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An Old Fashioned Girl

Updated on February 14, 2015

After the Wedding

Albert was not strong enough to carry his new bride over the threshold so had his bodyguard, Simpson, do it.

Marilyn laughed as she gripped the strong young man who asked;

“Where would you like me to place her, Sir?” in this terribly innocent voice.

Albert chuckled and directed; “In the bedroom of course!” ambling behind them, tossing his top hat on the sofa as he passed. He was quite pleased they had chosen an late nineteenth century motif for their wedding.

What attracted him to Marilyn is that she was, in all ways, an old fashioned girl; unique in this century of hook-ups and instant oatmeal. She had not altered from their first meeting and seemed to be someone he might have met during World War I.

As he entered the bedroom Simpson was standing in the centre of the Royal Suite holding Marilyn as if she weighed ounces. She gripped him as if afraid he would drop her.

“Where now, Sir?” Simpson asked.

“That is quite enough, you may place her on her feet, and leave.”

Carefully Simpson placed her on her feet. Marilyn fussed with her voluminous skirts as Simpson left the room, closing the door behind him.

“You are so beautiful,” Albert said to his bride.

She was beautiful. Twenty six years old, five feet eight inches tall, her blonde hair
falling loose around her shoulders.

He was not beautiful, but felt extremely handsome in his morning coat. Without
his glasses he could not see his seventy four year old reflection in the large mirror,
just a very elegant blur.

“I asked them to brew your favourite tea, it is here, would you like a cup?” she inquired

“Of course, darling.” He replied.

Elegantly she poured him a cup as he seated on one of the plush chairs. She brought it to him, then took a cup for herself. He waited until she had seated before he spoke.

“I think this morning went quite well,” he said to make conversation.

“Oh yes,” she replied, “It was just as I dreamed it would be...” she mused.

Reflections on the Wedding and Honeymoon

A morning wedding, a breakfast, with sedate music, nothing extravagant.
He would have spent two million pounds on the wedding if she’d wanted,
but she hadn’t.

His eyes fell on his ancient Victrola which had been placed on a small table, a record waiting to be played. Seeing his gaze she said; “I would like to dance with you...”

He put down his cup, as she turned on the player and one of those sad World War II songs came on. They slowly moved in the space between the chairs and the bed.

He was rather tired, she noticed, and after polite remarks, withdrew. When she had gone,
his butler emerged, helped him remove his clothing, and he got into bed for his nap.

When he awoke, after a bath, after dressing, he entered the main room. Marilyn was playing backgammon with Simpson. He joined his wife for tea as Simpson became unobtrusive.

They took tea, discussed their pending Honeymoon in Greece.

Albert had not wanted Greece, for he’d gone there with his first wife. Marilyn hadn’t known,
and why deprive her of joy because it might remind him of the faithless Heather?

Although he was her first husband, Marilyn was his fourth wife. He really hadn’t planned to marry again, not after his experiences. But she was so different from the others.

So Different from the Others.

He recalled the first he’d seen her.

Leaving his Club, clumsy Simpson had collided with a young lady with such force
he had knocked her down.

Marilyn had not made a loud display of it, but Albert insisted they attend his physician.
It was not decency on his part, it was protection in case she was one of those gold
diggers who would find a quack to certify all forms of injury which totaled
One Million Pounds.

The doctor diagnosed a sprained ankle and a few bruises.
Albert wrote a cheque.
Not only did Marilyn refuse to take it, but was insulted. He had apologised profusely
and begged her to allow him to drop her home. She had paused, then agreed.

After dropping Marilyn at a decent set of flats, he was reminded of all the horrible people
who had sued, or tried to sue him for exorbitant sums.

Yet here was a young woman, who had been knocked to the ground by his bodyguard, who had actually been injured; certainly a tort in law, yet who refused to accept money from him. A woman who was actually insulted by his attempt to 'buy her off.'

She stayed in his thoughts for many days when remarkably, he encountered her
at one, then many of the functions he attended during the next months. She seemed
to have connections to some of the best people.

The Courtship

Albert found her delightful.

She was not at all impressed by money, and showed an honest interest in his own
particular passions. He had never met a woman who knew as much about Cricket
as he did!

She was not interested in fancy restaurants or galas, a county cricket match gave her
as much joy as it did him.

Which is one of the many reasons why he married her.

She enjoyed the cruise enormously, enjoyed Greece. He had to force gifts upon her, because she seemed to want nothing.

After Greece he took her on a tour of various European capitals. Unlike his previous wives she did not demand jewels or furs or even perfume.

After their return, they lived quietly at his Estate in Hampshire.

She did not see any need to redecorate or entertain, and although she did not resist his suggestions that she redo the bedroom, or they host a party, all expenditures of his money were his choice, not hers. They lived quietly and contentedly.

Albert died two days after their third anniversary.

Marilyn never married Simpson, remaining Albert’s widow for the rest of her life.


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    • qeyler profile image

      qeyler 6 years ago

      thank you so much

    • jfay2011 profile image

      jfay2011 6 years ago

      That is lovely and a sad ending. I became surprised that he died. Great fiction. We all have great imaginations to come up with cool storylines.

    • qeyler profile image

      qeyler 6 years ago

      No it wasn't, I just wrote it. Thank you.

    • profile image

      qeyler 6 years ago

      Was this a true story? It was beautifully written.