Saraband for Two Sisters

I passed a miserable two days. Richard Tolworthy would either be killed himself or kill the other man, and I could see no satisfaction in that. How could he have challenged the other in such a senseless manner? Luke Longridge had insulted the King. Well, I thought angrily, let the King fight his own battles.

But Richard was a soldier ... a man of ideals. Of course he was right, I assured myself. I thought of Luke Longridge, whom I was beginning to hate because he had provoked this duel.

I asked Carlotta what happened if a man was injured in a duel.

“Sometimes he dies. It depends how deeply he is wounded.”

“And the other?”

“He would probably flee the country. After all, it is murder.”

“I see.”

‘Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know. I am supposed to learn the manners and customs of the nobility, am I not?”

“That’s a morbid one.”

“I have noticed that many customs end in morbidity.”

“Ah,” she mocked, “you are becoming quite observant.”

I tried to put the matter from my mind and to tell myself how foolish I was to be involved with a man whom I had met only twice, though they had been two unusual occasions-one when he had saved me from a horrible fate and the other when he had challenged a man to a duel.

How I wished that Bersaba was with me so that I could tell her of my feelings. I wondered when my mother would suggest that I return. She would need me to nurse Bersaba, to be with her perhaps. She had said in her letter that it would be a long time before she was herself again and had hinted that the disease was still in the village and that she did not want me to return until the neighborhood was, as she called it, clean again.

I thought that if General Richard Tolworthy were killed or fled abroad I would like to go home without delay. Then I could put the whole London adventure behind me and look back on it as something rather unreal.

However, a week after the ball Richard Tolworthy called at the house. By great good fortune Senara had gone to say good-bye to neighbors, for she was leaving the following week. Carlotta had accompanied her, and Sir Gervaise was at Whitehall. The General was apparently making a conventional call on Sir Gervaise, and when he was told that he was not at home he asked if I were.

As a result I was receiving him in the parlor which led from the hall, and floods of joy swept over me when I saw that he was neither maimed nor had the look of a fugitive.

“I was hoping that I might have a word with you,” he said, “because you were so concerned on the night of the ball.”

“Indeed I was. I could not understand what had happened so suddenly and why it should be a matter of life and death.”

“I had no alternative in the circumstances but to deliver the challenge. However, it was not taken up. I received an apology. The offending words were retracted and so we did not meet.”

“I am so pleased. It was wise of him.”

“He is a Puritan at heart and doesn’t believe in shedding blood.”

“Then I think there is a great deal to be said for Puritanism.”

He smiled at me. “You were really anxious, I know.”

“Oh, I was. I thought you would be killed or perhaps kill him and have to go into exile.”

“I am grateful for your concern.”

“But of course I’m concerned. Didn’t you save me?”

“That was nothing.”

I just could not help showing my relief and I think he was very pleased. He talked for some time asking me more questions about my home. He wanted to know how long I was staying in London, and when I told him that I might be leaving at any time and that it would depend on my sister’s health and when the plague vanished from the neighborhood, he listened very intently.

Then he said, “I hope you will stay a long while. Or do you get a little homesick?”

“I was at first. Now I am not sure. There is so much of interest here.”

“Encounters with beggars, duels?” he suggested.

“And meeting interesting people,” I told him.

“There must be interesting people whom you meet in your home.”

“Yes,” I admitted, “but... different.”

And I thought then, “I have never met anyone like you.” I knew then that as long as I lived I never would.

When he left he took my hand in his and kissed it.

He said, “I shall call again.”

I watched him ride away and then I went up to my room because I wanted to be alone to think about him. If I had to return to Cornwall now, how should I feel? I should be wretched. Wretched to go to my beloved home, to see my dearest mother and the sister who was part of myself! What had happened to me? I half suspected that, in my impulsive thoughtless way, I was in love with Richard Tolworthy.