by Gayle Buck
“Then what is to be done. Miss Hanson?” asked Sarah. “For I shall not return to the box just now and so I tell you!”
“Oh, do stop your wrangling! Just stop it!” exclaimed Margaret. “I can’t take any more.” She started to flee, then stopped. “Lord Eustace!”
At Margaret’s exclamation, Sarah and Miss Hanson both turned.
“My lord, what a pleasure to see you here,” said Sarah, extending her gloved hand to him. She had stepped forward to meet him, so that her sister would have a moment to gather herself together.
Lord Eustace took her hand and bowed. “Well met, Miss Sommers. I was just going to step into your box to pay my regards to Lady Alverley and all of you.”
“Margaret and I wished to take a few minutes of exercise before the play began again,” said Sarah. “But my grandmother remained in her seat. Will you walk back with us, my lord?”
“I wish I didn’t have to return!” murmured Margaret with a defiant glance.
Sarah was embarrassed. She hoped that Lord Eustace had not overheard her sister’s impassioned aside, but apparently he had.
“These performances can seem rather long at times,” said Lord Eustace, glancing at Margaret. He smiled down at Sarah. “You appear enchanting this evening, Miss Sommers.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Sarah, pleased and surprised. He had not ever ignored Margaret in order to compliment her.
Lord Eustace acknowledged Miss Hanson’s slight curtsy. At last he turned to address Margaret. “I see that you are also in beauty, Miss Margaret. May I offer my escort?”
Margaret smiled into his face. The distraught look in her eyes had disappeared. “Thank you, my lord. That is very kind of you.”
Lord Eustace and Margaret led the way back to the box. Margaret responded to his lordship’s light and friendly talk and by the time that they reached Lady Alverley’s box, she was laughing as gaily as she always had.
Sarah was glad to see that her sister had thrown off her odd distress. She was grateful, too, that Lord Eustace had been able to aid Margaret’s recovery of spirits. At the same time, however, she could not quite banish the wistful thought that she would like it very much if he would pay such assiduous attentions to her.
Sarah felt a touch on her elbow and she glanced around to meet Miss Hanson’s gaze. Miss Hanson nodded significantly at the couple who was going ahead of them into the box. “Perhaps we see a match forming up,” she murmured.
Sarah did not reply as she walked into the box.
* * *
Chapter 19
A week later, Sarah looked around the mingling company in the ballroom. She was seated in her chair on the edge of the dance floor and was momentarily by herself. It had been a wonderful evening. She had danced the waltz twice with Lord Eustace and only discretion had kept her from doing so again. She had remembered Miss Hanson’s early warning that a young lady must never dance three times with the same gentleman in an evening or she risked having it said that they were an engaged couple.
She was smiling as she fanned herself. Lord Eustace would never urge her to flout the conventions, of course, but it was nice to think it was only that which had stopped him from asking her for another set. At that moment, she was waiting for Lord Eustace’s return. He had offered to bring an ice to her after their last waltz.
Sarah suddenly caught sight of her sister. Margaret was being escorted from the dance floor by Mr. Matthews. She was laughing up at her admirer. Sarah was glad to see that Margaret was enjoying the ball, too. She had not paid much attention to Margaret that evening after satisfying herself that Margaret was in fair spirits.
Margaret had refused to confide anything more to her since their hurried exchange at the theater. Sarah felt that she had done as much as she could to help her sister by offering to listen. Short of browbeating Margaret, or threatening to bring Lady Alverley in on her, Sarah did not know what else she could do.
Sarah’s feeling of well-being was wiped out at the altering of expression on her sister’s face. Mr. Matthews had left Margaret, and Captain Jeffries had immediately walked up to her. He was saying something. Margaret’s expression had become tense.
Sarah watched as Margaret gave a quick shake of her head and made a movement as if to turn away. But the cavalry officer caught hold of her hand and held her by him. He spoke with intensity until Margaret reluctantly nodded.
Sarah left her chair and started making her way toward them. She had noticed that since the night when they had been to see Macbeth, Margaret had been avoiding Captain Jeffries. She had even denied herself to the cavalry officer whenever he had come to call and she had made excuses not to go riding with Mrs. Jeffries.
