Betty by the Numbers: Ages Redux

As many of you know, I once lived happily ever after with a Jonkheer.  Sadly, last spring he surrendered his title, and his honor, as he sundered our union.  He is now known, on the rare occasions on which he is discussed in polite company, as Melville.  Having traveled the country solo, safaried a bit in Namibia and found myself a pretty little new home close to family, I am taking a look at candidates for fictional baronetcy via e-Harmony.  From time to time, the program offers me a look at a gentleman maybe four or five years younger than I, and each time I think, "No way would he be interested in me."  And almost each time, I further think, "Wow, he seems potentially nice."  Fortunately, almost no one who seems potentially nice ever comes up as actually a good fit, so I have little regret as I refrain from "smiling" at the youngsters.  Wish me luck -- I signed on for six months of matchmaking -- and let us all know what you think about age in love.  Here's a recap of what Betty seems to have thought:

The Unequal Marriage, by Vasili Pukirev, 1862

Wikipedia claims that average age at first marriage in the UK, as of 2005, was 31 for men and 29 for women, and in the Netherlands, as of some year later than 2000, also 31 for men but 28 for women.  However, in 1963 the UK’s averages were 22 for women and 23 for men – so perhaps Betty’s heroines weren’t completely bonkers when they started getting nervous about being single at 27.

The UK’s Office for National Statistics reports that 26% of 1995 brides married younger men (7% married men more than six years younger), a significant increase from 15% in 1963.  Germany’s Max Planck Institute, studying Danish marriages, found that a man married to a woman seven to nine years younger than he is 11% less likely to die prematurely than a man married to a woman his own age; a man whose wife is 15 to 17 years younger has a 20% lower chance of premature death.  However, the younger wife is more likely to die young – and women married to younger men (seven to nine years younger) have even higher odds of premature death.  Final serious-science note:  University of Colorado researchers found that in most marriages where husband and wife are significantly different ages, in either direction, both spouses are likely to have lower earnings – though the women make up for that by working more hours.

Does any of this sound conclusive to you?

We certainly know how Betty felt on age difference in marriage:  husbands should be at least seven years older than their wives.  That’s the age difference for four of her marriages; the widest gap is the 18 years between Mary Jane’s 22 and Fabian’s 40 in Winter of Change (1975), and the most common is in the ten to thirteen-year range.

Betty specified the exact ages of 92% (124) of her heroines, from Polly Talbot’s 20 (Polly, 1984) to Julia Mitchell’s 30 (At the End of the Day, 1985).  Just over 80% of them range from 23 to 27, with the greatest number, 25, clocking in at the high end of the range, at 27 years young, and the second-largest number, 22, coming in at the low end, having recently celebrated birthday 23.

On the men’s side, the youngster is 29-year old Ivo of The Fifth Day of Christmas (1971).  Thirteen of them claim 40 years in their dishes, but most – 37, or 36% of the 103 men with specified ages – are 35 or 36, with another 36 heroes aged 37, 38 or 39.  They’re all too young for me, according to the Planck people – or at least, they would be if I were Danish.  Certainly some heroes have prior marriages behind them, but on the whole Betty seems to believe that an ideal husband is mid- to late-thirties, and he should marry a woman in her mid-twenties.  May I confess I think 20 year-old Polly awfully young to be marrying?

Of those 102 marriages where I can arrive at an exact figure, because she gives the hero’s age instead of waffling about with a “well into his thirties”, the median age difference is 12 years.  (The one marriage where we get the hero’s age (34) but not the heroine’s is Amabel’s and Oliver’s in Always and Forever (2001).)  The majority, 56%, are in the 10-13 years-difference segment of the canon’s 7-18 year range

On a personal note, Melville was just over six years older than I, vindicating the Planck people's belief in a narrower margin.  I've suggested to e-Harmony that they aim from two years younger to 11 years older – here's hoping Betty’s recipe is right.

