Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (86 page)

To my surprise, Judith came to accept me and
treated me as well as any guest that entered the Van Dorn world. I
was doted on, admired, and well liked. By all but Richard.

For the next few days we spent at the estate,
Richard ignored me. During formal dinners, when we sat out on the
terrace on chilly autumn evenings and partied all night with the
young, energetic guests, he stayed far from me. And when I eased
near to him, he shunned me, moved away, then gave his attention to
his wife, who beamed with happiness from all the extra interest her
handsome husband graced upon her.

I sulked, pouted, and when I went to bed
alone, bawled like a little girl. On our trip home, he read the
paper. He sat right beside me in the coach and refused to
acknowledge my presence. We were at a stalemate. I couldn’t leave
until I sat nude for him to sketch me and add my image to his
collection. He wouldn’t be happy until I agreed.

Back at the theater, I was notified the show
would be on tour for the winter months.

“Richard knows of this?” I asked Mr.
Wilco.

“Does he know? Of course. He is traveling
with us.”

That night, I came home to learn that Judith
had returned to the city for the winter months. She was seated next
to Richard in the parlor talking when I came in. I didn’t waste a
moment to ask him about the tour. “We are leaving by the end of the
week. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Judith was taken aback by my outburst. She
excused herself from the room after Richard gave her a warm
goodnight kiss.

“Lillian dear, do you have to over dramatize
everything? It is customary for a show to go on tour.”

“Do you always go, too?” I snapped. I was
frustrated with his antics. He reminded me of Warren - which upset
me terribly.

“This will be my first time. I need to watch
over you. Though you have disappointed me, I still want to make
certain you are well cared for. So I have decided it is in your
best interest that I go with the stock company.”

“I’m not a baby. I don’t need you or want you
coming!”

He gazed despondently over to where I stood
with my arms crossed over my chest, then said in a low voice, “You
are acting like a baby.”

I stormed off, refusing Randolph’s offer of
dinner as I rushed past him and ran up to my room. I flung my
belongings across the room, throwing shoes and dresses into a
disorderly pile and into a suitcase. When I was finished, I opened
my window for fresh air, only to see Richard briskly walking down
the street, going, most likely, to visit one of the pretty girls
from the show. His latest conquest was Tilly, a young girl who had
caught Richard’s eye on her first night in the play.

I stood looking down at the man who strolled
with self-assurance along the street and wondered how he had come
to put me in such a dilemma, both physically and emotionally. When
I agreed to come with him to New York, I had expected it to be
temporary. One sitting, one sketch - that was all. I was going to
earn enough money to get myself home. I’d never expected to be
imprisoned again, even if it was by a man I had grown to love and
trust, for he was all that I had. There was no other man that I
wanted. It sometimes felt as if I truly did owe myself to Richard
Parker. I wasn’t sure.

The trip down south was grueling, the
conditions less than comfortable. Although Richard made certain I
had my own room in the hotels, next to his, my quarters were
cramped, and the theaters were nowhere near as elaborate as the one
in Manhattan. The dressing rooms were hot and stuffy, causing our
makeup to run and require re-application. We sweated, our feet
swelled, and I believe all of us were miserable. Nevertheless, the
perpetual complaints went unheard. Mr. Wilco was elated with all
the money his show was bringing in. With each city, he grew fatter
and greedier and demanded more of us. Richard saw it. He was aware
of how exhausted I was, how I had nearly collapsed at curtain call,
and still he said nothing. When he wasn’t in the audience, he was
back at the hotel room sketching. Late in the evenings I lay in
bed, hot and sweltering in the small room, and thought about him. I
knew he was next door, right on the other side of the wall. All I
needed to do was go to him and agree to his request. Then he would
like me again, and then I would be free to go. But was he right? I
wondered. Was no one waiting for me back on Jasper Island? Would
Richard accept me back then?

I tossed and turned every evening, in every
city, week after week. I watched as Richard and Tilly become
closer. I was jealous of their relationship, I envied the way he
was smitten with her, and I hated the way he continued to ignored
me.

Our sixth stop on the tour was Savannah. When
I heard, my stomach knotted up and I locked myself in my room, not
even willing to go to rehearsal. Richard came to my room and
demanded I let him in. I had been crying for hours, and I looked
terrible.

