Lying on his bed, lost in gloomy thoughts, he suddenly heard someone knock at the door.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened and Roderick carefully poked his head inside the room.
“Mr. Abbott, I have come to inform you that Lord Partridge would like to see you upstairs in his study without delay.”
Henry froze.
“Are you alright, Mr. Abbott? You are looking rather pale. Will I make you a cup of tea?” Roderick asked, appearing slightly worried.
“No… no… thanks… I am fine… I am already on my way…” Henry stammered.
Roderick nodded quietly, turned around, and softly closed the door behind him.
Henry sat up.
Without delay…
He broke out in cold sweat as the certainty grew inside him that Lord Partridge somehow had found out about his and Sarahʼs love affair. He couldnʼt think of any other reason for the lordʼs sudden urgency to talk to him.
He hoisted himself up from the bed, put on his shirt and gave his hair a cursory brush in order to appear somewhat presentable. Then he left the room and nervously climbed the stairs to the upper floor.
* * *
Henry found Lord Partridge sitting behind a huge desk in the middle of his mahogany panelled study room. Several stuffed animals were lurking on sideboards. One of the walls was adorned by the head of a rather terrifying- looking wild boar, the other by a huge sword.
The Sword of Damocles... Henry thought glumly as he approached the two leather chairs which stood in front of the desk. Sitting in one of the chairs was Sarah. Judging by the troubled expression on her face, Henry gathered that she was likewise terrified. The fact that she was there as well only confirmed his assumption that the little reunion had something to do with their affair. He guessed that otherwise Lord Partridge wouldnʼt have wanted to see them both.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Abbott,” Lord Partridge said, sounding surprisingly friendly. Still, he looked morose, as usual, and slightly worn-out. He lit a cigar and stuck it in his mouth. Then he held the cigar box out to Henry.
“You want one?”
Henry politely declined. His hands were trembling so much that he feared he would let the cigar drop to the floor and burn a hole in the expensive carpet. At the same time he wondered whether the lord would have offered him one of his expensive cigars if he was really that ill-disposed towards him.
Lord Partridge cleared his throat and folded his hands on the table.
“Mr. Abbott, you surely have heard what happened to my sister,” he began unemotionally. But from the nervous twitch of his mouth, Henry could see that this matter affected the lord more than he was willing to admit.
“It is a terrible tragedy and I am genuinely shocked by the news,” Henry said sympathetically, still awaiting a thundering telling-off.
Lord Partridge ignored Henryʼs comment and quickly went on.
“This unexpected situation requires us to go to the North for the weekend. And considering the state my sister is currently finding herself in, I have come to the conclusion that it would be highly unreasonable to bring Sarah along, as I am quite certain that it would prove to be a major threat to my sisterʼs health. The last time Sarah joined my wife and me to visit my dear sister, she threw a dead rat through Margaret's bedroom window.”
Lord Partridge sniffed indignantly at the memory.
Henry threw Sarah an incredulous glance. The girl guiltily lowered her head.
“I must admit that she was only thirteen back then,” Lord Partridge continued. “But given the circumstances, you will understand that I do not want to take any risks this time. The incident back then resulted with my sister having a nervous breakdown; and this although she was not even having any trouble with her health in general at that time. I suppose that you are able to see the point I am trying to make.”
“I clearly am, Lord Partridge,” Henry answered politely, suppressing a little grin at the thought of Lady Hammersmith in her nightgown, just about to go to bed and being surprised by a flying rat.
“Mr. Abbott, you seem to have a strong hold on Sarah. The past days have proved that she somewhat listens to you—what I find highly surprising indeed. But I refrain from questioning it, as long as it has the desired effect to silence her. Therefore, I have decided to take the risk and put the entire responsibility in your hands: I want you to look after Sarah during the time my wife and I are in Norwich. And a big responsibility it is, Mr. Abbott; bear in mind that even Roderick and Emily will not be there to assist you, as they will both be joining us.”
Henry tried hard to pull a serious face. In the meantime, his heart threatened to jump out of his chest with sheer joy. This was quite contrary to all the bad things he had expected, and much more than he would have hoped for in his wildest dreams. He was so happy that his voice quavered with excitement when he began to speak.
“I am quite positive that I will be able to handle this situation.”
Lord Partridge cast him a doubtful glance. He appeared not entirely convinced that Henry was capable of dealing with Sarah all by himself.
“I would like you to know that I deeply regret that this means that you have to sacrifice your free weekend. I hope you have not made any other plans,” Lord Partridge said.
“Well...” Henry frowned as if he first had to consider this, although the only plan he had had in mind was to empty the wine stock in the cellar and hang on to gloomy thoughts. “Thinking about it, I do not really have any plans which could not be postponed to a later date.”
Lord Partridge took a puff on his cigar.
