Chapter 4
The face Leticia Davenport showed to the outside world was one of calm, untroubled serenity. The truth, however, was far different. Leticia, or Lettie as she was more commonly known, lived in her own particular circle of hell and had done so for the past ten years. Lacking either the resources or courage to change her circumstances, she wore the mask to hide her wretched desperation.
But it had not always been this way.
Once, centuries ago it seemed, she had been filled with virginal fantasies of romance. Dreaming of being wooed and won by a knight in shining armor. The burning, tempestuous passion she longed for was as real to her as the air she breathed even though, in the cold light of day, she knew her hopes of fulfillment were slender. The genetic pool from which Lettie had sprung had not been kind. A plain girl, she had grown into an equally plain and forgettable woman. Eyes set too close together, long nose and thin lips. She looked as if she was being pinched, an image not improved by dull, mousy brown hair that no amount of brushing could make glossy. It was, therefore, a startling shock to all concerned when Phillip Davenport asked for her hand. Startling and, to her parents, most welcome.
Her father, despairing his only child would never find a husband, had been willing to overlook certain proprieties. Discreet inquiries into the affairs of his prospective son-in-law returned assurances that nothing was amiss. Assurances that a more thorough, less hurried investigation would have revealed as being worthless. The result of coin changing hands. But with his own health failing, Lettie’s papa was anxious to see his daughter settled and her future secure, so when Phillip formally asked for her hand, her father readily gave his consent.
Generous with his daughter’s dowry, Lettie’s father had settled not only a sizeable annual income on her, but also gave the newlyweds a townhouse situated in a fashionable neighborhood where they could begin their married life together. It was a beginning the shy girl was ill-prepared to handle.
On their wedding night, Phillip staggered up the stairs and made his way drunkenly to the bedchamber where his nervous bride waited. It wasn’t such a bad match, he told himself. His wife was ignorant in the ways of the world and bending her to his will would be a simple matter of course. Moreover her father was ill. Why, the old fool could barely make it through the ceremony, and with any luck he would succumb soon enough. Then Lettie would be very wealthy. Or rather, her husband would be.
The door to the bedroom crashed open and Lettie felt her stomach churn as the strong odor of brandy rolled off her new husband in waves. He wasn’t just drunk, she realized. There was something else wrong with him. An intangible that she had no words to describe. Seeing glazed cruelty glint in his eyes, she was suddenly filled with an inexplicable fear that made her mouth go dry. She pulled the bed coverings tightly up around her neck, and in doing so made her husband laugh. It was an ugly sound.
Staggering to the edge of the bed, Phillip sat down heavily and then proceeded to tell his bride, in no small detail, how the only thing he found attractive about her was the wealth that would someday be his. The cruelty of his words cut like a knife and tears sprang from her eyes as Phillip wounded her with every syllable he uttered. Lettie had long ago abandoned any romantic notion of true love, but during their courtship, Phillip had led her to believe he held her in some affection, and promised to treat her with respect. Now she knew it was all lies. Her life was to be lived in complete and total subjugation to his every whim. Nothing else would be acceptable. She existed solely to satisfy his appetites and was granted no voice, no opinions, and no life of her own. With her hopes and dreams shattered irrevocably, Lettie took the first step on her descent into hell.
Attempting to stand, Phillip grabbed the wooden bedpost for support and stared at his wife. “Come here,” he slurred drunkenly.
Paralyzed with fear, and unable to move, Lettie watched as Phillip lurched forward and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her out of bed until she stood before him, quaking in terror.
“Undress me,” Phillip commanded.
Lettie stared at him uncomprehendingly. What on earth did he mean, undress him? Surely he didn’t expect her to remove his clothes? Like a small animal caught in a trap, she stared at him, her eyes wide and unblinking.
“Undress me!” Phillip snapped again, and this time the tone in his voice told Lettie this was exactly what her new husband expected her to do.
