“It surely will,” Baron Copperwood replied happily. “I have been told that the lumpfish roe was exclusively imported from Germany.”
“It has indeed, dear Baron,” Lady Partridge twittered. “Just for you, because we know that you like it so much!”
“Well, at least something the Germans are good for,” Baron Copperwood scoffed before bursting out in boisterous laughter.
“Oh, dear Baron, your humor is always so delightful!” Lady Partridge chuckled. “I hope that you will entertain our guests with your marvelous wit today!”
“I will, Honorable Lady, I will!”
Baron Copperwood bowed slightly and then marched off in direction of the free delicacies, whereas Lady Partridge turned to Henry, her facial expression immediately becoming stern again. Henry could not get rid of the thought that all her friendliness was fake and that deep inside she wished that day would soon come to an end.
She quickly grabbed him by the arm and shoved him up the stairs towards Sarahʼs room.
“Five minutes,” she hissed when they arrived at the upper floor. It sounded like a threat. “Not a second longer. She needs to be ready when Mr. Cox arrives, and we are already terribly late as this tailor has been taking all morning to fix that damn dress...”
Without bothering to knock, she pushed the door open and stormed inside the room.
Sarah stood in the middle of her chamber on a small rostrum. She wore a cream-colored satin dress and tiny elegant shoes. Her face and her cleavage had been generously powdered, and her long curls had been pinned up and decorated with silver hair slides and real white roses. Next to her, kneeling on the floor, was the tailor, a young man with a thin moustache, who was armed with needles and pins and currently in the process of giving Sarahʼs dress its finishing touch.
When Sarah spotted Henry, her eyes widened in surprise and began to sparkle with delight. She looked so happy that Henry worried Lady Partridge might notice the effect that his appearance had on the girl and that she would draw her conclusions from it.
“Madame, I will be finished shortly!” the tailor announced proudly with a strong French accent, and rose to his feet.
Lady Partridge circled Sarah and stared at the dress in awe.
“Thanks God, Monsieur Leblanc! I must say, judging by all that I have seen so far, this is the best work you have ever done. Truly magnifique!”
“Merci Madame, merci beaucoup...” Monsieur Leblanc shyly lowered his gaze.
“Monsieur Leblanc,” Lady Partridge added, “I hope it is of no disturbance to you if Miss Sarah has a quick moment with her teacher. He needs to show her some dancing steps.”
Sarah cast Henry an uncomprehending glance. Henry secretly winked at her. She understood.
“Certainement, Madame,” Monsieur Leblanc said and bowed obediently.
Lady Partridge quickly turned to Henry, a pleading look in her eyes.
“Mr. Abbott, please do what you can in the little time that is left…!”
“I will do my best, as always...” Henry answered reassuringly.
Lady Partridge sighed and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Sarah looked wistfully at Henry. He could see that she would have wanted to throw herself in his arms, just as he wanted to wrap his arms around her. But with Monsieur Leblanc still in the room, they couldnʼt.
“Please, do not mind me. Just pretend that I am not here at all. Mon Dieu, où sont-elles, les aiguilles...?” Monsieur Leblanc sighed as he was quickly creeping along the floor on all fours, searching the ground for some pins which he had dropped during his work.
“Happy birthday, Miss Partridge,” Henry whispered. He handed Sarah the little gift box containing the necklace.
Sarah shyly accepted it.
“Thank you, Mr. Abbott,” she said, her voice breaking. She stepped down from the rostrum and opened the little box, and when she saw the little silver cross in it, her eyes grew wide.
“Mr. Abbott, this is much too expensive!” she exclaimed, appearing sincerely touched by his gesture of still buying her jewelry despite the fact that he didnʼt have a lot of money.
“Please, do not worry about it, Miss Partridge,” Henry answered, a mild smile on his lips.
Sarahʼs eyes looked slightly sad when she held the necklace in her hands and let the delicate chain run through her fingers. Henry knew exactly what she was thinking. She was wondering if she would ever have the chance to wear it.
“Miss Partridge, I promised to show you the dancing steps for the Waltz one last time, do you remember?” Henry said, throwing a side glance down to the tailor, who was still busy searching the ground, cursing.
“I do remember...” Sarah whispered, playing along with Henryʼs lie. Then she took a step torwards Henry and put her hand on his shoulder. Henry in turn placed his hand on her waist and took her other hand in his, then, smiling softly at her, he slowly whirled her around in the tiny room.
Although Sarah was smiling too, her eyes had become slightly moist, and Henry knew that she was filled with the same desire as he was, the desire to spend her birthday together, dance all day long, and then fall into bed at night and make love to each other until dawn.
And although they didnʼt speak, the glances they threw at each other said more than thousand words could have done.
I love you, Sarah.
I love you, too, Henry.
Please, come with me to America.
I have not made a decision yet. I am sorry, Henry...
