Searching for Sara (Extended Edition)

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Searching for Sara (Extended Edition) Page 20

by Nona Mae King


  Sara flushed as she adjusted her arms under Gwyn.

  “Thank you, Mr. Conklin, from myself and the artist, though I’ve decided to wait on their unveiling. Situations beyond my control, you understand.”

  Sara looked to Christopher, her smile vanishing. ‘Situations beyond’...?

  “Ah. Yes. I believe I understand. Quite unfortunate that, but good for you at not giving comment. They don’t deserve the attention.”

  Alternating her glance between the two, confusion darkened Sara’s blue eyes. What would keep Christopher from confessing her as the artist? Sara forced a smile for Gwyn and then carefully lowered the girl to the floor. She gathered her small hand in hers and stared at Christopher’s polished leather shoes.

  Why would Christopher need to protect her identity? Sara paled. Mr. Brockle—He wouldn’t hound her to America, would he? Why? What could he want from her? She didn’t have money, so blackmail— Dizziness threatened a spill, if not for Gwyn’s arms wrapped tight around her leg. Oh dear Lord. He wouldn’t do that to Christopher, would he? He’s not that black of heart... is he?

  Sara closed her eyes, whispering a prayer for Christopher’s protection and the protection of all the people she had come to know and—She felt a gentle hand enfold her forearm and intercepted Dix’s reassuring gaze. Sara tried to offer a smile, but it wavered at best.

  “It was nice to have this time to talk with you,” Mr. Conklin said. He extended his hand. “I will have my secretary send my contact information so that we might keep in touch. I’m interested in tightening relationships between our galleries.”

  “An honor, Mr. Conklin. Thank you again for coming. I wanted the opportunity to thank you in person for your kind words in the article.”

  Mr. Conklin clasped Christopher’s hand yet again. “Mr. and Mrs. Donovan. It was a pleasure, to meet you. When you return to New York, I’ll be sure to have you over for dinner.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Conklin,” Paul acknowledged. “Hopefully we can discuss a joint display between galleries.” He motioned to Dix. “And I know Sweet would love to show you the house. Recently remodeled, understand.”

  Mr. Conklin chuckled. “I look forward to it, madam. I’m certain it will be as elegant as its designer.”

  Dix smiled and clasped his hand in both of hers. “Oh, I like you.”

  Then Mr. Conklin dropped to one knee while presenting a hand to Gwyn. She took it. “Miss Gwyneth, I count it an honor to have met you, and I hope to see you again.”

  Gwyn sent him a timid smile. Then, after casting a sidelong peek to Sara and Christopher, she gave Mr. Conklin a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for saying those nice things about Papa.”

  “It was my honor.” Finally, Mr. Conklin turned to Sara. “Miss Kreyssler, a pleasure.”

  “I wish you could stay longer,” she confessed.

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Yes, well, unfortunately I made other plans. If I were to cancel, it would be the second time this month. I doubt they would forgive me.”

  “If you’re ever in Richmond again, you’re more than welcome to tea or coffee. I’m only ever busy in the morning with my lessons, and I’d be more than happy to have you after.”

  “Thank you. I will remember that.” He gave her hand another squeeze before nodding to each and then turning to make his way to Harold and the retrieving of his overcoat.

  Sara released a sigh once the door closed behind him. “What a nice gentleman.”

  “Indeed.” Christopher gestured toward her. “Are you well, Sara? You paled a little during the conversation.”

  “Oh. I am fine. I did no’ mean to worry you.”

  “It’s no worry. I noticed Teddy wasn’t with you and wanted to make sure he hadn’t said or done something.”

  Sara shielded her mouth. “Oh dear! I forgot he went to fetch me a tumbler of punch!” She searched the faces for Teddy and then hurried off.

  Christopher stared after her with a growing smile. “She gives him too much leeway. I’m afraid he’ll take it and run.”

  “No more than what she gives you,” Dix reprimanded, brows drawn.

  “What did I do?”

