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Eight
Sara looked out her window at the slushy melting snow and sighed. She felt a dull ache in her chest, despite her excitement about the meeting she was to attend. She hadn't seen the Dodger in weeks, and she missed him. She had tried to sneak out twice, but both times she had been caught and reprimanded. All the exits of their estate were watched.
Sara sighed, and rested her forehead and a hand against the glass pane. "Dodger," she whispered. "Oh, Dodger. I miss you." She bit her lip. "Miss me too." She asked softly, and stared into the streets for another moment.
Pulling herself together, Sara stood up and walked to the mirrors in her room, appraising her coral pink gown. Come on Sara, she thought. There's no use moping. Now put on a smile, there you go. Think happy. You don't need the Dodger to be happy, despite the fact you miss him.
And I love him, the back part of her mind put in, and she smiled at herself in the mirror, her reflection concealing the internal strength she had tapped into that was at the core of her being.
A knock came to the door, and feeling very ready to get out of her room, she opened the door, and then entered the hallway to speak with the servant who told her that it was time to go.
Sara stepped out of the building amidst the throng of people heading to carriages, and grinned broadly. She looked into the streets, and all of a sudden, she was hit with an idea. The person you want to share this with the most is the Dodger, right? She asked herself. This is your chance.
Ignoring the hoards of people washing into the streets, she quickly crossed the road and turned down a side street before anyone noticed. Alive with the thrill of what she was doing, every step that took her away from the carriage that was waiting for her felt like a step away from captivity and towards freedom. She buttoned up her light coat, because though she felt refreshed by the chill of the April afternoon, she knew she had to hide her pale purple gown that was run through with silver thread because it marked her clearly as a person of higher station.
Sara walked the bright, noisy streets that she knew so well, and had missed so dearly. She rushed to the door of the Dodger's home, and she paused before the door as she had the first night she was brought there.
Not only from the excitement of what had happened and the exertion of her long walk after nothing but tea parties for a month, was Sara's heart beating fast. She breathed deeply in the attempt to slow her heart, and she knocked twice and called out her name. From behind the door, she heard footsteps.
The Dodger grinned unashamedly at the sight of her, and held open the door as she walked inside. "Sara!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see ya, but yer lucky I was here. You caught me on me day off, you did." He grinned again. "You 'aven't been 'ere in too long! But wha' is it, you look like yer about to split yer face open with a smile that wide!"
"Oh, Dodger, it's so exciting!" Sara cried, her eyes dancing with his. "The campaign – we've finally gotten somewhere! Something's going to happen soon, we're finally going to get to do something! Oh, I come because I had to tell you, but I'm sorry, I can't stay for long, even though it is so good to see you! I've got to do more planning, and prepare for my next meeting! After all, I am one of the heads of our campaign, and –"
The Dodger was still smiling, but his eyes were no longer dancing, though his voice was convincing. "At's wonderful. I 'ope it all goes well. I ain't jokin'. I know this means more than anythin' to ya."
Sara looked up into his eyes, and saw the sadness in them. She took off her coat, and sat down on a rail. "Oh." She said quietly. And suddenly, she realized that as important as the campaign was to her, and as important making a difference was to her, there was something that had become equally, if not more important, to her. The Dodger sat down on a stool across from her, and took her hand, upset to see her so dismayed. "Wha' is it?" he asked quietly.
Sara looked up at him, and tried to focus on something other than his hands holding hers. The light coming in from the grimy window to her right splayed beams of light across his concerned face and dark hair.
"I just realized." She said quietly, looking back down into her lap. "I – I will be terribly busy now. Even if I could still sneak out, I wouldn't be able to see you. And I – I don't know how long that will last, I–" Sara looked up, and was abruptly cut off by his lips on hers. She kissed him back, but after a moment, she pulled away, trying to suppress the lump that was building in her throat. "I don't know how long this will take, when I'm not able to see you. This could take months, years! I –" Sara paused, her heart thumping in her chest as she continued to speak quietly. Now she looked into the Dodger's eyes, and said softly, "I don't want to wait that long." Sara bit her lip. "I – I love you Dodger."
The Dodger felt the sadness he always felt when he knew he would have to let Sara go, but felt also that he wanted to have this one moment to remember of her. "I love you too." He said gently, and took her chin in his hands and kissed her softly, but his stomach churned. He knew she could never be his.
"But once ya said to me that the campaign was the most impor'ant thing in the world to ya. I can' let you leave it. It's yer dream. An' you won' be doin' much good by going and givin' up on yer dreams."