“A word of warning, though: The last time a governess looked after Sarah, the girl went for a ride and stayed away all night. She only came back the next morning, soaking wet because she had been surprised by the most horrible thunderstorm in Englandʼs history. And the governess suffered from a terrible bronchitis after that because she had been searching for Sarah in the woods for hours, along with Jeremy and Angus. I do not want anything like this to happen again; no brazen acts, no matter if it rains or not.”
“No brazen acts, of course, Lord Partridge,” Henry answered firmly.
“Good man.” Lord Partridge let out a sigh of heartfelt relief.
Sarah, who had been quietly listening, suddenly stomped her foot on the ground.
“I do not need a caretaker,” she snapped.
It was evident to Henry that she just acted the brat again in order to distract her uncle from her true feelings; namely, utter delight at the thought of Henry and her spending the entire weekend together—on her uncleʼs orders.
Lord Partridge appeared seriously stressed out at her remark. Henry guessed that the issue with his sister truly got to him; just as the commotion in the factory with his employees going on the warpath. The latter had even made it on the front page of the regional newspaper. For a fleeting moment, Henry almost felt regret for deceiving Lord Partridge. But then he recalled his earlier remark with the hazelnut rod and thought about the poor exploited workers in the factory, and this immediately scattered all of Henryʼs feelings of remorse.
“You are an awful nuisance, Sarah,” Lord Partridge moaned. “Now please go, the two of you. I have an awful lot of things to attend to before we will leave tomorrow.”
Without addressing another word to them, Lord Partridge began to scribble something in his agenda and hardly noticed it when Henry and Sarah quietly rose from their chairs and left. When they had closed the door to Lord Partridgeʼs study behind them, Henry gave Sarahʼs hand a gentle squeeze. Their eyes fused and they happily smiled at each other.
There simply was no need for words.
* * *
On Saturday morning, the heat was blistering. There was no breeze which would have brought some cooling, no cloud which would have promised any rain. It was just hot.
Summer had arrived.
Henry was standing next to the window where he had placed the mirror and was shaving and enjoying the
warmth of the sun on his skin. Contrary to the other inhabitants of the house, he was in no hurry at all. The excitement which usually accompanied the departures of the Partridges filled every single room except his own. He whistled a little tune as he let the shaving knife carefully slide along his cheek and down the neck. In the meantime, excited chatter and the clatter of many busy feet filled the staircase as the butler and Emily were carrying suitcases and boxes down to the coach. Lady Partridge was busy shouting orders to everyone who crossed her way, and Angus, the coach driver, was pulling his usual grumpy face.
But Henry felt entirely at ease and unmoved by it all, knowing that he would spend the following two days with his girl. That was all that mattered.
It amused him how easily he referred to Sarah as ʻhis girl;ʼ as if she indeed was already destined to be with him forever.
When the Partridges finally assembled outside in the yard, ready to leave, Henry went downstairs to say goodbye. He found Sarah lingering in the frame of the entrance door, absent-mindedly examining her fingernails and appearing bored. Henry walked past her, only mumbling a quick ʻgood morningʼ in a busy and unsuspicious manner, when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around and saw that it was Oscar, who had arrived about half an hour ago and was now ready to join the Partridges on their trip.
“Oscar, what a pleasure to see you!” Henry exclaimed and meant it. He immediately felt positively infected by Oscarʼs good moods and quickly forgave him that he had interfered with Henryʼs love life.
Oscar turned to Sarah, gently lifted her chin with his fingers and examined her face with admiring looks as if she was an adorable painting.
“You look marvelous this morning, young Lady.”
Sarah smiled fondly at him and did not back away at his touch; a sure sign, as Henry found, that Oscar was in fact a secret close confidant to her. Henry almost felt a little bit jealous because of this, although Oscar was only Sarahʼs uncle and therefore did not represent any competition.
Lord and Lady Partridge appeared in the entrance hall and Sarah, Henry and Oscar took a step aside to let them pass on their way to the coach. The lordship was accompanied by their personal entourage, consisting of Roderick and Emily who looked quite miserable after having carried the entire luggage from the top floors downstairs. After all, it had only been a week ago that they had carried everything upstairs when they had all come back from Bournemouth.
Lord Partridge turned towards Henry, taking up position in front of him. Henry straightened his back and stood for attention.
“Mr. Abbott, from now on the responsibility is yours alone,” the lord said. “I trust that this weekend will pass without any scandals which the whole of County Surrey will be talking about on Monday morning.”
“Rest assured that your daughter is in best hands when she is with me,” Henry answered firmly.
Lord Partridge nodded imperceptibly and cast Henry a slightly doubtful glance.
Finally, the lord and the lady climbed in the coach, followed by Emily and Roderick.
“Oscar, are you not coming?” Lady Partridge called over to her brother, who was still standing next to Henry at the door.
