The Wheel of Fortune by Susan Howatch Read Free Book Online Page A

him. “I don’t understand.”
    “No. Well, that’s the way of the world, Robert. A girl like Ginevra is certain to favor the kind of life that in our society only married women are allowed to lead.”
    I went on staring. “But surely when women are married they still have to play the game and stick to the rules!”
    “I’m not talking about God’s rules—we all know what they are. I’m talking about society’s rules, and there are rules governing carnal behavior just as there are rules governing how to eat at table. The difference is that passion’s more important than table manners, and if you break the rules of passion you can be smashed to pulp.” He was still staring into the grate. Then abandoning the fire he moved to the window. As he slipped his hands into his pockets I saw that his fists were clenched.
    “Passion … carnal desire …” He seemed to be working his way towards some vulgar colloquialism but in the end as usual he eschewed all Anglo-Saxon bluntness and when he next spoke I realized he had fallen back on the elliptical but time-honored phrase that had been sanctified by the Bible. He was entrapped not only by his Welshness but by the verbal restraint of his generation. “Acquiring carnal knowledge is like swimming in the sea,” he said carefully at last. “The sea’s so beautiful to look at, so wonderful to swim in, but you must never bathe unless it’s safe. People so often drown in the sea and some coasts are so very dangerous … like the coast of Gower.”
    Drifting back to the writing table he paused to look down at the ink-stained blotter. “As you know,” he said, “I saw a man drown once. I saw a man drown and a woman go mad. And one day, Robert,” said my father, slowly raising his eyes to mine, “one day I’m going to have to talk to you about my mother and Owain Bryn-Davies.”
    I respected him far too much to ask what connection there could possibly be between this hoary old skeleton in the family cupboard and Ginette’s disastrous engagement, and presently—as usual—he backed away from the subject without imparting further information.
    “So you be careful of that shining sea,” he said, and as he spoke I thought how Welsh he was, wrapping the truths of life in metaphors and serving them up to me on a salver of myth. “Be careful as I was—and as I am.” He paused. His very blue eyes seemed unnaturally clear and when he looked straight at me again I found it was impossible to look away. “A good wife’s the only answer,” he said. “Anything else isn’t worth the risk of drowning. You’ll notice I don’t just say marriage is the answer, because if you choose the wrong wife it’s no answer at all. There’s no hell on earth like a bad marriage. My parents … yes, I must tell you about them someday when you’ve seen a little more of the world. They didn’t stick to the rules, you see—neither God’s rules nor the rules of society—and in breaking the rules they were both destroyed.”
    There was a pause in which nothing moved in the room but the flames of the fire in the grate.
    “So,” said my father, suddenly altering the mood by giving me his most charming smile, “I’m sure you can understand now how dangerous life could be for Ginevra and how we must do everything in our power to ensure her safety by encouraging her to make a satisfactory marriage.”
    “Yes, of course she’s got to have a husband to look after her, I quite understand that, but as far as I’m concerned there’s only one possible solution: I must marry her myself. Now, I do realize I’m a little young at present, but—”
    “I concede,” said my father, “that I married at nineteen and it turned out to be quite the most fortunate thing that’s ever happened to me, but I’m afraid I could never consent to you marrying while you’re still in your teens.”
    “But this is an emergency!”
    “I think not. I recognize that you feel a very deep affection for