Only In Her Dreams Read online

  Sarah looked up at him and smiled, tea cup in her hand, “I will see you in the morning, Marcus.”

  Sarah savored her tea, the third time today she had been able to indulge in the wondrous brew. All too often on campaign, tea was in short supply. Sarah had come to appreciate the taste of tea with fresh leaves. She drank it without sugar or cream, enjoying the slightly bitter taste. Campaigning in Europe, coffee seemed to be always available; her Papa would barter with the Prussians, Spanish, or Belgians so that he could have his morning cup. Sarah supposed spending her formative years in India; mayhap she associated the drinking of strong tea with the times before her mother and younger brother died.

  After their passing, her father had seemed to sink himself into his work so that he was too tired to notice that half of his family was gone when he settled for the night. Sarah, in the time before they were sent home to England, used to spend time observing the other families and talking to the wives who came from foreign lands. By the time she came to go to school in Bath she spoke French, Spanish and Italian with some proficiency, she also had a smattering of Hindu from the servants and Iroquois from an American Indian woman named Sunflower Dawn. She pretended ignorance of languages while she was in school and only showed enough knowledge to pass the language classes. Not being as well born as some of the other young ladies at the school, she did not wish to push herself forward. She did secretly help her friend Emily, who was terrible at languages and Emily helped her with her needlework. Sarah stood and shook out the crumbs of the steak and kidney pie they had had for dinner and made her way to her room.

  Sarah opened the door to her room and saw Marcus dozing in the slipper tub. Army life being what it was, she had seen many men in various stages of dress; when the call to arms came men ran to their posts. She had never beheld the like of Marcus and she attempted to drag her eyes away from his naked chest with muscles glistening with water. His well defined chest tapered into an arrow to his pelvis, his legs were bent to fit his entire long frame into the tiny slipper tub. She had almost managed to tear her eyes away from him when Marcus said, eyes closed, “Fair is fair. I had a fair eyeful of you this afternoon—would you like to scrub my back?”

  Sarah approached the tub as though mesmerized and mechanically held out her hand for the sponge and feeling herself break out in perspiration, she said hoarsely, “Lean forward, sir.” She felt her hands tingling with the need to touch his bare skin, she grabbed her skirts with her one hand to make sure she did not involuntarily caress the skin of his back and grasped the sponge firmly in her other and proceeded to do a slow sensual soaping of his back.

  Marcus groaned, he had only meant to tease her a bit, he had had no notion that she would actually pick up the sponge and wash him.

  The groan seemed to startle Sarah out of her sensual haze, Marcus saw Sarah mentally pull herself together as she dropped the sponge in the water. She said quickly, “I need to ready myself to go to bed—I mean sleep, sleep that is…” She quickly got to her feet and backed out of the room averting her face. She was flushed and damp with perspiration. She gave a quick glance at his face, seeing his wicked smile, hurriedly looked away and slammed the door to her room

  As Sarah shut the door to the other bedchamber and tried to mentally close the door to the images that keep replaying in her mind. What on earth was she thinking to actually touch his bare skin. She had never even touched her Papa’s bare skin. Oh god, what must he be thinking I can not wait to get to my cousin. I must catch the mail coach tomorrow morning early, before Marcus—Captain Derning wakes. She forced her mind and heart to resume its former formal way of thinking of him. I heard that the mail will be coming through here at five of the clock. It should not be too dear Sarah thought as she mentally tabulated what it would deduct from her stock of coins. Her Papa had left her about five hundred pounds in coin and notes, enough to live on if she was frugal. She was very frugal.

  The next morning Marcus woke surprisingly refreshed. He had not realized how tired he was, he’d thought sensual thoughts of the woman in the next room would keep him awake. He pulled the bell to get the maid to bring him hot water for shaving, he dressed in his uniform again marveling at the mending Sarah had done under poor circumstances. He just bet that his cousin Emily the intrepid needlewoman she was, could not have done better riding in a coach. He was thinking what a great wife Sarah would make a military man some day. A man could come home to hot meals, clean linens and have a charming bed partner.

