Chapter 11 – Eighteen
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, my beloved Henry asked me to marry him, and I just do not know what I am so supposed to do! I am in such an emotional turmoil...
Today during lessons, he was sitting next to me, holding me, whilst I was trying hard to concentrate on reading a passage out of a book of poems which he had given to me. I can not even remember anymore what the poem was about, as only my mouth moved mechanically, reading the words, but my mind was in completely other spheres; spheres that only consisted of the sweet sensation of Henryʼs fingers stroking my skin and his lips brushing my cheek. His mesmerizing eyes were resting on me as if he was trying to learn my face by heart so that he would have something to remember in the moments that I am not at his side.
Sometimes I believe that I can not distinguish anymore between my dreams and reality. I find myself in a permanent state of sweet intoxication. Henry seems to be an angel who happened to come into my life at a time when I needed him most. Sometimes I look at him and doubt if he is real at all, or if he is just a mere vision of mine, emerging out of hopelessness and despair like a light that has come to save me from damnation.
Oh, if only I was not such a coward... Suddenly I see myself presented with this unique possibility to get away from Damian and to marry Henry, and still I am in double minds about it. Henry makes it all sound so easy, as if it was a walk through the park on a sunny afternoon to follow him to a far away land which I do not know anything about, except for the fact that it is beautiful, as Henry claims. And even he himself, who has never been there before, only relies on the word of his brother.
But then again, I know that my ignorance regarding other countries is not the sole reason why I feel so afraid of following him to America or to any other place in the world. Thinking about it, I could not really care less where we would go if we really went away.
No, there are truly subtler things which make me dither, considerations which I currently find myself unable to share with Henry as I am afraid that, despite his unquestionable understanding and sympathy, he would not comprehend if I told him the truth. And that truth is that I can hardly bear the thought of not knowing what kind of future will await me if I really follow him. I have only known Henry for three weeks. Is that really long enough to judge that he, despite his words, will take care of me and love me till the end of days? I can hardly believe that a girl like me should be capable of binding a wonderful man like him for the rest of her life. What if he leaves me one distant day?What if he finds someone else to love?
If Damian hurt me like that, if he left me eventually, I would not care because I already do not care about him now. Whatever he would do to me would be nothing but a superficial bruise. It would never inflict any pain to my heart.But as for Henry, I would not survive if he did not love me anymore, if he did not care about me anymore, if he left me alone in an unknown place, or if something else would happen and destroy our love.
I would wither like a flower that someone has stomped on.
I am at a crossroads and am highly insecure in terms of making the right decision, in terms of chosing the right way. And there is nobody I can confide in. Certainly, both Henry and Oscar would clearly try to scatter all my doubts. But still, I would not have the guarantee that I long for, a guarantee that nobody can ever give me.
I want to make things right. Not for the sake of Priscilla and Horatio but for my own sake, and for the sake of Henry, my sweet love.
I am desperately waiting for an answer.
And until then, I am torn between my heart that urges me to go and reason that tells me no.
* * *
Henry saw Lady Partridge standing outside in the yard and peering up to the windows, which were so clean now that one could have believed there werenʼt any panes in the frames at all. He thought that if Lady Partridge still found a reason to complain, she truly had to be insane. But eventually, she went back inside, appearing content with the result.
She and her husband had come back from Norwich towards lunchtime, rather exhausted and emotionally churned up but still relieved because Lady Hammersmith was on her way to recovery again.
Lord Partridge had of course found out about Henry and Sarahʼs visit to the Botanic Garden, as shortly after his return some count, whom the Lord knew from casual rounds of cards, knocked at the mansion door, boldly inviting himself in for a cup of tea. Once inside, he had casually mentioned that he had seen Sarah ʻwith some strangerʼ in the Botanic Garden, adding smarmily that he had deemed it necessary to inform the Lord about it. Then he had begun to ask nosy questions until he had been given the desired explanation that the stranger was in fact Sarahʼs tutor. Then he quickly disappeared, obviously eager to spread the news to gossip-hungry village folks.
Despite feeling slightly irritated by this incident, Henry didnʼt really care about it, as Lord Partridge turned out to be quite fond of Henryʼs idea of going to Oxford, although he had not refrained from pointing out that biology was still something that he deemed as not very important when it comes to conversing in society circles. But if it served the purpose of keeping the girl from throwing dung at other people, he wouldnʼt object to it.
Now, Henry was restlessly walking up and down his little room, aware that his and Sarahʼs dissolute sensual life had come to an end, now that the lordship was back. He wondered when he would get another opportunity to be close to Sarah. He definitely didnʼt have the courage to invite her to his room at night, not as long as there was the risk that she would accidentally run into her Uncle Horatio who was equally up at that time, wandering through the house in search of Emily.
Frustrated, Henry realized how unjust and hypocritical it was that he and Sarah truly loved each other but that their love was forbidden, because the exact man who committed adultery night after night didnʼt want them to be together.
He found that all would have been easier to endure if he had known whether Sarah wanted to eventually come with him to America or not. It was obvious that she was thinking about it; or else, he pondered, she would not have questioned him about the details of the journey. He just hoped she would not be thinking about it for too long, because for some reason he had that creepy feeling that there was a certain urge to come to a decision. And he could not say why.
He wondered whether it would help if he sent his brother a telegram in order to ask him to check on possible vacant teaching positions, which he could take up as soon as his feet touched American ground. He supposed that this would give Sarah some assurance that their new life would turn out to be safe and happy, and that they would not be sleeping rough or living off his brotherʼs donations.
But then he worried that this would make her believe that he pushed her. And he didnʼt want that. She was in a rather strange mood anyway. Ever since their heavenly weekend, she had dramatically changed. She was so quiet and absent-minded that Lady Partridge once even inquired if she was ill. Henry knew she wasnʼt ill. He knew that her behavior was a sure sign that she was struggling hard to come to a decision. And the longer she struggled, the more it made Henry wonder what the reason could be that made her hesitate so much.
