by T T Thomas
Chapter 51
A Year Later
In retrospect, I realized it hadn’t happened all at once. Lena came to live with me, we rented out the townhouse and everything seemed to hum along for nearly a year.
Annabel and Sophia moved into a habitable cottage on the Blissdon Park estate until the completion of indoor plumbing, central heat and electricity.
We received regular letters detailing the latest interior design enhancements. Even though I could sense Annabel’s excitement at seeing a neglected and abandoned once grand manor house turn into a gorgeous, modernized home, I detected an uncharacteristic pensiveness, too. She said nothing specific about it, merely a particular phrase or word here and there.
I didn’t need her to confirm her melancholia, for it reflected my own. I, too, made no mention of it. To anyone. And until that day in September last month when we took the brief walk along the riverbank near Blissdon Park, neither of us fully comprehended that love denied indefinitely is love bewitched continuously.
Sabrina Blissdon Journal, October 1907
A Month Earlier…September 1907
In the early summer, Lena began receiving letters from her old friend, Sister Jean, whom Sabrina had not met. While she shared some of Jean’s newsy epistles with Sabrina, Lena wrote back to Jean in private. Sabrina barely registered that the two were corresponding…and yet, she did.
One sunny, warm day in early September, Lena was in the garden, and Sabrina dozed, stretched out on a chaise, half in the sun, half in the shade. Cath hurried through the yard. “Got a telegram!” she called out, waving a yellow envelope.
Sabrina sat up and tore open the missive. She turned to Lena who was watching her. “Annabel’s ill, she needs my help.”
Lena put down her digging prongs and removed her garden gloves. “Does she say what?”
“Health…no not specifically. We had better go to Cornwall. Today.”
Lena nodded and the three of them went into the house through the kitchen. “I’ll pack a nice lunch and a thermos of tea,” Cath said. “Will you be driving?”
Sabrina and Lena looked at one another. “Let’s do take the car,” Lena said. “We may need to get around while we’re in Cornwall.”
Sabrina agreed. “Blissdon Park is out in the country. I wonder she didn’t telephone. Telegrams can be so alarming…”
“She might not have felt up to a phone call, dear. Maybe she had the housekeeper send the telegram.”
Sabrina nodded. “Well, I’ll go call. The housekeeper will tell me.”
She telephoned Blissdon Park, but an unfamiliar voice answered. It was the gardener’s son. He said the housekeeper was busy with Annabel. Sabrina knew better than to ask a ten-year-old for details. She told him to say she would arrive later that night.
While Sabrina left a note of instructions for her studio staff, Lena got them packed up into two suitcases. Within an hour, they were ready to depart. Walters brought the car around.
When the company first delivered the Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost eight months earlier, it offered customers driving lessons; Sabrina insisted that she, Lena, Walters and Cath learn to drive it. They were all reasonably capable drivers with Lena, perhaps, being the least confident.
The long day’s excursion from London was tiring, but Sabrina drove the entire way, with several rest stops. They pulled into Blissdon Park at sunset. All the lights in the house were on and someone else had parked a car in the circular flagstone drive.
A Dr. Beech met them in the parlor. “I’m not finding anything organically wrong with her,” he said. “But her blood pressure is on the low end, she has no appetite, and she suffers from near continual headache.”
He recommended total bed rest for no less than a week, maybe longer. He promised to call in the following week for a progress report.
Sabrina and Lena had a large suite on the second floor toward the rear of the mansion overlooking the back gardens. Annabel’s quarters were opposite, in the front of the house, and Sophia’s domain, the Nursery, was a few steps down the hall from Annabel’s rooms.
“You go see Annabel,” Lena suggested. “I’ll get us sorted out here and meet you in the dining room for a light supper in, say, an hour?”
“Perfect,” Sabrina said. She kissed Lena then headed down the long hallway to the opposite side of the house.
She knocked lightly on Annabel’s bedroom door, but there was no response. Gingerly, she opened it, and as her vision adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw Annabel sitting up in the bed. Her cheeks were splotchy, as though with fever, or excitement, the rest of her face a pale accentuation of the purple dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her ivory-hued silk dressing gown disappeared under the single, white, crisp sheet that covered her lower legs.
