Chapter 7 – The Boathouse
When he had fallen asleep the night before, Henry had envisaged Sarahʼs face in every detail, wallowing in the memory of her mahogany irises and her full lips. And upon waking the next morning he saw her again, her hair, her smile, the yearning in her eyes. And all the while he was quite certain that in his visions she looked exactly the way she did in reality.
But then, when she entered the classroom—even fifteen minutes too early this time—it struck him how misleading his memory had been. With her brown curls falling over her shoulders and that shy but still curious look in her eyes, she was so much more beautiful than in his wildest dreams.
A cautious smile on her lips, she nervously hovered in the doorway, her books pressed to her chest, as if she didnʼt dare to come in.
“It is scary, isnʼt it?” she whispered.
“What is scary?” Henry asked her softly.
“Love.”
Henry nodded.
“It is indeed...”
Overwhelmed by her sweetness, he slowly walked towards her, realizing that she was right: It was scary, that feeling of completely lying at someone elseʼs feet and of being completely lost in love.
Henry raised his hand and almost reverentially touched Sarahʼs face, gingerly caressing her cheek and tracing the curves of her mouth with his fingertips. Sarah closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips, waiting for him to kiss her. When he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, she carelessly let her books and pencils fall onto the floor, flung her arms around his shoulders, and eagerly pressed her lips onto his mouth which was impatiently seeking hers. Henry shoved her into the farthest corner of the room behind the curtain, and gently pushed her back against the wall. Sarah gasped when he kissed her, when he let almost all his tension out on her which had built up during the night. And yet to him it still seemed that it was not enough. He wanted her so much more than she was able to imagine.
Suddenly, he felt her slightly stiffen in his arms, and her reaction made him come back to his senses. He realized that he needed to quickly cool his surging passion in order not to scare her, which was so obviously the case. She wasnʼt ready to be received so fiercely although a certain glow in her eyes told him that his straightforward manner had also fascinated her in some way. Still, he knew that he had to bear in mind that she was a lot younger than him and quite inexperienced. He supposed that she was currently being tossed around by a whole range of new emotions which she first had to learn to deal with. And somehow he could even identify with her, as he too had to come to terms with this new and much more serious way of feeling for someone else.
In his attempt to show consideration for Sarahʼs fears, he slightly loosened his grip around her.
“Please, forgive me,” he whispered and kissed her again, but this time it was just a very gentle and tender kiss which made her sigh with pleasure.
Henry pondered how they were supposed to fill the upcoming hours with serious studying when their minds were so fixated on each other. Still, he found that they couldnʼt spend the entire time without at least pretending to do lessons. After all, Emily and Roderick kept rushing along the corridor while they were going after their work; filling up the candle holders, cleaning the floors, tidying the rooms, emptying the chamber pots. And after that, Lady Partridge would conduct her inspection in order to make sure that everything had been done according to her instructions. Henry gathered that it would raise suspicion if the lot of them didnʼt hear any voices coming out of the little classroom all morning.
With a heavy heart, he picked up Sarahʼs books and writing utensils from the ground and gave them to her as she sat down on her chair. Then he took his chair, sat down next to Sarah at her desk and held her hand.
“I have not done my homework,” Sarah nibbled at her pencil, smiling guiltily at Henry.
“I could not care less,” Henry answered, absent-mindedly smothering her fingers with gentle kisses.
“But I have an adequate excuse,” Sarah added. “The reason is, I was far too busy thinking of you…”
“I was thinking of you too, Sarah...”
It was an almost impossible task to hold a somewhat decent lesson. Both their concentration left a lot to be desired. Apart from that, Sarah didnʼt remember anything at all of what Henry had taught her about colonies, kings, and photosynthesis. But nothing of it mattered to Henry now. He didnʼt see himself as Sarahʼs tutor anymore anyway, but as her lover. Forgotten were all his good intentions to succeed in terms of educating Sarah the way the Partridges wanted it. Still, he found that he had not failed either; he had not failed in giving a little bit of healing to Sarahʼs soul.
Towards the end of lessons, Henry could clearly feel the girlʼs spirits sink, just like his own. Again, time had flown by at incredible speed.
