“Shouldn’t I be, Giles? He is our friend, after all,” Sabrina responded, keeping her tone light.
“Brina, I know you too well not to sense when you are unhappy about something. I had thought in London that you and Andrew had gotten to know one another better. That perhaps ...”
“Perhaps what, Giles?”
Giles could feel the effort it took to keep her tone even.
“That perhaps you and Andrew had discovered you would like to be more than just friends.”
“Andrew certainly does not seem to want more than a polite acquaintance, Giles.”
“And what do you want, Brina?”
“Oh, I’ll admit it, Giles. To you, because you know me too well for me to lie. I have always been interested in Andrew, ever since his first visit here. And I have never met anyone else who was as attractive to me. Then, when I saw him with Clare and at the inquest, my ... feelings for him became even stronger. But it is ridiculous for me to think of him that way. He is oblivious to me, after all.”
“He certainly has never shown you any more attention than would be expected from a friend of the family,” mused Giles.
“No, he hasn’t,” agreed Sabrina with a despondent sigh.
“On the other hand, Brina, he is a younger son. He is four times removed from the title and most unlikely ever to inherit. And to the horror of his family, he spends his time among the lowlife of London. He would be unlikely to consider himself an eligible suitor for the Lady Sabrina Whitton, daughter of an earl and someone who has a substantial portion.”
Sabrina sat silent for a few moments. There was a murmur of bees, humming in and out of the herb garden, and the air was redolent with the scent of mint and thyme. She felt relaxed for the first time since Andrew had arrived. Maybe Giles was right. She had never thought about it from Andrew’s perspective before.
She
had never thought of his position as an obstacle. Andrew was so naturally superior to his older brother that she couldn’t imagine him thinking that any woman would prefer a titled bore to him, the quirkily intelligent and committed younger son. But men had a strange sense of honor, she reminded herself. Honor seemed more important to them than love, a very odd concept for a woman to appreciate.
“I never really looked at it that way before, Giles,” she finally responded.
“Mind you, Sabrina, I am not saying he
does
care. I don’t know that. But I would not be at all surprised if he considered only a friendship appropriate with you. I am not sure this helps at all,” said Giles, smiling sympathetically at his sister.
“Maybe I need to show a little more of my feelings, Giles. What would you think of such a match, if it were to come about?”
“I would be very happy for you both, Sabrina. Andrew is the only man I can think of who is a match for you.”
“Then wish me luck.”
It was easier to declare one was going to be more open than it was to do it. Andrew seemed to have created a very effective distance between himself and Sabrina. He was always polite and friendly, but also emotionally removed. But only from me, thought Sabrina, as she watched Andrew and Clare for the next few days. They had become fast friends and were obviously very comfortable with each other. All the warmth that Andrew kept from Sabrina was turned on Clare.
One afternoon, dressed in old clothes, the four of them went over to their old favorite fishing spot. It was a warm day, and Andrew and Giles gave only perfunctory apologies as they took their jackets off and rolled up their sleeves. Sabrina quickly and efficiently baited her own hook as Giles had taught her years ago, but Clare was still as repulsed by the task as ever. Before Giles had a chance to help her, Andrew stepped in and did it for her.
“There you are, Clare. Just drop your hook into the water, and you’ll forget what’s wriggling at the end of it.”
“I am still quite hopeless at this,” said Clare with a laugh. “And I wouldn’t know what to do with a fish if I caught it anyway.”
“Do you remember that awful trick Lucy pulled years ago?” Sabrina asked.
Clare blushed. She remembered it very well, that feeling of helplessness before outright cruelty.
“I hope I would be able to act differently now,” Clare responded quietly. “I believe I have changed a little over the years.”
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence as all busied themselves finding a place on the bank of the stream, while thinking about Clare and her late husband.
Giles broke the silence first, for Giles did not like to think about Justin Rainsborough or how he died. He understood Clare’s action; a part of him applauded it. But mostly he couldn’t contemplate either how she had lived with him or how she had escaped him.
“Do you suppose that old pike is still around, Brina?" he asked. “Remember how we used to spend hours trying to catch him?"
