“Yes, and now all I do is go to dinner parties, and do the tango. Fascinating how useful an education is.” But Sarah already knew he did more than that. He ran his estates, the very profitable farm, and was active in the House of Lords; he travelled, he was well-read, and he was still fascinated by politics. He was an interesting man, and Sarah hated to admit to herself that she liked everything about him. She even liked his mother. And his mother seemed enchanted by Sarah.
The three of them went for a long walk in the gardens in the afternoon, and Annabelle Whitfield told Sarah all about her childhood in Cornwall, as well as her visits to her maternal grandparents in France, and their summers in Deauville. “Sometimes I really miss it,” she confessed with a nostalgic smile at the two young people.
“We were just there in July. It’s still lovely.” Sarah smiled back at her.
“I’m glad to hear that. I haven’t been back in fifty years now.” She smiled at her son. “Once William came, I stayed home. I wanted to be with him every moment, hovering over him, marvelling at his every word and sound. It almost killed me when the poor child went to Eton. I tried to convince George to keep him here with me, with a tutor, but he insisted, and I suppose it was just as well. It would have been too boring for him at home, with his old mother.” She looked at him lovingly and he kissed her cheek.
“It was never boring at home with you, Mother, and you know it. I adored you. And still do.”
“Foolish boy.” She smiled, always happy to hear it.
They left Whitfield late in the afternoon, and the duchess asked Sarah to come back and see her again before she left England. “Perhaps after your trip to Italy, my dear. I would love to hear all about it when you get back to London.”
“I’d love to come and see you.” Sarah smiled at her. She had had a lovely time, and she and William chatted about it on the way back to London. “She’s wonderful.” Sarah smiled at him, thinking about the things his mother had said. She had been welcoming and warm, and sincerely interested in Sarah.
“She is wonderful, isn’t she? She hasn’t got a mean bone in her body. I’ve never seen her angry at anyone, except perhaps me”—he laughed at the memories—“or unkind, or speak to anyone in the heat of anger. And she absolutely adored my father, and he her. It’s a shame you couldn’t meet him, too, but I’m awfully glad you had the time to come and meet my mother.” The look in his eyes said something more to her, but Sarah pretended to ignore it. She didn’t dare allow herself to feel any closer to him than she already did.
“I’m glad that you brought me,” Sarah said softly.
“So was she. She really liked you.” He glanced over at her, touched by how frightened she was.
“She would have really loved me if she knew I was divorced, wouldn’t she?” Sarah said ruefully as he skillfully handled a sharp turn in the road in his Bugatti.
“I don’t think she’d mind at all, you know,” he said honestly.
“Well, I’m glad you decided not to test that.” She smiled again, relieved. But he couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her.
“I thought you were going to tell her at lunch.”
“I forgot. I’ll do it next time. I promise,” Sarah teased him back.
“Capital. She’ll be excited to hear it.” They laughed and enjoyed each other’s company for the rest of the trip home, and he left her at the hotel with regret. That evening she was dining with her parents and their friends. But William had insisted on seeing Sarah the next day, first thing in the morning.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” She teased him again as he asked her, while they stood in front of Claridge’s, looking Wee two very happy, windblown young lovers.
“Not this week. I want to spend every moment I can with you, until you leave for Rome. Unless you have an objection.” She thought she should object, for his sake, but she really didn’t want to. He was too appealing and his lures were too strong.
“Hyde Park then, tomorrow morning? And then the National Gallery, a short drive to Richmond after that, and a walk in Kew Gardens. And lunch at the Berkeley Hotel.” He had it all planned, and she laughed at him. She didn’t care where they went, just so she could be with him. She was getting swept up in being with him constantly, and in spite of all her fears of their getting too involved, she found herself swept along in the excitement of being with him. He was difficult to resist, but they’d be gone soon anyway. And then she would have to force herself to forget him. But what harm was there in a little happiness for a few days? Why not, after all the time she’d spent alone for the past year, and the miserable year she’d spent before that.
For the rest of their time in London, William went almost everywhere with them. He had an occasional business meeting that couldn’t be postponed, now and then, but for the most part he was at their disposal. He and Edward had lunch together at White’s, William’s club, on their last day in town.
“Was it fun?” Sarah asked her father when he returned.
“William was very kind. And it’s a marvelous club.” But it wasn’t the atmosphere or the food he had liked most about the lunch, it was the man, and what he had said to him. “He’s taking us all out to dinner tonight, and then he’s taking you dancing. I imagine Italy will be awfully quiet for you without him, after all this,” he said seriously, anxious to see her expression when she answered.
“Well, I’ll get used to that, won’t I?” she said firmly. “This has been fun, and he’s awfully kind, but it can’t go on forever.” She hugged her father and left the room, and that night they all went to the Savoy Grill for dinner. William was charming company, as usual, and Sarah was in good form too. And after dinner, they dropped off her parents at the hotel, and went on to the Four Hundred Club for the promised dancing.
But she was quiet in his arms tonight, despite all her attempts at gaiety before that. It was easy to see how sad she already was, and finally they went back to their table, and held hands as they talked quietly long into the night.
“Will it be as hard for you next week as it will for me?” he asked her, and she nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Sarah.” They had grown so close to each other in these few short weeks. It still amazed both of them that they had become so close so quickly. William was still trying to absorb it. He’d never known or loved anyone like her.
“You’ll find something else to do.” She smiled valiantly. “Maybe you’ll just have to get a job as a guide at the British Museum or the Tower of London.”
“What a good idea!” he teased, and then put an arm around her shoulder and held her close. “I shall miss you terribly for the next three weeks, and then you’ll have such a short time back in London. Barely a week.” The thought of it saddened him. She nodded silently. She wished a great many things, that they had met years before, that she were English, that there had never been a Freddie. But wishing wouldn’t change anything, and she had to brace herself to leave now. It was so hard to do, so hard to imagine not seeing him day after day, laughing and teasing, and taking her to new places, or to meet his friends, or even to see the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London, or visit his mother at Whitfield, or simply to sit somewhere quietly and talk.
“Maybe you’ll come to New York one day,” she said wistfully, knowing that it wasn’t very likely. And even if he did, his visit would be too short.
“I might!” He gave her a brief ray of hope. “If we don’t get ourselves into trouble in Europe. The ‘supreme leader’ in Germany might make transatlantic travel difficult one of these days, you never know.” He was convinced there would be a war eventually, and Edward Thompson didn’t disagree with him. “Perhaps I should plan to come before that.” But Sarah knew that seeing William in New York was a distant dream, one that would probably never come. It was time to say good-bye now, and she knew it. Even if she saw him again when she got back from Italy, by then things would already be different between them. They had to take their distance from each other now, and resume their own lives.