  He walked over to the connecting door and knocked—no answer. Hmm, he thought, she must still be asleep. He cautiously opened the door to her room—empty. He looked around and saw a note on the pillow of the unmade bed.

  He opened it and began to read:

  Captain Derning, I am grateful for all of your help but I have come to realize that I cannot remain in your company. What if we experience another break down or delay? Sir, I beg to tell you I am a virtuous woman but I am not made of stone. My actions and demeanor may have led you to believe that I would welcome such a situation as would be usual for people in our different stations in life. When you read this I will be well on my way to London on the mail. I should be at my cousins’ residence by tea time. By the by, I told the Innkeeper that we decided I would go on ahead to prepare our household. I do not think he believed me but it was all I could think to say.

  Yours,

  Sarah Montague

  He crushed the note in his hand and flung it across the room. “Damn her to hell,” he said with a voice thick with rage, “Who does she think she is to decide what my intentions are towards her. When I find her, if she is safe, I swear I will shake some sense into that foolish head of hers.”

  Chapter 3

  Sarah left the mail at the station in London. Sarah walked up to a man she saw cleaning up after the horses. “Sir, could you tell me how far it is to Whitechapel Mission?” she asked wearily.

  “It be a short ride in a ‘ack from ‘ere your ladyship,” he said with a smile. “Let’s me call you a jarvey.”

  Sarah persisted, “It’s a short walk, then? Which way should I go.”

  “’ere now tha’ be a bad place to a lady on ‘er own. Do ya ‘ave people you be seein’ there?” he said worriedly.

  “Just my cousins, the reverend and his sister.”

  “Tha be a diff’ent ting tha is,” the man said looking around and then calling out, “You boy!”

  The young lad of about ten years stopped, “Eh ,gov’ner, wha cher want?”

  “This ‘ere lady says she be kin to the Reverend Appleby, ya be one o’ ‘is boys ain’t ya?”

  “M’amelia said as how ‘er uncle and cousin would be comin’ fer a visit now that the war be done wi’…” the boy said rocking back on his feet and looking Sarah over. Sarah was wearing one of her new black dresses. “Ya do favor ‘er a bit. Where’s yer da?”

  Sarah glanced down at her dress and looked back at the boy, “I am afraid he will not be joining us.”

  The boy winced, “I be sayin’ the worst things a fella can say h’at times.”

  Sarah smiled in spite of herself, “You could not know he died.”

  The man at the station cleared his throat, “You jist be taken’ miss ‘ere to ‘er fambly roight and tight. I tells ya, Ida, there be a lot a swells comin’ in town. Be plenty ‘orses for you boys to ‘old an’ lots o’ shillin’s to be ‘ad. You tells the vicar ol’ Mick says so.” Yea! Ida! Ida! Yea it’s Ida

  Sarah pick up her valise and handed her portmanteau to the boy. “Do you think you can handle this, Ida, is it?”

  “Why don’t cher gimme your other bag, I can ‘andle it,” he said puffing his chest out, “H’it b’ain’t right a lady loik you to be carrin’ the big bag. I be stronger than I look, I ‘olds ‘orses for the gentry loik Mick says. I be allowed since last year.”

  They set off for the mission, Ida chattering to her like she was an old friend. “The Vicar, ‘e says that boys of a certain age be allowed to go out
earn some money for our keep. M’amelia, I mean Miss Amelia, she says we be too little to goes out. But the Vicar says she can’t molly coddle us because we haves to learn how to make our way here in Lunnon.”

  Sarah thought this seems to be a bone of contention between her cousins, but before she could ask more they had arrived at the mission. Sarah looked around her, it seemed like every bit of filth and offal seemed to be collected in this area. The stench was strong. The mission though, seemed the one bright spot.

  The boy, Ida, put her case on the step and ran into the house. A short time later a blond woman in her late twenties hurled herself out the door, “Sarah, I have been expecting you and your father this age. I am so sorry to hear about his death. You must tell me about it later. For now you must come in refresh yourself and I will have you a nice tea. It is very lively around here as you will see.”

