Sarah's Story

by Helen Susan Swift

  Suddenly I did not wish to travel to Dublin or London, the northern Athens or France. I wished to remain in my own, my very own, green little island where everything was that I held dear. I am sure that tears formed in my eye as I thought of leaving, until Captain Chadwick cheered me with another kiss and a pat on my shoulder.

  'Don't take on so, old girl,' he said. 'Come, come, this is a happy time. See what I have brought for you.' Reaching into an inside pocket, he produced a small box.

  Now, I have never been a woman for feminine knick-knacks. Perhaps because I have never owned any or even dreamed of owning such trivia, yet when William pulled out that small red box I was instantly intrigued.

  'What can it be?' I wondered as he held it out a hand's-breadth from my nose, pulling it away as I reached for it.

  'Oh don't tease me so,' I pleaded as William stepped back, smiling as he held the box just out of my grasp.

  'Is this for you? Or shall I replace it where I found it,' William said, walking backward around the Long Stone as I followed him with small steps and rising anticipation.

  'It's for me,' I said, hearing the nearly childish giggle in my voice. Honestly I have not acted so since I was about eight years old but William had such a way about him that I could not help myself. Besides, the contents of that box intrigued me beyond endurance.

  'Oh all right, then,' William stopped and lowered his hand. I took the box gingerly, half expecting some trick. 'Open it then.'

  I did. Inside, sitting on a bed of crumpled red silk, was the most beautiful ring that anybody could have dreamed of. Set on a shaft of gold, a single diamond was surrounded by nine red rubies, each one sparkling in the sun.

  'It's perfect,' I said, staring at this wondrous creation.

  'Rings generally look better when they are on a finger,' William told me. 'Here, allow me.' Removing the ring from its box, he took my left hand and with the utmost gentleness he slipped it onto the finger next to my pinkie. It was very slightly loose but not enough to cause me any worries about losing it. Instead it sat there, snug as if it had been made for me and sparkling like the pride of an Empress.

  I stared at it. 'Is that for me?' I asked. I had never worn jewellery of any sort before, yet alone something that must have cost a queen's ransom. 'I can't imagine wearing this as I clean out the stables,' I said, and laughed.

  'That's just it, Sarah,' William said quietly. 'When you are my wife, you won't ever need to clean out stables again, or do any more of these menial tasks. We will have servants for such things. You will be mistress of our household, giving orders and having others run about at your bidding.'

  I stared at the ring again. Although I heard what William said I am not sure if I quite understood the full implications of my forthcoming marriage. The social leap between skivvy at an inn and wife of a captain of Volunteers was something I had not properly comprehended. 'Oh William,' I said and repeated myself. 'Oh William.'

  'Does that make you feel better about leaving this island of yours?' William asked.

  'Oh yes,' I replied at once.

  'And does it deserve just a little kiss?'

  'Oh yes indeed,' I said, hardly able to take my gaze from the ring as he put two gentle hands on my face.

  I kissed him again, then, tenderly at first and then will increasing passion as we pressed closer to each other. A kiss is an amazing thing you know. It is so simple in itself and yet it can unleash such a torrent of diverse emotions from satisfaction to reassurance and even the wildest of desires.

  However I had no deep desires, no passion for more intimacy when I kissed William, although I did feel his body react against mine. I smiled at that; it is a good feeling to know that one has the ability to arouse a man to passion, especially when that man is to be one's husband. For a second I thought of Kitty and how often she gloated over her undoubted power with men. She would be wild with jealousy the second she saw my ring.

  I pulled back to view my ring again. My ring. I could have looked at it for hours if only to catch the glitter of the sun on the stones and the way the light reflected from each sharp edge. However I had things to do.

  'One last kiss,' I said, breathlessly, 'and then I must be off. I have my work to do for Mother and I have to show off my new ring. Have you seen it?' I held it up so the sun could catch the circle of rubies.

  'I have,' William said. 'It is a fine ring.'