“Oh, sweetheart, are you terribly ill?” Sabrina moved quickly toward her and sat on the side of the bed facing Annabel.
Annabel smiled and reached for her hands. “Not terribly, I don’t think, but I had to see you.”
She and Sabrina gazed at one another, a lifetime of love and longing silently filling the surrounding room. Finally Sabrina spoke. “How long has it been this way for you?”
Lowering her eyelids and releasing Sabrina’s hands, Annabel shook her head. “I daren’t tell you.” After hesitating, she looked up. “Since the beginning,” she whispered.
Sabrina inhaled deeply. “So. You’ve led me here under false pretenses.” She smiled at Annabel. “I’ve brought Lena you know.”
“Yes…I saw you drive up. Well, I heard you first. That’s a magnificent automobile.”
“And if you ‘recover’ soon, I’ll take you for a nice ride in it.”
“I feel better already.” They sat in silence, each with her thoughts on what this rendezvous might mean. Sabrina reached out and took her hand but said nothing. She rubbed her thumb back and forth over the top of Annabel’s cold skin until it warmed. A shadow crossed Sabrina’s face as she turned her head. Her unfocused gaze fell on the shafts of moonlight that beamed shimmering and silver through a nearby window.
Annabel whispered, “Do I no longer move you?”
Sabrina turned to her. “You must know that is not so. Not in my heart, my soul, my body. I missed you the moment of the day you left to come here, and for many years before that, but I thought…until I couldn’t think anymore.”
“I understand,” Annabel said. “Leaving seemed the right decision for you from my perspective, too. But I knew it was not right for me. I couldn’t say anything. Felicity had died, you and Lena were together, and you seemed…I couldn’t speak of it.”
“You hid it well.”
“Yes. Though it gutted me to think of…” The catch in her voice revealed a struggle.
“Don’t.”
Annabel removed her hand from Sabrina. “It was wrong of me to do this, to send you the telegram. I’ve held it in as long as I could. And Sophia has been fretting for weeks. Probably teething, but I think she misses Cath. That finished me. I took to my bed and couldn’t get up again. I can’t explain it more than that.”
Sabrina smiled. “Where is the little angel?”
“Asleep, I hope. She’s two now, you know.”
“Two years old, already.” Sabrina shook her head in disbelief. “You look wonderful, despite your ‘affliction.’”
“Thank you, but I’m weary. Again. As before. Except, thanks to you, I have every material thing I could want. Everything save the one I want most…you.”
Sabrina lowered her head, her chin almost to her chest. When she looked up, her heart wanted to succumb to exhaustion and defeat, but she rallied. “I insist that Jeremy should examine you, all the same. I’ll call him later to come mid-day. Will you agree?”
“Of course, darling, but he won’t find anything wrong with me unless he’s a mind-reader.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Sabrina said. “You rest…we’ll pursue this tomorrow.”
She leaned over and kissed Annabel on the cheek.
She remained longer than she should have alongside Annabel’s face until their lips, barely touching, transmitted their mutual love. The kiss was slow, almost painful, but they did not separate. Annabel reached up to hold Sabrina’s face, pulled back, then kissed her again with undisguised longing.
Chapter 52
Later, Sabrina met Lena in the dining room. Candles and fresh flowers dressed the table, and Lena sat at one end smiling beatifically when she saw Sabrina approach.
Sabrina raised her wineglass in a silent toast. Lena’s smile turned enigmatic and though Sabrina noticed, she gave it no special meaning. “Annabel seems…generally unwell. As Doctor Beech thought, nothing specific. Looked…pale. I’ve called Jeremy,” she said. “Let’s be sure.”
Lena listened. “Maybe she frightened herself, darling.”
Sabrina stared at her plate. “Maybe so.”
Dinner was quiet. They talked about how wonderful the house was looking, the beautiful welcoming palette of the front gardens, and the overall look and feel of a much-loved home. Sabrina looked off to a distant point on the far wall. “We must ride out to the pastures, see how the barn is coming along. All the tenants use it, and the cooperative they’ve formed helps them afford the tenancy fee they pay to Blissdon Park. It’s a strong system.”