“I seem to remember that I was the only one ever to hook him,” bragged Andrew.
“Hooked, but not landed,” Giles reminded him.
“I couldn’t help it if my line broke! I hope this time you have given me a strong enough line, Giles.”
“Are you suggesting that I gave you an old line on purpose, Andrew?" said Giles, with mock outrage.
“Oh, hush, you two, We won’t catch anything if you keep making such a racket,” Sabrina demanded.
They all settled down. Clare was sitting next to Andrew, and Giles and Sabrina were standing a few feet away. They were at a point in the stream where the water had collected into a deep black pool before spilling over a rocky ledge. Under the ledge on their side was a spot protected by reeds and overhung by an old willow tree. That was where the big fish was believed to spend his time, and all of them had tossed their lines in that direction.
Giles felt something first, but all he had caught was a small trout. “You would most likely have been the old pike’s dinner, so you might as well be our lunch,” he said as he tossed the fish into his creel.
The sun warmed their shoulders and necks, and the onyx water looked like it was hardly flowing. They were all in that semi-mesmerized state that utter relaxation can bring, when Sabrina’s sudden gasp startled them.
Her pole was bent almost in half, and she had almost lost it in the sudden, powerful tug.
“My God, Sabrina, if you don’t have him, you must have hooked some sort of monster,” exclaimed Giles.
Andrew walked slowly to her side, speaking calmly and rhythmically, almost chanting encouragement and instruction.
“That’s right, Brina, let the pole down a little. Let him feel some slack. Not too much, or he’ll slip the hook. That’s right, Brina, that’s right.” Sabrina was too intent on landing her fish to take it in, but her mind must have registered it, for later she remembered that Andrew had called her by the name only Giles used.
“Now, keep that pole up and move back a little from the bank. Yes, yes, there he is.”
They could see the water churning as the great fish came closer to the surface. Clare was standing now, too, as intent as the others on the struggle, but the more the old giant attempted to escape the hook, the more sympathetic she became to him, the more she silently wished him well, not Sabrina. She knew what it was to be caught like that, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone, even a fish.
The pike turned and swam for the opposite bank, and Sabrina thought her arms might separate from their sockets. She was drawn inexorably toward the bank.
“Don’t move in, Brina, move back,” shouted Giles.
“I can’t help it,” she exclaimed, amazed at the power at the end of her line.
The pole wasn’t bent, but almost level with the ground, for she didn’t have the strength to lift it.
Andrew quickly stepped behind her and putting his arms around her waist, said: “I’ve got you, Brina. Now pull him in.”
She wasn’t sliding anymore, so she could put all her concentration into lifting the pole. Slowly she pulled it up, but not enough to bring the pike to the surface.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she gasped.
“Do you want to land him on your own, or should I help?” Andrew asked, his face close to hers, his breath against her neck.
“Grab the pole, Andrew,” Sabrina cried without even thinking, and letting go of her waist and pulling her into him, Andrew reached around and put his hands on the pole. Together they lifted and all at once, it seemed the old fish rose out of the water, dull pewter turned to silver in the sun.
As the pike rose, Andrew felt himself rise as he was pressed even closer to Sabrina, and he prayed that she was too intent on her struggle to become aware of his arousal.
The pole was bent double again, and Andrew prayed aloud that the line would not snap as he and Sabrina slowly moved backward, pulling the fish with them.
“All right,
now,
”
Andrew said, and they jerked up and back. The old pike landed flopping on the bank as Sabrina and Andrew lost their balance and their grip on the pole.
The fish was right on the edge of the bank, still leaping as though air were water. He couldn’t get very high, but Clare realized that he was going to be able to roll himself right over the bank and silently cheered him in his heroic effort. Then she realized that the hook was still in his mouth, still attached to the line and the pole. Without thinking, she scrambled over. She put her hand down as gently as she could on the wriggling giant, and when that made him move even more, she wrapped her skirt over him to trap him, and grabbing the side of his head, she began to work the hook out of his mouth.
“Clare, what are you doing?" exclaimed Giles.
