Miss Peterson & The Colonel (15 page)

Unfortunately that was not the only thing Lydia was obliged to wear. She was standing in her chemise when Martha held out a corset. 'Do I have to?'

'Yes, ma'am. The dress will not do up without it. I reckon I won't have to lace you in too tight. Your waist is slim already.'

When she was ready, Lydia regarded the result in the full length glass. 'It's a pretty colour. Rose is not a favourite of mine, but I quite like this gown.'

Although it was nipped in at the waist, not high under the bosom like all her other gowns, the damask silk emphasized her femininity. The high neck and long sleeves were exactly right for an early spring day. The overall effect was charming but somewhat marred by the toes of her boots showing beneath the hem.

'Are the others well rested?'

'Yes, and his lordship intends for us all to return with him. They are short staffed at present owing to an epidemic of measles.'

'That's fortunate.' She giggled. 'Well, for us, if not for the staff who are so afflicted.'

The welcome smell of coffee and crisply fried ham, eggs and mushrooms greeted her when she emerged into the parlour. Her stomach gurgled loudly. 'Thank goodness. I'm starving, and it can only be a few hours since I cleared the tray that Mrs Bentley so kindly sent up.'

The Manse was familiar territory once she reached the handsome entrance hall. However, the butler glided forward and escorted her as if she were royalty to the grand drawing room. She was announced formally. She'd taken no more than three steps into the room when Edward swung her up in his arms, enveloping her in a bear hug.

'My dear girl, what a dreadful experience for you all. If you're ready, I would like to leave immediately. It's already past midday and will be dark in a few hours. The detour adds almost twenty miles to our journey. Ellen will be waiting anxiously. She was determined to come with me and only by promising to return this evening did I persuade her to remain behind.'

'I have no baggage to bring. I just wish to bid farewell to Mrs Bentley and the squire and I am ready. Is there room in the chaise for Martha?'

'Of course. No doubt she has informed you that I'm only too pleased to employ your staff for a few weeks. The remainder must stay here another night, then the chaise shall return to collect them.'

He was so eager to leave that she could not tell him she was expecting his brother that afternoon. She loved Simon. That much she was sure of, but she was uncertain whether they could make a match of it. They were so similar in temperament, both wishing to have their own way, both so fond of giving orders that she wondered if they could hope to reconcile their differences.

She sighed. No, far better to leave with a faint glimmer of hope than to know for certain there was no future for her with him.

Chapter Fifteen

The water swirled and roared transforming a mild-mannered stream to a raging torrent. Simon nodded to the major.

'I take it you have the necessary rope?'

'I never travel without it.'

Dawkins shouted instructions down the line and two soldiers trotted towards him, the first already uncoiling the rope from about his person. The trooper dismounted in order to attach one end to a tree trunk. The other he tied around his mount's neck. Simon had used the same procedure on more than one occasion when forced to cross a river with his men.

He smiled ruefully. His boots were about to be filled with water but with luck the rest of him would remain dry. Once the rope was firmly attached, the trooper kicked his horse and without hesitation the animal jumped into the river. It swam strongly across, head outstretched, and was safely to the other bank.

'That horse has done this before. Having a beast so comfortable in the water is a godsend in situations like this.'

'When I've used this method of securing a safe passage, it has been in water much warmer than this. Let's hope no one takes a ducking.' Simon was well aware that if anyone lost his grip on the rope he would be swept away, most likely to his death.

The soldier hadn't been carried too far from his intended exit. Hopefully this indicated that the current was not as strong as it looked on the surface. They had chosen their crossing place carefully as this method required stout trees opposite each other on both sides of the river.

The second soldier tested the rope then quickly attached a leather strap and buckled it tight. With one arm hooked through this, he kicked his horse into the water. The rope guided the animal and gave the rider much needed support.

'I shall go across next, Westcott, then you follow me. I'm sorry that you are obliged to get wet a second time.'

Simon watched, his eyes narrowed. He was unused to following orders, especially from a man he outranked. It was bad form for the men to see him being treated so casually. But it was too late to rectify matters; this was the major's command. Best to leave things as they were.

Dawkins reached the bank without mishap and Simon urged Brutus toward the water. Only as he pushed his arm through the loop of leather did he realize he had no idea if the gelding was comfortable swimming. He was about to find out. His horse hesitated on the bank, his ears laid back. Simon could feel the muscles bunching beneath him.

