PART X
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"Nothing happens unless first we dream."
Carl Sandburg
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A fire was crackling in the fireplace and the hearth looked inviting, but I opted for the cold window seat, away from the other guests. Only a few took notice of me and offered me a phony smile, but I too took little notice of them. I was too busy watching Renee Ingram and Mr. Rabb, who were seated by the piano.
"Won't you sing for us, Mr. Rabb?" Renee asked.
"No, not tonight."
Renee Ingram, however, had different ideas. She seated herself behind the piano and shuffled through the music, finally selecting a piece. She related her choice to Mr. Rabb, who looked reluctant to sing, but did upon her insistence.
As they commonly did at these parties, Renee Ingram played and Mr. Rabb sang. Renee put in a flawless round, like I had expected, but I did not know of Mr. Rabb's talent. Until now.
I could relate his voice to anything . . . the sound of the wind, the sound of the waves, the mist eddying over the moors at dusk. Anything tranquil and serene. His voice was the one that 'perches on my soul . . . and never stops at all.'
He finished all too shortly and I was about to retire when I heard the women in front of the fire begin a discussion on secretaries. Assuming I would find it amusing to listen in for awhile, I prolonged by stay for a few more minutes.
"Yes, hired secretaries are the worst. We have our daughter, Laura, to do all our work. We could never trust anyone else." Mrs. Earnshaw spoke to the group, in obvious distaste to what another had said.
One of the guests leaned over and whispered something in Mrs. Earnshaw's ear. By her answer, it was most likely a statement regarding that a 'hired secretary' was in the room.
"Well I don't care! She ought to know her faults, anyhow."
Mrs. Ingram, Renee's mother, spoke up following this statement. "Yes, we had one once and it was a horrific catastrophe. It took months to reorganize everything after she ran her disastrous fingers over everything. I wouldn't trust them in a million years. I only trust friends and family to run businesses. I say a good business is headed by a good friend." With that she waved her glasses in the air carelessly, dismissing the subject. The resumed a previous subject I had not listened in on and I exited the room, more than ready to leave. I could not see how Mr. Rabb enjoyed the company of these people.
I noticed the strap of my shoe had come undone and bent down to tie it. As I was ready to stand back up, I noticed a shadow fall over me.
"Retiring so soon, Sarah?" Mr. Rabbchester asked in his soft, rumbling voice.
"Yes sir. I am tired."
"And hurt." He gestured to my hand, which was absently rubbing my injured shoulder. I quickly dropped it.
"No sir."
"Very well. But I would like you to come to the drawing room more often."
I parted, trying to hurry up the stairs.
"Sarah, what is wrong?"
"Nothing sir."
"Certainly. It looks like another word could bring a tear down from that eye. And alas!"
I quickly wiped the stray tear away, wishing I knew where it had come from. "I am tired sir."
"Good night then."
"Good night, sir." With that I quickly hurried to my room.
Reader, that following week was more torturous than I can say. I talked little with Mr. Rabbchester, now that he was further occupied, and spent most of my days walking about the garden or riding Misty, the pinto mare they used for farming. I had long ago given up walking around the halls. I had had a second encounter with the laugh and was now thoroughly baffled by the mysterious halls. Misty was a dainty mare, but sturdy and strong and I took a quick liking to her. The grooms didn't like me riding the more expensive Thoroughbreds, but I was satisfied with Misty. It's not the bloodlines or color that counts, but the disposition and willingness. My father always said it's the heart that makes a person what they are. Everything else is just adornment.
It was on one of my rides around Thornfield Mansion that I noticed a stranger walking on the road. I rode as close to the side of the house as I could, hoping to get a closer look at him.
He turned in at the Thornfield gate and quickly approached the door. Mrs. Fairfax answered it and the stranger addressed himself as Mr. Mason and inquired to as whether Mr. Rabb was home or not. Upon hearing he had left that afternoon on a short business trip, he looked sadly put out. Mrs. Fairfax said he could return that evening, but she suspected it would be the following morning.
The stranger acquainted himself with the lands for the next few hours and as I was cooling Misty down from a gallop, I saw him stare at the house for some time before heading down the road again. I later found out from Mrs. Fairfax he left only due to a pressing travel engagement.
I finished cooling Misty down and untacked her before heading up to the house. Something was astir. I could feel it.
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Later that evening the guests were in the drawing room and Mr. Rabb was in his study finishing up some business work when he called me in. I ignored how my heart beat a little faster, telling myself it was because of . . . I couldn't form an excuse fast enough before I entered his study.
"Sarah, please take a seat."
Ever since we had been talking more and getting better acquainted with each other, I had noticed he had begun calling me Sarah more than Ms. Mackenzie or Mac, like most people called me. But I didn't mind it . . . not with him.
I took a seat in front of his desk and patiently waited for Mr. Rabb to finish his work. Presently he set his pen down and looked up. "Evening, Sarah."
"Evening, Mr. Rabb—"
"Harm."
