“Are you in love?” she suddenly wanted to know.
“What makes you believe so?” Henry asked, surprised yet again at the fact that he was obviously so easy to see through.
His mother just gave him a warm smile.
“My dear boy,” she said, “I have never seen your eyes sparkle like this before. Donʼt tell me it is because you are so fascinated by Lady Porridgeʼs crockery collection...”
She had never had a good memory for names.
“It is not, of course...”
Henry felt his face getting slightly hot.
“Is she beautiful?” his mother asked, a knowing smile playing over her lips.
Henry looked at his mother for a moment, lost in thoughts.
“She is all Iʼve ever wanted...” he whispered.
“You are lucky, my son. Something like true love hardly ever happens to people. Some never find it. Go and make her yours if she loves you, too.”
If she loves you, too…
These words were echoing in Henryʼs head for the rest of the day. It was the most important part which needed to be clarified if he wanted to continue his mission to save Sarah.
* * *
At about two oʼclock Oscar was—against Henryʼs boldest hopes—back to a state that one could call presentable. He had shaved, washed his hair, and thrown himself into his new suit. Nothing about him left any clue whatsoever about his second nature as a little dandy and a ladiesʼ man. After having let his hair down for a couple of hours, he seemed to be ready for heading back to his normal life as a decent and honorable physician in Oxford.
The train ride from London to Oxford seemed to take forever; much longer than the journey from Oxford to London the day before. Henry put it down to his eager anticipation to get back. In his restlessness, he had even begun to bite his fingernails. In the meantime, Oscar was happily dozing and smoking cigars alternately. There were still some slight shadows under his eyes, but Henry guessed that by the time they arrived in Oxford, he would have got enough sleep to look his best the moment they would step out of the train.
It was half past five in the afternoon when the train came to a halt at Oxford Station. Angus was already waiting for them.
“Do you know when the others will be back?” Oscar asked him, referring to the Partridges.
“They are already back. Arrived at two oʼclock,” the coach driver grumbled.
“Two oʼclock? Thatʼs quite early. Why is that?” Henry asked in wonder.
“Sent me a telegram.” Angus opened the door of the coach and let them get inside. “Wanted me to pick them up earlier. Had the hell of a holiday with the young Miss ruining it all for them... From what I heard, she had one fit after the other and decided not to leave her bed anymore. There was no point in staying any longer.”
“Oh, what a shame...!” Henry tried his best to sound truly concerned and upset by the fact that the Partridges had their holidays spoiled. Deep inside, though, the news filled him with malicious joy—and his heart was on the verge of bursting with excitement because of seeing Sarah soon. At the same time, he was filled with worry about what state she might be in.
When they finally arrived at the mansion, Henry jumped out of the coach and already wanted to head for the entrance door, but Oscar stopped him.
“Henry, my friend, let me have a quick word with you before we go inside,” the doctor said to him in a muted voice and quickly pulled him out of the coach driverʼs earshot.
“You know that I have told you more on this trip than I should have,” he mumbled.
“And you know more about my feelings for Sarah than anyone else in there,” Henry answered, nodding his head towards the mansion.
“Well, you can trust on my discretion,” Oscar said and added with a frown, “Can I trust on yours?”
“Of course,” Henry answered firmly.
A sly smile on his lips, Oscar gave Henry a hug, patting his shoulder like a friend he had known for ages. However, when he let go of Henry, his face quickly became serious again.
“Henry, you know by now that I only want the best for Sarah,” he whispered so quietly that even Henry could hardly understand him. “I will not speak it out loud what my true opinion about this planned marriage with Damian is, as I suppose that you already know whom I would rather see to be Sarahʼs husband: Someone who really loves and cherishes her and who worries about her. I can clearly see that you fulfill all these criteria.”
Oscar momentarily turned his head towards the mansion to check if really nobody could hear him as he was speaking.
“Sarah is like a daughter to me,” he went on, “and more than anyone else I care for her well-being. Therefore, I urge you to get her out of this damn house and save her from her fate.”
Henry, who had been silent witness to Oscarʼs rather frank talking, cast his friend a wondrous glance.
“I donʼt even know if she wants me,” he said.
“I am sure she does.”
Henry sighed, wondering how Oscar could be so sure when he himself wasnʼt sure at all. He guessed that all of Oscarʼs certainty was merely wishful thinking.
Becoming aware of Henryʼs emotional turmoil, Oscar put his hands on Henryʼs shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly.