Betty by the Numbers: Marriages

Harlequin author Catherine Spencer has a story on the Harlequin website of a modern-day marriage of convenience – her widowed dental hygienist, with two young daughters, married the widower of her best friend, who had two young sons.  They thought it would be best for the kids, so they created a happy family for several years and divorced after the kids were grown.  Sounds better than Consuelo Vanderbilt’s experience in being threatened and emotionally blackmailed into marrying the Duke of Marlborough to satisfy her mother’s social ambitions – that marriage ended after two sons and eleven years, though the divorce didn’t happen for another 15 years, and then they managed an annulment five years after that, apparently on grounds that the bride married against her will and the groom did it for the money.  It makes a love match sound rather appealing, doesn’t it?

 

The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, 1895 – the former Miss Vanderbilt needed the veil because, though famously beautiful, she is rumored to have cried throughout her wedding.

That said, any rich, Dutch doctor who needs a gracious hostess for his dinner parties and mousey Mama to his flighty late-wife’s children is welcome to call on me – assuming he doesn’t mind a little wear on the tires, if you will.  I am great at all that hostessing stuff, and Betty Beth has already volunteered to take the kiddies for a few hours a week, and I would be suitably appreciative – no gushing – of shopping sprees at Harrod’s and a devoted household staff.  (Drifts off into pleasant daydream....)

Actually, only one quarter of Betty’s marriages are convenient.  I tend to avoid the MOC stories, as the premise is so utterly and unbelievably unhappy to me.  “As I am now almost forty, and you are 26, we’re probably both willing to spend the rest of our lives without so much as speeding past the Brighton city limits.”  Oh, no, we are not, bucko.  We’ve never been there, and we understand that mutual affection, respect and a socking great allowance paid quarterly are important components of a successful union, but we’ve heard a few things about Brighton, and frankly it sounds worth exploring in the right company.  Anyway, it turns out I’ve been avoiding fewer books than I realized – and The Vicar’s Daughter (1996), which includes a MOC, was off the list anyway because I hate when the parents die in car crashes (sorry, Once for All Time).

My favorite marriage scenarios are the ones where he proposes near the end of the book, but not so near that we don’t get to see the wedding.  Cassandra by Chance (1973) is the first of seven – just 5% of the stories offer us an invitation to the wedding of two entirely happy, mutually loving people – but what a wedding: “on a cold blustery January day in the little village church on Mull... overflowing with flowers.”  The bride wears blue, to match her sapphire engagement ring.  (And seems to have her new mink coat on over the blue dress.  Am I misreading that?)  After a jolly reception at her sister’s, they change into sheepskin jackets and walk briskly up the hill to Ogre’s Relish, planning for a mixed half-dozen of baby ogres and ogresses.  Happily, there is no mention of awkward social moments with would-be suitor and minister Mr. Campbell conducting the service.

 

A sapphire-blue wedding dress – perhaps a skosh chilly for Mull in January.

 

This one will work well if he gives you an heirloom aquamarine.

If you haven’t read Philomena’s Miracle (1978) recently, do go back and tuck through those last few pages of wedding-prep and aisle-walk.  They really make a VHEA, although I do wish Betty didn’t harp so on our heroines’ looks, as if that were the primary and proper criterion for love.  If you’ve never read Philomena’s, you have a treat in store.  I’m less enamored of Eugenia and Gerard’s Heidelberg Wedding (1984).  Hands up who’d want to be proposed to, without warning, at the door of the chapel and swept in, handed a bouquet, and pointed toward the officiant.  We skip a lot of years after that, and then get four wedding scenes in ten books in 1997-2000.  Perhaps Harlequin/M&B was paying extra for satin and lace – and flowers.  Always flowers.

 The wedding chapel at Heidelberg Castle, pre-be-flowering.

With the usual caveats, I count 34 MOCs, or 25% of the 135 books.  Five of them take place early in the story, 23 happen about halfway through, and six occur toward the end – including that of the beautiful Sophie and her Rijk, who marry for convenience on page 137, and discover they really, truly do love each other on page 188, after rescuing a small child from drowning and freezing and straightening out all the confusion as to just what the curiously-likeable Irena means in Rijk’s life.