With shaking hands she tugged at the heavy brocade coat and then removed the matching waistcoat. Unbuttoning the fine linen shirt, she hesitantly pulled it down his arms, trying not to look at the dark nipples standing out in stark contrast to the pale, almost ghostly white of his skin. He gave a low, vicious laugh as she fumbled with the fastenings on his breeches, keeping her head bent and her eyes fixed on the floor.
The air was filled with an unpleasant odor. The stench of Phillip’s unwashed body. His liberal use of cologne could not disguise the rancid smell now he was naked. Lettie felt her stomach roll, and she fought the urge to vomit, suspecting the situation would get much worse if she did so. Closing her eyes, she prayed Phillip would not notice the slight wrinkling of her nose. Pulling her roughly to him, Phillip gripped the neckline of her nightgown and tore it from her body. Her breath left her in a rush of horror. She tried covering herself, but her hands were slapped away as Phillip threw her down on the bed and proceeded to rape her.
It was a night that Lettie would remember in agonizing detail to her dying day. She knew nothing about sex or what to expect from a man, and was totally unprepared. But, as naïve as she was, Lettie knew that what Phillip demanded of her was not normal. It couldn’t be. The physical torture and emotional humiliation he forced her to endure was beyond her comprehension. How one person could gain any pleasure from inflicting pain on another was a perversity she had no concept of.
As drunk as he was, Phillip took her three times that night. The last with such violence Lettie prayed to die as he thrust himself inside her broken body, tearing the delicate flesh with each violent lunge. Eventually it was over, and Phillip rolled off her, lay on his back, and fell quickly into a drunken sleep. Lettie shook uncontrollably as she lay next to the man she was now legally bound to. Her body ached all over, and she prayed with all her heart for God to release her from this nightmare. But God didn’t hear Lettie’s prayers or, if he did, he chose to ignore her. And so she spent night after night in cowering, abject fear as her husband systematically abused her.
She quickly learned that any show of resistance would result in a severe beating, and to spare herself from the worst of her husband’s violence, she learned to remain passive and suffer in silence until he was done. She had no idea if this was how it was supposed to be between husband and wife, but she couldn’t imagine her father treating her mother in such a way. Compounding her shame was the fact she had not been forced into this marriage. She had entered into it of her own free will, and so to hide her humiliation, she wore a mask of untroubled calm. Refusing to let anyone see how she suffered at the hands of a monster.
Within six months of the marriage, Lettie’s father passed away and, as Phillip had anticipated, the bulk of his estate passed to his only child. Lettie’s mother went to live with her sister in the country. A separate provision in her husband’s will provided for her comfort, for which Lettie was thankful. Phillip, however, made it very clear that there would be no trip to visit her mother to offer consolation for their shared loss. It was characteristic of his cruel nature.
She gained a certain measure of relief when Phillip informed her he had taken a mistress. The affair however, did not last long, and soon he returned to her bed until he found another to amuse him. And so it went on. For ten long, torturous years Lettie’s entire existence revolved around the erratic impulses of a madman. The only thing she found to be grateful for was the fact that she had been unable to conceive. Where the fault lay she did not know, but to bring a child into their lives would have been madness indeed. She wanted no flesh of hers to witness the disgrace she suffered. Perhaps God had heard her after all.
But now, into the warped fabric of her life, it appeared as if insanity of another kind was entering.
Phillip had never mentioned any living relatives. In fact, in the early days of their courtship, he had been almost fervent in his declaration of having no family whatsoever. But now the sudden appearance of an unknown cousin filled Lettie with trepidation. This was no child, but a grown woman Phillip was being asked to take in. As starved as she was for companionship, particularly the female kind, Lettie was apprehensive about how her husband would react to another female living with them. Especially if she was attractive. The rapid succession of housemaids was proof that his appetites were not confined to her bed when a pretty face caught his fancy. She offered up a silent prayer that the girl would hold no appeal whatsoever for Phillip, because bearing the familial title of cousin would offer her no protection at all.