by Janet Tanner
Colour rose in her cheeks. She had quite forgotten she was wearing her engagement ring. Gilbert had noticed it and jumped to the wrong conclusion.
‘I’m sorry, I should have told you,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think.’
He did not answer for a moment, concentrating on urging the car up a small sharp incline. Then he said: ‘ I would have thought a recently betrothed girl would have had her fiancé very much on her mind. Do you love him, Sarah?’
His perceptiveness shocked her. ‘Yes – yes, of course I do,’ she said quickly. She did not want to admit the myriad of doubts that still assailed her when she thought of marrying Eric.
‘I hope so,’ he said seriously. ‘A good marriage can be a wonderful thing but marriage to the wrong person can be a living hell. I wouldn’t want that for you.’
‘Eric is good and kind,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘Being with him could never be hell.’
‘In that case I am happy for you. And I hope this Eric knows what a lucky man he is. Perhaps I may meet him again sometime.’
‘Oh yes. He would have accompanied us today only he is very busy. And Max too – Adam’s partner, you know. But Adam says he does not care for long journeys,’ she said, eager to change the subject for she did not trust herself to hide the truth from Gilbert for very long.
The countryside was becoming steadily more familiar; she recognised the lane along which she had driven with Hugh on that fateful afternoon and turned her head so as not to look at it. Then they rounded a bend and as Chewton Leigh House came into view, dreaming in the heat of the June afternoon, her heart came into her mouth.
How beautiful it was, its ancient stones turned almost golden by the sunshine, tall chimneys reaching up into the blue of the sky. Around it the trees provided patches of welcome leafy shade and dappled the drive with pools of light. Gilbert turned into the stable-yard and moments later Adam pulled in behind him.
‘We’ll go straight out to Long Meadow,’ Gilbert said, handing Sarah down from the high fender. ‘Would you like to come with us, my dear?’
Sarah was looking longingly towards the stables.
‘Do you mind if I don’t? I’d really like to see Sweet Lass and … well, Long Meadow is just Long Meadow.’
Gilbert nodded. ‘She is in the paddock with Baron, her foal. You’ll be surprised by him. He is a fully grown three-year-old now. When we come back from Long Meadow we’ll all have some tea before you leave. If I can’t persuade you to change your mind and stay the night, that is.’
‘Thank you but I am expected back at the motor works in the morning – and besides I am most anxious to discuss matters with Max,’ Adam said.
Sarah found herself fervently hoping she would not run into Blanche or Alicia before they returned. But somehow the prospect, however daunting, was quite overshadowed by the desire to see her beloved mare.
She set off in the direction of the paddock. The air was fresh and sweet; it carried on it the scent of grass and new mown hay. She sniffed appreciatively. These things had once been part of her everyday life which she had taken as much for granted as breathing; in the busy hustle of her life with the Dares she had not realised just how much she had missed them.
In the paddock Sweet Lass was gently cropping grass but of Baron there was no sign. She called to the horse and the moment she heard Sarah’s voice she raised her head and whinnied, then came trotting across, pushing her nose out across the picket fence and nuzzling Sarah. A mist of tears rose in Sarah’s eyes and she buried her head in the horse’s rough neck.
‘Oh Sweet Lass, I’ve come home!’ she whispered – and found herself wishing with all her heart that she need never leave again.
‘Here’s to the success of your aeroplane, Mr Bailey,’ Gilbert said. He raised his teacup as if it were a glass of champagne and his blue eyes shone with enthusiasm. ‘ Since we were unable to persuade you to stay for dinner we shall have to make do with toasting your enterprise in China tea. But somehow I don’t think that will have the slightest effect on the enterprise.’ He turned to Sarah. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to remain with us for a few days, my dear?’
Sarah experienced an ache of longing. If only she could! But Eric was expecting her back – they had a display booked for the following day. And besides … Sarah glanced at Blanche, sitting very taut, very straight, on the Louis XV chair beside the low, heavily laden tea table. When Gilbert had introduced her to Adam she had been sweetness itself, the very essence of charm and politeness, but there had been a cold gleam in her eyes when she greeted Sarah and Sarah was in no doubt that as far as Blanche was concerned nothing had changed.