Given that seven marriages take place in the final paragraphs, that leaves 94, or 70%, to occur after the curtain falls upon our satisfyingly-snogging hero and heroine.  As the milkman in Last April Fair (1980) says “to no one in particular” after squeezing and wriggling past a blissfully-unnoticing Phylly and Pieter, “it’s a very good morning for some of us, and that’s a fact.”

While we have limited glimpses into their Afters, about 27 couples (MOC and non-MOC) show up in subsequent books, and 100% of them are blissfully happy together.  If I know anything about social sciences (and I don’t), that’s a statistically-significant sample.

Finally, let me quote from Kate Fox’s anthropological work Watching the English, recommended on this site by Betty Andrea, and many thanks to the said Betty for the tip.  Here’s Ms. Fox on weddings in England:  “We know that a wedding is supposed to be a joyous event, but in our usual Eeyorish fashion, we really see it as an ordeal, an occasion fraught with difficulties and dangers (or, as the ever-cheery Debrett’s puts it ‘a minefield for the socially insecure and a logistical nightmare for the organisers’ and, for good measure, ‘a source of inter-family tension’).  Something is bound to go drastically wrong, and someone is bound to be mortally offended – and because of our belief in the magical disinhibiting powers of alcohol, we know that the veneer of polite conviviality may crack, and the inevitable family tensions may erupt into unseemly tears and quarrels.  Even if stiff upper lips are maintained on the day, there will be grumbles and recriminations in the aftermath, and in any case, even at best, we expect the whole ritual to be rather embarrassing.”

According to Fox, the English practice “negative politeness,” which involves taking great care not to threaten the privacy of others.  This and other factors make them chronically uneasy on social occasions, like wedding receptions.  (“Positive politeness,” as practiced in the US and most western European cultures, involves seeking to include others in community – or invading their privacy.)

Emma's Wedding - 2001

Emma's wedding was one of the last books penned by La Neels. It's got a little bit of everything, but it's also clear that The Great Betty was not quite at the top of her game. Even so, it's still a good read - if slightly forgettable.
We first meet Emma Dawson and her mother at the reading of Emma's father's will. We never find out what daddy died of, but evidently it was unexpected. He has left his dependents without two sticks to rub together. Daddy had unwisely invested the portfolio in what? Computers! Oh no! Not computers! Emma and mum are nearly, but not quite, bankrupt. In order to stave off impending bankruptcy, they are forced to sell the nice home with all the mod cons, the cars, the furniture and the family silver to stay afloat in a sea of insolvency. Mrs. Dawson is a typical Neels widow...selfish, check...whiny, check...lazy, check...same ol', same ol'. "I won't be shabby!" says Mum. Emma is left to take care of matters practical. What's practical is to move to the family vacation cottage in Salcombe. Mummy Dearest is not happy with the reduced circumstances. Oh, I almost forgot, Emma has a younger brother, James. He has a 'disappointing degree' in science and has taken a couple of years off to backpack around the world. Pay him no mind, this is the only time we'll hear about him. A few loose ends need tying up...cue the uptight boyfriend, Derek. Derek is involved in banking, and insolvency is not an attractive attribute in a potential mate. Time to dump Emma.
I do like Emma. One of the first things she does in Salcombe is to enroll in the library. You go, girlfriend. Editor: That's one of the first things I do when moving to a new town. She then goes shopping for dinner...stopping off at the patisserie where she encounters a strange man, with tousled hair and bristly chin, who stares at her, then takes a couple of pasties to go.

A new day dawns and it's time to get a job. Mum's small widow's pension won't cover all their needs, so Emma gets not one, but two, part-time jobs. Two nights a week she is to work in the local library (yay!) and two days a week she cleans vacation cottages. It's enough money to keep them going, but not so much time away from home, where our girl has to also do all the work (mum's got 'nerves'). One evening right at closing time, Mr. Stranger comes to the library to grab a copy of Rupert Bear for a insomniac toddler next door. Mr. Stranger hasn't brought his library card, but the librarian knows him...it's Dr. van Dyke. He says "Well, well" in quite a satisfied tone upon seeing Emma again.

