Author’s Note: My goodness, it has been so long since I’ve worked on this story. That’s what I get for putting as much stuff on my plate as I do all at once. But finally, here is another chapter of our confused Mr. Sheridan and his hapless life. Enjoy!

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Change is Inevitable”

Tarell’s walk to the front door of his manor was, in a sense, difficult since he realized that today was a turning point in his life and whatever decisions he made would affect every aspect of it from then on. He was on his way to run some necessary errands before stopping by to see Sara briefly. He also had a feeling their “meeting” would not go so well this time around, if Tarell could keep his courage and inform her of the decision he had come to in the last few days. After careful consideration, he had come to the conclusion that his pleasure visits with Sara would remain just that, nothing more. He recognized his feelings developing for the harlot and he had to put a stop to those before they rose to heights he could no longer control. He was smart enough to figure out that she was entertaining thoughts of him beyond their lovemaking as well. This would have to be faced, along with a number of other unfortunate side effects that accompanied his new pastime. He knew the conversation would be a tough thing to get through but in his mind, if he could get through that, perhaps he could force himself to get through to his wife as well.

He intended to hang onto Sara until he could re-establish a proper relationship between him and Mary, however long that would take. But his intentions with Sara were to remain completely physical without letting emotions come into play. He had done so well with masking them during his marriage that he figured it would be a cinch to do so while he was with Sara. The two of them shouldn’t think of such things anyway. Her job was to satisfy his physical needs as well as any other paying man. His consisted merely of providing her with the proper payment for her services. That’s all it was, an equal exchange. Both of them would be satisfied with the other and they could go on about their days without looking back. He knew it meant he had to succumb to emotional detachment but if that was the price he would have to pay for a little while as he got back on his feet, then so be it. If he could gain back his position of lord of the manor and convince his wife to perform her matrimonial duties once more, then that was a small price to pay according to his new train of thought. He didn’t really question his decision nor did he question his newly acquired selfish attitude, for he suspected that if he did, he’d turn around and crawl back under the rock he’d been hiding under for so long. That was something he no longer desired to do.

Walking down the corridor, he glimpsed Mary in the study as she took a momentary break from her reading to examine a nail on her left hand. Obviously not to her liking as she made a frown at it, Tarell stopped at the doorway to offer a suggestion to his red-haired wife.

“Do get a manicure, Mary. I’d hate for your face to stay that way.”

She glanced up at him with a blank expression that quickly turned to one of annoyance when she recognized his sarcastic tone.

“Then you know how I feel. I’ve had to look at your face all these years. Do you think all of your expressions are attractive?” She returned quietly.

She realized her remark had been rather scathing, but at the moment she didn’t care. Over the past couple days her husband had spent most of his time upstairs, not bothering to come down unless it was time to eat. And after he’d finished eating, he had simply stalked back up to his room to continue his solitude while not bothering to give her even the slightest greeting. While their marriage was anything but perfect, Mary had been feeling wholly ignored by her significant other, more so than usual, and was not about to let her disapproval go unnoticed.

Tarell returned her sarcasm with a sigh as he looked up to the ceiling. By the time he looked back at her there was a tiny smile evident around his mouth.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” he answered, “but not as much as yours.”

The annoyed expression dropped from her face at the moment as it morphed into one of surprise, but she really didn’t have time to comment as she noticed Tarell give her a quick wink before continuing on his way.

Tarell whistled softly to himself as he stepped outside of his manor, congratulating himself on the small fact that he’d gotten the last word in. Slowly but surely, he knew that he’d regain his status within his household but it was important to take it one step at a time. He didn’t want to alarm Mary too much in the process. If he remained subtle about it, he asserted that he could prove his dominance and bring her out of her shell without her catching on to what he was doing. If he knew his wife at all, he knew that Mary would not make it easy for him if he tried to push her too far, too fast. So taking it slow was the best way to go if he wanted to make progress.

Mary had returned to her reading, but not before pondering the fact that her husband’s sudden change in his behavior lately seemed very strange. It had been years since he’d actually given her anything that could be construed as a compliment. She really couldn’t believe, or didn’t want to rather, that he had just attempted it. To believe that he had just called her attractive meant acknowledging a spark of hope in their withered marriage. That was a risk she did not want to take, no matter how tempting the rewards might be. So she returned to her book while casting aside her husband’s peculiarities for the time being. Everything would return back to normal soon enough anyway, she thought.