“You should be happy, my dear,” Lord Partridge kept saying to her during dinners. “It is your birthday on the weekend. And your mother and I am sparing neither trouble nor expense to make this a memorable day for you. You are rather ungrateful, I must say.”
The fact that Sarah didnʼt even give a snappy answer in return as she usually did, was proof to Henry that she had completely other things on her mind. He guessed that, apart from her brooding over Henryʼs proposal, she was surely pondering, just like himself, what surprise Damian could possibly have in store for her. But as for Lord Partridgeʼs remark regarding trouble and expense, Henry was certain that the aim of the Partridgesʼ efforts was not solely to make Sarah happy but to boast with wealth and splendor in front of Damian and the numerous guests who were invited.
The days leading up to the birthday weekend were marked by extensive preparations. Sarah, for example, had to spend hours inside her room in the company of Lady Partridge, Emily, and a French tailor, who were all making her go through strenuous testing phases with regards to dressing her up for that particular glamorous moment on Saturday when she would enter the parlor and when Damian would ask her to open the dance with him.
In the meantime, Thelma and the maids were busy preparing a sumptuous menu. Roderick and Emily had to clean the house from the very top to the very bottom. Every single corner in every single room had to be dusted meticulously, the guestrooms had to be tidied up for those who wanted to stay overnight, the staircases had to be swept, and the chandeliers, the glasses, the plates, and the cutlery all had to be polished. Other than that, a little Austrian chamber music ensemble was hired, invitations were sent out, cigars were ordered, tables decorated, the wine cellar stocked up, and a gaudy miniature statue of a half naked water nymph put up where the broken cherub-and-pansy vase had once stood.
Friday afternoon, when the preparation hysteria had reached its climax, Henry was desperate to get away from it all, and so he asked Angus to bring him to town where he wanted to buy a present for Sarah.
It took him quite a while until he finally found something which was affordable but still special enough to compete with the other guestsʼ gifts. As he didnʼt want to scare Sarah, he refrained from buying her a ring and instead opted for a delicate necklace with a silver cross pendant. Although it had not cost as much as the other pieces of jewelry which Sarah possessed, he was quite sure that she would appreciate this token of his love nevertheless. He was also sure that she wouldnʼt be able to wear it while the Partridges and Damian were around but hoped that at least she would be able to keep it somewhere where it was safely hidden.
She can openly wear it later when we are in America... he hoped.
* * *
And then it came, the important day. All morning, Henry had not been granted the opportunity to congratulate Sarah on her birthday, as right after breakfast she was sent to her room where Emily messed with her hair and the tailor adjusted her dress for the umpteenth time.
Henry was annoyed. He found he should have been given the right to see Sarah at least once before the big celebration started. After all, he was her teacher and he did not see any reason why he should be kept away from her on a day like this.
Lady Partridge was not amused when he politely asked her if he was allowed to congratulate Sarah and give her a gift. She was worried that his interference might disrupt the carefully planned party schedule.
“Roderick and Emily have set up an extra table in the lounge where the guests can leave their presents. You may put yours there. Sarah will have a chance to look at it later once this chaos lies behind us...”
Henry noticed that Lady Partridge was rather irritated and ill-tempered. She was right in the middle of receiving the guests who were gradually arriving, and it seemed to upset her that suddenly there were an awful lot of people filling almost every single room in the house. Even Henry felt as if he was in a hotel since some of the guests would stay overnight and, for this reason, had brought various suitcases with them which were now blocking the corridors. Roderick had the unfortunate task to bring the luggage up to the rooms all by himself; after all, Emily could not help him because she was busy doing Sarahʼs hair.
But no matter how inopportune the moment to approach Lady Partridge might have been, Henry didnʼt intend to give up on convincing her to let him see Sarah.
“What is it, Mr. Abbott? Donʼt you see that I am awfully busy?” Lady Partridge sighed when she saw that Henry was still lingering around her. Suddenly, Henry had a brilliant idea.
“Lady Partridge,” he said firmly, “it is actually quite necessary that I see Miss Sarah before she makes her appearance in front of the guests.”
“Is it? Why?” Lady Partridge looked at him, puzzled.
Henry inched a little closer to her as if he was about to let her in on a major important secret.
“Well, you see,” he whispered, “the problem is that for the past days I have been desperately trying to teach her the dancing steps of the opening Waltz. And I am afraid I have to say that she proved to be more than... well,… incapable of getting it right. I already promised her yesterday that I would see her again today before the actual celebrations will be held, just to help her remember the steps. I mean, it is surely in your interest that she does not cause any embarrassment when she dances with Damian. It might shed a bad light on him—and you, of course.”
Henry cast her a meaningful and conspiratorial glance. The truth was that he had already shown Sarah the dancing steps on Tuesday, and she had done very well right from the start despite the fact that they both had found it very difficult to concentrate on the dancing. After all, their bodies had been rather close to each other, and knowing that it could not go any further than that had been quite hard to bear.
Lady Partridge was immediately alarmed.
“It is most definitely in my interest,” she muttered. “Follow me, I will bring you upstairs at once!”
They were just about to leave, when suddenly Baron Copperwood appeared in the entrance hall, soaking wet as it was raining outside.
“I will be right with you,” Lady Partridge said to Henry, then her grumpy face transformed into a mask of utter delight as she was crossing the hall to receive the Baron, who smiled gleefully at her, took her hand and planted a kiss on it.
“Baron Copperwood, what a pleasure it is that you are honoring us with your presence!” Lady Partridge rejoiced. “I am so terribly sorry that you got wet. Please do join the others in the parlor where Roderick is serving champagne and excellent lumpfish roe. Maybe that serves as a compensation for the bad weather...”
“It surely will,” Baron Copperwood replied happily. “I have been told that the lumpfish roe was exclusively imported from Germany.”
“It has indeed, dear Baron,” Lady Partridge twittered. “Just for you, because we know that you like it so much!”
“Well, at least something the Germans are good for,” Baron Copperwood scoffed before bursting out in boisterous laughter.
“Oh, dear Baron, your humor is always so delightful!” Lady Partridge chuckled. “I hope that you will entertain our guests with your marvelous wit today!”