Derek comes to town to propose to Emma again. He's willing to graciously overlook the family's near brush with bankruptcy and join in happy matrimony...yadda, yadda. And here we get the greatest comeback for an unwanted proposal - "Get stuffed". Yup, that's what she said. Let's say it again. "Get stuffed!" Yea, that's never getting old. She is furious at Derek, so out she goes muttering about what a rat and a worm he is. Repeatedly. She bumps right into Dr. van Dyke, who offers his hanky and a quiet sit-down in his car. Dr. van Dyke remarks that her 'rat' is a snappy dresser. Hee hee.

Dr. van Dyke's sister comes to Salcombe for a holiday with her kiddies. They stay in one of the vacation cottages that Emma cleans. Emma takes the family swimming at the beach where the good doctor shows up and gets a treat. Emma in a flattering swimsuit. Woot! Emma invites Wibeke over to her cottage for tea. Tea with mummy. Afterwards she informs her brother, Dr. van Dyke, what a horror Emma's mum is. She's a ball and chain around Emma's neck. Yup. That describes her perfectly. She's almost enough to drive Emma to drink.

Emma runs into Dr. van Dyke buying pasties again...and he offers her a temporary job at the medical centre...which is nice since mum is going off for an extended visit with friends and taking her pension with her. The job is great while it lasts, but Dr. van Dyke seems to be keeping his distance. Jobs are now dropping like flies. She gets her notice at the medical centre, then she gets her notice from the library and finds a stray dog. What? She looses her jobs and adopts a dog? Taking on added responsibility at a time like that? That's our girl. Unfortunately she names it Percy. Percy. Dang. What a lame name for a dog. To cap off her run of bad luck, Mummy Dearest writes her a letter to let her know that she's bringing an old school chum back to live in the cottage with her and will Emma get lost? Thanks a lot, Mum. Dr. van Dyke stops by and offers his hanky again for another howlfest. Dr. van Dyke does a bit of fancy plotting footwork, and comes up with a job for her, back in Holland - working with his receptionist. Sure, she can bring the dog. Emma agrees, saying that if it doesn't work out she can come back. Dr. van Dyke has no intention of anything dire happening to his "darling Emma."

Emma settles into her new job just fine. Her new job doesn't entail anything of a technical nature - it's all menial work. Dr. van Dyke comes by on Saturday and takes Emma out for a very workmanlike tour of Amsterdam. He practically walks her off her feet, which is usually a job for 'worthy' housemen. He is tempted to give her a kiss, but the legendary iron control of RDD's stands him in good stead and he possesses his soul in patience.

Emma gets an official looking letter at work one day - "Hey Emma, please don't have your mail sent here." Yeah, about that. It's from the family solicitor (the one who read daddy's will) - Mrs. Dawson was killed in an auto-accident with her school chum. Who says there's no poetic justice for evil in Neeldom? Prime example here. Awesome prime example. Awesomely awesome.

Dr. van Dyke takes her back to England. He drops her at the solicitor's house and then returns for the funeral. Dr. van Dyke drives Emma down to Salcombe after the funeral where they proceed to co-habit the cottage, without benefit of chaperonage. Dr. van Dyke takes Emma out for a spot of dinner and proposing. Call me Roele (about time!). You've reached The Age of Reason...shall we enter into a marriage of convenience? Emma agrees...and Roele is secretly delighted - his Emma was going to marry him! This calls for a kiss.

And now for a wedding that is as completely unlike the false advertising on the cover as possible. Emma wears last year's suit and the only hat she can find in the village - the weather consists of a tearing wind and persistent rain. Not so much like the sunny weather and bride in white depicted on the cover, is it? The Harwick ferry is cancelled due to bad weather, so they take the Dover ferry, whereupon Emma gets sick and Roele takes good care of her. Emma does have a worry though...she's worried about what his parents will think of her. What if they think I'm an adventuress? The parents like her a lot, she impresses them with her knowledge of Latin names of plants in the garden, and the way she doesn't boast about it.

