Captives' Charade (36 page)

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Authors: Susannah Merrill

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and entryways. Being

A portrait of Stewart’s mother graced the formal parlor and Peggy smiled as Sarah studied the beautiful woman, regal and self-possessed, but with a faint twinkle in her dark eyes, as if she had found much joy and happiness in her life.

“Isn’t she wonderful to look at?” Peggy remarked. “She was always so strong and capable.”

“It seems to have been inherited,” Sarah told her. “You and your brother both strike me that way.”

Peggyeyedher,lookingasifshebadly wished to speak. “What is it, Peggy?” Sarah finally felt forced to ask, uncomfortable at being the target of her insinuating stare.

“You don’t talk much about him. Stewart, I mean,” and immediately Sarah stiffened. “I just wondered why. I mean, it’s none of my business – well, it is in a way. He’s my brother and I love to talk about him. And I’ve wanted to, but I can tell that you are not comfortable with the subject. And it’s quite all right with me, but I just thought .... Well, Sarah, I just feel so close to you, and it’s difficult for me to watch what I say around members of my family .... And ... Oh, my word. I’m so sorry. Sarah, you’re crying!”

And she most certainly was. Crying as she had been unwilling to do since that last night she and Stewart had been together in Charleston. Crying for being such a fool, such a silly, lovesick fool, having burned all her chances for any happiness by reaching too far into the fires of her passion and his. Standing here in his home, being surrounded by his things, and all these wonderful people past and present who could never, ever be a part of her future .... It had become too much to bear in silence.

Sarahwouldhavecollapsedfromhersobs had it not been for Peggy’s supporting arms moving her to the settee beneath her mother’s beautiful, satisfied face. Her grief was an ugly, jealous thing. For the Chamberlain women had it all. But Sarah could have none.

“I-I’m so ... sorry,” Sarah finally managed to gasp, trying desperately to recapture her poise. “I-I don’t know ....”

“Shh, it’s all right,” Peggy soothed, patting Sarah’s quivering shoulder. “Don’t talk until you’re ready. Here, use my handkerchief. There, there. Go ahead. Blow your nose. Come now. Everything will be all right.”

“Iambeingsucha child,” Sarah wailed. “And ... Oh my God. What if Mrs. Hubbard sees me?”

“Don’t worry about her,” Peggy insisted. “She’s very discreet. She’s closed the doors for us, see? We have absolute privacy so we can talk.” Seeing Sarah’s resistance, Peggy continued, “Sarah, you must talk to someone. I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

“No, you can’t” Sarah moaned. “No you can’t. Nobody can help me. I’ve made such a mull of everything.”

But finally, with Peggy’s gentle coaxing, Sarah told her. She began with the night she and Stewart met, at her sister’s birthday ball, and how despite her denials, she had been attracted to him. And then when she assumed her feelings were under control, her father had named Stewart her sponsor on the trip to America. And then the pirate hijacking and the subsequent charade. Sarah told how their lives had depended on the well-played game...until it was no longer a game; she realized she’d fallen irreversibly in love with him. And how to avoid that truth, she’d insisted that they resume their former roles, only to see him rush into the arms of his beautiful lady-love.

Peggy listened attentively, but clearly she was puzzled by Sarah’s conclusions. “Why are you so sure he doesn’t care for you?” she probed. “It’s not as if he expected or asked Felicia to come to America. She’s his ‘friend,’ Sarah, not his love, if you know what I mean,” she insisted but wasn’t sure Sarah caught her meaning.

“Sarah, I don’t wish to be indelicate, but it’s not all that unusual – or meaningful – that an unmarried man like Stewart have ‘friendships’ with widows like Lady Felicia. Aside from the ‘comforts’ she might offer, she is a very powerful and connected woman of the ton. I am quite sure she has given him the introductions he’s needed to be as successful as he is.”

As Peggy did not know of the ‘comforts’ she herself had provided Stewart, her observations sent Sarah into another outburst of tears and weeping. “There, there, sweet,” Peggy crooned, as the younger woman sobbed against her shoulder. “You are much too fine to let all of this overwhelm you. I wager that Stewart cares for you much more than you know.”

“No,” Sarah hiccupped, “you’re wrong. You see things that aren’t there because you’re fond of me. But I tell you, I mean nothing to Stewart and I have got to stop dangling after him. It’s making me sick,” she choked.