Sara was already dressed and prepared for the day by the time Tarell had walked out his front door. As she busied herself with the tea that was brewing, she wondered how long she had before his knock would sound at her door. When it came to matters of the heart, she had always been wary of promises made by men, but in her experience she had found that they rarely ever missed an appointment with her. This had always proved her right, that men truly were ruled by their sexual desire and not by their hearts. Most women she had found were ruled by love, though some may try to avoid it. She had been one of those women who had banished thoughts of love from her mind long ago only to be overtaken by it now when the need had become too great. She knew that’s what had happened. She had deprived herself of emotional love for so long that the moment someone had offered a courtesy to her she latched onto it. Because Tarell treated her more lovingly than her other customers, she somehow associated that with love. She had most likely been viewing these acts as something more than they truly were. Somewhere deep down inside, she knew that. Tarell most likely would never love her the way she wanted him to. Perhaps even she was incapable of truly loving someone as well. Aside from spending physical time with Sheridan, she didn’t really know him that well. This suggested that what she felt for him was merely infatuation and nothing more.

The carriage pulled up to Sara’s residence and came to halt as the driver pulled on the reins. The door opened and out stepped Tarell. He took a step toward the front of the dark coach and turned toward the driver.

“Take a walk, Gibson,” he ordered, “return in an hour’s time and wait for me. I should be done with my business by then.”

“Very well, sir,” the young coachman replied, knowing exactly what type of ‘business’ his master was referring to, as he snapped the reins to get moving.

He was aware of his master’s secret affairs but knew he could never comment on them. To do so, would surely mean the end of his service to the Sheridan’s. He could not afford that. The Sheridan’s may not be very friendly but they paid well. In fact, Gibson surmised that his salary was nearly double the standard rate. Besides, not him nor the other servants ever commented openly about the Sheridan’s way of life. None of them were close enough to either Mr. or Mrs. Sheridan to have gained their trust. They all highly doubted that anyone was close enough to the couple to be able to speak freely with them, for they were not close with each other to begin with. It was no secret in the household that they lived lives that were nearly completely separate from one another. It was sad, really, but Gibson supposed that was one of the pitfalls of a wealthy marriage. It had probably been an arranged marriage anyway, Gibson thought as the coach made its way onto the main street. That was the only reason he could think of that made a bit of sense. Physically, the Sheridan’s were a lovely couple. Mrs. Sheridan was beautiful, exquisite even, though she seemed a bit icy even on the outside. Mr. Sheridan was a sight to behold as well. Although his behavior had always been mysterious and passive, he was quite a handsome man and Gibson imagined still gave the ladies something to gawk at. He would have thought that their physical beauty would have been enough to create an attraction between them to keep the fire going. Evidently though, that had not been the case. Gibson had not been present in the household during the first years of the Sheridan’s marriage so he did not know if there had ever even been a fire between the two. From what he had seen and heard though, the Sheridan’s had not been a loving couple in quite a long time. Quite a shame, he thought.

Before the coach had even moved ten feet, Tarell had already begun making his way to Sara’s front entrance. Half of him was dreading this encounter. It was time for him to separate himself emotionally and sexually. The two should not be combined when visiting a lady of pleasure, he reminded himself. These are supposed to be cold encounters, just sex and nothing more. Other men do it, why can’t I? Then again, other men have some love at home to return to. What have I got? A beautiful wife who won’t lay a hand on me or allow me to touch her to satisfy any desire for intimacy, that’s what. It pained him to know his life was so tragic. He couldn’t believe he had let it get that way. That’s what it comes down to. It’s my fault, isn’t it? I stopped demanding respect and this is where it led me, to a loveless marriage, a desire for harlots, and a troubled mind.

He stopped at the front door and for a moment wondered what would happen if he didn’t go in. Would life get any better if he turned around and went back home or would the desire to give into temptation become greater? Was continuing to stay with Mary while carrying on sexual escapades with Sara to ease his body and mind a good choice or would it blow up in his face eventually? He was afraid he already knew the answer to that. He had to be realistic. Eventually, despite his efforts, everything would come crashing down. He would think he built the perfect life only to realize his mistakes down the line would cost him greatly. That’s how it always goes, he thought. That’s the story of my life. It’s exactly what happened to Mary and me. He couldn’t handle knowing that. He was coming to realize that it was his desire for perfection, not Mary’s, that brought him his current turmoil. He had always been looking for someone to blame throughout the years of his unhappiness. Although he had often pondered the thought that perhaps he had been doing something wrong, he had usually discarded that for his own selfish reasons and laid the blame on Mary. Maybe it wasn’t all her fault, after all. Did I push her away? Is that why she wants nothing to do with me? If so, why can’t I remember exactly how it all started?