Roele gets a call for a house call...in Rome. Rome, Italy. Emma's imagination starts working overtime - she imagines Roele taking care of a glamorous film star in a see-through nightie...which is fairly far-ish from the truth. And hey, isn't Rome where they used to have orgies? Back in ancient days, maybe - but orgies, nonetheless. Not that Emma is quite sure what goes on in an orgy, but she's pretty sure it involves beautiful women at some point. When Roele gets home Emma forgets to be cool and gives him a warm welcome...which soon leads to the gifting of some family jewels, in the form of a sapphire engagement ring. Yeah, sure, they're already married, but Roele is awooing Emma. Things have been going fairly swimmingly when a shadowy character is brought up to muddy the waters. A spiteful old biddy brings up an old flame of Roele's - Veronique...with a name like that you'd think she was the Evil Other Woman. Nope. Just a little muddy water. She's never really an issue, but hey, it gives Emma an excuse to run back to Salcombe...which gives Roele an excuse to meet her there for declarations of love and pasties. The end.

Rating: There's some fun to be had - in moderation. Emma was an appealing character for the most part. Mum was an evil stock character, but I did love her poetic ending. That alone makes this book just about worth it. Roele had some good moments of tousled hair and bristly chins, pasties and plotting. Overall I think I'll give it a boeuf en croute.

Fashion: Jersey dress, in pleasing shade of blue, straw hat and swimsuit, tweed jacket and skirt, cashmere twin set, sapphire blue dress, homemade rhubarb wine, last years suit and the only

Food: Sunday chicken, pasties (3 times!!!), crab sandwiches, peach melba, zuurkool, smoked eel, Welsh rarebit, a mountain of chips, apple pie and cream, tea and crumpets, bread and butter pudding, fruit tarts, slippery bits and pieces.

