With This Ring (36 page)

Lydia had been so occupied with her
thoughts that she almost jumped when he spoke. “It probably doesn’t
matter,” she replied, keeping her voice calm. “Sam, if you would be
more comfortable there at his estate ….”

“
No. Lydia, sit down again and quit
fiddling with those coins. Could you take out one of these pillows
and help me lie back?” He smiled. “I like Percy well enough. He is
a better officer than you would think, but I can safely conclude
that conversation with him can be exhausting when one is in a
weakened state.”

Her solicitude returned. Drat that
man for wearing Sam down to a nub, she thought, as she removed her
pillow from behind the major’s head and placed it next to his.
Gently she helped Sam stretch out again, smoothing the blanket and
too shy to speak.

“
I didn’t want him to know about
Maria,” Sam said, then letting out his breath, he turned himself
more comfortably onto his side. “I do not think I could recuperate
in peace if Percy is continually reminding me how strange this
whole arrangement is.”

It is, isn’t it? she thought as she
prepared for bed. She took her time. Sam had closed his eyes almost
immediately, and she knew, with a pang, how tired his lieutenant
had made him. Dressed in Mrs. Innis’s extra nightgown, she stood
beside Sam a long time. Mr. Wilburn had paid her a visit in the
barbershop that morning to suggest to her that quite possibly Sam
would never have full use of his left arm again, not with such
gouging as he had been forced to do in his shoulder and back. He
says I am to tell you that you will probably look a trifle
lopsided, Sam, she thought, raising the blanket higher. You will be
a long time recovering. I wonder that you will be able to manage
your estate without some frustration, the kind that could turn you
bitter.

She lay down beside him, weary in
her heart and mind, and settled as close to him as she could. She
had discovered how much she liked the scent of wintergreen. His
back was no longer bandaged, but the fragrance remained in his
nightshirt. She breathed deep, thinking about Northumberland, and
wondering if she could drive him about in a gig, and learn
something about the Corn Exchange herself, if he needed her help.
He has only to ask, she thought as she closed her eyes. Will
he?

She continued her quiet work of
coaxing her husband to good health, making sure he ate, even when
he said he was not hungry, and slept when he said he was not tired.
She didn’t have to tell him what the surgeon had recommended to
her. One evening after bathing Maria and then herself in the
security of the Innis’s laundry room, they had returned to find him
standing and frowning in front of the mirror. Her heart nearly
broke when he frowned into the mirror and said to her reflection,
“I am not really symmetrical anymore, am I?”

“
No, you are not,” she said. She set
Maria on the floor, not sure whether to jolly him, or cry with him,
or just put her arms around him. With no more thought, she chose
the latter, wrapping her arms carefully around him as she rested
her head against his poor back.

“
Do you mind?” he asked, after a
long pause, then chuckled, even though she knew without seeing his
face that he was not laughing. “You’re the one who has to look at
me. You, and Maria, and my mother and aunt, my crofters, my
neighbors, everyone in my district, and shire, and my God, if I
ever go to Parliament to Lords ….”

“
Stop it. It isn’t that bad, and I’m
sure your tailor can add a little extra shoulder padding on that
side,” she said, and pushed him away from the mirror. She sat him
down in the window seat, and not caring if everyone on Market
Street was staring up at them, hiked up her skirts and sat on his
lap. Before he could say anything, she kissed him.

If she had ever wondered where her
skills lay, she wondered no more. Kissing Sam Reed on the mouth was
more pleasant than any nursing techniques that Mr. Wilburn had
recommended to her so far. Years of staring into her own mirror,
plus Mama’s barbed reminders, had acquainted her with the fact that
her mouth was a shade too large for beauty. As Sam returned her
clumsy efforts with enough polish and enthusiasm for them both, she
knew it wasn’t a defect—far from it. She hadn’t suspected that a
kiss could be so
involving.

