Filled with hope, Henry happily pressed his cheek on hers, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of her delicate body in his arms.
“May I ask you another question?” Sarahʼs voice tore him out of his daze.
“Hmm...” Henry mumbled and began to lovingly nibble at her ear.
“Who is Seneca?” she enquired.
Henry stopped nibbling at her ear.
“What on earth makes you think about him now?” he asked, puzzled.
“Once during class, I noticed that you were reading a book about him,” Sarah said.
“Oh...right...” Henry answered, remembering that particular day when Sarah had not been at all in the mood to converse with him, the day he had let her copy that very long poem into her exercise book. He was surprised at the fact that she had actually noticed what he had been reading.
“Seneca was a poet and philosopher back in ancient Rome,” Henry explained. “He worked as a tutor to Nero, the Emperor. He had known Nero for a long time and they had got on very well with each other. But one day, Nero ordered that Seneca should be killed—or rather... he forced Seneca to commit suicide.”
“How awful!” Sarah pulled an appalled face. “Why did he want Seneca to do this?”
“He accused him of conspiracy. Nero was a cruel tyrant who was always worried that someone might want to bring him down. He did not even refrain from killing his own family. He had his mother executed, for example, and others fed to crocodiles and lions. One day there was a big fire in Rome and many parts of the city burned down. People claimed that Nero had secretly set the city on fire himself because he wanted to build a new palace. But that is just a rumor. Others say he actually made a great effort to help the people who got hurt or who lost their relatives and homes. So there are always two sides to every story.”
“And what about Seneca?” Sarah asked. “What was so special about him that someone would want to write a book about him?”
“Well, although he was facing his own death, Seneca remained incredibly calm and accepted his fate without protesting against it. In his writings he said a couple of wise things about how to cope with situations of frustration and disappointment in general. He claimed that we practically conjure the latter up by simply raising too many hopes and that it does not serve anyone if we throw a tantrum when things do not turn out the way we want them to. He recommended that we should rather change the way we look at life and the way we view these frustrating and disappointing situations, instead of trying to change them by all means.”
“And do you feel frustrated and disappointed because you need to read these kinds of books?” Sarah asked him curiously.
“Occasionally,” Henry admitted, a little bit taken aback by Sarahʼs blunt questions.
“And do you think then that I, for instance, should rather submit to my Uncle Horatioʼs wish and marry Damian Cox instead of revolting against it?”
Henry wasnʼt sure if he liked the turn the conversation was taking. He hesitated before he continued speaking.
“Seneca did not say that we should always submit to everything that comes our way. Otherwise mankind would have never made an effort to improve certain conditions and therefore would have never made great inventions. The secret lies in finding out what can be changed and what can not be changed, Sarah.”
Sarah frowned and pensively stared into space.
“Seneca was an old man who has been dead for almost two thousand years,” Henry said softly. “I do not think it is a good idea to let his ghost linger in here for too long...”
He kissed Sarah on the temple and from the way she snuggled against his chest and closed her eyes, he came to the conclusion that she had finally decided to stop her questioning and that her mind was at ease again.
He slowly let his gaze wander down the length of her body, trying to get a glimps of her legs and feet. But they were safely hidden under her long skirt. The only parts of her body which allowed some speculations about what Sarah could possibly look like underneath her dress were her hands and her bare neck. He bent his head and began to tenderly kiss her right underneath her earlobe, tickling her with the tip of his tongue. Sarah let out a tiny pleasurable sigh. Henry smiled contentedly, realizing that he had obviously found a secret spot which was more sensitive to his touch than others. Fueled by this thought, he continued his play with the tongue and even bit Sarah slightly in order to elicit even more rapturous sounds from of her.
His approach had the desired effect. Sarah sighed yet again and began to move in his arms until she lustfully rubbed her body against him. Henry was certain that, in her sexual innocence, she had no idea what she evoked in him by doing so. He loosened his embrace around her and instead put his hands on her waist. Then he let his hands ever so slowly wander up the sides of her torso and back down again, his fingertips slightly brushing the base of her breasts whenever he moved past them. After a while, though, he let his fingertips move slightly beyond that base, beyond an invisible borderline of which he didnʼt know how far beyond he would be allowed to go. Right now, however, Sarah didnʼt utter a single word which would have indicated him to stop. After yet another little while, Henryʼs hands half-covered both her breasts. He saw her fingers excitedly clenching her dress, but as she still didnʼt say anything he carefully let his hands slip over her breasts and cupped them. And although Sarah was still fully dressed, and although Henryʼs hands were only allowed to touch the fabric and not her skin, the sensation of massaging her firm flesh almost drove him insane.
