“No, because I honestly donʼt know what you are talking about,” Henry replied calmly, bravely holding Damianʼs gaze.
Damian smirked. He let his hand slip off the mantelpiece and placed it on Henryʼs shoulder, squeezing it as if they were best of friends, but then Henry could feel Damianʼs firm grip becoming stronger until it hurt, and he could sense all the rage that was boiling inside the military man.
“I am watching you, Abbott,” Damian hissed. Then he abruptly let go of Henry, turned around and strode out of the room, his boot heels angrily thudding against the floor.
* * *
Oscar didnʼt like the thought of leaving Henry behind at the table in the company of Priscilla, Horatio, and Damian, as he knew that Henry felt uncomfortable amongst them. Still, he couldnʼt afford to stay as he would soon head back home. And apart from that, he desperately wanted to have a final word with Sarah.
He rushed up to her room and gently knocked at her door.
“Sarah, it is me, your uncle.”
When she opened to let him in, he noticed that she looked rather exhausted because of the involuntary trip which lay behind her and all the emotional hassle which had accompanied it.
“How is my little birdy keeping?” Oscar whispered softly and took her in his arms.
“Fine,” Sarah answered flatly, freed herself out of his embrace and shuffled over to her bed where she lay down and absent-mindedly watched a fly which was crawling on the wall.
“Horatio told me everything,” Oscar said. “Honestly, did you really have to empty your plate of soup over Damianʼs lap back in Bournemouth? You know how fussy he is with his clothes. Apart from that, you could have seriously hurt him.”
Oscar cast Sarah a reproachful look. At the same time, however, he tried hard to suppress a grin, as he secretly found the mental image of Damian with wet pants highly amusing.
“I did not do it on purpose,” Sarah explained, her voice sounding indifferent and tired.
“Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Sarah didnʼt answer.
Oscar walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, folding his hands in his lap.
“Damianʼs approaches are getting more frequent and obtrusive,” she whispered.
“I know...” Oscar pulled a petulant face as if he himself was to marry Damian eventually.
“How was your weekend with Mr. Abbott?” Sarah suddenly asked, trying to change the subject which caused her so much discomfort to talk about.
Oscar laughed.
“It was awful.”
“Was he such lousy company?” Sarah asked in wonder.
“He was indeed.”
“Why?”
“Because there was so much sorrow on his mind.”
“What could have possibly caused him so much sorrow?”
Oscar smiled secretively at his niece.
“You,” he said.
Sarah frowned, an uncomprehending look on her face.
“Sarah, I need to tell you something,” Oscar went on, taking Sarahʼs hand in his. “I want you to know that this man is all over you. Believe me, there was nothing that could distract him from thinking about you and from worrying about your well-being. Apart from that, he was rather jealous because of Damian being at your side.”
Sarah suddenly got up, her hand slipping out of her uncleʼs grasp. She hurried over to the window and looked outside where night was gradually falling. Oscar noticed that she had begun to breathe excitedly.
“I know that you like him, too,” Oscar said.
Again Sarah didnʼt answer, but Oscar was certain that she simply did not want to admit her innermost feelings. He equally got up from the bed, walked over to her, and took her face in his hands to make her look at him again. He noticed that her eyes were moist.
“Sarah, we both know that life can be horribly cruel...” he said. “But sometimes life also offers us chances which are unique in their nature and will never return if we do not take them once they happen to be presented to us on a silver plate.”
“How do you know that I love him?” she asked.
Oscar grinned. He had only said that he knew that she liked him, not that he knew that she loved him. She had given herself away.
“Because there is a twinkle in your eyes which I have not seen for ages, Sarah. Actually, I am not sure if I have ever seen your eyes twinkle like that.”
He stroked her cheek with his fingers.
“Think about my words, Sarah...” he whispered.
“What is there to think about?!” Sarah scoffed. “I can barely run away with Mr. Abbott, can I?”
Oscar cast her a more than meaningful glance.
“I will come and see you again in a couple of days,” he said.
And with these words and a final kiss on her temple, Oscar let go of his niece and left the room.
Still standing at the window, Sarah pensively stared outside, her heart racing in her chest at the thought of Henry Abbott being in love with her and of having him all to herself again the next day.
Chapter 6 – Alone in the Woods
Early in the morning, Henry heard Damianʼs coach finally leave.
At last... he thought drowsily, turning over in his bed. He didnʼt care to watch Damian depart. He had seen enough of him for the time being.
Last night, he had been silent witness to a little haggle between Damian and Sarah in the entrance hall—Henry found himself repeatedly hiding at the landing of the first floor in order to eavesdrop on what was going on downstairs. Damian had been holding Sarahʼs hands in a tight grip, his usual triumphant grin on the face, whereas Sarah had appeared extremely distraught.
