The Promise of Change - By Rebecca Heflin Page 0,23
not so obscure?”
“I’m a lawyer, er, well, currently I’m an out-of-work lawyer.”
He raised his eyebrows, not expecting that response, neither the fact that she was a lawyer and not some literary scholar, nor the fact that she was unemployed. The light in her eyes momentarily dimmed when she mentioned her employment status.
“But I majored in literature in college, and love to read books with stodgy plots,” she said, eyes bright again.
“What brings you to Oxford?”
“I’m here studying at Christ Church. These are some of my classmates.” She waved her hand, indicating her friends gathered at the bar.
Ah yes, of course. Spending much of his time in London, he forgot about the summer educational programs offered by the various colleges.
“Sarah, we’re leaving. You coming, then?” the burly guy asked as Sarah’s classmates paid for their drinks and vacated their spots at the bar. He gave Alex the once-over that seemed to indicate he wasn’t leaving without Sarah.
“Sure.” As much as she enjoyed talking with Alex, it was rather late.
As she reached for her wallet, Alex touched her wrist stopping her, “I’ve got it. I owe you a drink after making you wear your other one.”
“That’s not necessary, but thank you.” She looked up into his laughing eyes. “I enjoyed our conversation.” She was reluctant to leave, but it was probably for the best.
He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t let her just walk away. “Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow evening?”
She certainly hadn’t expected that. “Thanks, but I have plans. Besides, I have a rule . . . I don’t date strangers.” The brilliant smile tempered any offense her words might have caused.
She threw one last look over her shoulder before exiting the pub.
Didn’t date strangers. He grinned as he fished money out of his pocket. He could solve that.
As promised, Lady Clara’s car waited at the Canterbury Gate the following afternoon.
The chauffeur introduced himself as Charles, and after settling in the back seat, Sarah couldn’t resist talking with him. She wasn’t sure if that was appropriate, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable with her attempts at conversation.
She asked him what he knew of the history of the area and how long he’d been with Lady Clara.
“My family has been with Lady Clara’s family for seven generations, miss,” he said.
Sarah was genuinely taken aback. “Wow!” her inarticulate response. She quickly did some math in her head, and guessed that would be about two hundred years of service to Lady Clara’s family.
He smiled at her reaction. “All of the men in my family have served either as coach drivers in the days of horse drawn carriage or chauffeurs in the days of motor cars,” he responded with pride. “The women in the family have served as chamber maids, ladies maids, and more recently as cooks. Now with women taking on more men’s work, some of the women even work as gardeners.”
“Then your family has seen a great deal of change throughout the last two centuries.”
“Oh yes, miss. Some good, some bad. But change is the one constant in life. I believe it was the Greek Philosopher Heraclitus who said, ‘Nothing endures but change.’”
Hmm, she thought, a philosophy-quoting chauffeur. Sarah turned to look out the window. The ride to Lady Clara’s ancestral home took only half an hour. They arrived at the gates and drove for another quarter mile to the main entrance of the imposing structure. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but those expectations couldn’t possibly live up to the reality.
Although the home would not be considered grand when compared to Blenheim or Althorp, it was quite large by most standards. The residence was constructed of a mellow golden brick fashioned in the form of the letter ‘H’ with a center portion and two wings. Large mullioned windows lined the front of the house at regular intervals, giving the house a very orderly appearance.
Sarah was astonished that a woman of Lady Clara’s apparent means and status took such a liking to her.
The chauffeur escorted her to the massive wood-paneled foyer, and from there, another gentleman escorted her to an elegantly furnished sitting room where Lady Clara waited.
The Countess stepped forward, taking Sarah’s hands and kissing her cheek. “Welcome to Rutherford Hall, my dear. I am so happy you agreed to have tea with me this afternoon.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Lady Clara. I wouldn’t miss the privilege. You are so thoughtful to think of me.”
“Oh, pish-tosh. You do me the honor of keeping an old lady company. And please, call