. Hockley, Mrs. Calvert, and Mr. Dawson." She
gestured to each person in turn.
"Of course, Ma’am. May I ask what the
occasion is?"
"My daughter has finally returned home
after all these years."
"That is a reason to celebrate."
The maid looked at Rose curiously. She had never met Ruth Hockley’s erstwhile
daughter, but she had heard of her occasionally over the years that she had
been working for the Hockleys.
"Oh, yes. One other thing. Please tell Kathleen
that she will be Rose’s maid while she is here. She worked for me before Rose
left, and I should think they would like to see each other again."
"Yes, Ma’am. Now, what would you like
prepared for dinner?"
"Oh, yes. Dinner. Roast beef with onion
sauce, scalloped potatoes, spinach, stuffed cabbage, and cream puffs for
dessert. Rose’s favorite foods."
Rose stared at Ruth in surprise. She had
almost expected to be rejected and told to leave when she arrived on her
mother’s doorstep. Instead, her mother was overjoyed to see her, having a
special meal prepared to celebrate both her daughter’s return and her
engagement.
Rose didn’t know what to make of it. She
would never have expected such a warm reception, much less such acceptance of
her engagement to a man her mother had once despised.
She shook her head. Only one thing was
certain.
Ruth had changed as much as she had.
*****
Dinner was served two hours later. Ruth had
dressed for dinner, not as formally as in years past, but still more fancily than
a nightgown and robe. Rose had changed into her one good dress after allowing Kathleen
to iron it for her. She was unaccustomed to being waited upon, having taken
care of herself for the last five years.
While they were waiting, the four of them sat
in the parlor, Jack and Rose telling what each had been up to over the years
since they had last met. Ruth listened in rapt, sometimes appalled, attention
as Rose told of what she had done over the years, leaving out those parts that
she knew would shock or upset her mother. Jack told less of his past, speaking
only briefly of his experiences as a miner and an artist, and of his marriage
to Amelia and the way it had ended. Nathan eyed Jack’s walking stick curiously,
but was too polite to ask more about what Jack had been through.
It wasn’t until dinner that Rose had a chance
to ask Nathan and Ruth how they came to be married. The couple hesitated at
first, then went ahead and told the story.
Ruth began the story. "After you left,
Rose, I was shocked and devastated. I didn’t understand how you could have
given up everything I tried to get for you. Cal seemed to be the perfect match—and
yet you left him at the altar."
"Mother—"
Ruth did not give Rose a chance to finish.
Holding up her hand, she continued, "After a time, however, I began to
question whether I had done to right thing in insisting that you marry Cal. You
had told me often enough that you didn’t want the marriage, but I refused to
believe that you were that unhappy. Your love affair with Mr. Dawson should
have told me, but I still thought that there might have been a chance for you
and Cal. I finally realized that the pressure I had put upon you to marry him
was the reason you fled. Had I not insisted upon that marriage, you would never
have felt the need to run as you did."
"I was angry with you at first,"
Nathan interjected. "You had jilted my son and heir at the altar,
humiliating the Hockleys in front of five hundred members of Philadelphia
society. My anger lasted until I heard Cal’s reaction. He was furious that you
had left him the way you did, but it seemed as though he expected nothing
better of you. I thought that it might be because of the way you took up with
Dawson on the Titanic, but his reaction was far more vehement than I thought
necessary—after all, he had never claimed to love you. It was an arranged
marriage, as are many marriages. He told me that the reason you had left was
because you were a whorish, unfaithful redhead. I knew that he disliked
redheads, and had been surprised when he accepted the engagement to you, though
I never did understand why he hated redheads so much."
Rose looked down at her plate. She knew why,
but she would never hurt this man by telling him why. It wasn’t something that
could be discussed in polite society, and Cal had only told her the truth as he
was trying to kill her.
Nathan went on. "He was in a rage,
shouting that he should have disciplined you better from the start, let you
know what your place was—or gotten rid of you."
Rose shuddered inwardly, remembering Cal’s
idea of discipline—the beatings, the repeated rapes, and finally, his attempt
to murder her in a deserted alley in New York City. He would have gotten rid of
her eventually—and not through divorce or annulment, but by killing her.
"There was something about Cal’s tone of
voice, the rage in it, that set off warning bells in my mind. It was a
frightening rage, one that I sensed had been simmering inside him for a long
time. In that moment, I stopped being angry with you for leaving and realized
that it was probably the wisest choice you could have made, for your own
sake."
"Nathan learned soon after you left that
I had financial problems," Ruth spoke up. "He asked why I was so set
on Rose marrying Cal when Rose was obviously not happy with the idea. I evaded
the question at first, but I finally admitted to the financial difficulties
left in the wake of your father’s death. I expected him to be angry for using
his son like that, but he was amazingly sympathetic. Of course, it isn’t
unusual for people of our society to marry for financial gain. What really
surprised me, though, was when he offered to help me. I accepted his help—I
really had little choice. What I was suspicious of was why he would bother to
help me after the trouble my matchmaking had caused."