"Excuse me?" I asked, confused.
"Call me Harm."
"Yes, sir . . . Harm."
He nodded. "How has everything been running while I've been gone?"
"Smoothly, sir."
He looked pleased. "Good. I like to check on how things are going when I am away."
"A Mr. Mason did stop by, sir." I said casually, thinking Mrs. Fairfax had already told him about the visitor.
His face paled slightly and it was a few more minutes until he seemed to have regained his composure. "Mr. Mason, you say?"
"Yes, sir." A suddenly noticed his ashen face and trembling palm. "Are you all right? Should I call Mrs. Fairfax?" A wave of concern washed over me.
He shook his head. "No, I will be fine."
I was still uneasy and wished very much to call for someone. He looked greatly apprehensive about something.
"Did he have anything to say?" Mr. Rabb asked.
"I don't know, sir. I was out riding in the pasture and saw a stranger walk to the door and leave shortly after talking to Mrs. Fairfax. I knew nothing of his whereabouts until I inquired to Mrs. Fairfax. I thought she had told you."
"No . . . no, she had not."
We chatted for a few minutes more about various things, mostly about this business, and once Mr. Rabb had regained his color, I began to feel more at ease, chalking his actions up to a rough journey.
He stood and headed towards the room connected to the drawing room. "Won't you join us, Sarah?"
"Not tonight sir. I am tired."
I thought he looked disappointed a second, but I was uncertain. The fire was casting shadows across his countenance, making me unsure of what it actually portrayed.
"Good night, then." He said softly.
"Good night, sir." I replied, heading up to my room.
§§§
The following few days were filled with little activity for me, but it was far from monotonous. There was little work to do and I spent as much time as I could with Misty. Mrs. Fairfax wanted me to drop a letter off in town for her and I mounted Misty, preparing for the short journey.
We set off at a brisk pace and I quickly lost myself into my mount's smooth trot. The sun cast large, dappled spots on the road, resembling Misty's skewbald coat. It was a lovely day and the air was warm, but chilled with each breeze. We reached town all too quickly.
I dismounted and tied Misty to a post before heading into the post office.
"Hello, Mac." Mr. Morgan, the postmaster, said pleasantly.
I smiled back. "Morning Mr. Morgan." I handed him the letter. "It's from Mrs. Fairfax to be sent to Haygrove."
He looked at the address and nodded. "Will do." I had turned and was ready to leave when he called me back. "I have some mail for you. You can take it back with you. It'll save my rider a trip to Thornfield Mansion."
I nodded and took the bundle of letters. "Thank you, sir." I exited the post office and was about to stick the letter into my coat pocket when I saw the one on top was addressed to me. 'Odd.' Was my first thought. I had no relations I knew who would want to contact me and little friends who kept in touch. I ripped open the letter and began reading with earnest.
Dear Ms. Mackenzie,
Your Aunt, Mrs. Reed, would like your presence at Reed Hall as quickly as possible. She is dying and wishes to speak to you before she does.
Sincerely,
Mr. Simpleton.
Short and sweet. I recognized Mr. Simpleton's name as my aunt's financial advisor. What struck me most peculiar was that I had not talked to my aunt in years. My father and mother had passed away and I was handed into her care. She most reluctantly took me in, probably because it was in my father's will, and despised me from the beginning. I left for Longwood boarding school when I was ten years old and had not heard from her since. Whatever she had to tell me must be important. I would leave for my home, a home I had long since forgotten, as soon as Mr. Rabb would allow me leave.
With that thought I quickly mounted Misty, who, sensing my urgency with her usual perceptiveness, quickened her pace without a cue from me.
§§§
Mr. Rabb was in the billiard room with Renee Ingram and some other guests when I returned. Knowing I had to leave that night, I abandoned all pretence, and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
He looked surprised when he saw me and I quickly approached him, wanting to leave as soon as possible. The room seemed very crowed all of the sudden. Renee Ingram drew away as I approached and I tried to ignore her look of disdain.
"What is it, Ms. Mackenzie?" He asked very formally.
"My aunt is very ill and wishes for my presence as soon as possible. I wish to go tonight."
If my presence has surprised them, this surprised him even more. He gestured for us to step out into the hall, which I gladly did.
"How long will you be?"
"A week or more sir. I do not know what she wishes to see me for. I have not spoken to her in many years."
Mr. Rabb nodded. "You may go. Do you have any money?"
"Some."
"Some." He seemed amused by this. "A typical Sarah answer." He pulled out some money from his pocket, money which I declined. "You must accept it. Consider it as . . . a portion of early payment for working."
I nodded. "Thank you, sir."
He seemed uneasy, like he had something to say, so I remained. "You will be back, Sarah, correct?"
I nodded. "Yes sir. I will try not to stay too long."
He smiled softly. "Alright then. I will see you upon your return."
I smiled back and before I knew what I was doing, kissed his cheek. I hurried to my bedroom to pack, still in a baffled stage of what I had done. As strange as it was, I had no regrets.