by Gayle Buck
Lord Eustace laughed. “Yes, quite frankly, I have. Didn’t I predict just that sort of success when I first met you and Miss Margaret?”
“Indeed, you did, my lord,” agreed Sarah. He took his leave of her and rode off. Sarah lifted the hem of her riding habit, and whip in hand, entered the town house.
When Sarah went upstairs to change out of her habit, she was surprised to find Holby waiting for her rather than her new maid, Bordon. “Holby! Why, what is this? Where is Bordon?”
“She was given the afternoon off, Miss Sarah. I told her to go on and I would help you whenever you came in,” said Holby.
“I am glad. I miss you, my old friend and confidante,” said Sarah with a quick smile as she stripped off her gloves and laid them aside with her whip and hat.
Holby helped her out of the habit. “Miss Sarah, there is something that I have been wanting to talk to you about.”
“Whatever is it, Holby? You know that you may say anything that you please to me,” said Sarah, glancing at the maid’s somber expression.
“It’s Miss Margaret, miss. I am concerned for her,” said the maid.
Sarah turned completely around. “What is wrong with Margaret?”
The maid shook her head. “I’m not certain, Miss Sarah. But I hear her sometimes at night, crying herself to sleep. And nights when she is too tired except to fall straight into bed, I can’t help but think that she has deliberately gone the pace too fast so that she is too exhausted to stay awake.”
Sarah frowned, saying slowly, “I, too, have been concerned about her, Holby. I suspected weeks past that she was not enjoying herself as she was wont to do. Oh, she is very willing to go anywhere and begs to be allowed to attend even those entertainments that Lady Alverley would pass on because her ladyship wishes us to rest. I’ve spoken to Margaret about it, but she laughed it off. She said that she was tired and often got the headache from the heat at the routs.”
“That’s as may be, Miss Sarah. But there’s more to it. I am sure of it. Something is bothering Miss Margaret terribly, but not a word will she say to me,” said Holby.
“Perhaps I should talk to her again,” said Sarah, still frowning.
“I wish you would, miss. I see the awful strain that she is trying to hide, and I tell you now that it bodes no good,” said Holby.
Sarah was a good deal bothered by the maid’s disclosures. As an old family retainer, Holby knew both herself and Margaret perhaps better than anyone. Certainly better than anyone else in London. Sarah resolved to speak to her sister at the earliest opportunity.
When Margaret returned from the dancing party, she was full of high spirits. She began to strip the kid .gloves from her hands. “Oh, Sarah! You should have been there! It was such fun.”
“I am glad that you had a nice time, dear Margaret.” Sarah hesitated, then made the plunge. “Margaret, I should like to discuss something with you.”
Margaret looked around quickly at her sister. “Oh, dear! You have that serious expression in your eyes. What is it, Sarah? Has Grandmama decided that she has had enough of us?”
“Nothing like that,” said Sarah. “Actually, I wished to talk about you. I expressed concern to you some weeks past and—”
“I told you, Sarah, you need not be anxious on my account,” said Margaret with a gay laugh. She got up from the settee, holding her gloves tightly in one hand.
Sarah reached out and caught her sister’s wrist. Earnestly, she looked up into her younger sister’s face. “Margaret, Holby tells me that you cry yourself to sleep some nights. Oh, my dear! Pray confide in me. What affects you so?”
Margaret stared down at her. There was anger and fear in her eyes. Both of her fists were clenched. “Nothing, I tell you! Now let me go.” She wrenched free and ran to the door.
“Margaret—!”
The door slammed and Sarah was left staring at it, more perturbed than ever. Several minutes passed while she sat in thought. It was obvious that Margaret did not want her to pry. But Sarah had seen that underneath her sister’s anger was a desperate unhappiness. She could not shut her eyes to it. Margaret was her sister and she loved her. She could not simply shrug and walk away.
Sarah concluded that she had to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering her sister. She was determined to make another opportunity to speak to Margaret again.