"As Ruth soon learned, I had another
type of matchmaking in mind, between she and I. She didn’t trust me at first,
possibly because of the way things had worked out between you and Cal, but
after a while I convinced her that my interest was genuine. She offered to find
a way to repay the money I had lent her, by going to work or by selling her
belongings, but I refused. I didn’t want her to repay me, whether she returned
my affection or not."
"But after a while, I did return your
affection," Ruth told Nathan, smiling contentedly at her husband.
"Nathan proposed to me on Valentine’s Day in 1914, and my response was
immediate—yes. We were married on June 25, 1914, and I’ve never been
happier."
*****
Shortly after dessert, Ruth bade them all
good night and retired to her bed, still tired from giving birth the day
before. She told each of them good night, hugged her daughter and kissed her
husband, and went upstairs to tend to her newborn and get some rest.
Nathan, Jack, and Rose returned to the
parlor, Nathan and Jack sipping brandy. Nathan offered Rose some sherry, but
she declined, finding that alcohol invariably brought on an attack of morning
sickness. The three sat together in the parlor in silence.
It was Rose who finally spoke. Nervously,
wondering if it was appropriate, she asked about Cal.
"Mother told me that Cal had died on
your wedding day, but she didn’t tell me more. May I ask what happened?"
Nathan was silent for a moment, staring at
his brandy as though it contained the answer to the question. Finally, running
a nervous hand through his silver hair, he told them, "Cal committed
suicide."
Rose gasped in shock. She had known that Cal
was insane, but she had never expected him to take his own life. Looking at the
still-present grief on her stepfather’s face, Rose suspected that he had never
expected it, either.
She didn’t expect him to say more, but at
last he began to speak again, telling them what had happened.
"Rose, I suspected after you left that
there was something not quite right about my son. Many young women would have
married him in a snap, and yet you left him at the altar. You had a frightened
look on your face just before you dropped your bouquet and ran. After hearing
Cal’s reaction to your leaving, I began to think about things that I had never
really noticed before—his hatred of redheads, particularly women, his love of
alcohol—all things that pointed to a problem I had never thought of. He had
always hidden it well, but I began to suspect that he wasn’t quite right. I
didn’t want to admit it—it was hard to admit that my son and heir was a madman,
but after a time I could no longer deny it. We had a new guesthouse built that
summer, and while the foundation was being excavated, the shallow grave of a
young redheaded woman was found—a maid who had disappeared abruptly. There was
an investigation, and soon two other bodies were found, buried in different
places on the property. I didn’t want to believe that Cal was responsible, but
deep inside, I knew."
Nathan sighed, taking a sip of brandy.
"I confronted him about the bodies that had been found—all of whom were
young redheaded women who had worked for us and had vanished without a trace.
Cal denied it, but I could tell from his expression of anger and fear mixed
with triumph that he was responsible. I knew that he wasn’t right in the head,
so I tried to have him committed to a discreet and quiet asylum. The judge,
however, was swayed by Cal’s charm. He saw no reason to suspect that Cal had
killed those women, no reason to think that my son was insane. Cal could be
very charming when he wanted to be, and he had fooled me into believing that he
was sane for years. He returned to the house soon after I tried to have him
committed after spending a short time in New York City. That was in December of
1912. In February of 1914, I proposed to Ruth. When Cal found out, he was
furious, threatening to kill her if I brought her home as my bride. I couldn’t
have him put away, so my only recourse was to threaten to disown him if he ever
threatened Ruth again."
Nathan paused. "He seemed sullen but
cooperative at first, not liking the ultimatum but not objecting either. I
almost believed that things would be all right. Then, on our wedding day, he
told me again what a mistake I was making in marrying an evil, deceptive
redhead. I knew then that Ruth would never be safe in this house as long as Cal
was in it, so I told him that he was no longer my son, and as such no longer
welcome in my home. I told him to be gone by the time I returned with my bride
in the evening. And he was, in a manner of speaking. When I returned home, he
was slumped in a chair in the study, a bullet through his head. He had been
dead for hours by the time I found him."
Jack and Rose were shocked at the story. Rose
leaned against Jack for support, not knowing what to think or feel. She had
feared and hated Cal, but she would never have wished his life upon anyone—or
his death. She remembered the times she had wanted to give up on life, and how
each time she had been drawn back. No one had ever helped Cal, or even tried to
help him. By the time the problem was recognized, it was too late to do
anything.
No, she could never rejoice over what had
happened to Cal in his life, but at the same time a part of her was glad that
he was dead. At least now her mother was safe.
*****
A short time later, Jack and Rose went
upstairs to the rooms Ruth had had prepared for them. Nathan sat alone in the
parlor, drinking another glass of brandy.
He had told them the story, but not the whole
story. Once he had realized what his son was capable of doing, he had known
that there was only one choice, one way to make things safe for his new bride
and other innocent women.
His son hadn’t committed suicide. Nathan had
killed Cal himself.