Sarah had guessed that Captain Jeffries was at the root of Margaret’s uncharacteristic unhappiness. She had tried to talk to Margaret about it, but had not gotten very far. “Margaret, are you angered with Captain Jeffries?” she had asked.
“No, of course not! What a very odd thing to say!” said Margaret, looking up from a copy of The Lady’s Magazine.
“Then why have you begun to avoid him?” Sarah had asked.
Margaret had gotten up hurriedly. “I don’t wish to discuss Captain Jeffries.”
Before her sister had reached the door, Sarah had in desperation asked, “Margaret, are you in love with him?”
Margaret did not turn around. She stood quite still with her hand on the doorknob. In a strangled voice, Margaret had said, “Captain Jeffries made an offer for me, which Grandmama has rejected. He will shortly be returning to duty. It is best that I do not see him.”
“Oh, my dear!” exclaimed Sarah, starting forward in compassion. But her sister’s next words stopped her.
“Mind your own business, Sarah!” exclaimed Margaret fiercely, and she had fled the sitting room.
As Sarah recalled the misery encompassed in that impassioned plea, she wanted only to protect Margaret from any further hurt. Margaret had chosen to distance herself from Captain Jeffries and Sarah honored her sister’s decision. She therefore made her way as quickly as she could to her sister’s side, in order to help Margaret detach herself from the cavalry officer’s now unwelcome attentions.
Just as Sarah came up, Margaret and Captain Jeffries started away in the opposite direction. They were headed straight for a doorway that led out of the ballroom into an anteroom.
Sarah hesitated, then followed. She did not like the feeling that she was spying on her sister, but she felt that she could not leave Margaret on her own. Her sister’s face had been white and as she and Captain Jeffries left the ballroom, she had cast an almost desperate glance over her shoulder which had stirred Sarah’s heart.
Sarah also left the ballroom and entered the anteroom, hesitating when she no longer saw her quarry. Then she heard voices from a half-open door set behind a supporting column. Sarah swiftly crossed the marbled floor to the doorway. There she stopped again, assailed by guilt and distaste for what she was doing.
Then Captain Jeffries’s voice rang out, almost ragged in intensity. “I must see you! I am going mad.”
“I’m sorry! I cannot!”
Suddenly the door was thrown open and Margaret rushed out. Blinded by tears, she did not see Sarah standing beside the door.
Sarah watched her go, then turned and entered the room. It proved to be a small salon, informally furnished and lit only by the fire in the grate. Sarah shut the door.
Captain Jeffries turned his head from contemplation of the fire. He was frowning heavily and there was an unfriendly light in his hooded gaze. Not by a flicker of his eyelids did his expression lighten when he recognized the lady who returned his regard. “Miss Sommers.”
“Forgive me.” Sarah gestured with her fan. “I could not help overhearing just a little.”
“Then you know that I am hopelessly in love with your sister,” said Captain Jeffries harshly.
“And Margaret?” inquired Sarah quietly, coming farther into the room.
He stared at h
er, before sighing heavily. “I believe that she loves me, also. But she will not see me. Nor will she allow me to proffer my suit again to Lady Alverley.”
“I had wondered what was bothering Margaret, and now I pity her with all of my heart. Margaret knows quite well that our grandmother will not hear of a match between you,” said Sarah. “She is torn in two, I think. And she is afraid.”
“Why am I not acceptable? I am as good as any man, and better than some. I possess a decent living and my birth is equal with hers,” said Captain Jeffries angrily. His frustration was evident in the hard line of his jaw. “Can you explain to me why Lady Alverley would reject an offer from me, Miss Sommers?”
“Yes, I can. May I sit down, Captain Jeffries?” Sarah calmly seated herself. She could see that her assertion had both startled him and captured his attention. “Do you know anything about our background, Captain Jeffries? About our parents?”
“No, I do not,” said Captain Jeffries with a narrowed look. “What has it to do with Margaret and myself?”
