A Perilous Secret

by Jane Wetherby

  “I see,” I said.

  “What of you?” he asked. “You dance nearly as well as you paint. Where did you learn?”

  I smiled. “To be quite honest, I was taught only briefly within the last year or so,” I said. “My father would dance with us when we were younger, though that was nothing more than twirls and dips for the pleasure of hearing our laughter.”

  “With a laugh as musical as yours, Miss Amelia, I imagine your father lived for it,” he said.

  My face turned scarlet as we stepped out into the dark street, the moon high in the starry sky overhead.

  The air was cool against my flushed skin, and I took a deep breath of the fresh air. It cleared my mind and reminded me of all the wonderful experiences I had already had that evening.

  “Shall we go for a walk in the gardens?” he asked.

  I followed his hand, which pointed down the street. He was correct that we weren’t the only ones who had stepped out for some fresh air. Other couples were strolling up and down the dark street, their silhouettes stark against the light of the candles coming from the windows all up and down the street.

  “I had not realized how hot the ballroom had been,” I said, fanning my face as we started down the street. “With so many people and so much dancing.”

  “It is always invigorating to step out, even for a moment,” he said. “I always find the night sky to be so utterly soothing.”

  He stopped at a break between the buildings and pointed down what appeared to be a narrow, tree-lined path. Another couple had just turned down that way, and another seemed to be emerging from it. “Would you like to go walk through the gardens?”

  “Indeed,” I said.

  When I had imagined spending time with the colonel, I had not imagined it would be by the light of the moon in the coolness of the green gardens after a ball. I found my heart longing to remain close to him, but there was still a nagging thought at the back of my mind, reminding me to be careful.

  I did hardly know him, after all, even if he seemed to compliment me at every turn.

  “I hope I was not being too presumptuous this evening,” the colonel said, stopping before a bench bathed in moonlight. He gestured for me to sit, which I gratefully did. I had not realized how tired I was after the dancing.

  “How so, sir?” I asked.

  “By stealing you away for so many dances,” he said. “And not just that, but interrupting your dance with Mr. Franklin. You were very kind to me, but I fear that I may have upset you by doing so.”

  “Oh, no, Colonel, please do not think that,” I said, reaching out to him with an outstretched hand. “Mr. Franklin is a nice man, to be certain. But I was very pleased to see you when you came into the dance. To be quite honest, Mr. Franklin was rather dull, and I much prefer your company.”

  I surprised myself by saying something as forward as that.

  He smiled. “Well, I am pleased to hear it. I would consider him a friend, but he is quite insistent on discussing topics that interest him, and him only. As I am sure you witnessed.”

  I giggled. “Yes, indeed.”

  He turned his face up toward the moon, inhaling deeply.

  He was so incredibly handsome. And here he was, stealing away to a quiet corner of the town with me so that we could have some time to talk.

  This was serious, was it not? These moments were the sort that most women dreamed of. If he was willing to seek time with me, then surely that meant…

  A group of laughing couples passed by us, most of whom nodded at us as they walked, the ladies’ gowns pretty even in the light of the moon.

  “I wondered if I would find you out here.”

  It was as if I had fallen into an icy lake. I stared around and found Lady Voss standing there off to the side, near the path leading around the buildings.

  This was the worst thing that could possibly happen.

  She walked over to us, her shoes striking the cobblestones with a sharp clack.

  “William, I am surprised at you,” Lady Voss said. “Coming out here on your own with a young woman. Do you know what this could do to your reputation?”

  “My dear aunt,” Colonel Strickland said. “How could my reputation be in question when there are others out here among us? It isn’t as if I have stolen her away to some private room. I would never dream of compromising her integrity so.”

  Lady Voss’s eyes narrowed. “You know that we have discussed this, William,” she said in a low voice, leaning toward him. “I have selected a proper bride for you, not someone who—” she looked sidelong at me and dropped her voice even further. “Someone of unknown origins. I realize she is the niece of Sir Hayward, but aside from that, we know very little.”

  “And you believe that matters to me?” the colonel said with a chuckle. “My dear aunt, I appreciate your constant diligence and support in my life, but I am a grown man, quite capable of making my own decisions. I care deeply for you, but I must ask you to allow me to make my mind up on my own.”

  Lady Voss bristled. “You do not understand, William. I am the only one who can ensure you will marry well. Given your history, I would have thought it would have been much clearer to you that your choices would be quite limited.”

  “Perhaps,” the colonel said. “But I am not ashamed of who I am or what direction my life has taken. I have done what is right, and I hope that whomever I marry will understand that.”

  I stared at him. This was the first time I had heard him mention his past, the first hint that I had seen that what Lady Byron and Mrs. Lowell had said was at all the truth. It made my heart ache. What happened?

  “You will regret ever turning down my help,” Lady Voss said. She turned and stared at me, her nostrils flaring. “You never should have come here. Everything was moving along just fine until you showed up and ruined everything.”