  We kissed once more, passionately, with William's hands wandering where they would on my back and flanks and even, daringly, further south than any gentleman should venture unless to his wedded wife. I allowed that, though, as he had presented me with such a fine ring, and I even pressed against him, momentarily, to allow him a small taste of the delights to come. 'Once we are married,' I said, with a small smile, 'we will have such fun.'

  'Yes indeed,' William sounded somewhat breathless as I broke free, glanced again at my new ring, gave him a final peck on the cheek, turned and fled across the downs, thinking how green with envy Kitty would be. I had never owned such a fine ring and at that second I knew that neither had anybody else. Captain Chadwick must truly love me to purchase such a magnificent ring just for me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Yet strangely, it was not to Kitty that I ran, nor even to Mother, but to Molly's secluded cottage with her friendly goats and the buzz of honey-bees in the row of hives outside.

  'What do you think about that?' I asked Charles as he lay in his bed with Merlin curled up at his side. 'It is a ring from my intended.'

  'You are to be married?' To my disappointment Charles barely glanced at the ring. Perhaps men have less interest in such things as we do. Instead he looked directly into my face. 'To whom?'

  For a Frenchman his language really was impressive. 'To Captain William Chadwick,' I told him. 'The commander of the St Catherine's Volunteers.'

  Charles' smile was forced. As I knew he liked me and so would be happy for me I thought his discomposure must arise from constipation and decided to ask Molly for a tonic for him. One must ensure that one's bowels are kept mobile, you know, as Mother continually harped on to me. A concoction of Aloa Vera, dandelions, nettles and sena should do the trick. I vowed to check on my patient later, quite proud that I had heeded some of my mother's teachings, if disappointed that Charles' reaction to my ring was not quite all that I hoped for.

  I heard Molly banging her feet quite hard on the stairs before she stepped in. 'How are you both today?' She had been milking the goats and handed over a stoneware mug to Charles. 'You drink this.' She listened to my diagnosis of his disposition and nodded.

  'That would help,' she said, 'unless there is another reason for his reaction.' She did not explain further. 'Do you have a sore finger?'

  'Why, no,' I said in surprise.

  'You seem to have some sort of growth on it,' Molly pointed to my ring.

  'William gave me that,' I said and enjoyed her admiration. Honestly, women are so much more appreciative than men about the important things in life.

  'It is the most splendid ring,' Molly said, twisting it, and my finger, this way and that until I nearly had to cry for her to desist. 'I am sure Captain William must have travelled miles to find such a thing. I cannot conceive of a jeweller's shop in all of Wight where he could find it.'

  'He must have sailed to the mainland,' I said.

  'Perhaps that is what he did,' Molly said.

  'That is a sure sign of true love,' I knew I sounded smug but I cared not a whit.

  Molly glanced at Charles and pulled a face.

  'That reminds me,' I said, 'there is a man in the Horse Head who knows your name, Charles, and he is searching for you.'

  Charles half rose. 'He cannot know me,' he said, 'for I scarce know myself. What is this fellow's name?'

  'He calls himself Mr Adam Howard,' I said, 'and I believe he may be as French as you are although he also speaks the most perfect English.'

  Charles pulled a most amusing face. 'Mr Howard. I do not remember that name.'


  'He has a horse called Chocolate,' I added, 'if that helps. He has spent an amazing amount of time riding about the island in pursuit of you.' Now I had started I thought it best to tell all.

  Molly held my hand as I related my tale about Mr Howard and the Frenchmen at Limestone Manor, while Charles looked worried, as he had every cause to.

  'It's all right,' I reassured him, 'we will keep you safe.'

  'More importantly,' he said, 'is that you both keep yourselves safe. These are dangerous times.' He blinked. 'Good Lord… I remember something!'

  'What?' I knelt on the bed in my excitement, nearly crushing the poor man's legs as I thumped down on top of him. Merlin howled in protest at this unwarranted intrusion on what he now regarded as his own territory.

  'I remembered a face,' Charles said.

  'What face? Was it Mr Howard? What did he look like?' I was full of questions.

