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“Is that really how you see us?” Sarah asked sadly.

Robert’s expression softened. “I’m not sure about you,” he said. “I find it difficult to believe that you ever worked on the stage—”

Sarah chuckled. “Because I’m such an unglossy individual?”

He hesitated, then he said curtly, “You don’t pretend.” He stood up and stretched himself. “I must go. Shall I give you a hand upstairs, Mr. Blaney? This sudden change in the weather has made us all sleepy, I’m afraid.”

Sarah was grateful to him for his easy way of dealing with her father. She waited downstairs, listening to the sounds above as Robert helped her father into bed. Robert’s hearty laughter warmed her, especially when her father’s breathless chuckle joined in. She went to the foot of the stairs, wondering what on earth they could be doing, and found to her consternation that they were discussing her.

“You’re a poor man if all you want is a pretty face,” her father was saying.

“I’m not such a fool. What I do want is to know what lies beneath the face. A pretty face won’t last a lifetime. Does any actress want a husband, home, and children, if they interfere with her career?”

“Sarah has always wanted a loving home,” Daniel replied. “Unfortunately, I was never able to give her one. She’s been on her own, living in digs, earning her own living without any support from either her stepmother or me, ever since she was seventeen. She deserves a little-kindness—”

Sarah tiptoed away, not wanting to hear any more. She didn’t want Robert’s kindness, or anything like it. That was the trouble, she wanted nothing less than Robert himself.

Her stepmother arrived just before lunch that Sunday. Sarah thought she looked tired and worried and did her best to cosset her all afternoon, not that Madge seemed to notice, but then she hardly had a word to say to her husband either. By teatime, Sarah was in despair at pleasing her with anything.

“How’s the show going?” she asked. “We haven’t heard much about it recently.”

Madge Dryden shrugged delicately. “It’s terrible, but they won’t take it off all the while the coach trade keeps coming.” She eyed her stepdaughter through narrowed eyes. “I hear Alec Farne came down to see you and that you didn’t make him very welcome. I hope you’re not becoming too much of a country bumpkin?”

“I like it here,” Sarah admitted.

"Yes, well, I’ve been thinking that you ought to have a little break now and then before all your friends in London think you’ve forgotten all about them. Why don’t you go up next week-end? I’ll hold the fort for you here.”

Sarah tried not to look surprised. “I haven’t many friends in London,” she objected. “Nobody who’d want to be bothered on a Sunday night,” she added. London seemed suddenly very far away and the thought of leaving Chaddoxboume even for one night filled her with dismay.

“Alec Farne would like to see you,” her stepmother said.

“Alec? He only wanted to talk me into taking the part in his play.” Sarah stirred restively. “As a matter of fact, we quarrelled. I don’t like him much—”

“My dear, one neither has to like or dislike people like Alec! One
cultivates
them!”

“Does one?” Sarah asked, amused. “I don’t think I want to see Alec again.”

“But you must! You won’t be here for ever, darling! What are you going to do then? If you think you can ignore people with as much influence in the theatre as Alec Farne, you’ll stay in rep for the rest of your life!”

Sarah blinked, trying to find the courage to tell her stepmother how she really felt. “I may not go back to the theatre,” she burst out.

“What?”

“I
like
living in the country,” Sarah went on apologetically.

Madge was silent for a long, pregnant moment. “I’m beginning to think it was all a horrible mistake sending you down here! Alec said you had been rather unfriendly, but I didn’t pay much attention. Now I’m beginning to see what he meant! However you feel about the country, why be unpleasant to him? He was very much hurt by your attitude. I’ll tell him you’re coming to London next Sunday and you can apologise to him then. He’s fond of you, so he’ll probably forgive you, which is more than you deserve—”

“I don’t think it would work, Mother.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Sarah! Really, you’re quite impossible! No, don’t tell me what you quarrelled with Alec about. I don’t want to know. I’m quite sure you were in the wrong, because he’s such a reasonable person and you seem to have lost your head entirely! Live in the country indeed! What on, I should like to know? You needn’t think that I’ll subsidise you for ever!”