“I will, Honorable Lady, I will!”
Baron Copperwood bowed slightly and then marched off in direction of the free delicacies, whereas Lady Partridge turned to Henry, her facial expression immediately becoming stern again. Henry could not get rid of the thought that all her friendliness was fake and that deep inside she wished that day would soon come to an end.
She quickly grabbed him by the arm and shoved him up the stairs towards Sarahʼs room.
“Five minutes,” she hissed when they arrived at the upper floor. It sounded like a threat. “Not a second longer. She needs to be ready when Mr. Cox arrives, and we are already terribly late as this tailor has been taking all morning to fix that damn dress...”
Without bothering to knock, she pushed the door open and stormed inside the room.
Sarah stood in the middle of her chamber on a small rostrum. She wore a cream-colored satin dress and tiny elegant shoes. Her face and her cleavage had been generously powdered, and her long curls had been pinned up and decorated with silver hair slides and real white roses. Next to her, kneeling on the floor, was the tailor, a young man with a thin moustache, who was armed with needles and pins and currently in the process of giving Sarahʼs dress its finishing touch.
When Sarah spotted Henry, her eyes widened in surprise and began to sparkle with delight. She looked so happy that Henry worried Lady Partridge might notice the effect that his appearance had on the girl and that she would draw her conclusions from it.
“Madame, I will be finished shortly!” the tailor announced proudly with a strong French accent, and rose to his feet.
Lady Partridge circled Sarah and stared at the dress in awe.
“Thanks God, Monsieur Leblanc! I must say, judging by all that I have seen so far, this is the best work you have ever done. Truly magnifique!”
“Merci Madame, merci beaucoup...” Monsieur Leblanc shyly lowered his gaze.
“Monsieur Leblanc,” Lady Partridge added, “I hope it is of no disturbance to you if Miss Sarah has a quick moment with her teacher. He needs to show her some dancing steps.”
Sarah cast Henry an uncomprehending glance. Henry secretly winked at her. She understood.
“Certainement, Madame,” Monsieur Leblanc said and bowed obediently.
Lady Partridge quickly turned to Henry, a pleading look in her eyes.
“Mr. Abbott, please do what you can in the little time that is left…!”
“I will do my best, as always...” Henry answered reassuringly.
Lady Partridge sighed and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Sarah looked wistfully at Henry. He could see that she would have wanted to throw herself in his arms, just as he wanted to wrap his arms around her. But with Monsieur Leblanc still in the room, they couldnʼt.
“Please, do not mind me. Just pretend that I am not here at all. Mon Dieu, où sont-elles, les aiguilles...?” Monsieur Leblanc sighed as he was quickly creeping along the floor on all fours, searching the ground for some pins which he had dropped during his work.
“Happy birthday, Miss Partridge,” Henry whispered. He handed Sarah the little gift box containing the necklace.
Sarah shyly accepted it.
“Thank you, Mr. Abbott,” she said, her voice breaking. She stepped down from the rostrum and opened the little box, and when she saw the little silver cross in it, her eyes grew wide.
“Mr. Abbott, this is much too expensive!” she exclaimed, appearing sincerely touched by his gesture of still buying her jewelry despite the fact that he didnʼt have a lot of money.
“Please, do not worry about it, Miss Partridge,” Henry answered, a mild smile on his lips.
Sarahʼs eyes looked slightly sad when she held the necklace in her hands and let the delicate chain run through her fingers. Henry knew exactly what she was thinking. She was wondering if she would ever have the chance to wear it.
“Miss Partridge, I promised to show you the dancing steps for the Waltz one last time, do you remember?” Henry said, throwing a side glance down to the tailor, who was still busy searching the ground, cursing.
“I do remember...” Sarah whispered, playing along with Henryʼs lie. Then she took a step torwards Henry and put her hand on his shoulder. Henry in turn placed his hand on her waist and took her other hand in his, then, smiling softly at her, he slowly whirled her around in the tiny room.
Although Sarah was smiling too, her eyes had become slightly moist, and Henry knew that she was filled with the same desire as he was, the desire to spend her birthday together, dance all day long, and then fall into bed at night and make love to each other until dawn.
And although they didnʼt speak, the glances they threw at each other said more than thousand words could have done.
I love you, Sarah.
I love you, too, Henry.
Please, come with me to America.
I have not made a decision yet. I am sorry, Henry...
Suddenly the door flew open again, and Lady Partridge stomped into the room. Henry quickly let go of Sarah.
“Mr. Abbott, I must urge you to go now. Mr. Cox has just arrived! God, Sarah, two flowers have fallen out of your hair! Emily must quickly fix that again… Emily!”
Lady Partridgeʼs scream echoed through the corridor.
“Emily!! God, where the hell is this woman when I need her! Emily!!!”
Henry heard Emily run up the stairs in a rush whilst Monsieur Leblanc had risen from his position on the floor, grabbed his bag of sewing utensils and headed for the door.
“Emily!! Two flowers, two flowers!!” Lady Partridge shouted at Emily, when the latter arrived, and hysterically pointed her skinny index finger over to Sarahʼs hair. Then she grabbed Henry by the arm and brusquely pushed him out of the room.
Henry looked at Sarah one last time, then he heavy-heartedly turned around and went downstairs.
* * *
Damian radiated like the sun. His grin was wider than ever as he was standing in the middle of the parlor amongst all the other guests, vain and proud as a peacock.
It seemed to Henry that Damian considered himself as the most important person in the room and that everybody else was not worthy to kiss his boots. Henry wondered how a young man, hardly older than himself, could be so overly self-confident and entirely lack even the slightest hint of humility.
When Damian saw Henry entering, he shot him a disdainful smile and then turned his face away again in order to continue his animated conversation with Baron Copperwood, who appeared to have taken a particular liking to Damian.
“Would you like a glass of champagne, Mr. Abbott?” Henry suddenly heard Roderickʼs voice next to him. Henry nodded gratefully and took a glass off the tray which the butler held in his hands.
“Would you like some caviar and tuna as well?” Roderick asked.
