by Rose Pearson
Katie began playing a country air. The light, cheerful tune was met with approval by the small crowd assembled around the piano. Among the smiling faces, Sarah looked for Mr. Langford. He was no longer standing beside the officers gathered at the piano. Just when he slipped away, she did not know. But he was gone. He had left the music room without taking leave of her or saying good night. If he was unwell, he may have said so. If he preferred her company alone, he may have told her. Instead, he simply vanished.
Finding his departure to be a discomforting sign, she wondered why he had suggested they seek the private confines of the music room. How could he be so charming and so inexplicably rude to her within the same evening? Perhaps, she was mistaken in her regard for him? By every right, she deserved to be disappointed. Forcing herself to smile in the presence of the merry group, she silently criticized herself. She knew practically nothing about him. Forming an attachment was foolhardy. She had no wish to be foolish, not anymore.
As lamentable as it was that he should leave her without a word, she resigned herself to accept it. She mused that it was far better to suffer a moment’s disappointment in the music room than to suffer far worse at the end of the party when he parted from her forever.
Chapter Eleven
Snow fell heavily the following morning and into the early hours of the afternoon, ensuring that the guests both young and old were confined to the house. The music room was a lively place once more with young ladies displaying their accomplishments although Sarah remarked to Jane, that some were undoubtedly more accomplished than others. Her observation was illustrated by the high-pitched singing of Miss Deats, whose playing, while satisfactory, was eclipsed by her voice which was regrettably less than ideal.
The drawing room was the domain of the older ladies of the party, with their embroidery, their gossip, and their tea. The library had become the sanctuary of the gentlemen, the Baron himself as well as the heir to the house of Carmody among them. Sarah felt restless as she looked for Mr. Langford after breakfast and did not see him. If he was at Hatherley, he was concealed. Maybe he had taken ill? She looked for Henry, whom she found seated beside Mr. Grainger.
Without hesitating, she inquired about Mr. Langford. Although, she tried to ask about him in a manner which did not seem to indicate more than a curiosity she would express about any member of the party who was not present.
“Henry, I did not expect to see you without Mr. Langford at your side, is he unwell?”
“I have not heard that he is. No, I do not believe him to be. Why would you expect to see him in the music room with me?”
“He did accompany you to Hatherley, did he not? Why would he not be in your company?”
“He may have his reasons none of which are related to any ill health. You must have mistaken his gregarious nature for his true personality. Charles is a great one for jokes and a game of cards, but he prefers the quiet pursuits far more than any other man I have known. I have often suggested that he is an old man, the way he reads and studies, but he will not change his ways. You have no need to worry about him, I assure you that wherever he may be, he is well.”
“I thought you wrote about his adventures in your letters to Jane, were your stories not true?”
“They were true, all of them. He possesses a spirt that I am unable to equal in all manner of pleasurable pursuit from hunting to fishing, but he is prone to seek his own company for what reason I cannot understand. I have no doubt that he has done just that, and he will make an appearance when he is at a want for divertissement. With so many young women as guests, I doubt he will remain gone for long.”
Mr. Grainger was quick to add a disturbing fact to the disappearance of Mr. Langford as he stated, “If he does not return, I know a few members of our party who shall be disappointed. I have been asked about the whereabouts of Mr. Langford by more than one guest this morning. I find myself surprised, Miss Powell, that you would be among that number.”
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, to ask what he meant by his statement when she thought how she must look. She was a single woman inquiring about the location of a man she barely knew. Her shame was lessened by the knowledge that Mr. Grainger would no longer be under the pretense that she harbored any feelings for him. If she was showing an interest in the dashing Mr. Langford, there could be no doubt as to the cause for her questions. Regretting her lack of subtlety or patience regarding Mr. Langford, she excused herself from the conversation with her cousin and Mr. Grainger. As she left, she chided herself silently for her fascination with Mr. Langford whose habits, like his background, were unknown to her.
Far more startling then her own feelings concerning Mr. Langford was what Mr. Grainger said to her. She recalled his words with clarity and what they must mean. Mr. Langford was handsome, he dressed in the fashions of the day, he made himself essential at any card game. It was inconceivable that she should be the only woman to have received his attentions or reciprocated them. Who else at Hatherley possessed his combination of blue eyes, his confidence and carried himself with an audacity that gave Mr. Langford the air of a man who belonged in the highest circles at court? How many other ladies had also noticed him?
Thankfully, Miss Deats’ time at the piano had come to an end and she was replaced by Miss Hawthorn as Sarah left the music room. In her present state, she did not wish to be lighthearted. Nor did she have any interest in the cheerfulness that was all around her, or the harmless scenes of flirting among the young set. Her need for respite from present company was more than the necessity for quiet. She attributed her unease to something more. She was gripped with a restlessness which made any attempt to settle into a book, a conversation or much else seem insurmountable.
She longed for a walk in the garden. She desperately wanted to be outside, to breath in the cold air, to permit her thoughts to flow as freely and untethered as the great expanses of hills that surrounded the estate. How trapped she felt to be inside when she needed to be unconfined by walls. Was it the air and the freedom of being away from all company that inspired her desire to leave the house? Or was it something more? A desire to be alone, to think of Mr. Langford and examine why or how he had become so dear to her.
