Part 14 (1/2)
hear you.”
His friend glanced round in alarm. Sarah patted his arm soothingly.
”Louise is far too busy preening herself on throwing Adam and Lydia together to care what you say.”
Her voice was dry. ”We must not spoil her triumph. Let us go this way.” She led them in the opposite direction, regaling them with the same tales of battle that Adam was telling Lydia. Swan was thoroughly amused, but Kerry grew quite indignant when her role as sacrificial victim was explained to him.
”Never would have thought it of Adam,” he said in puzzlement, ”nor your brother neither, ma'am.
Obliging fellows in the general way, I a.s.sure you.”
”Did you have no sisters to tease when you were a boy, sir?”
”They teased me,” he explained gloomily. ”Never got the chance to turn the tables. Still afraid of m'sisters.”
”Formidable females,” Swan agreed.
They wandered back to the picnic site. Lord Edward and Mary's husband were dozing among the cus.h.i.+ons, while Louise and Jonathan chatted nearby. Everyone else had gone to stroll among the barrows. Sarah started making daisy chains, and her companions persuaded her to teach them the art. Soon she was festooned with necklaces and bracelets and crowned with several wreaths of the pink-tipped flowers. She was laughingly protesting the addition of yet another, when Adam appeared with Lydia in his arms.
She jumped up, scattering flowers across the rugs, and hurried towards them.
”What happened? Lydia, are you hurt?”
”Miss Davis slipped and turned her ankle. I fear it is badly swollen.”
”My dear, is it very painful? You are a little pale. Set her down on the cus.h.i.+ons, Adam, and I will look at
it.”
The others crowded round with expressions of sympathy until Louise chased the gentlemen off. Lydia
had not said a word but she could not suppress a cry of pain when Sarah touched her ankle with gentle fingers in an attempt to discover the extent of the injury.
”You cannot possibly ride home,” said Sarah, frowning in thought.
”Adam shall take her before him on Caesar,” Louise proposed with a pleased smile.
”Oh no, I could not. Pray do not make me,” Lydia beseeched her, flus.h.i.+ng.
Eliza and Lord Moffatt and Vanessa Brennan hurried up at that moment. Eliza was firmly of the opinion that it would be most improper for Lydia to ride with Adam. The sisters were beginning to squabble when Sarah cut across their argument.
”I believe my brother is the best person to take her. As he is a clergyman there cannot be the least suggestion of impropriety. Jonathan!” she called. ”You will not mind carrying Miss Davis before you?”
He left the group of gentlemen who were standing about looking uncomfortable at their uselessness.
”I shall be glad to be of a.s.sistance.” He looked down at the girl with a warm smile. ”The sooner we have you safely home the better,” he suggested. ”Will you come with me?”
”Oh yes, I shall not mind going with you, sir. Sarah, will you come with me?”
Louise said sulkily that she would go too, and Lord Edward elected to accompany them, while Adam stayed behind to round up the rest of the party and escort them back to Cheve. Sarah glanced back as they rode off. Swan and Kerry were looking after her wistfully, and she realized that in the bustle of taking care of Lydia she had abandoned them without a thought.
Adam was also watching their departure. His expression was enigmatic. Sarah was suddenly afraid that he resented her interference, that he had wanted to hold Lydia in his arms on Caesar's back as he had carried her from the scene of her accident. A wave of pure jealousy flooded through her. Was it possible that Adam had a tendre for the girl?
She did not see him again that day, and when she woke the next morning her emotions were still in turmoil. She was also somewhat stiff from riding. The best cure for both conditions, she decided, was a walk to Stonehenge.
There was a damp chill in the air when she slipped out of bed. She s.h.i.+vered as she drew back the curtains and looked out into grey nothingness. A damp, gloomy shroud of mist hid the church; she could scarcely make out the low stone wall separating the garden from the churchyard. It was no day for walking freely across the hills, yet she could not bear the thought of being confined to the house. She put on an old brown walking dress and took a warm cloak downstairs with her.
Jonathan had been unusually silent the previous evening and he was no more communicative that morning. Having a.s.sured himself that his sister meant to stick to the lanes, he returned to his newspaper. She ate a piece of toast and drank some tea, then put an apple in her pocket and set out.
The only sign of life in the street was a scavenging mongrel. The village seemed unfamiliar and vaguely ominous in its grey stillness and Sarah was glad to leave it behind her. Though she could see only a few paces to either side, the lane that led towards Amesbury and Stonehenge was clearly defined in white chalk against the green gra.s.s and she had no fear of losing her way. The mist m.u.f.fled the sound of her footsteps and neither birdsong nor bleating sheep broke the silence.
Warmed by the exercise, she was throwing back the hood of her cloak when she heard the drumming of hooves close behind her.
”Sarah!”
She looked up into Adam's smiling eyes as he drew rein beside her. Her heart turned over.
With effortless grace he swung down from Caesar's saddle to walk beside her, leading the horse.
”Lord, it's difficult to find you alone!” he said.
”Did you want to?” She felt ridiculously shy.
”Desperately.” He reached for her hand, then drew back, his smile fading. ”What a devilish coil,” he groaned. ”I am at my wits' end.”
”What is it?” Sarah's sympathy had a cautious note. ”Never tell me that Marguerite has returned to haunt you, or did you meet Peggy in the village? I had thought her resigned to losing her hero.”
”Much worse. I scarcely know how to tell you.”
”Then pray do not.”
”I must. You are my only hope and I could not bear it if you found out from someone else. Sarah, I'm engaged.”
Shock froze her, her gaze on his despairing face. Then she looked away, drew a deep breath and walked on.
”To whom?” Her voice was carefully neutral.
”To Lydia...”
”I wondered, yesterday. She is a very sweet girl. I wish you happy, Adam.”