Wedding Bells for Beatrice - 1995

Beatrice Crawley is a tall luscious Olivia...at 5'10" she's a head taller than dear old dad (who sounds like he must be vertically challenged). She's as close to British royalty as The Venerable Neels allows her heroines....the great granddaughter of an earl (do you suppose he's a "belted earl"?).
Her first thought on seeing Gijs at a Christmas party is "He doesn't like me." Beatrice then proceeds to be snappy and rude...lighten up, girlfriend! She knows she needs to apologize so she heads over towards Gijs as he is talking to the rector - who leaves her with Gijs after this parting shot: "I leave you in good hands; Beatrice is a sweet girl." Gijs has a bit of a sly sense of humor: I'm delighted...and surprised to hear that. So much for apologizing. Beatrice is now bitter and rude. Again, what's not to like?
Little brother George comes home for Christmas break - with his dirty laundry, unwrapped presents, and a hollow leg. Beatrice puts his clothes in the washer, wraps his presents and feeds him fruitcake...all of which I, as a mother of 5 boys, disapprove of. It's not until she goes over to the church and rewires the fairy lights that I start warming up to her.
After Christmas, Beatrice heads back to St. Justin's, to take up the reins of 'administrator' of the building that houses the Path Lab. She has her own little flatlet on the top floor, with her office down on the ground floor. Enter social climbing boyfriend Tom the Toad. Self-important, conceited, condescending, ambitious, smug...Beatrice realizes that she has let herself drift into something more than a casual relationship with this toad. Tom the Toad takes Beatrice out for a bite to eat after she works a long hard day. His idea of a 'bite', is to have one small plate of sandwiches - and then to devour all of them but one. This does not endear him to our statuesque heroine...neither does his assumption that she will marry him. Her, "...I don't want to marry you." is ignored...he proceeds to inform her that she'll be a splendid wife...with all the 'right connections'...toad.
Her: I don't want to see you again.
Him: Oh, you are a silly girl. I'll change your mind. (then leaves without opening any doors for her)
Her: "Yes, I am a silly girl. For not having seen sooner that you are nothing but a coward with a heart full of fear." (Alright, you caught me...that last line was from The Princess Bride...but it goes so well here...)
Tears of anger and frustration dribble down her cheeks as she walks into....Gijs? Yup. He's in London to read a paper on Haematology...at her very own Path Lab building...his large hanky is handy for mopping up - he follows her up to her flatlet and goes avuncular on her, so she opens up like a guest on Oprah about the cause of her tears. My family didn't like him much, when he found out mum was an earl's granddaughter his social climbing toadiness jumped right up. Then he took me out tonight and ate all the sandwiches. "I knew that I didn't love him then - well, any girl would, wouldn't she? At this point, I totally forgive her for her initial rudeness to Gijs. Gijs invites her out for a belated supper -so off they go, in his great socking Bentley. Having a full tummy helps restore Beatrice's spirits tremendously (it has much the same effect on Betty Keira) - she fills Gijs in on the details of her working life. He takes her back, and like some sort of Door Opening Super Hero proceeds to open the car door, the path lab door AND her flatlet door.
Next day dawns on some kind of medical conference occurring in her building. Beatrice is in charge of making sure it all goes smoothly - ticking names off a list, helping elderly men out of their overcoats, making sure refreshments and lunch are ready...she peeps in during Professor van der Eekerk (yes, that's Gijs's name) - he's going on about haemolytic anaemia, jaundice Rh factor, polycythaemia, etc...then it's tea time again. The cook is amazed at their capacity to talk about blood and eat at the same time... "like a swarm of locusts...and 'ow they can eat and drink and talk about blood beats me though I must say 'e 'oo did the talking is something like. Wouldn't mind 'aving a lecture from 'im." (which sounds perilously close to "he can eat crackers in my bed, anytime") As Beatrice is finishing tidying up, in comes Tom the Toad, trying to wheedle and charm...but Beatrice is uncharmable and unwheedlable. Toadish Tom is getting a little too pushy, Gijs comes riding in on his white charger and squashes the toad, offers Beatrice a quick meal at Alfred's Place (think greasy spoon), and off they go. The waitress is awestruck at the thought of seeing an actual, real, live professor...
Gijs: 'I feel that I should have horns or a beard and a basilisk stare at the very least.'
Beatrice: you do look like one...only you're a bit too young...
Gijs: I'll start the beard first thing in the morning
Beatrice: No! I mean professors are elderly, grey-haired, forgetful and unworldly...
Gijs: I have grey hairs, but I rather like the world. I can be forgetful and in a few years I'll be elderly.
At which point it is time to exchange vital statistics. Gijs is 37, Beatrice is 28. Nice point spread there.