Henry politely refused. He wasnʼt hungry as he felt his stomach turn at the sight of Damian Cox. And so, he contented himself with his glass of champagne and grumpily strolled over to Oscar, who was standing in a corner, pulling a sour face.
“Are you alright?” Henry asked him.
“Not quite, I am afraid,” Oscar mumbled.
Henry looked at him uncertainly.
“Why is that?”
“You will find out soon enough...” Oscarʼs voice sounded surprisingly bitter and angry. His gaze followed Damian as the latter was marching over to Lord Partridge, who was just about to speak.
“May I have your attention,” Lord Partridge politely addressed the crowd in the room. And although he had not raised his voice, all the guests suddenly fell silent and formed a little circle around the Lord, eager to hear what he had to say.
“I thank you all for being here today in order to celebrate the nineteenth birthday of my dearest daughter Sarah. It is hard to believe how quickly time goes by. Yesterday she was a little child and today she is already a charming, pretty lady.”
Lord Partridge sounded rather sentimental as if he was really moved by his own words.
Next to Henry, Oscar rolled his eyes.
“Hypocrite...” he hissed, seemingly unperturbed by the possible risk that someone apart from Henry could hear him. In fact, a young lady next to him suddenly turned her head and cast him a scandalized look. But Oscar just smiled at her, raised his glass and said, “Cheers.”
The lady eyed him up and down indignantly as if he was mad, and then turned her face away from him in disgust.
Then the door to the parlor opened and Sarah appeared, followed by Lady Partridge who, as Henry noticed, had turned on her fake smile again. The crowd welcomed the two women with applause. Some of the ladies who were present let out a sigh at the sight of Sarahʼs beauty. Some of the men were staring at her for a little bit too long, which made their spouses give them a slight nudge and cast them an angry look as to bring them back to their senses.
As for Sarah, she looked somber and terrified. Henry took a step forward so that she could see him, hoping that she would find a little comfort in knowing that he was there and that she wasnʼt all alone in this moment that so obviously seemed to scare her.
Then Lord Partridge began to speak again.
“I also have the enormous pleasure to announce that Damian Cox is our guest today,” he said. The next moment Damian appeared at his side, flashing his brilliant teeth.
“Dear Damian,” Lord Partridge added solemnly, “it is such an honor to welcome you here today. I am aware of the trouble which you had to go into in order to be able to take the time off, busy as you are.”
Damian made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Ah, itʼs nothing,” he cooed, raising his voice as if he was about to hold a political speech. “How could I not be here on such a special day—a day which is not only marked by something as important as Miss Sarah Partridgeʼs birthday but also marked by something else which is not less important and that I would like to announce here and now! Or would you like to say it, Horatio?”
The two men exchanged secretive, knowing glances.
“No, my dear Damian, I leave it up to you to spread the good news,” Lord Partridge replied.
Damian raised his glass even higher.
“So let me announce then that from today on Miss Sarah and my humble self will be engaged!”
The crowd broke out in cheers, and Lord and Lady Partridge grimaced with happiness and bliss.
Sarah, however, looked rather pale and shocked.
“Henry, are you alright?” Oscar said to Henry.
And as much as Henry wanted to say something to his friend, he couldnʼt. He was numb with disbelief and grief. And so he just stood motionless amidst all the merry people that surrounded him, and blankly glared at Damian. He watched the so despised man take Sarahʼs hand and slip a ring over her finger, watched him drag the girl into the middle of the room and whirl her around on the dance floor as the small ensemble of Austrian violinists began to play a merry tune.
Despite his paralyzed state, Henry felt something boiling inside of him: an enormous anger which fueled his enHe
desire to throw his glass at the wall or bury his fist into Damianʼs face. But he knew he could do neither the one thing nor the other if he didnʼt want to give his feelings for Sarah and his utter disappointment away. Still, his anger wouldnʼt fade. Quite contrary, it was growing and began to mingle with deep exasperation.
“Henry, please tell me, are you alright?!” he heard Oscar next to him say yet again; felt his friendʼs hand squeeze his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.
But Henry just shook Oscar off, whirled around and stormed out of the room. He did not want to leave Sarah alone, but he could not stand the sight of her dancing with Damian either, couldnʼt stand the sight of that sparkling ring on her finger, a ring which had obviously cost a hundred times more than his little plain necklace.
On his way out he almost collided with Lady Partridge.
“Mr. Abbott,” she twittered happily, “I must say you have done tremendously good work!”
“What?” Henry croaked confusedly, not knowing what Lady Partridge was talking about.
“The dancing,” Lady Partridge whispered with a nod over to Sarah. “She is doing exceptionally well.”
“Oh, that...” Henry mumbled when the memory was gradually coming back. He smiled faintly at Lady Partridge, then he excused himself and continued running down the stairs and out of the building. Having arrived outside, he hastened around the corner and disappeared behind a huge rhododendron bush where he vomited.
Bloody caviar... he thought. Then he recalled that he had not touched the caviar at all and wondered what it was that was coming up from his stomach. He came to the conclusion that it had to be pure gall, stimulated by his enormous anger.
When he had finished, he leaned at the wall, exhausted, fighting the tears.
The surprise. That had been it then. I should have known...
“Henry? Henry?! Where are you?”
It was Oscar. He had followed him, and was now fighting his way though the rhododendron bush until he found Henry.
“Watch out, where you treat. I have just been sick.. ” Henry remarked bitterly, pointing his finger at the ground.
“Do you want me to give you something?” Oscar asked, a troubled expression on his face. “I have got some pills to calm you down.”
“I donʼt need pills!” Henry scoffed, his voice becoming louder as his rage intensified. “I need a bloody gun!”
“Henry, I am urging you to be silent. Someone might hear you.”
“I donʼt care. They can all go to hell…” Henry muttered and buried his head in his hands.
“Have you not spoken to Sarah?” Oscar asked him.
“God knows, I have... But she just doesnʼt know what she wants! How can she allow this to happen after... after all that we...we...?”
Henry broke off. He didnʼt want to speak it out loud, didnʼt want to mention in front of Oscar that they had made love to each other, although he was quite sure that Oscar was already well aware of what had been going on within the mansion walls during the Partridgesʼ absence.
