Chapter 27

Sarah

"But still she flees him, swifter than the wind." ― Ovid

Sarah screwed a pair of drop pearl earrings into her ears, one of the few items of jewellery left to her from her late mother. She gazed at her reflection in the glass mirror. A pale face with clear grey eyes, a wide forehead and a stubborn mouth stared back at her.

A year was coming to an end and another one was about to begin, one in which she too would begin a new chapter of her life—that of a married woman. Yet most of the excitement she had felt at the prospect of marriage had dissipated. Here, in the privacy of her room, she admitted to herself that the reality of being with Philip Templeton did not accord with the dreams she had harboured of him for so many years. He was still handsome and charming to her eyes, but the mysterious hold he had on her had waned.

She supposed that was true of life. As the old saying went, familiarity breeds contempt, but she had not expected it would happen even before the wedding. In truth, the business of marriage was a far more prosaic undertaking than the romantic imaginings of young women. And she was no chit in the schoolroom but a mature woman of thirty. She should not be surprised, therefore, that the magical appeal of Philip Templeton had disappeared on closer acquaintance. That did not mean their marriage would be an unhappy one. It simply meant that she would have to approach the venture with sober practicality. Yes, for too long, she had let herself be carried away on girlish dreams. Now was the time to put those fanciful dreams to bed. This included any thoughts she may have had of Benjamin.

Tonight, she was staying at Stanton Hall, and had been given this pleasingly furnished bedchamber two doors down from the library. All the other guests were also sojourning here for the night. Philip, she knew, had been put up in a room at the farthest end of the house, well away from hers. She wondered if this was something to do with Ambrose—his brotherly way of protecting her virtue. She laughed to herself. If so, he needn't have worried, for apart from a few embraces that she had endured rather than enjoyed, Philip had been chivalrously correct in his behaviour with her. She stood briskly and patted down the folds of her evening gown. With one last glance at herself, she turned and made her way down the stairs.

Dinner was an elaborate meal of ten glorious courses. Cook had excelled herself and the finest wines had been sent for from Stanton Hall's cellar. Looking dashing in a well cut dinner jacket and elegant neckcloth, Benjamin presided over dinner with the graciousness of a man born to such a life. Not that he was any more dashing and handsome than her own Philip, she hastened to remind herself. Her glance flew to her betrothed. He sat across from her, a twinkle in his eyes, brimming with cheerful bonhomie.

With dinner over, the gathering reconvened in the drawing room, the men having elected to forego their port and cigars rather than leave the two ladies on their own. Soon, the clamour went up for some music and dancing. Ambrose, a skilled pianist, was called upon to play a waltz. Tables and chairs were moved to one side to make space. Benedict offered his hand to Grace while Philip hurried to Sarah's side to ask for a dance. This left Benjamin, as the odd man out, to sit and watch the dancers.

"You shall have the next dance," promised Grace consolingly.

Benjamin shook his head and smiled. "Do not concern yourself with me, Gracie. I am quite content to sit here and admire the view."

Then, Ambrose struck up the first note, and soon, Philip had Sarah in his arms, his hand to the small of her back, his smile adoring. Sarah let him take the lead in the waltz, though she noticed that with the copious wine he had imbibed tonight, he had grown decidedly more amorous than usual. He held her close to his muscular body, his lips hovering an inch from hers, and even sneaked in a quick kiss as he twirled her around the room. When the dance came to an end, he pulled her to him tight and kissed her again, uncaring of the proper decorum. She wished he would not do so.

Observing them, Grace clapped her hands in delight. "So romantic! Look how in love they are," she said to Benedict.

Her husband, however, only had eyes for her. He gazed down lovingly at his wife and pronounced, "Almost as much in love as we are," then kissed her soundly.

All this kissing really was not appropriate conduct. Sarah took an awkward step back from Philip, and as she did so, she spied Benjamin watching them, a pained expression on his face. He hid it quickly with a sardonic smile. "Yes indeed," he remarked. "Romance is in the air tonight. I suggest, Ambrose, you play another waltz for our four lovers."