And now, in the interest of world peace, global standardization, and a 'step forward in the unification of Europe', Beatrice gets a foreign exchange job dropped in her lap. Or maybe on her head. She is to go to Leiden for at least a month and do the same job there...and a Dutch woman will come over and do hers. Mum thinks it's a great opportunity...to maybe meet that charming man from the Christmas party.
Meanwhile, Toady Tom is lurking in the shadows, trying to make a play...but Beatrice has been successful at avoiding him, that is, until New Years Eve. Toady Tom takes a sharp left turn into Stalker Valley - he accosts her in the parking lot, as she is going out to a party..."Still playing hard to get? I'm not taking no for an answer." Wow. Does anyone else think that sounds a wee bit threatening? Gijs does not miraculously pop out of the pavement to rescue her...but she does run into him at the New Years Eve party. Her mum is there too, and wouldn't you know it, she's already on a first name basis. 'Gijs, indeed.' thinks Beatrice. Gjis Indeed is a very good dancer...who just so happens to have a motherless seven year old daughter. You heard right, Gijs is a daddy.
Beatrice: "You should marry again..."
Gijs: Great minds think alike...
Mrs. Crawley hides her disappointment when Beatrice informs her that Gijs is planning to marry...was her spidey sense wrong? Hmm. We'll just have to wait and see.
Gijs gives Beatrice some idea of what to expect during her foreign exchange...and then offers to send her a couple of books on Holland. Study up, girlfriend. A hospital porter delivers the books a couple of days later. One was a modern history of the Netherlands...doesn't sound too bad...the second dealt with constitution, laws and politics. Really? Sounds like slow going to me.
Foreign Exchange Program. Turns out Beatrice is not the only hospital employee headed for Holland. Sister Watts has also been tagged as an Ambassador to the Netherlands. In Holland, Hetty Zilstra is assigned to show Beatrice around - she has nothing but praise for "our Gijs" (I'm imagining a deep sigh before and after "our Gijs"). Beatrice gets settled in to the Dutch hospital just fine (remember, everyone except cleaning ladies and cooks speak English in Holland)
Gijs returns from a trip unexpectedly, and Beatrice is unexpectedly delighted. Our Gijs asks Beatrice to spend her day off with him...
Beatrice: "...I was going to go shopping..."
Our Gijs: "Would you like to spend the day with me, Beatrice?"
Beatrice: "Yes, please."
Our Gijs: *kiss*
Gijs has a lovely home, and daughter Alicia is as cute as a button with her Alice band. Our Gijs takes advantage of the situation and asks Beatrice if she'd like to spend her next day off with them. Of course she can't say no when there's a seven year old in the room - but she is a bit vague. Beatrice doesn't get a tour of the house yet, but she is treated to a tour of the grounds, complete with stables, in which we find one standard issue pony, ditto one donkey (rescued from abusive 'travelers') ditto one horse. Alicia doesn't go to sleep that evening until indulging in a spot of emotional blackmail - a promise is extracted from Beatrice to visit the following week. Abstract reasons for marriage are discussed...the sordid tale of Our Gijs' first marriage is recounted (Zalia was a party girl, left before Alicia was one to live in Italy with her American boyfriend, then conveniently died in a car accident). A kiss on the cheek goodbye. A kiss on the cheek hello...will you marry me? Huh? What'd I miss? Our Gijs promises to share his sandwiches with her, unlike Tom the Stalker Toad. "It's all so sudden." (cringe. Really, Betty?) Think about it, says he... Our girl is then 'treated' to a phone call from Stalker Toad Tom..."Missed me? I bet you're dying to see me...I've forgotten your little outbursts..." *SLAM* Down goes the phone, *RING* There goes the doorbell - it's Gijs and he can see something is wrong...Beatrice tells him all about the harassing phone call and Our Gijs comes up with a perfect ten-step plan.
Step 1: Have adorable seven year old gush about the dress she'd like to wear to the wedding.
Step 2: Don't refer to proposal...let her stew.
Step 3: Loads of casual kisses on the cheek.
Step 4: Give her a poesy ring with romantic inscription. "You and no other."
Step 5: Throw adorable seven year old at her as a bit of blackmail.
Step 6: Back on the burner to stew again.
Step 7: Let her go back to England with nary a good-bye.
Step 8: Send her masses of roses.
Step 9: Let her see Stalker Boy again. He can be depended on to harass.
Step 10: Show up unannounced and let her throw herself at you.
Result: One Dawning Realization. Easy peasy. Bring on the Marriage of Convenience. Shall we marry right away? "We are both mature people, are we not?" Oops. Our Gijs is just about to be sent back to Step 1 - Beatrice is bubbling with rage at being called "mature". Editor: I'm not quite sure why that should rankle so much, but I admit that even at age 50 I'm not overly fond of being called mature. Gijs gives a remarkably nice apology and agrees to wait a couple of weeks while Beatrice gets a wedding organized. Yup. Our girl gets to have a wedding dress and veil. Per his request. Twenty guests each, extras can come to a reception at Casa de Crawley. Mrs. Crawley is a little puzzled by Gijs saying that he had thought about taking Alicia back to Holland with them after the wedding (what about implied conjugal relations, she wonders...) Standard RDD issue sapphire engagement ring is brandished..."It's beautiful, but may I still wear the poesy ring?"
