Saving Sabine

Chapter 4

“It is springtime, once again, Lady Sabine,” Mr Rochester commented as he politely sipped his soup.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Sabine said, playing ignorant. Her mother shot her a look that seemed to say ‘don’t be rude’. She didn’t care though. “Springtime seems to happen every year, how peculiar?”

Mr Rochester didn’t seem to notice her cynicism.

“Sabine enjoys the spring weather, don’t you, Sabine?” her father prompted.

“I enjoy any weather, papa,” she replied simply. She shot an annoyed glance at her father, letting him know that she was not interested in Mr Rochester. He seemed to get the message.

“Even rain?” Mr Rochester scoffed.

“It is just another kind of weather. If we were to dismiss it then we would live inside for half the year,” she said coolly. She played with the peas that were floating in her soup, attempting to push them all to the side of the bowl instead of eating them. She wasn’t particularly hungry.

She was glad her parents weren’t encouraging conversation between herself and Mr Rochester. After a while he and Daniel talked about the business of the estate and what the investment trends were looking like for the following year. After the main course of pork arrived, Sabine really wanted to excuse herself, but she knew that would be too obviously rude. She forced herself to consume three quarters of the dish before setting it aside.

“You have not eaten much this evening, Lady Sabine,” Mr Rochester commented.

Sabine looked at Mr Rochester at that moment. He was looking at her in a way that let her know he fancied her. His pupils were dilated and his breathing was a little fast. “I’m not at all hungry,” she said quietly. “I’m feeling a little faint, actually. Papa, do you mind if I go upstairs to bed?” she asked her father, hoping he would let her retire.

Before he could answer, though, Mr Rochester interceded. “I know just the remedy for that. A turn about the grounds and some fresh air will do you the world of good, Lady Sabine. Would that be alright, Lord Southerby?” he asked her father.

Sabine prayed her father would refuse but he simply nodded. “Don’t go too far,” were is only instructions.

Sabine scowled as she rose from the table, removing the napkin that had been on her lap. She straightened out her skirt and proceeded to walk from the dining room on Mr Rochester’s arm. She hoped that once they were out of earshot that her mother would scold him.

They walked through the house and came to the back door. Mr Rochester held it open for her and then offered her his arm once again. The sun was setting fast on the Southerby estate. The night was substantially cooler and she wished that she had thought to bring a shawl or a wrap with her outside. Mr Rochester seemed oblivious to the temperature as he was buttoned up to the neck in layers consisting of a shirt, waistcoat, top coat as well as his undergarments.

“I am a lover of springtime, Lady Sabine,” Mr Rochester smiled, smelling the air. The gardens of Southerby weren’t particularly filled with flowers. It was mainly open grass and trees so that she had room to run when she was a child. “I’m an amateur botanist, did you know? I could spend hours upon hours scouring gardens.”