He had insisted too on new corsets, or ‘French stays’ as the lady in the store had called them. They started much lower, concentrating on her waist area alone, not going anywhere near her bust or hips at all. “Madam is quite right,” the assistant had told her. “With such an admirable figure, you do not need to be so laced in like a fat old dowager from shoulder to thigh.” Nye certainly appreciated the scantier corsets and the pretty underwear, but to her surprise Mina found she delighted in them as well.
She had been spoiled rotten these last three days. He had not only replenished her wardrobe, but also bought her a number of trinkets and toiletries, enough to cover the dressing table back home. Something had only to catch her eye and he would summon immediately for it to be wrapped up in tissue and ribbon for her.
She had a cut-glass bottle of new French perfume, pearl powders, lip salves and a travelling case lined with sea-green silk, decked out with an array of silver-backed brushes, matching manicure set, and a vanity mirror all engraved with her initials. She had new delicate grey gloves trimmed in black, a fashionable new bonnet with a puffed and gathered crown and the smartest pair of new ankle boots of the softest leather.
Not only that, but Nye had wined and dined her, taken her to the theatre, to the Italian opera though he had yawned throughout the performance, and to the museum and to the art gallery. That very evening they had been out for what Nathaniel Jones had called a ‘slap-up’ celebration meal at one of the finest hotels.
It had been attended by several of Nye’s fellow boxers, who were in Exeter for some sporting event. Nat Jones had treated all of them as his guests and Mina dreaded to think of the size of the bill, he must have picked up afterward for there had been six courses and a procession of bottles of the finest champagne.
Mina had been quite agog to see what everyone wore for their night on the town. Clem had been resplendent in a lilac cravat with a diamond-studded tiepin in the shape of a lucky horseshoe, that she had been quite dazzled by. He had escorted no-one on his arm, though he eyed many passing beauties with his lazy smile of appreciation and seemed to draw just as much covert attention back from them.
Jeb had bought Effie, who had been decked out a low-cut gown of purple satin trimmed with gold lace that Mina had quite blinked to behold. Dot had not been there, for Nat had been unable to tear her away from her beloved London, but there was a young buck called Barty Ewell, with pomaded locks who Effie told her in a whisper was expected to the next big thing in lightweight boxing.
Barty escorted a very giggly blonde called Ruby, that Effie said was a dancing girl ‘with airs above her station’. Mina who caught Ruby eyeing Nye speculatively on not one, but two occasions during the meal, was inclined to agree and kept a beady eye on her, until the girl got the message that Nye’s ‘missus’ was proprietary.
Deep down, Mina could not really blame her, for it seemed to her that Nye in his black dress trousers and scarlet striped waistcoat was quite the handsomest man in the room, despite the strong competition from their own table. She could barely keep her eyes from him and found herself reaching for his hand on several occasions in a public show of her affection quite unlike her previous self. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from touching him these days. Luckily, he seemed to like these bursts of spontaneous affection and actively encouraged them.
When the main course was served, a toast was raised to ‘Nye’s pretty bride’ and Mina blushed as though she were indeed a newly-wed and not a wife of nearly two months standing. When she’d raised the first spoonful of lemon trifle to her lips, she had paused as everyone had let out a wild cheer. Looking down in astonishment, she’d found a gold band set with three diamonds glinting up at her from the swirl of cream and sponge.
“Don’t swallow it,” Nye had advised, leaning forward. “It’s your wedding ring.”
“Oh Nye!”
He had wiped it clean with a napkin. “Not sure that was such a good idea,” he’d murmured ruefully as he slipped it on her finger.
“We must be bankrupt after this weekend,” she said. “But I cannot regret it!”
“Not bankrupt.” He laughed. “Though I have spent all my ill-gotten gains. Just as well.” He winked. “In case those Riding Officers ever come poking and prying into our affairs again. Let them,” he said recklessly after he’d kissed her soundly to the accompanying whoops and cheers of his companions. “For they won’t find any skeletons now.”
Mina had bit her lip and drank down her glass of champagne, for she knew she was sadly strait-laced compared to their current company and did not want everyone to think Nye’s wife uptight or prim. If they thought it, they did not voice it and after her second glass of champagne, Mina no longer felt conscious of the stares of everyone else in the restaurant. Indeed, she was quite sure half of them were of looks of envy, for theirs was quite the liveliest party in the whole venue and certainly with the most striking looking men.
Mina sighed now as she removed the mother of pearl clips from her hair that Nye had bought, and ran a brush through her locks. “Effie was in fine looks tonight, I thought. I wonder Jeb does not marry her,” she mused aloud. “She’d make him a fine wife, I’m sure. She’s so exceedingly kind-hearted.”
Nye snorted. “She was a pick-pocket from an east end slum when Jeb took up with her. Don’t go running away with the notion she’s some sweet thing from the wrong side of the tracks. She’d cut your purse strings soon as look at you.”
Mina set her brush down, her breath coming fast. “You’re wrong Nye, and in any case, I don’t care if she was a thief or where she’s from. She was the only person who was kind to me on my wedding day and I will never forget that!” Her voice broke with emotion over the last few words, and flushing to the roots of her hair, a mortified Mina bounced up from her seat and ran into the adjoining bathroom, bolting the door shut.
“Mina!” Nye hammered on the door, close behind her. Indeed, she’d only just managed to slam the door in his face. “Open this door!”
“No, I’m getting undressed, give me a minute,” she lied in a wobbly voice. Why, oh why were tears coursing down her cheeks? She was acting like a complete fool! She made a grab for a face cloth.
“I’ll break this door down,” he threatened, rattling at the catch.
“Nye, please just give me a moment!” she begged, furiously wiping her eyes. “Please!”
There was a loud bang and a splintering of wood and Mina screamed, wheeling around as the door swung violently back and lurched off its hinges. “Nye!” she gasped in dismay. He was already striding through, yanking her roughly into his arms. “Nye – the door!” she wailed, looking at where it hung drunkenly off its hinges.
“Fuck the door,” he said succinctly and scooped her up into his arms. An urgent hammering started at the door leading from the corridor. Nye strode straight over to it, with Mina still in his arms and threw it open.
“Sir!” started an outraged hotel employee.
“My wife fainted in the bathroom,” he said coolly. “Put the damages on my bill.” Then he pushed the door shut with one booted foot. Mina, her eyes very wide, saw the tight disapproving faces of a few other guests focused on them. ‘Riff-raff’, she saw one old woman whisper loudly to her companion.