Chapter Seventeen
Sarah stood with her mother not far from the stables as James and her father saw to the horses. This was the day that she and James would go riding together, and her mother was beside herself with anxiety. Although her mother was happy that the two would be spending time together, she had said as much, she also feared the fact that they would be out unchaperoned.
“I do not need to tell you to act in a respectful manner on this outing of yours,” Mrs. Crombly said in a low hiss.
“No, there is no need to remind me,” Sarah sighed. “I am quite capable of restraining my lust for him, though it will be difficult I must admit.”
This brought on a satisfying gasp from her mother. “There is no need for such rebellion, Sarah,” she bristled. “I am your mother, and in being so, it is my responsibility to keep watch over you. In my day, a woman would never go riding with a man who was not her husband, even if they were engaged, without proper escort. I will not have tongues wagging because my daughter has acted in a wanton fashion, with a Duke no less!”
Sarah almost laughed but stopped short when James and her father led the horses from the stables and walked them up to stand in front of the women. Mr. Crombly held Thunder’s reins as James held Molly’s. He gave a stiff bow to Sarah’s mother, who returned it with a small curtsy.
Sarah grimaced at his offered hand with an audible sniff, ready to tell him that she could mount her horse without his aid, but when she saw the anxious look on her mother’s face, she changed her mind.
“Always the gentleman,” she said instead, which only deepened the look on her mother’s face. Sarah wanted to laugh at the absurdness. This is what her parents wanted, so why did the woman insist on complaining. A moment later, Sarah was atop Molly, her leg comfortably secured over the pommel of the saddle as she swiped at her riding skirts in an attempt to remove the lovely feeling of his hand holding hers.
A moment later, James mounted Thunder and accepted the basket Mr. Crombly offered him, which he tied to back of his saddle.
“Now, mind the weather,” Mr. Crombly said. “It looks as if rain is on the way.” Her father had always been obsessed with predicting the weather. Sometimes he guessed correctly, but oftentimes his predictions were quite wrong. Today was more than likely the latter, as several gray clouds floated to the south but the rest of the sky was clear and blue.
“I appreciate the warning,” James replied. “If it becomes fierce, we will return at once.” Mrs. Crombly looked relieved at this promise, though Sarah suspected she was praying the rain would begin downpouring this very moment.
Mildred stood at the doorway to the stables watching the pair go off on their adventure. Sarah waved at her, and the woman gave her a small wave in reply and then wiped at her eyes with her apron. For what reason she would be tearful, Sarah did not understand, but the woman had always been one to give into strange flights of fancy. By the time she and James reached the gates of the property, Sarah had already forgotten the woman’s peculiar actions as they picked up to a trot, the air brushing against her cheeks in a pleasant caress.
“It will be a good day for exploring the countryside,” James said, breaking the silence. Sarah did not mind his idle chatter today, at least not so far, anyway. “The weather is perfect, the air cool. All we need is the rain to stay away for another few hours.”
“So, you believe my father when he says it will rain?” Sarah shook her head at the absurdity of it.
“Most certainly,” James replied. “If he is to be my father-in-law, I should take him at his word, do you not think so?”
“And the day started off so well,” Sarah mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Must you always mention our marriage as if it is a certainty?” Sarah demanded. “You realize you have not won this bet as of yet, am I correct in saying so?”
James laughed. “Well, you certainly keep reminding me at every turn.”
Sarah stared at him, hoping the daggers she threw at him with her eyes would pierce whatever body parts would bring him the most pain. She was sick and tired of the people who should care for her most insisting on making decisions for her.
The horses continued down the faint path, their riders allowing them to take the lead and walk at their own pace. Sarah sat stewing. The day had held such promise and once again this man had ruined any chance of a pleasant day. Although she did not want James to know, the idea of an outing had been exactly what she needed, especially if it was in his company. Well, she would not allow James Foxworth to take away one of the few chances she had to enjoy an adventure, so she pushed her frustration aside and enjoyed the small amount of freedom she had been given.
They came to a stop at the crest of a hill and Sarah looked around, enjoying the rolling hills of green as she always did whenever she ventured from the house. It happened less often as of late, her parents more than likely worried she would run off again. As she stared across the open land, she imagined herself looking out over the ocean, a sea of blue rather than green in all directions as far as the eye could see. In her mind, whales replaced the sheep that grazed in the patches of land and dolphins jumped over the waves rather than the birds that flitted here and there. The vision was so real, she could almost smell the salt in the air and feel the spray of the crashing waves. The only thing that made her imaginary ocean fall short of the magnificence of what she dreamed it would be was the pirate who sat astride his horse next to her.
