Daughters of England

by Philippa Carr

  “Sarah!” he said, with a wonderful tenderness which filled me with great happiness. “Oh, Sarah, I could not live without you.”

  I was silent from sheer joy. He was back, and it seemed in that moment that nothing else mattered.

  “I have come back to ask you to marry me.”

  It could not really be happening. It was something I had longed for in my wildest dreams. It was all too fanstastic to be real. The fire, which seemed like a foretaste of Hell, and now here was…Heaven itself.

  “I want you to forgive me,” he was saying. “What I did…was quite unforgivable. But it has taught me what I should have known before. You see, I am no longer young…I did not think to marry. But why should I not? And who but Sarah, whom I love so deeply that my life is empty and devoid of all happiness without her? You do not answer?”

  “I am wondering,” I said, “if I am dreaming.”

  He had taken my arm. His face was close to mine.

  “We must go somewhere where we can talk.”

  I said on impulse: “You could come to Maggie’s house.”

  “Maggie is still away?” he said with some concern.

  “Oh yes. She is in Dorsetshire with her sister. There are only Martha and Rose at the house. We could talk in the parlor undisturbed.”

  He took my arm and we walked back to the house. I was still refusing to let myself believe I was not dreaming, for if I should awake I felt I should not be able to bear the disappointment that this was only a dream.

  Martha appeared.

  I said: “Martha, I have a friend with me. I have something to discuss with him. Would you bring some refreshments to the parlor?”

  It all sounded natural enough.

  Martha eyed Jack with approval and she went to get some of her homemade wine, on which she set great store.

  As soon as we were alone, he took me in his arms and held me very tightly.

  I withdrew myself. “Martha will be coming back,” I said.

  “Yes, and there is much to arrange.”

  We sat down. He was looking at me with great tenderness and the love was shining in his eyes. I was very happy.

  “I have arranged for the ceremony to take place next Saturday.”

  “How could it be so soon? Is it really possible?”

  “I will make it possible,” he said. “Let me explain. I have a friend. In his house in Knightsbridge he has his chapel. He has a resident priest, who will marry us next Saturday.”

  “I thought that there had to be more time for arrangements.”

  “I will have no delay. I know ways of fixing these matters. Leave it to me.”

  “Who is this friend?”

  “Charles Torrens. He has done this for others of our friends.”

  “Shall I meet him?”

  “In due course. But for the time being I am only concerned with one thing. I want you to be my wife.”

  “You have changed so suddenly,” I said. “It all seems rather like a dream to me.”

  “Understand me. I will be frank. I had no intention of marrying. Why should I…after so many years? I have cherished my freedom. But now, since I met you, I have discovered something about myself, dearest Sarah; I am in love.”

  “Oh, Jack. Are you sure?”

  “I was never more sure of anything in my life. I love you. I want to marry you. Everything has changed. I was foolish. Will you ever forgive me for what I tried to do? I thought I was so worldly…I thought I knew how to live and keep myself free to live my own life. And then, suddenly, I knew. There was no happiness that way. Forgive me, my darling, forget what I tried to do. Now I see everything in its true light. I just hope that you will forgive me, for I find it hard to forgive myself. All I ask you to do is to be ready next Saturday. I shall come here for you and we will go to the priest. Will you do that?”

  “Oh, yes…yes.”

  He kissed me then and said: “There is one thing. Tell no one of this. It is our secret.”

  “Why should I not tell? Martha will have to know.”

  “The servants? Oh, you may tell them you are going to be married. They are Maggie’s servants, are they not? She is still away.”

  “She will get a letter to us, I am sure, when she plans to return. She promised to let me know when she was coming.”

  “Well, she is not here and there is no time to tell her. You will see her when she comes and by that time you and I will be married.”

  “Why must it be a secret?”

  “I will tell you. It is only for a while. Charles Torrens asks it. He is doing this as a great favor to me. If it becomes known others will be asking for it. It is so easy to be married in his chapel by his priest.”