  Paul chuckled and turned to Gwyn. “Angel Girl, I think now is the time for us to go look at those bits of clay you wanted to play with.” He gathered her into his care and disappeared into the milling crowd of connoisseurs, artists, and families.

  “Passing her off to Paul and Teddy.”

  Christopher blinked at her. “Pardon?”

  She pointed at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself for handing Sara off to Paul and Teddy. She’s your protégé.”

  “Dix, you know as well as I do why I did.”

  “And you don’t think anyone will find it suspicious in the least that you’ve barely spent any time with her at all? After being her escort the previous unveiling?” Dix scoffed. “Please.”

  Christopher crossed his arms. “What would you have suggested, then? I certainly didn’t hear you offering any alternatives when we discussed it earlier.”

  “I held my tongue so that I wouldn’t give you a lashing.”

  Christopher lowered his voice when he noticed a few glances cast their direction. “I guarantee here isn’t the place to speak your mind.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Fine, but you had better decide which is more important, appearances or feelings.”

  “Dix, I made the decision I did due to the repercussions to both. I thought I explained that.”

  “But it’s the principle of the whole situation I protest, Chris. They’ve no right to report something that deliberately and negatively effects a tentative friendship. You shouldn’t allow them the satisfaction.” She crossed her arms. “I know Carla wouldn’t.”

  “But Carla isn’t here,” he hissed, “that being the reason for the whole issue in the first place.” He sought Sara’s form, focusing back on Dix when he didn’t see her. “You know what Sa–she would do if they published a false supposition that put a questionable light on the future of our friendship.” He glanced around again. People had migrated to different rooms of the gallery, leaving very few within ear-shot. “Knowing her as well as you do, you know that she would try to protect me from slander, even if it meant giving up her own future.”

  “Don’t be absurd. If protecting you from slander is what God puts on her heart to do, then who are we to say otherwise? Certainly it’s honorable for you to keep her from that position in the first place, but at such a sacrifice? That’s not like you, Chris, and I don’t like the fact this article and the possibility of others pushes you to it.”

  Christopher released a quick breath.

  “I’m not saying you’re doing wrong in not revealing who she is this evening; I honestly don’t believe she’s ready. But holding her at arm’s length will only prove that in private you treat her one way and in public another. Do you want her believing you’re embarrassed by her?”

  He flinched.

  Dix reached out to enfold his upper arm in a tight clasp. “I’m not saying that is at all what she thinks, Chris. I’m only giving you a warning to the possibility. She’s a sensitive soul, and I would hate for all the good changes in her life to be sabotaged.”

  Christopher scrubbed at his scalp. “I’m an idiot.”

  Dix smiled and gave his arm another tight grip. “No, dear. I just have a different perspective on things.” She chuckled. “Now let’s go save our residing English angel from Teddy’s over-eager attempts to win her heart.”

  “I don’t think we have anything to worry about in that respect, Dix.”

  “Oh? And why’s that? He has been more attentive to her this evening than certain other gentleman.”

  “Teddy shies from commitment like a horse from fire. You know that.”

  “Yes, and I also know that our charming lady visitor is one of those types men commonly give up their roaming for.”

  Christopher looked down at his sister, his eyebrow raised. “Teddy? Giv
e up flirting to marry? You’re joking.”

  “Joking, am I? Hm.” She motioned ahead. “If I’m joking, what do you call that?”

  Christopher followed her gesture to see Teddy and Sara standing close together while examining one of the other artists’ displays. Teddy motioned here and there while giving a dialogue or narrative that apparently held some interest for her, as she intensely listened and only occasionally interrupted with either a comment or question.

  Something within twitched and roared in protest, causing a very brief frown. Christopher pushed it aside. “That? Friendship is all I see, Dix. Don’t commit Teddy to anything more. He’ll be horrified.”

  “With an angel like her showing interest in his opinions, offering encouragement to go further, and doing her best to let him know what’s acceptable in talking with a lady? Not likely.”

  “Believe what you want, Dix. I’ve known Teddy too many years. He’s not ready to see a woman as anything but a bit of curve and sweetness.”

  “Christopher Andrew,” she protested.

  He smirked. “Sorry.”