  'It was a woman,' Charles said. I did not expect the sudden stab of pain that hit me, or the surge of anger that nearly had me slapping my poor French castaway. 'A most beautiful woman.'

  'Was it indeed,' I heard the coldness of my tone as I resolved to rid myself of the burden of this intolerable Frenchman as soon as possible. Why was I even bothering about him? I should have reported him as soon as I knew he was French. Here was I, soon to be the wife of a commissioned officer in the Volunteers and I was pandering to the whims of a damned French Republican who had probably killed a score of honest Britons on his privateering missions. Why, he might even have been responsible for the death of my father, damn his eyes and soul for causing me pain.

  Pain? How could some stray French before-the-mast seaman possibly cause me pain? What nonsense.

  I forced a smile. 'Could it be your sweetheart perhaps? Or even your wife?'

  'No, I don't believe so,' this disturbing, monkey-faced man said. 'She was too old for that.'

  'Your mother, then?' Molly had noticed my reaction and strove to pour soothing oil over my troubled waters.

  'Yes!' Dear, sweet Charles nearly bounded out of the bed in his delight. 'She must have been my mother!'

  My forgiveness was instant of course, and total. 'What was she like? Do you know from where she came? If we know what port you come from, I am sure that Captain Buckett could arrange some sort of meeting with a French fisherman that would see you sent home; if that is what you wish.'

  Suddenly I had no desire to see the back of my addle-headed Frenchman. We had all heard of the horrors of Republican France where the guillotine awaited any who did not obey their obnoxious new laws and where conscription into the ever-hungry army waited every male from teenage boys to even quite elderly men. France was an armed camp and Bonaparte clung to power by declaring endless war on every nation in Europe and by having an army of spies and agents reporting on all his citizens.

  Agents such as Mr Howard?

  'I wish I could remember,' Charles said. He coloured a second later. 'Not that I wish to say farewell to you two ladies. You have been better than welcoming and I am deeply grateful for your kindness.' He took my right hand in his right, and Molly's in his left. 'I wish there was some way in which I could thank you. If ever I remember who I am or from where I come, I will do all I can to repay you.'

  'I could ask Mr Howard who you are,' I said. 'When I last tried he shut his mouth as tight as a mussel. I can try again.'

  'Please do,' Charles said. 'It is most irritating not knowing who I am or from where I come.'

  'The Volunteers are also looking for you,' I said. 'I think we had best find somewhere safer for you.'

  'Where?' Molly asked.

  'Limestone Manor,' I told her. 'Hardly anybody ever goes there; there is plenty space and I am sure we can find a suitable room.' The decision was made. The decision that nearly cost us all our lives.

  Chapter Twenty

  There were more guests at my second wedding than there had been at my first. On one side of the square room were the Caulkheads, smiling and chatting together like the old friends that they were. Unfortunately there were a few notable absentees, with Captain Nash and James Buckett out at sea and Mr Howard away on one of his usual mysterious absences. I was glad to see that both Molly and Kitty were there, the former sitting stiff in clothes far more formal than was her wont and the latter fluttering her eyelashes at every male in scarlet, while running a critical gaze over the dress, looks and attitude of every one of their wives. I also saw her making sheep's eyes at my William and hoped she enjoyed the privilege, the green-eyed minx.

  Talking of Volunteers, all the officers were present, and all their wives, making a phalanx of scarlet interspersed with a rainbow of bright colours on one side of the chapel at Knighton Hazard. Officers from other regiments were also present to see Captain Chadwick married off, and even some of the great and good of the island.

  'You are indeed in exalted company,' Mother said as she made minute and unnecessary adjustments to my wedding dress, patted my hair into place and plumped my bonnet on top as if I were a child going to Sunday School. 'There now,' she stepped back to inspect me, 'you look good enough to eat.' She gave me a very unusual hug, patted my shoulder and kissed me on the nose. 'Please try and keep this husband a little longer than you kept the last. I would dearly like some grandchildren to help run the inn.'