Lena listened politely as Sabrina talked about the various aspects of the estate improving lives among the tenant farmers. “It’s what Blissdon Park was designed to be—a working farm. When I come here, I imagine my parents as young people, falling in love, with the land and one another.”
“It’s a beautiful picture,” Lena said.
After dinner, they returned to their suite, lit a fire against the evening chill and poured a couple brandies. Lena sat on the love seat, and Sabrina chose a nearby upholstered chair. They sat in companionable silence watching the sparks jump behind the hearth screen and listening to the wood crackling. Sabrina picked up a book of poetry from the end table, thumbed through it quickly, then put it back.
Lena spoke. “Are you tired? After that long drive?”
Sabrina frowned. Was Lena asking if she were too tired for intimacy? She made a quick decision. “I am a bit. You?”
Lena shrugged. “I think so. Mind if I go ahead into bed? Two swallows of this brandy and my eyelids are getting heavy. Do you want to sit awhile?”
Sabrina nodded, leaned forward to receive Lena’s kiss, then sank back into the plush upholstery. Relieved to have time alone, she sipped her brandy and finally heard Lena crawl into bed.
Sabrina wanted to think, but she dreaded doing so. She supposed she should have guessed. They had met up on a single occasion in the past two years when Annabel came to London. But Lena was with them then, and nothing would have led Sabrina to guess the contents of Annabel’s heart. Phone calls were difficult, full of static and unreliable connections. They kept in touch by letter, and Sabrina always found herself disappointed if more than a week went by without some word from Annabel. Should that have been a clue? Not necessarily…but maybe.
Soon she heard Lena’s soft snoring sounds. She poured more brandy. Her life these days was…content. Familiar. Loving.
She also thought of how Annabel looked in her bed that evening. Pale cheeks, bright eyes, sensuous mouth. But pale, too pale. She didn’t think Annabel was seriously ill, but she’d feel better hearing that from Jeremy.
She sighed. Here she was, again, caught between two women she loved. She loved them differently, but she knew she loved one of them at a depth she couldn’t ignore. Still, she absolutely must not hurt Lena again. She reminded herself of Lena’s deep hurt at the discovery of Sabrina’s affair with Felicity.
No matter what, she couldn’t hurt Lena a second time. The thought of doing so made her tremble and feel sick. She pulled the afghan up around her. The days were summer warm, but the nights in this area were chilly. The fire felt good.
She examined her feelings as she might gauge a room’s temperature. Her love for Annabel was practically primal, and they were fated and mated in a visceral way Sabrina could not deny. In all these years, it had not lessened.
Whereas she was fond of Lena, affectionate, even playful, and intuitive to her desires, she was almost feline with Annabel…possessive, territorial, protective and instinctive.
Lena and she shared a reassuring stability of purpose, with sufficient nourishment of the body and an inclination to appease the senses into a manageable scenario of reliable harmony.
Sabrina’s connection with Annabel was more elemental, more emotional, more eager, more appetite and hunger, more starkly craving in its consummation, more raptly sated, more intimate, more spiritually sanctified.
With Annabel, there was no filter, no restraints, no barriers; theirs was an authentic melding of essences in pursuit of their minds’ imperatives, their hearts’ desires, their spirits’ wishes, their souls’ requests.
Sabrina finished her brandy and stared at the fire, which had burned down to hot coals. The notion of Jeremy coming did not relieve Sabrina’s underlying fears. At best, it bought more time for her to figure out what to do.
She closed her eyes. Why was Annabel so infuriatingly seductive and perpetually appealing to her? She fell asleep sitting up before she realized she had spent the last quarter hour answering her own questions.
Contrary to Sabrina’s expectations, Jeremy’s arrival changed the entire tenor of the atmosphere. He arrived in good spirits bringing superb wine and excellent news.
After examining the patient, he reported there was nothing wrong with Annabel that a nice ride in the countryside wouldn’t cure. He speculated she might have mild anemia, which proper nourishment and fresh air would improve. “She’s not been eating well, she admitted that,” he said.