He was still deep in thought when the door opened in front of him, revealing Sara beyond the threshold. She stared at him as she wondered why he did such things from time to time.

“Still as a statue, you are,” she commented, snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t enter though, simply stood there with hardly any emotion showing in his blue eyes.

“Well, aren’t you going to come in?” Sara inquired, moving aside.

He seemed to hesitate momentarily before he stepped through the doorway. After he did so, Sara closed the door behind him and reached up to massage his shoulders. He kept still for several seconds, quietly relishing the feel of her hands on his tense muscles. He didn’t allow himself to become too lost in her touch, though. That was far too dangerous now. So, after the initial sensation wore off, he closed his hands around hers to stop her actions.

“Is something wrong?” She asked from behind him, confused.

“Before we go any further, there’s something we need to talk about,” Tarell replied, trying to ease into it as much as possible. This is it, he thought, don’t screw it up.

Sara’s small hands fell from his shoulders, but not without difficulty. Wondering what exactly Tarell wanted to talk about, she took a step back and began to walk over toward the table she used for dining purposes.

“So be it,” she said, inviting him to start. There were so many things it could be that she would have wasted half of the day pondering them.

Taking off the cloak, Tarell dropped it over the chair, and sat down on the rickety chair opposite her. He studied her for a moment, which only gave Sara a bad feeling.

“What exactly do you think about when we’re together?” He finally asked.

The question caught Sara off guard, as not many men asked her that sort of question. Not many men cared about her thoughts, at all. She loved that about Tarell, but in a way, she hated it as well. It forced her to get in touch with her feelings, which was something she scarcely did. It took a lot of effort on her part to dig down deep to reach them.

“Um, I don’t know,” she blurted out, trying to concentrate, “I guess I’m usually concentrating on how it feels more than what it makes me think.”

“And?” Tarell pushed with determination.

“And you make me feel like an actual person instead of a whore. You were the first customer…uh, man that cared whether or not I was left satisfied by the encounter. Most men that come for my services want a purely selfish experience. When you first came, that’s what I thought about you. But by the time you left that first night, my opinion of you had changed. You weren’t exactly like everyone else,” Sara admitted.

“What are your feelings toward me now?” Tarell inquired.

“Why so many questions today?” Sara asked in return.

Tarell blew a puff of air out of his mouth, trying to expel the bad taste in it from so much guilt over his deceit. He was beginning to think he’d deceived Sara as much as he did Mary.

“I think I’m reaching a turning point, Sara,” he answered. He knew he had to keep going, no matter what the outcome was. He had to finish this. “I can’t continue down the road I’m on. Something must change.”

“Is that something supposed to be me?” Sara wondered as her heart began to sink. Perhaps he is like every other man, after all.

Tarell seemed a bit uncomfortable with her forwardness regarding the situation. He began to fidget in his seat, but regained his composure rather quickly by straightening up and placing his arms on the table. He rested his mouth on his curled fist as he carefully picked his answer.

“I’m afraid it will concern you, yes. Well, it will concern us,” he answered as he gestured back and forth from her to him. “I’m changing Sara. I don’t know how else to explain it to you. I just feel like if I continue doing everything that I’ve been doing, my life will just get more complicated. I don’t know if I can handle that. I’m struggling to handle my life right now the way it is. If it gets worse, I’m afraid others will suffer for it more than I… you included. I don’t want that on my conscience. I’m feeling guilty about coming here in the first place. My marriage was in trouble before then and I was looking for an easy way out. The first night I came here, I was never expecting to come back. It was an impulsive decision on my part because I was sick of dealing with the loneliness. Mary and I, we live together, but we haven’t been together for years. I never knew what to do to make the romance come back, so I never tried. I just figured that it was gone, so why make the effort? That’s when I came to you. I thought I could come here whenever I felt the need to have my desires fulfilled. Somehow, I thought that everything would magically be better because of it. For that short period of time that I was with you, it was. Unfortunately, I’m one of those cursed people with a conscience. I realized that even though I don’t get to fuck my wife, I still pledged eternal loyalty to her the day we wed. The first night I came here, I broke that vow. Now, I can’t turn back the clock. I’ll deal with a lifetime of guilt now for what I’ve done. I wanted physical pleasure but I got more than I bargained for. I tried to tell myself that’s all it was after I left here that night. I couldn’t even make myself believe it, though. I know we’ve only spent a few hours in each other’s company, but it was enough for me to begin to believe I had feelings for you. That was a very foolish mistake, indeed. I think it was because the very idea of straying from my wife had always been forbidden to me. It was the temptation to cross that line that pulled me in. I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of this. It wasn’t your fault. I’ve just realized that I made a mistake and I have to fix it. If you have feelings for me beyond that of a normal customer, which I’m getting the impression that you do, I cannot allow this to continue. I see now that it’s probably my fault.”

