"Wake
up, Ginny!" He shook her naked shoulder roughly, and when she moaned and
rolled over, burrowing into the pillow, he yanked the covers off her, shutting
his mind to the sight of her curled body, so soft, tender, and inviting. Ginny
clung stubbornly to the black depths of .unconsciousness until something cold
and wet scrubbed roughly across her face and she came to, shuddering at this
brutal awakening, washed by the nausea that came from being torn so abruptly
from the depths of her first sleep. Bemused, she looked up into the furious
face hanging over her, and, caught off guard in her weakened state, tears of
self-pity filled her eyes.
Hurt
and frustration were the coals that fed me fiercely glowing brazier of his
anger, and Alex did not want to see the tears. "How dare you go to
sleep!" he blazed. "I have already wasted half a day because of you.
Because of you, fifty men have gone without sleep to no purpose and can look
forward to none until this night." He pulled her off the bed as he spoke.
"We leave here in five minutes, and if you must ride like Lady Godiva,
then so be it!" with that, he stormed out of the chamber, slamming the
door in his wake.
Ginny,
her hands trembling and heart beating fast with the shock of her rude
awakening, struggled to put on her clothes again. She could not think clearly,
was aware only of how wretchedly unwell she felt, how even her skin seemed to
ache. She stumbled downstairs, still fastening the buttons on her shirt,
petrified of what might happen if she did not appear by the decreed five
minutes.
Jed
passed her on the stairs in too much of a hurry to greet her. He entered the
chamber she had just left, emerging in a few seconds with her baggage roll.
Outside, Alex, astride Bucephalus, waited and fumed. Jen, saddled, stood
patiently. Ginny mounted without assistance, and Jed, having swung himself up
onto his cob, stowed Ginny's baggage behind him, and the three of them rode
back to the castle where the division stood ready to move out,
The
next few days were sheer misery for everyone. The general was almost
unapproachable, setting a furious pace that raised blisters on the feet and
frayed tempers. They never made camp properly because they stopped too late at
night for anyone to have the energy, and, besides, the general decided they
could not afford the time involved in striking it the following morning. So
they slept in barns and outhouses, or under the stars, eating without the
comfort of fire so they all grew heartily sick of stale biscuit, cold bacon,
pickled herrings, and whatever other supplies they carried that required no
cooking.
Ginny
felt filthier than she could ever remember. There seemed little point in
putting fresh linen on a dirty body, and since the opportunity never arose for
washing either clothes or herself, she gave up all attempts to keep herself
respectably tidy and slept in the clothes she had ridden in all day, assuming
that she smelled no worse than anyone else and probably was the only person to
notice anyway.
Alex
spoke to her only to give her an order or bellow because she was in the way.
Since this was the only way he communicated with anyone these days, Ginny could
not feel singled out, but her unhappiness increased hourly. She knew that she
was responsible for Alex's mood and, therefore, responsible for everyone else's
misery. Once or twice, she attempted to broach the subject, but he always cut
her off with mortifying impatience and walked away. She began to wonder whether
the bargain they had struck could possibly be affording Alex any satisfaction.
He certainly did not appear to be any happier than anyone else, but perhaps he
was deriving some twisted pleasure from punishing her with this icy
indifference and the unusually careless disregard for the well-being of others
that he must know upset her.
Ginny
set her teeth and went about her usual business in grim silence. The march took
its toll of the men, and her services were much in demand during the brief
halts. She took to rising before dawn, going into the fields to collect the
herbal ingredients for her medicines but always with Jed to accompany her. At
first, he had no solution to offer on the general's evil temper, merely telling
Ginny that he had seen it several times before, and while it was the devil's
own business while it lasted, he would recover his usual equilibrium
eventually.
"In
the meantime, an entire division is to be made to suffer," Ginny retorted.
"There is no justice in that, and the general prides himself on his sense
of justice, does he not?" Jed grunted. "If he must punish
me
then
I will accept it willingly. I caused him grievous hurt, I know that." She
smiled sadly. "I would make it up to him, if he would allow me, but I
cannot come within ten paces without having my head bitten off."