‘Thank you but I must go back with Mr Bailey,’ Sarah said.
Gilbert nodded, resigned. ‘ Very well. But I hope we shall see something of you before too long. And I am anxious to meet this fiancé of yours again too.’ He turned to Adam. ‘I take it you would like the engine completed as soon as possible. This whole business is becoming something of a race, isn’t it?’
Adam nodded. ‘Things are moving very fast now. I expect either Bleriot or Hubert Latham will manage to cross the Channel before long.’ He paused and added ruminatively:’ ‘I must say I’d rather like it to be Hubert Latham. He only took up flying because his doctors told him he only had a year to live and he thinks he may as well live it dangerously.’
‘The true pioneering spirit,’ Gilbert smiled. ‘I see it in you too, Mr Bailey – and I am certain you will succeed with your plans.’
Adam’s eyes were steely. ‘ I intend to. You know the Bible says the meek shall inherit the earth – and who am I to argue with that? But I will make a prediction. It is the bold who will inherit the skies.’
A small shiver of excitement ran through Sarah and she thought: if anyone can do it, it is Adam Bailey. Arrogant he might be – but perhaps arrogance was an essential in a man who believed he could conquer the laws of nature. Infuriating he might be in the way he could make her feel insignificant and even faintly ridiculous with a word or a glance, but he was also possessed of an undeniable strength and just a hint of the buccaneer. If anyone could get an aeroplane into the skies it was him.
The strange dark excitement tingled deep within her as she looked at him and as if feeling her gaze upon him he glanced up. Their eyes met and the amused challenge in his was so potent she felt momentarily as if she had been struck by lightning.
‘Who do you believe was the first man into the air?’ Gilbert asked Adam. ‘Sam Cody has the credit for it, I know, but I have heard it said that Alliott Roe beat him to it at Brooklands, though he had no witnesses to prove it.’
Sarah bristled slightly. She knew Sam Cody from his ballooning days at Alexandra Palace and liked the eccentric showman.
‘Possibly,’ Adam agreed. ‘Poor old Roe has had more than his fair share of problems. Rodakowski, the racing manager, at Brooklands, is determined to get him banned from there. But at least both of them are genuine pioneers – unlike Monsieur Bellamy.’
‘Monsieur Bellamy?’ Blanche queried, offering him a scone.
‘A charlatan who fooled the entire district into believing the only reason his contraption of bamboo rods and calico would not leave the ground was because the air at Brooklands was different to the air in France. His second brainchild, an aero catamaran, fared little better. It phuttered to a stop halfway across Hugh Locke King’s private lake. Then Monsieur Bellamy, who had unpaid bills owing to practically every tradesman in Weybridge, went up in a balloon and never came back.’
A sudden thunder of hooves outside made them all look towards the window. The drawing-room overlooked not only the lawns to the front of the house but also the parkland to the side. A horse and rider were crossing it at a gallop, the royal blue of the rider’s habit spread out across the pale flanks of the horse, her jet black hair streaming in the wind. They cleared the picket fence that divided park from lawns without even breaking stride and hardly slowed as they passed the drawing-room windows.
&nbs
p; ‘Alicia!’ Blanche muttered. ‘Why must she ride like that?’
Gilbert shook his head but his smile was indulgent.
‘She is a superb horsewoman, my dear.’
‘Perhaps. Nevertheless she will end up breaking her neck.’
‘I doubt it. One of these days she will meet a man who will tame her.’ He glanced at Adam. ‘Alicia is my daughter, Mr Bailey, and she is I confess a little wild. Blanche worries about her but personally I find her spirit refreshing.’
‘She certainly rides well,’ Adam said and Sarah found the admiration in his tone slightly galling after the way he had appeared to find her own ballooning exploits merely amusing.
‘Let us hope then that she contents herself with exhausting her high spirits galloping Baron into the ground,’ Blanche remarked acidly. ‘At luncheon she was threatening to run off and join the suffragettes.’