“I do hope that the rain holds off until we return home,” James said. His obsession with the weather was as exasperating as her father’s.
“If the thought of getting a little wet from a few raindrops worries you, we can seek shelter among a copse of tress,” Sarah said, looking over at him.
His laughter was hearty as he threw his head back, and Sarah was mesmerized by how handsome that laugh was despite her annoyance.
“And here I was worried about you. I feared that since you can no longer ride as you once did that perhaps things like rain would upset you, as well. I would not want poor Molly to tire as we rush for the trees.”
“As I once had?” Sarah gasped, not caring that she was giving into his baiting. She would not allow him to laugh at her expense. “I will have you know that Molly here is faster than ever; even more so than you remember. You would not be able to catch us.”
James snorted, much to Sarah’s ire. “This might be true, but the Sarah Crombly I once knew would not talk of such things; she would show me. You have repeatedly told me that it was all talk of a child, so perhaps you were right.” He never looked at her, and he leaned back in his saddle acting as if they were discussing their choice of dinner options.
Sarah bit at her lip. The gall of the man to speak to her in this way! He had called her a liar twice in the span of a few words, and if he wanted to see how fast Molly could go, Sarah would be happy to show him. Without another word, she clicked her tongue, dug her heel into the horse’s flank, and flicked the reins.
As if she had been waiting for such a command, Molly shot off, her powerful legs as strong as ever as they barreled down the hill. Sarah’s hat flew off her head, the only thing keeping it from it tumbling to the ground the ribbon that had been tied under her chin. However, she cared not. It had been too long since she had raced across the countryside, so free, not caring if her hair blew free behind her. Even during her journey to Weymouth, she had not allowed Molly the excitement of a fast run, and Sarah knew her horse loved it as much as she.
James called after her, and when Sarah turned, she was shocked to see Thunder only a few paces behind her.
“Come on, Molly, show him you are indeed the greatest horse God ever created,” she whispered into the horse’s ear. As if she understood, Molly lowered her head and lengthened her stride, and Sarah glanced over at James, who was lagging behind now. “Good girl!” she shouted at Molly as she brushed her flailing hair from her face.
She lightly pulled at the reins to slow the horse and James trotted up to stand next to her. “Truly, I was mistaken,” he said with a wide grin.
Sarah laughed. “Indeed, you were. Come now, James, we can go even faster!” She focused on the terrain before her, dug her heel in, and Molly took off again, eager to put even a greater distance between her and James’s horse. Perhaps the mare also had a desire to show the stallion of what she was made, much like Sarah wanted to do, because Sarah had never seen Molly run so fast.
When they topped the crest of the next hill, the view that met Sarah took her breath away. Clouds had cast half of the valley in shadow while the other half was highlighted by the sun. James trotted up and gazed in the same direction, the muscles of his arms straining against the coat he wore, his strong legs gripping the sides of the horse, and his hair in disarray, reminding Sarah of a pirate or some other brigand.
“It is breathtaking,” she said. Though her mind was speaking of the valley, her heart was speaking of the man beside her.
“Nothing is more beautiful in all of England, or I dare say, the world.” But he was not looking off over the valley. No, there was no mistaking of what, or whom, he was speaking, for his eyes were on her.
A pleasant flush washed over her, staining her cheeks a bright red, she was sure, if not her whole body. For some time they sat atop their horses, gazing across the vast expanse of land, her annoyance once again muted by the beauty and strength around her. The moment was precious, and having James by her side made it even more so. In less than two weeks’ time she would be required to give him her answer. However, if he were to ask her at this very moment, she would have said yes, devil take the next two weeks.
Yet, the question did not come, and somehow, doubt began to creep in once again. There was still the issue of his winning her in a hand of cards rather than any attempt to woo her to contend with. Not to mention his incessant boring talk of business. Her thoughts and emotions began to clash, much like the clouds showing the valley below her, casting confusion on her soul.
“Do you remember that tree beneath which you told me you saw pirates burying their treasure?” James asked.
She laughed as the memories of that day came back to her. “I do, indeed. It is still some distance yet.” How could she sound so breathless? Perhaps the quick dash had affected her more than she thought.
“If you wish to go back, we may.”
She shook her head and smiled. “No, let us go at our leisure. I do not want to race anymore.” They moved their horses forward. “And I would like to hear another story.”
***
Sarah moved her hand across the trunk of the tree, the surface as rough and old as she remembered. It still had the same branches that provided not only shade but wonderful footholds for them to climb. Now, however, they were much too old for climbing trees, but they could still enjoy the cover from the sun.
“Have you not been here since I left?” James asked as he stepped up to stand beside her. He had tied their horses off near a small creek and they walked the short distance to stand beneath the wide branches.