  “That is quite enough,” Colonel Strickland said, stepping between her and me. “Dear aunt, what has happened to you? When did you become so cruel?”

  I heard her heavy breathing before she turned on her heel, groaning with frustration, and stormed off back down the path. She disappeared around the buildings, likely heading back toward the assembly rooms.

  The colonel let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his short hair. “I must apologize for my aunt’s atrocious behavior,” he said in a low voice. “The things she said to you… They’re unforgivable.”

  I stared at my hands clasped tightly in my lap. They trembled slightly, as did my lower lip. “I have known for some time that she did not like us speaking,” I said. “I have known since after the first time we met.”

  He looked down at me and hurriedly sat down beside me. His gaze was intent as he searched my face. “What did she do?”

  “She… She asked me a great many questions. About my upbringing, my accomplishments. She wished to know about my family and my connections,” I said. I sniffed, willing the tears to remain dormant. “My aunt realized the reason she was scrutinizing me so much, and that was because of you and your apparent interest.”

  Colonel Strickland shook his head. “This is preposterous.”

  “I do not think that is all,” I said. “I think she sent you to Bristol so that you would be away from me.”

  “I figured that out myself,” he said. “That conniving woman. Stooping so low, deciding to be so utterly manipulative…” He rose to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of me. “Why would she be so heartless?”

  “I know not,” I said. “But she seems utterly determined to keep the two of us apart.”

  “And that makes absolutely no sense to me,” he said. “She has spent more time with you than even I have. How can she not see your genteel demeanor? The depth of your heart and soul on display in your smile?”

  That drew a smile across my face. “I’m flattered, Colonel,” I said.

  “It is the truth,” he said. He shook his head, hands on his hips. “I care not what she thinks. She had been overly controlling
of me since I was a boy. It was her decision that I should join the military in the first place. Not that I disliked the idea. In fact, I am pleased I did. However, she takes credit for all the choices I have made. I know not why, when she has sons of her own that she can dote on and run ragged.”

  My throat grew tight. He mentioned his time in the military once again. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to confront his past?

  “Sir,” I said, cautious, as if I were approaching a deer making as little noise as possible. “You mentioned your time in the military. You have since left?” I asked.

  “Oh,” he said, and his anger quickly shifted to caution himself. “Well… yes,” he said.

  He resumed his seat on the bench beside me.

  “You said that you felt you were right about what you did,” I said. “And that you would want whoever it was you married to understand.”

  “Indeed,” he said. His eyes were no longer on me but on his own hands, which were uncomfortably knotted together. His usual charm and joyful nature had disappeared, and a rather timid, nervous man had taken his place.

  “Sir… If I may be so bold. What happened, exactly?” I asked.

  He lifted his head and stared off into the gardens. More couples were wandering among the hedgerows, their voices murmuring low, echoed by the chirping of crickets and small frogs. I imagined that they were not having as in depth a conversation as we were, and I was beginning to regret ever bringing it up in the first place.

  “You must know, Miss Amelia,” he said. “That a man’s past does not always define a man in his present.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said. Those words… They seemed to be the sort of phrases a man with regrets might say.

  “I suppose you ought to know, as I am certain the rumors will likely reach your ears before long,” he said.

  It was clear this was taking great effort to discuss, and I wondered if I had pushed him too far.

  Even if I had, I had to know. If anything was going to work out with him, then I needed to know the truth. No matter what it was.

  “I… was discharged from the military,” he said. “I did not leave, as I have perhaps made it seem, of my own accord.”

  There was a great heaviness in his words that made my heart ache for him.

  I waited a long moment, debating about whether or not to ask any further questions. The moments passed in silence, and he did not speak any further.

  I glanced over at him, afraid to break the silence, when I saw it.

  There was a rather haunted look on his face. For a brief moment, it was as if he was somewhere else, living what must have been a horrible moment in his life. There was a gauntness to his eyes, and all the light had left him.

  I wondered if I should touch him in order to stir him from his reverie, but he shook his head and glanced over at me.

  It was as if he had just experienced whatever darkness was in his past all over again.

  “My apologies,” he said, smiling at me, some of his warmth returning. “We should not be discussing such morose things on such a lovely night. Would you like to return to the ballroom, see if we can have one last dance together this evening?”

  He held his hand out to me, and it was clear that he was trying very hard to keep a smile on his face.

  “Of course,” I said, taking his hand.

  Together, we strolled out of the gardens, my hand in his arm again.

  As we walked, we discussed the coming weeks and other social gatherings where we might be able to spend time together. I rather liked the idea of seeing him again, but I could not shake the unease that had returned at the mention of his past.

  Lady Byron and Mrs. Lowell had been correct. He had been discharged from the military, and by the expression on his face, it must have been something terrible that happened.