“She did not know, Henry,” Oscar explained with a calm and soothing voice. “I witnessed how they told her only ten minutes before she entered the room. Believe me, it took her completely by surprise and she had no chance to revolt against it. And then, what difference would it have made if she had protested… God, you look terrible. Are you sure you do not want me to give you something?”
Henry just shook his head and pushed himself off the wall.
“I need to go back inside,” he growled angrily.
“Henry, please donʼt do anything in a rush now!” Oscar called after him.
I canʼt guarantee for that… Henry thought as he determinedly stomped back inside, leaving Oscar behind in confusion.
In the parlor, the music was still playing.
Without hesitation, Henry crossed the room and walked towards Damian and Sarah, who were sitting next to each other on a settee. Sarah was quietly and incredulously staring at the ring on her finger, looking as if she was still in shock, whereas Damian had turned his back on her and was eagerly conversing with a young earl, who appeared rather spellbound by Damianʼs tales.
“Allegedly it is just as fast as a hackney carriage although it does not need any horses at all,” Damian said, in between taking puffs on a cigar. “And it has a steering wheel and some equipment that you can use for ʻhonkingʼ, as they call it. I suppose I will actually buy two of them: One for little trips cross-country, and one for just showing off.”
Damianʼs thunderous laughter echoed in the room. Then he noticed Henry approaching, and his laughter immediately ebbed, whereas Sarah looked at Henry nervously, as if she was afraid he would start up a fight. But although Henry was still fuming and would have loved to give Damian a punch on the nose, he wasnʼt interested in conjuring up a dispute which, as he knew, wouldnʼt lead anywhere. All he wanted right now was to talk to Sarah.
When he stood in front of Damian, he cleared his throat and forced a charming smile although he was certain that the spiteful look in his eyes gave his true feelings away.
“Would you mind me asking Miss Sarah to grant me the next dance?”
It annoyed him that he had to beg for permission, but he knew that if he simply grabbed Sarah and ignored Damian, a dispute would be inevitable.
Damian pulled a contemplative face as if he had to carefully consider this request. Henry didnʼt fail to notice that Damian deliberately took his time until he answered.
“I do mind, actually,” Damian finally said, first smirking triumphantly, then bursting out into laughter again. “What a cheek to ask!”
To Henryʼs surprise, Sarah suddenly rose from her seat and accepted his extended hand.
“What are you doing?” Damian asked, puzzled.
“I will dance with my tutor,” Sarah answered with a firm voice.
Damian looked at her incomprehendingly and annoyed.
“No, you will not,” he said, trying to hold her back, but she just shook him off.
“This is my birthday,” she hissed, her eyes sparkling dangerously, “and I may dance with whom I like!”
Damianʼs face turned red with anger and his eyes were staring belligerently at Henry as if he was hardly able to contain himself from leaping at Henryʼs throat. But as he obviously didnʼt want to cause a major commotion either, he remained seated and quietly watched Sarah follow Henry onto the dance floor.
Henry put his arm around Sarahʼs waist and began to whirl her around to the sound of the music. As he was holding her hand, he noticed that it was trembling; trembling with fear, anger or desire, he was unable to tell.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Not here,” Sarah hissed through clenched teeth.
“Sarah, I need to talk to you.”
“I said not here…!”
From the corner of his eye, Henry could see that Damian was observing them closely, watching their every movement, his face a grimace of rage.
“When then?” Henry said when he had his back turned on Damian so that the latter couldnʼt see that Henry was talking to Sarah.
Sarah waited until Henry had spun her around again so that now her back was turned on Damian. Then she mumbled, “Midnight. At the stable.”
Abruptly, she let go of Henry and walked back over to the settee in order not to infuriate Damian all too much. Damian immediately took her hand and held it tight as if he was afraid that she would walk out on him again. Then he continued his conversation with the earl as if nothing had happened. But his grin and humor were gone and would not return for the rest of the day.
* * *
Henry was only able to stand the following hours through by drinking lots of wine and by secretly lingering in Sarahʼs vicinity. He was careful, though, to keep a safe distance so that Damian would not get upset; after all, it was evident that the latter was already quite annoyed and wanted Henry gone.
But Henry stayed, all day long, witnessing with gritted teeth how Damian forced one dance after the other on Sarah in order to tease Henry and not to give him another chance to get close to to her.
Unbearably slowly, the hands of the clock were creeping towards midday, towards the afternoon, towards the evening, and finally towards midnight.
At half past eleven, Henry noticed with relief that the party congregation gradually began to disperse. And he wasnʼt the only one who was happy about it. Roderick could hardly keep his eyes open anymore as he was still cruising the room, a tray in his hands, offering the guests the at least twentieth load of lumpfish roe. Henry guessed that from that day on, the poor butler would not want to either see or smell caviar ever again in his miserable servantʼs life.
The guests who did not intend to stay overnight said goodbye and profusely thanked the Partridges for their invitation. Then they went outside, climbed in their coaches which were waiting for them, and disappeared into the dark. The guests who stayed lingered for another while in the parlor, engrossed in conversations circling around the possible looming decay of the British Empire and its endangered supremacy over other countries in terms of industrialization, which Lord Partridge put down as mere panic mongering. Others less fortunate in terms of company, tried hard to secretly tear themselves away from Baron Copperwood, who was completely drunk by now and kept laughing frantically at his own jokes. But whenever one of his tortured listeners tried to withdraw politely, the Baron would grab him by the arm and say ʻWait, I have got one more joke that you will surely find hilarious!ʼ And as his victims didnʼt want to appear rude, they were forced to stay.
At a quarter to midnight, Henry excused himself and pretended to go up to his room. When nobody was looking, he rushed back downstairs and outside where he stumbled across the lawn and tried to find the entrance to the stable in the darkness. Having arrived there, he carefully opened the door and peered inside, but nobody was to be seen apart from the five horses, who were lazily lingering in their stalls, wagging their tails, entirely indifferent to the drama which was soon to take place in their midst.