“I have not,” Sarah replied. “To be honest, I have not ventured far since that day, though I longed to many times.” She removed her hand from the trunk and felt a great sadness wash over her.
“Why is that? Surely you had the opportunity, if not the desire.”
She nodded and seeing a spot that looked comfortable, sat down in the grass. A small cluster of houses could be seen off into the distance, the wild open fields soon ending only to open up to a village a twenty-minute ride from where they now sat.
“It was not the same without you here,” she said, wondering if she was admitting too much.
He walked a few steps away and then sat down, his legs outstretched as he faced her. “I am sorry to hear that I caused you sadness. It seems I have caused you a lot of pain and I hope you know that it was something I never intended.”
She shook her head, wiping at the lone tear that had rolled down her cheek. “When you left as you did, you cannot imagine what I felt.” Her voice was choked and a feeling of frustration at showing such emotion to this man threatened to overtake her.
“Please, tell me.”
“No, I cannot,” she said, fearing she may lose any semblance of calm and becoming a weeping mess if she expressed how she really felt. It was the last thing she needed at a time when she needed to keep her wits about her.
“I will tell you what I felt, then,” he said.
She looked up at him. There was a sadness in his eyes. Regret perhaps? Was it too much to hope he felt repentance for his actions that day — true repentance? “Though I was excited to head to school at that time, I was also heartbroken to leave you. It was difficult knowing that it would be many years before I saw you again.”
More tears threatened to fall, but she blinked them back.
“It was not until sometime later that I realized why I was so sad. You see, it was because I loved you as much then as I do now. Every day away from you tore me apart inside and I counted down the days until my return.”
“Then why did you not write me a letter to inform me that you cared as much as you say?”
“It is not easy for a man to admit his faults,” he said as he picked at the grass. “However, it is time I admit mine. It was pride which clouded my judgment, knowing that the last time I saw you, my actions were that of a fool. It was pride that had me tear up any letters I did attempt to write before sending you a single one. It was not until I was abroad that I realized what a mistake that was. So, I began a plan to win you over, allow you see who I really was.”
His words were comforting, much like the cool breeze blowing around them. Glancing down, Sarah picked a small yellow flower from between a tuft of grass and twirled the stem between her fingers. When she looked back up, he appeared distorted through the mist in her eyes. “I want to believe all this,” she said through a tight throat. “I have dreamed of a man asking for my hand in marriage who would sweep me off my feet with love poems and sonnets, not win it. So you can understand my hesitancy.”
He winced. “That was not my plan at all. The night I came back and spoke to you at the party, you were as defiant as ever. I have to admit, it scared me, and I believed I had lost you forever. I did not want to give you up, so in that moment of chance, when the stakes were high, I made yet another foolish decision that seemed wise at the time but actually quite foolish.”
Sarah dropped the flower, pulled out a kerchief, and dabbed at her eyes. His words had to be true, for she felt them in her heart. However, she already had a plan as to how the man she married would propose to her, and this was not the way it was supposed to go.
There was also another problem that troubled her, one that she had not considered before this moment. What would he think of her if she were to accept his hand in marriage knowing he had won her at a game of cards? What would she think of herself?
Before she could ask, he stood and brushed the grass from his trousers. “Today is not the day to entice you, marry you, and then take it all away later. The man you see before you will be the same man after we are wed. That is, if you decide to carry on with it, of course.”
She nodded and bit at her lip, for once unable to put to words how she was feeling inside, for this was the first time he had expressed his acceptance that whether or not they married would be her choice.
“Allow me to fetch us some water,” he said, his voice soft as he walked over to the horses.
She wanted to stand up, yell out his name, and let him know she had fallen for him, that her heart belonged to him. Instead she waited silently for his return, took the canteen he offered from him, and allowed the water to cool the burning in her throat.
“The story about the men I kissed that night,” she said, handing the container back to him. “I must admit I may have exaggerated a little.”
He took a drink and then wiped at his mouth, a grin on his face. “Then tell me what really happened.”
She laughed. “Well, first of all, I would say none of the men were handsome…” she started to say. And much like when they were younger, Sarah told him of her few days at the Horse and Plough, but this time without as much grandeur and pomp. Both shared in laughter and he asked more questions. Though she debated on whether to tell him everything, she decided to admit to being fooled into letting a few men kiss her hand. Well, perhaps it was more than a few, but that she kept to herself. His reaction was much different from what she had expected. He laughed, but not in a mocking manner of a man who thought less of her for allowing men to treat her thus, but rather the same boyish laugh that she had loved all those years ago.
And much to her surprise, she realized that she still loved that boy, or rather the man he had become, today.