“I am, Priscilla, I am,” the doctor called back. “I just want to say goodbye to Sarah and Mr. Abbott.”
And with these words he turned to Henry again and reached out to shake his hand.
“Goodbye, Mr. Abbott, and good luck!” he said loudly and merrily for everyone to hear before suddenly lowering his voice to a whisper.
“Be careful, the walls have eyes…” he mumbled, a roguish smile on his lips. He planted a hasty kiss on Sarahʼs cheek, hurried over to the coach where the others were already waiting for him, and climbed inside. Then the vehicle began to move, leaving Henry and Sarah behind.
The two were standing at the door, quietly looking after the coach until it disappeared beyond the main gates of the estate.
“And off they are...” Sarah said cheerfully.
“Off they are...” Henry repeated after her.
And then, a mischievous grin on their lips, they turned around and went back into the house.
* * *
Inside it was pleasantly cool. It was strangely quiet too, except for the distant sounds of rattling dishes coming from Thelmaʼs kitchen.
“And now?” Henry asked when they had closed the main door.
“Well, Mr. Abbott,” Sarah replied coquettishly, “you are my personal caretaker. What plans do you have in mind?”
Henry raised his hand and let his fingers gently run along the girlʼs cheek.
“I am planning to make this weekend the most wonderful one that you have ever had in your entire life,” he whispered. And with an impish smile on his lips, he slowly bent to kiss her.
“We still must be careful, Henry,” Sarah whispered, slightly backing away. “Oscar is right. We are not entirely safe. Thelma and her girls are downstairs…”
Henry looked at Sarah yearningly as she loosened herself out of his embrace and light-footedly crossed the entrance hall, every now and then throwing teasing glances over her shoulder. A silly grin on his face, Henry quickly follow her as she danced away from him and into the library.
Having arrived there, he saw Sarah walking over to the window and opening it. He was staring at her mesmerized as she began to slowly pull out the pins from her hair. One after the other she took them out, destroying Emilyʼs laborious work, until her curls fell loosely over her shoulders, inviting the slight breeze which came through the window to play with them.
And suddenly Henry didnʼt know at all how to proceed. He felt a nauseating nervousness rising in his stomach. Now that all the outer hindrances had so unexpectedly disappeared and there was nothing else to concentrate on anymore but Sarah, he suddenly felt entirely at a loss and didnʼt know how to behave as he was afraid to make a mistake.
“Henry,” Sarah said softly and turned around to face him. Henry could sense that she was nervous. “Would you play that tune for me again? The one that you played when we met here a couple of nights ago.”
Henry welcomed the idea of filling the embarrassing silence which threatened to arise with music.
“I will gladly do so. It is your song anyway,” he said. Then he walked over to the piano and lifted the fallboard.
Sarah looked at him puzzled.
“My song?” she asked, sitting down on a chair next to the window.
“Sarahʼs Dream. That is its title. I named it after you.” Henry answered.
“No one has ever written a song for me,” Sarah mumbled, appearing confused.
“Well, it is high time then,” Henry said merrily. Then he started to play.
He got the impression that the song sounded so much nicer now than on the night he had played it for the first time. Back then, it had only been a random arrangement of tunes, not meant to be a real piece of music, hardly meant to even have a title. The latter had only come to his mind seemingly by accident.
This time it was different. This time he was fully aware that the song was dedicated to Sarah. And so it was filled with all the love that he had developed for the girl within the past days; filled with all the emotions she evoked in him.
Eventually, the song came to an end.
Henry looked over to Sarah. She had put her feet up on the chair which she was sitting on, her arms wrapped around her knees, a melancholic expression on her face.
“Are you alright?” he asked uncertainly.
Sarah nodded and hesitantly turned her head towards him. Henry noticed that her eyes were slightly moist.
“It was wonderful,” she whispered.
“It is as wonderful as you, Sarah, because it is inspired by you.”
Sarah frowned and let her empty gaze wander out of the window.
“Henry, I am a nasty girl that does not know how to behave. I will never fit in anywhere, and most people despise me. I honestly believe that I am not good enough for this world and that I do not deserve a song like th
is...”
Overwhelmed by an enormous amount of pity for the girl who looked so sad and tantalized that it almost broke his heart, Henry immediately got up from his chair and walked over to Sarah.
“Donʼt you ever believe anything like that,” he whispered, taking Sarah's face into his hands.
Sarah sadly lowered her head. Henry raised her chin with his fingers to make her look at him again.
“You know,” he began carefully, caressing her cheek with his thumb, “when we are very young and something cruel happens to us, something we can not fathom such as the tragic death of someone dear to us, then our mind begins to play little tricks on us, making us believe that we are guilty and inadequate, and that we deserve that others are treating us in a bad way.”
Henry & Sarah Page 19
