by Anne Herries
‘Then you did not love her? Her son was not yours?’ Sarah gazed up into his face as she understood the truth at last. ‘Oh, John! When we first met again I believed that you were still in love with her. I thought that you did not speak because you could not forget her…’
John shook his head, reaching out to touch her cheek. ‘Oh, no, it was not for love that I held back, but guilt, Sarah. I have always felt that I failed Andrea, that it was my fault she killed herself.’
‘No, John how could it be?’ Sarah smiled at him lovingly. ‘She came to you in trouble, is that not so?’ He nodded. ‘And you helped her by asking her to marry you. That was the act of a true gentleman, John. If afterwards you were unable to love her, it was not your fault, dearest.’
‘I did try,’ John said. ‘I wanted to make her safe, Sarah—but she changed after the child was born, becoming ever more moody and shrinking from me, her moods sometimes so dark that I feared for her sanity. I left her alone—and then one day she came to me dressed in her best and she smiled. She kissed me and said that she would like to move into the room next to mine.’ He hesitated, and then went on, ‘I told her that I thought we should wait—that she was not well and I was thinking of fetching a special doctor to her…’
‘A special doctor?’ Sarah asked. ‘Do you mean…?’
‘I thought she was suffering from some mental affliction,’ he admitted. ‘Oh, I do not think that I believed her mad—but she was restless, going from one mood to the next, and I thought it had made her ill. She was very thin, and I believe in some turmoil of heart and mind. It may have been my harsh words to her that day that sent her to the river in a fit of despair.’
‘Oh, John,’ Sarah looked at him sadly. ‘Your words would not have been enough to drive her to take her own life had she not been ill—or unhappy. Have you asked yourself why she came to you for help?’
‘She told me that she had been forced…’
‘That would have been terrible had it been true,’ Sarah said, her brow furrowed. ‘But supposing that she had a lover and he had gone away? In her shame and fear, she turned to you for help and you gave her what she needed.’
‘Yes, that is possible,’ John said. ‘If he returned and learned that she had killed herself…’ He paused, frowning. ‘I think that I might want to kill a man who had made you desperately unhappy, Sarah.’
‘But you did not make Andrea unhappy,’ Sarah argued. ‘If she was haunted by her love for another man—and perhaps guilt because she understood that you had asked her to marry her out of kindness—it must have played upon her mind.’ Sarah frowned. ‘Did she have a difficult birth?’
‘Yes, I believe it was hard for her. She was always slender in the hips. The doctor told me it would be best to wait at least a year before having another child. It was one of the reasons I did not make an effort to consummate the marriage.’
‘I see…’ Sarah took his hand, holding it to her cheek. ‘I have heard that some women become ill and unhappy after giving birth to a child, John. I do not think the doctors have a name for it, but it is not as uncommon as you might imagine.’
‘Elizabeth said as much to me once when I mentioned that Andrea was moody. She had not suffered from it herself, but she said that she had met others who felt it very badly. She said that it would pass in time, but that a doctor she knew of might be able to help.’
‘So you were trying to help her again, but she misunderstood you,’ Sarah said and smiled at him lovingly. ‘There, I knew that you had nothing to reproach yourself for, John. I think we shall not talk of this again, dearest. It should be put aside. Nathaniel is your son, for you have taken him to your heart. The rest of this must be forgotten.’
‘If we are allowed to forget it,’ John said grimly. ‘Whoever this fellow is, he is bent on mischief. I intend to double the men I have patrolling the estate when we return from Scotland, Sarah. I believe this man is dangerous and we shall not be entirely safe until he has been caught.’
‘But we shall not allow him to disturb us other than to take care,’ Sarah said. ‘Do you agree?’
‘Yes, if that is your wish,’ John said and drew her close. He stood looking down into her lovely face, feeling the desire burn inside him, making him ache with the need to posses her. ‘I do not think I could draw back at this stage, my darling. You are right. We must be married. There is nothing else we can do, because it would kill me to leave you now.’
‘That is all I wish to hear from you,’ Sarah said and stood on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. ‘I cannot wait for our wedding day, my love.’
‘Nor in truth can I,’ John said, his arm about her waist as they strolled towards the house. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with some intense emotion. Sarah could only guess at what was going on in his mind, though she knew that his fear, his anxiety, was for her sake.
Sarah got her wish, for the morning of the wedding was both hot and dry, the sun rising high into a cloudless sky, as she looked out of the window of her bedchamber. She had stayed in bed a little longer for her breakfast had been brought up to her. She had not felt in the least hungry, but she managed to eat a roll with honey and butter, and to drink some of the hot strong chocolate that she liked.
A stream of female visitors had come to her bedroom as she lay propped up against the pillows, looking through some small packages and cards that had arrived that morning. Several gifts from friends had been delivered that very morning, and Sarah was delighted with a silver bangle from Julia Moore, which was personal and in addition to the beautiful porcelain tea service that had come from Julia’s aunt.
