The Secret Letters of Marilyn Monroe and Jacqueline Kennedy by Wendy Leigh Page A

meaning to write to you for the longest time, but today heard something that made it imperative for me to pick up my pen at last.
    Rainier has finally chosen his bride—and she is none other than Grace! Jack was a trifle miffed when he heard the news and, under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear, muttered, “She would have married me if I had asked her.” * I had great difficulty in stifling a smile!
    I am afraid I am dashing this letter off in great haste, as I gave Jack a faithful promise that I would sail with him to Hobe Sound thisafternoon, just the two of us, for once, without the horrendous sisters. All too inviting an opportunity to miss!
    I hope you will have a happy and prosperous New Year and that all your dreams will come true in 1956.
    Warmest regards,
    Josephine
    __________________________
     
    * “Jack was a consummate actor—the best,” wrote Charles Cabot-Winthrop III, who was present when Jack and Jackie read in the newspaper that Grace was engaged. “Of course, he already knew about the engagement from Grace herself. But he threw Jackie the bone of pretending to be jealous. Clever, that. Making Jackie think she had scored points, when all along it was Jack who was doing the scoring. Typical of him. In control, always. Except, perhaps, when it came to Marilyn. Because, really, for Jack, no matter how many he had (and he had plenty), deep down where he really lived, it was always Marilyn, and he knew it.” (See Forever Jack by Charles Cabot-Winthrop III [Washington, D.C.: Hookstead House Books, 1965].)

2 Sutton Place
     
    New York, New York
    Josephine Kendall
    Hickory Hill
    McLean, Virginia
    March 15, 1956
     
    Dear Josephine,
    It’s three in the morning, I can’t sleep, and I want you to he the first to know the reason why. Tonight I went to the opening of My Fair Lady , the Lerner and Low [ sic ] musical, and finally made up my mind to marry him at last.
    Not Mr. G, because I wouldn’t have him anymore, even if he crawled over broken glass, naked. When he thought I was going to marry Rainea [ sic ], for a few weeks, he was everything I have ever wanted—except not married, but that is too much to ask, I know. He treated me as if—to quote Romeo and Juliet , the play I am studying with Lee Strasberg—I was spangled with stars.” But then, as soon as he knew that Rainea [ sic ] was definately [ sic ] marrying Grace and not me, he was back to his old ways again. No more compliments, no more red roses, no more midnight calls. Just the same old G. And I couldn’t bear it.
    My new analyst, Dr. Brandt, says I definately [ sic ] shouldn’t blame myself because G is a classic narcessist [ sic ], a loner whose defenses I temporarily penetrated but who, when he was sure of me again, reverted back to his old pattern. G’s armor, he said, was once more firmly in place, and Ididn’t have a hope in hell—my language, not his—of penetrating it again, unless I found another love with whom to threaten him. But that isn’t why I picked Arthur. I picked Arthur because I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Arthur, as in Arthur Mliller. Writing his name sends shivers up and down my spine. …
    We met many years ago—he spent the entire evening just stroking my toes—I was too young, too dumb, and too much in love with Mr. G to really appreciate him. Now I realize what a wonderful, brilliant, and insightful man he is. My very own Professor Higgins.
    He is so different from Joe. I once gave Joe a gold medallion engraved with that saying from the Little Prince —”True love is visible not to the eyes, but to the heart, for eyes may be deceived.” Joe just looked at it as if it were written in Korean—which he doesn’t even speak. I tried to explain the Little Prince to him, tried to teach him, but he didn’t want to learn. Not that, not anything. But now the tables are turned. Now Arthur teaches me instead. But I am in love with ALL of him, not just his mind. And loving him has made