“It has everything to do with it,” said Sarah. “Our mother was Annabelle Alverley, her ladyship’s only daughter. She came out when she was seventeen and, from what I have heard, she took the town by storm. She was pretty and lively and could have had any gentleman in the land.”
“Like Margaret,” said Captain Jeffries, still frowning. His eyes were fixed exceedingly sharp and keen on her face.
“Much like Margaret,” agreed Sarah. She played with her fan for a moment. “Annabelle Alverley fell in love with a younger son of few prospects, my father, Sir Francis Sommers. Lady Alverley vehemently refused her consent for their betrothal and denied the house to my father. Her ladyship had ambitious dreams for her daughter, and a younger son of modest means had no place in those plans.”
“I begin to understand you. Miss Sommers,” said Captain Jeffries grimly. “Go on.”
Sarah looked up. Quite flatly, she said, “Annabelle Alverley and Sir Francis Sommers eloped. It was a blow from which our grandmother has never recovered. It haunts her to this day.”
“You are telling me that my suit is hopeless,” snapped Captain Jeffries, very white about the mouth.
“Lady Alverley is blinded by an old grief, Captain Jeffries. It would be difficult indeed to persuade her that your suit is in any way acceptable,” said Sarah with gentle regret.
“As Margaret’s guardian, Lady Alverley can deny Margaret permission to consider my suit and have me barred from approaching Margaret either in private or in public,” said Captain Jeffries in realization. He smashed his fist down on the mantel. “It is a hellish situation!”
“Lady Alverley is not Margaret’s guardian, Captain Jeffries.”
He turned swiftly, his gaze once more riveted to Sarah’s face. “What are you saying, Miss Sommers?”
“Only this, Captain Jeffries. Our father is still very much alive, and though he adjured us to follow Lady Alverley’s advice this Season, I don’t believe that he would wish either of us to do so to our ultimate unhappiness. Sir Francis is a forgetful father, which is perhaps why it does not often occur to either Margaret or myself to apply to him for advice. Perhaps in this instance it would be wise,” said Sarah. She had risen from the chair. Now she smiled up at the tall mustached gentleman who stood staring down at her. “Margaret can give you his direction, Captain Jeffries.”
The cavalry officer seized her hands. There was a blaze in his eyes. “You have given me hope, Miss Sommers. Thank you! I am eternally grateful.” He raised her hands to his lips.
At that instant the door opened and Lord Eustace entered. He stopped short at sight of the intimate gesture. “Pardon me for intruding. Miss Sommers,” he said in a neutral voice.
Sarah colored hotly and snatched her hands from Captain Jeffries’s grasp. “Lord Eustace! You have surprised me.”
“Obviously,” said Lord Eustace in a dry voice.
Captain Jeffries glanced swiftly from one to the other. A gleam of amusement lit his eyes. He smiled warmly at Sarah and in a low voice, he said, “I shall leave you now, Miss Sommers. You may imagine on what errand I go.” He went toward the door, nodded to Lord Eustace as he passed him, and exited.
Lord Eustace closed the door after the cavalry officer with a snap. Then he looked across at Sarah.
“It is not what you think, my lord,” said Sarah quickly. She read condemnation in his steady regard.
Lord Eustace walked forward. “And what is it that I think, Miss Sommers?”
“An assignation, a-a clandestine meeting,” said Sarah, stammering on the words. There was an expression in his eyes that she did not like.
Lord Eustace reached out and took hold of her hands. “How uncanny. You have read my thoughts precisely, Miss Sommers.”
“But you are wrong, very wrong!” exclaimed Sarah. “Captain Jeffries and I—”
“If it is stolen moments and kisses that you desire, Sarah, why not mine?”
Before Sarah could react or say a word, Lord Eustace had pulled her into his arms. He crushed her to him and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly.
Sarah’s senses swam. She did not know how long it was that he kissed her before he raised his head. She heard him murmur something, before he took her mouth again.
She clung to his lapel, swaying against him. She had dreamed for a very long time of this very moment. Time seemed to stand still.
When he forcibly set her aside, Sarah nearly stumbled. Her eyes wide and dazed, Sarah slowly raised her fingers to her lips.