She still had a pile of unopened gifts and letters when Tilda came in with a bunch of wild flowers she had picked for her. ‘They had the dew on them this morning,’ Tilda said, placing the little vase on her dressing table. ‘They are not for you to carry, Sarah. John has sent a wonderful posy of roses and lilies for you, my dear. They are being kept cool downstairs, but someone will bring them up to you later.’
‘Everyone is so kind,’ Sarah said, indicating the pile of gifts she had not yet opened. ‘I have not had time to undo them all.’
‘Would you like me to open one or two for you?’ Tilda asked, and when Sarah nodded, she picked up an oblong box wrapped in silver tissue. ‘I wonder what is in here?’ She pulled the ribbons opened and lifted the lid, shutting it quickly. ‘Oh, no! That is awful. I shall take this away and dispose of it, Sarah. I do not know how anyone could be so wicked as to send this on your wedding day.’
‘What is it?’ Sarah asked, her face turning pale. She realised that whatever was in the box was unpleasant, and was glad that Tilda had opened it for her.
‘It is a bouquet of deadly nightshade, and every part of the plant is poisonous to the touch. Had you opened this and touched it, not realising what it was, you might have fallen ill,’ Tilda said. ‘Fortunately, I recognised it at once and did not touch it. I’ll open all your parcels, Sarah, and make sure that nothing like this is in any of them—though I doubt there will be more.’
‘Take it to Charles,’ Sarah said. ‘He will want to know about this, Tilda. If he has the package, he may be able to discover how it was delivered.’
‘Yes, very wise,’ Tilda agreed and went out. ‘I shall return shortly, Sarah.’
Sarah closed her eyes as the door closed behind her friend. It was so cruel of the person who had sent this thing to wrap it as a gift and sinister, for it she had eaten something after touching the posy she might have been ill. However, she was determined not to let the unpleasant incident frighten her, and she had already opened some more of the parcels by the time that Tilda returned to help her. They finished the task together, and were pleased that nothing else of an unpleasant nature had come to light.
Tilda did not refer to it again. She sat and talked with Sarah for a while, but got up and went out when Arabella came to take her place. Sarah did not distress her sister-in-law by telling her of the deadly nightshade Tilda had removed. Arabella
was feeling the strain of carrying her child, though she did not complain—but she would have been horrified had she known that a deadly posy had been delivered to Sarah.
Arabella had brought her some beautiful lace and a pretty cameo brooch, though the main present of a silver tea-and-coffee service was already downstairs in pride of place, ready to be shown to the guests with all the other lovely things that had been sent to John and Sarah.
They talked for a while, and then Elizabeth came. She was followed by Lady Tate and, last of all, Mrs Hunter. She handed Sarah a small flat velvet box.
‘What is this, Mama?’ Sarah asked. ‘You have already given us so much—the silver cutlery and that beautiful Venetian glass.’
‘This is just for you, Sarah,’ her mother said. ‘It is my way of saying sorry for what I said to you before…’
‘Oh, Mama, that is all forgotten,’ Sarah said and gave a cry of pleasure as she opened the box. Inside was a heavy silver chain with a jewelled crucifix. It was a large jewel and very grand. ‘This is lovely, Mama. Was it yours? I do not think that I have seen it before.’
‘It was sold to me when we were in Italy,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘I was told that it had belonged to a saint in the sixteenth century, and had magical powers to protect the wearer, but I do not imagine that is true, Sarah. However, it is a valuable thing and I should like you to have it, my dear.’ There was an odd look in her eyes, and Sarah knew that she was still uneasy about the marriage. It sent a little shiver down her spine, for it was unlike her mama to carry a worry this long. She must be truly concerned to have thought of giving Sarah such a gift.
Sarah thanked her, and got up to kiss her mother on the cheek. For a moment she felt a flicker of fear, her stomach churning because she knew that there was good reason for her mother’s anxiety. Someone hated John. As his wife, she might also be in danger.
Thrusting the shadows to the back of her mind, Sarah rang the bell for her maid and asked for hot water to be brought up. It was time to dress for her wedding.
The sun continued to shine throughout the ceremony, sending rays of colour through the stained glass to form a pattern on the ancient grey flagstones of the church. Sarah’s heart missed a beat as John turned to look at her, his gaze so serious and intent that it sent a little shiver running through her. Why did he look so on their wedding day?
However, as she took her place at his side, he smiled and all her feelings of vague unease fled in the blaze of happiness that his smile lit in her. The ceremony passed without Sarah truly realising it and before she knew it they were leaving the old church to be met with a shower of rose petals. Several children from the village offered her gifts of flowers and straw dolls, which were symbols of fertility and good luck at a wedding.
She accepted them all with smiling grace, and then they were in the carriage, being carried back to the house. Sarah turned to John, her heart beating very fast as he drew her into his arms, kissing her tenderly but with an underlying hunger.
‘Whatever happens, always remember that I love you and would give my life for you, Sarah,’ he said in a voice that rang with passion. The hand that reached up to touch her cheek trembled a little and Sarah wondered why he seemed to be in such distress. He had sworn that he loved her—that he had always loved her—so why should he look as if he were troubled? It was their wedding day. ‘I shall love and protect you always, my darling.’