Staring out into the garden, eagerly waiting for Sarah, Henry wondered how she wanted to manage to sneak out of the house. He knew that she could not leave the party earlier than anyone else; after all, it was her birthday party although nobody seemed to truly care about her. But Henry was sure that as soon as she would disappear, everybody would take it as a sign of disrespect towards her guests.
Eventually, he saw the small flickering light of a lantern glimmering in the dark. With relief, he noticed that it was Sarah hastening towards the stable.
“Sarah...! I am here,” Henry called over to her in a hushed voice, giving her a little fright when he suddenly stepped out of his hiding place behind a heap of hay. Sarah quickly closed the stable door behind her and breathlessly fell into his arms.
“How did you manage do get away from them?” Henry asked excitedly.
“I pretended to have a migraine and said I would go to bed. Then I quickly stole away. The celebration is now over anyway. Thanks be to God...”
“Are you sure nobody saw you?”
Sarah nodded.
Henry took her by the hand and dragged her over to the far end of the stable where it was even darker and safer to talk. He opened the door to one of the stalls and, upon entering, noticed that it was Orionʼs stall. The horse glared at him and then continued chewing on some hay. Henry hoped that it wouldnʼt fart again.
“Good boy...” Sarah whispered, patting the horse, stroking its fur, in an effort not to scare it by their sudden unexpected appearance.
Then she hesitantly turned around to look at Henry, a pitiful expression on her face.
“I swear, I did not know it, Henry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was presented with a fait accompli. There was nothing I could do.”
In the dim glow of the lantern light, Henry noticed tears well up in her eyes. He took her in his arms and rocked her gently.
“Sarah, let us leave tonight,” he whispered. “It is not too late. If we wait a little while until they are all asleep, they will not notice. Walking to Oxford will surely take us a while, but once we are there we will catch the next train to London and talk about where we can go and live together in peace.”
Suddenly, Sarah loosened herself out of his grip and turned away from him.
“My God, Henry...!” she wailed, her voice sounding equally angry and full of despair. “Things are not so easy! I can not come with you just like that!”
“In the name of Christ, why?!” Henry furiously slammed his fist against the stable walls, which made Orion startle.
“Henry, would you please keep your voice down...” Sarah hissed nervously.
A sudden creaking sound made them both freeze and fall silent. Momentarily, they didnʼt dare to move. Henry carefully peered through the bars which surrounded the horse box, but he didnʼt see anything. And apart from the snorting sounds of the horses, it was quiet.
Henry relaxed again.
“Do you remember what you told me about Seneca?” Sarah suddenly said.
“Oh, please donʼt!” Henry rolled his eyes. “Really, you should not take it so seriously what people said in days long gone by! It doesnʼt matter now!”
“It does, Henry… Do you remember what he said about distinguishing between the things we can change and the things we can not change? Maybe it is that you and I have a different view on what can be changed and what can not.”
I should have never talked to her about these things. Itʼs backfiring now...
“Sarah,” Henry said, trying to sound calm and rational, “I truly believe that the situation you find yourself in is one that you can change if you only want to; and I just donʼt understand why you donʼt want it! Is it because you donʼt love me enough?! Please tell me, I need to know!”
“Henry, I have told you at least a hundred times that it is not that I do not love you enough! It is rather because... because... I love you too much! I would break apart if you ever left me!”
“You will bloody break apart if you stay here!” Henry retorted.
“Maybe, but the pain will not be that big.”
“I can not believe what you are just saying...” Henry shook his head. He leaned at the stable walls and closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them again, he would realize that he had just had one of those bad dreams which were haunting him so often recently.
“You are a miracle to me, Henry,” he heard Sarah whisper. “And I am definitely not worth having someone like you...”
Henry let out a bitter laugh.
“I am the son of a worker,” he began. “As a young boy, I occasionally stole food or money. When I am with friends, I tend to drink a lot and use abusive language. And when nobody is watching, I occasionally pick my nose. And you seriously want to tell me that you are not worth having someone like me? What the hell is going on in your mind?!”
“Are you not able to sympathize with me?!” Sarah gave back, her voice full of reproach. “I mean, are you not afraid to lose me, too?”
“I am, or else I wouldnʼt be standing here in the middle of the night, risking my workplace and my neck! And talking about broken hearts: What about me for a change? Have you ever considered that I have a heart and feelings as well? Donʼt you think that my heart will break apart as well if you leave me after all the hours that we spent together and the love we made! You made me addicted. And now you want to drop me—just like that!”
Henry snapped his fingers in the air.
“I never asked you to fall in love with me! It simply happened!” Sarah shouted at him, tears welling up in her eyes again.
“Exactly—it simply happened because love never asks for permission. And why can we not just let it happen then? Maybe it is bloody meant to be—you and I! Maybe there is someone up there, crossing our plans to spend our lives in misery; maybe there is that God who you believed had forgotten about you, and who is sending you this miracle? But you keep your eyes closed!”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her slightly.
“Sarah, do you remember when we talked about miracles?” he said more softly now. “There is something essential I forgot to tell you: When a miracle comes around the corner, we must, of course, take that opportunity instead of letting it pass. It is alright to have fears in life; otherwise we would do all sorts of foolish and risky things. But sometimes fear simply is in the way when it shouldnʼt. Sometimes we must listen to our hearts!”
“God gives me the miracle, Henry, but without the promise that it will last,” Sarah said bitterly. “He has done so before. He took my mother and all that was dear to me and sent me to hell. Who gives me the guarantee that this will not happen to me again, Henry!?”
She began to weep. Her emotional turmoil softened Henryʼs anger. He raised his hand to stroke her cheek and immediately noticed how she melted away under his touch.
“Sarah, what can I do to make you find your trust in life again...and in me?” he whispered, knowing that there was no guarantee that he could offer her. Not the kind of guarantee she wanted to have; a universal guarantee which ruled out all outer threats.
He pressed her close to his body, and she nestled her head at his chest.
Then a floorboard creaked.
And yet another, louder this time.
It didnʼt take Henry long to realize that it werenʼt the horses. No, these were unmistakably human footsteps, coming closer.
