"Ouch!" Jennifer Morland yelped and yanked her hand back from the bookshelf as if it had been bitten. The books she'd been shelving had tipped over and one had landed soundly on her fingertips. "I love books, but why do they have to be so heavy?"
She glanced at her sore fingers, judged that she'd only been stung rather than injured, and set back to work. Her spectacles had slipped; she pushed them back up into place and went on with the shelving. An assistant librarian's job was never done, particularly given that the head librarian was eighty-two and in ill health. Miss Clairville's position was more of a sinecure and thanks for over forty years of service to the Manderley Abbey Seminary for Young Ladies than an actual duty; for all intents and purposes the library was Jennifer's to maintain.
Jennifer was proud of the job she did, too. While Manderley Abbey could and did serve as a girls' finishing school, there was much more to it. The courses of study offered to its students, which ranged in age from ten to twenty, were not limited to etiquette, deportment, art, and music but included history, literature, mathematics, languages, and the sciences. A Manderley graduate could, if she wanted, proceed to any university knowing that she was fit for any course of study she might pursue. Times were changing, and opportunities were becoming available for women than had never existed before. It was less than a decade to the twentieth century, after all! England could not go on ignoring half its population forever.
A soft chime caught her attention; it was the front desk bell and Jennifer hurried over. A handful of girls waited there, dressed in their uniforms of crisp white shirtwaist and navy blue skirt.
"May I help you?"
"Yes, Miss Morland," said the lead girl. Like her friends, she was around fifteen. "I have a research paper due for Ancient History, and Miss Scott recommended these books." She passed Jennifer a note.
"That should be all right," Jennifer said, glancing down the list. "There are a couple of these kept in the stacks; I'll fetch them out for you."
She turned and went back into the shelves and the girls fell to gossiping among themselves. Jennifer was about to lose herself in the task when a chance phrase caught her ear.
"--the Marquis of Rosemont's daughter--"
Jennifer's breath caught in her throat and she froze in place.
"That's right; they say she's coming here to start the fall term."
Wait, no, Jennifer thought. That can't be right.
"Well, it's no surprise, really," one of the other girls said.
"Oh, I know Manderley Abbey is well-regarded, but they're one of the highest families in Society. Why would they pick a school like this one?"
"I don't know what made them pick it, but his older daughter already attended here, so it follows the family would send the younger as well."
Oh, they're talking about Lady Emily. I should have known. Jennifer sighed with mingled emotions, relief combined with a hint of disappointment, and was about to move on, but the girls kept talking.
"No, really? Lady Sarafine Carwell attended Manderley?"
"Of course."
"You're bamming me, Colleen."
"I am not. It was one of the reasons Mama picked Manderley Abbey for me to attend. She hoped I'd make all sorts of friends with people like Lady Sarafine so they would vault us up in Society. You know how Mama is, Becky."
"That's true enough. But I can scarcely believe it. The Silver Rose, here?"
"She'd have graduated three years ago, before her first Season. Why don't you ask Miss Morland? They'd have been students at the same time."
"No, really? Miss Morland knew Lady Sarafine?"
"She could have. They'd be the same age."
"Why do they call Lady Sarafine the Silver Rose?" another of the girls interjected.
"Well, 'Rose' is from her family's title, of course, and 'Silver'--"
--is from her hair, Jennifer finished mentally. Beautiful, shining platinum blonde hair that was so pale it almost did look silver in anything less than full daylight. She remembered how it would shine when Sarafine would brush it out at night, how she'd envied it compared to her own muddy-brown locks.
"I think you're making it all up. She can't have been such a beauty as all that. She's not even married yet? If she's rich and beautiful, why wouldn't she have an offer after three Seasons?"
"Oh, don't be a looby, Diane," said the one named Becky. "Even I know that Lady Sarafine's had a dozen offers at least, and she's turned every one of them down flat. They say the Comte de Langois was so despondent over her refusal that he threatened suicide--and she turned down the Duke of Bradmont's heir, and Sir Vincent Tremaine--"
"The explorer?"
