Seasons of Love Read Online Free PDF

so bad that I don’t even possess enough money for a special licence, let alone a ring.’ He sighed and tried a wistful look.
    ‘An actor’s life is not without its problems, my lord.’
    ‘I’ll see to all that. You just be there.’ Lord Northby pondered on his coming engagements. He didn’t want to miss a day’s shooting. ‘Monday next. Noon. At Stowby parish church. And don’t try to run for it in the meantime or I’ll send my grooms after you.’
    ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, my lord.’
    ‘I’ll bring the girl and her belongings into town for the ceremony, then she’ll be your responsibility. Her damned parents have disowned her.’ His voice became heavily sarcastic. ‘No doubt you can attend to such trifling details as finding lodgings for the two of you?’
    ‘Indeed I can, sir.’ Robert was about to mouth some platitudes about love and being the happiest of men, but the old fellow walked out on him.
    He turned and thumped the table instead. ‘Damn!’ Then he called for brandy and got royally drunk.
    A pale bruised travesty of Robert’s wood nymph was led into Stowby’s parish church on the Monday by her father, who declined to take part in the ceremony, or even to give her away.
    ‘I have come,’ said Septimus Merling coldly to Robert, folding his arms and taking up a position at the rear of the church, ‘only to ensure that justice is done and the baby given a name.
    Albeit a disgraceful name.’
    Helen said nothing. She was white as a sheet and swaying on her feet. Even Robert Perriman felt shocked. What had they done to that poor child? The old fellow had said she’d been beaten, but this - He looked at the lank hair and dull eyes in dismay. Where was his glorious wood-nymph?
    Lord Northby poked Robert with his cane. ‘Go and wait at the front, you.’
    Blank-faced, Helen stumbled down the aisle on Lord Northby’s arm. At the altar, Robert had to support her or she would have fallen.
    Neither of the two principals ever remembered the words they spoke at their wedding ceremony. Helen was conscious only of the pain in her back and the difficulty of standing upright.
    Robert was bitterly aware that he was now trapped in marriage.
    When the ceremony was over, Septimus Merling left the church without speaking to his daughter.
    Lord Northby waited for the newly-weds at the church door. ‘You should know, Perriman, that Helen brings with her a marriage portion of some forty pounds a year, a legacy from an old aunt.’
    Robert smiled. This was more like it.
    ‘It’ll be paid to her quarterly. Here, this is the lawyers’ address in London.’ He gave Perriman a folded piece of paper.
    ‘And the capital sum?’ Robert asked delicately.
    Lord Northby snorted. ‘That’s untouchable and is entailed upon Helen’s eldest daughter.’ Well, it was now. He turned to Helen. ‘I wish you well, my dear. If you’re ever in trouble, you can come to me for help.’
    He then turned and marched out, going across to the Three Feathers for a noggin of ale to take the nasty taste out of his mouth. Merling had half-killed that poor girl. This would be the last favour Lord Northby ever did for him. In fact, he’d tell his servants never to admit the fellow again.
    Helen didn’t even hear what his lordship said. Even clinging to Robert, she could barely manage to stand upright.
    Very conscious of the small group which had gathered outside, Robert helped his wife tenderly down the church steps, found a boy to carry the pitifully small pile of luggage which Merling had dumped in the porch, and took her back to the lodgings he’d found for them.
    There, Helen collapsed on the bed and begged her husband to help her off with her dress. At the sight of his wife’s back, Robert felt distinctly sick, but gathered his wits together and hurried off to find Roxanne and beg her to help him. She might have her faults, she might criticise his acting ability, but the leading lady had a kind heart and a practical