“Please excuse me now. It has been a long day, and I am terribly tired,” she had moaned, desperately trying to pull away from Damian. But the latter had just ignored her plea and instead had leaned forward in a sudden and bold attempt to kiss her straight on the lips. But Sarah, obviously having seen it coming, had quickly turned her head away from him so that his mouth had not hit hers but had ended up somewhere in her hair.
“You naughty little brat...” Damian had whispered with an expression on his face which conveyed that he was both appalled and fueled by Sarahʼs habit of constantly rejecting him.
“I will see you again at your birthday celebration in two weeks,” he had said. “I have a big surprise for you...”
A mysterious smile on his lips, he had pinched her cheek with his fingers as if she was a little child, then he had finally let her go, staring after her as she had grumpily crept upstairs without throwing him a backward glance.
Henry noticed that in Damianʼs presence, Sarah felt intimidated and scared, which Henry could understand as Damian came across as incredibly self-confident and strong. Henry was certain, however, that this confidence and strength was at least partially a mask; otherwise, Damian would not have felt the need to worry that a lower class tutor could outstrip him. And worried he obviously was, or else he would not have threatened to kill that tutor.
Henry slowly hauled himself out of bed and got ready for the day. While washing and shaving, he wondered what kind of surprise Damian could possibly have in store for the girl. Judging the way he had announced it, Henry dreaded that it was not merely another piece of jewelry.
Forcing himself not to think about it all the time and not to let his mind be overcome by gloomy visions, he put on his clothes, grabbed his books, and walked over to the classroom. A quick glance at his pocket watch told him that he was a couple of minutes late because he had wasted far too much time dawdling and ruminating over Damianʼs mysterious surprise. But assuming that Sarah would surely be late as well, he didnʼt worry too much about his own delay.
He opened the classroom door and was in for a major surprise: Sarah was already there, sitting at her desk, holding a pencil, her book lying open in front of her. She didnʼt say anything, but looked up when Henry entered and nodded slightly to greet him.
“Good morning, Miss Sarah,” Hen
ry said, trying to not let his puzzlement show too much. “I hope I have not let you wait all too long…”
“Just ten minutes,” Sarah replied.
Henry took another look at his watch. It was twenty-five to nine. If she had waited ten minutes already, this meant that she had indeed been there five minutes before lesson started. Shaking his head in disbelief, Henry walked over to his desk and sat down on the chair. He wondered if her unusual behavior could be interpreted as a sign that her attitude towards him had not changed since their nightly encounter and that she still liked him and didnʼt regret that she had kissed him.
There was only one way to find out.
Henry looked at her and flashed her a contented and endearing smile, the most endearing that he was capable of.
Sarah ever so quickly lowered her gaze and blushed dark red.
Henryʼs smile grew even wider.
It was a sign.
Still, Henry could sense that Sarah did not appear overly happy that morning. Yet again, he had to think about the previous evening when he had seen her with Damian downstairs in the hall, and he guessed that the whole situation in general and the remark about the mysterious surprise had surely unsettled her just as much as it had unsettled him. And then he had to think about everything that Oscar had told him about her past, about her mother and Anthony Farringworth, and he decided that from now on he would be nothing but gentle with her even if her behavior was confusing at times.
“Are you alright, Miss Sarah?” he asked her.
She nodded quietly.
“It must have been a pretty strenuous weekend for you...”
Sarah frowned. Henry gathered that it was probably better if he avoided the topic ʻBournemouthʼ altogether. The memories seemed to burden her too much.
“Alright, we will not work too hard today,” he said softly.
A faint smile of gratitude blossomed on Sarah's lips.
“That would be very kind of you, Sir…” she whispered. Henry felt a pleasant shiver running down his spine. The tone of her voice, this warm, enchanting sweetness that came out of her mouth, reminded him of the moment when she had apologized for the horse incident, when she had kissed him with these soft and tender lips.
Henry secretly pinched himself in the leg in order to get a clear head.
“Well, let us talk about these boring kings then,” he said with a sigh.
His comment made Sarah chuckle.
Her chuckling made him chuckle too; which made her chuckle even more.
Henry tried to pull himself together to avoid that they both broke out with laughter. But then he began to wonder why he should constantly pull himself together.
Why not be a little foolish? Why not be in love? a sweet voice whispered into his ear.
Because she is meant for someone else… another voice, a rather nasty and nagging one, whispered into his other ear.
Just shut your mouth, the two of you… Henry thought angrily.
“I suppose you have not had a chance to do your homework?” he asked, trying hard to strike a more serious note. He had assigned the girl to read a chapter in her history book about past British kings and to learn their names by heart.