Henry and Sarah simultaneously raised their heads. The next moment, their faces were bathed in the light of a lantern, carried by someone standing in the aisle.
“Jeremy...?! What are you doing here?!” Sarah stammered in shock at the sight of the stable boy who had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She quickly slipped out of Henryʼs embrace, opened the door of the horse box, and stepped outside.
Jeremy was piercing her with cold stares.
“I could ask you the same,” he said, his voice as cold as his glances. “Although it seems to be pretty obvious, doesnʼt it?”
Henry felt himself break out in sweat, and his legs threatened to give in. He had been so eager to avoid being spotted by Damian or Lord Partridge that he had completely forgotten about Jeremy. He gathered that the boy had seen either him or Sarah walking over to the stable, had followed them and had sneaked through the unlocked stable door in order to listen to their conversation in hiding. Henry wondered what had made Jeremy loiter outside at the dead of night, but he guessed that it simply had been his secret mission to always be on the lookout for a moment where he would catch Sarah and Henry in the act.
“Jeremy, listen to me…“ Sarah said beseechingly, her voice trembling as she slowly walked towards the stable boy. “Contrary to my father I ... I have never treated you in a bad way, have I? Donʼt you think, it would only be fair if you did me a favor now? I... I urge you not to mention to anyone what you have just heard and seen...”
Jeremy, apparently immune to her pleading, smirked; and in his smirk lay all the satisfaction of a man who had been rejected one time too many and who now saw his chance coming to play the trump card.
“Too late,” he said frostily.
Henry and Sarah were hardly granted any time to let his words sink in, as in the next moment the door to the stable flung wide open and two men with lanterns appeared—Lord Partridge and Damian.
That bloody bastard... Henry thought, not quite sure if he meant Damian or Jeremy. The latter obviously had not only eavesdropped on their conversation but had also run back to the house at speed of light in order to rally Damian and the Lord.
Henry racked his brain how he could have avoided this situation but didnʼt come to any conclusion. It seemed as if fate simply had decided to entirely mess up his plans. And there was nothing he could have done or could do, now that Jeremy, the Lord and Damian cornered him and Sarah like an animal on a battue.
“What in the name of Christ is going on?!” Lord Partridge demanded to know when he saw Henry step out of the horse stall. He, who normally never lost his cool, appeared as if he was close to a heart attack.
Before Henry could utter something in his and Sarahʼs defence—although he had not the slightest idea what to say—Damian pounced on him, and pushed him hard against the stable walls.
“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, snorting with rage, his temple veins bulging. Entirely out of control, he took a swing in order to punch Henry in the face when suddenly Sarah jumped at him, angrily pounding him with her fists, scratching him with her fingernails, but he just pushed her aside so that she fell onto a bundle of hay in the corner.
It was then that Lord Partridge finally interfered.
“Damian, please, pull yourself together!” he demanded, grabbing Damianʼs arm in an attempt to hold him back. Reluctantly, Damian let go of Henry and—in a final effort to demonstrate his contempt—spat at Henryʼs feet.
Lord Partridge turned to Henry.
“Mr. Abbott, I am horrified!” he thundered. “Is that the outcome of my endless trust in you?!”
“Lord Partridge, it was me making a pass at your daughter, not the other way round!” Henry, who had never seen the Lord that emotional, hastened to say. “It is not her fault. I am to blame!”
Upon hearing Henry confess, Damianʼs anger flared up again.
“Horatio, I told you it was not a good idea to have him around!” he exploded, pointing an accusing finger at Henry and stomping his foot like a little angry child.
“Damian, calm down, please!” Lord Partridge barked. “I do agree with you that it was a terrible mistake to believe that a young man like Mr. Abbott could be good for Sarah. But as she had never shown any interest in the young men I introduced to her, I did not expect there to be any danger... Anyway, our guests are the highest priority now. By no means at all, must they become aware of what has happened. Do me the favor to bring Sarah back inside the house, Damian. And do not forget: composure, Damian, composure. Try to avoid causing a sensation. The same goes for you, Sarah.”
Sarah hit Damian with her fists again and started to cry when the latter grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the stable. Henry wanted to run after them and free Sarah from Damianʼs grip, but suddenly Jeremy appeared next to him, armed with a huge pitchfork.
Then Lord Partridge began to speak again.
“Mr. Abbott, you have definitely broken a record in being the one teacher who spent the shortest time under this roof. I want you to pack your things and leave—at once.”
Shooting Henry a rather frosty look, the Lord turned on his heel and marched off.
Jeremy smirked at Henry. He gave him a prick with the fork and urged him to move.
“I donʼt need an escort!” Henry muttered. But Jeremy just grinned and then followed Henry all the way back to the mansion. He wouldnʼt even leave Henryʼs side when the latter entered the building and rushed upstairs to his room in order to pack his belongings.
As Henry had not brought many things from London, it only took him a couple of minutes until he was ready to go. He didnʼt mind leaving. In fact, he couldnʼt get away from the mansion quick enough.
But he wouldnʼt go without Sarah.
When he walked downstairs he found Lord Partridge and, to his surprise, Oscar waiting for him in the entrance hall. Apart from that, nobody else was around as all guests were currently on the upper floors, making themselves comfortable in the spare rooms. Judging by their merry laughter, Henry gathered that they were really entirely ignorant of what was going on.
As for Oscar, Henry guessed that the doctor had somehow become aware of what had happened, or that someone had told him. Henry knew that he wouldnʼt have any chance to talk to Oscar, his only ally, alone. And this he highly regretted because he was all too keen on knowing where Sarah was and if she was alright. But then again he guessed that Damian had locked her in her room and that she was of course in a more than pitiful state.
“Angus will drive you to the station in town,” Lord Partridge said coolly. “I am not having the people say I was inhuman.”
“Donʼt bother. I will walk,” Henry retorted. He didnʼt want Angus to drive him to town, even if it meant a longer walk through the night. After all, he could do with some fresh air and, apart from that, it wasnʼt his intention to leave straight away.