“Our moments together are much too short compared to the moments that we are apart...” Sarah whimpered. A heartbroken look in her eyes, she grabbed her books and reluctantly walked over to the door.
“You are right...” Henry sighed, stroking the girl's face. Sarah closed her eyes and nestled her cheek into the warmth of his hand.
Suddenly, her face lightened up.
“Henry, you could meet me at the lake!”
Henryʼs forehead crinkled in concern at the thought of it.
“Sarah, I think this is too dangerous,” he answered softly, fighting the temptation to agree to her plan as there was nothing he would have loved to do more than see her again in the afternoon.
“It is not dangerous at all!” Sarah excitedly drummed her hands on his chest. “I will tell my aunt that I am going for a ride, which is nothing unusual. And you could tell her that you will go for a walk, which is nothing unusual either.”
“And then?” Henry asked uncertainly.
“Of course, you will need to leave a little bit later than I, maybe an hour. You will take the route through the forest and I will ride around the lake, coming from the other direction. Nobody will see us together.”
Henry considered this for a moment while Sarah eagerly searched his face for a sign that he would play along.
“Is your uncle out hunting today?” Henry asked. “I do not want him to see me staggering through the forest, with or without you. He will just ask me silly questions.”
“I can tell for sure that he will be out in town, visiting his factory. Some of his employees are planning a riot, because they are not happy with the working conditions and the money he pays them. Be sure that it will take him all day to calm down the outraged folks...”
Henry was still not entirely convinced.
“Somebody else might see us at the lake.”
“Do you not want to be with me, Henry…?” Waves of disappointment washed over Sarahʼs face. Henry knew the reason why. He too hated the thought of yet another endless afternoon without a chance to see and touch each other, an afternoon which seamlessly went over into an evening that only consisted of sitting at the dinner table, miles away from each other, with him and Sarah not even daring to exchange glances for fear someone might interpret their looks the wrong way—or rather the right way.
“Sarah, I am craving to be with you,” Henry said. He quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “But I do not want to risk that your aunt and uncle find out about us and tear us apart. For the time being, we at least have the possibility to meet in here. It is better than not being together at all, isnʼt it?”
Sarah nodded half-heartedly although Henry could see that she was still sad. And he could more than understand her. No, the mornings simply werenʼt enough because even then they werenʼt really safe and freed of the impression that the Partridgesʼ spirit lingered in every corner.
“We... we would not be just at the lake, you know...” Sarah said, hesitantly. “There is a place nearby where nobody ever goes. And there is an old little boathouse...”
Henry pricked his ears.
Boathouse.
The word sounded utterly alluring. Still, he could sense that Sarah was unsure if it had been a good idea to tell him about it. He guessed that she was somewhat worried to be alone with him after his impetuous reception earlier on.
“It is the safest place to... talk and… and… just be together, holding hands…” she quickly added.
Henry grinned at her and tenderly wiped a strand of hair out of her face.
“Alright, I will come to the boathouse. And do not worry. I will behave in an exemplary manner,” he said softly.
Sarah smiled in relief before her smile faded into a frown.
“Do you still remember the way to the lake, though?”
“I am afraid, I have no recollection of it whatsoever,” Henry admitted, remembering that the day before he only had eyes for Sarah. He had not paid attention in any way to his surroundings.
“I will do a little sketch for you and push it underneath your door after lunch,” Sarah said merrily. And before Henry had a chance to air any more doubts about the plan, Sarah gave him a quick peck on his nose and rushed out of the classroom.
* * *
Stumbling through the thicket, Henry worried that he would neither find the place at the lake nor his way back home again. Sarahʼs laboriously drawn sketch of the forest had not helped him very much. Instead, it had rather confused him. After all, he had spent at least twenty minutes being on the lookout for a stone which, according to Sarahʼs description, was supposed to look like a split scull. Next, he had gone in search of a tree trunk showing a knothole which allegedly bore a striking resemblance to ʻthe face of a madly laughing witch.ʼ He came to the conclusion that Sarah had a pretty fertile imagination. Still, he had needed to find the stone and the trunk, otherwise he would not have known his way to the next clue which said, ʻonce you have found the stone and the trunk, you must walk past the bush with the little white berries of which you told me one should not eat them because they can cause congestion. Then turn left.ʼ Henry was glad the Sarah had not advised him to look for the little roe deer and ask it for further directions.