'Go on, Brutus, you've nothing to fear.' He kicked again and tightened his grip. The horse plunged forward. If Simon had not been prepared he would have somersaulted out of the saddle. 'Good lad. I knew you could do it.'

He hung on to the strap. His gelding was swimming strongly toward the far bank. The water was lapping above his knees, but his concentration was solely on reaching the far side safely. He did not see the tree trunk hurtling toward them. He heard the warning shout too late.

Brutus was struck behind the saddle. The impact sent the animal beneath the water and Simon found himself dangling precariously from the leather strap. He swung around and saw his horse being carried away.

'Stay where you are, Colonel. Sergeant Mayhew is right behind you. He'll push you to safety,' Dawkins shouted above the noise of the river.

Sure enough, a strong arm encircled his legs. He gripped the leather with both hands and was carried easily to the far side where the major pulled him ashore. Simon's boots were squelching, his unmentionables dripping, but he was scarcely aware of these discomforts.

'I must do what I can for my horse. You ride on, Dawkins. When I recover him I shall find you.' Not waiting for a response, he raced along the riverbank, praying he would be in time to guide his horse to safety.

*

During the tedious journey, Lydia discovered Simon had ridden out with Major Dawkins to apprehend the criminals. This meant he would not have been able to visit her so she was more sanguine about heading to Town. No doubt he would return himself when the matter was brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

'Edward, are you quite certain that Major Dawkins is in a position to promise Bracken Hall will be fully restored at no cost to ourselves?'

'I do not know for sure, but David seemed convinced of the man's sincerity. Anyway, my dear, if the money is not forthcoming I shall make up any shortfall.'

Her eyes brimmed. He was so kind and so very different from his brother. He patted her hand and she smiled across at him. 'You are the dearest brother anyone could wish for. David and I are a sore trial to you.'

'You are my family, and I your legal guardian.' His expression was rueful as he continued. 'I should have been more involved in your lives. Ellen worries so about you both; it is a precarious way to earn your living running a stud farm.'

'I cannot live at Bracken Hall until it's fully restored. For the first time in many years, I must relinquish control. I cannot imagine what I'm going to do to occupy my time.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Needlepoint is not an option, I imagine.'

'Neither is making morning calls and inane conversation with total strangers at musical evenings and
soirées.
'

'Well, my dear girl, at least you are spared that for the moment. Ellen will not be entertaining or attending functions until several weeks after she is delivered. She will be thrilled to have you there when her confinement takes place.'

Lydia attempted to look pleased. She dreaded being asked to be present at the delivery, to see her sister suffer and possibly die. She would avoid the birth if she could.

'I shall spend time with the boys. I love their company and they will need occupation these next few weeks. Ellen will need to rest.'

'The doctors have no fear that there will be a repeat of what happened when the boys were born. You must not fret, I am quite satisfied the outcome will be successful.'

Martha was sleeping soundly in the corner. If her abigail had been awake, such a conversation would have been impossible. One did not discuss intimate family details in front of even the most loyal retainer. Lydia settled back, letting her mind drift, wondering how she would occupy her time for the next six months. Even her morning rides in the park could not take place. She had not brought Pegasus with her this time and Edward's stable did not contain a mount he would consider suitable.

By the time they reached Brook Street it was quite dark. Martha was awake and followed Lydia from the carriage. Her nephews had been allowed to remain downstairs and were waiting in the hall to greet her. They threw themselves at her as she stepped inside.

Arthur hugged her knees. 'Aunt Lydia, we've been so worried. Mama says you're to come to her room immediately.'

How Ellen could have known she would return with Edward was a mystery. Had a groom galloped back with news of the disaster? 'As you can see, boys, I'm unharmed. Bracken Hall has not fared so well.'

George tugged at her skirt. 'Why are you wearing this funny gown? What's happened to your clothes?'

'Enough questions, young man. Kindly allow your aunt to refresh herself before she is obliged to answer you.'

'Yes, Papa.'

'I shall come to see your mama in a few minutes. Why don't you run along ahead and tell her that I'm coming? You could ask her to order me a refreshing cup of tea as well, if you please, as I expect we have missed dinner.'

Arthur skipped around her. 'You haven't. You haven't. Mama has told Cook to keep it waiting for you.'

Not to be outdone by his brother George chimed in. ' We had nursery tea ages ago. We…'

Edward intervened. 'Enough, boys. You have been given a task, get on with it.'

Happy to have something to do, the children raced up the stairs to inform their mother of her arrival. 'Thank you for coming to fetch me, Edward. I shall see you at dinner.'