Lord Eustace was breathing heavily. There was a tight, white look about his eyes and mouth. He said hoarsely, “Very satisfactory, Miss Sommers. I congratulate you on your natural talents.”
Sarah’s world reeled and crashed. She felt her heart break in two. “Dastard!” she breathed. Hands covering her face, she brushed past him and ran to the door, jerking it open.
Lord Eustace took a hasty step after her. Something snapped under his foot. He bent down and slowly straightened, the shattered ivory sticks of Sarah’s fan in his hand.
Sarah went at once in search of her grandmother. She petitioned Lady Alverley to be allowed to leave for the evening. “I have the beginning of the headache,” she said, not far from speaking the truth.
Lady Alverley frowned in irritation. “But I do not wish to bring an early end to my own enjoyment, Sarah.”
“I would not think of asking you to, ma’am. Perhaps Miss Hanson could chaperone me?” asked Sarah. She was desperate to be gone, afraid that Lord Eustace would again seek her out. She did not think that she could stand that. Her emotions were so near the surface that she felt as though she was going to burst into tears at any instant.
“Very well! Marie can have no objection, after all,” said Lady Alverley.
When Miss Hanson was informed that she was to cut her own evening short in order to escort Sarah home, she sighed regretfully. “A pity, for I have truly enjoyed myself. Lord Tottenham has been so friendly toward me this evening. I have not known where to look.”
Sarah did not care. All she wanted to do was to leave. As she and Miss Hanson said good night to their hostess, she caught sight of Lord Eustace. He was standing some distance away, regarding her with a peculiar expression. Sarah turned away swiftly and hurried out.
Sarah spent the minutes in the carriage going over and over in her head what had happened. She felt despair and anger and humiliation. She could not bear the thought of seeing Lord Eustace again, knowing that he held her in such contempt.
* * * *
Sarah spent a restless night. By morning, her feelings had not undergone any transformation. She thought if Lord Eustace called that day, she would deny herself to him. His lordship could very well make do visiting with her sister. Sarah did not want to see him. Every time she recalled how he had kissed her, and the words he had spoken, she felt mortified all over again.
But Lord Eustace did not call. Instead, he sent a billet along with a slender package. Sarah accepted t
he billet and package reluctantly from the butler. “Thank you, Herbert.” She waited until the butler had exited and she was alone before she read the note. It was a short apology, and inside the package she discovered a pretty fan, which was almost a duplicate of her own.
Sarah recalled that she had dropped her fan. It must have broken since Lord Eustace had not sent her the original. Sarah debated for some hours whether or not to accept Lord Eustace’s apology. There was more at stake than a mere broken fan, as surely his lordship must realize.
Sarah finally came to a realization of her own. She knew how much he had hurt her, but that did not necessarily mean that Lord Eustace was aware of it. She had hidden away her feelings for him, after all, by carefully cultivating a friendly manner toward him. She had never indicated that she was fonder of him than she was of any of her other acquaintances.
Sarah decided that she was being stupid. Her best course was to accept Lord Eustace’s apology in the spirit in which it had been offered. He had insulted her unbearably, which he had owned in his billet. It would be uncharitable to hold it against him when he had no inkling how much he had hurt her.
Sarah decided when she next saw Lord Eustace, she would treat his lordship just as she had always done. She chose to forget the cruel thing he had said. It was a difficult thing to do, but Sarah thought that if she was not to run scared like a rabbit for the rest of the Season it was necessary. Otherwise, she would not be able to meet Lord Eustace without forever being reminded of that unpleasant incident.
Sarah was mildly surprised that night when Margaret came into her bedroom to say good night. She and her sister had been on such wary terms of late that Margaret’s small olive branch brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. “I do love you, dear Margaret,” she whispered.
“Oh, Sarah! You are such a goose!” said Margaret, hugging her. “Now let Bordon put you to bed. You have looked perfectly hagged today.”
Sarah gave a watery laugh. “Have I? Then I shall be certain to get a good night’s rest so that I shall be fresh in the morning.”