Breathing was not a problem, at
least until her husband put his hand on her bare leg and moved it
up under her skirt. She could have sighed then with impatience that
she had adopted French drawers. It’s not as though I need them in
high summer, she thought as his hand stopped. Drat
fashion.

Still kissing her, his hand went to
the waistband of her drawers at the same time she felt another hand
pat her ankle. Startled, she pulled away from Sam with a homely
smack that made him smile, then stared down at Maria, who was
standing beside them and patting her leg.

“
Oh, you dear!” she said.

“
In all modesty, thank you,” Sam
replied, and the laughter was genuine in his voice now.

She kissed him again, then moved
from his lap when his hand came out from under her skirt. “Maria,
not you,” she said. “I’ll have other things to call
you.”

“
Oh, I hope so,” he replied as she
picked up Maria, cuddling the baby to her. “Come here, Maria,” he
said, and took the baby onto his lap. “Tell me what you think of
your deformed papa. Oh, my.” He did cry then, as Maria nestled
against his chest with a sigh of her own. Lydia said nothing until
he finished, beyond finding him a handkerchief when her legs felt
firm enough to hold her, and telling him to blow his
nose.

“
What if I cannot ride a horse?” he
asked as he set Maria down finally and motioned her
closer.

“
You will,” she assured him, serene
in her own confidence.

“
Until that happens, I do not know
why I cannot drive you here and there in a gig.” She dabbed at his
face with the handkerchief. “And I have always wanted to know all
about sheepshearing and horseshoeing, and lambing
and ….”

“
Liar,” he murmured, playing with
Maria’s curls as she bobbed up and down beside him, grinning and
displaying her teeth.

“
I am wounded,” she
replied.

“
No,
I
am,” he said with
amusement. “Or was. Will I do, Lydia? Pardon me if I seem anxious.
Possibly it matters.”

She touched Maria. “She seems to
think you will do, and I suspect the same.”

He grinned at her, and as much as
she felt embarrassed by the look in his eyes, she also felt relief
and peace. I have become so confident, she thought, even though I
am no closer to being a real wife.

“
Can you wait to find
out?”

It was a quiet question, with no one
but Maria and her to hear it. I think that talking about their own
prowess must embarrass men, she thought as she nodded, then
blushed. Of course, it is not every day that I leap into a man’s
lap and acquaint myself so thoroughly with his mouth.

“
I … I think I am not precisely
the same Lydia who agreed to marry you on such short notice in
London,” she said. Or am I? she asked herself. I wonder when I will
know for sure?

M
aria
walked the next morning, her hands up and her stomach pooched out
for balance, her eyes fierce with concentration. Lydia brought her
upstairs so Sam could watch, as the little one walked and fell,
pulled herself up, and walked again until she was wringing with
perspiration.

In another day, she could even turn
herself around and go in another direction. To Lydia’s enjoyment,
Maria would not allow anyone but Sam to hold her hand and walk with
her.

“
Such a determined little poppet,”
Mrs. Innis remarked that evening as they sat outside the inn in the
cool evening and watched Sam and Maria walk slowly toward them.
“She certainly takes after you, Mrs. Reed.”

“
Thank you,” she said. You would not
have known me five weeks ago, Lydia thought as she stood up at
their slow approach. I could hardly say boo to a goose
then.

“
She looks like the major, though,”
Mrs. Innis said, rising, too. “Wouldn’t you say so, Major
Reed?”

He stopped, and Maria looked up at
him, impatience stamped on her face. “I rather think she resembles
my wife, Mrs. Innis,” he said as he crooked his arm for Lydia to
take hold of him. “I never saw two prettier ladies.”

Mrs. Innis stood a moment, observing
them both. “I would say she is a nice blend of the two of you, and
isn’t that the pleasant thing about one’s children?” She laughed
and followed them into the pubic house. “I am only grateful that my
children did not inherit their father’s ears!”

“
Don’t you own to just a twinge or
two when Mrs. Innis declares that Maria looks like us?” she asked
that night in their room as she stopped Maria long enough to whisk
her dress over her head.

