Chapter Eighteen
It was early morning, the sun just rising above the horizon, when Sarah gazed out the window of her bedroom, lovely rays highlighting the garden for her personal enjoyment. Four days since she and James had gone riding had passed by so quickly, Sarah wondered if she had somehow transcended time. The end of the thirty days would soon be here, and to Sarah’s utter amazement, her cynical stance had been replaced with a light and happy heart which told her he would win this wager.
She hoped he would come by this day to see her again. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to be separated from him, and oftentimes she found herself thinking about him when she least expected it. They had not necessarily made plans, but each time they were together became even more special to her. What made this day special was that she was ready to tell him that she would accept his hand in marriage when the thirty days had completed.
Her mind went to that moment when she would tell him, and in her mind’s eyes she saw his initial look of utter shock that he had become worthy of her hand and he would stand with his mouth open, his eyes wide, and without words to express his happiness. Then that shock would change to elation, and he would pick her up and spin her around as he laughed and sang.
As her mind performed the images in her head, she danced around the room with her imaginary James, the man who had finally come to realize that she was not just a conquest, but a woman with a heart, mind, and soul—a woman that no man could never possess.
Their wedding would be so grand that it would be spoken of for years to come. Everyone who was anyone would be there, wishing the new couple good will and silently envying their love. When the last guest had left, she would allow him to pull her into his arms and their kiss would be extraordinary. The thought of that kiss sent a tingling down her spine and heat to her face. She had seen her parents share a kiss once when she was younger and was intrigued by the notion of two people pressing their lips together. At one point, she had kissed her arm just to see what it would feel like to kiss someone. However, her parents seemed to enjoy the act, so it had to be better than kissing one’s arm. If it was enjoyable, she would allow James one kiss per day.
She sighed and walked back to the window, squinting at the rays now making their way up the side of the house. As she looked down, a man she did not know hurried down the path. Although she caught a glimpse of his face, she did not recognize him and suspected he was there looking for a position, as so often happened.
Shaking the man from her thoughts, she allowed her mind to return to James. They would ride together, just as James promised, and she envisioned a ride much like the one they took recently. He had also told her she could make any changes she desired to Buckthorn House. Although there were a few changes she would like to make, in all honesty, the house was almost perfect the way it was. Lady Foxworth certainly had a tasteful touch.
Sarah gasped. “Lady Foxworth. I will be the new Lady Foxworth!” She squealed in excitement at the idea of she, Sarah Crombly, becoming a Lady. How envious her friends would be!
Living with James would certainly pose a challenge. He had plenty of faults and to list them all would take days. However, after she had had the opportunity to help him see the changes he needed to make—and she would show divine patience as he made each of those changes—he would grow into the best man he could be.
He was a man befitting of her. The ocean had been right after all.
The bedroom door opened and Mrs. Crombly walked in, her eyes wide as if in shock. “You must dress quickly,” she shouted as she grabbed Sarah’s hand and practically dragged her to her wardrobe. “The Lady Dowager and James are on their way!”
“The Lady Dowager here?” Sarah gasped. “But I thought she was not due back for at least another week!”
“There is no time to speculate,” her mother said, turning towards her. “Smile. Do you not realize they are coming so the engagement can be announced!”
The realization hit Sarah as if the walls of Buckthorn House had crashed down upon her, causing her anger to boil. After all his words of promise, James was determining the outcome of her life. Purportedly it was to be her decision at the end of the thirty days, a wager between the two of them on the beach in Weymouth. Yet, once again, he had taken that from her. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks as her previous dreams of their wonderful life together disintegrated into dust.
“No need to cry from happiness, my love,” her mother said, hurrying to the door. “I will send Anne in to help you dress.”
Before Sarah could speak, her mother was gone. Why was it that everyone seemed to make her decisions for her? The thought played in her mind as Anne came in to help her dress while Sarah brooded.
“Once you are dressed, I will do something wonderful with your hair, something befitting a lady.”
Sarah groaned.
***
“There we are,” Anne said as she placed a final pin in Sarah’s hair. “Don’t you look beautiful?”