  “But he is allowing you this…er…privilege.”

  “Charles is a good friend of mine. I pleaded with him. I really did. I said I wanted a speedy marriage. I wanted no fuss. For me he is doing this favor.”

  “And so…we shall be married next Saturday. I shall need a gown…a wedding dress.”

  Martha had come in with the wine.

  He gave her a very charming smile, and I saw that he had enchanted her. He put the glass to his lips as though he drank to her.

  “Nectar,” he said.

  She bridled a little. “’Tis a poor thing to what I’ll warrant your lordship is accustomed.”

  “Would that I were accustomed to such a brew as this! It is indeed nectar, good lady. I swear I never tasted better in the whole of my life.”

  “You are teasing me, sir.”

  “I swear not.”

  She went out of the room, slightly pink of skin and with her eyes shining.

  “You won her heart by praising her wine.”

  “An easy conquest,” he said lightly. “Oh, my dearest Sarah, I long for Saturday. Promise, promise me you will be there.”

  “Of course.”

  “And you want this as much as I do? You will not run away from me again?”

  “How could I run away from my husband? But I was saying that I should have had more time. I may not have a wedding dress that is suitable.”

  “Who cares for dresses? I shall not marry a dress. Oh, Sarah, are you as happy as I?”

  “I do not know how happy you are, but if it is only one half of the happiness I feel it is a great deal.”

  “Sarah, my beloved Sarah! Together…just a few more days. Now, let us plan. I shall come for you at six of the clock on Saturday. We shall go to Torrens’s house in Knightsbridge. A little way out, but not too far. And then the ceremony. It will not be long, and I shall take you back to my lodgings and then we shall go away to the country…where we can be alone for a while. London is not the best of places to be in at this time. What say you, Sarah? Are you as eager as I am?”

  “I believe myself to be.”

  He would have taken me into his arms there and then, but I was aware of the close proximity of Martha and Rose. He might have charmed Martha with his compliments on her wine, but I could not imagine what she would have thought had she come in and found a man whom she had not seen until this day embracing me.

  I warned him of this. I said: “This is a small house. The servants are our friends. There is little ceremony.”

  He nodded. “And you will tell them?”

  “I must give them an explanation as to why I shall not be coming back here.”

  “Why not tell them now? Call them. Introduce me as your husband-to-be.”

  “I think that would be the best way of breaking the news.”

  I called them in.

  They looked startled. “Martha, Rose,” I said. “I have something to tell you. I am going to be married.”

  Martha gasped. “What…? You can’t…”

  “She can,” said Jack. “And I insist on it.”

  “I want to introduce Lord Rosslyn, who is to be my husband.”

  They both stared wide-eyed and, in Rose’s case, open-mouthed.

  “We have known each other for some time,” I said. “I
met Lord Rosslyn at the theater. The wedding is on Saturday.”

  I heard Martha murmur: “Lord have mercy on us.”

  Jack smiled on. “He has certainly had mercy on me. I am the happiest man alive.”

  “Who’d a thought it!” said Martha. “Sarah…marrying Lord Rosslyn!”

  “I think,” said Jack, smiling at her, “this is an occasion when we might all drink to the happiness of the bride and groom. Do you have any more of that most excellent wine?”

  “Well, my lord, bless you! I’ve got a dozen or more bottles stowed away in the cellar.”

  “Then to it,” he said.

  “Come on you, Rose, you give me a hand,” said Martha.

  He looked at me and smiled when they had gone.

  “How was that?” he said.

  I was laughing. “You managed them perfectly. Martha is ready to worship you from now on.”

  “And the little speechless one—what effect did it have on her?”

  “She was too bewildered—as well as she might be—to take it all in, but she will think what Martha thinks. Martha will see to that, so you have made a double conquest in this house.”

  “And of all who live in it?” he asked.

  “All,” I assured him.

