“What does it say?” Henry asked, curiously peering over Sarahʼs shoulder. An expression of sentimental bliss on her face, Sarah wordlessly handed him the message.
The telegram was from Lord Partridge. And it said:
will stay for another day - will not be back until tomorrow – mr abbott to look after you until further notice - behave
A wide grin spread across Henryʼs face. He leaned forward and quickly kissed Sarah on the lips. Then they parted reluctantly in order to get dressed for dinner.
Later, towards the midnight hours, Sarah sneaked down to Henryʼs room. He let her in, swept her up in his arms, and carried her over to the bed where he laid her down and cuddled up to her.
They took their time undressing. Having got rid of their initial strong tension the night before and that morning in the boathouse, there was no urgency now, and their love-making was gentle and devoid of any pressure. They spent half an hour alone on just examining each otherʼs bodies with lips and fingers in the close warmth of the room and in the dim glow of a single candle.
Henry relished on the feeling of Sarahʼs skin as he let his fingers ever so slowly run along the length of her neck, her back, and her thighs. And when he had come as far as her leg, he started all over again, this time using his lips and the tip of his tongue, which added to her excitement and which made her tremble with the desire to feel him inside of her.
After they had gently loved each other, Henry covered her with the blanket, embraced her and nestled his head against her shoulder. He closed his eyes and was just about to fall into a sweet slumber when he suddenly heard Sarahʼs faint voice as she began to speak.
“What is it like in America...?”
Puzzled, Henry opened his eyes. He suddenly felt wide awake again.
“From what my brother writes to me, I take it that it must be an amazing place to be,” he whispered. “The cities are huge and the countryside is vast and full of unimaginable beauty. The sky is the limit...”
“And how does one get there?”
“A steamship goes right from London to New York at regular intervals.”
“And how long does it take—the journey, I mean?”
“It depends on the ship. Some take about a fortnight.”
“A fortnight…!?” Sarah exclaimed. “That seems like an incredibly long time on sea...”
“Well, others only need twelve days or nine...” Henry answered. “But as far as I know, the ships are equipped with all necessary facilities nowadays. It is like being in a hotel. You will feel like a queen in a palace. I will make you feel like one...”
He began to kiss her again and let his hands slowely wander over her breasts, stroking and kneading them.
“We donʼt need to go to America if it is too far away for you,” he whispered after a little while. “I will gladly bring you somewhere else. Wherever you want...”
But Sarah didnʼt reply. He noticed that she had fallen asleep and was now peacefully dozing in his arms.
With a sigh, he placed his head on her shoulder and stared into the flickering shadows that the candle, which was gradually burning down, threw at the wall.
At least she was seriously thinking about it and all was not lost yet.
Chapter 11 – Eighteen
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, my beloved Henry asked me to marry him, and I just do not know what I am so supposed to do! I am in such an emotional turmoil...
Today during lessons, he was sitting next to me, holding me, whilst I was trying hard to concentrate on reading a passage out of a book of poems which he had given to me. I can not even remember anymore what the poem was about, as only my mouth moved mechanically, reading the words, but my mind was in completely other spheres; spheres that only consisted of the sweet sensation of Henryʼs fingers stroking my skin and his lips brushing my cheek. His mesmerizing eyes were resting on me as if he was trying to learn my face by heart so that he would have something to remember in the moments that I am not at his side.
Sometimes I believe that I can not distinguish anymore between my dreams and reality. I find myself in a permanent state of sweet intoxication. Henry seems to be an angel who happened to come into my life at a time when I needed him most. Sometimes I look at him and doubt if he is real at all, or if he is just a mere vision of mine, emerging out of hopelessness and despair like a light that has come to save me from damnation.
Oh, if only I was not such a coward... Suddenly I see myself presented with this unique possibility to get away from Damian and to marry Henry, and still I am in double minds about it. Henry makes it all sound so easy, as if it was a walk through the park on a sunny afternoon to follow him to a far away land which I do not know anything about, except for the fact that it is beautiful, as Henry claims. And even he himself, who has never been there before, only relies on the word of his brother.
But then again, I know that my ignorance regarding other countries is not the sole reason why I feel so afraid of following him to America or to any other place in the world. Thinking about it, I could not really care less where we would go if we really went away.
No, there are truly subtler things which make me dither, considerations which I currently find myself unable to share with Henry as I am afraid that, despite his unquestionable understanding and sympathy, he would not comprehend if I told him the truth. And that truth is that I can hardly bear the thought of not knowing what kind of future will await me if I really follow him. I have only known Henry for three weeks. Is that really long enough to judge that he, despite his words, will take care of me and love me till the end of days? I can hardly believe that a girl like me should be capable of binding a wonderful man like him for the rest of her life. What if he leaves me one distant day?What if he finds someone else to love?