"The same."
"Oh, I've seen his picture. He's so handsome, and he's done such exciting things!" Colleen sighed. "I'd marry him in a minute if he asked me."
"Me, too--say, I wonder what happened to Miss Morland? She's been gone an awfully long time."
Jennifer's cheeks flushed, and she quickly snatched down the books the girl needed.
"I'm sorry it took so long," she said, rushing back to the desk. "If you'd just sign the cards here...and here..."
"Thank you," the girl said, deftly wielding her pen in a fashion Miss Babcock, the grammar and writing instructress, would have approved. She picked up her books, then glanced up at the wall clock. "Oh! It's almost lunchtime. We'd better hurry."
"I still don't see why Lady Sarafine would turn down so many fine offers. Is she holding out for a prince?"
"My sister says that Lady Sarafine fell in love with someone horribly unsuitable, and if she can't have him she won't have anyone else."
"How romantic!"
"It sounds silly to me."
"That's because you've never been in love, Regina. If you had, you'd know. It cuts right to the heart, and you're never the same again."
They wandered out, still chattering away, leaving Jennifer alone once more. She absently shuffled the cards between her fingers, thinking how right that last comment had been.
Miss Peregrine, the headmistress of Manderley Abbey Seminary, smiled at Lady Emily Carwell.
"You can't imagine how pleased we are that your parents have selected our school for your finishing education. That your sister's experiences were such that Lord and Lady Rosemont chose to have you follow in her footsteps is the highest possible recommendation. I find it most gratifying."
"Sara always sings your praises," Lady Emily remarked. "I daresay she preferred her school days to her Seasons."
"Imp," Lady Sarafine said affectionately. The "Silver Rose" had escorted her sister on her orientation visit, since a sixteen-year-old lady could hardly be expected to travel alone. "I can't deny that it's true, however. Miss Peregrine...do you think I might be allowed to tour the campus, to revisit some of my haunts and so on? You probably don't want me underfoot, prosing on about my school days and generally getting in your way."
Miss Peregrine peered closely at Sara through her lorgnette.
"There's no use trying any of your famous charm on me, young lady. You just want to prowl around on your own."
Sarafine grinned.
"Of course I do," she agreed. "Is it all right?"
"Yes, go on, you scamp. Just be back by four in order to escort your sister back."
"Thank you." Sarafine rose.
"Good luck," her sister called, Emily's impish grin a mirror of Sarafine's own.
The wind blew up, tugging at the strands of curling hair that had, inevitably, escaped Jennifer's pins. The abbey had been built on a hill, back in the day when it was an abbey, and it made for a nearly constant breeze. It was the lunch hour, but instead of the dining hall Jennifer's feet carried her almost inevitably to the clock tower.
It was a free-standing building at the eastern edge of the abbey grounds, just beyond the stand of apple trees they half-jestingly called an orchard. In truth, it had nothing to do with the school's pre-Tudor religious history; it was an early eighteenth-century folly built by Sir Josiah Manderley as a present to his bride, who'd conceived an affection for such things during their wedding trip on the Continent.
Jennifer hadn't intended to come this way, not consciously. She'd just been thinking of Sarafine, and her feet had chosen their own path. It wasn't until Jennifer found herself face-to-face with the arched wooden door in the stone facade that she realized she'd been lost in a mental fog since leaving the library, and where she'd been brought.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! she shouted inwardly. Why was she doing this to herself? I haven't seen Sara in three years! Isn't that long enough to forget?
Apparently, it was not.
She'd always thought of it as their last day together, though it wasn't literally the case--it had been another month until the end of the term and graduation, when Sara could no longer duck the social obligations of a marquis' daughter and Jennifer had accepted Miss Peregrine's offer of a post at the school. *Something had changed, though, and though they saw one another there was always a distance between them. No, that late-April day had been the end of it, the death of a four-year friendship between them.
It had been late in the evening, after the dinner hour but before lights-out. The air had been warm with the promise of summer and sweetly scented by apple blossoms tossed in the breeze.