After having discovered the old graveyard by pure chance, Henry decided to rely on the moss growing at the trees rather than Sarahʼs little map. Eventually, he reached the meadow with the marguerites and lilies and knew that he would just have to cross it in order to find the lake, where he was supposed to follow a little path along the shore in order to reach his destination.
And indeed, after some hundred yards, he could see it in the distance: the boathouse.
It turned out to be in an overall lousy state, withered and weather-beaten as it was, its rotten stilts in high danger of collapsing. Upon looking closer, though, Henry saw that the water was shallow, and he gathered that the worst thing that could happen to him and Sarah was that their feet got wet in case the boathouse fell apart while they were inside of it.
Apart from that, Henry found that it was indeed the best spot for two lovers to have a secret rendezvous. He also considered himself honored to be the one that Sarah revealed her well-kept secret to, as he was sure that no one else—except for Oscar maybe—knew about the place.
Henry looked around and let his gaze wander over the lake and the surrounding woodlands. It was peaceful, tranquil, and picturesque. After a little while, he saw Sarah in the distance, riding her white stallion elegantly along the shore. Henry found that the sight of hers gave the whole scene a finishing touch. Overwhelmed, he was watching her as she approached, gradually slowed down, and ultimately brought the horse to a halt next to him.
She beamed when she saw him. And when she dismounted the horse, he rushed over to her and caught her with his arms.
“Henry...” she breathed, her eyes fusing with his. In her voice lay utter relief that he had really come. And how could he have not come. Only minutes after lessons had finished, her absence had already tortured him as if someone was driving a thorn through his heart.
Sarah slipped out of his embrace and tied the stallion to a willow tree. The willow was big and lavish enough to help cover the sight of the horse a little bit. But Henry found that there was truly no need to worry that they might be detected. The place was very secluded, and except for a little family of ducks swimming past them, they were alone.
Sarah took Henry by the hand and led him over to the boathouse, which was connected to the land by a little footbridge. The latter creaked dangerously underneath them as they were walking on it.
Upon entering the boathouse, Henry noticed that it didnʼt have a roof; it had collapsed over the years. There was a bench in the corner. Henry checked if it would be strong enough to support him, then he sat down.
Hesitating at first, Sarah stiffly sat down next to him and neatly folded her hands in her lap. Henry sensed that she was a little scared. Smiling in amusement, he took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“I am not a beast,” he said softly.
Sarah shyly avoided his gaze which rested on her.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he was studying her face. “I have never seen a girl as beautiful as you in my entire life...”
“Donʼt be foolish.” Sarah chuckled. “I am certain that you have encountered many women who were much more beautiful than me.”
Henry frowned.
“I think you have the wrong image of me,” he said, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her.
“I do not have any image of you at all, Henry,” Sarah replied, leaning her head against his chest. “I barely know you, but what I do know is that you are a very handsome man; the most handsome I have ever lain eyes on...”
“Do not worry about my past,” Henry whispered into her ear. “Nothing of it matters now that we are together...”
Sarah nodded and seemed to be somewhat content. Henry pondered why she had been so curious about his previous love affairs. Didnʼt these questions only come up if someone was really interested in a relationship? In order to find out if the other person was serious? Was Sarah really considering giving him, Henry, a chance? Did she see more in him than just a welcome distraction to her gloomy days? Did he really represent a serious competition to Damian Cox?
Filled with hope, Henry happily pressed his cheek on hers, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of her delicate body in his arms.
“May I ask you another question?” Sarahʼs voice tore him out of his daze.
“Hmm...” Henry mumbled and began to lovingly nibble at her ear.
“Who is Seneca?” she enquired.
Henry stopped nibbling at her ear.
“What on earth makes you think about him now?” he asked, puzzled.
“Once during class, I noticed that you were reading a book about him,” Sarah said.