It's time to get down to brass tacks and get that wedding dress sorted out. Beatrice and Mum go to Bath and get some ivory satin, then bring it back to the village to have Miss Fish, the local seamstress whip it up with her magic fingers. Editors Note: I like the fact that whenever wedding dresses are called for in Neeldom, they are made up in a fairly timely manner. None of this months and months for alterations silliness.
Weeks have turned into days, and now it's the day before the wedding. Time to meet the in-laws...and to get an eyeful of Gijs in a dinner jacket. "Even if she hadn't fallen in love with him already...she would have done so now. Dinner-jackets were made for men such as he."
The wedding was lovely, then it's off to Holland, the village people (altogether now, YMCA, it's fun to stay...never mind) gather to welcome the new couple, Gijs carries Beatrice over the threshold...No,no, you weren't too heavy...life seems good, all Beatrice has to do is...*RING*...oh, hello Mies....(50% of all Dutch villainesses are named Mies...kidding). Mies is invited to dinner. Gijs even goes so far as to request some of her favorite dishes be served for dinner and offers the fact that Mies is small and dainty and can eat anything she wants without gaining weight (insert sound of grinding teeth here). Mies turns out to be not quite what she expected. For one thing, she has thick ankles - and she's fairly non-catty. She does offer to help Beatrice with any party planning...which offer Beatrice plans to accept just as soon as a certain netherworld region freezes over. The next day Beatrice takes the car out for a drive in the country. All is well and good until the freezing rain starts...and the road ices up. She has to stop because of an accident blocking the road - and it's quite a while until the police come and call Gijs for her. He looks furious when he gets there. Well, of course he would - he's been worried to death about her - but she doesn't know that - only that he's mad at her. They have a very quiet ride back home - but that all changes when they walk in the door. Besides the faithful household help and Alicia, Mies is there and SURPRISE!!! Guess who I brought home, honey? It Toady Tom! I sure didn't see that coming. Instead of Mies being a villainess, she turns out to be practically a benefactress to Beatrice, by taking Tom totally off the market. Beatrice is not quite happy about the situation - she knows that Tom is a toad, but Mies is one step ahead of her. She also know that Tom is a toad (her word is actually philanderer!), but Mies plans to wear the pants in the family and wield the purse strings. She won't let him wander far. Sounds a bit dire for Tom, but hey, he deserves it.
And now for some angst. Gijs calls Beatrice one evening and tells her not to wait up for him. She can hear glasses clinking in the background and a woman's voice - sounds like a party! She does wait up, and then chews him out royally for staying out so late. "You may as well have made a night of it!" She nearly throws a vase at him - but he manages to forestall that. She finds out the next day that he had been busy with a medical emergency - a fight having occurred at a restaurant (thus the clinking glasses). She feels horrible about it, but Gijs won't let her apologize - which I think is a bit stinky of him. Then he goes off to Northern Ireland to put himself in harms way for a bit. She still feels horrible - he's gone for days, then comes back just barely in time for the hospital ball. When he dances the obligatory last waltz with her, she takes the opportunity to tell him that she loves him...he waltzes her out to the conservatory...I love you too, snogging, what do we do now? Let's go home! The end.
Verdict: I wasn't too sure of this one at the start - when Beatrice and Gijs first meet she's snappy and rude. I thought to myself, "Oh brother! Not another one of those." And it wasn't. Thankfully Beatrice warms up to Gijs pretty quickly - and manages to be fairly honest with him (except for that little thing about being in love...). Gijs was fun for me - he was always teasing her when she talked about the weather, and I do love an ongoing tease - when it's not mean-spirited - which it wasn't. I loved how he was a bit of a matchmaker for Mies and Tom. I didn't love how stand-offish he got all of a sudden when Beatrice reamed him out for staying out late, and then went out of his way to not let her apologize. My other complaint is that not very many of the supporting characters are really fleshed out. Because of that I think I'll give this one a boeuf en croute.
Fashion: Ivory wedding dress, 'safe' dress to meet the in-laws in, Tattersall check suit, hyacinth blue jersey dress worn with low heeled leather lace-ups, silk crêpe in old rose, long velvet coat, dark grey dress with white collar and cuffs, thick tweed skirt, angora sweater.
Food: Lobster mousse twice! pheasant, bombe glacé, castle puddings, lamb cutlets, turkey, Christmas pudding, fruitcake, hospital stodge, chocolate mousse, beef casserole with dumplings, boiled celery in a béchamel sauce (ew).