Saraband for Two Sisters

“Except when he became betrothed to Carlotta.”

“Ah, you were deeply hurt. I knew it. But it’s over.”

“Mother, please understand. It taught me something and that is that when I marry it will not be Bastian. Never! I was fond of Bastian but I don’t love him. Please do not ask me to take him because I won’t... I won’t.... »

“You know very well that neither your father nor I would force you into a marriage which was not of your liking.”

“Then the matter is settled.”

“Let us leave it for a while, Bersaba. Think about it. Bastian would be a good, kind, and gentle husband. He would help you slowly to realize all that marriage means.” I smiled inwardly at the innocence of my mother and I wondered what she would say if she knew of those passionate encounters in lonely places in the woods. She had accepted Phoebe’s dilemma. What would she have said if she now found her own daughter in such a position?

“I will never marry Bastian,” I said. “I am determined.”

She sighed and kissed me. I was sure that she believed that one day I would change my mind.

But Bastian knew I never would. He had sensed the change in me. He thought it had come about because of his entanglement with Carlotta. It had to some extent, but there was more than that I learned something about myself and that was that I did not know all I had thought I had. Life was bewilderingly complicated. I had much to learn and I was eager to begin. I felt I had had all I needed from Bastian.

A few days passed. I was coolly aloof and now did not care if I was alone with him and because I could compare him with Sir Gervaise he no longer seemed the handsome young god he had. I no longer felt the urge to embrace him. I was free from my ardent desires for a while.

He understood more than my parents could because they had no idea of how far our relationship had progressed.

Before he left, Bastian asked my father if he could join in his enterprise and go to sea with him and Fennimore when he left.

It was a hasty decision, said my father. He must not think that because I had refused his offer of marriage that was the end of the old way of life. Bastian implored him to consider him and my father eventually said he would. So he left us and in due course we heard that Carlotta had become Lady Pondersby and was living in some state in a mansion not far from London and Senara was with her.

My father decided that he could find a place for Bastian, and in September of that year when my father and brother sailed away, Bastian was with them. Just before they left a messenger arrived from London, with letters from Sir Gervaise to my father and among these was one for our mother from Senara and one for Angelet and myself from Carlotta.

Angelet and I seized it and with great excitement took it up to our bedroom to read it. She had written: MY DEAR TWTNS I wished that you could have come to my wedding. You would have been so interested to see how these matters are conducted here. I have been thinking of you there in the country and what fun it would be if you came to visit me. You said you always wanted to see London. Well, now is your chance.

I am writing to your mother to tell her that this is an invitation.

I hope she will spare you.

We had an exhausting journey to London, but it was worthwhile to be here and my mother and I did so much enjoy our little sojourn in the country. I shall hope to see you both, or if both cannot be spared at the same time, then one of you.

I look forward to hearing your news.

CABXOTTA Angelet and I looked at each other with sparkling eyes.

“To London!” we cried.

Angelet threw herself into my arms and said, “We’ll both go. One of us couldn’t stay behind. I wouldn’t let you go without me.”

“Nor you without me.”

“We should need clothes.”

“We’ll take Phoebe. We shall need a maid.”

“It will be wonderful to see London. Do you think we shall see the King and Queen?”

“She said to London, not to Court.”

“Yes, but Carlotta goes to Court, doesn’t she? So perhaps she’ll take us.” Angelet turned out all her clothes from the cupboard. She tried them on, smiling, frowning. She was very excited.

When we saw our mother we realized that she was not so happy at the suggestion.

“You can’t go,” she told us. “Not yet. Your father is going and Fennimore with him.”

She looked so woebegone that Angelet cried, “Of course we won’t go, Mother. I’d forgotten. You’d be all on your own.” Then she was smiling. “But why shouldn’t you come with us?”

“I’d have to be here for when your father comes back.”

“But he’s only just gone. He’ll be away for months.”