But Mrs Allyson had not been the only one to spread gossip. Apparently the earlier rumours had been rekindled by tales spread by a Mrs Maddock. Sarah didn’t know what relation she was to anyone at Mellington Hall, but she seemed to be in possession of a lot of information, most of it out of context or twisted to make the situation look vastly worse than it really was.
“Bold as brass!”
Sarah couldn’t fail to hear the discussion that was going on in the little shop where she was buying some bits and pieces.
“Indeed, she sleeps with him in his room, if you don’t mind!” the round-faced Mrs Maddock said, not even trying to lower her voice.
“The hussy!” This from one of the women who formed part of the huddle around the bearer of outrageous tidings.
“My mistress tells me that Lord Mellington is quite open about his affair. Quite proud of the fact.”
“And no talk of marriage?”
“Lord, no! He would not marry the likes of her. Who is she, after all? And indeed, no one else will want her either.”
“She has a nerve, to be sure!” another woman added. “Walking in here as if nothing was amiss, indeed, and knowing the Reverend has denounced her!”
In the end, Sarah left the things she had wanted to purchase on the counter and walked out. It wasn’t just the malicious gossip that was being bandied about so loudly and openly, but also the fact that she could not get the shopkeeper to even so much as look at her. She felt humiliated, rejected and very angry.
And to add insult to injury, as she walked away from the village, she came across her mother and father, riding into town in their small horse-drawn cart. At first, she was filled with relief at the sight of her mother, and wanted only to run to her embrace, and have her reassure her that everything would be all right. But as they approached, she knew that they saw her. Her mother smiled and was about to wave, but her father grabbed her hand, and Sarah heard him speak.
“No, Claire! Just ignore her!”
With this, they both turned away from her, and the cart passed on without her receiving any acknowledgement whatsoever.
The pain of rejection was like a knife that cut her to the quick, and it was almost a physical pain that gripped her chest as she walked back to Mellington Hall, trying for all she was worth to hold herself together.
She succeeded only by sheer force of will until she reached the Hall. She walked around the back to the servants’ entrance, and was about to go inside when she saw Alan Mellington, dressed in riding gear, coming from the stables toward the house. It was like a spark to tinder, and she rushed toward him, her shame and anger boiling over in a display of almost hysterical crying. Without reason or control, she began to hit him with her fists, her emotions spilling out in words that made no sense, and were no more than emotional babbling.
Alan was momentarily stunned by the sudden assault, and it took a few moments for him to take possession of the situation, finally grabbing hold of her flailing wrists, and easily subduing her ineffective attack, eventually pulling her to himself and holding her close.
“Sarah, stop!” he said gently, holding her firmly. “Stop it now, love!” he said a second time as her outburst took a little while longer to work itself out.
Finally, Sarah slumped against him, completely spent, though Alan could still feel her shuddering. Holding her closely, he could feel not only his heart, but his body respond to her.
“What is it?” he whispered gently. “What’s upset you so?”
Sarah just shook her head against his chest.
“Did you go into the village?” he asked, realising that she was dressed for going out. “Who did you see?”
But at this question, Sarah was reminded of the pain of rejection from her parents, and she began to cry again.
Alan was unnerved by Sarah’s very obvious distress. He guessed that she had run into some village gossips. He’d seen and heard things himself, but didn’t give them a second thought. They had no power over him, and he knew the truth. He’d been to speak to the New Church minister, Mr Edwards, about the situation, and been reassured that there was little he could do, other than live righteously, and try to keep from the appearance of wrongdoing. That was the religious way of saying, do what you know is right, and don’t put yourself in a position that gives anyone reason to believe you’re doing wrong.
Of course that was a little hard having had witnesses to apparent compromise not once, but twice, and though the situation was innocent, people would draw their own conclusions. He had determined to put it from his mind.
However, it appeared that Sarah, who had also been implicated in these self-same situations, did not feel the same security. She had neither his position nor money.
“I am truly sorry, Sarah. It is very cruel, especially when you have done so much for me.”
For a moment, she accepted the comfort of his embrace, and fleetingly imagined that she felt love as well.
“I wish I could do something to put it right,” he whispered against her hair.
Sarah stiffened at this, and suddenly pulled back. They both knew there was something he could do, but he had already made it clear that that particular solution was not an option where he was concerned. It had made her so angry. She was tempted to start hitting him again, but it was no use, so she just turned away from him, and went to the back door to go inside.
“Why are you crying?” Lucinda asked, when she saw Sarah come in the door.
“It’s nothing,” Sarah replied, hastily wiping her eyes. “I shall change and come to help serve dinner shortly.”
But Lucinda was not so easily put off. She went to the back door and looked out. She saw Sir Alan standing there staring at the door, his face the picture of concern.
“It’s disgraceful, what goes on between him and that little tart,” Cook said, looking out over Lucinda’s shoulder. “If I had my way, I’d send her packing, yes indeed!”
“Do you think the master is serious about her?” Lucinda asked.