Suddenly the door flew open again, and Lady Partridge stomped into the room. Henry quickly let go of Sarah.
“Mr. Abbott, I must urge you to go now. Mr. Cox has just arrived! God, Sarah, two flowers have fallen out of your hair! Emily must quickly fix that again… Emily!”
Lady Partridgeʼs scream echoed through the corridor.
“Emily!! God, where the hell is this woman when I need her! Emily!!!”
Henry heard Emily run up the stairs in a rush whilst Monsieur Leblanc had risen from his position on the floor, grabbed his bag of sewing utensils and headed for the door.
“Emily!! Two flowers, two flowers!!” Lady Partridge shouted at Emily, when the latter arrived, and hysterically pointed her skinny index finger over to Sarahʼs hair. Then she grabbed Henry by the arm and brusquely pushed him out of the room.
Henry looked at Sarah one last time, then he heavy-heartedly turned around and went downstairs.
* * *
Damian radiated like the sun. His grin was wider than ever as he was standing in the middle of the parlor amongst all the other guests, vain and proud as a peacock.
It seemed to Henry that Damian considered himself as the most important person in the room and that everybody else was not worthy to kiss his boots. Henry wondered how a young man, hardly older than himself, could be so overly self-confident and entirely lack even the slightest hint of humility.
When Damian saw Henry entering, he shot him a disdainful smile and then turned his face away again in order to continue his animated conversation with Baron Copperwood, who appeared to have taken a particular liking to Damian.
“Would you like a glass of champagne, Mr. Abbott?” Henry suddenly heard Roderickʼs voice next to him. Henry nodded gratefully and took a glass off the tray which the butler held in his hands.
“Would you like some caviar and tuna as well?” Roderick asked.
Henry politely refused. He wasnʼt hungry as he felt his stomach turn at the sight of Damian Cox. And so, he contented himself with his glass of champagne and grumpily strolled over to Oscar, who was standing in a corner, pulling a sour face.
“Are you alright?” Henry asked him.
“Not quite, I am afraid,” Oscar mumbled.
Henry looked at him uncertainly.
“Why is that?”
“You will find out soon enough...” Oscarʼs voice sounded surprisingly bitter and angry. His gaze followed Damian as the latter was marching over to Lord Partridge, who was just abou
t to speak.
“May I have your attention,” Lord Partridge politely addressed the crowd in the room. And although he had not raised his voice, all the guests suddenly fell silent and formed a little circle around the Lord, eager to hear what he had to say.
“I thank you all for being here today in order to celebrate the nineteenth birthday of my dearest daughter Sarah. It is hard to believe how quickly time goes by. Yesterday she was a little child and today she is already a charming, pretty lady.”
Lord Partridge sounded rather sentimental as if he was really moved by his own words.
Next to Henry, Oscar rolled his eyes.
“Hypocrite...” he hissed, seemingly unperturbed by the possible risk that someone apart from Henry could hear him. In fact, a young lady next to him suddenly turned her head and cast him a scandalized look. But Oscar just smiled at her, raised his glass and said, “Cheers.”
The lady eyed him up and down indignantly as if he was mad, and then turned her face away from him in disgust.
Then the door to the parlor opened and Sarah appeared, followed by Lady Partridge who, as Henry noticed, had turned on her fake smile again. The crowd welcomed the two women with applause. Some of the ladies who were present let out a sigh at the sight of Sarahʼs beauty. Some of the men were staring at her for a little bit too long, which made their spouses give them a slight nudge and cast them an angry look as to bring them back to their senses.
As for Sarah, she looked somber and terrified. Henry took a step forward so that she could see him, hoping that she would find a little comfort in knowing that he was there and that she wasnʼt all alone in this moment that so obviously seemed to scare her.
Then Lord Partridge began to speak again.
“I also have the enormous pleasure to announce that Damian Cox is our guest today,” he said. The next moment Damian appeared at his side, flashing his brilliant teeth.
“Dear Damian,” Lord Partridge added solemnly, “it is such an honor to welcome you here today. I am aware of the trouble which you had to go into in order to be able to take the time off, busy as you are.”
Damian made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Ah, itʼs nothing,” he cooed, raising his voice as if he was about to hold a political speech. “How could I not be here on such a special day—a day which is not only marked by something as important as Miss Sarah Partridgeʼs birthday but also marked by something else which is not less important and that I would like to announce here and now! Or would you like to say it, Horatio?”
The two men exchanged secretive, knowing glances.
“No, my dear Damian, I leave it up to you to spread the good news,” Lord Partridge replied.
Damian raised his glass even higher.
“So let me announce then that from today on Miss Sarah and my humble self will be engaged!”
The crowd broke out in cheers, and Lord and Lady Partridge grimaced with happiness and bliss.
Sarah, however, looked rather pale and shocked.
“Henry, are you alright?” Oscar said to Henry.