Sarah looked at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was a blue muslin, the material a gift from her father upon his return trip from London a few months prior. She let her eyes soak in the dress and then back to where her hair was piled on top of her head and tied off with a matching blue ribbon. Though a bit old-fashioned, it was well-done, so Sarah made no complaints.
The door opened and her mother rushed in, her voice excited. “The Dowager Duchess is already coming up the drive!” she said in a breathless voice. “Do not keep her waiting.”
Sarah let out a sigh. “She will be fine, Mother. I honestly doubt a few extra minutes will cause any undue stress.”
Mrs. Crombly gave Anne a sharp nod, and once Anne closed the door behind her to leave the two women alone, she walked up behind Sarah. “I do not know what has become of you lately. One minute you are walking as though you are the happiest woman in England and the next you are full of defiance.”
Sarah tried to keep her voice level. “I guess I am so overcome with joy that I had to spend two hours readying myself to meet a woman who shows up as she pleases. If I were to do the same, would I not be chastised?” All attempts at keeping her anger from her words failed miserably.
Her mother placed her hands on Sarah’s shoulder, and Sarah looked up at the woman’s reflection. “Your life is changing very quickly and will continue to do so until you wed. But it will not stop there. Great expectations put upon you every day after, be it the Dowager Duchess coming to visit unannounced or Lord Foxworth inviting important guests to dinner without notice. He is a Duke, and you are going to marry him, which will make you a Duchess. This should make you excited!” The ardent lilt in her voice ground at Sarah’s nerves. Everyone felt they knew what would, and should, make her happy, but not one person asked her opinion on that which would make her happy.
Sarah went to say as much, but her mother cut her off. “Now, whatever may be bothering you, leave it behind in this room. It is time for you to present yourself to the Dowager Duchess for her approval.” Her mother’s voice brooked no argument, and Sarah knew when no amount of reasoning would change her mother’s mind, and that time was now.
Sarah stood and looked herself over in the mirror one last time. Present herself for her approval? Then by all means she would. “I will be there momentarily.” She forced a pleasantness to her voice that was far from how she felt.
Her mother narrowed her eyes, but then gave her a nod. “Do not dawdle.” Then she was gone.
The corner of Sarah’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. Her parents, James, and even his mother thought they all would rule her life, from her appearance to who she would marry. They were very much mistaken.
“If I am to make an appearance for their approval, then by all means, I will.”
***
Sarah heard a polite laugh as she neared the sitting room. She held her breath as she strained to listen to the conversation just outside the door.
“I must admit,” a voice Sarah assumed belonged to the Dowager Duchess said, “I was quite surprised when James told me the news last night. I thought he would have given it more thought before rushing into making such a rash decision, especially one which he would have to live with for the rest of his life.”
Sarah clenched her fist as she wondered if her anger was strong enough to grab James and choke him right there and then in front of everyone. How dare he tell his mother that he was going to marry Sarah. She had not given him an answer as of yet. He could have at least waited until she came down to join them before sharing the news that really was not yet news.
Letting out a sigh of frustration, Sarah stepped around the corner and entered the room. A satisfying gasp came from both women, as well as a mumbling of words from her father. James held his teacup just inches from his lips, his eyes wide with shock, as he stared at her.
“Sarah!” Mrs. Crombly cried, her voice panicked. “What on Earth are you wearing?” She swiped at the tea that had sloshed over the side of her cup and landed on her gown.
“My favorite dress,” Sarah said nonchalantly as she grabbed the sides of the skirt and lowered herself into a curtsy. She had changed into the common dress Alice had given to her on her ride to Weymouth. It still pulled tight around her bosom, the laces straining against the material. Her hair, which had been so beautifully pinned only moments before, now hung loose around her face. On her feet were her riding boots instead of slippers.
She turned to the Dowager Duchess and curtsied again, this time dropping so low that her breasts almost popped out. “I have looked so forward to seeing you again, Your Grace. I have to say, even after all these years, you have not changed one bit.”
The Dowager Duchess was around the age of sixty with dark hair coated in silver and enough wrinkles on her face to place her closer to her late seventies. She sat staring at Sarah, her eyes wide and her mouth agape, before she realized her reaction. “It seems you have,” she whispered, her eyes moving up and down Sarah as she took a sip of her tea, which sloshed around the cup as the woman’s hand shook.
