Two: The Gentlemen are coming!

The month between the reception of the letter announcing their travel plans and the day they were to arrive moved monumental hebetude. Sarah found herself fixating on the strangest things. She must have fixed the painting in the hall 14 times over and yet it still stemmed crooked. Her thoughts were driving her mad. She was excited to see her friends and equally terrified that they would fall out of that friendship upon reuniting.

Then it arrived, the day she had been anticipating. A knock on the front door and the butler walking in his usual slow formal pace down the stretching hall. Sarah sat in the blue room and could see movement at the door but couldn't make out much else. Voices muffled by the walls between them resembled her American companions.

Sarah felt a pang of worry that her dress might be too fancy, that it would seem too British or something. She didn't have time to change.

Before she could manage another thought the door opened and the butler entered. "A mister James Hiller and mister Herni Lefebrve." Two young men now almost the same height entered the room. Henri had grown quite tall since their last meeting and James- Sarah found herself speechless.

James was exactly how she remembered him, smiling, his blue eyes sparkling, his hair pulled just so in a ponytail. His coat was nicer and his shoes also seemed new but it was still James, unchanged. She would've hugged him but her mother stood before anything was said and that gesture was enough to remind Sarah where she was and what was proper.

"James, Henri, this is my mother, Lady Phillips." Her mother extended a hand which James awkwardly shook and said: "It's nice to finally meet you." Her mother glanced at Sarah, who bit back a cringe. Of course, James would know nothing of the complexities of English social introductions. Henri took the French approach. Kissing the Lady's hand and saying, "Madam I can zee where Sarah gets her looks. You are a vision in violet."

At that James and Sarah made eye contact and both instantly burst into laughter.

"Sarah, please." Her mother drew her hand cautiously away from Henri. "Why don't we get your guests settled in their rooms and prepare for dinner?" Sarah now feeling like a child who had stepped out of line, nodded.

The butler returned to show the boys where they would be staying. Once they had gone Lady Phillips turned to Sarah.

"Teach them how to be properly introduced. What will our friends say? Really, Sarah. There is a difference between country manners and no manners."

"Mother, they meant no offense. Ben practically raised them as his own. I'm sure the focus of a Franklin education is not English introductions."

"Well, the focus of a Phillips' education ought to be. You shouldn't have laughed."

Dinner was not much better. Every time James or Henri would bring up anything interesting or funny Lady Phillips would steer the conversation towards completely bleak prattle about the kinds of hats one should wear, or how England was colder this winter than previous years, or how garden parties seemed to be fashionable this season. Sarah would have felt horrible if it hadn't been for James's understanding looks and smiles.

After dinner Lady Phillips thankfully went to bed. Around a warm fire the three friends were able to speak freely.

"If it wasn't for James I would have been shot by her father right then." Henri laughed.

"You were playing with fire Henri. The governor's daughter." James shook his head.

"She wanted a Frenchman." Henri smirked.

"It's a wonder then, she settled for a boy." Sarah smiled.

"Oh," Henri clutched his side as though a bullet had been through him, "I've been shot. Sarah how could you!" They all laughed.

Sarah looked over at the door, wondering if her mother was getting cross. She felt that perhaps they had been up too late, or were making too much noise. Sarah felt as though somehow this was breaking the rules.

"Sarah?" James has noticed her concern. Of course, he had. James never missed anything, it's what made him such a good journalist.

"Sorry. I just thought," she stopped herself, "nevermind. I'm being ridiculous."

Henri sensing that James was about to press Sarah into a personal sort of conversation decided he should also go to bed and left them alone.

"Your life here is pretty, uh, controlled," James said.

"Indeed," Sarah replied. "My mother had very high hopes for me, I think. I seem to have disappointed her. I don't think she can forgive me for being independent."

"Being independent or being American?" James pressed.

"Aren't they the same? When we came back here she wanted me to go to every party, see everyone, be reintroduced to proper society but I kept ruining things. I'd bring up politics or economics and the husbands, and eligible suitors would complain and mother would be reminded that I don't really fit in here anymore. She doesn't like me and I suppose she's not fond of you either. I think she had this idea that being with friends would tame me somehow. That you and Henri, the Frenchman, would bring out the best in me."

"I hope that I do bring out the best in you." James interrupted her lament. Sarah smiled.

"James, of course, you bring out the best in me, just not the most British side of me and-" Sarah was about to start lamenting again but it was James who spoke.