  It was so wonderful and very amusing. Martha brought in the wine bottle and goblets which were lifted to our health and happiness. Martha declared afterwards that she had never known the like—and I am sure Rose agreed with her.

  So, I was to marry Jack Adair on the following Saturday and the ceremony would take place in the home of a certain Charles Torrens in the village of Knightsbridge, just outside London.

  It was an exciting week. I could not believe it was really happening. Jack called at the house several times and Martha could not contain her pleasure.

  “To think of it,” she said to me. “You…marrying a lord. That’s what comes of being on the stage. Actresses do marry into the aristocracy. And, bless me, he’s a real charmer, that one. I could fancy him myself. Lord Rosslyn, eh? I expect he knows the King. Sarah, I reckon you’ll go to court. Does he really know the King? You know what I mean…talk to him, just as we’re talking now?”

  “I suppose so,” I said. And I thought: How little I know about him. But that was not important. I was going to marry him and his life would be mine.

  “There’s only one thing that’s missing,” said Martha. “Mistress Maggie’s not here. I reckon she’d be so pleased to see you well settled. I used to hear her and Mistress Kitty talking about it…how they wanted the best for you. Well, wouldn’t they like this Lord Rosslyn? You only have to look at him to see what he is. Some of them go round pretending. But you can see what he is…the right article. It’s in every bit of him. Oh yes, he’s a real lord all right.”

  They wanted to know a great deal and sometimes I was rather disconcerted to find I could not answer the simplest of questions. I consoled myself that this would soon be remedied.

  I had told them at the theater that I was leaving to go away, and I was glad that most people were too interested in their own affairs to want to probe too deeply into those of others. I would play for the last time on Friday and the next day…well, I could hardly wait for it to come. I could not tell them at the theater that I was going to marry Lord Rosslyn since he had particularly asked that it should be kept secret, and to mention it there would, I was sure, arouse some interest.

  It seemed a very long week. I made some preparation. I did get a new, rather simple, dress made in time. It had a bodice pointed at the front and rounded behind, a full skirt but slit down the front to show a petticoat of a lighter shade of blue than the dress, with silver thread making a finely traced pattern on it.

  I felt sure that it was to be a simple ceremony, so the dress should not be too elaborate.

  I came home from the theater on that last night. I had never been so excited in my life. Tomorrow was my wedding day. I was in turn exultant and apprehensive.

  Lady Rosslyn. I murmured it to myself. Could it really be me? What would my mother say? And my father and Maria Willerton? Could this really be happening to me?

  He was so distinguished, so handsome, so clearly of another world than that in which I had lived thus far. I began to wonder about my inadequacies. But he loved me. He would look after me. He would help me. And he wanted this marriage. He was so eager. I remembered how, so recently, he had had to satisfy his desires without it. It was only when he failed to do so that he had realized that he wanted to marry me.

  All would be well. How I wished Kitty were here. She would have come to the chapel as a witness. One had to have witnesses, of course, but Jack would arrange that.

  It was wonderful. If only, as Martha had said, Maggie were home. How excited she would be.

  I was waiting long before he arrived in the carriage to take me to Knightsbridge. I went through agonies of fear and doubt as I waited. What if he did not come? What if he never intended to? Was it a huge joke? A revenge on me for refusing him? Terror seized me. He was not coming. I knew that Martha was peering out through the parlor window. Rose was beside her, all agog with excitement.

  “O God,” I prayed, “let him come.”

  I was being foolish. There were five minutes to go.

  And there he was. Martha was at the door.

  I went down and he said: “Sarah…my bride,” and I was happier than I had ever been in my life.

  He kept his arm round me as we rattled on our way out of devastated London to Knightsbridge.

  I had never been there before, but I knew from now on it would always be preserved in my memory.

  “’Tis not a long journey,” said Jack. “We shall soon be there. What a joy that will be. And the ceremony is not of long duration.”