If Damian hurt me like that, if he left me eventually, I would not care because I already do not care about him now. Whatever he would do to me would be nothing but a superficial bruise. It would never inflict any pain to my heart.But as for Henry, I would not survive if he did not love me anymore, if he did not care about me anymore, if he left me alone in an unknown place, or if something else would happen and destroy our love.
I would wither like a flower that someone has stomped on.
I am at a crossroads and am highly insecure in terms of making the right decision, in terms of chosing the right way. And there is nobody I can confide in. Certainly, both Henry and Oscar would clearly try to scatter all my doubts. But still, I would not have the guarantee that I long for, a guarantee that nobody can ever give me.
I want to make things right. Not for the sake of Priscilla and Horatio but for my own sake, and for the sake of Henry, my sweet love.
I am desperately waiting for an answer.
And until then, I am torn between my heart that urges me to go and reason that tells me no.
* * *
Henry saw Lady Partridge standing outside in the yard and peering up to the windows, which were so clean now that one could have believed there werenʼt any panes in the frames at all. He thought that if Lady Partridge still found a reason to complain, she truly had to be insane. But eventually, she went back inside, appearing content with the result.
She and her husband had come back from Norwich towards lunchtime, rather exhausted and emotionally churned up but still relieved because Lady Hammersmith was on her way to recovery again.
Lord Partridge had of course found out about Henry and Sarahʼs visit to the Botanic Garden, as shortly after his return some count, whom the Lord knew from casual rounds of cards, knocked at the mansion door, boldly inviting himself in for a cup of tea. Once inside, he had casually mentioned that he had seen Sarah ʻwith some strangerʼ in the Botanic Garden, adding smarmily that he had deemed it necessary to inform the Lord about it. Then he had begun to ask nosy questions until he had been given the desired explanation that the stranger was in fact Sarahʼs tutor. Then he quickly disappeared, obviously eager to spread the news to gossip-hungry v
illage folks.
Despite feeling slightly irritated by this incident, Henry didnʼt really care about it, as Lord Partridge turned out to be quite fond of Henryʼs idea of going to Oxford, although he had not refrained from pointing out that biology was still something that he deemed as not very important when it comes to conversing in society circles. But if it served the purpose of keeping the girl from throwing dung at other people, he wouldnʼt object to it.
Now, Henry was restlessly walking up and down his little room, aware that his and Sarahʼs dissolute sensual life had come to an end, now that the lordship was back. He wondered when he would get another opportunity to be close to Sarah. He definitely didnʼt have the courage to invite her to his room at night, not as long as there was the risk that she would accidentally run into her Uncle Horatio who was equally up at that time, wandering through the house in search of Emily.
Frustrated, Henry realized how unjust and hypocritical it was that he and Sarah truly loved each other but that their love was forbidden, because the exact man who committed adultery night after night didnʼt want them to be together.
He found that all would have been easier to endure if he had known whether Sarah wanted to eventually come with him to America or not. It was obvious that she was thinking about it; or else, he pondered, she would not have questioned him about the details of the journey. He just hoped she would not be thinking about it for too long, because for some reason he had that creepy feeling that there was a certain urge to come to a decision. And he could not say why.
He wondered whether it would help if he sent his brother a telegram in order to ask him to check on possible vacant teaching positions, which he could take up as soon as his feet touched American ground. He supposed that this would give Sarah some assurance that their new life would turn out to be safe and happy, and that they would not be sleeping rough or living off his brotherʼs donations.
But then he worried that this would make her believe that he pushed her. And he didnʼt want that. She was in a rather strange mood anyway. Ever since their heavenly weekend, she had dramatically changed. She was so quiet and absent-minded that Lady Partridge once even inquired if she was ill. Henry knew she wasnʼt ill. He knew that her behavior was a sure sign that she was struggling hard to come to a decision. And the longer she struggled, the more it made Henry wonder what the reason could be that made her hesitate so much.
“You should be happy, my dear,” Lord Partridge kept saying to her during dinners. “It is your birthday on the weekend. And your mother and I am sparing neither trouble nor expense to make this a memorable day for you. You are rather ungrateful, I must say.”
The fact that Sarah didnʼt even give a snappy answer in return as she usually did, was proof to Henry that she had completely other things on her mind. He guessed that, apart from her brooding over Henryʼs proposal, she was surely pondering, just like himself, what surprise Damian could possibly have in store for her. But as for Lord Partridgeʼs remark regarding trouble and expense, Henry was certain that the aim of the Partridgesʼ efforts was not solely to make Sarah happy but to boast with wealth and splendor in front of Damian and the numerous guests who were invited.
The days leading up to the birthday weekend were marked by extensive preparations. Sarah, for example, had to spend hours inside her room in the company of Lady Partridge, Emily, and a French tailor, who were all making her go through strenuous testing phases with regards to dressing her up for that particular glamorous moment on Saturday when she would enter the parlor and when Damian would ask her to open the dance with him.
