The Sword and the Scythe

Chapter 23: Sarah Smiles

1906

Leroy stood in the garden, twirling his father's ugly ring on his finger, watching Thomas practice his polo playing. His friend was spectacularly terrible, but Leroy couldn't help but admire his persistence. The afternoon sun glinted off the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his blonde curls seeming to droop of exhaustion. Sarah came out from the house carrying a tray of drinks. The second Thomas spotted her he rode over, leaping off his horse to grab a drink and smile at her.

"Good afternoon, Master Thomas. Leroy," she said, blushing.

Leroy grabbed one of the drinks and held it up as a greeting to her.

"Sarah, were you able to see any of my polo practice? I am getting better."

"Oh yes. This time he managed to get near the ball," Leroy added, smiling as Thomas shot him a look.

"I'm sorry to say that I did not see any of it."

He reached out and took her hand. "Then please stay for a few more minutes and watch."

"I'm sorry but there are many things I must attend to today."

"Tell Mrs. Todd that I asked you to stay. She can't object to that."

"Believe me, she can. I am sorry, Master Thomas. Enjoy your polo."

She left with a lingering glance at Leroy.

Thomas threw himself on one of the chairs, the pain of rejection written all over his face. "I am getting nowhere with her."

"You aren't supposed to be getting anywhere with her," Leroy said, taking an uneasy seat in the chair across from him. "You're supposed to be progressing at polo."

Thomas rolled his eyes and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. He shook his glass, swirling the liquid around. "Leroy, I cannot help it if I love her."

Leroy closed his eyes, trying to keep Thomas from seeing him wince. He should have seen the signs earlier—Thomas' moony-eyed glances at Sarah, his constant need to impress her. If he was a better friend, he would have recognized Thomas' feelings at once.

"I know that, but you must try. She is part of your household staff and far below your station. Sarah is not a suitable bride for you, even if you werein a position to marry. Which, may I remind you, you are not."

Thomas loosened his tie and leaned back. "What if she is beneath my station? Why should that matter?"

"You have always been naïve, Thomas, but do try not to be stupid."

"Must you always be so blunt? Don't you think there is even a slight of possibility of things working for us? Is there not a single romantic bone in your body?"

Leroy finished his drink and stood instead of answering. "Go back to your polo. I'll start packing for tomorrow."

"I don't want to go back to school. I am so tired of having to be swept along in my father's plans. When will I get a say if I cannot even choose my own wife?"

"Your father cares about you; he just wants your life to be the one he thinks you deserve."

Thomas still looked dejected but stood and went back to his practice. Leroy stayed a few moments longer to watch as his friend's strong muscled frame took expert control of his horse, even if he still hadn't mastered the game itself. Sweat had soaked through the white linen shirt just enough that the fabric had begun to cling to Thomas' abdominal muscles.

Leroy caught himself staring and shook off his damning thoughts with a decisive turn back to the house. He took the steps back into the house two and a time. He'd grown used to seeing the lavish interior of the manor in the last seven years so that now it no longer took his breath away. Weaving his way through the servant's passages, he reached Thomas' quarters, and pulled out the trunk from storage to start packing his friend's things.