“No, it’s not actually,” Sara corrected. “I should never have let myself get emotionally involved. I made the same mistake. It was stupid of me to think anything would ever come of it. You’re right. What we’ve been doing is probably not a good idea.”

Sara, of course, was crushed but she struggled to keep it hidden inward. It was just as she feared. She had unlocked a small part of her heart only to have it be taken and shattered into millions of pieces. Maybe I did it just to see if I still had a heart, she thought to herself, trying to sound convincing.

Tarell nodded at this as if he agreed. Somewhere deep inside of him, though, he fought against his better judgment. It surprised him a bit that she was so easily agreeable with the idea of breaking their commitment, however small, to each other. He would have thought that she would have put up some resistance but perhaps she truly was just as cold as all the rest of the whores who frequented the shady districts in England. She appeared a bit tight-lipped but that was it. Or perhaps she just doesn’t want to make herself too vulnerable at the moment, he reasoned. Maybe she’s not the type to fall to the ground and cry from lost love or beg for my return. It had never occurred to him that it would be this easy to let go of the harlot. Because of her sudden nonchalance he didn’t feel overwhelmed with guilt that he had wronged her. Somehow this disappointed him. He had thought that she’d needed him almost as much as he’d needed her. Apparently, I was wrong.

“So, what does this all mean exactly, Sheridan?” Sara asked, curious to know what his plans were. She wanted to change his mind so badly. To make him admit that it wasn’t over and that he still wanted her. She knew that it had not been about the money, not with Tarell. She would’ve gladly provided him with every depraved act he could ask for without taking a cent from him. She didn’t want to go back to her old life of being treated as just another whore for the rich to sneak off to and the poor to have a go with in an alley. There was never any emotion there. When it was through, it was through and that was that. You just walk off to find another paying customer. It was the life she’d always known but never enjoyed.

“It means that I can’t go on this way,” he answered, almost shrugging.

“So where does that leave me? Are you walking out the door and never coming back? Is that what you’re saying?” Sara inquired.

“I don’t know Sara,” Tarell answered huffily. “I’m not one hundred percent sure about what to do. I never planned all of this. Like a fool, I never looked ahead to see what was coming. I can’t just divorce my wife. I won’t do it. A part of me still loves her and until that part of me fades away, I can’t just let go. It doesn’t work that way. We have problems but doesn’t everyone? I don’t know if I can keep this secret for much longer. I mean, you didn’t really think our visits would go on forever, did you? You must have known they were going to come to an end one day, didn’t you?”

Sara got very quiet at that moment, and looked down at her hands folded in her lap. She knew what he was saying was true. The good things couldn’t last forever. She just wished they would.

“Yes, of course you love your wife, because she’s the respectable one, right?” Sara finally replied after pondering the subject for a moment. “She doesn’t satisfy you, but you still respect her because she’s honorable. Perhaps if I had been born rich, you could’ve respected me as well, eh? Who knows? Perhaps your wife could have been sitting in my place while I played the part of Mrs. Sheridan. But that’s not the way life turned out, is it?”

Tarell was looking at her seriously now from his spot. His blue eyes appeared quite stormy from her observations.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his mouth twitching in irritation.

“Then go home to your wife, Sheridan,” Sara suggested rather coldly. She got up from her seat to place her cup of tea on the counter top. “I already have plenty of customers who treat me like a whore. I don’t need you to do the same.”

Her words cut through him but he resisted apologizing. “In all truth, Sara, you are, in fact, a whore. How do you expect them to treat you?”

“It’s not like I had a choice, Tarell! Do you think that when I was a young girl I walked around dreaming of how I was going to grow up and give myself to a bunch of men for money?! I have to do that or I don’t eat. Life didn’t turn out the way I wanted it. I don’t have a man to keep me feeling financially secure like your little wife does. I don’t have the luxury of knowing that I can sit around in my mansion and let servants bring me the things I want. I have to work for everything. The only thing anyone ever gave me is this home. My mother left it to me when she died. I’m grateful for that but when it comes down to everything else, I just couldn’t make ends meet. Being a whore was the only option left. If you don’t want to have any respect for me that’s fine, but I am not going to lie down and die because of it. I’d rather survive,” Sara retorted.

