CAL’S STORY
CHAPTER THREE
Cal was just chatting with the
Countess of Rothes when he heard Rose call.
"Darling?"
He quickly turned around to set
his eyes upon his beautiful Rose, and noticed she was on the arm of a young
gentleman. He smiled as Rose proceeded to introduce the young man.
"Surely you remember Mr.
Dawson?" she asked.
Cal was stunned at the
transformation of this chap from third class gutter rat to first class
gentleman. Although on closer inspection, he thought to himself, it was quite
clear to anyone seeing him that he had no breeding, and though wealthy, was
lacking in class. But what Cal noted more than anything else throughout the
evening was how alive Rose looked with him. Her eyes had a sparkle he had not
seen before. She glowed. She looked relaxed and comfortable with this young
man, in a way she never did with him. Yet again, Cal felt his heart falling
apart.
*****
Lovejoy returned to Cal later
that same evening with the news that he had found Rose cavorting at a raucous
party below deck with the gutter rat, as they now referred to Dawson. Cal could
not bear to proceed with his manservant’s suggested plan to "sort the
boy". He had to be alone and so retired to his room. As Cal sat on the
bed, he felt another swift blow to his heart. He could not lose Rose to this
boy. It would mean the end of his world, and would be the worst kind of failure
in his father’s eyes. Cal thought of the beatings, the cupboard, and worst of
all, the disapproving look on his father’s face.
*****
At breakfast, Cal confronted Rose
about the previous night. He had intended only to explain how upset he was.
However, the fiery young Rose retaliated. He could see she had had more fun
last night than he could ever give her. The fear and pain in the reality of
losing her that faced him now was too much to bear. It was a lethal cocktail
which exploded inside him. He threw the breakfast laden table across the room
as he bellowed at Rose. She trembled with fear, and Cal had to leave the room
quickly, shocked and ashamed at his behavior towards his beloved and precious
young fiancée. He rushed to his bedroom and supported himself on the dressing
table as his eyes welled up with tears. Willing himself not to cry, he
inspected his reflection in the mirror. How could he treat Rose that way? The
woman he loved, treasured, and adored more than anything in this world. He
despised himself. This hurt more than any of the beatings he had ever received.