by Joan Smith
Sara was so accustomed to hearing unwanted pity on the score of Peter’s disappearance that she hardly noticed. “I’ve survived for six years. I shall survive this, too. It was kind of you to come in advance and warn me, Haldiman. Hardly a pleasant chore for you.”
“I would do much more, if I could patch it up with you and my brother.” Haldiman tilted his head and examined her playfully. “It is always a lady’s prerogative to change her mind. Feel free to do it. Mama and I would be very happy to have you in the family. And now I have done my duty; I shall leave you ladies to discuss the matter.”
Haldiman left, and Sara sat on a moment alone, thinking. It wasn’t so bad really. It was good for the family to have Peter back, and no one in his right mind would expect her to marry him. He would very likely marry Miss Harvey, and good riddance to him. There lingered, too, the memory of Haldiman, gripping her hands and gazing at her. He was strikingly different from his brother. So thoughtful of him to come in person and tell her first. She remembered the confusion regarding the reason for his coming, and a warm blush suffused her cheeks. As if he would offer for her!
Mrs. Wood and Mary soon joined her. “What do you make of that, eh?” Mrs. Woods asked happily. “You will get to wear your wedding gown yet, Sara.”
“I shan’t marry Peter, Mama,” Sara said, with a dreadful premonition that she would be repeating this phrase for the rest of the summer.
Her mother and sister exchanged sly glances. “But Haldiman says Peter is coming to see you this afternoon,” Mary said.
“Yes, he will come once to apologize.”
“I hope he leaves early. Sir Swithin wants to start your portrait today,” Mary said.
“Bother!” Sara exclaimed. She was too upset to settle down and thought a ride might settle her nerves. “I shall take my ride this morning, or I shan’t get it at all. Will you come with me, Mary?”
Mary hopped up with alacrity. “Of course. I want to hear all about Haldiman’s visit. He told Mama Miss Harvey is pretty. I wager she’ll get an offer from him.”
“From Peter, you mean,” Sara said.
“No, I meant from Haldiman himself. She’s a great heiress, you must know.”
“He has no opinion of her,” Sara scoffed. But as she changed into her riding habit, she found herself developing an overweening interest in Miss Harvey.
Chapter Four
“I have told Sara,” Haldiman announced to his mother upon his return to the Hall.
She gave him a startled look. “Sara bold? Nothing of the sort. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. If there is a fault to be found in the gel, it ain’t boldness. When are you going to tell her Peter is back?”
He raised his voice and repeated, “I have just told her.”
“Ah, good. Now that she knows, we shall all trot over with Peter this afternoon and wish her our best, for one never congratulates the bride. One congratulates the groom.”
“She’s not going to marry him.”
“Eh? Speak up, Rufus.” He hollered out his speech again. “Hah, we shall see about that!” his mother replied. “She was eager enough to have him before. Let the little colonial tag along. That will show Sara she has some competition and make her look lively. She has, you know—competition. Miss Harvey nags like a wife. I heard her jawing at Peter this morning about red jackets. Did you ever hear of such a thing? Or perhaps she was saying something else. Bed jackets, would it be? What would Peter want with bed jackets? She used a very bossy, wifely tone in any case.”
“It will be better if Peter goes alone the first time, Mama.”
“Of course Peter will go along, ninnyhammer. He is the one Sara will want to see.”
Not wanting to tire himself with shouting, Haldiman escaped to his study, where he was almost immediately joined by Miss Harvey, wearing, he noticed, a red jacket. She stepped in uninvited and cast one of her curiously assessing looks all around the room.
“Ah there you are, your lordship,” she smiled.
He knew it was petty of him to let her poor manners jar him. She had heard the servants use the words “your lordship,” and took the phrase for her own. How should a woman from a country with virtually no nobility be familiar with the proper manner of addressing a peer? “Call me Haldiman. Can I help you, Miss Harvey?”