  She led Sarah in the house and up the stairs. Ida, with Sarah’s bags, and one of the other boys met them at the door of her room with a pitcher of hot water and linen. Two girls who looked to be about nine or ten were hurriedly making up the small bed.

  “Sarah,” Amelia said, “Since our last communication we have started taking in girls as well. This is Cassandra and Alyce. Girls, this is my cousin, Sarah Montague. Her father is-was in the army he is-was the quartermaster sergeant.” Amelia looked chagrined.

  “Amelia, I have had some time to get used to the fact that Papa is gone,” Sarah said gently, “You found out not five minutes ago. I understand, when you do not see someone day to day it is hard to grasp that they are no longer of this earth. In fact there are times that I hear a footstep and I expect to find my father coming to me to tell me what to do with the supplies he managed get in trade from another unit.”

  Amelia seemed to take some comfort from Sarah’s words. She gave Sarah a fierce hug and told her she would be waiting downstairs with her tea.

  Sarah looked around the room which was spare of furniture and it had one small window which looked out on an alley. Lines were strung across the alley with wash being hung out to dry by two girls she had not met yet. She felt as though she was going to be a burden to her cousin. Unless she missed her guess and Ambrose was given a fortune, the mission did not need one more mouth to feed.

  The meager tea she was fed confirmed her opinion. Her cousin looked away from her eyes as she gave her a cup of pale tea and two biscuits. “I am sorry I did not know you were coming or I would have purchased some cream. I do not take it in my tea anymore,” Amelia said ashamedly.

  Unless she missed her guess, and Sarah was always shrewd about money, Amelia used every spare groat on the children. Sarah looked at her cousin closely, she appeared thinner and it was not the loss of the roundness of youth.

  “Amelia,” Sarah said gently, “I know my being here puts a strain on your household. I have some money to contribute—“

  “Oh no, Sarah,” Amelia exclaimed, “Ambrose and I would not hear of taking your money. The Lord will always provide somehow. You will see…” Amelia’s voice trailed off as if she had a hard time believing in the Lord’s good will at times.

  “How many children are there now?” Sarah asked.

  “About fifteen, eight boys and seven girls,” she said and sighed, “At times it seems that we can never do enough.”

  “You forgot to mention the three babes we just took in from the foundling home.”

  Sarah turned and sprang to her feet to receive a bear hug from her cousin Ambrose Appleby. She looked at him closely and saw a few worry lines that were not there a few years ago under his smile of welcome.

  “Ambrose, it is so good to see you,” Sarah said her voice muffled in his jacket. Ambrose was a tall, well built young man with blond hair and blue eyes. If Sarah did not know better she would have thought him to be much older than his twenty-eight years.

  “Sarah, I could not help but overhear you offering money,” he said sternly. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you like. If you want to help out, we can always use another responsible adult here.”

  “I do not want to be interfering but…” Sarah said hesitantly, “I have learned how to barter and bargain—in fact I would help Papa in some of his trades. I could see if I could maybe stretch your blunt a little further…”

  Rather than take offense, Amelia turned to her the light of relief in her eyes, “Would you really? The tradesmen around here are not very accommodating. They consider our children would-be thieves and prostitutes. I have tried every way to stretch a pence.”

  Before Sarah could comment one of the children she saw earlier in the alley came into the room. “Pardon me, Miss Amelia, Vicar, but there’s a soldier outside wot says ‘e knows your cousin,” she said carefully.

  “You said that very well, Rose,” Ambrose said with a smile, “a little more work and you will sound like one of the gentry. Why don’t you show him into the room?” The young girl smiled shyly and left the room to come back a few moments later with Marcus Derning following behind her.

  Sarah saw the thunderous look on his face and swiftly made the introductions. “Captain Derning, these are my cousins, Ambrose and Amelia Appleby. It is so nice to see you again,” she said quickly, “As you can see I have arrived safely here in London.” She turned to her cousins, “Captain Derning escorted me most of the way here from Calais. In fact, he gave up his cabin to me on the boat.”

  Amelia turned to Rose, “Dearest, could you please go get another cup and plate for the Captain—Captain, you must take tea with us, I insist.”

