Miss Sally's Unsuitable Soldier

by Maggie Dallen

  Their maid had been trailing along behind them but Sally and Rebecca had told her to feel free and do her own errands and take some time for herself. The two girls had both required some time to talk amongst themselves. Shopping had never been high on Sally’s list of priorities, but she could absolutely admit that having some time alone and outdoors with one of her sisters felt like the best form of comfort right now.

  Not that she needed comforting.

  But she did need a respite from the cacophony of thoughts and feelings that had been brewing and swelling with each passing minute that she spent in Sebastian’s company.

  Rebecca squeezed her arm again. “Oh, I wish Hattie and Abigail could be here with us. And Minerva, too, of course. But something tells me she’s having more fun than any of us with that pirate of hers.”

  “Undoubtedly.” Sally frowned at the thought of her other two sisters. “I do hope Abigail is getting on all right with Mr. Calhoun.”

  Rebecca giggled. “I believe our dear, sweet sister is more than pleased to be spending so much time alone with the scowling giant.”

  “Rebecca!” she said with a shocked gasp.

  Rebecca shrugged, unrepentant. “What? It’s true! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way she blushes and ducks her head whenever his name is mentioned.”

  Sally made a noncommittal sound. She had noticed. More than that, she’d noticed the way Abigail had insisted on coming along each and every day while Sally had been tasked with changing his bandages and making sure his wound did not fester. Still, it was hard to imagine their sweetest, most maternal sister falling in love with an oversized growling beast like Mr. Calhoun.

  But then again, she’d been shocked to discover that prim and proper Minerva had fallen in love with a mysterious pirate. So perhaps Sally was not the sharpest sister when it came to matters of the heart.

  Not wishing to speculate any longer about Abigail, she turned her attention to the youngest. “At least we can be confident that Hattie is all right—”

  “Oh yes!” Rebecca interjected. “She’s likely relishing the silence in the house. All the better for her to read her novels.”

  Sally laughed, trying her best not to think about Sebastian, or how he’d offered up his library for the youngest Jones sister.

  In fact, not thinking about Sebastian was precisely why she’d been so keen on joining Rebecca when she’d insisted on going into town. Rebecca was hoping to find some new ribbons to match the gown she would wear at the upcoming ball. Word had recently arrived that the elder brother would be back in time for the event and every lady at the manor had fallen into some sort of frantic frenzy to outdo one another and impress the heir to the earldom.

  Sally watched the excitement with some amusement. More than a little amusement, in fact, when Sebastian was at her side, whispering silly and inappropriate comments about the overall ridiculousness afoot.

  She scowled at the path before her, the sidewalk crowded on this sunny afternoon.

  There she’d gone again. Thinking about Sebastian.

  “Isn’t it nice to be outside?” Rebecca said with a sigh.

  Sally nodded. It was nice to be outdoors, though she’d spent more than her fair share outside with Sebastian over the past few days. Riding lessons had become a part of their daily routine, and those lessons often ended with a race on foot or a long walk to explore his family’s property.

  He hadn’t suggested a dance lesson again, and for that she was grateful.

  Her belly twisted as if to call her a liar.

  Well, she was grateful and...perhaps just a little disappointed. She shook her head. Which was just plain foolishness. How many times had she warned Rebecca not to let her head be turned by a gentleman during her stay here?

  And now look at them. Rebecca had been fitting in marvelously with the ladies of the group. True to their word the other day, they’d made a point of inviting Rebecca along to every outing, including her in their gossip and their games.

  If they still found her pitiable and odd, like the rest of their family, they did not let on in the way they treated her. And Sebastian had been right. There seemed to be some truly kind people in the crowd of guests as well.

  They were just a little harder to find.

  Sally took a deep breath and tried her best to clear her head of any more thoughts of Sebastian. That was what this day was all about, after all. Only a few more days left at the manor and the doctor would arrive and she and her sister would be free to go.

  You don’t need to rush off, Sebastian had said this morning as they’d stopped chasing one another up a hill long enough to lean over and catch their breath.

  That right there was when Sally knew she had to take Rebecca up on her request to take a trip into town, so that she might get her head on straight.

  It wasn’t so much what he’d said, but how he’d said it. The look in his eyes. A look she was growing used to.

  A look she was growing far too fond of.

  It was a look filled with affection and warmth and all sorts of feelings that had no place between them.