“I’m just having a look around the old homestead. Peter has told me so much about it. I was expecting more than two cases of books,” she added, with a pejorative glance at the glass-fronted cases. “At home, we have the entire collected works of Shakespeare and ever so many of the classics. There is nothing I like better than reading. Many’s the afternoon Fiona and I have curled up with a good book.”
“You will find more books in the library, ma’am, if you wish to read.”
“I hope you have something more interesting than books to entertain us, your lord—Lord Haldiman. Your mama said we are to meet the ‘abandoned bride’ this afternoon.” Her playful tones made light of Sara’s position. “I am dying of curiosity to see her.”
Haldiman stiffened perceptibly. “Peter will be going alone on the first visit. I’m sure Miss Wood will be looking forward to meeting you soon.”
“I wager she will!” A pair of bold eyes smiled knowingly. When they met Haldiman’s glacial stare, Miss Harvey changed her tack. “Do you have any ladies’ mounts in the stable?”
“Certainly. John Groom will help you make a selection and accompany you on your ride.”
Miss Harvey took this as a great compliment to herself and smiled coyly. “I never let a day go by without riding. I like a nice lively mount.”
Haldiman was very happy to be rid of her. He summoned the butler and turned Miss Harvey over to him. During the morning he discussed with Peter the handling of his monies and estate.
“You will be eager to go to the Poplars and speak to your bailiff,” he mentioned.
“I mean to go tomorrow. About Sara, Rufus. Mama insists on coming with me. I’ve tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is. She don’t hear what she don’t want to.”
“Nor anything else,” Haldiman said wearily.
“I was wondering if you’d come along to steer Mama aside while I speak to Sara.”
“Very well, but let us keep the visit short.” He told Peter how Sara had reacted to the news.
“All cut up, was she?” Peter said, with a contemplative smile.
“She was extremely annoyed. I would not suggest you mention marriage at this time, but naturally you must apologize and beg her forgiveness.”
“The proposal must wait a little then,” Peter agreed, with an air of confidence that his brother considered unjustified.
When the visit was discussed at luncheon, it turned out that Lady Haldiman had arranged for the boys to accompany them. “A family party,” she explained. “They will be an enticement for Sara, a ready-made family, with two little boys.”
“Perhaps she’d prefer girls,” Miss Harvey said. “Fiona wanted a girl.”
“By all means wear your pearls, Miss Harvey,” her hostess nodded. Miss Harvey shook her head in irritation. “Diamonds will not do for afternoon. We are quite nice about such things in England. I shall wear my gray serge.”
Miss Harvey said to Peter, “I shall wear my blue.”
“You would look better in colors,” Lady Haldiman said judiciously. “A nice green or blue, but you must not wear a bed jacket. No reason for youngsters to deck themselves out in gray.”
Miss Harvey’s exasperated comment sounded like “Lud!” and was accompanied by a rebukeful glance at the old countess. The glance turned to a syrupy smile when Peter looked at her.
“She thinks you said you would wear gray, too,” Peter explained.
“You are wearing gray, too, Peter?” his mother demanded, frowning. “You used to be more fashionable.”
* * * *
At Whitehern, there was great excitement in preparation for Lord Peter’s visit. Sara’s mother, like the rest of the world, consider
ed it but a matter of time, and not much time at that, till Sara was once again betrothed to her old love. Mrs. Wood spoke fondly of macaroons and plum cake, Peter’s favorite treats, till her daughter called her to order and said no food would be served. After a few protestations, Sara clamped her lips shut and refused to discuss it further. She had succeeded in turning the conversation to other matters while awaiting the dreaded arrival, but her mama noticed she had slipped on her most flattering afternoon gown of mulled jonquil, with the pretty green ribbons.
It was Mary who observed from the salon window that two carriages were proceeding up the lane. “Haldiman is driving his curricle—how I envy him those grays! Oh look, Sara! He has two little boys with him. They must be Peter’s! Peter, I expect, is in the closed carriage. I count two—no, three heads!”
“Haldiman!” Sara exclaimed. A little frown pleated her brow.