“Go away!” I shouted.

“Lillian, open the door.”

“No!”

“I will bang it down if you don’t!”

Reluctantly, I did as he insisted, but kept
my back turned toward him.

“We will only be in Savannah for two nights.
Rachael will be there. I know this is hard for you, but the show
must go on.”

For the first time in so long, he seemed
genuinely concerned about me.

“I can’t do it. So many bad memories…” I
sobbed.

“If you don’t, Tilly will take your place.
She is your understudy, after all,” he boldly reminded me. My heart
skipped a beat. Tilly was already taking enough from me - she had
Richard’s undivided attention. I couldn’t let her have my role, not
even for two nights.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand,
and without turning around, I said flatly, “All right, I will do
the show.”

There was a long silence between us and for a
moment. I thought he was going to turn me around to face him and
say he would never ignore me again, that he was sorry and I meant
more to him than Tilly. I desperately needed to hear that. But
instead, he walked out without saying another word. I hated myself
for holding out on Richard, not giving in. So, with my pride
swallowed, I followed Richard, desperate to win back his approval.
“All right, you win,” I said, just before he closed the door to his
room.

He was skeptical at first; his suspicious
eyes stared me down until I repeated what I’d said, and took hold
of his hand. “You win, Richard.”

At last, I saw him smile with pleasure,
delight, and glee at his triumph. He was getting everything he
wanted, and at least I still had him.

He hugged me tightly and placed a soft kiss
on my cheek. “Thank you for agreeing. I am sorry for being so harsh
on you; I truly am,” he whispered. I was relieved in one sense and
full of dread the next. I had agreed to undress and expose all of
myself to him.

“When we return home at the end of the tour,
when I can have you in my studio. That’s where I do my best
work.”

I slept better that night knowing that
Richard no longer hated me. For the first time, I didn’t have
dreams of the ocean and the sand in between my toes. I didn’t dream
of being a little girl on a lighthouse station anymore. It was
Richard who filled my dreams. We were intimate and he loved me as
he had loved Tilly. I became his secret lover, and when I woke in
the morning, I was ready to put my wishes and dreams aside,
exclusively for the happiness of one man.

The day we made our journey from Atlanta to
Savannah, I was sick with fear. Richard sat with me, held my hand,
and told me everything was going to be wonderful. Mr. Wilco and
Wanda sat in the coach with us and couldn’t understand my sudden
bout of “stage fright.” Because we had to keep the secrets of my
past hidden, they were left to believe stage fright had taken over.
When we arrived in Savannah, a doctor was going to give me
something for my anxiety. Mr. Wilco was less than pleased and
pulled Richard aside when we arrived at the theater for the day’s
rehearsal.

“I promise you she will be fine. Tilly does
not have to stand in for her,” I overheard him say.

Since I had given into Richard’s wishes, he
no longer gave Tilly his attention or took her to bed, and she was
angry with him. She flared up when we were about to rehearse.
“Don’t you come knocking on my hotel room late at night, Richard!”
she bellowed for all to hear. “I’m not a whore, you know. I don’t
care what you think - I’m not!”

Richard’s face turned flushed. He was
embarrassed, but ignored her crude outburst, and never slept with
her again.

After spending half the day at the theater,
we took a carriage to Sterling and Rachael’s home where we were
invited to spend the next few days. They had purchased an old
plantation home, on the opposite side of the city, where Sutton
Hall had once reigned supreme, which they were in the process of
repairing.

When we came upon the former plantation, I
felt queasy and rested my head against Richard’s shoulder. He
patted my knee and reached to kiss my trembling hand. “You’re safe
here, Lillian, truly.”

Rachael came to greet me with open arms. She
was as radiant as ever, and not only because she was four months
into carrying Sterling’s child.

“Dear sister-in-law, how beautiful you look
today,” Richard greeted.

“Why, thank you, dear brother-in-law, for the
compliment,” she murmured, her face flushed from his
compliment.

“How was your trip?” Sterling asked as he
tipped his hat to me.

“Awful,” I replied flatly.

“The road is hard on us all,” Richard chimed
in as Rachael led us inside.