  With an obvious effort, Sarah saw Marcus rein in his ill temper. He smiled graciously and took the weak tea and biscuit when it was offered. “Miss Appleby…Vicar Appleby, I must needs speak with Miss Montague on a personal matter,” he said hesitantly, carefully balancing his cup and saucer on his knee.

  Ambrose gave Sarah a searching look and turned back to look at Marcus, “But of course, Captain. I would ask a favor of you.”

  Sarah saw Marcus look at the shabby furnishings and meager tea. She could see that he thought the good vicar was about to make a request for a donation. Marcus appeared resigned and started to reach for his money. “What could I do for you, sir?”

  “If it is not too much trouble,” Ambrose began. “We have these toy soldiers that have been donated to us—could you possibly visit sometime and help the boys set up a few battles.”

  Sarah saw the surprise on Marcus face. Considering her cousins’ dire straights, she supposed she should be surprised as well. But, she had known her cousin Ambrose since they were both in leading strings. He did not have a practical bone in his body. His mind was always on a higher plane. Living with all of these children has at least taught him something of the ways of children. She looked over at her cousin and caught a look of resignation in her eyes. Sarah knew even if her cousins were so inclined, it would be extremely poor breeding to try and beg money from a guest.

  Marcus tried to catch Sarah’s eye while she studiously avoided looking in his direction. She just knew he was going to ring a peel over her head. Good news is always welcome, bad news can wait. She lingered over her biscuit and pale tepid tea for as long as she could, then set her empty cup aside.

  “Ambrose, dear cousin, I do believe that Captain Derning wishes to remonstrate with me over my ill advised coach ride. Do you have a place where he can cast thunderbolts at my head in private,” Sarah said with a roll of her eyes.

  Her cousin Amelia hid a grin in her napkin. Rose, the child who was gathering some of the tea things was less circumspect and giggled.

  Marcus glared at Sarah, as Ambrose escorted them to his study. The room was very austere. An old desk sat in the corner and the many shelves held the minimum of books. Sarah looked around the room startled by the barren room. Her cousin Ambrose loved his books and she remembered he had quite a number of them. There was no evidence of the many she knew he had acquired over the years. She had almost forgotten the reason she had come to the room when Marcus cleared hi
s throat. Her stomach twisted as she turned to her companion and sighed.

  “Well, get on with it,” she grimaced. “I know you are just bursting to tell me how dangerous it was my going on the mail by myself.”

  He surprised her and paced over to the spotlessly clean window overlooking the small courtyard, “Actually, I blame myself. My teasing had gotten somewhat out of hand. The fact that you felt the need to loosen those tight purse strings and actually purchase a seat on the mail, brought it home to me.”

  She looked at him suspiciously.

  “I wish to talk to you on another thing altogether. We ran into many of your acquaintance on the road—“

  “Just two people—“

  He continued as if he was not interrupted, ”I feel that it would make good sense if we should marry. I should have hired a maid, checked the coach myself. I really feel that we would deal extremely well together.”

  For just a moment Sarah let happiness light her heart. Then she listened to the things he did not say. He spoke of neglect, obligation, duty and sense. He did not mention love, need or even esteem. Without even love or caring on their side the match was doomed from the start. She was a woman of dubious morals and stained reputation in the eyes of the small world they inhabited. She had seen the failure of many a promising couple when there was love and equal station to build upon. She steeled her resolve, “Captain Derning, I do not feel that we should suit.”

  He looked thunderstruck at her answer, “Come now, we have represented ourselves to be wedded, why not lend truth to the story and have your cousin do the deed.”

  Sarah felt some of her resolve crumble but she reached deep inside herself and found real pathos, “Captain, you are a soldier, I have spent my whole life in the tail of the army. The army life took my brother, mother and two baby sisters and finally my father.”

  Stunned silence met her words. In truth, Sarah did not wish to marry a soldier. But if things were different and Marcus had told her he loved her she would take a chance and wed him. If she ever found that cad Lieutenant Wilbur she would like to horsewhip him herself.