Before long conjecture gave way to consternation when a party of four adults and two children swarmed out of the rigs and advanced to the doorway. “He might at least have come alone” was all Sara allowed herself to say. But she writhed at the ignominy of hearing his apology and explanation at such a public forum.
The butler announced, “The Haldiman family and Miss Harvey,” and the two groups stood face to face. Sara shot one fulminating glance at Haldiman. He gave a rueful look and shrugged his elegant shoulders in apology. Sara braced herself to be polite to Peter as she turned to examine him. His ruddy complexion concealed the blush of embarrassment that suffused his face. Only his wavering eyes betrayed a lack of ease. Studying him, Sara could not see much change from the man she had escaped six years earlier. He was the same tall, dark, and handsome mannequin, not quite as well toned, a little older, and less well barbered.
A sudden hush descended as everyone watched and listened for the first words to pass between the couple. At this moment of high drama, Lord Peter reached out his hand, gave Sara’s a firm shake, and said, “As you can see, I’m back, Sara. A bad penny, you know ... Heh, heh.”
“So I see,” she replied, and recovered her hand swiftly.
Before more was said, Lord Haldiman rushed into speech, greeting Mrs. Wood and bringing forward Miss Harvey and his nephews for admiration. As seats were being taken, he said aside to Sara and his brother, “You two will want a moment alone.”
Peter took her elbow and Sara, with another baleful glare at Haldiman, allowed herself to be escorted to a small parlor. Peter fell into a fit of apologies and self-incriminations that was very distasteful to her. To cut it short, she said, “It’s done, Peter. We must inevitably meet from time to time, for society is small here, but we meet as acquaintances, no more.”
“I have no right to expect even that much, after what I have put you through.”
“I did not mind it so much as you fear.”
“You are brave and generous. Also very beautiful,” he added gallantly. Sara always had countenance, that indefinable something that set her a little apart. Her air of calm composure was welcome after the strident company of Betsy. Of course, she had aged a good deal, but maturity sat easily on her shoulders. Almost she looked like a wife and mother already.
“Shall we join the others?” Sara suggested.
“In a moment, Sara,” he said, rising and going to stand by her chair. She had purposely avoided the sofa to keep distance between them. He leaned over and possessed her hand. “I was a young fool, six years ago. A knave and a coward, but I only did it for you. I wished to spare you the embarrassment of being jilted.”
“You only prolonged the embarrassment, Peter. I do not see that it has been lessened by time. I repeat, however, that I was not so heartbroken as you and everyone else imagine.”
“I want to make it up to you.”
“That is quite unnecessary.”
He gave her an arch look. “Very well, play the coy maiden if you insist, but I think you know my feelings.”
“And I trust you know mine,” she replied, with an icy stare. Then she rose, tidied her skirts, and walked with her head high and her cheeks flaming back to the salon.
Miss Harvey was noisily describing the ocean voyage to the company. When Peter returned, her eyes flew to him and the story was halted in mid-Atlantic. “In all the commotion,” Miss Harvey said, “no one introduced me to Peter’s old girlfriend.” A spiteful smile suggested she had chosen her description of Sara with care.
This omission was taken care of by Haldiman. In order to escape Peter, Sara found herself forced to take up a chair by Miss Harvey. That young lady turned a sapient eye on her and said, “My, Miss Wood, you’re not at all what I expected. Peter told us you were young. Of course, that was eons ago that he left you. You must be getting on for—what?— twenty-five or -six now.”
“Twenty-four, Miss Harvey,” Sara replied.
“Mind you, he wouldn’t have told me word one if I hadn’t egged it out of him. Fiona had no idea he’d left a lady crying willow at home. She wouldn’t have touched him with a barge pole if she’d had any idea. I can’t imagine why you’ve not managed to attach anyone else in all that time, for you are really quite pretty.”
“Thank you.”
Miss Harvey immediately adopted a conspiratorial tone, turning her head aside in an ill-bred way to conceal her words from the others. “I think it was a perfectly cork-brained way Peter shabbed off, and so I told him. He’d ought to have faced up to it and not left you wondering if he was alive or dead. And all that trousseau and wedding cake gone to waste! If it were me he’d served such a stunt, he wouldn’t be sitting there now, grinning at us. I’d have clawed his eyes out.”