He began to kiss her neck again, a little more fiercely this time, and he could feel how he gradually relinquished his hold on reality, how he drifted off into realms that only consisted of sweet sensations and wild fantasies of him making love to Sarah.
“Henry...?” he suddenly heard the girl say. She sounded slightly alarmed.
Hesitantly, Henry stopped kissing her and slowly raised his head to look at her.
She smiled at him bashfully.
“Do you remember this morning when you promised me that you would behave in an exemplary way?”
Sensing that Sarah had begun to feel uncomfortable, Henry immediately backed away and removed his hands.
“I am sorry, Sarah! God, I am so sorry…” he exclaimed, feeling a little mean, because deep inside he wasnʼt sorry at all. Quite to the contrary, he was filled with overboarding joy because he had had the chance to touch Sarah in a way that so far he had only been able to do in his dreams. Still, he was worried that he had come across as quite importunate.
Sarah carefully loosened herself out of his embrace. Then she sat up on the bench and straightened her dress.
“I am terribly dizzy...” she said, a coquettish smile spreading across her lips.
Henry grinned at her.
“So am I.”
She caressed his cheek with her fingers, a contemplative, dreamy look in her eyes. Then she nestled her head on his chest and let him hold her and stroke her hair.
“I love you, Henry,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, Sarah,” he answered.
And for the first time in his life, he really meant it.
* * *
After an hour of dozing in the sun with Sarah, Henry went back to the mansion alone. Having arrived there, he took one of his books, went into the garden and made himself comfortable in the shadow of a tree. He tried hard to concentrate on reading, but as Sarah kept creeping back into his mind and filled it with the wonderful memory of her kisses and her sweet sounds of rapture, he soon put the book aside and instead watched some birds.
Sarah came back from her ride about an hour later; just as they had agreed on in order not to stir any suspicion. Henry secretly watched her as she trotted into the garden on her horse. She elegantly slid off the saddle and handed the reins over to Jeremy, who immediately appeared at the stable doors when he had heard her come. Lost in thoughts, she was walking along the gravel path that led over to the front door of the mansion, and so she didnʼt see
what Henry saw when he turned his gaze away from her and looked at Jeremy again, who was still standing next to the stable: She didnʼt see that the stable boy was staring after her, longingly, his eyes burning with desire—and hurt; hurt because of obvious, unrequited love.
She didnʼt see how Jeremy suddenly looked over to Henry and that his eyes were green with envy.
* * *
“It seems like Damian and I are not your only admirers,” Henry said to Sarah.
It was Friday morning, and for the past hour he had been watching her draw little pictures into her exercise book.
They simply could not bring themselves to do any learning. They were unable to concentrate on anything else but each other. Apart from that, it was far too warm in the classroom again, but they didnʼt want to go into the garden because it would have proved far too difficult for them to pretend that they werenʼt lovers. And as Lord Partridge had demanded that they shouldn't leave the estate, going to the forest or the lake was out of the question, too.
Sarah had suggested another secret encounter at the boathouse in the afternoon, but Henry had dissuaded her from this plan, gathering that it would be more than conspicuous if they both went for walks or rides in the afternoons, even if they did so at different times.
Sarah frowned in disbelief at Henryʼs remark.
“More admirers? You are fooling me,” she mumbled and continued scribbling into her book.
“I am not,” Henry said, keeping a straight face. He had been quite unsure about how to approach the subject ʻJeremyʼ with her, mainly because of fear that she might say something which would give him the feeling that she liked the stable boy in some way. And he had worried that he might not be able to deal with this truth very well as he tended to be a little jealous. Ultimately, though, he had found that this topic was simply unavoidable because Sarah needed to be informed.
She needed to be more careful. They both needed to be more careful.
“I do not want any more admirers.” Sarah chuckled. It was obvious that she did not take all of this as serious as Henry did. “And who is that supposed to be anyway?”
“Jeremy.”
“What?!”
Sarah laughed out loud and couldnʼt stop doing so for quite a while.
“Jeremy?! The Jeremy from the stable? You must be fooling me!”
Sarahʼs reaction gave Henry the assurance that there was absolutely no reason for his jealousy. It did not give him the assurance, though, that Jeremy could turn out to be a threat to their secret bliss.
Sarahʼs laughing quickly ebbed when she saw Henry watching her with a stern and worried look in his eyes.
“How come... that you know?” she stammered uncertainly.
“Do you remember when you came back from riding yesterday?” Henry began. “He shamelessly stared you down as you were walking back to the house. And then he happened to see me watching you.”
There was a crinkle of concern on Sarahʼs forehead. She started to move uneasily on her chair.
“You mean that... that he might know about us?” she asked nervously.