Clare worked as fast as she could, knowing that she wasn’t doing it easily, only quickly and painfully. Finally it was free, leaving a jagged rip in the jaw, which she was sure would heal. She looked at the pike and whispered: “There, you are free again.” And lifting her skirt, she tossed him back into the water.
Andrew and Sabrina had scrambled up by then and were standing as openmouthed as any fish. Clare turned to face them. “I am sorry,” she said, in a low, choked voice. “I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand seeing him played with and trapped like that.” Tears were running down her cheeks and as Giles stepped toward her, she motioned him back. “I am sorry to spoil the fishing, Giles. I have never enjoyed it,” she added, amazing herself and them. “Not the worms or the fish on the hook. Only the quiet and the trees and sun and water. I should have told you years ago.” She looked down at her dress and smiled. “I am as dirty as when Lucy threw those worms at me, aren’t I! I am going back to the house to change.”
“You can’t go alone, Clare,” said Giles. “I’ll come with you.”
“Nonsense. You all stay here, and I will see you at tea.” With that, she turned and started briskly for Whitton.
Andrew looked over at his two friends. Giles was looking after Clare and then back at the water, as though trying to take in the fact that she had actually tossed the biggest fish in Somersetshire back in the pool. Sabrina was standing there, pushing her hair back from her face with a muddy hand, leaving her cheek streaked with dirt. Her dress was torn at the hem, where Andrew must have stepped on it when they went down. Andrew looked down at himself. Thank God he was no longer aroused. But his pants were as muddy as Sabrina’s hands. He let out a great shout of laughter. “Good for Clare!”
“Whatever got into her?” asked Sabrina.
“She threw him
back,
”
said Giles, still unable to believe that his wife had actually tossed away such a fish. “Why, that fish is a legend around here.”
“You
caught
him, Sabrina,” crowed Andrew.
“And
we
landed him, Andrew. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She suddenly remembered the sensation of Andrew pressed close against her and turned away to fuss with her dress in order to hide her flaming cheeks.
“Oh, well,” said Giles, resigned to fate. “What would we have done with him but mount him on the wall. He was too old to eat. But I can’t believe Clare has hated fishing all these years,” he added with such naive amazement that he set Andrew and Sabrina off into gales of laughter.
“Oh, all right you two. I suppose I should have known. Or at least realized that Clare would never have said anything. At least she has enjoyed part of it, hasn’t she?” he asked, wondering to himself how many things Clare had not told him, wondering how well he knew his wife after all.
“Come on, Giles, bring the trout, and we’ll have him cooked for tea,” said Sabrina. “I for one have done my share of fishing for the day!”
* * * *
Clare walked home feeling both exhilaration and fear. For once in her life, she had said what she wanted and it left her with the sensation of having jumped off a cliff. It was exciting, this new feeling of having some power, but also frightening. Whatever would Giles say to her? She was sure he must be angry, both at her cheating them out of the most famous fish in the county and for finally admitting that she didn’t like fishing and never had.
When they all gathered for tea, however, there was only a little good-natured teasing from Andrew and Sabrina, with Giles joining in the laughter. But Clare was sure he was only politely hiding his displeasure. That evening, after she retired, instead of going right to sleep, she stayed awake until she heard him come up from the library where he and Andrew had had a nightcap.
She knocked softly on the adjoining door, and Giles opened it, a look of surprise on his face. He dismissed his valet and invited Clare in.
“No, I won’t stay, Giles. I just wanted to apologize for this afternoon. I am sure you must be very annoyed with me.”
“Not annoyed, Clare. Just surprised. I never dreamed you felt that way about fishing all these years.”
“How could you have. And I have enjoyed all but the actual fishing, Giles.”
Giles smiled quizzically.
“No, I am telling the truth,” protested Clare. “The walks to the stream and the fresh air. Even watching the water is very relaxing. It was just that until today, I would pretend that no fish were being caught. That wasn’t too hard, since I never caught anything!” Clare was slowly becoming conscious that her husband was standing there without his cravat, his shirt half-open. She noted with pleasure that Giles had dark brown curls of hair on his chest. Justin’s chest had been smooth ... but no, she would not think of Justin.