Sara's eyes glazed over, and she looked into her lap. "Dodger, you needn't say more." She stood up. "If you wish me to leave, you must simply say so and be done with it."
"Sara." Shocked, the Dodger took Sara's hand as she turned away towards the door. "'Ow could you possibly think that?"
Sara turned back to the Dodger, and met his eyes. They were only inches from hers. "So you say you love me?" she asked, a fire burning in her eyes. "Then –" Sara stopped, and took a step back. "Do you know what, this is silly. I never should have come. I'm sorry. You won't see me again." Then she opened the door, and did not look back as tears spilled down her cheeks, and she turned a corner and broke into a run.
After feeling like she was a safe distance from the Dodger, Sara let the tears flow down her face. She sobbed into her hands as she walked, thinking how now, as important as the campaign was to her. There was one thing more important. "Oh Dodger." She whispered through her sobs, and held her head high as tears blurred her vision and fell heavily down her cheeks.
"Oh, I've really made a mess of this one, haven't I." the Dodger muttered to himself, a moment after Sara had swept out the door. Then his eyes alighted on the coat Sara had left behind, and sweeping it up into his arms, tried to follow where she had gone. In the springtime slush, he could still see some of her recent tracks, her footprints smaller than most others in the dirty, half-melted snow.
"Sara!" the Dodger called, and ran quickly through the alleyways and streets. "Sara!" The Dodger turned a corner, and called, "Sar –" but then he broke off, seeing the shivering, well-dressed, upright shape of Sara, shaking with cold and tears.
He ran down the alley, and settled Sara's coat around her shoulders, and steered her shaking form into his arms. "Oh Sara, I'm so sorry." He whispered as she sobbed into his chest. "That wa'nt what I meant to say." The Dodger took a deep breath and stroked her hair. "What I ment to say was, 'onestly, if I had the money to give you a proper life, I would be asking you to marry me on the spo', if I was respectable, and you wou'n't be disowned and left wit' nothing for marryin' me." He sighed wearily, and closed his eyes. "You don't know how much I wish that. And fer the longest time, I tried to deny that I was in love with you, so tha' I would never have to lose you like this. Tha's wot I really mean."
Sara pulled back a little from his arms, and he quickly pulled out an old, but clean, handkerchief. He gently wiped the tears from her eyes, then folded it over her nose, and told her to blow. Blinking and smiling, Sara looked up at him. "Oh, Dodger." She whispered, and rested her head against his chest. "I love you. The campaign does mean so much to me, but there is one thing that has become more important to me." She smiled up at him. "You. Dodger, I love you! And yes, my great aunt could disown me, but that wouldn't cut off my inheritance!"
The Dodger's brows knit together, and Sara continued to answer his unspoken question. "My inheritance is from my parents! When they died, my father left me all his money when I turned sixteen in his will, married or not! And for the campaign – well, I'm their leader, but I have an incredibly competent second in command, and I could help her to lead the campaign, without actually having to go to meetings or attend anything, and –"
Sara was cut off once again by a kiss. Sara pulled away gently, and looked into the Dodger's eyes. "What?" she asked quietly.
"Well," the Dodger began, "I woul' never be accepted by respec'able folk. And I all seems extremely selfish on my par' to take you away from such a life of finery. Are you sure that this is wha' you want?"
"But Dodger!" Sara said quietly. "I never wanted any of that! All that money and fine clothes keeps women as hemmed in as if we were in cages. I hate it, and would never have chosen that life for myself." Her look turned shy now. "And besides, I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I've never wanted anything so much as this."
The Dodger paused, and looked at Sara. It still made him feel strange, but a pleasant feeling of strangeness when she spoke the words I love you. You idiot, he thought. The girl you love is right in front of you, tellin' you she wants to spend the rest of your life with 'er! Stop making excuses and do something right for once!
The Dodger took Sara's hands, and in the wet slush, fell to one knee in the middle of lower city London. "Sara." He began. "I love you, and I know that I don't have a ring, but if you want one, you can 'ave one. Would you do me the incre'ible 'onour of marryin' me?"
Walking back to Fagan's Charlie smiled, stumbling upon the scene. "Abou' time!" he muttered, grinning from down the alleyway. He smiled as he watched the Dodger take Sara's hands, go down to one knee. As tears ran down Sara's face, he picked her up and spun her around, their laughter echoing through the streets as Charlie broke into a run to announce to everyone that there was to be a wedding.