“Oh...right...” Henry answered, remembering that particular day when Sarah had not been at all in the mood to converse with him, the day he had let her copy that very long poem into her exercise book. He was surprised at the fact that she had actually noticed what he had been reading.
“Seneca was a poet and philosopher back in ancient Rome,” Henry explained. “He worked as a tutor to Nero, the Emperor. He had known Nero for a long time and they had got on very well with each other. But one day, Nero ordered that Seneca should be killed—or rather... he forced Seneca to commit suicide.”
“How awful!” Sarah pulled an appalled face. “Why did he want Seneca to do this?”
“He accused him of conspiracy. Nero was a cruel tyrant who was always worried that someone might want to bring him down. He did not even refrain from killing his own family. He had his mother executed, for example, and others fed to crocodiles and lions. One day there was a big fire in Rome and many parts of the city burned down. People claimed that Nero had secretly set the city on fire himself because he wanted to build a new palace. But that is just a rumor. Others say he actually made a great effort to help the people who got hurt or who lost their relatives and homes. So there are always two sides to every story.”
“And what about Seneca?” Sarah asked. “What was so special about him that someone would want to write a book about him?”
“Well, although he was facing his own death, Seneca remained incredibly calm and accepted his fate without protesting against it. In his writings he said a couple of wise things about how to cope with situations of frustration and disappointment in general. He claimed that we practically conjure the latter up by simply raising too many hopes and that it does not serve anyone if we throw a tantrum when things do not turn out the way we want them to. He recommended that we should rather change the way we look at life and the way we view these frustrating and disappointing situations, instead of trying to change them by all means.”
“And do you feel frustrated and disappointed because you need to read these kinds of books?” Sarah asked him curiously.
“Occasionally,” Henry admitted, a little bit taken aback by Sarahʼs blunt questions.
“And do you think then that I, for instance, should rather submit to my Uncle Horatioʼs wish and marry Damian Cox instead of revolting against it?”
Henry wasnʼt sure if he liked the turn the conversation was taking. He hesitated before he continued speaking.
“Seneca did not say that we should always submit to everything that comes our way. Otherwise mankind would have never made an effort to improve certain conditions and therefore would have never made great inventions. The secret lies in finding out what can be changed and what can not be changed, Sarah.”
Sarah frowned and pensively stared into space.
“Seneca was an old man who has been dead for almost two thousand years,” Henry said softly. “I do not think it is a good idea to let his ghost linger in here for too long...”
He kissed Sarah on the temple and from the way she snuggled against his chest and closed her eyes, he came to the conclusion that she had finally decided to stop her questioning and that her mind was at ease again.
He slowly let his gaze wander down the length of her body, trying to get a glimps of her legs and feet. But they were safely hidden under her long skirt. The only parts of her body which allowed some speculations about what Sarah could possibly look like underneath her dress were her hands and her bare neck. He bent his head and began to tenderly kiss her right underneath her earlobe, tickling her with the tip of his tongue. Sarah let out a tiny pleasurable sigh. Henry smiled contentedly, realizing that he had obviously found a secret spot which was more sensitive to his touch than others. Fueled by this thought, he continued his play with the tongue and even bit Sarah slightly in order to elicit even more rapturous sounds from of her.
His approach had the desired effect. Sarah sighed yet again and began to move in his arms until she lustfully rubbed her body against him. Henry was certain that, in her sexual innocence, she had no idea what she evoked in him by doing so. He loosened his embrace around her and instead put his hands on her waist. Then he let his hands ever so slowly wander up the sides of her torso and back down again, his fingertips slightly brushing the base of her breasts whenever he moved past them. After a while, though, he let his fingertips move slightly beyond that base, beyond an invisible borderline of which he didnʼt know how far beyond he would be allowed to go. Right now, however, Sarah didnʼt utter a single word which would have indicated him to stop. After yet another little while, Henryʼs hands half-covered both her breasts. He saw her fingers excitedly clenching her dress, but as she still didnʼt say anything he carefully let his hands slip over her breasts and cupped them. And although Sarah was still fully dressed, and although Henryʼs hands were only allowed to touch the fabric and not her skin, the sensation of massaging her firm flesh almost drove him insane.