* * * *
That evening at the soiree, someone else had occasion to mention her sister to Sarah. “Far be for me to pry, my dear. But I must tell you that this afternoon at my dancing party, I saw something in Margaret that was quite uncharacteristic,” said Annette Lozanger. “When she thought that no one was looking, she would get almost a woebegone expression on her face. She actually looked weary. But whenever someone addressed her or glanced in her direction, she instantly began laughing and chattering quite in her usual manner.”
“I am grateful for your concern, ma’am. I have also noticed lately that Margaret is not herself, but I cannot quite put my finger on it,” said Sarah. “Have you spoken to my grandmother about Margaret?”
“I have not had the opportunity to do so yet this evening, but rest assured that I shall,” said Annette Lozanger. “It is my belief that the girl is going the pace too fast. She should be reined in.”
“Believe me, ma’am, I hope that we can do just that,” said Sarah.
“See that you do. She will sicken with something if she is not forced to rest,” said Annette Lozanger. She gestured with her fan. “Look at her now! One would never know that she is in the least physical distress. But I have sharper eyes than most. I saw the shadows under her eyes, and those speak more eloquently than all of her appealing ways.” With a nod, she passed on.
Sarah stood where the lady had left her. A frown of concern was on her face as she looked across the floor at her sister. Margaret was dancing with one of her admirers, Mr. Matthews. She was laughing and her eyes sparkled, but Sarah thought that she could detect almost a feverishness in her sister’s gaiety.
“A penny for them.”
Sarah was startled and quickly looked around. She met Lord Eustace’s smiling gaze, and colored faintly with embarrassment. “My lord! I am sorry. I was not aware of your approach.”
“You were obviously in deep reflection,” said Lord Eustace. “Have I disturbed you, Miss Sommers? Shall I go away?”
Sarah shook her head, laughing. “No, of course not! I am always happy to see you, my lord.”
“There was trouble in your expression. Is there anything that I can do to help?” asked Lord Eustace quietly.
Sarah glanced upward, dismayed that he had read so much in her face. He knew her better than she had supposed. She shook her head. “No, my lord. There is nothing that you can do.”
“Ah, I was right. You are troubled. And you were looking in the direction of your sister,” said Lord Eustace. While Sarah stared at him, he regarded the lively lady on the dance floor. “She is partnered by Mr. Matthews. Is that what troubles you, Miss Sommers?”
“Of course not! I have no objection to Mr. Matthews at all,” said Sarah quickly. When he turned an inquiring expression upon her, she started to laugh. “I cannot confide in you, you must know that I cannot!”
“Friends may share what others cannot,” suggested Lord Eustace.
There was a short silence, while Sarah grappled with what he had said. Finally, she looked up at him. “Very well, my lord. I shall tell you that I do have concern for my sister. Margaret seems to be under a strain of some sort. Annette Lozanger was just telling me that she has noticed it, as well. But Margaret claims that she is simply tired. I don’t doubt it, for she always throws herself so wholeheartedly into everything!”
“There is something about your sister—” Lord Eustace shook his head, his eyes straying again to the young girl on the dance floor. “I can’t explain it. Sometimes when I look at her, it’s as though I see someone else. A trick of expression, a gesture—”
Sarah was surprised by what he
had said. She waited for Lord Eustace to continue, but when it became obvious that he had become lost in his reflections, she prompted, “Someone else, my lord? What do you mean?”
Lord Eustace started. He looked around at her swiftly. Color rose under his tan. “Forgive me, Miss Sommers. I was woolgathering. I did not intend to be such dull company. Let me escort you to the refreshments table.”
“No, not just yet, if you please,” said Sarah, laying a detaining hand on his sleeve. A startling suspicion had entered her mind and she had to satisfy herself that it was not true. She looked up at him earnestly. “My lord, I wish you will tell me! I heard some time ago about your betrothed. Miss Vivian Leander and—”
Lord Eustace regarded her with a hardening expression. “This is not a subject that I care to discuss, Miss Sommers.”
“I am sorry! I do not mean to pry into painful memories,” said Sarah hurriedly. “But does my sister somehow remind you of Miss Leander? Is that whom you see when you look at her?”
He looked away for a moment. When he returned his gaze to her, he said harshly, “Yes, Miss Sommers, she does! She is vivacious and lovely and entirely captivating. I am haunted by the resemblance.”