“Then it is fortunate for him that he did not serve you such a stunt, Miss Harvey. Would you excuse me a moment? I am most eager to meet your nephews.” Sara used it as an excuse to escape this Job’s comforter. She fled to the corner of the room, where Rufus and Beau were in the process of unweaving her mother’s rattan sewing basket. She removed the scissors, pins, and needles to prevent accident, talking to the children as she worked.
A small smile curved Lord Peter’s lips as he watched her. He was right. It was his wee lads that would bring Sara back to him. He made a motion to rise. Haldiman, sensing Sara’s reluctance, placed a hand discreetly on Peter’s elbow to detain him. “I’ll keep an eye on the boys,” he said, and rose to join Sara.
Aware that they were being watched, most noticeably by the Argus-eyed Miss Harvey, Sara was careful to wear a pleasant face, but her words were less polite. “How kind of you to bring an audience to watch me in my disgrace!”
“Sara, I’m damnably sorry. There was no keeping them away. Mama took the notion of coming, and the thing just grew from there.”
“You could at least have left Miss Harvey at home!”
“Alone?” he asked reasonably.
“If she had an atom of proper feeling, she would not have come. The gall of her!”
“I fear we must not expect any propriety from that quarter. How did it go with Peter?” he asked warily.
“He spoke of his ‘feelings’ for me. I told you, I won’t have him!”
“Damn! I warned him not to say anything yet.”
“Yet!” Caution was thrown to the winds as Sara flashed a fierce scowl at her persecutor, for she lumped Haldiman in with his brother in this matter. “Not ever! I told you!”
“You’re still single.”
“Thank you for pointing that out, or I might not have noticed.”
“Peter is still an eligible parti, more so than ever. His wife left him a substantial dot as well.”
“Yes, as well as two sons. I see what you are about, Haldiman. You know he will want a mother for them and fear he’ll offer for Miss Harvey.”
“I confess she would not be my first choice as sister-in-law. Before you definitely decline his offer, why do you not give yourself a few weeks to consider it? There is no other gentleman in your life, I think? You are not getting any younger....”
“I ought to carry a sign p
roclaiming my advanced years, to save you and Miss Harvey the bother of asking!”
“That was ill done of her.”
“She isn’t much younger than twenty-four herself,” Sara snipped.
“She wouldn’t say no to his offer.”
“Then I hope he makes her one very soon.”
“So do not I!”
Before more could be said, Peter took the ill-advised idea of joining them. “What do you think of this pair, eh Sara?” he asked, in a voice that invited praise.
“Very handsome, Peter.”
“Haldiman through and through.”
No one noticed Miss Harvey tripping forward, but she was not likely to stay in her seat when the only two gentlemen in the room had wandered off. “Fie, taking all the credit yourself, Peter!” she charged merrily. “They have the Harvey eyes, just like Fiona’s. Look at those long lashes. We Harveys all have them, not that I mean to puff myself off, I’m sure. Here Beau, come to Aunt Betsy. Sit on my knee.”
She wrested an unwilling Beau away from the sewing basket and held him, wiggling, on her knee. “What a sweet view you have from here, Miss Wood” was her next sally, as she peered through the curtains of a side window, whose view was impeded by a mulberry tree. “Quite like Retford. That is my papa’s estate, in upper Canada. Ten thousand acres in hard wood. Only we have no mulberry tree, and of course, our view is not hampered by a cow shed. An odd place for one,” she added, craning her neck toward the rear where the corner of the barn could be seen. Beau continued his wriggling, and she said, “Quit squirming, little monkey.”
“An odd name, Retford,” Sara remarked.
“It’s English. My mama’s family is from Derbyshire, which is why I was so eager to come to England.”
“You are going to visit your relatives, are you?” Haldiman asked with interest.
“Oh no. We have lost all track of them. My relatives now are the Haldiman family,” she pointed out. “Beau, stop yanking at my skirt.”