He began to kiss her neck again, a little more fiercely this time, and he could feel how he gradually relinquished his hold on reality, how he drifted off into realms that only consisted of sweet sensations and wild fantasies of him making love to Sarah.
“Henry...?” he suddenly heard the girl say. She sounded slightly alarmed.
Hesitantly, Henry stopped kissing her and slowly raised his head to look at her.
She smiled at him bashfully.
“Do you remember this morning when you promised me that you would behave in an exemplary way?”
Sensing that Sarah had begun to feel uncomfortable, Henry immediately backed away and removed his hands.
“I am sorry, Sarah! God, I am so sorry…” he exclaimed, feeling a little mean, because deep inside he wasnʼt sorry at all. Quite to the contrary, he was filled with overboarding joy because he had had the chance to touch Sarah in a way that so far he had only been able to do in his dreams. Still, he was worried that he had come across as quite importunate.
Sarah carefully loosened herself out of his embrace. Then she sat up on the bench and straightened her dress.
“I am terribly dizzy...” she said, a coquettish smile spreading across her lips.
Henry grinned at her.
“So am I.”
She caressed his cheek with her fingers, a contemplative, dreamy look in her eyes. Then she nestled her head on his chest and let him hold her and stroke her hair.
“I love you, Henry,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, Sarah,” he answered.
And for the first time in his life, he really meant it.
* * *
After an hour of dozing in the sun with Sarah, Henry went back to the mansion alone. Having arrived there, he took one of his books, went into the garden and made himself comfortable in the shadow of a tree. He tried hard to concentrate on reading, but as Sarah kept creeping back into his mind and filled it with the wonderful memory of her kisses and her sweet sounds of rapture, he soon put the book aside and instead watched some birds.
Sarah came back from her ride about an hour later; just as they had agreed on in order not to stir any suspicion. Henry secretly watched her as she trotted into the garden on her horse. She elegantly slid off the saddle and handed the reins over to Jeremy, who immediately appeared at the stable doors when he had heard her come. Lost in thoughts, she was walking along the gravel path that led over to the front door of the mansion, and so she didnʼt see what Henry saw when he turned his gaze away from her and looked at Jeremy again, who was still standing next to the stable: She didnʼt see that the stable boy was staring after her, longingly, his eyes burning with desire—and hurt; hurt because of obvious, unrequited love.
She didnʼt see how Jeremy suddenly looked over to Henry and that his eyes were green with envy.
* * *
“It seems like Damian and I are not your only admirers,” Henry said to Sarah.
It was Friday morning, and for the past hour he had been watching her draw little pictures into her exercise book.
They simply could not bring themselves to do any learning. They were unable to concentrate on anything else but each other. Apart from that, it was far too warm in the classroom again, but they didnʼt want to go into the garden because it would have proved far too difficult for them to pretend that they werenʼt lovers. And as Lord Partridge had demanded that they shouldn't leave the estate, going to the forest or the lake was out of the question, too.
Sarah had suggested another secret encounter at the boathouse in the afternoon, but Henry had dissuaded her from this plan, gathering that it would be more than conspicuous if they both went for walks or rides in the afternoons, even if they did so at different times.
Sarah frowned in disbelief at Henryʼs remark.
“More admirers? You are fooling me,” she mumbled and continued scribbling into her book.
“I am not,” Henry said, keeping a straight face. He had been quite unsure about how to approach the subject ʻJeremyʼ with her, mainly because of fear that she might say something which would give him the feeling that she liked the stable boy in some way. And he had worried that he might not be able to deal with this truth very well as he tended to be a little jealous. Ultimately, though, he had found that this topic was simply unavoidable because Sarah needed to be informed.
She needed to be more careful. They both needed to be more careful.
“I do not want any more admirers.” Sarah chuckled. It was obvious that she did not take all of this as serious as Henry did. “And who is that supposed to be anyway?”
“Jeremy.”
“What?!”
Sarah laughed out loud and couldnʼt stop doing so for quite a while.
“Jeremy?! The Jeremy from the stable? You must be fooling me!”
Sarahʼs reaction gave Henry the assurance that there was absolutely no reason for his jealousy. It did not give him the assurance, though, that Jeremy could turn out to be a threat to their secret bliss.