Jennifer panted for breath, trying to draw in air.
"Did we...have to...run all the way, Sara?" she asked plaintively.
Sara only chuckled. Not even winded, the tall, lithe blonde was much more adept at sports and games than she was. Just one more thing that made them such a mismatched pair: the princess and the mouse.
"Oh, Jennifer," she sighed, still smiling.
"What?"
"You look so cute like that."
Jennifer blushed.
"Like what?"
Sara reached out and plucked one long curl away from the side of Jennifer's face.
"With your hair half-down despite yourself. It's so endearing."
Jennifer felt her face growing hotter. Really, sometimes Sara could be so ridiculous with her compliments. What could possibly be cute or endearing about hair that didn't stay where it was supposed to be? It didn't make sense.
The clock chimed once above them, ringing out the half-hour.
"I know it isn't part of the original, historical abbey, but I'm glad Sir Josiah had it built," Jennifer said, quickly changing the subject to anything besides herself. "It's really useful for the school."
"There you go, talking like it's your school already. You've made up your mind to stay on after graduation, haven't you?"
Jennifer nodded.
"I have."
"I thought you would. But you'd better practice being more confident, if you're going to be a good teacher."
"I'm not going to teach; I'm going to be the librarian."
"Old Clairy does need an assistant," Sara agreed, then looked assessingly at Jennifer. "You'll do a good job at it," she said, almost as if she was the one hiring. "You love books, and you're the most orderly, organized person I know. I don't think I could have ever kept my class schedule straight without your help every year."
Jennifer smiled. "Oh! Remember when you'd signed up for sketching and piano in the same hour?"
Groaning, Sara said, "I know. You'd think that since I'm good at math I should know that I can't be in two places at once."
She looked up at the clock face, her smile fading into a pensive, almost worried look.
"There's a story about this clock tower, you know."
"What, that silly legend about a kiss or something? I never paid any attention." It isn't like anyone is lining up to kiss me, anyway.
"They say that if a couple confesses their love for one another and kiss under the clock tower, then they'll always be brought back together no matter how far they may be separated."
"You don't really believe that."
"It's too romantic not to believe."
"Since when are you the romantic one?" Jennifer was the one who always had her nose buried in a love story; Sara was much more practical. "Society is too hard and ruthless for romantic illusions," she'd always say.
"Maybe I'm coming around to your way of thinking."
"So is that why you brought me out here? To tell me a story?"
Sara shook her head.
"I...we've been friends for years, haven't we? Ever since I first came here and we were assigned to share a dormitory room?"
"Of course!" Jennifer said at once.
"But in a month, that's all going to change. We'll graduate, and we'll go our separate ways, and except for letters we won't see or talk to each other." She turned directly to face the other girl. "I didn't want to risk leaving something unsaid, even if perhaps it would be better I did."
"Sara?"
She reached out suddenly, and took Jennifer's hand.
"I..." she began, then let her voice trail off, the words not coming. There was such an intensity in her expression that it was almost frightening. "I don't think--you aren't just a friend to me."
Then, in the next instant her other hand was on Jennifer's shoulder, and her head dipped, and her mouth was warm and sweet on Jennifer's own. For a moment Jennifer stood stunned, unresisting, bewildered. Is she...? Does this mean...?
In the next moment, just as Jennifer was beginning to react, Sara pulled back, breaking the stolen kiss, her face just inches away. Jennifer's lips tingled, the cool night air stealing the warmth left by Sara's kiss.
"I love you, Jennifer. I've loved you for so long, but never had the courage to tell you. I had to say it, though. I couldn't risk losing you without trying."
"You...love me?" Jennifer couldn't stop being aware of the feel of Sara's hands, though they did nothing but gently hold her. Her heart was racing.
In the next instant, she was pulling back, free of the other girl.
"No! You can't mean this--you can't do this--" she protested haltingly, backing away.
And then she turned, and ran, back through the orchard, a scared mouse running for its hole.