“I have indeed. I had a lot of time on the train to Bournemouth,” Sarah answered proudly.
Again, Henry was confused by her sudden zealousness.
“Good… very good. Please begin with the kings of the House of Normandy. Do you remember the time of their rule?” Henry asked.
“They ruled in the 11th century. The first king of the House of Normandy was William the Conqueror,” Sarah began, trying not to look at her book.
“That is correct,” Henry answered.
“Followed by William II, who was his son.”
“Correct.”
“The next king was… “
Sarah broke off and began to chuckle again.
“Well, what was his name?” Henry asked, smiling in amusement and highly welcoming the fact that they were beginning to have a little fun.
“Henry,” Sarah answered. “Henry I. He was called just like you.”
“That is quite true. What a coincidence,” Henry said merrily. “Although I am unfortunately unable to claim I was any monarch, which would undoubtedly have its merits. Anyway, can you tell me who came after him?”
“Well, there was a king called Stephen of Blois,” Sarah continued, “but after him there was yet another Henry. Henry Cur… Curtle… Turtle…”
Sarah frowned as she tried to remember the name.
“Curtmantle,” Henry helped her.
“Right, Curtmantle… And then there was Richard I and John Lackland. And then there was another Henry again, Henry III. Actually, there were quite a lot of kings called Henry during the reign of the House of Lancaster later in time; Henry IV, V and VI.”
“There you go,” Henry replied. “Must have been a popular name then.”
“I suppose so,” Sarah answered.
They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Henry was drowning in her brown eyes as she was bravely trying to hold his gaze. But this time it was not like on the first day when it had felt like a staring contest between them. No, this was rather like the start of a little romance without the use of words. After a while, though, Henry sensed how much it made Sarah uncomfortable. He quickly looked away in order not to embarrass her.
“Well, I can clearly see that you have done your homework,” he said matter-of-factly and flicked open another page in his book.
“It is quite warm in here,” Sarah suddenly threw in.
Henry realized that the air had indeed become terribly stifling inside the classroom. He quickly walked over to the window and opened it, but with summer announcing its arrival, there was only a faint breeze coming from outside. Henry looked at Sarah and saw how tightly she was wrapped in her bodice. Knowing that underneath their bodice women also wore corsets which were even tighter, he kept wondering how one could bear that kind of garment without suffocating in it. Once he had read that in the long run corsets could even cause all sorts of physical deformities or damages to the organs. Still, all the ladies seemed to miraculously make it through the day.
Suddenly, he caught himself wishing he was allowed to unbutton Sarahʼs corset; and not only for the sake of enabling her to breathe.
Sarah raised her head and looked at him, tearing him out of his daydreams and becoming aware of the fact that he had secretly been observing her. This time they both blushed simultaneously.
“Shall I continue with the kings?” Sarah asked uncertainly. She looked pale and feeble, as if she was about to fall off her chair any moment. Opening the window had not really caused the desired cooling. Rather the opposite.
Suddenly, Henry had an idea.
“Miss Sarah, may I suggest something?” he asked, walking back to his desk. “What if we held lessons outside? It is such a bright and clear day, and some fresh air might do us good. It will surely be better than being confined to this small room.”
Henry watched Sarah expectantly as she was thinking hard about his suggestion.
“If you wish so...” she finally answered, shrugging her shoulders and appearing indifferent. But from the way she grabbed her pencils and books in a rush, jumped up from her chair and left the room, Henry gathered that she liked his idea more than she dared to admit. He quickly took his own teaching materials, hastened after her, and quietly closed the door behind him.
Having arrived outside, they crossed the yard and walked along the narrow gravel path which led into the garden. Henry spotted some chairs and a small table in the shadow of a huge oak tree; an ideal place for learning, as he found. However, not far away from it, Thelma and her maids were having their laundry day. The latter meant that they put up huge washtubs, in which they threw an enormous number of towels, sheets, and clothes. And after having scrubbed, thoroughly kneaded, and rinsed them, they would lay the washing out onto the grass to let them dry in the sun. There were tons of sheets and di
rty clothes. Henry had never seen such an amount of laundry in his entire life, and he assumed that it would take the women all day to finish it.
Lady Partridge was there as well, shouting orders at Heather and Ada, even though it was Thelmaʼs task to look after the girls and tell them what to do. But Henry knew by now that Lady Partridge liked to mess with everything and generally pretended to always know better; just like her husband. And so Lady Partridge shouted at Thelma, and Thelma shouted at the girls, and the girls shouted at each other. Henry immediately realized that it was definitely not the ideal surrounding to concentrate on learning and have some quiet hours with Sarah.
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