  'Yes, Mother,' I said dutifully. 'I hope you have remembered that William and I are off to Dublin next month.'

  'Oh so you are; that quite slipped my memory,' Mother said. I knew that was an untruth. She had been secretly packing a trunk for me these past two weeks. I had also heard her cry into her pillow at night, although when I challenged her over it she had stoutly denied doing any such thing.

  Now I stood just outside the chapel, looking in. I was more nervous than last time, possibly because my next husband was over ten years older than me and of a much higher social standing, or perhaps because of the impending move to Dublin, away from everything and everybody I had ever known.

  The Reverend Barwis smiled as he saw me. 'The best of luck,' he whispered and continued with the ceremony. I only heard half of it as I thought of the future life I would have, occasionally swivelling my eyes to look at this tall man who was to be my constant companion for many years to come, and perhaps even the father of my children. He was in his best uniform with the scarlet bright in the chapel and the gold braid gleaming under the crystal chandelier. I had never seen him smarter or more handsome, and I felt my breath stop within my throat that this handsome, elegant man was very soon to be my husband.

  The service droned on with my excitement mounting as I neared the actual declaration when I should say 'I do' and commit myself. There was one interesting moment when the Reverend Barwis asked if anybody knew of anybody who might object and Molly chose that moment to burst into a fit of coughing.

  I turned around and glared at her.

  'My apologies, Sarah,' Molly said in a loud, clear voice. 'I don't know what came over me.' And then she gave me a huge wink that nearly set me giggling in front of the Reverend Barwis, my nearly-husband and the entire congregation.

  However, once that little incident was over the remainder of the ceremony proceeded without a hitch and we were proclaimed as husband and wife. Once again the Reverend Barwis invited my new husband to kiss me and once again he did so, to the restrained applause of the crowd. It was not much of a kiss, really, more like a brief peck. I expected more later, and I intended to get it too.

  I was pleased when we escaped from that chapel with the two portraits of Mr and Mrs Ebenezer Bertram looking down upon us from either side of the door and the memories of poor David's unfortunate demise in my head. I had hoped to have the wedding breakfast in the Horse Head but William had insisted that it should be elsewhere. I think he believed our inn was not grand enough for either of us. So instead we happily repaired the short distance to Knighton Hazard, where Hugo Bertram had invited we share his hospitality.

  That was a very happy walk across a trim lawn with h
ardly a buttercup or daisy in view and bird-song the best music in my world.

  I had no hand in the arrangements so was acutely astonished when I walked in to see the entire great hall of Knighton Hazard set up with long tables that groaned under the weight of food and green branches arrayed above. In the centre of the top table was the largest cake that I had ever seen in my life. One layer piled above another, it was beautifully iced and topped with two small wooden figures of a man and woman that must have taken some craftsman hours to carve and an artist patient skill to paint.

  'I have never seen anything so beautiful,' I said.

  William laughed. 'Well, Sarah, you can get used to such things. I have heard that Dublin is one of the most elegant cities in the land.'

  For the first time in my life I also had a dozen servants to wait upon my husband and I – and all the other guests I suppose – and Hugo was the first to approach me.

  'Mrs Chadwick!' he said loudly, whereupon I looked around the room, thinking that my esteemed mother-in-law had decided to pay us a surprise visit. It took me a few moments to realise that I was now Mrs Chadwick and put my hand to my mouth in surprise.

  'May I congratulate you on your new name,' Hugo said with a deep bow.

  'Thank you, Mr Bertram,' I said, dropping my hand so he could hear m.

  'Hugo,' he said softly. 'You must call me Hugo now, and I call you Sarah, or Mrs Chadwick if you prefer.'

  'Oh!' I put my hand back over my mouth. Hugo Bertram was one of nature's true gentlemen, a landowner of repute and the kindest and most amiable of men imaginable, yet he was still far above me in any social scale. Having Mr Bertram's permission to use his first name was something I had never expected. 'Sarah would be acceptable,' I managed to say.