Ambrose pursed his lips but did as he was bid, starting up another waltz. Philip pulled her towards him again, "Shall we, my dear?" He did not wait for her to answer, leading her into a dance once more.

Afterwards, the couples sat down to catch their breaths and drink champagne from their refilled glasses. As the evening progressed inexorably towards midnight, the company became ever more gay, ever more carefree. Sarah tried to enjoy herself as much as the others around her seemed to be, but a heavy weight had descended into the pit of her stomach. Every so often, she brought her gaze to Benjamin and despite the jovial smile on his face, she could sense that he too was in poor spirits. One time she did so, their gazes met. His eyes burned a deep, rich brown, transmitting a potent message. The moment was over quickly, as Benjamin turned to address a remark to Ambrose.

On the approach of midnight, all present went quiet, listening to the chimes of the clock. Then, there were cheers and applause as the party gathered congratulated one another. "Happy New Year, my darling," purred Philip, pulling her into his embrace. His lips descended on hers, and his tongue probed, demanding entry. Reluctantly, she parted her own lips. He tasted of wine and sin. She let him kiss her, but a moment later, pushed him gently back, conscious of her surroundings. Her eyes searched for Benjamin, but his back was turned to her.

Ambrose came over next, and she went willingly into his arms. "Happy New Year, Sarah," he said. "May it bless you with joy."

"Happy New Year, Ambrose, the best brother in the world." He laughed at that and kissed her cheek.

Embraces were exchanged with Benedict and Grace, and finally, she faced Benjamin. "Happy New Year, dear friend," she murmured.

"Happy New Year, Sarah," he responded gently and pulled her all too briefly into his arms.

After that, the evening wound down very quickly. Grace yawned, pronouncing herself well ready for her bed. Soon, everyone present was bidding the other goodnight and retiring to their beds. Philip drew her to him one more time, smiling fondly into her eyes. "Sweet dreams, darling Sarah," he said, giving her one last kiss. She was relieved when he released and escorted her to the foot of the stairs.

She went up the steps, then along the corridor, past the library to her bedchamber door. In she went and placed her lamp on the dressing table. She sat once again before the glass mirror and carefully removed the drop earrings, placing them inside her small jewellery case. Pin by pin, she released her hair from its knot atop her head and painstakingly brushed its length.

Only then did she stand to divest herself of her evening gown, corset and petticoats. She folded them neatly into her travelling case in readiness for her return home tomorrow, and shook out the grey wool gown she proposed to wear in the morning. Finally, she removed her shift and drawers, and with a shiver, swiftly sponged her body clean with the water she had poured into the wash bowl. Still shivering, she pulled her nightgown over her head and slipped on the thick woollen robe she wore in the evenings to keep herself warm. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was not quite ready for sleep. She would tiptoe in her slippers to the library nearby and find herself something to read.

Picking up the lamp once more, she went to her door and opened it quietly. As she took her first steps towards the library, she felt a sudden gust of chilled air sweep over her and paused, mystified. Looking behind her to the end of the corridor, she identified the source of the chill. The large sash window was wide open. She immediately knew why. She stood outside the library door, uncertain, then came to a decision. Quickly, she returned to her bedchamber, deposited the lamp on the dressing table and picked up her thick woollen shawl, which she wrapped securely around her shoulders. Then, she made her way out again, shutting the door quietly behind her.

At the end of the corridor, she reached the open window and without hesitation, climbed over the sill to stand on the wide ledge outside, letting the moonlight illuminate her path. Taking two very careful steps sideways, she negotiated her way to the flat part of the roof, spying the dark figure seated a few feet from her, his knees tucked into his chest. He did not hear her approach until she had dropped to the seat beside him. "I thought I would find you here," she said nonchalantly.

He raised his head in surprise. "Sarah!" came his startled voice.

She nudged his elbow playfully. "Any meteors?" she enquired.

"None, I'm afraid."