Sara had never said another word about it, never as much as hinted, but the closeness between them, the treasured friendship was gone. They could hardly avoid one another, sharing a room as they did, but they'd been as good as strangers. Nor had they so much as exchanged a letter since then.
So why did you freeze at the mention of her name? Jennifer said to herself. Why does the thought of seeing her make your pulse race?
She wanted to see Sara again, she admitted--or at least part of her wanted that. The other part of her was terrified. But what was there to frighten her? What about the idea scared her?
It's not just seeing her I'm afraid of. It's...it's if she--
"I thought you might be here."
Jennifer gasped, startled, and spun around.
"I checked at the library first, but when you weren't there, I came here. I don't know why, but it seemed right."
"Sara!" Jennifer gasped again; then, suddenly conscious of their positions, amended it. "I mean, Lady Sarafine."
The fair-haired woman flinched as if struck, and Jennifer wanted to scream at her own clumsiness. Of course she'd take it that way, as a slap in the face.
"I suppose I deserve that," Sara said quietly.
"No, no, I...I didn't mean it like that, Sara. I was just--I mean, I work for the school, now, and you're a client, aren't you? I've heard that you brought your sister here to be enrolled as a student?"
Sara shook her head.
"I did escort Emily here, but that's not why I came. I'd have let Mama do it, but I had something to do here, myself."
"Something to do?"
"I had to try and see you, to talk with you."
"With me?"
Sara sighed ruefully.
"You're making this as hard as possible for me, aren't you? We never really talked again, not after the last time we were here at this spot together."
"No, we didn't," Jennifer agreed.
Sara nodded.
"I...wanted to say that I was sorry."
Jennifer's heart was in her throat. This was it, then. This was what she was afraid of.
Please, just come out and say it, she begged silently, unable to speak out loud.
"I'm sorry that I forced my feelings on you. I'm sorry that I acted that way without thinking what it would mean to you or how it would make you feel. I was only thinking of myself, of how we were about to be separated by our lives. I was selfish, and I'm so sorry for it. But I swear to you, Jennifer, that I was never playing any kind of game. What I said...I really did mean it. I do love you. I did then and I do now. I probably always will. I just hope you can forgive me for--"
"Stop it!" Jennifer shouted, throwing up her hands. "Just...stop it, Sara."
There were tears in her eyes, now, making her vision as blurry as if she'd left off her spectacles. But Sara stopped, just like she'd asked, and Jennifer felt like her heart was about to burst. It was three years ago all over again. She was terrified, caught up in a whirlwind of all the fears, doubts and feelings that possessed her. She wanted to run and hide and curl up someplace safe, someplace warm and protected where she wouldn't have to face these difficult decisions.
Running away hadn't done that, though. It had only left a gaping hole in her emotions. There was only one time in her life since her childhood when she really had felt that way. Moreover, it was her own fault that she'd lost it. She'd thrown it away, out of fear and doubt, because she'd been scared.
In the next instant she'd flung her arms around Sara, her head against the taller woman's shoulder, sobbing out her worries.
"J-Jennifer?" Sara stammered, taken aback.
"I'm such a fool!" Jennifer cried. "You were so brave, to tell me what you felt, and I didn't even notice! I didn't even think about what it was costing you." She fisted her hands in Sara's jacket, no doubt utterly ruining the line of it. "And--and I ran like the scared mouse I was because I didn't have your courage!"
"Jennifer, of course you'd be afraid when another girl, someone you thought was your closest friend, says something like that."
"No, no, that's not it at all!" She looked up at Sara, forced herself to meet her eyes. "When I saw--when I saw you today, I was terrified. I was so sc-scared," she forced the words out, "that you'd come to take it back, to say that you didn't love me, that it had all been a joke, or that there was someone else. I thought that it was too late, that I'd lost you forever."
Slowly, Sara's arms closed around her, holding her close.
"My love has always been yours for the taking. I just didn't think you wanted it."
Jennifer sniffled; crying always made her nose run.