  “Likely story.” She removed her hand from his arm and shoved him forward. “Now go do your duty and behave yourself.”

  Chuckling, Christopher continued toward the duet. But as he drew closer and began to hear the murmur of their conversation mold into words, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. The thought of Teddy growing fond of someone like Sara wasn’t at all impossible. But would he be able to provide her the security she needed? Would he understand her history and adjust himself accordingly?

  Christopher cleared his throat, noticed the sound drew Sara’s attention, and offered her a somewhat uncertain smile. “I don’t suppose I could interrupt this experience of bonding and camaraderie to take over the duty of escort?”

  Sara’s smile vanished as she looked toward him, eyes wide. Teddy frowned. “No fair, Top. I thought she was my responsibility.”

  “She was, for the first half. Now it’s my turn to be charmed and charming.”

  Teddy read the hall clock. “First half, my eye. You don’t want me to have any fun.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Sara continued to regard him as he did his best to soothe Teddy’s rumpled temper. “I never said you had to leave.”

  “To be the third wheel who doesn’t understand a single word of what you artists find funny?” Teddy scoffed. “No thank you. I’ll find my own amusement.” He stalked into the crowd.

  Christopher stared after him, aware of Sara’s curious gaze still examining his profile. Forcing what he hoped to be an easy smile, he felt a bit of surprise when she held his gaze.

  “He was no’ happy with you,” she observed.

  A smirk tilted his lips as he offered her his arm. She accepted. “I think you’re right. I wonder why?”

  “You took away all his responsibilities.”

  “Me?” Christopher asked, feigning shock. “How could I have possibly done that? I only took back mine.”

  “Yes, but I do believe you might have embarrassed him.”

  Christopher blinked down at her. Again, she held his gaze. “Theodore Parker doesn’t embarrass. Believe me. We’ve all tried our hardest to make it happen at one time or other.”

  “Oh I do no’ doubt that. He seems to be an imp of sorts, but....” Her expression softened, altering the loveliness of her face. “Mr. Christopher, did you not see his face? He likely thought you might no’ trust he can do what you asked, which might have hurt.”

  Christopher halted to stare down at her, nonplussed. “You... You’re serious?”

  The soft smile didn’t fade as she rested a hand on his arm. “I know you did no’ mean to, as you do nothing mean or spiteful, but he was trying so hard to be gentlemanly and responsible—”

  “I can’t believe this,” he protested. “Dix chastises me for sloughing you off onto Teddy and Paul—done for your own protection, I might add—and then you chastise me for taking you back from Teddy when you were disappointed that I had passed you off as his responsibility in the first place.”

  Sara laughed, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Christopher.”

  “So what do you want me to do then? Avoid you as I did before and get my ears chewed by Dix? Track down Teddy and hand you off again? Or... or what?” This time Sara lowered her gaze. He scrubbed at his scalp. “I’m sorry.”

  “I did no’ mean to chastise.”

  He released another quick breath, guiding Sara’s hand back to the nook of his arm. “Speaking the truth and being honest is never nagging. The people who need to hear it are the ones who have the tendency of labeling it such.”

  Sara made no response.

  Christopher did his best to gauge the expression on her down-turned face, he couldn’t label it. “Maybe I should have left you in Teddy’s care. I seem to have ruined your evening.”

  “Oh no. I was but thinking.” Her gaze lifted to his, her features relaxing into a smile. “He will likely complain I confessed, but he was off to find you soon anyway. Said that he had to talk to some sculptors who had come and did no’ want to bore me with the conversation.” She giggled. “You two are so silly.”

  Tension melted and he chuckled. “Yes, I guess we are.”

  “It is fun to watch,” she admitted. “I never had brothers and sisters, and I feel as if you and your friends and family are as close as I’ll ever come. It is a miracle of a blessing.”

  “Well, I’m glad you think so.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him, immediately widening her eyes as she began to comment on the different feel of the party. Christopher gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I’m going home, Chris,” Teddy said, shrugging into his overcoat.