“That is just what your mother said, was it not? Did she not say that Lady Lydbury heard it from his own mouth?”
“But he won’t marry her, will he?” Lucinda asked.
“He will if she can find a way to convince him, to be sure. It’s ones like her sort who can make a respectable man forget himself. She’s after his money, no mistake!”
arah was emotionally exhausted by the time she retired for the night. She had changed and returned to the kitchen in time to help serve the evening meal, but things were tense in the kitchen. The cook was making no effort to hide her disgust. She had heard plenty from the gossip circles, and added plenty of credence to the stories by reciting some bits of evidence from her own observations. Lucinda seemed to have been affected by the cook’s attitude, and was keeping out of Sarah’s way.
To make it worse, when Sarah was in the dining room, collecting dishes and clearing the sideboard, Alan spoke openly to her, asking if she felt better. Sarah didn’t know what to do. She answered as briefly as she possibly could, but Simon saw a chance to get a bit of his own back.
“There are more discreet ways to conduct an affair, Alan,” he had said sanctimoniously, knowing full well that it would upset both of them. She hurried from the room before she heard Alan’s reply.
Now, as she tried to get to sleep she went over and over in her mind what she could do to make the situation better. But she always reached the same conclusion; there was nothing she could do. No one who really meant anything to her had believed her. The gossip had continued to grow, and things were now being said that had nothing at all to do with what had actually happened. Nobody wanted to acknowledge that her time spent with Alan had anything at all to do with the fact that she had saved his life.
Alan was the only one who had the power to do anything about it, but he didn’t seem to have the motivation to really get to the bottom of the situation and do anything about setting the record straight. His apparent apathy infuriated her.
But just as she was about to drift off, she was alerted to the sound of someone opening her door and stealthily entering her small room. At first, she didn’t move, wondering if she was hearing things, straining her ears to confirm that she had indeed heard her door open. But she couldn’t discern whether someone was there or not. She was about to relax again, deciding that she must have been imagining things, when she was shocked by a large pillow being heavily pressed onto her head. She began to thrash about trying to get her head out from under the suffocating pillow, but quickly realised that somebody stronger than her was using all their weight to hold it firmly in place.
Someone’s trying to kill me! she thought. Lie still! she told herself. Let him think you’re dead.
So she lay still. But the weight on top of her head did not move. The fact that she was on her stomach meant that she was able to push her head up just a little with the arm that had been under her chin, and there was just a small pocket of air. But it wasn’t much, and the air was beginning to seem used. She wanted very much to thrash about again, desperate for fresh air, but realised that she needed to lie very still, and deceive her attacker into thinking that he had succeeded. Just when she thought that she couldn’t possibly lie in this airless trap any longer without making another desperate attempt for air, she felt the weight on top of her head lift. The pillow remained in place, but she was able to carefully lift the corner enough to let in a small amount of fresh air.
She still didn’t move, listening carefully to hear when the attacker would leave the room. It seemed an age before she felt the pillow being lifted from her head. She knew it was pitch dark in the room, so didn’t worry too much about the attacker seeing the slight movement of her body as she carefully breathed, but she lay absolutely still.
Eventually, she heard footsteps going across to the door, the latch lifted and the door opened. She hoped desperately that the attacker had left. Still she lay as if dead for at least another five minutes, just to be sure that he was gone.
Finally, she slowly turned over and with her heart still beating madly with fear, and, her eyes wide, trying desperately to see something in the pitch black, she peered about the room to make sure she was alone.
Carefully she got out of bed, tiptoed to her door, and opened it as quietly as she could. Peering out into the dark hall, she couldn’t see anything or anybody. Without stopping to think about anything at all, she began to feel her way through the dark. It was all she could do not to collapse; the shock of the attack was still so very much affecting her, but she resisted the urge to crumple into a hysterical heap. Apart from anything else, she still had no idea whether the assailant might not be lurking in the hallways, and she had commonsense enough to keep creeping through the darkness. Trying to keep her breathing even, and trying to walk on the tips of her toes, she strained her ears in the oppressive atmosphere, listening for any sign of another human being. Once or twice she thought she heard something, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from crying out in fear. But she managed, despite the great wave of fear that had swept over her. Finally, she knew she was at the foot of the stairwell, and she carefully took the back stairs wincing every time she heard one of the boards creak. With every step she imagined a strong arm snaking out of the darkness to take her by the throat. By the time she reached Sir Alan Mellington’s room, she could no longer hold back the force of terror that had been torturing her the whole way.
Alan had been unable to get to sleep. He had felt rather badly on account of Sarah’s upset earlier in the day, and even worse after he had enquired after her and his brother had taken the opportunity to deliver a provocative insult, which Alan knew Sarah had heard. The fact that he had then silenced Simon with a severe dressing down, making reference to Simon’s own actual indiscretions and his current lack of decency, made no difference, since Sarah had not remained in the dining room to hear Alan’s defence.