Something was amiss, Peggy thought silently. Sarah’s overwhelming reaction was violent to say the least. Why? And then it dawned. Her pretty face filled with concern, Peggy clutched Sarah’s trembling hands and forced her to match her gaze. “Sarah,” she whispered determinedly, “when you and Stewart were on the island, did he ... were you ... did you become ... lovers?”

For a brief second, Sarah thought she could dissemble. But Peggy wasn’t looking into her eyes; she was peering into her heart, and there was no way the truth could hide there. New tears shored up in Sarah’s crystal blue eyes as the two women stared solemnly at each other. Peggy had her answer. “Oh, my dear ....” she uttered as one who’d been forced to breathe.

Sarah jerked away, flinging herself to a standing position, her back to the woman. “I have been such a fool,” she choked, clutching her arms about her thin shoulders ... “and I am so ashamed ....”

“Sarah,” Peggy interjected sharply, coming to her side. “Do not do this to yourself. For God’s sake, don’t you think Stewart bears the responsibility?”

“No,”shewhirledaround.“No!Ibehavedlike a wanton. I let myself pretend our charade was true because that is what I wanted it to be. But he never forgot ... He never said ....” she gasped, the memories flooding her beleaguered brain. His fiery kisses, his all-consuming passion, his need of her that was clearly transitory. He had never made the mistake of calling it love. Why had she been so willing to pretend?

“Sarah, you’re as pale as a ghost,” Peggy announced. “Please sit down before you faint.” As she led Sarah back to the settee, she murmured, “You haven’t been well since we met, have you Sarah? Probably not since the ordeal.”

“I’vebroughtitallonmyself,”shecroaked, closing her eyes in a desperate attempt to quell the queasiness in her stomach. “I have missed him so, and then I hate myself for even thinking of him. I have felt so guilty. Perhaps now that I have confided in you, I can begin to ... begin to ... oh, Peggy, I don’t want to begin anything. I just want to end it all,” she sobbed.

“No, please Sarah, don’t talk that way,”

Peggy urged soothingly, though underneath she was boiling mad, angrier than she’d ever been at the brother who exuded charm as easily as others breathe. One look at this young girl and he should have realized she’d take nothing he offered lightly.

“I have to leave,” Sarah was saying and Peggy snapped back to attention.

 

“Leave? What are you talking about?”

“N-now that you know, I couldn’t possibly stay here. I-I’m not the sort of person who should ....”

“Balderdash!”Peggycuthero ff,furious. “What in the world are you talking about? You think you’re the first woman who’s ever loved and been compromised?” Seeing so clearly the pain in Sarah’s face, Peggy knew she believed it totally. “You are not! Darling, no one could ever judge you for what happened. You fell in love with him, and my God, you were forced to live as husband and wife!”

“’Tisnoexcuse,”Sarahwailed,kneadingher delicate hands in frustration. “I knew it was hopeless, that there was not a future for us. And I didn’t care. I even thought I could deal with it, but being here, in his home, with his family ... and not belonging ... I just couldn’t fight it anymore. But,” she added hastily, seeing Peggy’s pitying look, “I can and I will. But it is only possible if I leave soon – now, before I ever have to face him again.”

“Sarah,” Peggy spoke gently. “Did you ever think that perhaps a greater bond might have been forged between you two than you realize?” Seeing her puzzled look, Peggy drew a deep breath and plunged. “Sarah, might you be – with child?”

“No.” It was a short, nearly silent rejoinder, filled with uncertainty. And then Sarah rose as if the settee had caught fire. “No!” She stared at the older woman for an eternity, as if her eyes alone could make the truth.

Quietly, Peggy persisted, seeking the evidence to support her surmise. “You’ve been ill, Sarah.”

“Lovesick ... and guilty,” Sarah snapped back.

 

“You seemed to have gained weight recently,” Peggy quietly persisted.

 

“Ihavebeenapamperedguest–andonly regained the weight I’d lost before.”

 

“Your time, Sarah. The last ...?”

“Not since I left home. But,” she hastened, on the verge of hysteria, “I was seasick, the ordeal, the traveling, so many reasons ....”

“Oh, Sarah,” how can I tell you this?” Peggy moaned, rubbing her forehead. “The other day, Mrs. Leland helped you with your bath, remember? She asked me later if you were married. And when I said, ‘Of course not,’ she closed up and would not say why she’d asked the question. But now it makes sense, Sarah. She knows how a woman’s body changes when she’s in a family way.”