Sarahʼs laughing quickly ebbed when she saw Henry watching her with a stern and worried look in his eyes.
“How come... that you know?” she stammered uncertainly.
“Do you remember when you came back from riding yesterday?” Henry began. “He shamelessly stared you down as you were walking back to the house. And then he happened to see me watching you.”
There was a crinkle of concern on Sarahʼs forehead. She started to move uneasily on her chair.
“You mean that... that he might know about us?” she asked nervously.
“No, I do not think that he suspects anything. After all, he did not notice that you were looking at me as well, as you were careful enough not to let it show. But as I unfortunately was not that careful with my own glances, he surely knows now that I have an affinity for you. And it was obvious that he did not like me looking at you at all. I guess that he is jealous that I get to spend so much time with you.”
“How can we be even more careful, Henry? All of this secretiveness is already taking up such an incredible effort.”
“I know…“ Henry answered pensively.
“Henry, you... you would not consider making an end to our... liaison because of this permanent danger of being discovered, would you?” Sarahʼs voice was shaking as she desperately tried not to lose her calm and break out in sobs. “I would not be able to face you in the classroom anymore if we were just teacher and student again. It would be unbearable. It would break my heart!”
Henry quickly got up from his chair, walked around the desk and sat right next to Sarah.
“Do you seriously believe that I would be able to bear it?” he whispered, letting his fingers run through her silken hair. “I would never put an end to our love. Trust me. I am in too deep already...”
Sarah flung her arms around his neck and threw herself at him.
“I need you…” Henry heard her voice next to his ear.
“I need you, too,” he whispered. “I need you, too…”
Later, towards the evening hours and after an extremely boring afternoon which he had spent reading as usual, it dawned on Henry how risky the whole situation really was. He did not worry about his work anymore, nor did he care about the money or raising the ladder.
All he really cared about was Sarah.
But what terrified him was the thought that—if they should ever be detected—he would be thrown out of the house in a high arc and would never see her again. He found that his fears that someone could raise suspicion were justified alone by the fact that Sarah had transformed so much. Their love had transformed her. She was not the Sarah anymore that everybody used to know; the little whirlwind, the constantly raging bull. She hardly screamed and cried anymore, and there were no daily pranks and misdemeanors. Instead, Sarah had become much softer, was not as loud and angry towards the others anymore. He guessed that this and the fact that he had never ever touched the hazelnut rod, had to inevitably leave the Partridges pondering what methods he might use to silence her.
And if the Partridges were ever to find out, what would happen to her then? It did not take Henry long to guess what would happen to her: She would marry Damian Cox. But then again, she would marry him anyway.
But would she really?
With mixed feelings, Henry recalled the secret conversation Oscar and he had had the other day. Oscar had been so utterly certain that Henry would come up with a plan soon. But now here he was, still not having the faintest idea what to do.
I can hardly run away with her…
Or could he? What other option did he have? Officially asking Lord Partridge for Sarahʼs hand in marriage was out of the question. In this respect, he did not doubt Oscarʼs words: The Partridges would never allow him to marry her. Quite contrary, they would probably double up with laughter at the fact that he was so cheeky to believe that he could ever stand a chance.
But if that really only leaves stealing her away from them, would I really have the courage to run away with her? he wondered. Could I really do something like that?
From his position at his bedroom window he saw Sarah strolling aimlessly through the garden in the last glow of the evening sunset. She appeared fidgety and restless; as if she too was lost in thoughts and, just like him, worrying what the future might hold for them. Then, as if she had sensed his glances on her again, she looked up to him, and her wistful gaze hit him and made his heart melt and his body ache for her.
Yes, I could... he thought and winked at her.
She did not respond to him in any way, obviously afraid that someone could watch her. But from the dreamy look in her eyes, Henry could see that she had received his message.
Yes, it was truly an enormous amount of trouble he currently found himself in. There would be a lot of lies, secretiveness, and fear.
But somehow he suddenly knew that this girl was worth it.
He watched Sarah carefully peer left and right, and when she realized that she was alone she looked up to the window again and gave him a broad smile.