  “Ooh, this is the shop I was telling you about,” Rebecca said, releasing her grip on Sally’s arm. “Let’s pop in for just one—” She stopped speaking so abruptly that Sally looked over. Alarm coursed through her at the sudden pallor in her sister’s face.

  “Rebecca? Rebecca, what is it?”

  But Rebecca’s attention was caught by something in the distance. Sally turned to look and saw nothing but a crowd full of people jostling about. “Rebecca, dear, whatever is the matter?”

  Her sister gave her head a little shake, making her curls bounce. “It’s nothing, just…” She let out a huff of humorless laughter. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  Sally gripped her hand. “Of course I won’t. What did you see?”

  Rebecca licked her lips and finally met her gaze. “I thought I saw our mother.”

  Sally’s jaw dropped but she couldn’t find a single word to say in response. Their mother. Like Sebastian and his family, their mother was a topic that was rarely brought up.

  In fact, she was almost never mentioned. As far as the rest of the world knew, their mother was dead. Lost at sea in a tragic accident. But her daughters knew better. Their father did not discuss her much after he’d broken the news that their mother wasn’t coming home. That she’d chosen a life of adventure and excitement at sea over her own family.

  They’d been young. So very young. But old enough to remember her. Old enough to miss her.

  Sally glanced in the direction Rebecca had been staring.

  They’d been old enough to remember what she looked like.

  “I must have been mistaken,” Rebecca said. She squeezed Sally’s hand tightly. “Right?”

  Sally nodded, but her stomach was churning with a sensation she could not name. She tried to smile for Rebecca’s sake. “It was probably just someone who looked similar.”

  Rebecca nodded, but she was still pale and she didn’t seem convinced.

  “Come, let’s go find you those ribbons you were after.” Sally led the way inside, more to help her sister recover from the shock than any great desire to be surrounded by notions.

  But once inside, she let her sister roam as she stared out the window. Just in case. When they left, they were both far more quiet. Uneasy, even. Sally couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched.

  Followed.

  She straightened her spine and held her sister’s arm tightly as they headed back toward the earl’s carriage that had brought them here today. As if by some unspoken agreement they’d decided to cut their trip to town short.

  Sally’s mind hadn’t stopped spinning since Rebecca had mentioned their mother, and through all the jagged fragmented thoughts and suspicions and attempts to discredit what her sister saw, there were some memories that refused to be ignored.

  Her father’s words on the dock after Minerva had left. The way he’d been so unnerved. So uncharact
eristically thrown. There was only one topic—one person—who’d ever had that effect on their normally staid and even-keeled father.

  And then there was what Roger had said. That smuggling cad who’d held Abigail at knifepoint back in the caves had said ‘she’ when talking about the pirate leader who’d contacted him about the shipment.

  Sally shut her eyes and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. There was no reason to think her mother was involved or in any way near. Their mother might as well have been dead at the bottom of the sea. That was where her memory belonged, as far as Sally was concerned.

  Feeling slightly more resolved, she opened her eyes once more just in time to see someone step in front of her path.

  Rebecca gasped and they stumbled to a stop. Sally couldn’t gasp. Gasping would have meant breathing. And facing their mother for the first time in nearly ten years on a crowded sidewalk in an unfamiliar town?

  The shock of it knocked the air right out of her lungs. Winded and reeling, her head spun and her heart crashed against her ribcage.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?” Rebecca whispered it and Sally heard her, even over the crowds who were grumbling their displeasure at having to move around the small circle of women.

  Sally, Rebecca...and their mother.

  “Hello, girls.” Their mother’s voice was soft and low. Just as Sally remembered it.

  “What are you—how are you—” Sally cut off her barely formed words when Rebecca gripped her arm even tighter.

  She had to pull herself together. Rebecca needed her to be strong. That was who she was. The strong one. The defender. The one who looked out for everyone else.

  She narrowed her eyes on the woman who looked so strikingly like Minerva, but for the fine lines at the corners of her eyes.

  Oh yes, she was her sisters’ protector, Minerva had been their leader, and Abigail their motherly figurehead.

  All because this woman had walked away.

  Anger was far easier to deal with than every other emotion bubbling to the surface, and she clung to it fiercely as she tipped her chin up in challenge. “What do you want?”