“Henry, I am looking after my niece whenever I can in order to protect her from even more misery than she is already in. I do not want her to end up suffering like her mother. Checking up on Priscillaʼs headaches is always a good occasion to see if they are treating Sarah right, and God knows I have tried my best to intervene when things got out of hand and tried to throw in a good word for the girl. But I can not be around all the time, Henry. And once she is married to this fool, no one she cherishes will be around her anymore. And that marriage will undoubtedly break her. What should I possibly do? Abduct her? And if so, where should I bring her? My problem is that Priscilla is still my sister, despite her strange attitudes. She needs me, too. I have fallen between two stools. But as you have no bond to our family, you are, unlike me, in an excellent position right now to look after Sarah and save her. I am so glad that there is finally someone decent whom she likes and who likes her. This is a match made in heaven! And if you are truly serious about it, I will do everything to help you.”
“How should I be able to save her, Oscar? What means could I possibly have? Compared to Damian with his utter ego and wealth, my chances are zero,” Henry muttered.
“Life is not always just about ego and wealth, Henry. You have more to offer than you might think. I can see that you are passionate, determined, and sincere. I suppose that is all it takes.”
“But I have no plan at all...”
“I am sure you will have one soon.”
“Having a plan does not mean that I can pull it through.” Henry furrowed his brow. He found that this conversation was taking highly unexpected turns and that Oscarʼs hopes were a little high. After all, Henry had spent the past two days desperately finding a way to conquer Sarah, and now Oscar came and put even more pressure on him by wanting the same and by even somehow expecting it of him.
“Once you have a plan, Henry, I will be there,” Oscar said, an encouraging tone to his voice. “Trust me. You can count on me whenever you need me.”
Henry cast Oscar a doubtful look. Then he followed his friend up the stairs towards the entrance door and went inside.
* * *
Judging by the foul mood prevailing in the house, Henry guessed that the Partridgesʼ nerves were rather strained. Their trip to Bournemouth had obviously been no delight for all parties involved. Even Lord Partridge openly showed his annoyance by pulling an extremely grumpy face instead of pretending to be in control of everything, as it was his usual manner. As for Lady Partridge, she lay on the sofa in the library, an ice pack on her forehead and a small tube of pills on the table next to her. And Damian Cox had gone for a walk, in an attempt to vent some of his anger, as Henry assumed.
Sarah, however, was nowhere to be seen, and Henry
wondered if she was alright.
After having rested for an hour and after having refreshed and changed clothes, Henry went downstairs to the dining room and sat down at the table. To his relief, Oscar was still there to join the Partridges for dinner. To his disappointment, however, Damian was still there as well. Henry had hoped that he would have departed by now. But as he could hear from the general talking, Damian would leave no sooner than in the early morning hours of the following day.
As usual, Sarah took her liberty of coming too late. Then, when she finally entered the dining room, Henry immediately knew why he had been so fidgety and anxious to see her for the past two days. He found that she looked astoundingly beautiful, and there was something which she radiated, something spectacular of which he didnʼt know if it was only him noticing it, or if it was something that could be perceived by the others, too.
Right now, however, nobody except for himself seemed to be really receptive of her impressive appearance. He guessed that everyone still stood under the influence of the weekend which had not turned out the way they all had hoped. Even Damian still seemed consternated but decided not to let it show. During dinner, he and Lord Partridge were animatedly discussing political issues or chatted about the small military unit which Damian was already supervising at his young age.
“Sarah, you are only sitting here at this table because Damian is our guest. Under different circumstances, you would be sent to your room. I hope you are aware of this,” Lord Partridge remarked frostily.
From Sarahʼs looks, Henry could gather that she would not have minded at all to be in her room instead of sitting next to Damian. She did, however, not add to the general ill humor by doing anything which would have attracted negative attention. She looked far too exhausted to riot. Henry once tried to smile at her, but she quickly turned her face away. He realized that, of course, it had been foolish of him to believe that she would dare to return his glances, here at this table, surrounded by so many observant eyes. So he carefully avoided any further eye contact and tried to content himself with the fact that at least she was back and that he was breathing the same air as she was. What also comforted him was that he would be with her again on the next day for lessons. He felt his heart beginning to beat excitedly at the thought of it.
Later after dinner, Henry saw Oscar walking up to Sarahʼs room. The girl had left before the dessert had been served, claiming she was feeling sick. Henry assumed that Oscar wanted to say goodbye to her, as he would soon be heading back to his place in Oxford town.
When Roderick and Emily began to remove the dishes from the table, Henry took his glass of wine and, with a little sigh, strolled into the library. He felt in need of a moment to himself.
Looking out of the window, he spotted the coach which was waiting for Oscar. He regretted to see his friend leaving. Henry knew that without him as an ally of some sorts, the general downbeat mood within the house would soon be taking hold of him.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him as someone entered the room. Thinking that it was Oscar who had come to say goodbye to him too, Henry quickly whirled around and saw to his horror that it was not Oscar at all. It was Damian, and he didnʼt look amused.
Good Lord, thatʼs just what I need… Henry thought glumly.
