by Brenda Joyce
Elgin nodded rigidly. He turned. “Ellen, see to it that their bags are brought up to their rooms.” And then, as if he had not heard Papa, “Make certain someone can press my nieces’ gowns.”
“Of course,” Lady Ellen said. “Bessie will be more than happy to do it.” But there was a funny expression on her face. She hesitated.
Elgin turned. “Lionel? Why don’t you join Harry as he escorts your cousins about the grounds.” It was not a question.
“Yes, sir,” Lionel said with no inflection at all. Briefly, his eyes strayed to Rachel, and their gazes met. It was awkward, as they were strangers, and Rachel quickly looked away. She wondered if he liked her family, disliked them, or had no feelings at all. She could not tell.
Rachel took Hannah’s hand. “We’re ready,” she said brightly. Then a thought struck her. What was poor Papa going to do while they were out?
“Let’s go, while the sun is high,” Harry said, waiting for Sarah to precede him. Sarah smiled at him as she walked past, and Rachel was well aware of the flirtation.
She did not move. “Papa? Sarah can take Hannah and I can help you unpack.”
His eyes softened for the first time since entering the old manor. “Go and have a good time,” he said. “No one deserves it more.”
“Are you certain?” Rachel whispered, not wanting the Elgins to hear. Of course they did. They were standing so close, and no one else was speaking.
Papa nodded.
Rachel smiled at their host and hostess, and with Hannah in tow, she followed Sarah to the door, Harry and Lionel trailing after them.
Behind her, she heard Lady Ellen say, “My lord?” She was breathless. “Maybe I should go with them?”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder and saw the plea on Ellen’s face.
“Ellen, I prefer it if you make certain everything is in readiness for our guests,” her husband said.
Rachel turned away, but not before she saw Ellen’s face fall.
They trooped past a small lake where several swans were gliding by. No one spoke, but it wasn’t as awkward as it had been a few minutes ago, inside the house with the adults. Rachel’s steps slowed. How lovely the shady lake with the beautiful white swans was.
“Those are pretty ducks,” Hannah said softly, clinging to Rachel’s hand. She was beaming.
“They’re swans, dear,” Rachel said as softly. She had never seen a live swan before, but she’d seen them rendered in art and books, and she knew exactly what they were looking at.
“Well, they’re pretty. I wish we could take one home,” Hannah said.
Rachel was about to smile and chide her for such a thought when she felt eyes on her back. She shivered as she turned. Lionel was studying the sisters.
Rachel didn’t know what to say, so she said, “Your swans are so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Lionel replied. “They actually belong to my stepmother. Lady Ellen had them shipped here from the south of Wales. She likes swans.” His eyes moved over her slowly.
Rachel didn’t like his gaze. It was so intent and so opaque. She almost felt as if she were under a microscope, and that he was studying her, dissecting her, trying to understand how she worked, as if she were a machine.
“Hey.” Harry and Sarah were ahead of them, turning onto a small meandering path that led through a grove of silvery birch trees. “Are you all right back there?” Harry called with a wave.
“We’re fine,” Rachel said gratefully, tugging on Hannah. “Let’s go.”
“I want to stay with the swans,” Hannah said with a stubborn set to her chin.
Rachel realized the little girl was going to be pigheaded, and her heart sank. She glanced at Lionel. He smiled, but it was a strange smile, neither warm and inviting nor cold and forced.
“We can watch the swans,” he said. “We can feed them if you like.”
“What do they eat?” Hannah cried excitedly.
“Bugs,” Lionel said, looking at Hannah. “And things on the bottom of the pond.”
“I want to feed the swans.”
Rachel was dismayed. She realized she didn’t really like Lionel, or at least she didn’t enjoy his company and would prefer to remain in one group. Then she heard Sarah’s laughter. It was light and free. Rachel glanced ahead and saw Sarah with her hand on Harry’s arm, her smile as bright and sunny as the day. Harry was also grinning. Apparently they were sharing some kind of joke.
Rachel was a bit alarmed. She told herself not to worry, as Sarah might be a bit reckless, but there was nothing she could do just then to get herself into trouble.