"Folks
'ave always been afeard of his black moods, even when he was a lad," Jed
said thoughtfully, laying a bunch of spearmint in her basket. "His sainted
mother, rest her soul, would do anythin' to stop 'em, wouldn't let his brothers
upset 'im, or anyone else, for that matter. Might 've been better if 'n she
had."
Ginny
sat back on her heels and surveyed the weather-beaten, wrinkled face intently.
"Are you suggesting that perhaps someone should
not
be afraid of
this black mood, should perhaps show him that they are not?"
Jed
shrugged. "Stands to reason you expect what you've always 'ad, seems to
me. General expects folks to run scared when he's vexed like this, and then I
don't think 'e knows what to do about it. Can't stop bein' vexed just like
that, now, can 'e? Not with everyone shakin' in their shoes."
"You
make him sound like a thoroughly spoiled little boy who's thrown a tremendous
tantrum and is scared and bewildered by the effect it's had," Ginny said
with a laugh.
"If
the cap fits," Jed responded laconically. "Best be gettin' back, now,
mistress. Don't want to upset the general by keepin' the division waitin'
again, do you?" He winked, and Ginny chuckled, feeling better than she had
done for days.
At six
o'clock, after a grueling day in the early August heat, Ginny saw what she had
been waiting for—a wide, clear river running between lush green meadows shaded
by broad oaks and copper beeches. She nudged Jen forward, out of the front line
to ride beside Bucephalus some ten paces ahead of the rest. "General, I
think we should stop here for the night," she announced without preamble.
Alex
looked at her in blank astonishment. "You what?"
"I
think we should stop here for the night," she repeated calmly. "There
is water for bathing and cooking, and if we stop now, the men can light their
fires and have a hot supper for once."
"And
since when have you been in command of this division?" he demanded icily,
with a sardonic twist of his lips.
"Since
its general seems to have forgotten to concern himself with the welfare of his
men," she returned smartly. "They are suffering from blisters and
foot rot because they have not had time to air their boots or wash their
stockings. They are sore from marching in armor at this insane pace you have
set. They all know that speed is of the essence, but one early halt is not
going to make that much difference, and they will march all the better for it
on the morrow. Besides," she went on swiftly, seeing him momentarily at a
loss, "I stink, and if I do not bathe and change my clothes within the
next half-hour, I shall be quite unable to stand my own company, let alone yours."
Twisting over her shoulder, she called, "Colonel Bonham, the general has
said we may halt the march for the day and make camp beside the river."
There
was nothing Alex could do about it, short of engaging in an unseemly brawl on
the public highway with this outrageous woman who had so surely cut the ground
from beneath his feet. He gestured assent to the colonel, but the habitual
black glower showed no sign of lifting, deepened if anything. At the sight of
it, Ginny put her chin up. She was going to force a response from him before
the morning at whatever cost. A blazing row, however ugly, had to be better
than this frigid wasteland, and it was high time General Alexander Marshall
realized that one person, at least, was not afraid of his temper.
The
men of the division, once dismissed from their ranks, behaved like children
released from the schoolroom, pulling off their boots and stockings and wading
into the river with great shouts of glee, splashing water over dust-coated
heads and clothes. Tints went up and fires were lit in double-quick time; soon
the aromas of cooking drifted with the smoke across the meadow, and the sounds
of singing and the strumming of a mandolin filled the evening air.
The
officers' tents went up equally rapidly, the general's, at Jed's instruction,
set a little apart. Ginny took possession immediately, without waiting for a
signal from its rightful owner who, if the past nights were anything to go by,
would sleep in lonely isolation under the trees. She found her precious sliver
of soap, a towel, and clean undergarments and wrapped the whole in her kirtle
of green chintz before leaving the tent, clutching her bundle and setting off
toward the river.
"Virginia!"