And as much as Henry wanted to say something to his friend, he couldnʼt. He was numb with disbelief and grief. And so he just stood motionless amidst all the merry people that surrounded him, and blankly glared at Damian. He watched the so despised man take Sarahʼs hand and slip a ring over her finger, watched him drag the girl into the middle of the room and whirl her around on the dance floor as the small ensemble of Austrian violinists began to play a merry tune.
Despite his paralyzed state, Henry felt something boiling inside of him: an enormous anger which fueled his enHe
desire to throw his glass at the wall or bury his fist into Damianʼs face. But he knew he could do neither the one thing nor the other if he didnʼt want to give his feelings for Sarah and his utter disappointment away. Still, his anger wouldnʼt fade. Quite contrary, it was growing and began to mingle with deep exasperation.
“Henry, please tell me, are you alright?!” he heard Oscar next to him say yet again; felt his friendʼs hand squeeze his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.
But Henry just shook Oscar off, whirled around and stormed out of the room. He did not want to leave Sarah alone, but he could not stand the sight of her dancing with Damian either, couldnʼt stand the sight of that sparkling ring on her finger, a ring which had obviously cost a hundred times more than his little plain necklace.
On his way out he almost collided with Lady Partridge.
“Mr. Abbott,” she twittered happily, “I must say you have done tremendously good work!”
“What?” Henry croaked confusedly, not knowing what Lady Partridge was talking about.
“The dancing,” Lady Partridge whispered with a nod over to Sarah. “She is doing exceptionally well.”
“Oh, that...” Henry mumbled when the memory was gradually coming back. He smiled faintly at Lady Partridge, then he excused himself and continued running down the stairs and out of the building. Having arrived outside, he hastened around the corner and disappeared behind a huge rhododendron bush where he vomited.
Bloody caviar... he thought. Then he recalled that he had not touched the caviar at all and wondered what it was that was coming up from his stomach. He came to the conclusion that it had to be pure gall, stimulated by his enormous anger.
When he had finished, he leaned at the wall, exhausted, fighting the tears.
The surprise. That had been it then. I should have known...
“Henry? Henry?! Where are you?”
It was Oscar. He had followed him, and was now fighting his way though the rhododendron bush until he found Henry.
“Watch out, where you treat. I have just been sick.. ” Henry remarked bitterly, pointing his finger at the ground.
“Do you want me to give you something?” Oscar asked, a troubled expression on his face. “I have got some pills to calm you down.”
“I donʼt need pills!” Henry scoffed, his voice becoming louder as his rage intensified. “I need a bloody gun!”
“Henry, I am urging you to be silent. Someone might hear you.”
“I donʼt care. They can all go to hell…” Henry muttered and buried his head in his hands.
“Have you not spoken to Sarah?” Oscar asked him.
“God knows, I have... But she just doesnʼt know what she wants! How can she allow this to happen after... after all that we...we...?”
Henry broke off. He didnʼt want to speak it out loud, didnʼt want to mention in front of Oscar that they had made love to each other, although he was quite sure that Oscar was already well aware of what had been going on within the mansion walls during the Partridgesʼ absence.
“She did not know, Henry,” Oscar explained with a calm and soothing voice. “I witnessed how they told her only ten minutes before she entered the room. Believe me, it took her completely by surprise and she had no chance to revolt against it. And then, what difference would it have made if she had protested… God, you look terrible. Are you sure you do not want me to give you something?”
Henry just shook his head and pushed himself off the wall.
“I need to go back inside,” he growled angrily.
“Henry, please donʼt do anything in a rush now!” Oscar called after him.
I canʼt guarantee for that… Henry thought as he determinedly stomped back inside, leaving Oscar behind in confusion.
In the parlor, the music was still playing.
Without hesitation, Henry crossed the room and walked towards Damian and Sarah, who were sitting next to each other on a settee. Sarah was quietly and incredulously staring at the ring on her finger, looking as if she was still in shock, whereas Damian had turned his back on her and was eagerly conversing with a young earl, who appeared rather spellbound by Damianʼs tales.
“Allegedly it is just as fast as a hackney carriage although it does not need any horses at all,” Damian said, in between taking puffs on a cigar. “And it has a steering wheel and some equipment that
you can use for ʻhonkingʼ, as they call it. I suppose I will actually buy two of them: One for little trips cross-country, and one for just showing off.”
Damianʼs thunderous laughter echoed in the room. Then he noticed Henry approaching, and his laughter immediately ebbed, whereas Sarah looked at Henry nervously, as if she was afraid he would start up a fight. But although Henry was still fuming and would have loved to give Damian a punch on the nose, he wasnʼt interested in conjuring up a dispute which, as he knew, wouldnʼt lead anywhere. All he wanted right now was to talk to Sarah.
When he stood in front of Damian, he cleared his throat and forced a charming smile although he was certain that the spiteful look in his eyes gave his true feelings away.
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