Saraband for Two Sisters

My emotions were mixed. What did the future hold, then? I knew my nature. I sometimes wished that I did not. I would have to live under the same roof with this man, and he was my sister’s husband.

He had ordered that a room he kept clear for us that we might talk. The landlord had lighted a fire because he said it grew chilly in the evenings and insisted on bringing us more of the malmsey wine, of which he was very proud, and we sat at the table.

“How glad I am that you have come,” he said. “Angelet has been pining for you. And how like her you are! I could almost believe she is sitting there now, but of course there is a difference-a great difference.”

I could not read the thoughts in his eyes; he was not a man to betray much, so I could not ascertain what sort of impact I had made on him; I was still staggering from that which he had made on me.

I watched his fingers curl about the glass-long fingers, almost artistic, strong yet delicate, not, I should have thought, the hands of the soldier. There were fine golden hairs on the backs of them, and I felt a longing to touch them. “Yes,” I said. ‘There is a great difference. My illness has left its mark on me forever.” He did not deny that he could see the pockmark. I knew that he was straightforward and would never flatter.

All he said was, “You were fortunate to recover.”

“I had expert nursing. My mother was determined that I should get well, and so was my maid.”

“Angelet has told me.”

“She must have told you a good deal about me.” I suddenly began to wonder how I appeared to Angelet, how much she knew of me. I believed I understood her through and through. Did she understand me? No, Angelet would never probe into the secret minds of those about her. She saw everything black and white, good and bad. Did she adore her General? I wondered. I thought of them together, making love.

“She told me about your illness and how you contracted it.”

I thought, “She would make me appear a heroine.” I wondered if he thought me so.

He would not for long. I could see that he was a man it would not be easy to deceive.

“I am so pleased that you have come. Angelet is a little depressed at this time.”

“Yes, the miscarriage. How ill was she?”

“Not seriously, but of course she was disappointed.”

“As you too must have been.”

“She will soon be well again. We are living quietly at the moment. My duties have taken me up to the north. The times are somewhat unsettled.” I did know that. I had always been more interested in political matters than Angelet had.

“Yes, I understand that there are elements in the country who are not pleased with the manner in which its affairs are being conducted.”

“Scotland is the trouble at the moment.”

I was glad I had been reading a great deal during my illness. “Is the King wrong, do you think, to enforce the use of the prayerbook?”

“The King is the King,” he said. “He is the ruler, and it is the duty of his subjects to accept him as such.”

“It seems strange,” I said, “that there should be revolt in the very country which nurtured his father.”

“The Stuarts are Scottish and therefore there are some English who do not care for them. And the Scots complain that the King has become too English. There have been riots up there and the fact is we do not have enough money to equip the kind of army we need to subdue Scotland.”

“And this of course gives you great concern and I doubt not takes you frequently from home.”

“Of course a soldier must always be prepared to leave his home.”

“It seems a pity to quarrel over religion.”

“Many of the wars in history have been connected with it.” I tried to talk intelligently about the affairs of the country and managed tolerably well by subtly leaving him to do the talking. All the time I was learning about him. He was not a man given to trivial conversation, but he was soon telling me about his campaigns in Spain and France, and I listened, avidly, not so much because I was interested in the manner in which battles were fought, but because I wanted to know more of him.

We talked for an hour-or rather he did and I listened; and I knew that I had made an impression, for he seemed a little surprised by himself. He said, “How knowledgeable you are of these matters. One rarely meets a woman who is.”

“I have become knowledgeable tonight,” I answered; and I did not mean only of the wars in France and Spain.

“I came to welcome you,” he said, “and to conduct you to Far Flamstead tomorrow. I had no idea that I should pass such an interesting evening. I have enjoyed it»

“It is because you find me so much like your wife.”

“No,” he said, “I find you very different. The only real likeness is in your looks.”

“We can be told apart ... now,” I said, touching the scar on my cheek.

“You have honorable battle scars,” he said. “You must wear them boldly.”

“How can I do otherwise?”

He leaned forward suddenly and said, “Let me tell you. They add an interest to your face. I am so pleased that you have come to stay with us and I hope your visit will be of long duration.”