“She likes him. All the girls do. But then, he is Father’s heir.”
Rachel jerked and met Lionel’s pale gray stare. “Surely any inheritance will be divided between you. You’re both his sons,” she said, meaning to be kind.
He looked at her as if she were a madwoman. “This is Great Britain. Inheritances are not shared. The oldest son gets everything. Oh, I forgot. You’re not English, you wouldn’t know.”
Rachel stiffened. “I was born in London.”
Lionel shrugged. “But you’re a Jew.”
Rachel hesitated. “I’m also English.”
“Can you be both?” Lionel asked, brows raised.
“I think so. I mean, I know so,” Rachel said, flustered.
Sarah was laughing again. Rachel glanced toward the path and saw her sister and Harry strolling down it, almost out of view. They were walking so closely that Sarah’s skirts repeatedly brushed his thighs.
“I told you. All the girls like him. He will be baron next. He will have the entire Elgin estate.”
Rachel studied Lionel but saw no jealousy in his eyes. “Is that how your laws work?”
He nodded.
“That is so unfair,” Rachel exclaimed.
Lionel smiled then, clearly amused. “If estates were divided up, a family as old as ours would have nothing but the tiniest parcel of land.”
Rachel absorbed that.
Hannah said, “I want to feed the swans.”
Rachel glanced anxiously at the path, but Sarah and Harry were gone. “We had better go join them,” she said. She heard how worried her own tone sounded.
“Why? Will your sister seduce my brother?”
Rachel whirled. “That is a horrid thing to say!”
He put his hands in the pockets of his tweed riding coat. “But Harry is highly moral. He will never seduce her. He will be a virgin on his wedding night, I assure you of that.”
Rachel felt herself turning crimson. “Let’s go, Hannah,” she said.
But Hannah whined in protest.
“Why are you offended? I’m merely being truthful. Harry will be a lord one day, and he will take a wife. There are many fortune hunters thinking to ensnare him.”
She almost strangled on her shock. “My sister is not one of them. She is . . . a romantic!”
Lionel smiled at her. “How absurd.” He shrugged. “In any case, she has no chance with Harry.”
Rachel felt herself flushing again. But now she was so angry. “Because she is a Jew?”
Lionel nodded, watching her closely.
“Your aunt married my father,” Rachel pointed out.
“Only by running away and eloping. She lost her name, her title, and her fortune. Her parents disowned her. My father disowned her.”
“I know what happened to my mother,” Rachel said, tears coming to her eyes. But she hadn’t known the extent of it, and she was shocked and angered by his words.
“Let’s feed the swans,” Lionel said lightly, glancing at Hannah. “Wait here.” He turned and ran back toward the house.
“Is he a mean boy?” Hannah asked Rachel with curiosity.
Rachel wiped her eyes. “I don’t think so. But sometimes the truth is mean, dear.”
“But he was saying mean things about Mama.”
Rachel stooped to hug her. “No, he was not.”
“Then why are you crying?”
&
nbsp; Rachel froze. She met her sister’s dark eyes. Unlike Sarah and Rachel, Hannah had their father’s swarthy complexion and dark, nearly black, hair. “I’m crying,” Rachel said, feeling the bubble of grief rising, “because I still miss Mama and it hurts sometimes when we talk about her.”
Hannah nodded solemnly. “I miss her too. But I want to feed the swans.”
Rachel smiled and stroked the girl’s curly hair. “We will. I expect Lionel went to get us some swan food.” She hoped he did not intend to hand them bugs. And why had Sarah taken off with Harry like that? She had seen the look in her sister’s eyes. She was more than flirting with him, she was taken by him.
Rachel made a mental note to tell Sarah that she would never stand a chance with Harry Elgin; not that Papa would ever let her marry a gentile, anyway.
“Here we go.”
Rachel looked up at the sound of Lionel’s voice, which was rather cheerful. In fact, the sound of it alarmed her. If she had learned one thing since arriving at the manor, it was that he did not have a particularly pleasant disposition.