Mrs. Crombly rose from her chair, grabbed Sarah by the arm, and dragged her out into the hall without a word to anyone else. Once there, she did not release Sarah, but instead clamped down harder until Sarah winced. “You have shamed your father and me enough to last us three lifetimes!” she hissed in an attempt to yell at her daughter but not be heard by her guests. “There is no time, or reason at this point, for you to change. I want you to pull your hair from your face and go in that room and conduct yourself in the manner of which you were raised, or so help me, you will not sit down for a week.” When Sarah gave her mother her best ‘I’d like to see you try’ look, her mother added, “And don’t believe for even a single second that I will not see that your father takes you over his knee and I personally tan your hide! Do I make myself clear?”
Sarah’s eyes had to be covering her entire face by the time her mother finished her tirade. She nodded and then clamped her mouth shut when she realized it was hanging open. Then she followed her mother back into the room. Taking a seat next to her father, which was across from James, she looked up at the man who held her ire.
“What’s wrong?” he mouthed.
“You,” she whispered a little louder than she had hoped, for all eyes were drawn to her. Not that they probably had left me in the first place, she mused silently.
Her father cleared his throat. “What was that, dear?” he asked.
“I would like a cup of tea, please,” Sarah said. Then an idea came to her and she turned to a footman who stood behind him. “I could use a pint of ale, but I suppose tea will have to do.”
Her mother gasped and the Dowager Duchess shook her head. James let out a groan. Perfect.
“So, you are to marry my son,” the Dowager Duchess said, her eyes still looking Sarah up and down with disapproval.
“She is,” Mrs. Crombly answered for Sarah. “You must forgive her appearance, she has been unwell since yesterday, have you not, my dear?” Her mother gave her a pointed look, the narrow eyes telling Sarah she had best answer appropriately or she would receive the promised lashing.
However, Sarah cared not. Let them beat her until she bled. “Yes, it is true. I have been ill.” She took a sip of the tea that was handed to her. “It might have been the brandy and late-night game of cards last night that brought on this illness.” She shrugged. “But who knows?” In her mind, she pictured the patrons of the Horse and Plough and mimicked their behavior, slurping her tea so loudly her father’s face turned a bright crimson and her mother looked absolutely apoplectic.
“Sarah! That is enough of this foolish attitude!” her father shouted. He did not even bother removing her from the room as her mother had.
“I must say, I do not remember Sarah being this way as a child,” the Dowager Duchess said. “Has she suffered from some malady that made her lose her senses? I do wonder if she is fit to marry my James.”
“It’s all right, love,” Sarah said, moving into her sailor talk. “I will be able to produce many children for him. Is that not right, James my love?” She pushed her chest out to emphasize her breasts more just as Ingrid had taught her.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hand, his fingers pinching his nose between the eyes as he leaned on the arm of the chair.
His mother set her teacup down with a clink, the contents sloshing over the sides. She stood and glared down at the Crombly family. “I must say, I do not like this at all. Proper manners will need to be instilled in her before she is worthy to marry my son!” She turned to James. “What if she has gone mad? She could sire mad children!”
Much to Sarah’s irritation, James said nothing, but instead sat looking embarrassed, more worried about himself than how his mother was treating the woman he claimed to love. A tear came to her eye as she realized that her hero was not there to save her after all. This semblance of a man was what she had originally thought—a coward and a fraud. She set her teacup down, stood and faced the Dowager Duchess.
“I would recommend you teach your son to be a gentleman first. Then perhaps he will find a woman more suitable to your liking.” Without waiting for a response, Sarah turned and stomped to the door. The last thing she saw was James acting as if he were going to speak. However, it was much too late. He had his chances to win her heart, and he almost had. But his lack of honoring her when she needed him most was the last straw. Any chances of them marrying were now gone.
Before leaving, Sarah turned and shot James a glare. “And to you, you have broken my heart once again. This was supposed to be something we announced together. The deal is off! And the wedding is off!” Tears ran down her face, and ignoring her parents’ protests, she ran out of the house and hurried down the garden path. She did not know where she was going, but she knew only one thing. Molly would take her there.