“Oh ... oh God,” Sarah whispered, frightened and humiliated. The effects of this revelation were too much to bear. They knew. They all knew what a fool she’d been and now every member of Stewart’s family and household probably thought she was nothing but a bit of muslin, worthy of nothing more than their pity and disgust.

Fromfaro ff,Sarahheardhernamebeing called, but she could not seem to answer. All she wanted was to give way to the comforting darkness that was beginning to overtake her. The last thing she remembered was a distant scream as she limply slumped to the floor.
CHAPTER 35

The fresh air, though brisk, held unmistakably the promise of a lovely spring. The rolling hills surrounding the wide, low farmhouse and stables displayed observable hints of the green hue that would wash the meadow soon. Sarah walked contentedly along the rough fence boards encompassing the grazing lands of the country estate that Stewart had once confessed to her was his most prized possession.

Shadingherluminousblueeyes,Sarah peered off to the west at the valley she had come to America to inspect for her father. There was no doubt the Tremont family would own the property. Much as she would have preferred not to do business with Stewart Chamberlain, the land was choice and with Stewart purchasing half the parcel to extend his farm, it would make a good investment for both families. Besides, it was a heady sensation to claim ownership to such fertile lands in the Colonies-turned-country. Sarah was eager to take title on behalf of her father, thinking of the pleasure she’d had describing in her last of the pleasure she’d had describing in her last acre parcel that stretched 10 miles south and west.

With a bittersweet sigh, Sarah began her return to the farmhouse where a stout, light-haired woman was making preparations to hang wet laundry on a line that stretched from the long back porch to a post stuck in the middle of the side yard.

“Vell, you look pleased vis yourself today, liebling,” the woman spoke as Sarah plodded up the plank steps in her borrowed boots that were sizes too big for her slender feet.

“You can just feel how lovely it’s going to be soon, can’t you, Elsa?”

“Ja, ja. Spring comes late to these meadows but ven it arrives, it iss so beautiful,” the German woman smiled, her breath shortened by her labors to air the wash. Her crinkling pale blue eyes and rosy cheeks gave way to a full-mouthed grin as she glanced at the younger woman. “And how iss our Kinderlein today?”

Sarah smiled, stroking her rounded girth hidden beneath the somber woolen duster she used for chores. “Our baby is fine today, Elsa. Very active this morning.”

“Dat’s gut. You have a strong one in dere.”

“That she is, Elsa,” Sarah agreed, contemplating the trembling mound beneath her slender hand. Leaning against a corner post, she sighed contentedly.

Her pregnancy, now in its sixth month, was a good one after the initial weeks of queasiness and unhappiness. She had long since resigned herself to her fate, and now accepted it with a growing sense of anticipation. No longer did she worry about the future. Knowing she had survived so much gave her strength to look ahead with a calmness that sometimes surprised her.

This place had a lot to do with her feelings of well-being. And these people, she added, watching Elsa briskly go about her chores. Elsa and Johann Kemper were the caretakers of Stewart’s farm. They had welcomed her as a daughter, showering her with love and affection, providing her with much more than a place to hide. Instead they had made for her a happy, simple home. For Sarah, who had lived in elegant luxury all her life, these plain, good, down-to-earth people had provided a foundation for her own feelings of confidence to be rekindled.

Sarah was very glad that Peggy and Jeremiah had convinced her to take up residence here to await the birth of the baby. After that horrid day when her pregnancy had been discovered, she had wanted only to flee to England as fast as possible. But the Slades had convinced her of the dangers of an arduous voyage in her condition and the futility of doing it merely to escape the baby’s father. “Sarah,” Peggy finally pleaded, “if we promise not to tell Stewart where you are, will you please reconsider living with the Kempers? Mind you, we still believe Stewart has an obligation and should be told, but we respect the fact that it is your decision.”

Sarah had agreed to this at last, especially after Peggy and Jeremiah had promised not to aid Stewart in finding her. Hopefully she would have time to leave with the babe before his homecoming. She believed the Slades’ complicity had a great deal to do with Stewart’s complete lack of interest in her, which was obvious in his decision to stay away for over five months. Had he even considered the possible consequences of his actions on the island, he should have returned by now, if only to see what their tryst might have spawned. His avoidance of Sarah could only mean that he neither thought of her, nor cared.

Remembrances of Stewart were beginning to fade for Sarah. Her bitterness had been so strong for a while that it had started the process of forgetfulness – the only thing Sarah could count on to dull the pain of her unrequited love. And because of this abatement in her longing, she had recently made some important plans.

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