In the meantime, Thelma and the maids were busy preparing a sumptuous menu. Roderick and Emily had to clean the house from the very top to the very bottom. Every single corner in every single room had to be dusted meticulously, the guestrooms had to be tidied up for those who wanted to stay overnight, the staircases had to be swept, and the chandeliers, the glasses, the plates, and the cutlery all had to be polished. Other than that, a little Austrian chamber music ensemble was hired, invitations were sent out, cigars were ordered, tables decorated, the wine cellar stocked up, and a gaudy miniature statue of a half naked water nymph put up where the broken cherub-and-pansy vase had once stood.
Friday afternoon, when the preparation hysteria had reached its climax, Henry was desperate to get away from it all, and so he asked Angus to bring him to town where he wanted to buy a present for Sarah.
It took him quite a while until he finally found something which was affordable but still special enough to compete with the other guestsʼ gifts. As he didnʼt want to scare Sarah, he refrained from buying her a ring and instead opted for a delicate necklace with a silver cross pendant. Although it had not cost as much as the other pieces of jewelry which Sarah possessed, he was quite sure that she would appreciate this token of his love nevertheless. He was also sure that she wouldnʼt be able to wear it while the Partridges and Damian were around but hoped that at least she would be able to keep it somewhere where it was safely hidden.
She can openly wear it later when we are in America... he hoped.
* * *
And then it came, the important day. All morning, Henry had not been granted the opportunity to congratulate Sarah on her birthday, as right after breakfast she was sent to her room where Emily messed with her hair and the tailor adjusted her dress for the umpteenth time.
Henry was annoyed. He found he should have been given the right to see Sarah at least once before the big celebration started. After all, he was her teacher and he did not see any reason why he should be kept away from her on a day like this.
Lady Partridge was not amused when he politely asked her if he was allowed to congratulate Sarah and give her a gift. She was worried that his interference might disrupt the carefully planned party schedule.
“Roderick and Emily have set up an extra table in the lounge where the guests can leave their presents. You may put yours there. Sarah will have a chance to look at it later once this chaos lies behind us...”
Henry noticed that Lady Partridge was rather irritated and ill-tempered. She was right in the middle of receiving the guests who were gradually arriving, and it seemed to upset her that suddenly there were an awful lot of people filling almost every single room in the house. Even Henry felt as if he was in a hotel since some of the guests would stay overnight and, for this reason, had brought various suitcases with them which were now blocking the corridors. Roderick had the unfortunate task to bring the luggage up to the rooms all by himself; after all, Emily could not help him because she was busy doing Sarahʼs hair.
But no matter how inopportune the moment to approach Lady Partridge might have been, Henry didnʼt intend to give up on convincing her to let him see Sarah.
“What is it, Mr. Abbott? Donʼt you see that I am awfully busy?” Lady Partridge sighed when she saw that Henry was still lingering around her. Suddenly, Henry had a brilliant idea.
“Lady Partridge,” he said firmly, “it is actually quite necessary that I see Miss Sarah before she makes her appearance in front of the guests.”
“Is it? Why?” Lady Partridge looked at him, puzzled.
Henry inched a little closer to her as if he was about to let her in on a major important secret.
“Well, you see,” he whispered, “the problem is that for the past days I have been desperately trying to teach her the dancing steps of the opening Waltz. And I am afraid I have to say that she proved to be more than... well,… incapable of getting it right. I already promised her yesterday that I would see her again today before the actual celebrations will be held, just to help her remember the steps. I mean, it is surely in your interest that she does not cause any embarrassment when she dances with Damian. It might shed a bad light on him—and you, of course.”
Henry cast her a meaningful and conspiratorial glance. The truth was that he had already shown Sarah the dancing steps on Tuesday, and she had done very well right from the start despite the fact that they both had found it very
difficult to concentrate on the dancing. After all, their bodies had been rather close to each other, and knowing that it could not go any further than that had been quite hard to bear.
Lady Partridge was immediately alarmed.
“It is most definitely in my interest,” she muttered. “Follow me, I will bring you upstairs at once!”
They were just about to leave, when suddenly Baron Copperwood appeared in the entrance hall, soaking wet as it was raining outside.
“I will be right with you,” Lady Partridge said to Henry, then her grumpy face transformed into a mask of utter delight as she was crossing the hall to receive the Baron, who smiled gleefully at her, took her hand and planted a kiss on it.
“Baron Copperwood, what a pleasure it is that you are honoring us with your presence!” Lady Partridge rejoiced. “I am so terribly sorry that you got wet. Please do join the others in the parlor where Roderick is serving champagne and excellent lumpfish roe. Maybe that serves as a compensation for the bad weather...”
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