“There’s nothing wrong with theater parties,” Pandora said. “Someday, you’ll have to tell your father that you invested in Preston’s play. It is your money.”
“It wasn’t a theater party.” Harley avoided Pandora’s gaze. He pushed his blond hair over his forehead. “It wasn’t a bachelor party either.”
Harley’s face took on a pained expression, and for some reason Pandora felt frightened. Her heart hammered uncomfortably, and she felt a tugging in her chest.
“What kind of party was it?” she asked uneasily.
Harley stood up. He shoved his hands into his pockets and paced around the pergola.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for ages, but at the same time I’d rather go our whole lives without mentioning it,” he began. “I’m trying so hard, and it just takes time. Pandora, you’re so lovely. You’re everything I could ask for . . .”
Pandora didn’t want to listen.
“Are you saying you don’t love me anymore?” She jumped up.
She had been right about Harley when she ran into him at Sardi’s. There had been something different about him. He was in love with another woman and was afraid to tell her.
Harley took her hand in his. “I do love you,” he said adamantly.
“Then what’s the matter?”
Pandora forced herself to smile. She could face anything as long as Harley was in love with her. She tried to sound like a modern woman. “If something happened at the party with another woman, I would be horrified. But if everyone was drinking, I might understand.”
“It wasn’t another woman.” Harley’s voice was low. There was a tremor around his mouth. “It was a man.”
Pandora’s sandwich dropped on the ground. She let out a gasp and put her hand over her mouth.
She knew a little about homosexuals. In England they were still sent to prison. It wasn’t a crime in New York, but it was almost as bad. Clubs where homosexual activity took place were raided by the police for obscenity and disorderly conduct.
“It was a one-time thing,” Pandora said quickly. “Wedding nerves or fears about your new job. Perhaps you can tell your father you need more time. You need a rest; you can join the bank next year.”
“Pandora.” Harley stopped her. “I’ve known I’m this way for years. I fell in love with a boy when I was at boarding school. I knew it was shameful; I did everything I could to ignore it.”
He had never looked so anguished. He sank onto the bench and rested his elbows on his knees.
“You can’t imagine what it’s like to be fifteen years old and know you’re about to do something that will change your life forever. From then on, you’ll always be afraid. Afraid of being ostracized by your community, hated by your own family. Even afraid of being sent to jail.”
“Lots of boys have homosexual experiences at boarding school. It’s a phase, and they grow out of it.” Pandora sat beside him. She tried to stay calm. “It all makes sense. You’re anxious about the wedding; it brought up certain feelings. Everything will return to normal once we’re married.”
“This is normal for me, Pandora.” Harley’s voice became harder. “You don’t understand. It wasn’t a phase for me at Andover. It was the first time in my life that I was true to myself. Being homosexual isn’t just about the physical act. It’s who I am.”
Pandora glanced up at him. His eyes were dark and hooded. She saw new lines on his forehead.
Her whole world felt off-kilter. Harley couldn’t mean any of it. Willie told Pandora that after the war, many soldiers suffered episodes of trauma. Something reminded them of the war—a rifle shot in the woods, the smell of gun powder, and they felt like they were back on the front lines. Perhaps it was the same with Harley. Something at the 300 Club triggered a memory of boarding school. None of what he was saying could be true. It wasn’t possible.
“You said you loved me. You asked me to marry you.”
“I do love you.” He pressed her hand. “I want to marry you more than ever.”
Pandora wrenched her hand away. She inched back on the bench.
“So I can be some kind of veil to make you look respectable. While you carry on with men?”
Harley turned to face her.
“It’s not like that. I want the same things you do. A house, children, a family.” He waved his hand. “This other thing would become something pushed to the side. It wouldn’t have anything to do with us. Our lives would go on the way we planned.”
Pandora recoiled in horror.
“Why did you choose me?” she demanded. “Is it because I’m poor? Because I wouldn’t have Lucy or Lillian or any of those other young women to stand by my side when you broke my heart? Or were you doing me a favor? ‘Pandora Carmichael will marry me because she’ll never have other prospects.’”
Her eyes filled with tears; she blinked them away. She couldn’t let Harley see her cry. She had fallen in love with him. And he’d betrayed her.
“I love you, Pandora. I loved you from the moment I saw you. You walked into the study when Preston and I were rehearsing, and it was if I had a new chance at life.” He twisted his hands. “You’re bright and intelligent and lively. The more time we spent together, the more I felt like I discovered my best friend.”
A sharp pain pierced her chest. She felt the same way about Harley—that she had found the person she belonged to.
But how could she trust him? In marriage you had to be honest with each other about everything. Yet Harley was being honest with her now. He could have waited until she found out, and even then he could have denied it. Pandora believed he was trying to turn over a new leaf. If Pandora loved Harley, she would help him.
He sensed the change in her. He reached for her hand.
“I’ll be a good husband. You can open your boutique in Hyde Park. I know how talented you are; the boutique will be a huge success. We’ll get a townhouse in New York, and you can open another boutique in Manhattan.”
The mention of New York brought it all back.
“So you can sneak off to a speakeasy with another man,” she retorted. “I’ll sleep with a wad of twenty-dollar bills on the bedside table so if there’s a police raid, I can get you out of jail.”
“There won’t be other men, and if there are, I’ll be discreet.”
“You weren’t discreet this time,” she snapped. “You could have been arrested.”
“In a way, I’m glad I went to the party. I realized I couldn’t go into the marriage with a secret.” Harley touched her wrist. “I need you, Pandora. Without you, I’d be completely lost.”
Pandora’s thoughts spun like the carousel at Coney Island. Many married couples didn’t have sex: the husbands had been wounded in the war or injured in an accident. Some wives already had six children and were so afraid of getting pregnant, they stopped making love with their husbands.
But this was different. Harley was asking her to live a lie. What if they never made love—could she live without passion? All the times Harley had kissed her, her body instinctively wanted more. She had been looking forward to her wedding night, to a lifetime of making love with her husband. Now she would have to get used to possibly living without it. If they did make love, it would be something else entirely. It would be Harley doing what was expected of him.