“Forgive me, my lord. But is it my sister or Miss Leander whom you pay court to?” asked Sarah, greatly daring. Her heart was pounding as she awaited his answer.
Lord Eustace stared at her, a stunned expression in his eyes. Then his face flushed with anger. “You go too far. Miss Sommers!” He turned on his heel and strode swiftly away.
Sarah watched him go, a horrible sinking feeling inside of her. It was confirmed when Lord Eustace avoided her for the remainder of the evening. Not once did he speak to her, even to take leave of her as he was wont to do. Sarah scarcely recalled what the rest of the evening was like, except that she had seldom spent a worst one anywhere.
* * *
Chapter 16
The following day Lord Mittenger called as he had promised. He requested a private word with Sarah. “I know that I am breaking all the conventions, Miss Hanson. However, I am persuaded that you shall allow me five minutes,” he said with a grave smile.
There was uncertainty in Miss Hanson’s expression. “I don’t quite know what to say. Lady Alverley is out and—”
“I promise you that I shall be completely circumspect,” said Lord Mittenger.
Miss Hanson glanced toward Sarah. Her gaze was anxious. “Sarah?”
“I don’t think that her ladyship will fault you, ma’am. If you wish to remain within call, you might wait just outside the door,” said Sarah. Her thoughts were not really engaged by the conversation except in a fleeting way. She kept thinking about what she had said to Lord Eustace and wishing that she could undo it.
“Yes, I am persuaded that will be all right,” said Miss Hanson. “Very well, my lord. Five minutes by my watch.”
“Thank you. Miss Hanson.” The baron showed the lady out of the drawing room. He shut the door before returning to seat himself beside Sarah on the settee. He lifted her hand. “Miss Sommers, you cannot be unaware of my purpose in requesting this interview. I have made my admiration known to you. Indeed, I have been hoping to speak to you on this topic for some weeks. Miss Sommers, will you do me the honor of becoming my lady wife?”
Sarah’s attention was at last fully captured. “What?” she asked in liveliest astonishment.
Lord Mittenger was taken aback by her reaction. “Why, I have just offered to you my heart and my hand, Miss Sommers. Surely you realized that was my intent?”
Sarah colored. “I—forgive me, my lord. You have caught me off guard.”
Lord Mittenger began to frown. “How is this, Miss Sommers? I thought I had made my meaning perfectly clear when I stopped you at the park.”
Sarah shook her head, flushing still more hotly. She withdrew her hand from his clasp. “I suppose that I am unnaturally naive, my lord. I am sorry. I did not understand.”
“I have been too forward. I knew it and yet I rushed in. Now see what has come of it! I have caused you unwarranted confusion and embarrassment. Forgive me. Miss Sommers,” said Lord Mittenger contritely.
Sarah covered her cheeks with her hands. She managed a shaky laugh. “Oh, dear! What am I to say?”
Lord Mittenger seized his opportunity. He recaptured one of her hands, not without difficulty. “My dear Miss Sommers! Your maidenly confusion does you no discredit in my eyes. Indeed, it but reinforces my certainty that you are the lady whom I wish to make my own. I ask that you consider my suit for your hand.”
“My lord. Dear Lord Mittenger, I fear that I cannot,” said Sarah regretfully. “You have done me a great honor today, but I would be less than honest if I were to accept you. You have offered your heart and your hand to me, while I can offer only my hand in return.”
Lord Mittenger was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on her face. Gravely, he said, “I understand you, Miss Sommers. Believe me, my regard for you is higher than ever before. I only wish that you could return my feelings.” He stood up, carrying her hand to his lips as he bowed over it. When he straightened, he managed to smile down at her. “I shall leave you now. Miss Hanson will no doubt be waiting for me. Goodbye, Miss Sommers.”
“Goodbye, Lord Mittenger,” said Sarah in a low voice.
He walked quickly to the door, opened it, and exited. Sarah heard a brief exchange between Lord Mittenger and Miss Hanson, before that lady reentered the drawing room.
Miss Hanson’s eyes were bright with curiosity. “My dear! What happened with Lord Mittenger? He left here with such a grave expression. I hope that you did not offend him?”