"Hmm," she murmured, looking up to the sky. "However, it is a clear night and I can see several constellations. Do you see that bright red star over there? That is part of the Orion constellation. It forms the shape of a triangle with two other stars. And the bright star below? That is Sirius and over to the left is Procyon."

He looked towards where she was pointing. "Yes, I see them," he whispered.

They sat side by side observing the stars for a long time. "So, my friend," Sarah said eventually. "What brings you out here in the late hours of a winter's night?"

He kept his eyes on the sky. "It is where I go when I want to think," he replied quietly.

"What is it you were thinking of?"

He turned his head abruptly towards her. "You," he said.

"Me?"

"Or rather, the hopelessness of you," he continued. "I came to the decision that nothing I can do will stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life, so I might as well go back home."

She frowned. "You are speaking in riddles, Benjamin."

"Am I? I would think I had spoken quite clearly." He stared meaningfully into her eyes. She trembled, and it was only partly due to the cold. But she was not yet ready for the message that was being conveyed, clear though it was, so she looked away, breathing deeply to calm her agitation. She heard a rustle and then he said, "I have something for you. Here."

He placed an object into her hands. She looked down at it—a small-scale railway carriage, exquisitely built. Picking it up, she examined it as best she could in the moonlight. "You have completed it," she said superfluously.

"Yes." And then into the silent void, he added, "I recall we had an agreement if I should complete my carriage first."

An excitement gripped her chest. "Hmm," she murmured incoherently.

"Time to pay up, Sarah. Give me something to remember you by once I am gone." He pried the miniature carriage gently from her nerveless fingers and tucked it back into his pocket. "Come here," he mumbled gruffly. The flat of his hand was on her back, pulling her towards him. She did not put up any resistance. In fact, as he angled her body against his, her hands flew up to clutch at his shoulders. She felt like she could not speak, only tremble in his arms. "Sarah," he muttered one more time. Then he brought his face close to hers. "Kiss me."

With a mumbled cry, she did just that. Her lips travelled the remaining distance, unerringly finding his. They fit together as if they had been made to be like this. His lips felt warm and soft, and suddenly, she was frantic to know their taste. Without thinking, she parted her lips and swiped her tongue across the seam of his mouth. A moment later, he had taken over the kiss, and in that moment, she was lost.

Like a person starved, he devoured her, but she was just as ravenous, taking every drop of his essence greedily, hungering for more. She was consumed. She could not think, only feel. She felt him, his overpowering need of her, matched only by her need of him. They came at each other's lips like feral creatures lost to civilisation, joining their tongues in an elemental dance of longing and passion. Her hands tore through his hair, needing to hold him close. His own hands were buried in her thick strands, pulling her wildly to him. This was what it felt when two hearts came together in a kiss of deep, desperate love. She knew it as clearly as she knew day from night. This. This. This.

Benjamin moaned against her mouth, "Oh love, oh love, oh my sweet darling love."

"Benjamin," she sobbed.

"Yes, darling. Believe it."

"Benjamin," she said again, reality crashing down around her ears. She tore herself from him, filled with disgust at herself. What was she thinking of? She was promised to another. She stared at him in shock, unable to believe what she had just done.

"Sarah, do not look so," he pleaded. "It is me, the man who loves you, who would go to the ends of the earth for you."

But she was beyond listening. With lips that trembled, she could barely get the words out, "This was wrong. We should not have done this." She came to her feet, and his hands came out quickly to steady her. Once she had gained her balance, high up on the rooftop, she batted his hands away. She faced him and said again, this time her voice stronger, "This was wrong!" She turned to leave, walking on shaky legs towards the window, ignoring his pleas.

"Sarah, don't go. Please listen. That new house in Ohio was built for you. I came to England for you. It is you, always has been you I love."

She continued on her way, climbing over the window sill back into the house. She would not be party to a deception against the man she had agreed to marry. There was right and there was wrong. She heard Benjamin follow her and turned to him, placing a staying hand to his chest. "No, Benjamin. We must not. Goodnight." She hurried away, conscious of his eyes following her, and did not stop until she was in the safety of her own room.