Unaware of the direction she was taking, she was lost in her own thoughts as she found herself at the bottom of the stairs in the great hall. How tempting it was to walk up the stairs to the privacy of her chamber which was a short distance up the steps and down the corridor, but she was not certain she would enjoy the privacy afforded by her own room. Her cousins, when they became aware of her absence, would search for her. If they found her in her room, they would be concerned she was ill. What other reason could be the cause for missing the merrymaking in the music room? With her hand on the carved wooden railing and one foot on the first step, she formulated a plan to retrieve her gloves, coat, and bonnet. If she could not stroll around the garden, perhaps a walk around the courtyard would suffice? Yes, she decided, she must leave the house, she simply must. If she did not, she would be miserable as she searched for Mr. Langford wondering why he was not seeking her as she was seeking him.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed that a woman had left the drawing room and was striding towards her. She recognized the woman in an instant as Mrs. Brookes. Her aunt had abandoned the comforts of the drawing room to speak to her. For what reason Sarah could not imagine as she turned to face the woman who rarely showed the slightest regard for her.
“Sarah! Where are you off to? Not upstairs, not alone away from the party. What will people think if it is known that you are not in the music room with my daughters doing as I pay you to do?”
A sleepless night filled with questions and confusion regarding Mr. Langford and his disappearance caused Sarah’s emotions to be dangerously close to exposure. The despair that she felt at her own weakness for his handsome face and kind disposition was just as strong as the irritation she felt at the manner her aunt addressed her. Her aunt stood in the hall, uncaring of anyone
who may pass by, upbraiding Sarah as if she was scolding a scullery maid. For what reason, Sarah could not guess but she accepted that until she found another situation, she was compelled to endure her aunt’s ire and loathing.
“I was going to my room to retrieve my shawl. There is a draft in the music room which I fear may give me a chill,” Sarah replied, hoping her aunt would be satisfied with such a worthless explanation.
“You ungrateful girl! I should not be shocked at you, but I confess myself astounded that you are able to find fault with the rooms here at Hatherley. Do not let the footmen hear you say that. A criticism of the Baron Carmody is most unbecoming of you as you are a guest at his home. Need I remind you that he did not have to permit you, a companion, to be at his dinner table? You will not see any other member of his staff dining among the guests of his party.”
“I shall endeavor to say what I mean differently as I did not mean offense to our gracious host. I am prone to cold, as you well may know. I was seeking my shawl so that I might continue to serve in the capacity that you have paid me, as a companion to my cousins.”
“Your cousins indeed! For the sake of our arrangement, they are not your family, they are your mistresses. I think you forget yourself since they allow you to wear their clothes. None of those dresses you have paid for! When we return to Cheltham I shall see that there are changes which will remind you of your proper place.”
Sarah was mortified that her aunt would dare to speak to her with such venom in so public an arena. It was unthinkable that she should endure her aunt’s criticism when she had done nothing to deserve it. Yet, she was helpless to make any alteration to her situation until after the holiday. As much as she detested the role of a governess, she was willing to consider it. Being employed by people whom she did not know would be preferable to withstanding the continued insults by her aunt. Her aunt’s generosity had been welcomed at one time, but the barrage of affrontery hurled at her was intolerable.
“I did not wish to be interrupted from my tea, but you have proved to be obstinate as you always are. I have seen you seeking out Henry’s acquaintance in the drawing room and here you are walking about the residence as if you had no responsibilities. I am aware that you have left my daughters to return to your chamber to be lazy. I do not pay a wage to you to leave their company nor do I pay you for the slander that may arise from your conspicuous absence. Turn away from the steps this instant and return to the music room.”
Indignantly, Sarah abandoned the steps, as her aunt tapped her foot impatiently. Sarah’s lips formed a tight thin line as she concealed her dissatisfaction. It did not take very much imagination to envision her aunt strolling back into the drawing room, lamenting her fate as a charitable woman who had given a position to her undeserving and impoverished niece. The explanation would be met with sympathy and understanding as her aunt would be hailed as a generous person. Yet, she would be seen as the ungrateful wretch who did not deserve the charity of good people.
Seething in silence, Sarah did all she could to hide her feelings, as her anger was suddenly replaced by disgrace. Footmen were standing in the foyer, guests of his lordship were near in the hall and in the drawing room. How many people heard her aunt’s harsh criticism? What could have prompted her aunt into a display of public censure Sarah did not know, but what she did know was that she was mortified by it. As that mortification coursed through her, she saw to her dismay that the whole affair had been observed. In the great hall, standing beside the cavernous fireplace, stood Mr. Langford. How much of the conversation had he witnessed? It was too terrible to consider that anyone should hear how her aunt treated her, but his opinion mattered exceedingly.