“Offend him? Not intentionally, ma’am,” said Sarah quietly, rising from the settee and going over to the window. She lifted the curtain so that she could look down into the street. Lord Mittenger was just then emerging from the town house. Sarah watched him descend the steps toward his carriage.
“Oh, then everything is all right,” said Miss Hanson with a note of relief. “For an instant I thought—but all is quite all right, after all.”
Sarah did not reply. She watched as Lord Mittenger climbed up into his curricle and took up the reins. As he drove away, she wondered whether she was allowing her best chance for happiness to exit her life. She could not have Lord Eustace, whom she loved. She did not love Lord Mittenger, but she knew that the baron would have done his best to make her happy. “Perhaps I am a fool,” she murmured.
“What did you say, my dear? I did not quite hear you,” said Miss Hanson.
Sarah turned. “I think that I shall go upstairs and lie down for a while, Miss Hanson. Pray excuse me.”
“But of course, Sarah! Do just as you wish.”
As Sarah left the drawing room, she wished that she could do just that. Unfortunately, it was not in her power to obtain the one thing that she most desired.
Over the next several days, Lord Eustace made it a point to continue to avoid Sarah. When he chanced to encounter her at a function, he was merely civil. Gone was the friendly smile, the polite inquiry into her well-being, the occasional burst of candor and comradery. Lord Eustace offered only a cold bow and a nod before moving on to greet someone else. Sarah was hurt more than she could ever have imagined that she could be. She had lost her friend.
Lady Frobisher asked Sarah about Lord Eustace’s sudden about-face. “Have you and my brother had a falling out, Sarah?” she asked gently.
“Not precisely,” said Sarah. She managed to smile. “You will no doubt tell me what a fool I have been and indeed I have already thought it, Mary. I asked Lord Eustace as boldly as you please whether Margaret reminded him too much of Vivian Leander.”
“My dear!” Lady Frobisher stared at her. Then a thoughtful expression came into her eyes. “Sarah, I think you have hit upon something. Margaret and Vivian Leander ... yes, there are similarities. How strange that I did not see it before! Both beautiful, both lively and captivating. Poor Gil! I did not realize that he was still carrying the to
rch for her!”
“Then you do believe that his lordship is still in love with Miss Leander?” asked Sarah anxiously.
Lady Frobisher looked at her quickly. “You are concerned for Margaret? Of course you are and little wonder! You are wiser than you know, Sarah. It would be a very good notion for you to warn Lady Alverley of what you suspect. You may tell her that she may apply to me for corroboration. Lady Alverley will know how best to protect Margaret.”
“Protect her?” repeated Sarah quickly. “What do you mean?”
“Unless Lady Alverley is a fool, she will not wish to encourage my brother to dangle after Margaret,” said Lady Frobisher forthrightly. She shook her head. “Much as it distresses me to say it, it would be an ill wind, indeed, for any young woman to be forced to compete with a dead woman.”
“Yes, I understand,” said Sarah unhappily.
Lady Frobisher touched Sarah’s arm in sympathy. “I am sorry, my dear. I know what good friends that you and Gil have been. It must be difficult for you since he has turned away. But perhaps it is for the best just now.”
Sarah felt tears start into her eyes, but she blinked them back. “It is always painful to lose a friend, of course. But I shall manage.”
“Good girl,” said Lady Frobisher. “Now I see that my lord is signaling to me. We will shortly be leaving, I suspect. Good night, dear Sarah.”
Sarah said good night and Lady Frobisher swished away. Sarah was left prey to her emotions. She was confused and dismayed. Everything was horrid. She had not only lost Lord Eustace’s friendship, but she had virtually driven a spoke through the wheel of her sister’s future happiness. She had an obligation to inform her grandmother of what Lady Frobisher had said and when she did so, Lord Eustace would most likely not be considered a good candidate any longer. Sarah knew that if her sister was in any way emotionally attached to Lord Eustace, Margaret would feel pain at the separation. Yet if she said nothing, and Margaret did indeed accept an offer from Lord Eustace, then her sister would experience disillusionment and pain of another sort.