  “There must be witnesses, I am told,” I said.

  “Do not worry your head about that. I have arranged it all. It will be over very soon. We are now crossing the old bridge over the Westbourne, the bridge from which this place gets its name. Now we are almost there. What a desolate place to have built a mansion! But I suppose it was done long ago. Charles was saying the old place goes back some two hundred years. The ancestral home, you know. And that is World’s End…a rather notorious drinking house. Yes, my love. Indeed, we are there.”

  The carriage was drawing up.

  It was certainly an ancient house. We had stopped before the gatehouse with a broad low arch flanked on either side by battlemented towers. It was very imposing with its gables and turrets built in red brick. Indeed, it had the appearance of having stood there for all of two hundred years.

  Jack almost lifted me out of the coach and, as he did so, an old man appeared, evidently some retainer.

  “My lord,” he cried, “my master is waiting for you. All is prepared.”

  We followed him to a large hall with a high vaulted ceiling and many windows. Weapons hung on the walls.

  A young man hurried forward.

  “Charles!” cried Jack. “This is good of you.”

  “It is my pleasure,” said Charles. He was looking at me and smiling warmly.

  “Come along, my dear fellow,” he said. “Introduce me. Are you afraid to let anyone else see her? I must say, that would not surprise me.”

  “Sarah,” said Jack, “this is my good friend Charles Torrens. Charles, you know all about Sarah.”

  “He has not stopped speaking of you for weeks,” said Sir Charles. “You are the luckiest of men, Jack.”

  “I know it well,” said Jack. “Shouldn’t we get along to the chapel?”

  “Impatient bridegroom, we understand your need for haste now that we have seen the beautiful bride for ourselves.”

  “Is the priest here?”

  “Ready and waiting.”

  “And you have the witness?”

  “I have. Blakeman and Jefferson were ready enough to step into the breach and give their services. All is as it should be.”

  “Then let us get to it,” said Jack.


  We were taken from the hall to a room in which two young men were waiting. Jack greeted them warmly and they were introduced to me. They were our two witnesses, James Jefferson, who was about Jack’s age, and Thomas Blakeman, who was much younger.

  “It is good of you to come along,” Jack told them.

  “But of course we came,” said James Jefferson. “We know you’d do the same for us.”

  They were all laughing and merry, but Jack was impatient to have the ceremony performed, and Sir Charles Torrens said we would proceed without delay.

  “I’ll go ahead,” he said, “and tell Reverend Martin that we are ready. He is doubtless deep in prayer. He regards this as a very solemn occasion.”

  Thomas Blakeman said, “Not too solemn, I pray. I am sure Jack will introduce a little gaiety into the proceedings.”

  Jack frowned and Charles Torrens said, “Listen, Blakeman, our friend Jack is about to make his solemn vows. It is not a matter to speak of lightly.”

  “Forgive me,” said Blakeman. “I am sure you are going to be very happy.”

  Reverend Martin was waiting for us in the chapel. He was a man of medium height and was rather unusual-looking. His hair was of a reddish tint of fair and was thin and curly. His pale eyebrows and eyelashes gave him a startled look, and he had a short nose and long upper lip which added to his rather strange appearance. Freckles were visible on his forehead and across his nose. He did not appear somehow to suit his clerical garb and pious demeanor.

  He took my hands and looked into my face.

  “So, this is the bride,” he said. “Mistress, you will have studied the marriage service. You understand the seriousness of this undertaking?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I understand.”

  “That is well.” He glanced at the others. “I should like a few moments alone with the bride.”

  Jack suppressed an impatient protest and Sir Charles laid a hand on his arm.

  “Reverend Martin knows what is meet at such a time, I’m sure.”

  “We shall say a prayer together,” said the priest.

  And they left us.

  “You are very young, Mistress,” he said. “But I believe you are aware of the gravity of this step you are taking.”

  “Oh, yes,” I said.

  “Marriage is a very serious undertaking.”