Chapter Five

“That’s the way!” Connor cheered as Sabine rode Puissant across the grounds. “Perfect!”  

Holding onto the reins, Sabine pushed Puissant to her limits as they tore across the clear terrain at Southerby. Concealed by the hill that blocked the stables from view, Sabine had no qualms with riding as masculinely as she wanted. Leaning forward, abandoning her perfect posture, she enjoyed the incredible speed at which her mare was able to run.

Her golden hair had fallen from her loose braid and was flying behind her and her skirts was around her calves but she didn’t care. The freedom she felt as she rode Puissant at her fasted was like no other experience. It was exhilarating. Closing her eyes for a second she felt as if she were really flying.

But Puissant was no longer a filly. She was ten years old and needed to be looked after. Opening her eyes, Sabine pulled on Puissant’s reins and slowed her down to a walk. Fixing her skirt, she slid off her back and beamed at Connor who was jogging over to her, clapping his hands.

“I’ll be honest with ye, lass, ye ride better than most men!” he exclaimed, taking Puissant’s reins from her.  

Sabine curtseyed playfully. “Thank you,” she grinned. She ran her hand along Puissant’s neck and felt that she was very sweaty. “She needs to be rubbed down,” she told him. “Let’s get her back to the stables – could you fetch a pail for water?” she asked him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Connor nodded, rubbing Puissant’s forehead affectionately. “Ye, my fair lady,” he said, speaking to Puissant. “Are a star. I’m no’ kiddin’, she is the exact kind of horse I want to raise. However did ye train her?” 

Sabine shrugged. “I haven’t trained her, I’ve just ridden her since I outgrew my pony. It’s trust that we share, you can’t train trust, it comes naturally between horse and rider.”

Connor did a double take. “Are ye a poet in ye spare time, milady?”

Sabine smiled coyly as she began walking back towards the stables, Connor followed leading Puissant. “I didn’t have many friends growing up so I spent a lot of my time with horses. I think they understand me better than people do,” she laughed.

“Why’d ye not have any friends?” he asked curiously. As he furrowed his brows, small lines became apparent between his eyebrows.

Sabine pursed her lips and sighed. “I didn’t have any siblings until my brothers were born and even then I was quite a few years older than them. I wasn’t educated in the schoolroom in the village with the rest of the children, I had a governess, and she never allowed me to go outside the estate. I was quite glad when she left me to be honest,” she admitted.

“Your governess never allowed ye?” he asked in disbelief. “Why’d she have a say? Why didn’t ye da’ or ye mama set her straight?” he demanded to know.

Sabine looked to the ground, a little sad. “I was alone here until I was five,” she said quietly. She didn’t blame her father for leaving her, he was grieving. But even if he had grieved at Southerby, at least neither of them would have been alone. But then again, if he had not left her, he would have never met Jane and she would not have her mama. It was a part of her childhood that was very lonely, something she had forgiven, but she would never forget.

“Alone?” he repeated. “Why were ye alone?”

By then they had reached the stables. Taking Puissant back into her stall, Connor removed her saddle and blanket so Sabine could start wiping her down. “After my mama passed away, my papa left Southerby and moved around quite a bit,” she replied. “He didn’t come home until I was five.”

“Why wait so long then?” he inquired.

Thinking back to the weeks she had been in bed, she sighed. “I nearly died,” she told him. Connor’s brown eyes widened with shock.

“How?” he gasped.

“Scarlet Fever,” she replied. “It got so bad that my governess wrote my father in London so that he might return in time to say goodbye to me before I died. He came right away and I managed to recover. From then on we started to build a relationship. Then Miss Jane came to stay and she instantly became like a mother to me. Of course several other things happened, but at the end of it all I had a family for the first time in my life.” Her family now made those years of loneliness worth it. Even if her brother did bother her whenever they were home, she couldn’t imagine life without Philip and Louis.

“I’m … I’m so sorry, milady. That’s terrible – your illness and your loneliness … I thought all ye rich English folk were ridiculously happy,” he said sadly. He reached out and put his hand over Sabine’s comfortingly.

“You haven’t met many rich English folk then. But we are, my family are one of the lucky ones. And since I’m calling you by your Christian name, you might as well call me by mine. I feel as though you’re my friend now, rather than my employee. It’s just Sabine,” she instructed.

Connor flashed her his crooked smile. “Sabine it is,” he nodded.

“You have quite a few opinions on the English, I’ve noticed,” she commented, watching their hands. He hadn’t let hers go and she was sure it was because he didn’t want to.

Connor chuckled. “I know. My da’ hates ye all. We were all raised like tha’. I suppose I get some of my silly prejudices from there. But ye all here are fine people. You’re no’ like them painted up girls in the big towns. You’re nice.” He flashed her a smile to let her know of his sincerity.