Alan was becoming more and more aware of how devastating gossip and slander could be. It still didn’t affect his personal life very much. He was rather ashamed to realise that he found what the common folk thought about him was of little or no consequence. His brother Simon was worse, as he actually did behave in a disgraceful manner. But their reputation amongst the poor villagers meant little to the brothers. For Sarah, however, it was a very different affair. Her life had become very difficult with her reputation shattered seemingly beyond repair. Her reputation was all she had, and the result of her acting the part of a Good Samaritan had left her destitute, without family or friends. He had begun at last to feel it was a serious situation, and that he was actually largely responsible for it.
He had thought that perhaps the village gossip might have died down by now, and that sooner or later she would have been able to return to her family and a normal life, but the longer she stayed under his protection the worse the slander became.
What was he going to do? His efforts to discuss the situation with the Reverend Mr Snead had come to nothing, and Alan began to realise just how powerful the village vicar was in shaping public opinion. Using God as his authority, the villagers seemed willing to accept any attitude he preached at them. It was as if their own common sense was inactive. Surely they must have known that the Montgomerys were decent people. Surely they could have stopped to listen to his account, at least, and realised that they had made an error of judgement. But Snead’s campaign of shame and retribution was supremely effective, as he had found out.
But understanding this unfortunate truth didn’t help Sarah’s situation at all, and it left Alan wondering what on earth he could do to make it right for her.
As she had pointed out, she couldn’t become his kept woman as her chances of making a decent marriage under such conditions would be impossible. And yet he didn’t think he could have her remain in the house. His attraction to her had become obvious to everyone, and he didn’t want to have to fight this growing passion for the rest of his life. But what else could he do with her?
He had reached this point in his musings when he heard the door to his room fly open and someone entered.
“Who’s there?” he asked, immediately alert to the possibility of another attempt on his life.
“Alan!” Sarah’s frantic voice came through the dark, and within seconds she had crossed the room and found him. She had abandoned all restraint and almost threw herself into his arms.
At first, he wanted to berate her. She was in her nightdress, on his bed, practically throwing herself at him, absolutely confirming every ugly thing that had been said about her. But before the words could come out of his mouth, he realised that she was shaking violently, and by her short gasping breaths he felt she was almost hysterical again.
“Sarah, calm yourself. It’s all right. Calm down.”
She shook her head. “No!” She could hardly get the word out as she fought for breath. “No, Alan! Someone just tried to kill me!”
“What?” Alan was instantly alarmed. “What do you mean? What are you saying?”
Sarah didn’t bother to repeat it. She just clung to him for dear life.
Feeling her shaking body against his, he decided he would have to take charge of the situation. He waited only a few moments before he spoke gently to her.
“I will be just a moment,” he said trying to reassure her. “I need to light the lamp.” He put her to one side, and crossed to the fireplace, where he stirred the embers with the bellows enough to light a taper, and brought it across to the lamp to light it. Once there was light, he could see that her eyes were as wide as saucers and
terrified, her face pale, and her whole body shaking.
“Tell me what happened,” he asked softly, drawing her close again. “Who tried to kill you?”
Sarah shook her head again. “I don’t know who it was. It was dark, and they put a pillow over my head. They tried to... suffocate me... ” She broke down again, crying.
He understood what had happened, but couldn’t understand why. He didn’t bother to say anything else, just held her and gently tried to soothe her. She was obviously in shock, and needed to be brought back from the verge of hysteria.
He should have called Mrs Mirren, or Lucinda, or Mrs Evans, but right at that moment, he honestly didn’t know if he could trust them, and besides, in this situation, he and Sarah were now completely compromised. He doubted any of them would take the time to factor in the attempt on her life as a good enough excuse for her to be in this current position. They had already made up their mind where she was concerned, and it was getting to the point where he was beginning to make up his mind that things had to change. Sarah had risked her reputation and saved his life on two occasions. It was now time for him to make some sacrifice himself and set about to saving her. It seemed that whoever was trying to kill him had changed their target. It was time for him to make a stand and protect her.
“You needn’t give me those self-righteous glances,” Alan said sharply to Rupert and Mrs Mirren outside his bedroom door. “I do not need to explain myself to you. I have given you an order, and I expect you will see to it immediately.”
He turned around and opened the door to his room again, expecting that his staff would go about what he’d asked them to do. He’d given Rupert a sealed envelope to take immediately to The Reverend Mr Edwards. He had told both of them that Miss Montgomery was in his room, that an attempt had been made on her life, and that they were to bring her things to his room, that she was now under his personal protection. The housekeeper had been given a second envelope that she was to have delivered to the constable. He had made some firm decisions during the night, and despite what anyone else thought, he was going to get both himself and Sarah out of harm’s way. He realised that both Rupert and the housekeeper could easily have seen Sarah sitting up in his bed. There wasn’t anything he could do about it. There was nothing now that would induce him to send her back downstairs to the servants’ quarters, to a place where someone might still be in wait to take her life.
Mellington Hall Page 11