Lena joined in the laughter between the two friends who hadn’t seen one another for over a month. She watched how Jeremy drew Sabrina out of her seriousness and into a lighter frame of mind. Annabel seemed to have that same effect on Sabrina. Lena studied her lover and shivered internally to wonder how the news of the next couple days would go.
Lena knew Jeremy and Sabrina would stay up late enjoying one another’s company, so she graciously delivered her goodnights and urged them to enjoy themselves. She gave Jeremy an extra warm hug.
Sabrina watched as Lena left them. “She’s being so…I don’t know, extraordinarily accommodating. It’s odd she hasn’t seen Annabel yet though.” Then, “How long has Annabel not been eating right?”
“Two months according to her, four months according to the housekeeper.”
She looked at Jeremy. “You must have suspected something to ask the housekeeper the same question.”
“Indeed,” he said as he nodded but didn’t elaborate. He poured more wine. “What do you mean ‘accommodating’?—Lena always seems gracious. And she probably knows Annabel isn’t up to visiting yet.”
Sabrina murmured her agreement. “Tomorrow, Lena’s going into Penzance to see an old friend of hers.”
Jeremy tilted his head with surprise and a question. “And who might that be?”
Sabrina shrugged. “A nun she knows. Sister Jean something. She ran into her when you two were investigating the whole Markham and Glyver debacle.”
“I remember a mention of the woman. How is she getting there? To Penzance? Surprised she didn’t mention being gone tomorrow.”
“Apparently the convent is sending a driver for her. Her friend is the Mother Superior. She’ll leave early she said, and we’re not to get up that early on her account.”
Jeremy nodded. “Maybe we should take Annabel out for some fresh air tomorrow. It’s warm enough, pack a lunch, take a few short walks.” He stretched his long legs and raised his arms over his head. “I may sleep late in the morning. Hellish week at the hospital. They transferred a dozen amputees from Aldershot. They’ve been back six years from that Boer conflict but need more surgeries.”
Sabrina rose slowly from the comfort of her chair. “Goodnight then, sweet frien
d. Sleep well, and we’ll seek out an adventure tomorrow.” She gave Jeremy a hug and went upstairs to join Lena, who was sound asleep.
Sabrina closed her eyes. She was desperate for answers.
She fell asleep thinking how impossible that seemed.
Lena was gone by the time Sabrina awakened. She looked around for a note but found none. She shrugged—Lena always left a small note for Sabrina when she departed their house in London, but maybe the new surroundings…
Chapter 53
On a walking and driving tour of the villages on the banks of the River Cober, Annabel and I opted for an easy stroll while Jeremy was off hiking a nearby hill. At a point, she stopped and nudged me into a dense copse of bushes and up against a well-hidden, smooth-barked tree. In the moment it took to endow the promise of increasingly impassioned kisses, we intoxicated one another with such fervor we nearly lost our balance. I placed my hand at the small of her back to steady us, and in the process I pulled her closer.
That might have been a joyous mistake. I had not experienced such instant Paradise since our time together so many years ago.
We heard indistinct noises approaching. We didn’t have enough time to extinguish the fire in our kiss, our bodies or our hearts—so we tried in vain to look innocent or, failing that, presentable.
It was Jeremy whistling, calling our names and generally making a hell of a racket knocking his walking stick upon the rocks.
We separated, stood apart, smoothed our clothing, calmed our heartbeats, and cooled our overheated conditions before exiting the secret thicket. I felt as though the House of Bliss either reveled in the flames of its own destruction or basked in the warmth of its salvation. How could I know which it was?
Sabrina Blissdon, New Journal
Sabrina had never seen Annabel look as healthy. Her cheeks were rosy, flushed with the warm air of summer. Her stamina showed improvement as the day continued, and the happiness in her heart shined brilliantly in her eyes. They drove all over the countryside, stopping in woodlands and small villages. Their picnic on the banks of the River Cober was idyllic. Jeremy went off hiking for an hour after lunch, and the two women relaxed on a blanket spread in the shade.