  Christopher balanced another collection of dirtied glasses in his hands and looked up toward his friend. “Go ahead. I can finish cleaning up here. It’s not as cluttered as I thought it would be.”

  Teddy nodded, still not meeting Christopher’s eyes while he wrapped his plain gray scarf around his neck and pulled on his gloves. “I’ll be a bit late tomorrow. Another meeting with a new sculptor interested in consigning some pieces.”

  An eyebrow twitched upward as Christopher regarded his friend’s face. “Certainly.” He motioned toward Teddy with a handful of glasses. “Let me know how it goes.”

  Teddy grunted and moved toward the exit.

  Christopher stared after him, floored silent. Teddy had kept his distance most of the afternoon. Thinking it due to the sudden retrieval of Sara from Teddy’s care, Christopher tried to apologize for any insult. His friend simply grunted an acceptance and again disappeared to a mysterious meeting with an unnamed sculptor, much as he did now.

  Christopher set the glasses with a firm clink and rubbed at his forehead. The display of Sara’s colored charcoals drew his attention. He smiled. Her habit of viewing life through rose-colored glasses began to change things for him. He could sense himself beginning to see and feel something beyond what his wife’s death had left. A part of him began to see life as she did. How could he have known that a simple friendship would be the key to that?

  He sighed and bent to retrieve a cloth napkin from the floor. When he straightened, his gaze was drawn once again to her art and the dreams and futures it held—He gasped, for at last he saw an image—the charcoal’s translation from the whisper of fantasy to the heightened reality of oil.

  Twenty-Two

  Interpretations

  24 February 1894

  Noon the following day had nearly come before Teddy’s familiar steps were heard in the main hall. Christopher scooped up a paint-soiled rag to wipe the oils from his hands as he made his way to the hall.

  Their gazes met and Teddy halted, giving an uncomfortable clearing of his throat as he also scrubbed at the back of his neck. Then he wordlessly continued on as he slipped from his well-worn overcoat.

  “Teddy,” Christopher called. His friend halted. “Ted, what’s going on?”


  He shot Christopher a sidelong glance before continuing forward. “Nothing. Forget it.”

  Christopher followed. “Ted, I told you I didn’t mean anything by taking over as Sara’s escort last night. Dix gave me an earful, tha—”

  “It’s fine.” Teddy attempted to continue on again.

  Christopher took hold of his arm. “It isn’t.” He noticed a muscle twitch in Teddy’s jaw and released his grip. “I wouldn’t have asked you to be responsible for Sara if I didn’t think you could be trusted. It’s only—”

  “I know.” Teddy sent Christopher a sharp glare. “Dix chewed your ears. You said that. Last night twice. Now again. I get it.”

  “Then what’s the problem? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  Teddy momentarily clenched his teeth. “Don’t worry about it. I just need to deal with something.”

  Christopher raised an eyebrow. “You certain?”

  His friend’s hand momentarily tightened its hold on the overcoat. Then he looked up to meet Christopher’s gaze and smirked. “You know my sick need to win everything.”

  “Ted—”

  “Chris,” Teddy pressed. “I’m fine. Seriously.” He motioned to Christopher. “Except that a certain collection of art isn’t here.”

  “Teddy, I told you—”

  “Don’t give me excuses. You said you were considering it, and then you come out of your office with paint stains on your shirt and a paint-stained cloth in your hands? I bet if I were to go into your office right now I would find—gasp and shock—an oil painting either in the beginning stages or completed, depending on how much of an inspiration you received.”

  An eyebrow twitched.

  “The itch has you, doesn’t it?” Teddy pressed.

  Christopher looked away.

  “I was right,” Teddy muttered. Then he gave Christopher a slight shove, drawing his attention. “Don’t question it, Top. Don’t ask where it came from or why it’s here or when it might go away again. Just go with it. It’s been too long since you’ve seen something, and I’ve seen what that’s been doing to you. Your life and passion are art, and not creating it was hell.” He again gripped Christopher’s arm. “Inspiration missed you, Top. Now that she’s back, you better listen to her sweet whisper. I don’t think you could survive another separation.”

 

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