  I feared the depths of what he had experienced. Had he been responsible for something tragic? Had he gone against the orders of his officers?

  Of course, I feared that he had seen the worst and committed the worst. What if he killed a man thoughtlessly? What if he used the military as an excuse to murder without restraint?

  These were all terrible, and very likely untrue.

  But nevertheless…

  Would he ever be able to recover from the trauma he saw? Would he be able to find happiness in his life, peace from his past?

  He told me that a man’s past did not define who he was in the present, but I was not so sure anymore. The look on his face had told me that he was still governed by his past, still was able to be lost in the memories of it.

  I had heard stories of men returning from the wars in France. They would come back completely different than when they had gone in, having seen horrors that were indescribable. They would turn to all manner of distractions, some quite destructive. It was not uncommon for men to lose their earnings in gambling, or in bets on fights, or even drinking.

  Had he already turned to one of those habits? Was he simply good at hiding it?

  “Miss Amelia?” Colonel Strickland asked.

  I blinked, staring up at him. “Yes?”

  “I asked if you were thirsty and would like some tea or wine.”

  Wine. Did that mean…?

  “Tea would be fine,” I said. “Especially given the hour.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Then we can return to the ballroom.”

  We danced twice more that evening, and it was as if our conversation about his discharge from the military had never happened. His smiles had returned, as did his laughter.

  I found my heart torn. He was both good and modest, yet he harbored some past that he was unwilling to divulge.

  Given that knowledge, would I be able to marry him? Would it be appropriate for me to ask about his past when he seemed as if he did not wish to discuss it?

  I was not certain, but I did know that it did not change the way that I felt about him.

  It did make me more cautious, though. It made me confused. It made me wonder about the future, and if I could marry him knowing he carried such dark shadows within his heart. Once all the romance died away and we settled into the normalcy of life as a married couple, would his past be unearthed, on display for us to have to deal with, day in and day out? Would it affect his life? His children?

  It made me wonder if there were too many questions about what life could be like with him, and that thought alone was enough to break my heart.

  13

  “And in all my years, I have never seen anything more romantic,” Aunt Patience said, the tea in the cup in her hand very nearly spilling out over the side in her elation. “Well, of course, you are quite the romantic, Sir Hayward. But never had you intercepted a dance the way that Colonel Strickland did.”

  She looked at me across the parlor. It was just her, Uncle Charles, and me after breakfast. The air was rather humid and stuffy, with a haze settling over the world, the first signs that summer was indeed approaching.

  I sat at the window once again, staring down into the street below.

  “Sir Hayward, do you not agree that this was a great achievement for our dear Amelia?” Aunt Patience asked. “For him to dote on her so. Surely a proposal is not far behind.”

  “Indeed,” Sir Hayward said, folding his newspaper. “I daresay she must be rather pleased about all this.”

  “Perhaps I would be,” I said. “If I knew that I had not upset Lady Voss so.”

  Aunt Patience rose from her chair and crossed the room to sit on the low bench beside me. “I understand, my dear. But you must also think of yourself in this situation. You are quite fond of the colonel, yes?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But—”

  “Then that is all that matters,” she said. “If he is to propose, then we have succeeded in finding you a proper match. Lady Voss will come to terms with it, in time. It may just simply mean that she will need to accept it for what it is. I know she means well, but she will come to love you just as I know she loves him.”

&nbs
p; I was not entirely convinced.

  I rose from my seat at the window. “My apologies, dear aunt, but I must excuse myself. The night left me rather tired, and this heat is making me feel a little under the weather.”

  “Oh, yes, of course dear,” Aunt Patience said. “You should go rest.”

  I smiled and thanked them both before excusing myself to go back to my room.

  The air in the hall was much cooler than in the parlor, though it was quite stuffy as I ascended the floors to the room where I was staying. As soon as I entered, I threw open every window and breathed in the air, willing a breeze to pass through and clear my mind.

  Ever since the ball the night before, I could only think of one thing, and that was the colonel. Yet, I could not seem to make up my mind about him.

  If anything, I felt much stronger about him than I ever did before, but it was as wide as it was deep. I worried about his heart, about the condition it was in. How truthful was he with me? Were his smiles nothing more than a ploy to lure me in and convince me that all was well? Was he attempting to convince himself of it, too?

  My mind was so filled with questions, and I was not quite sure where I could, or should, turn. I needed answers, and I needed guidance.

  Aunt Patience seemed to think that the colonel was ready to propose, and the thought alone was enough to make my knees weak. That is what I had wanted, yes? I had come to Bath with the hopes of finding a match that was as good as the one my sister had made.

  My sister… How was this for her when it all unfolded? When did she know that she wished to be married to Mr. Thorne?

  I thought I remembered hearing her say something about how difficult things had been for her for a while. She expressed the fact that they had struggled with something, and at once, I realized I must know what she had experienced.