“No, I do not think that he suspects anything. After all, he did not notice that you were looking at me as well, as you were careful enough not to let it show. But as I unfortunately was not that careful with my own glances, he surely knows now that I have an affinity for you. And it was obvious that he did not like me looking at you at all. I guess that he is jealous that I get to spend so much time with you.”
“How can we be even more careful, Henry? All of this secretiveness is already taking up such an incredible effort.”
“I know…“ Henry answered pensively.
“Henry, you... you would not consider making an end to our... liaison because of this permanent danger of being discovered, would you?” Sarahʼs voice was shaking as she desperately tried not to lose her calm and break out in sobs. “I would not be able to face you in the classroom anymore if we were just teacher and student again. It would be unbearable. It would break my heart!”
Henry quickly got up from his chair, walked around the desk and sat right next to Sarah.
“Do you seriously believe that I would be able to bear it?” he whispered, letting his fingers run through her silken hair. “I would never put an end to our love. Trust me. I am in too deep already...”
Sarah flung her arms around his neck and threw herself at him.
“I need you…” Henry heard her voice next to his ear.
“I need you, too,” he whispered. “I need you, too…”
Later, towards the evening hours and after an extremely boring afternoon which he had spent reading as usual, it dawned on Henry how risky the whole situation really was. He did not worry about his work anymore, nor did he care about the money or raising the ladder.
All he really cared about was Sarah.
But what terrified him was the thought that—if they should ever be detected—he would be thrown out of the house in a high arc and would never see her again. He found that his fears that someone could raise suspicion were justified alone by the fact that Sarah had transformed so much. Their love had transformed her. She was not the Sarah anymore that everybody used to know; the little whirlwind, the constantly raging bull. She hardly screamed and cried anymore, and there were no daily pranks and misdemeanors. Instead, Sarah had become much softer, was not as loud and angry towards the others anymore. He guessed that this and the fact that he had never ever touched the hazelnut rod, had to inevitably leave the Partridges pondering what methods he might use to silence her.
And if the Partridges were ever to find out, what would happen to her then? It did not take Henry long to guess what would happen to her: She would marry Damian Cox. But then again, she would marry him anyway.
But would she really?
With mixed feelings, Henry recalled the secret conversation Oscar and he had had the other day. Oscar had been so utterly certain that Henry would come up with a plan soon. But now here he was, still not having the faintest idea what to do.
I can hardly run away with her…
Or could he? What other option did he have? Officially asking Lord Partridge for Sarahʼs hand in marriage was out of the question. In this respect, he did not doubt Oscarʼs words: The Partridges would never allow him to marry her. Quite contrary, they would probably double up with laughter at the fact that he was so cheeky to believe that he could ever stand a chance.
But if that really only leaves stealing her away from them, would I really have the courage to run away with her? he wondered. Could I really do something like that?
From his position at his bedroom window he saw Sarah strolling aimlessly through the garden in the last glow of the evening sunset. She appeared fidgety and restless; as if she too was lost in thoughts and, just like him, worrying what the future might hold for them. Then, as if she had sensed his glances on her again, she looked up to him, and her wistful gaze hit him and made his heart melt and his body ache for her.
Yes, I could... he thought and winked at her.
She did not respond to him in any way, obviously afraid that someone could watch her. But from the dreamy look in her eyes, Henry could see that she had received his message.
Yes, it was truly an enormous amount of trouble he currently found himself in. There would be a lot of lies, secretiveness, and fear.
But somehow he suddenly knew that this girl was worth it.
He watched Sarah carefully peer left and right, and when she realized that she was alone she looked up to the window again and gave him a broad smile.
Chapter 8 – Yearning
Friday afternoon saw the unexpected arrival of a courier. He delivered a telegram from Lord Partridgeʼs nephew Arthur in Norwich. This caused a lot of commotion in the mansion because the telegram message said that Lord Partridgeʼs sister, a certain Lady Margaret Hammersmith, had suffered a stroke. And although she had survived it, she seemed to be in a very poor state.
Lord and Lady Partridge found it indis
pensable to pay Lady Hammersmith a visit, mostly because they were concerned that the doctor who was looking after her was a quack and not treating her properly. Therefore, they quickly called for Oscar whom they had more trust in and who was supposed to join them on their trip to Norwich, as they hoped that he would know better what to do.
Henry was not happy about the news at all. He did feel sympathy for that woman with the stroke although he did not know her, but he dreaded the thought of spending a boring weekend in the mansion without Sarah around. Not even Oscar would be there to cheer him up. Going to London wasnʼt an option either as he had squandered all his money on his previous trip already, and he still wanted to save some money up for buying his mother a new window.
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