Sabine was taken aback. “Why is your father like he is?” she asked quickly. His father truly sounded like a beast. “I saw the scars on your back. You were lashed, weren’t you?” Sabine shivered slightly at the memory of the indentations on his back that had been from repeated whipping.

Connor’s smile disappeared instantly. “Aye,” was all he said.

“Why were you whipped?” Sabine pressed. She thought it only fair as she had just divulged something personal to him.

“There are some things tha’ a woman does no’ have to hear, Sabine,” he said emotionlessly.  

“A woman?” she repeated.

“Aye, a woman. Ye keep your ears as pure as possible. Live in your own little world here for as long as ye possibly can!” he exclaimed, his voice as sharp as steel.

Sabine wasn’t afraid of him or what he had to say. “Don’t feel as though you have to protect me, Connor,” she said firmly.

A small hiss escaped his mouth as he glared at her. “Don’ ask questions ye don’ want to know the answer to,” he snapped. “I’ve go’ to fetch Puissant some water. I suggest ye return to the house.” With that he disappeared from the stall, walking like a man who had who was very angry. But she knew he was not angry with her, he was angry at his father, and whatever led him to be lashed.

Doing as she was told, Sabine placed a kiss on Puissant’s cheek and disappeared from the stables as quickly as she could. Her feelings weren’t hurt, Connor was just not ready to talk about what had happened to him in his younger years. She understood. Like her, he had untold childhood traumas that haunted him. She hoped that he knew she was there if he ever needed to unload.

It had rained the night before, which meant that the grass was quite dewy. As she walked, the hem of her dress became filthy with mud and water from the ground. As she entered the house, she pulled up her skirts so that the hem didn’t touch the fine carpets.

She walked through the house and into the entry foyer to walk up the stairs when she paused. In the drawing room she heard the familiar voice of Mr Percival Rochester. He was talking with her parents. As silently as possible she pressed her ear to the keyhole so she could know what was being discussed.

“It is a fine idea in my opinion, Lord Southerby,” Mr Rochester chirped. “We will make a fine match. I have my own wealth so it is obvious to you that I am not after acquiring Sabine’s dowry.”

“Lady Sabine,” Daniel corrected sternly.

“Forgive me, Lady Sabine,” Mr Rochester laughed lightly.

Sabine gasped. He could not have been asking what she thought he was. “Come on, papa,” she whispered. “Stop it now.”

“Mr Rochester, I’m afraid that Sabine does not care for you in … that way,” her mother said awkwardly.

A wide smile spread across Sabine’s face. Her mother would fight for her, she knew she would.

“Perhaps, but she will. Love is not instantaneous, Lady Southerby. It takes time. Often years,” he said firmly. “I’ve found someone that I want to share my years with and I’m sure she will feel the same in time. I can make your daughter happy, I promise you both.”

Sabine knew that Mr Rochester was speaking sincerely, but she could not imagine anything worse than being tied to him for the rest of her days. She prayed that her parents would stop him.

“Mr Rochester,” Daniel sighed. “You have my permission to ask to court her, but if she says ‘no’ then that shall be the end of it. I won’t force her.”

She heard Mr Rochester immediately rise from his seat. “Thank you!” he exclaimed. “Where is she right now? I shall go and ask her immediately.”

“She’s down at the stables,” her mother answered lethargically.

She heard movement come towards the door. Sabine panicked. She immediately gathered up her skirts, not caring how much leg was on display, and ran as quickly as she possible could towards the grand staircase which would lead her to her bedchamber and to salvation. But by the time the drawing room door opened, she had only made it up half the stairs.

“Lady Sabine!” Mr Rochester called.

Sabine squeezed her eyes shut, for the first time hating the sound of her own name. She turned around slowly, letting her skirts fall to the ground. “Yes?” she said innocently, plastering on a fake smile.

Mr Rochester’s green eyes looked her up and down curiously. Clearly she did not look as fine as she had the night before. Her blonde locks had fallen from her braid and her hanging loosely down her back and her dress was incredibly dirty. He, on the other hand, was dressed in his usual finery. His suit was navy and looked as though it was made from the finest fabrics. “Might you come down so that I may speak with you?” he asked politely.

“Must you?” Sabine bit her lip nervously. “For I have some urgent … things to do at this minute.”

“Sabine,” her father said sternly, emerging from the drawing room with her mother by his side. “Just go with Mr Rochester,” he urged.

Sabine wanted to glare daggers at her father for allowing the question even to be asked, but she knew it would only draw attention to the fact that she was displeased, and she didn’t want to offend Mr Rochester. Sighing, she made her way down the rest of the stairs and accepted Mr Rochester’s extended arm. Instead of taking her out the back way, he led her out the front door.

Unlike the houses in London that bordered the streets, Southerby House had extensive front gardens as well. With a winding gravel road and large oak trees all around, it looked as if it were their own private town. The leaves on the trees had turned orange as the autumn season reigned.  

