Vanished

“That's nonsense. You deserve more than I can give you. You deserve a handsome young husband who is so mad about you he's half insane, and takes you dancing every night. Not an old man you'll have to push around in a wheelchair when you're forty.” She laughed at the picture he painted, it was difficult to imagine Malcolm ever being anything but vital and youthful. He was a powerful, vibrant man who, despite his mane of prematurely white hair, looked ten years younger than he was. The white hair only made him look more important. “So, now that I've told you what the future holds, will you accept my offer?” Her eyes met his, and almost imperceptibly, she nodded. She felt her breath catch as she looked at him, and he pulled her into his arms and crushed her against him. She felt tears fill her eyes as she looked at him. She wanted to be as good to him as he was to her, she wanted to promise him everything, and she swore to herself she would never disappoint him.

The wedding was tiny and discreet. They were married on New Year's Day by a judge who was a close friend of his, at Malcolm's home, with fewer than a dozen of his friends present. She knew no one to invite anyway, except the women she had met when she was working in his office. But they resented her now anyway. Her Cinderella story did not fill them with happiness for her. She had walked off with what they had always wanted, but they had wanted him for very different reasons than she did. They wanted his money, and all Marielle wanted was his protection.

She wore a beige satin suit that he bought for her from Mainbocher, with a matching hat that had been made by Sally Victor. And she had never looked lovelier than she did that day, with her dark auburn hair in an elegant chignon, and her deep blue eyes filled with emotion. She had cried when the judge declared them man and wife, and she stood very close to him all day, as though she was afraid that if she didn't, some evil spirit might come between them.

They honeymooned in the Caribbean, on a private island near Antigua. It belonged to a friend, and there was a fabulous house, a yacht, and an army of discreet, extremely well trained British servants. It had been perfect in every way, and she found that her affection for him was rapidly growing deeper. His thoughtful, gentle ways touched her more often than she was able to tell him. And he approached their physical life together with wisdom, kindness, and enormous caution. He was anxious for a child, but not so much so that he was ever rough or hasty with her, and he spent most of their honeymoon learning the ways that brought her pleasure. He was an experienced man, and she enjoyed the time she spent in bed with him, but there was no hiding from the fact that there was something missing between them. But they enjoyed each other's company, and when they returned to New York three weeks later, they were good friends, and she walked into his house with a confident air, and a bounce in her step that hadn't been there in years. But once home again, the reality of their life together had hit her. They lived in his house, saw his friends, day and night, she was surrounded by his servants and Marielle had to do everything he wanted. For the most part, the servants considered her a fortune hunter, and treated her like an intruder. Knowing she had previously worked for him, jealousy stoked the fires of their hatred. Her orders were ignored, her requests were secretly ridiculed, her belongings either disappeared or were “accidentally” destroyed, and when she finally tried to mention it to Malcolm, he treated her complaints with amusement, which upset her even more. He told her to give “his people” time to get used to her, and in time they would come to love her as much as he did.

Once back in New York, he was busy at the office again. He kept to himself much of the time, and led his own life, and Marielle became very lonely. He still enjoyed being seen with her, and he was always kind to her, but it was clear that she was not going to share his entire life, or even his bedroom. He explained that he stayed up very late at night, reading documents, or making overseas calls, and it was important to him to have privacy while he did that, and he didn't want to disturb her. She had suggested that they shift their rooms around, and that he have an office next to their bedroom, where he could work at night, but he was adamant that he didn't want to change anything. And in the end, he didn't. Not one single thing changed in Malcolm's life after he married Marielle, except that they went out together a little more often. But more than once, in spite of his kindness, she felt as though she was still one of his employees.