Ellen was resting on her day bed, but was delighted to see Lydia. 'News of your catastrophe travelled ahead of you, my love. Edward sent his groom on one of your magnificent horses and he arrived three hours ago. I just knew something was amiss. I was beside myself with worry until I had the news that you were all safe.'

'Do you know, Edward said not a word about having one of his team stolen by the traitors and the interior of his new carriage all but ruined.'

'Of course he did not, he will have been as relieved as I that those he holds most dear emerged unscathed from their encounter with those dreadful men.' She pointed to a small chair that was already drawn up close to her. 'Sit there and tell me all about it. I do wish Simon had returned with you, but there you are. He is a soldier through and through—his duty must always come first with him.'

This was something Lydia had already fathomed for herself. It merely confirmed her fears: a wife would be an irksome burden to a military career. 'Do you think he might resign his commission now that Bonaparte is captured and the war with France is over?'

'I should think it highly unlikely, my love. After all, what else would he do with himself? He has no estate to run, no business interests. He's been an officer forever. He knows no other life.'

All hope was gone. She would not become a nuisance to him. He would be constantly worrying about her welfare and might put his own life at risk because of her. Her happiness must be sacrificed in order to keep him safe.

Making this decision was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Her heart was breaking, but her beloved family would never know her sorrow.

If Simon were to become a civilian, she would not hesitate to accept his offer. Now she understood that love did indeed conquer all – their relationship would have been a tempestuous one. However, they would both have learnt to compromise and the union would have been all the stronger for it. She could even have faced her fear of childbirth in order to hold
his
baby in her arms.

That could never be.

'I think it a great pity, Ellen, for Simon is an attractive man. He would make someone an excellent husband, but I doubt any young lady would be prepared to follow the drum and traipse from country to country in order to be at his side.' She smiled with false brightness. 'To be married to a man who was forever abroad would be no marriage at all. I could not contemplate a union with a gentleman who did not have an estate in this country. I have never had the desire to travel and especially not to far flung places like the colonies.'

'My dear, I'm sorry to hear you say so. I had such high hopes that you and Simon might make a match of it. If you loved him you would not hesitate; I should be happy to follow my darling husband across the globe in order to remain at his side.'

Lydia laughed out loud. 'That's doing it too brown, Ellen. It's Edward who follows you from place to place not the other way around.'

The boys burst in to announce that refreshments were being brought up from the kitchen and Cook had promised to send freshly baked scones to accompany the tea. When Lydia eventually returned to her apartment she was sure her sister had no notion how she felt about Simon. Plans were already in hand for a mantua maker to call the next day in order to make her a new wardrobe.

Ellen had given her sufficient underwear and several gowns that would serve for now. Martha was, at this very moment, adding frills around the hems in order to lengthen them. The only footwear she presently possessed were her riding boots. Even her sister's soft, indoor slippers were uncomfortably tight.

Hopefully the modiste might have something suitable she could wear. The instructions sent to this establishment were to bring any completed garments. It was a common occurrence for fashionable ladies to change their minds when they saw the finished article, thus leaving the seamstress with garments to dispose of.

That night all thought of such fripperies was forgotten when she was awakened with the news that her sister had begun her travail. It was too soon – the baby was not due for another four weeks. With sinking heart Lydia threw on her borrowed garments and hurried to answer the summons from Edward. She was required immediately in Ellen's bedchamber.

*

The river widened as it curved eastward. Simon could no longer see the head of his horse above the raging waters. He vaulted a gate and squelched through a waterlogged meadow. He had to reach his horse before the river joined a tributary and headed directly for the sea.

He pounded around the bend, stopping in delighted surprise. Trotting toward him was his mount, ears pricked and obviously none the worse for his experience. 'Brutus, you're a marvel! Come here to me. Let me see if the log caused you any serious harm.'

The animal dropped his huge head and slobbered on his shoulder. A quick examination showed a slight graze behind the girth, but nothing that would cause any discomfort when ridden. Simon scrambled back into the saddle and rammed his water-filled boots into the stirrup irons.

'We must find the others, old fellow. A brisk gallop shall warm us both. I want this business over, I have a pressing visit to make this afternoon.'

The gelding cleared several massive hedges without hesitation, thundering across country in the general direction of the soldiers. Simon reined back as he approached the deserted farm in which David had suggested the gang might hide during daylight hours. It would not do to approach at speed; he must dismount and cover the remaining distance on foot.