Read Online Lady Sarah's Redemption by Beverley Eikli - Free Book Online
Authors: Beverley Eikli
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about to
perform before a small audience, Sarah’s voice was a flat monotone as she
muttered in Caro’s general direction, “I shall play Hey, Betty Martin ”. Placing the music onto the stand, she dropped
ungracefully onto the piano seat and began to play, haltingly. The music’s lack
of feeling was matched by Sarah’s unemotional rendering of the words.
Once Caro’s dutiful clapping at the end of the piece had died away,
Sarah rose. Staring over Caro’s shoulder into the middle distance, she
collected the music sheets, shuffled them nervously, then muttered an
incoherent thank-you before exiting the room.
She took the stairs two at a time. A few minutes would be needed to
transform herself though she did not want to take too long about it.
“Ellen,” she called in a loud whisper as she passed the nursery, and
was glad the girls had obviously gone to sleep so that Ellen was free to assist
her.
The nursery maid’s face was a picture of horror as she stared at the
barely decent dress Sarah held out to her.
“Quickly, help me put it on,” Sarah ordered, as she pulled off the
grey merino and stood in only her chemise and short stays.
“Lordy, what are you doing?” Ellen squeaked. “You’ll lose yer job!
That dress don’t belong to you!”
“The master’s out. This is for Caro’s benefit,” Sarah explained.
“I’m showing her the difference confidence and poise can make. And don’t look
at me like that. I charged Caro with the task of finding me something suitable
of her mother’s, and this is what she selected. Now quickly!”
The dress fitted like a glove, once Sarah had removed her chemise in
order for it to hang properly. Then, on an impulse of pure wickedness, she
dashed water from her pewter jug onto the garment and began to smooth it
through the folds. Admiring herself in the full-length cheval mirror she had
purloined from Caro she was gratified by the seductive effect created as the
diaphanous garment clung to her limbs.
“Dear Lord,” whispered Ellen, stepping back after she had hastily
worked Sarah’s hair into an attractive topknot of tumbling curls, “I’m right
glad the master’s out. He’d drop dead at the sight of you. Reckon it’s the
dress m’lady wore the night everything blew up with Sir Richard.”
“Who is Sir Richard?” Sarah had heard his name before.
“Another of m’lady’s lovers, only he were the worst.” Ellen looked
more scared than eager to impart gossip. “She met her match, alright. He were a
true villain. Gave her a pearl necklace wot cost more ’n diamonds so’s she’d
run off with him, only she soon came back, she were that scared.”
“Good Heavens. How many lovers did Caro’s mother have?” Sarah
adjusted a curl.
“Well, there were Mr Hector and of course-” Ellen shot Sarah a quick
look, hesitated, then added, “and … Sir Richard. So I s’pose that ain’t too
bad.” She bit her lip. “Just don’t let the master see you, for it were the dress m’lady wore when she came
back a week later and Mr Hawthorne had to fight Sir Richard.”
“Mr Hawthorne seems to be in the habit of duelling,” Sarah remarked,
her tone dry though her heart beat loudly.
“Reckon this was the only one. Only lover, I mean. He’s a good shot,
the master.”
“What happened?”
“He winged Sir Richard. After that, the fellow was exiled for
debts.”
Sarah hurried down the stairs to the large, lovely drawing room
where Caro waited patiently. The longer she spent at Larchfield, the more
intrigued she became. Poor Caro. Even running a comb through her hair must fill
the girl with doubt as to whether she was doing it to court admiration, or
simply to get the knots out.
Well, this was a great lesson in demonstrating the vast middle
ground between being a self conscious dormouse and a raging coquette —
and it was fun!
Confidently she threw open the door, boldly meeting Caro’s eyes
above her ivory fan. Oh, she knew how to use her eyes to great
perform before a small audience, Sarah’s voice was a flat monotone as she
muttered in Caro’s general direction, “I shall play Hey, Betty Martin ”. Placing the music onto the stand, she dropped
ungracefully onto the piano seat and began to play, haltingly. The music’s lack
of feeling was matched by Sarah’s unemotional rendering of the words.
Once Caro’s dutiful clapping at the end of the piece had died away,
Sarah rose. Staring over Caro’s shoulder into the middle distance, she
collected the music sheets, shuffled them nervously, then muttered an
incoherent thank-you before exiting the room.
She took the stairs two at a time. A few minutes would be needed to
transform herself though she did not want to take too long about it.
“Ellen,” she called in a loud whisper as she passed the nursery, and
was glad the girls had obviously gone to sleep so that Ellen was free to assist
her.
The nursery maid’s face was a picture of horror as she stared at the
barely decent dress Sarah held out to her.
“Quickly, help me put it on,” Sarah ordered, as she pulled off the
grey merino and stood in only her chemise and short stays.
“Lordy, what are you doing?” Ellen squeaked. “You’ll lose yer job!
That dress don’t belong to you!”
“The master’s out. This is for Caro’s benefit,” Sarah explained.
“I’m showing her the difference confidence and poise can make. And don’t look
at me like that. I charged Caro with the task of finding me something suitable
of her mother’s, and this is what she selected. Now quickly!”
The dress fitted like a glove, once Sarah had removed her chemise in
order for it to hang properly. Then, on an impulse of pure wickedness, she
dashed water from her pewter jug onto the garment and began to smooth it
through the folds. Admiring herself in the full-length cheval mirror she had
purloined from Caro she was gratified by the seductive effect created as the
diaphanous garment clung to her limbs.
“Dear Lord,” whispered Ellen, stepping back after she had hastily
worked Sarah’s hair into an attractive topknot of tumbling curls, “I’m right
glad the master’s out. He’d drop dead at the sight of you. Reckon it’s the
dress m’lady wore the night everything blew up with Sir Richard.”
“Who is Sir Richard?” Sarah had heard his name before.
“Another of m’lady’s lovers, only he were the worst.” Ellen looked
more scared than eager to impart gossip. “She met her match, alright. He were a
true villain. Gave her a pearl necklace wot cost more ’n diamonds so’s she’d
run off with him, only she soon came back, she were that scared.”
“Good Heavens. How many lovers did Caro’s mother have?” Sarah
adjusted a curl.
“Well, there were Mr Hector and of course-” Ellen shot Sarah a quick
look, hesitated, then added, “and … Sir Richard. So I s’pose that ain’t too
bad.” She bit her lip. “Just don’t let the master see you, for it were the dress m’lady wore when she came
back a week later and Mr Hawthorne had to fight Sir Richard.”
“Mr Hawthorne seems to be in the habit of duelling,” Sarah remarked,
her tone dry though her heart beat loudly.
“Reckon this was the only one. Only lover, I mean. He’s a good shot,
the master.”
“What happened?”
“He winged Sir Richard. After that, the fellow was exiled for
debts.”
Sarah hurried down the stairs to the large, lovely drawing room
where Caro waited patiently. The longer she spent at Larchfield, the more
intrigued she became. Poor Caro. Even running a comb through her hair must fill
the girl with doubt as to whether she was doing it to court admiration, or
simply to get the knots out.
Well, this was a great lesson in demonstrating the vast middle
ground between being a self conscious dormouse and a raging coquette —
and it was fun!
Confidently she threw open the door, boldly meeting Caro’s eyes
above her ivory fan. Oh, she knew how to use her eyes to great
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