Gilbert smiled in amusement. ‘Wild she may be but Alicia is too fond of her creature comforts to risk being manhandled, thrown into jail and force fed. The suffragettes are brave women fighting for a just cause and they have my sympathies. But somehow, whatever she may say, I do not see my daughter becoming one of them.’
As he spoke they heard the sound of footsteps outside, the door flew open and Alicia stood framed in the doorway. Her hair which she had not bothered to put up was tumbled into a halo of jet black, the wind had whipped fresh colour into her pale ivory cheeks and her lips were parted into a smile by the excitement of the ride. Sarah saw Adam’s eyes narrow appreciatively as Alicia came into the room with a swish of her blue velvet riding habit, tearing off her gloves and looking from one to the other of them.
‘I didn’t realise we had company!’ Her glance slid coldly over Sarah and came to rest on Adam. ‘ You must be Mr Bailey. I am Alicia Morse.’
Adam had risen. ‘It’s very good to meet you, Miss Morse.’
‘Alicia, please.’ She held his glance briefly then turned away to help herself to a neat triangle of cucumber sandwich, but not before Sarah had seen the look in her violet eyes.
Alicia had not changed one iota, Sarah thought. She still knew how to command attention, still knew how to captivate with that strange brew of straight-forwardness and coquetry, all the more potent now that she was a beautiful young woman. She held centre stage now, eating her sandwich with a mixture of delicacy and delight that was somehow unquestionably sensuous, a graceful figure with the trim and tightly tucked waist of her riding habit giving the impression of curves which were in reality absent for Alicia was still almost as flat chested and slim hipped as a boy.
‘I understand you are building an aeroplane, Mr Bailey,’ Alicia said, running a finger around her lips to brush away crumbs. ‘Have you persuaded my father to construct the engine for you?’
‘He has indeed.’ Gilbert assured her. ‘In fact you may very well see the prototype fly. I have offered Mr Bailey the use of Long Meadow for his trials.’
‘And has he accepted?’ Oh the cool challenge in those violet eyes!
‘That depends on whether my partner and I can find employment here,’ Adam said. ‘We need to work to finance our project, I am afraid.’
‘Has Father not got a job he could offer you?’
‘Lawrence says not – at the moment anyway,’ Gilbert informed her.
‘Oh – Lawrence!’ she said impatiently. ‘ Surely you can over-rule him?’
‘Lawrence is in charge of the works,’ Gilbert said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t undermine his position in that way, Alicia.’
She tossed her head and the small gesture said more clearly than any words what she thought of her brother’s stick-in-the-mud attitude.
‘Well, I do hope you will be building your aeroplane here, Mr Bailey. And who knows – if you do get it into the air perhaps you will take me along as a passenger – or even teach me to fly it myself!’
‘Alicia!’ Blanche said, scandalised. ‘I never heard of such a thing! A woman – flying! It is quite ridiculous!’
‘Why?’ Alicia demanded. ‘ I ride a horse as well as any man and better than most – and sidesaddle too! Why shouldn’t I fly an aeroplane?’
‘I agree,’ Sarah said. She felt Alicia had had things her own way long enough. ‘I’d love to fly an aeroplane and I can tell you, being high up in the air is wonderful!’
‘In a balloon. That’s different,’ Alicia said dismissively. ‘Anyone can ride up in a basket and jump out. But to fly an aeroplane …’
She let her voice tail away, emphasising the difference which existed in her opinion between the supreme achievement and the brainless.
‘I am quite sure you would both make excellent aeronauts,’ Gilbert said with a smile, and to Adam: ‘You can see the two of them were brought up together, can’t you? A little sibling rivalry, you might say.’
Alicia’s expression left Sarah in no doubt but that she was infuriated by the remark. But she smiled at Adam artfully.
‘You see? Father has every confidence in us.’
‘Which I am sure is justified,’ Adam said. ‘But first we have to build an aeroplane that will fly.’
‘You’ll do it,’ Sarah said confidently. ‘What was it you said earlier, Adam? The bold will inherit the skies. That’s you, I’m certain of it.’