“Oh, you are here,” Damian exclaimed, appearing surprised at Henryʼs sight, but Henry couldnʼt get rid of the notion that Damian only pretended to be surprised and that in reality he had followed Henry secretly to the library with the purpose of meeting him there. Apart from that, it annoyed Henry how Damian had stressed the word ʻyou.ʼ There had been something disparaging about it.
“Yes, Damian, it is me,” Henry replied casually. He failed in his attempt to sound jovial. “If you wish to have a quiet moment in here in order to read something, please do not mind me. I was about to leave anyway. It was a long day...”
Henry quickly headed towards the door, eager to get out of the room where the atmosphere had suddenly become quite tense. To his surprise, though, Damian entirely ignored his remark, closed the door by giving it a hard push and, by doing so, blocked Henryʼs way. Feeling slightly uneasy, Henry just stood motionless, expectant of what would happen next.
Damian strolled over to the shelves, throwing fleeting glances at the numerous books they held. He took out one of the books and flicked through the pages without actually looking at their content.
“I hear you are getting along well with Sarah,” he said, a wary tone to his voice.
“Well, I am afraid I have to if I am supposed to teach her something,” Henry answered. “Still, I am encountering certain difficulties, of course.”
“Of course, of course...” Damian mumbled. He tilted his head as he was checking out the titles of the other books.
“Do you like her?” he asked.
A shrill warning voice in Henryʼs head told him to choose his words carefully.
“I suppose if I hated her, I would be unable to spend so many hours with her stuck in a tiny room. And she can in fact be very pleasant to deal with,” Henry answered diplomatically.
Suddenly, Damian Cox turned around and glared at Henry, and in his eyes Henry could see all the animosity that Damian felt for him.
“Oh yes, I recall you saying that she never really gets a chance to show how nice she is,” Damian said, sounding slightly sarcastic. “I must say, however, I do not quite understand this theory. I mean, for the past two days the whole family gave Sarah an awful lot of chances to show her alleged ʻnicety,ʼ but all she did was being strangely absent-minded and exceptionally cold towards us and especially me. And all the while I was wondering why that is…”
Damian smirked at Henry, obviously pretending not to be too affected by it all, as if Sarah was just a pubescent girl not to be taken too seriously. But his clenched jaw made it clear to Henry that he was actually very much affected by it and that he was in fact beyond himself with rage.
Damian strode over to Henry, who had taken up a somewhat safe position next to the fireplace, ready to grab one of the fire irons and use them against Damian, just in case things got out of hand. Damian appeared bad-tempered enough to start up a little fight. And as he didnʼt seem to be just angry in general but angry about Henry in particular, the latter wondered if Sarah really had feelings for him after all. Had that been the reason for her absent-mindedness? Had she even mentioned Henryʼs name in Damianʼs presence? With that certain twinkle in her eyes that Oscar had talked about?
“Maybe the reason for her being so complicated at times is that she is too young for a marriage,” Henry explained calmly. “You see, she is only eighteen and—”
Damian cut him off.
“She is almost nineteen—and in full transition of becoming a grown-up woman.”
“Well, she is without a doubt physically mature, but she is obviously entirely immature in every other respect.” Henry hoped that his words, which did not reflect his own opinion at all, would soothe Damian, or would even have the effect of making him lose interest in Sarah although Henry found that the latter was quite unlikely.
Damian was now standing right in front of Henry, barely leaving any safety distance between them. Even the fire irons would not have been of much use to Henry anymore, as Damian simply kicked them aside with his foot. Fireplace poker, slice bar, rake, and shovel fell onto the ground with a loud clank. Damian didnʼt care about it.
“So what you are implying is—and please do correct me if I am wrong—that you know Sarah better than I do after having spent only—how long was it again—four days with her?”
Henry got aware of the tension growing between them.
“I did not intend to imply anything,” Henry answered politely, trying not to let Damian provoke him. “I am only observing and conjecturing.”
Damian placed his right hand on the mantelpiece, blocking Henryʼs way altogether. Being face to face with Damian now, Henry could almost smell his breath.
“If you honestly do not have any inten
tions, Mr. Abbott,” Damian hissed, overstressing Henryʼs name, “then would you please be so kind as to keep your assumptions to yourself and stop making eyes at Sarah? Because if you keep doing so, I will either break your neck or shoot you in the head. And I am kind enough to leave the choice entirely up to you regarding which way you rather want to die.”
A malicious smile slowly spread across Damianʼs face, leaving no doubt that he was dead serious about his threat.
Henryʼs blood was pulsating in his veins. He wanted to hurl an insult at Damian, wanted to equally threaten him, or even hit him in the face. But instead, he tried to cool his temper. The less he showed that he was affected by Damianʼs words, the less Damian would suggest that his assumptions about Henry being in any way interested in Sarah were correct.
“Donʼt you have anything to say?” Damian asked. The smile had disappeared from his face and had given way to a menacing stare.
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