“Mint juleps, anyone?” she inquired. We
agreed.

Their home was a modest plantation, only
consisting of five bedrooms, a parlor, a library, and a barely
usable kitchen. The slave quarters had already been demolished. The
stables were in disrepair.

“The Yankees left this place in shambles,”
Sterling said after the tour ended. “It was used as a Union
hospital for most of the war, then abandoned. I think when the work
is completed, it will be as glorious as it once was.” Sterling’s
words rang into my ears like a distress signal. Richard noticed how
pale and sickly I looked, and asked Rachael to take me to my room
for a nap before the show.

“Certainly. Come this way.” She led me
upstairs and into the first bedroom. It was quaint, though sparse.
“Sterling doesn’t want to use any of my family money to restore the
plantation, so I’m afraid this is the best we can do with our guest
rooms,” she explained, with an air of regret.

“This is fine, Rachael. Don’t worry
yourself,” I said, and pulled off my boots.

“Sterling is a prideful man. More so than I
could have expected,” she mumbled.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You sleep well. I’m
looking forward to attending the performance tonight,” she said,
and she wished me a good nap.

It didn’t take me long to fall into a deep
sleep and straight into familiar nightmares. Southern breezes
cascaded into the hot room, filling my nose with the scents of
magnolias and cherry blossoms. My dreams were plagued with
distorted faces from my past. I felt the brutal beatings all over
again. I heard my own screams, so loud that I bolted awake, trying
to focus my eyes in the strange room. The only light came through
the windows, from the beaming moon. Slowly, I came to my senses.
After I had calmed down and my trembling had subsided, I began to
change into my costume, and Richard asked to come in.

“It’s not locked,” I called, fastening my
last button.

“I have something to help you relax,” he
said, and he opened my hand where he placed a bag of powder. “I
hear your screams of fright.”

I hadn’t realized I cried out in my
sleep!

“You put some on the tip of your finger,
bring the power to your nose, and inhale. Before the show tonight,”
he advised, “and every time you are consumed with such fear.”

He noticed a missed button and reached to
fasten it. It was the button between my two breasts. His eyes
traveled down as his hand slowly worked the delicate button. When
he was finished, I felt his hand slowly brush against my breasts,
until he realized what he was doing, then quickly snapped out of
the trance he had fallen into. “Take the powder,” he said
awkwardly, after clearing his throat. “I’ll wait for you
downstairs.”

While thinking of how my body reacted to
Richard’s uninvited touch, I inhaled the white powder. Soon I felt
easy and free, uninhibited and blissful. Savannah became just
another city, and the performance went without a hitch. The
audience roared, the clapping was thunderous, and the reviews
outstanding. Even as I had my photograph taken for the newspaper, I
didn’t have a concern. Richard and his magical powders took care of
that. I used them twice a day, and he said he would supply the
magic to me as long as it kept my horrible fears away.

With this new self-confidence, I was able to
forget about my suffering, so much more than when I drank at the
finest of parties. I didn’t have a terrible headache the next day,
which booze caused me. I felt great all the time, as long as I took
the medicine. When I didn’t, I became cranky, irritable, and
argumentative. So Richard saw to it that I was never without a
supply of whatever it was called.

By the time early spring arrived, I was
anxious to return to the city, as was every one of the actors. We
were due for a long break, a much needed vacation, and Richard
promised to take me somewhere, just the two of us, only he
continued to remind me, “After the portrait is complete,
Lillian.”

Judith was not there when we arrived late
into the night. She hadn’t seen Richard in so long, and I wondered
how she didn’t live for his return. Randolph disclosed her
whereabouts - London. She was going to be away for several weeks,
and I was delighted with the prospect of finally being alone with
Richard. There were no other girls in competition to win his
affections. Tilly wasn’t spying on us anymore, and he all but let
Wanda and Phoebe know he was no longer interested in them. Richard
was finally coming around to see me as his number one girl, even if
I was still more like a daughter than a friend, or anything else
for that matter. I loved dining alone with him, not fighting for
his attention. He showered me with his undivided interest; he
seemed to enjoy my company just as much as I did his. And when he
mentioned the nude sketch, I took the powder and readily agreed to
pose in his studio the next morning, when he said the light would
be just right.