With a huff, her aunt turned on her heel and left Sarah to stand in the hall alone, afraid to meet the eye of Mr. Langford. But he could not be avoided. He walked towards the staircase where she stood. With a nod of his head towards her, he paid little interest to convention as he said, “Miss Powell, forgive me.”
Her aunt was standing in the doorway of the drawing room, her narrow glare evidence that she considered Sarah’s behavior to be less than satisfactory, but the presence of Mr. Langford kept her from saying any more to her at the present. Sarah had a terrible feeling that her aunt would continue to upbraid her later when she was not standing beside Henry’s acquaintance. With one final scowl aimed at her niece, Mrs. Brookes placid expression returned to her face as she disappeared into the drawing room.
Sarah could not bear to look at Mr. Langford. She had no wish to see pity for her condition in his eyes. To endure pity was almost as terrible as shame, thought Sarah as she looked down, her face red with disgrace and indignation. Her breathing was difficult, her anger at her state unchecked but she could not say what she wished. Nor could she do as she chose, not when she was standing in the great hall, not when she was in the presence of Mr. Langford.
The urge to retreat was strong, but so was the dignity she retained despite her aunt’s public censure of her behavior. Tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped them away, squaring her shoulders as she took a deep breath. With her head held up, she looked straight ahead, hoping that she had imagined that he witnessed the whole unfortunate event.
“Miss Powell?” he said.
“Mr. Langford,” she said her voice faint in her own ears.
“May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music room, if that is your destination?” he said as she held out his arm to her.
Sarah looked at him, studied him as she placed her hand on his strong, muscled arm, “Thank you. I was going to the music room as I was commanded to do so by my aunt.”
“I did not hear the details of the conversation as I had entered the great hall a short time ago, but I did understand that she wished you to join your cousins?”
“Yes, she did,” Sarah answered as she stopped walking and stood in front of him, looking up at him, “You did not hear how she spoke to me? I cannot believe that. You are supposed to be honest with me, yet this is the second time you have deceived me. Is it my dignity that you wish to preserve, because I have none left after that display.”
“I do wish to preserve your dignity, but it is more than that. I admire you for your fortitude. It would be pointless to lie to you to say I did not see her mistreatment of you, but I chose to see how you bore it bravely. You did not cower and did not allow her to break your spirit.”
Sarah was so taken by his comment and his reappearance at her side that she did not ask about his abrupt exit from the previous evening. She had no wish to know the answer to that question, an answer which may send her into a deeply troubled state if she were to know the extent of it. After her aunt’s harsh words, she did not want to hear any more painful words that day.
“Thank you, but I assure you my dignity is in tatters and so is my spirit. I wish it were not so, but I did vow to tell you the truth, and so I have.”
“Your spirit is not in tatters; you are stronger than you are aware. Come, let us go to the music room where we will meet with our friends and enjoy an hour together as merry and joyful as if we had no troubles,” he said as he offered his arm to her once more.
“If I accept, you will be seen with me, escorting me. Is that what you wish - to be associated with a paid servant? It does not bother you that I am a woman of no consequence?”
“I would be proud to be counted as your acquaintance.”
His words were well received as she offered him a smile. Strolling together, they walked into the music room, where they were immediately welcomed by the party surrounding the piano. Sarah, with Mr. Langford at her side, fell into songs and merrymaking as much as the other guests of the Baron. Sarah was once again content, even with the specter looming of her aunt’s threats when this holiday was over.
Chapter Twelve
The night of the Christmas ball at Hatherley had come and with it was the end of the party. In the morning, Sarah and her cousins would journey back to Cheltham. Her aunt would do her worst to ensure that S
arah felt her inferiority to her cousins. That terrible fate loomed in her future and so did the fact that she would likely never see Mr. Langford again. She suspected that when she left Hatherley that her friendship with Mr. Langford would also end. She recalled that there had been not a word mentioned by either of them about the future. Despite their pact of candor, neither Sarah nor Mr. Langford had made mention of what would happen after this night.
She wondered as she adjusted the bow in her hair about the nature of their friendship. Had their entire acquaintance been romantic? She thought of the time they were together at Hatherley. After that afternoon spent in the music room among the young set at Hatherley, Mr. Langford and Sarah were together at every turn. He sought her out in the drawing room. He suggested games that were both frivolous and conducive to flirtation. When the sleighs were brought out for a ride, he would not entertain any invitations from the other young women who possessed wealth and rank far superior to Sarah’s. In every way, she thought, he had attached himself to her publicly. She had enjoyed every minute of his attention.
“Are you ready?” The knock on the door and inquiry announced the arrival of Jane and Katie as Sarah tucked an errant curl under the satin ribbon in her hair, a gift from Katie.
“I am ready,” she said as she steadied her nerves, “But I am nervous for some reason.”
“It would not be hard to guess what that reason may be. He has been at your side since he met you,” Katie teased.
“Katie, don’t tease,” Jane said as she smoothed the skirt of her gown.
“How beautiful you both look,” Sarah said with sincerity as she surveyed her cousins in their ball gowns, “There will be no one at the ball who will be as well dressed and comely as you both are. You look ready for a ball in London, not at Hatherley.”