‘I hope so.’ Adam stood up. ‘I think, if you will pardon us, Mr Morse, we should be leaving. We have a long way to go and I would like to cover as much of the journey as possible before dark.’
‘Certainly. Take good care of Sarah, won’t you? And I hope we shall meet again very soon, Mr Bailey.’
They completed their farewells and Gilbert accompanied them out to Adam’s Panhard. As Sarah settled herself on the bench seat she realised she was leaving Chewton Leigh with feelings as mixed as when she had arrived.
She loved the place, loved Gilbert, loved Sweet Lass. And on the other hand she hated Alicia and Blanche as much as she had ever done, perhaps more because now she understood them better. Alicia was shallow and an exhibitionist, Blanche a cold and ruthless schemer. Sarah felt a sudden stab of sympathy for Gilbert, trapped in marriage to such a woman.
The sun was low in the sky now, a ball of fire over the distant hills. As the Panhard chuntered away up the drive Sarah turned for one last look at the square impressive façade of Chewton Leigh House, its windows reflecting the scarlet light of the dying sun.
I will be back, she promised herself, and knew that in spite of the antagonisms and frustrations, the ill feeling and the outright hostility, it was a promise she would keep.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Alicia is quite a girl isn’t she?’ Adam said conversationally.
They were bowling along the open road in the fading light. Now that the sun had fallen over the horizon the colour seemed to have faded from the countryside. Blackbird and thrush swooped low in the hedgerows, martins and swallows arced and wheeled, and far out across the rise of open meadowland a hawk hovered on the still air, intent on gaining one more morsel for its supper.
Sarah, who had been watching the hawk, as mesmerised as any field mouse or rabbit by its graceful stillness, looked at him sharply, her hackles rising.
‘I dare say that would be one way of describing her.’
He raised an eyebrow and his mouth took on that lift of infuriating amusement.
‘It doesn’t sound as though the two of you got along.’
‘We didn’t.’ But she had no intention of elaborating and the silence between them was less than companionable.
Now that they had left Chewton Leigh behind she was once again regretting the fact that she was alone with Adam and the long journey back to London stretched ahead interminably. To begin with they had travelled in silence, Adam considering the implications of the meeting, Sarah wrapped in her own thoughts, and what conversation they had was polite and conventional. Now his remark about Alicia caught her on the raw and she wondered irritably just why she should be so infuriated by it. Perhaps it was because she had suffered so much fr
om Alicia’s superiority in the past and had thought that at last she had raised herself to become her equal, perhaps it had to do with the fact that, however unwillingly, she admired Adam and found him almost disconcertingly attractive. Whichever, the thought that he had fallen prey to Alicia’s rather obvious charms was galling, especially as he seemed to consider her own achievements something of a joke.
‘What time do you expect we shall be back in London?’ Sarah asked, attempting to change the subject.
‘Oh – another hour or so, provided my motor continues to behave itself,’ Adam said. ‘Why – aren’t you enjoying my company?’
His tone did nothing to soothe Sarah’s ruffled feathers. The impertinence of the man!
‘Your company is neither here nor there,’ she said tartly. ‘I’m very tired and I have a long day in front of me tomorrow. Besides, Eric will be anxious about me.’
‘Oh surely not. He knows you are in good hands.’
‘He could still be anxious about me. On a long journey like this anything could happen.’
‘Highly unlikely. If he was so worried about you why did he let you come?’
‘He’s not my keeper. In any case I came to introduce you to Mr Morse in case you have forgotten.’
‘I’m sure a letter of introduction would have been sufficient. After all when it comes to a business arrangement it really is between me and Mr Morse.’
And Alicia! Sarah thought furiously. You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, a chance to make up to Alicia. Aloud she said: ‘Well if that’s all the thanks I get I’m sure I wish I hadn’t troubled!’ and was instantly annoyed with herself for she knew she had sounded pettish. What on earth was the matter with her, she wondered, allowing him to rile her in this way?
They travelled in silence for a while, then quite suddenly Adam asked: ‘Are you in love with Eric?’
The baldness of the question shocked her. She glared at his profile, very strong, very aloof in the fading light.