He was carrying a small pail. He smiled at them and led them to the grassy, pebbled bank of the little lake. The swans began drifting toward them, their dark eyes bright with expectation.
Lionel dug into the pail.
“What are you feeding them?” Rachel asked warily.
Lionel opened his fist. In it lay a beautiful goldfish. It was alive.
“Can I? Can I?” Hannah asked excitedly.
Warning bells went off in Rachel’s mind. “That fish is alive. And it’s a goldfish. Surely you don’t feed these swans goldfish!” she cried.
The fish began to flop in Lionel’s palm, gasping for air. “Here,” he said, ignoring her, handing it to Hannah. “This swan will eat anything, even your fingers, so throw it toward him carefully. He’s very fast. He won’t miss the fish.”
Hannah was giggling, and before Rachel could react, she threw the tiny red and gold fish at the swan, which dove into the water for it. A moment later the big bird came up, the fish between its beak. It snapped the fish in two, then dove back into the water for the latter half of the fish.
Rachel looked at Lionel in shock. His eyes seemed to be laughing at her and Hannah both. She felt ill. Somehow she broke free of his gaze, and she grabbed the pail. Inside it was an assortment of beautiful, exotic, dying fish. “You took these out of an aquarium,” she cried.
He shrugged. “So? Lady Ellen will buy more.”
“They’re your mother’s fish?” Rachel gasped.
Lionel took the pail from her, reaching in. Rachel watched him take out a beautiful pale blue fish with yellow and orange fins. He tossed it to the waiting swan. “She’s not my mother,” he said calmly. “She’s my stepmother.”
Rachel jerked the pail from his hands and scooped it into the lake, filling it with water and trying not to lose any of the fish. She was relieved when she saw the colorful fish start to swim about in the pail. Slowly, she looked up.
Hannah had realized what was happening, and she was now grave. Lionel had his hands in his pockets, and he was watching her carefully.
“Here.” Rachel extended the pail toward him. “You can put these back where they belong.”
Lionel stared. “You do it,” he said. And he turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 8
“Look at this dress! How can I wear it?” Sarah wailed dramatically.
Rachel was in Sarah’s room. Like Papa’s, it had views of the river and the old castle poised on the opposite bank. The view was stunning: a sweep of green hills and the river winding through. But Rachel didn’t know where to look first, since Sarah’s room was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. The walls were painted a dark yellow, and all of the furniture was upholstered in yellows, blues, and greens. The four-poster bed was canopied, and there was a huge fireplace on one wall. The curtains were a dark green brocade that pooled on the floor. It was a room fit for a princess, not Sarah Greene.
Rachel’s room was next door. It, too, was beautiful, all pale pink and mint green. The fact that the three sisters would all have separate rooms was also amazing.
Rachel turned away from the window to study her sister, who looked ready to cry. She was holding up a pale blue dress that was practically new. “That is a very nice dress,” Rachel remarked calmly.
“It is not an evening gown, and I hate it,” Sarah snapped. “How could Papa bring us here if we do not have the proper clothing?”
Rachel folded her arms. “That’s quite enough, Sarah Greene. Don’t you dare berate Papa now. You know how sad he is and how much he still misses Mama.”
Sarah gave her a look and threw her dress onto the four-poster bed. The underside of the canopy was pleated in gold silk, while the rest of it was pale blue. “They will think we’re farmers,” Sarah said.
“No, they will think we’re honest, hardworking, middle-class folk,” Rachel returned. But now she was thinking about her conversation with Lionel. What they would really think is that they were Jews.
“Well, I suppose I have no choice if I wish to have supper with everyone,” Sarah sighed. “At least the maid pressed the dress.”
Rachel walked over to her as Sarah fingered the blue silk dress. “You will be beautiful in that dress, with Mama’s pearls.”
Sarah looked up. “Do you think so?”
“Yes, I do.” Rachel smiled. Then, with worry, “Why did you and Harry go so far ahead of us? What were the two of you doing?”
Sarah began to smile. It was a somewhat smug and secretive smile. “We were just walking. And talking. He was telling me about his life. He is so interesting!”