‘Is something wrong, John?’ she asked, a feeling of foreboding hanging over her. ‘Can you not tell me what is troubling you?’
‘Nothing troubles me, except my love for you,’ John said. He was smiling now, as if the dark clouds had been banished to a small corner of his mind, and yet Sarah was convinced that something had happened—something was playing on his mind. ‘You will always trust me, Sarah? Promise me that, whatever happens, you will not lose faith in my love?’
‘I promise,’ Sarah said and went willingly to his arms. As he kissed her, she felt the familiar stirring of love and desire and the odd doubts were thrust to the back of her mind. She was sure that something had happened to disturb John, but he did not wish to tell her—perhaps because he thought it might spoil her wedding day. ‘I love you, John, and nothing can change that…’
‘Good,’ he said and let her go as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of the house. ‘And now we must go and greet our guests.’
John watched as his new bride moved amongst her guests, greeting them with smiles and kisses. At that moment she was talking to his brother Philip and Lady Elworthy, who had travelled some distance to attend the wedding, and were more than delighted to see him married to an intelligent and pretty young woman.
John was proud of Sarah. However, at that moment his expression was not that of a happy bridegroom. His brow was furrowed with concern, and his eyes were shadowed with thoughts that did not belong here. He turned and walked away, going outside to stand alone on the terrace for a few moments as he tried to gather his thoughts.
‘John—is something the matter?’ Charles asked, coming up to him. ‘You seem preoccupied. Uneasy…’
‘I received another letter this morning,’ John said, taking it from his coat pocket and offering it to his brother-in-law. ‘What have I done, Charles? I should never have married Sarah. If anything happens to her because of me, I shall never forgive myself…’
Charles read the letter and frowned. ‘It says that you should enjoy your wedding night for it may be the last time you know peace on this earth…’
‘It is a threat,’ John said, ‘but is his malice directed at Sarah or me? We shall be quite isolated at the hunting lodge, Charles, and yet I do not wish to disappoint Sarah. I know she is looking forward to our trip to Scotland.’
‘Does anyone else know of your intention to go to Scotland?’
‘I have told no one outside the family.’
Charles nodded. ‘Then there is a way to keep you safe, at least for your honeymoon, John. Listen, this is what we shall do…’ He began to outline his plan, John nodding in agreement as he realised it was the best that they could do at this late stage.
Sarah had noticed John go outside. She knew that his mood was hardly one of unalloyed pleasure, and it bothered her. If something had happened, why did he not tell her? She would far rather know than be left to wonder. Or was he regretting their marriage? No, no, she would not allow the doubts to creep in again! John loved her and she loved him.
Walking to the open French windows, she saw that her brother and Charles were talking earnestly.
‘A penny for them?’ Hearing Arabella’s voice at her shoulder, Sarah turned to look at her. ‘Why so pensive, dearest?’
‘Charles and John seem concerned about something,’ Sarah said. ‘I dare say it is just business…’ She shrugged and walked away from the window. ‘I think everyone has enjoyed themselves, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I am sure of it,’ Arabella said and smiled at her. ‘Just remember that John loves you, Sarah. All this other stuff doesn’t matter. You must just be patient and keep believing that everything will turn out well in the end.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said and smiled at her. ‘Dearest Belle, you always manage to make things better. I think that perhaps I should go upstairs and change into my travelling gown, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I believe it is time,’ Arabella said. ‘I came to fetch you because your mama was saying that you ought to get changed. John will want to start soon if you are to reach your destination before nightfall.’
‘I shall go up and change,’ Sarah said, ‘and then I shall come down and say goodbye to everyone.’ She kissed Arabella on the cheek, walking away from her with her head held high.
As she went upstairs, her mother followed and so did Tilda. With her friends chattering, exclaiming on how pretty she looked in her travelling gown and making her laugh, Sarah had little time to brood, but when she went back downstairs to say goodbye to all their friends she saw John standing with Charles. His expression was so
serious that it made her uneasy.
John was keeping something from her. She wished that he would not—it made her uneasy. She would much prefer that he told her exactly what was bothering him.
Chapter Nine
Sarah looked out of the window as the carriage they were travelling in began to slow to a halt. She was puzzled because they had been travelling for no more than half an hour, and yet they were approaching an inn and it was clearly John’s intention to stop.
‘Why are we stopping here?’ she asked, turning her head to look at him.
‘Because Charles has arranged for us to change carriages here,’ John said. ‘He thought it best—to make sure that we are not followed, Sarah. After what happened this morning…’ He frowned as her eyebrows rose. ‘Charles told me about the posy of belladonna. Apparently, a young lad from the village delivered the parcel. He had no idea what it was, of course. He said that he was given a shilling to bring it to the house, but his description of the man who paid him was quite vague—he said it was a gentleman, but could tell Charles no more than that.’
Sarah looked at him intently. ‘Is that why you looked so stern in church, John? Were you distressed by what my brother told you?’