Alex's voice bellowed, arresting her before she had gone three paces.
She
stopped but did not turn, saying into the air ahead of her. "Yes, General.
What may I do for you?"
"Where
do you think you're going?" He strode across the grass toward her,
lowering his voice in deference to those others around them who made great show
of ignoring the scene.
"I
am going to bathe in the river," she replied succinctly. "As I told
you I would."
"Well,
I am telling you that you may not," he snapped.
"For
what reason?" Ginny demanded indignantly, moving off without waiting for
his response.
"Come
back here!"
"No,"
she threw over her shoulder, "not until I have bathed."
Alex
caught her, seized her hand, and pulled her into the trees out of sight of any
fascinated spectators. "You will do as I tell you," he gritted.
"You may not bathe in the river because, in order to ensure privacy from
the camp, you will have to go quite some way away, and I will not permit you to
go far afield without escort, as well you know. Jed will bring you water to the
tent, and you must make do with that."
"It
is not good enough," she said furiously. "I must wash my hair, and I
will
bathe properly. If I must be escorted, then you will have to come."
She tugged at her imprisoned wrist. "Let me go. I am sick to death of your
ill temper and your unfairness. It is bad enough that you should have the power
of inflicting misery on so many without your using that power to satisfy your
own self-conceit. When I have bathed, I will prepare you some hiera picra which
will purge the choler from your stomach!" Alex, so taken aback by this forceful
speech, loosened his grip on her hand, and she twitched free, marching away
from him, not deigning to run, knowing that if he was determined to stop her,
he could do so simply by virtue of superior strength.
Alex
watched her break through the trees again so that she was back in sight of the
camp, contemplated forcing her to do as he bade her, then dismissed the idea as
undignified. No one had spoken to him in that manner since he was a child, and
in with his fury lurked something uncomfortable that he did not wish to examine
closely. If she was determined to bathe, then would he have to accompany her. A
week ago, the prospect would have brought only pleasure, he thought sourly, and
he would most probably have shared the bath with her. But he was so damnably
confused about the way he felt about her these days, the last thing he could
afford was to lose what little perspective remained to him in the seductive
glories of her body.
He
strode briskly in pursuit, catching her up as she rounded a bend in the river.
Ginny stopped and looked around, ignoring her companion as she tried to decide
whether this particular spot would serve her purpose. "It is not far
enough away," Alex told her firmly. "We will go around the next bend,
if you please."
"If
you are to stand watch for me, I fail to see what difference it makes how far
away I go," Ginny said with deliberate impudence.
Alex's
lips dunned, but he refused to rise to the provocation and maintained instead a
lofty silence as they progressed around the next bend where they found a small,
stony beach that Ginny decided would be perfect. Alex flung himself on his back
on the bank, gazing deliberately upward into the early evening sky as she threw
off her clothes with a sigh partly of relief and partly of disgust at their
sweat-stiffened, dust-caked condition. Ginny cast a glance at the supine
figure, then shrugged, telling herself that she felt far too bedraggled and
filmy to wish to attract his attention anyhow. Squaring her shoulders, she
marched to the water's edge and dipped her toe in experimentally. The water was
cold, much colder than the southern rivers of her home county.
Alex
turned his head, watching her through half-closed eyes. He hadn't meant to but
somehow couldn't help himself. She had a magnificent back, long and narrow, the
spine straight as a the. As he watched, she unpinned her hair and let it fall
down her back, running her hands through it to free the kinks. His eyes roamed
greedily down her length, lingering over the nipped-in waist before traversing
the neat roundness of her buttocks that he could feel just by looking. His
hands curled, cupping the muscular curves in memory, then flattened to stroke
over her thighs, again so long and slender, down to play in the soft hollow
behind her knee. It always made her squirm and wriggle when his tongue licked
that sensitive spot. He smiled and, forgetting that he was not supposed to be
observing the nymph at her ablutions, turned on his side, propping his head on
his elbow, and watched with unabashed pleasure.