“I don’t,” Sarah said, sick at heart. “I have a job with Robert Chaddox that pays for my keep. If I lived here all the time, I could find something in Canterbury I expect.”

Madge looked forlorn. “I won’t hear another word! If I hear any more of this foolishness, I’ll talk to your father about it! And I shall expect you to go to London next Sunday. You can stay at the house if you want to, or anywhere else you please, but you’ll make it up with Alec, or I’ll know the reason why. Is that quite clear, Sarah?

Sarah nodded dismally. At the sound of her stepmother’s car drawing up in the drive, her father’s face had changed to an ashen grey and the awful, forced breathing had begun again. How could she allow Madge to worry him now over her future, or anything else? She couldn’t do it. She would have to go to London and explain it to Alec. There was always the chance that he would understand and leave her alone, without trying to kiss her again, or to make her change her mind and go back to the London stage.

The hours dragged by until Madge left to go back to London. Sarah felt guilty when she finally waved her goodbye and knew that she was glad to see her go. They had never had a great deal in common, but she had always been conscious of loving her stepmother before, especially as she had no memories of her own mother with which to compare her. Now, for the first time, she felt only a grudging worry that her father should look so tired. And that was absolutely all.

She stood by the gate for a long time after Madge had driven away. The garden was looking all the better for the rain they had had recently. Some nasturtiums she had put in were running completely wild, a mass of yellows and oranges, and even one or two in a peculiar shade of brown. Then there were tobacco plants and a sweet-smelling mock orange, as well as the usual asters, snapdragons, and geraniums. Sarah found she had quite a pride of possession in the garden now, and enjoyed the earnest discussions she shared from time to time with Robert’s gardener.

“Hullo there!” Robert said from the other side of the gate. “You’re looking pensive!”

Sarah started and smiled, very pleased to see him. “I was taking myself to task for not being better natured,” she confessed. “It’s too nice a place to be small-minded in.”

Robert’s eyebrows rose quizzically. “What are you being small-minded about?”

“My stepmother wants me to go up to London next week-end.”

“And you don’t want to go?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t any ties in London— except Alec. And I don’t much want to see him.”

“I see,” Robert said slowly. “May I ask why?”

She stooped to pick out a weed, uncomfortably aware that she was blushing. “You yourself said I ought to sort out my friendship with him,” she reminded him.

“Perhaps this is your opportunity?”

“I don’t think so. Alec doesn’t believe in being just good friends with any female.” She sighed. “But I shall have to go, or Mother will have a long heart-to-heart with my father and he isn’t strong enough to stand it just now.”

She glanced up at Robert and was surprised to see he was smiling. “I don’t think much of platonic friendships myself,” he said. His smile turned into a laugh. “Now what in the world is there to blush about in that?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, more confused than ever.

“Sarah, will you come in to Canterbury tomorrow evening and have dinner with me? I’d ask you up to the Manor, but Neil is always there, and this time I want you to myself!”

“Why?” Sarah asked baldly.

His smile was very intimate. "Why? To make you blush again, of course! Will you come?”

Excitement sang in her veins, depriving her of speech. She nodded soberly, while the rich colour flooded up into her cheeks.

“Come on the bus,” Robert instructed her. “I’d prefer you to arrive in one piece, and I want to drive you home myself.”

Sarah laughed. “I can drive quite well,” she told him.

“Not when you’re in a dither, my love!” His eyes twinkled irresistibly at her indignation. “As you will be by the time I’ve finished with you!” he added, and leaning forward he kissed her softly on the cheek. “Come to my office at half-past six and we’ll start from there.”

And she was in a dither, long before she ran down the road to catch the bus the next evening. She had tried on and discarded two dresses before she settled for one in old rose silk, with matching shoes and bag. With it she wore a white crocheted cape, that her father had given her, and it was to him that she turned to make sure that she was looking her best before she set out.

“Mrs. Vidler is going to look in later on,” she told him. “You’ll be all right, won’t you?”

“I feel fine!” her father assured her. “You go out and enjoy yourself.” He acknowledged her kiss with a puckish smile. “Robert knows how to bring out the beauty in my daughter! I’ve never seen you with such a glow, my dear. Don’t keep him waiting!”