She was nearly crying by then but she held back the tears, determined not to let Tarell know how much his statement had hurt her.

“Do you think I have no respect for you?” Tarell asked. “You’re wrong. I respect you as much I’m able. You offered yourself to me without the mention of money. That, I assume, was quite a sacrifice on your part. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.”

“You’ve just come here to tell me that you’re choosing to stay with your wife and leave me in the gutter. I know I’m not a rich noble-woman, you don’t have to insult me by using the fact that I’m a whore against me. In fact, it is your fault that this has turned out the way it has. You should have just treated me the same as everyone else does from the beginning, Tarell. At least then I would never have developed any feelings for you. Instead you came here with your gentle hands and your soft little kisses and your ridiculous romance,” she said harshly. “What did you think was going to happen? Despite the fact that I am a whore, as you so diligently reminded me, I do have some degree of feelings. I am human, contrary to what most people believe. Whatever flame burns in me for you, you have yourself to blame that it exists. You ignited it by the way you treated me. It’s not my fault that your wife is so damned cold and your marriage is so incredibly empty. You didn’t have to come here and make me feel like I was somebody, did you? You should have just stayed cooped up in your manor like you were, hating your life because of your mistakes. I would never have known you and to be honest, it would have been better that way.”

“Go ahead and blame me Sara. Everyone else does,” Tarell replied sarcastically. “According to you, it looks like I’ve managed to not only screw up my own life, but everyone else’s that I’ve ever met. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it would have been better if we’d never met at all. I’d still be the same old Tarell Sheridan, scared of my own shadow, with only memories and fantasies to keep me company. I’d still be lonely and submissive. That’s all changing now, though. Being with you opened my eyes to all of my problems and, quite possibly, my solutions. I have you to thank for that. I know you think I’m just walking in and out of your life but I owe you. I’m not going to just leave without giving you what you deserve. You’re not some faceless whore to me. I just can’t let myself get too emotionally involved. Nothing is ever going to work out that way. We’ll both end up getting hurt.”

“It already hurts, Tarell, because we are emotionally involved. You know it. I know it. You can deny it, but you’ll just be lying to yourself again. You give yourself completely when you have sex. Other men, they are sometimes rigid and careless in their actions, but not you. You can see it in your eyes sometimes. Your beautiful bottomless eyes, they show the real you. I’d guess that even your wife knows that. I’m just surprised she can’t see how much you are struggling right now to find the common ground you two obviously once shared,” Sara informed him. “She must be making it doubly hard for you to regain your authority.”

Tarell looked at her as if she had just re-opened a festering wound. He knew she was right, of course. Mary had always been too caught up in her own disappointments to see how it was affecting him. She was never without a harsh comeback and that seemed to frustrate him even more. If there was a way to get through to her, he couldn’t find it.

“Yes, well, most of the time, she seems to be wholly against reconciling,” Tarell responded moodily, “verbally or physically.”

“Perhaps you are still going about it all wrong,” Sara suggested, an idea forming in her head.

“What am I supposed to do?” Tarell continued to question in that cynical tone of his. “Tie her up and beat her until she complies with my wishes?”

“No, of course not,” Sara answered. “There are more subtle ways of getting a female’s attention.”

“I’ve tried subtle for years, Sara,” Tarell explained. “It doesn’t seem to…capture her attention.”

“I’ll bet you’ve never even confronted her, have you?” Sara inquired with a smirk. “As you’ve said before, your authority in your marriage has disappeared. But it’s only because you’ve let her walk all over you. She’s simply lost her respect for you because of that.”

“Why are you trying to help my marriage?” Tarell asked, not wanting to face the truth. “What business is it of yours? I would’ve thought that you’d want to destroy it after everything.”

“I don’t know, Tarell,” Sara answered, “maybe it’s because you’ve made up for years of loneliness with just a few encounters. Perhaps it is me that owes you.”

Tarell wondered briefly if it was some sort of trick to get back at him for his decision. After all, why would someone in her line of work want to aid a man who was trying to break away from his sinful life? A woman like her would normally urge him to give into temptation, not repair the damage he’s done.

“What is it that you propose that I do?” Tarell inquired, just to hear her suggestion. At this point, he would take anyone’s advice if it meant some good fortune would come to his marriage.