"You bring out the best in me too, Sarah. I've really missed you." James smiled and Sarah lost her train of thought. He was quite sweet when he wanted to be. His blue eyes were staring right through her. She was strangely captivated by him. How had she not noticed his remarkable smile before, his piercing eyes, that one strand of blonde hair that had broken free and caressed his cheek, his lips- the fire crackled loudly and ember popped as the wood shifted. They both retracted from the trance.

"I miss writing." Was what Sarah managed to say. She wasn't sure if it was what she had meant to say but she had said it.

"Well, don't let it get to your head, but you are, on occasion, a fairly good writer." James smiled.

"A compliment? Maybe I really do bring out the best in you." She teased. Sarah was trying to act normal around him but it felt strange.

"Surely there are newspapers here-"

"Not for a Lady's daughter. I'm trapped, James. I suppose it's all by design. My only way out of this house will be marriage, probably to lord- then I'll be a lady and have things at least to keep me busy. But that seems so horrible. Marry someone rich or suffer here with your mother for the rest of your boring life." Sarah hadn't realized how truly droll her life was before that. Why has she said all that about marriage? James wouldn't care- she glanced up to see him with a look of genuine concern across his face.

"That's awful." James's face lit up with a thought. "You should come back to America with us! Henri wants us to go to France because he's met some revolutionaries who claim that things are really going to start changing there but I think it's dangerous. If you come back to America with us, you can help me convince him it's a bad idea. He's more likely to come back if you're there. And besides, you can talk sense into anyone! And you can write again! And we can move back into the apartment- uh, apartments." He paused.

Sarah couldn't help but smile. She wanted to move back to America and be with her newspaper family more than anything. Then her face fell.

"My mother would never speak to me again if I left."

They were both silent. James supposed that he understood. He would give anything to see his parents, nevermind live with them in a big comfy house.

"Oh James." She reached out and took his hand. His heart skipped a beat. "I wish that I could more than anything. You are the best friend I have ever known. Despite our differences, we are good for each other. Sometimes I wish I had never met you. Then at least I wouldn't have to know the pain of being separated from you." She admitted

James placed his own hand over hers and met her eyes.

"Sarah, I don't know how to say what I'm trying to say." He tried to gauge her reaction but she was just looking at him, waiting for his next words. He sighed, "I don't want to go back to America without you. I don't think I can. I need you in my life, every day"- they had both moved a little closer to each other, drawn in by the honest and frank nature of the conversation. "I feel like I'm not whole when you are missing, like a part of me is missing." James gulped. She was hanging on his every word- she hadn't stopped him, or said he was being improper. He wanted to kiss her, it felt like she wanted him to kiss her too. He leaned forward and tucked a hair behind her ear. Their eyes met. "Sarah." He smiled, seeing that she was smiling too. His heart fluttered. James would savor this moment forever. It was the moment he realized she loved him too.

But they didn't kiss. Instead, the butler entered the room and the two slid apart.

"Miss Phillips, your mother would like to see you." He said and glanced at James who had a dopey smile across his face. "Perhaps you should retire for the evening, Mr. Hiller?" James took the hint and both left the room with the knowledge that their friendship had changed but not at all how Sarah had feared it might.

All James could think about as he headed to his room was how free he felt, how perfect it seemed- Sarah's smile. He sighed remembering what she said about leaving England and her mother.

James knew in his heart that despite her protest Sarah had to come back home to the Gazette with him. He decided he would have to prove himself as a gentleman and convince Sarah's mother that he was a worthy suitor. He resolved in that moment that he would marry Sarah and do things the proper -he rolled his eyes a little- British way. For Sarah, he could do this. How hard could it be to fit into polite society?

James stopped for a moment to examine a painting on the wall. It was slightly crooked and he wondered how much that bothered his future wife. James smiled at that thought too. She was his match in every possible way, why had he never seen it before? Why hadn't he kissed her?

Henri was waiting in his room and bombarded James with questions as he entered.

"How did it go?" Henri asked immediately.

"Just as it should've." James quipped.

"Oh come on, did you kiss her at least? Declare your love for her? Rescue her from her drab British life and whisk her away towards another adventure-"

"Henri," James threw a pillow at his young friend which hit him directly in the face and knocked him over. "It's improper to talk about such things." James did his best to sound British but his accent was, well, not great.

"Not for a Frenchman." Henri laughed, "or an American." He added.

"Yes, but my lady is British and I'm going to try my best not to offend her. I really like this one Henri, don't screw it up." The boys continued to talk late into the evening mostly about Herni's disbelief that James could play the part of a gentleman.

Down the hall which seemed worlds away, Sarah was receiving terrible news from her mother. They were to have Lord Wilson for dinner the next evening and the timing of his designs could not have been worse.