When Henry arrived at the door, Oscar suddenly stopped him.
“It was still a pleasure to spend the weekend in London with you, Mr. Abbott,” he said, sounding calm and reserved. Henry knew that Oscar couldnʼt afford to show any kind of sympathy or friendliness with his brother-in-law standing right next to him, but from the slightly troubled expression on the doctorʼs face, Henry could gather that Oscar was in fact in a terrible turmoil and probably would have loved to leave with Henry if it had not been for Sarah.
Oscar extended his hand to Henry, and when Henry returned the handshake he could feel that the doctor secretly passed him a small piece of paper. A note.
Oscar let go of Henryʼs hand, then he hesitantly turned away and glumly walked upstairs.
The note carefully hidden in his fist, Henry stepped out into the night, still followed by Jeremy who proudly carried his pitchfork.
“I will accompany you to the gates in order to make sure that you really leave,” the stable boy said, his voice dripping with gloat.
“Donʼt be ridiculous...” Henry scoffed and walked off. But Jeremy wouldnʼt go away and followed Henry like a shadow over to the main gate where he let him out and closed the gate behind him, locking it thoroughly. Then, with a smirk on his face, he marched back to the mansion, whistling a merry tune.
Pretending to head straight to Oxford, Henry walked along the path which led away from the mansion and towards the main road to town. After a few minutes, however, he abruptly turned around and hastened back to the Partridgesʼ estate where he hid in the corn field opposite the main entrance gate and watched Jeremy from afar as the latter was performing his patrol rounds in the garden. The boy was still armed with the pitchfork and obviously felt proud and important—more than ever before.
Henry waited for three seemingly endless hours until he noticed to his surprise that Jeremy had fallen asleep and was now lying slumped on a bench, snoring peacefully.
That will cost you your work and your head, you silly fool... Henry thought gloatingly.
He laboriously clambered up the high iron fence, ripped his trousers on the way, and let himself plump down to the ground on the other side.
Only the pale light of the moon, which every now and then emerged from behind some ominous-looking clouds, helped Henry to find his way as he very carefully sneaked through the garden in the darkness, past snoring Jeremy, until he eventually came to a halt in front of Sarahʼs bedroom window. He bent down to pick up some gravel from the ground and then hurled it at the window. After a few seconds only, Sarah appeared behind it, just as if she had already expected him. She appeared all churned up and devastated, and her eyes were red from crying.
Henry wanted to give her a sign, one that indicated that she should try and steal away in order to take this final opportunity to run away with him, but before he had a chance to, Sarah carefully opened the window and then threw something down to him. Henry noticed that it was an envelope. He hurried over to the spot where it was about to drop and caught it quickly, afraid that even the faintest sound of it falling onto the ground could make a noise and wake Jeremy from his slumber.
Reluctantly, he opened the envelope which contained a letter and numerous other sheets of paper with Sarahʼs handwriting on it. An uneasy feeling in his gut, Henry began to read the letter first.
It said:
My beloved Henry,
I am so terribly sorry! Please forgive me for having ruined it all for us…
You were so right. I should have taken the chances that fate offered me. But please believe me, I have my reasons for turning them down; although these reasons might be entirely incomprehensible to you.
I would like to ask you to accept these pages which I have torn out of my diary and which represent a written record of the unforgettable time we spent together. Please read them, and I hope they will make you see how much I feel for you so that you need not doubt anymore that my love for you was and still is genuine. And maybe upon reading, you will also see the fear that I carry inside of me and that keeps me more imprisoned than this house.
Writing these lines fills me with endless grief because there is something I need to ask of you, my dear Henry. I need to ask you to stay away from me. I have seen your willpower and determination, and your wonderful ability to paint mental pictures of a distant paradise that might or might not have become reality. Still, I am urging you to believe me that it is better for your own sake if you do not pursue me anymore. I do not want you to get into any more trouble, any more pain, just because I am such a coward...
Never forget that I will always love you, Henry, and that I have never loved anyone as much as you.
You are a treasure to me. And you will have a special place in my heart for all my live.
Sarah
Henry gazed at the letter incredulously. There was this strange sensation again, that numbness which he had felt earlier that day when he had seen Damian slipping the ring over Sarahʼs finger; and there was a nausea and a pain, just as if someone had hit him in the stomach.
Dazed and heartbroken, he folded the paper and stuck it back in the envelope.
He slowly raised his head and looked up to Sarah, who was still standing at the window, sadness and despair written all over her face, tears running down her cheeks.
“I am not going to give up on you that easily, Sarah,” Henry mumbled quietly to himself, not caring anymore if someone could hear him or not.
Then he hesitantly turned around and left without looking back.
Nobody saw him and nobody heard him when he crossed the garden one last time, when he climbed up the fence and let himself fall down the other side. He grabbed his luggage which he had hidden in the corn field, then he trudged along the road leading to Oxford.
After approximately two hours he finally arrived in town. He headed for the train station and when he got there, he entered the railway platform and let himself sink down onto the ground, feeling tired and exhausted.
More than ever he wished that he could talk to Oscar now. But the latter was staying at the mansion that night as he was expected to attend some special birthday brunch the next morning—something he was not particularly looking forward to, as Oscar had secretly told Henry earlier that day.
But then Henry wondered if it really would have been of any use if Oscar had been there right now, giving Henry the chance to unburden his heart. What kind of help could Oscar have offered him in his mission to free a girl that didnʼt want to be freed at all?
Suddenly, he remembered the note Oscar had given him shortly before Henryʼs involuntary departure.
He took it out of his trouser pocket, unfolded it and began to read.
Henry,
Please, write to me and tell me your address as soon as you have one.
We need to stay in touch!
Always your friend - Oscar
PS: I have never got the chance to tell you how ʻMyriadsʼ, the theatre play, ended - Lucinda and Bunbury ultimately get together. Just thought I should let you know.
Laughing bitterly at Oscarʼs final remark, Henry stuck the paper back into his pocket. Then he closed his eyes and tried to find some sleep while he was waiting for the arrival of the morning train to London and a sign which would tell him that his life still had some meaning.