His beautiful face swam before her eyes and somehow she managed to whisper, ‘Yes, yes, I’ll marry you,’ through the numbness.
He stood up, drawing her to him and kissing her again before putting his hand in the pocket of his evening suit and drawing out a small box. Opening it, he presented it to her with a flourish, and again she felt they were acting a part. She looked down at the glittering gold band with a half hoop of two rubies and a diamond in the centre. Taking the ring from its velvet case, he slipped it on to the third finger of her left hand. ‘A perfect fit.’ He smiled at her, the smile that had the ability to make her forget everything. ‘A good omen, don’t you think?’
She nodded, smiling back through the frisson of disquiet that shivered down her spine. She had just realised what was missing from the moment she’d dreamed about for so long. Toby hadn’t said he loved her.
The wedding took place in what would have been considered indecent haste to anyone outside the acting community. However, marriage was seen as both protection and respectability for young actresses, especially those like Sophy whose star was on the rise and who attracted a plethora of admirers with each passing week. Just three months to the day Toby had proposed, on a bitterly cold morning at the end of March, Sophy and Toby became man and wife. The service was held at a small parish church in Holborn, and afterwards the wedding breakfast for a small group of friends was a merry affair. Toby’s parents had died years before and he had lost touch with his only sibling, a sister, so no family was present, although Sophy insisted that Dolly and Jim were invited. Otherwise the guests were all members of the theatre fraternity.
Sophy wore a long cream dress with tiny seed pearls sewn on the bodice and a large picture hat, and carried a small posy of cream and pink rosebuds, and as Dolly beheld her at the Savoy Hotel where the breakfast was being held, she said what everyone was thinking: ‘You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve seen in many a long day, lovey. And this place! I’ve passed it many times, of course, but never thought I’d set foot in it.’
Sophy smiled. ‘We wouldn’t be here but for Mr Gregory. He’s given us the wedding breakfast as his present.’
‘Which one’s he?’ Dolly glanced round the assembled company who were enjoying cocktails before they sat down to eat.
‘He’s not here.’ A shadow passed over Sophy’s face for a moment. ‘He’s away on business.’ It had greatly disappointed her when Mr Gregory had said he couldn’t come, and she had been upset he hadn’t manoeuvred whatever business it was so he could join them. But it had been kind to give them such a generous wedding present, especially as she had just accepted a wonderful role in one of the West End theatres and would be leaving the Lincoln shortly. Instead of one of the sentimental dramas or the type of musical comedy Toby was playing in, the play – The Choice – was the story of a young upper-class woman’s refusal to marry the man her parents had selected and her fight to make her own way in the world when she starts a drapery business with an inheritance her grandmother left her. She falls in love with a working-class man, and he with her, but on learning of her beginnings he rejects her, only to return to her at the end of the play when he has made his fortune, stating that now they can begin their life together as equals.
The play was going to be controversial, challenging not only the class issue but that of women in business, and not least the idea of equality of the sexes which brought in a hint of Women’s Suffrage with some of the lines Sophy got to say. She was excited but nervous. Toby had warned her not to do it, saying it was doomed to failure and she would be branded as an actress of the ‘new drama’ which would ruin her career. It was the first time one of the big commercial theatres had taken on such a contentious play; normally they were left to the independents like the Lincoln, but she had liked the role of Alice and felt she could do it justice. Surprisingly, in view of the fact it was taking her away from the Lincoln, Mr Gregory had agreed with her.
‘The part is tailor-made for you and you’ll be superb.’ He’d smiled at her, his cornflower-blue eyes crinkling. ‘And you can’t always play it safe. It might fail, the press might be up in arms, especially as the Vote for Women is becoming more of a hot potato, but if you pull it off the world will be your oyster.’