Sarah hovered beside his chair. “You do like him, don’t you?” she brought out in a rush.

Daniel picked up the book he was reading with an air of decision. "Yes, my dear, I do. And now will you please go!”

She went. The bus was a few minutes late, which gave her time to worry about her appearance and whether she had chosen the right dress after all. Just as she was thinking of hurrying home and changing yet again, however, the bus trundled into view and she stepped on board, paying her fare to the waiting driver with shaking fingers.

Once in Canterbury, she found Robert’s offices easily. The reception desk was empty, the typewriter hidden beneath its cover, giving it a deserted appearance. Sarah glanced through the few ancient farming magazines that lay on a table between some hard-looking chairs and tried to control the effervescent emotions that betrayed her usual calm. She had worse stage fright than she had ever had before and she tried all the cures that had ever been offered to her before—little tricks of the trade like breathing exercises, sorting out the contents of her handbag, even, in despair, reciting poetry to herself like a lunatic.

She was painstakingly running through a chunk of
Hamlet
, when Robert came and found her. Sarah clutched her handbag to her, spilling most of its contents on to the floor, and, with a startled gasp, she bent down hastily to pick the things up, colliding with Robert who was bent on the same mission as herself.

“I-I’m sorry!”

He was very close to her. If he turned his head their lips would meet. Her breath caught painfully in her chest.

“I knew you’d be in a dither,” he said.

“Oh!” She bent her head quickly, searching for the elusive objects with a reckless energy that sent them far and wide.

Robert put a hand under either elbow and lifted her to her feet, pushing her gently back on the nearest chair. “Sit there,” he bade her. “I’ll pick them up/’ He did so, examining her flapjack, with its unusual pattern on the top, spelling out her initials, before dropping it into her bag. When he had done, he looked up at her and smiled, his eyes very grey. “You’d better see if everything’s there.”

She swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away from his. She held out a hand for her bag, but he went on holding it himself. “You’d only drop it again,” he said against her lips. “Darling Sarah, have you ever been in love before?”

She shook her head as his arms tightened about her, “Not even with Alec?” he queried.

“N-no.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

She shut her eyes. “I’m quite, quite sure,” she told him.

“Because I won’t be played with, Sarah. If we go on from here, I want to know that I have all your heart. It won’t be a stop-gap arrangement between other interests, to fill in during the time you find yourself at Chaddoxboume, so don’t say yes unless you mean it. I think you’re honest, but I’ve known too many people falter and break up because one or other of them has been lost when transplanted into another background. You won’t have the theatre or your family to run home to every time something goes wrong between us.” He touched her cheek with a stem finger. “Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll wait for your answer.”

“But I don’t want to wait!”

“Nevertheless, I’m not going to kiss you until after we’ve eaten, entrancing prospect as it is. I want you to think about it when your wits aren’t scattered to the four winds and your heart isn’t scudding like a mad thing against mine.”

“Oh, Robert,” she protested. “I haven’t much guile, have I?”

“I hope not.”

She pulled herself free of his arms, smoothing down her hair to give her hands something to do. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” She glanced at him shyly. “I wish I were prettier and had more to offer you,” she added, and then blushed.

His smile was very tender. “You’re not a conventional beauty, but your face is never dull!” he teased her. “Never play poker, my pet. You look as though you’ve just won a million dollars, and I haven’t even started on you yet!”

Her eyes misted over and a smile trembled on her lips. “What’s a million dollars?” she demanded. “I— I—” She broke off, unable to continue. “Robert, I think I’m going to cry!”

“Cheer up,” he responded. “You’ll feel better when you’ve got some food inside you. Shall we drive out into the country?”

She didn’t care where they went. Clutching Robert’s hand, she followed him out into the sun-filled street, hardly aware of the amused look in his eyes as he handed her into the car. He took her to Chilham, one of the loveliest villages in Kent, though Sarah told herself that she preferred Chaddoxboume even though it hadn’t quite as many old timbered houses. There was a new restaurant that had recently opened near the square where they served old-fashioned country dishes and had a wine list that vied with some of the larger restaurants in London.