Mr Rochester took a deep breath before speaking. “Lady Sabine,” he began. “I do not think my intentions towards you have been very subtle. It is high time that I select a wife, and you fit the criteria perfectly.”

Sabine arched an eyebrow. “Criteria?” she repeated.

“Of course,” he smiled. “You’re well bred, well spoken, wealthy, beautiful and you come from a child – bearing family so I will have heirs to my fortune.”

Sabine was surprised at how easily he listed off qualities that he liked in her, and they were not the qualities that one liked to hear when they were being offered a courtship. “Child – bearing?” she scoffed.

“Well, I mean that your mother has had sons so that means that you will give me sons,” he said nervously, realising that he had said the wrong thing.

Sabine didn’t tell him that Jane’s sons were only her half – brothers and that she was more likely to die in child birth than to give him a son. “Mr Rochester –” she began but he quickly cut her off.

“Before you say ‘no’, just let me speak,” he said, sounding quite vulnerable. He stopped their walking and rounded on her so he was standing before her. “I know I’m not very skilled at expressing myself,” he breathed. “But you, Lady Sabine, are exactly what I’d like in a potential wife. I think that you could make me very happy and I would do my best to make you so. Will you allow me to court you, Lady Sabine?”

Looking into his wide, green eyes, Sabine could tell that he was completely sincere. Mr Percival Rochester wanted to court her and potentially marry her. She didn’t want to, but the thought of saying ‘no’ just made her feel immensely guilty. What harm could come from courting him? All she would have to do is dance with him more than any other at an assembly and perhaps see him at family dinners once or twice a week. “Alright,” she agreed.

She regretted her decision the second after she’d made it. A wide, happy smile spread across Mr Rochester’s face as he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Sabine stiffened at the contact. She’d never been kissed by a man that hadn’t been in her family.

“The Autumn Dance is being held at the church on Friday, would you accompany me?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Sabine said timidly.  

Two months passed quickly and before anyone knew it, it was November and the snow began to threaten England as the temperatures cooled right down. In those two months, Mr Rochester had been nothing but a doting suitor which made Sabine feel even guiltier. She didn’t know how to end the courtship without hurting his feelings. She had no idea what would happen if he asked her to marry him … she would most likely just run in the opposite direction.

Her parents had been completely shocked when they’d found out she’d agreed to court Mr Rochester. They’d found out later that night that she’d agreed out of pity and were not too pleased with her, but they understood her reasons. They just told her that she was not to accept a marriage proposal because that would not be fair.

In most aspects, Mr Rochester had been a perfect gentleman, the only thing he disapproved of was her spending time in the stables. He didn’t like Connor and whenever he was in sight he made snide comments about him which had irked Sabine in the beginning, but not so much anymore.

Ever since she’d asked Connor about his father he had been particularly cold to her. She began spending less and less time in the stables, so much so that she only ever ventured down with her mother for their daily ride, and Connor had left their saddled horses outside the stables ready for them.

What Sabine had found though was that she missed Connor. She missed talking to him about horses. She missed bickering with him about their different ways of doing things. She missed hearing his accent every day. She missed his crooked smile. She just missed him.

The more that she thought about it, the more she realised that there might have been something more than just friendly banter between them. He made her feel interesting and he always listened to what she had to say, never looking like he thought she was dull. He made her feel good about herself. At least, he did when he had been speaking to her.

She didn’t know what she had done to make him so angry with her. The only thing she could think of what asking about his family. Perhaps he was even more sensitive on the subject then she originally thought.

She tossed and turned in her bed one chilly night in mid – November. She didn’t know what to do about Mr Rochester and she had no idea what was happening with Connor. Even if anything was happening with Connor, she knew her father would never approve.

She sighed, opening her eyes. She stared up at the white canopy that hung above her bed. The glow of the embers in the fireplace lit the room dimly so she could see all of the fine furnishings. Her childhood things were gone and had been replaced with a desk with beautiful stationary, a dresser and a beautiful gold, gilded mirror.

She was startled when she heard a light tap on the window pane. Sitting upright in her bed, she saw the outline of a person through her thin drapes. There was someone on her balcony!

Getting out of bed quietly, she quickly put on her silk wrap and crept over to the window.

“Who’s there?” she hissed. “I’ll have you know that my father owns several muskets!” she threatened. Her father only had one musket and it was downstairs.

“It’s me, lass,” Connor whispered. “Can ye let me in? I’m freezing my bollocks off out here.”

Sabine took a step away from the window and gasped. He hadn’t spoken to her in two months and now he was on the balcony. It was inappropriate in so many ways, she couldn’t let him inside. If anyone found out she would be ruined. But she had to speak to him, she needed to know what he was thinking, and what she was thinking.

---

Hope you enjoyed it!!

Vote and comment :)