Rachel folded her arms. “And handsome?”
“Did you notice?” Sarah gushed, her eyes shining.
“Sarah, he is not for you!” Rachel was now very alarmed. Her sister had stars in her eyes.
“Why not? Because we’re poor and they’re rich? Mama married Papa.”
“And look at what it cost her. It cost her all of her family, Sarah. She had to give up her parents and her brother in order to marry Papa. And you know it!”
“But she loved Papa, and she was happy. You know that.”
Rachel did know that Mama had loved Papa. But their arguments over the Elgins echoed in her mind—there had been too many of those arguments, just as there had been too many tears. And what about all the times that Mama, Rachel, and Sarah had been doing the dishes after dinner? Or cleaning the house? And what about Sunday, which was wash day? So often Mama had been so tired, and maybe so sad.
But she had never complained. Now, seeing how her mother had once lived, Rachel couldn’t imagine how she couldn’t have had some nostalgia for the life she had left behind. But if there had been regret, Rachel had never noticed it. “Yes, she loved Papa very much,” Rachel said quietly.
“Harry thinks I am beautiful. I can tell by the way he keeps staring at me when he thinks I am not looking.” Sarah gave her back to Rachel, who began to unbutton her dress.
“And what about Saul?” Rachel asked, referring to Sarah’s new beau.
Sarah stepped out of her dress. “Truthfully, I have not given him a single thought since we arrived in that little village today.”
“But you’re in love with him,” Rachel said, hoping it was true. Now Saul didn’t seem like such a bad choice, and in any case, he was safer, because he was Jewish and at least he and Sarah came from the same world.
“Not anymore,” Sarah said after a pause. She sat down and undid her garters while rolling down her hose. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“Sarah.” Rachel ignored the question, kneeling before her. “Harry will one day be a baron. He is an aristocrat and a gentile. He will never be serious about you. No good can come of this flirtation.”
Sarah flushed. “Mama married Papa.”
Rachel stood, incredulous. “Is that what you are thinking? To marry Harry? So he can be disowned? So you can both be disowned? Papa will
disown you, too!”
“I hadn’t even thought about it,” Sarah said fervently. “But maybe we will fall in love, and if that is the case, then so be it!”
“No,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “Sarah, there are hundreds of boys to choose from. Please don’t choose this one.”
“It’s too late.” Sarah looked her in the eye. “He kissed me, Rachel. And it was my first real kiss. Not a silly little peck on the lips. It was deep and dark and wild.” Her eyes changed. The light in them was one Rachel had never seen before.
She stared in horror at her sister, whom she no longer recognized. Before her very eyes, Sarah had changed. Finally, she had become a fully grown woman. The girl on the verge of womanhood was gone forever.
“He didn’t kiss you,” Rachel said, thinking of what Lionel had said. “You kissed him.”
Sarah smiled at her and shrugged.
Rachel followed Sarah and Hannah down the winding spiral staircase. Papa was waiting for them in the hall below, and he was so handsome in his black suit that Rachel smiled. His eyes brightened as he gazed at his daughters, his pride evident. “How lovely you all are,” he said in a hushed and reverent tone.
Rachel glanced at Sarah, who was breathtaking and so very much like Mama, and at Hannah, who was so pretty that she looked angelic. Her heart swelled, and she wished Mama was there.
Elgin strode into the hall in a white dinner jacket. His trousers had satin seams. He wore a blood-red signet ring on one hand, and he looked every inch the wealthy and blue-blooded aristocrat. His wife trailed behind him, wearing even more jewels than she had earlier in the day. Her dress was an amazing combination of gold lace and gold silk. It was also scandalously low-cut and full-length. Her hair was upswept, and her lipstick was red, but she still looked impossibly young. Rachel was beginning to wonder if she was even twenty. Sarah now appeared the elder and more sophisticated of the two.
Rachel realized her anxiety was soaring. Her family was shabbily dressed in comparison to the Elgins. She could not even imagine what Lady Ellen’s dress had cost.