“
You’re becoming quite an expert at
scooping people from their clothing,” he commented as he leaned
back against the headboard and watched them from the comfort of his
bed. “Hush, now, Maria. Your mama is most efficient with us! I
never argue when she helps me from my trousers.”

She blushed and would not look at
him. “You can probably take care of yourself now,” she murmured as
she stopped Maria from another circuit around the room, to the
baby’s intense displeasure. Pinning Maria under protest between her
knees, she held her long enough to pull on a sleeping shirt. She
put her on the bed for a fresh nappy and soakers, then turned her
loose to crawl across the mattress. She laughed as Maria flopped
herself against Sam’s leg. In a moment she was tugging at her
eyelids, and then she was asleep, exhausted from the business of
the day.

Sam watched her, his hand on Maria’s
back. “No, I do not feel any qualms when Mrs. Innis sees Maria’s
resemblance to us. Not even a twinge. She’ll have a much better
life with us than she ever would at St. Catherine’s. Of course,” he
pointed out, “I do not have your finely honed conscience, do
I?”

She bent over them both to pick up
Maria. “I believe you do, Sam.” Holding her burden close, she sat
down when he moved slightly. “I do not recall any other officers
investing themselves so thoroughly for their men in the hospital.”
She could not help the slight shudder that passed through her and
caused Maria to stir. “I think your solicitude at the expense of
your own health almost killed you. Do not quiz me about being the
only one of us who cares, Sam. Maybe I learned from
you.”

He was silent then. Deftly she
transferred Maria to the pallet on the floor that Suzie and Mrs.
Innis had devised, when Maria had decided that she would not sleep
unless the major was close by. I can appreciate that, she told
herself. Already I seem to require his warmth and that pleasant
odor of wintergreen to see me to sleep.

With a sigh, she sat in the window
seat and combed her hair. The street below was quite empty of
traffic, even though it was not yet dark. She could hear the low
murmur of voices in the public room below, with the occasional
punctuation of laughter. It was August now, and still the welcome
warmth of the sun lingered. She would remind Sam to sit outside
again tomorrow in the side yard where Mrs. Innis hung her laundry
and let the sun work its own healing on his bare back. He will be
as well as I can make him, she thought, satisfied with
herself.

She stood up to remove her dress,
then stopped in modest confusion. Sam was not asleep; far from it.
He was observing her with a half smile and a degree of watchfulness
that made her pause with her hand on her top button.

“
I thought you were asleep,” she
said, realizing the moment she spoke that it sounded so stupid.
Obviously he was wide awake. Swallowing her own shyness, she sat on
the bed beside him, and took a good look. For the first time in
their acquaintance, there was nothing in his eyes but admiration.
While caring for the wounded at St. Barnabas, she had been struck
by the preoccupation in their eyes, no matter how hard she worked
to distract them. She doubted whether the wounded were aware of it
themselves, that inward turning of expression as though they looked
upon pain from the inside out. She did not see that look in the
major’s eyes now. This was not to say the look would not be there
again, but for right now, this evening, his eyes were free of it,
and she knew he did not hurt.

He hadn’t answered her inane
question. It didn’t appear to have even registered in his brain. He
lay there watching her, and when she continued to unbutton her
dress, his smile widened. “Mr. Reed, you realize that if anything
we do tonight causes you a medical problem, Mr. Wilburn will give
you such a scold,” she said, hoping that she sounded more serene
than she felt.

“
I’m all aquiver about Mr. Wilburn,”
he said.

She removed her dress, and placed it
over the chair, making sure that Maria slept. While Sam watched,
she slipped out of her petticoat and stood there in her chemise and
bare feet, with toes suddenly cold and a brain full of
indecision.

Her husband sat up and held out his
hand to her. She needed no other encouragement. In another moment
she was in his arms. “I’ll take my chances with the surgeon’s
wrath,” he whispered, and then he kissed her.