"I think I've loved you since the day we were introduced. You were so beautiful and confident and kind--and you took an interest in me--plain, mousy little Jennifer Morland. It seemed like a miracle that we could even be friends; when you kissed me, I couldn't believe it. You were meant for a prince or a fairy-tale knight."
Sara gently stroked Jennifer's hair, and chuckled dryly.
"I'm fairly certain that I wasn't meant for a prince, Jennifer, or anything else male."
Jennifer flushed at Sara's plain speaking.
"Well...well, a princess, then. Not a librarian!"
"Don't be silly. Money and position--those are an accident of birth, nothing more. Certainly, they're nothing that I did. And as for the rest of it, you're the cutest, sweetest girl I've ever met. You have a wickedly clever sense of humor when you want to use it. I could always spend hours just talking with you about everything and nothing, the way I couldn't with anyone else, not even my family. I've missed that so much over the past three years, having someone I didn't have to be 'the Silver Rose' for, someone who liked me, not my face or my money. And as for beauty, if you ever wore something fashionable and flattering instead of those horrid schoolteacher's outfits, anyone could see that you have the figure of a 'pocket Venus,' as the gentlemen say." She chuckled dryly, then added, "On second thought, let's keep you dressed as you are, and then I won't have to spend my time chasing away rivals."
Jennifer blushed hotly. She seemed to have spent most of the conversation in a state of obvious embarrassment, but this time her cheeks were truly flaming red.
"You attract me in so many ways, Jennifer," Sara went on. "I don't ever want you thinking otherwise. The outside differences are superficial and silly. The only real difference is that you believe you're plain and mousy." She bent forward so their faces were no more than an inch apart. "That simply isn't so."
It was Jennifer who acted, then. Sara was doing it on purpose, she was sure. Holding back, even when she didn't want to, for the sake of letting Jennifer choose, to take action on her own. Jennifer reached up, cradled Sara's face between her palms, and pressed a kiss to her love's mouth. There was no girlish hesitation this time; Sara returned the kiss in warm and womanly fashion, her lips soft and hungry over Jennifer's in a way that left her no doubt that when Sara spoke of love it was in the fashion of lover to lover.
"How will we go on?" she asked when their lips parted. There was no question in her mind that they would be together now, only the mechanics of it remained. "Your family..."
Sara made a little face.
"They know what I am," she said. "I told them during this past Season, when they couldn't understand how I could turn down so many excellent matches."
"They must have been so hard for you."
She shook her head.
"No, it was hard telling you, because I cared what your response would be. For the most part it was a relief to tell them, to be free of expectations."
"What did they say?"
"Mama and Aunt Sophy called me an unnatural, perverted creature. I daresay they take it as a personal insult, as involved as they are in Society's games of matchmaking, romance, and gossip. I'm useless for the first, found the second on my own, and will give rise to nothing good for them in the third. Papa was the important one, because he controls the purse-strings."
"The Marquis...approves?"
"Oh, I'm certain that he agrees with Mama in principle, but I am, after all, only a daughter, so it does not cut close to his heart--and he is spared further expense of the Season, and of a wedding. So his disapproval is a lukewarm and absent thing at most."
"It's still sad. Don't any of them support you?"
Sara smiled.
"Emily does; even though she says she can't understand how I feel she wants me to be happy. And Derek thinks it's worth it just because it shocks Mama and Aunt Sophy. So my siblings are behind us." She chuckled softly.
"It doesn't matter, though. This is who I am, and what other people think won't change that. There's only one person for me, and that woman is you." She gently stroked Jennifer's cheek with her fingertips.
"I love you too, Sara," Jennifer said earnestly, "but I'm still a little afraid. How can we know about the future?"
Sara kissed her again, then smiled.
"Don't worry. Whatever happens, we'll be together. Besides," she added, pointing up at the clock face, "don't you remember the legend of the clock tower?"
"Sara, that's only a story."
"I don't know about that. After all, it already brought us back together once."
"That wasn't magic," Jennifer said. "That was love."
Sara smiled brightly at her.
"That's the best magic of all."