  Her mother’s smile faded—a smile so sweet and so very reminiscent of Abigail and Hattie, it threw her for a moment. “Sally, look at you. Such a beautiful young lady.” She turned to Rebecca and her lips pressed together, her nostrils quivering as she held back emotions. “And you. Darling little Becca, so very—”

  “No one calls me that.” Rebecca’s harsh tone had their mother’s eyes widening and Sally holding onto their sister tighter.

  Rebecca wasn’t prone to anger. Not in the slightest. Her sister’s uncharacteristic response made her uncertain of her own feelings. Perhaps because the sight of their mother brought with it such a mix it was impossible to focus on just one.

  “You’re right,” their mother said. She was dressed in a simple morning gown and standing demurely with her hands clasped before her, as though this was just some run-of-the-mill encounter. As if she was the epitome of maternal love and propriety.

  Sally had the most unnatural urge to laugh.

  It was hysteria, no doubt. But knowing that didn’t make this sensation go away, and she was forced to clamp her lips shut to hold herself together.

  Be calm for Rebecca. That was what she needed to do.

  “What are you doing here?” she managed.

  Her mother smiled and the flicker of gratitude in her eyes made Sally stiffen. She was not asking out of kindness, nor acceptance. “I came to see you girls, of course.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “Why here? Why now? You’ve never had any interest in us before.”

  Their mother jerked her head back as if she’d been slapped, but she recovered quickly. “That isn’t true. But I don’t expect you to believe me.” She shook her head slightly. “I know I have made too many mistakes for you to forgive. But I wanted…” Her clasped hands wrung together. “There are some things I wished for you to know. I needed you to know.”

  Sally looked to Rebecca. “We ought to get back.”

  “Please,” their mother said. “Just a few moments of your time.” She looked meaningfully toward a side street where there were no crowds.

  Again, Sally and her sister shared a look. Rebecca squeezed her arm. “Let us hear what she has to say before we leave.”

  Before we spend another decade not knowing where she is or why she’d left. That was what she didn’t say, but Sally understood all the same.

  “Very well.”

  Their mother gave them a sheepish little smile of gratitude before leading the way. Sally’s pulse roared in her ears as they followed. She struggled for calm, but her heart and her mind were overset with memories and suspicions, fears and hopes that she didn’t wish to acknowledge.

  “I know what your father told you,” their mother said as soon as they were off the main path. “I know why he said it. But I thought it time you heard my side of the story.”

  “What is that?” Rebecca asked.

  Sally marveled at her sister’s cool composure. She would have expected Rebecca to weep or faint at the sight of their long-lost mother, but instead she seemed calmer than Sally.

  Their mother sighed. “I never wanted to leave you. Your father refused to let me return—”

  “Lies,” Sally bit out between clenched teeth. Her skin was hot and prickly as anger swelled up at the mention of their father. “You were the one that left. He stayed. You do not get to stand here and make accusations against him.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened and her gaze flickered past them. She gave a quick shake of her head. Sally turned to see three large, burly men standing there as if...as if standing guard.

  She pulled Rebecca closer toward her and held her tight. “What do you want from us?”

  Their mother’s smile was small and sad. “I just wanted to see you. But when Rebecca here caught me following you, I thought—that is, I’d hoped—” She smiled at Sally. “But you are right. I should not come to you with those words. Your father is a good man, and he loves you. Everything he’s done, he’s done for you. Just like everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

  “You left us for our sake?” Bitterness laced Rebecca’s tone and once again Sally was stunned. Dry humor and wry tones were far more characteristic of Sally, or even Minerva. To hear it from Rebecca was alarming.

  Their mother’s chin tilted up. “I did, in fact. And to be fair to your father, the reason he insisted I stay away was for your sake as well. I did some…” She wet her lips as her hands flailed. “Underhanded things. I did them with the best intentions, but they were underhanded nonetheless. But you must know, I only ever had your best interests at heart—”

  “What sort of things?” Sally asked before her mother could finish speaking. She didn’t want to hear platitudes, and it was far too late for her mother to speak about their best interests.

  Her mother’s smile faded. “I’ll let your father tell you about that. He made his decision, and I respected that. But I never stopped loving you girls, and I just needed you to know that everything I have done since then has been for you. To provide you girls with every option, every possibility.” She took a step closer and reached out as if to touch them, but dropped her hand when they both stiffened. “All I want is your happiness.”

  Both sisters stared at the woman who looked at once so familiar and so foreign.

  After a long, tense silence their mother sighed and threw her hands out. “I am sorry. I truly am. I made mistakes and I… Well, I continue to make mistakes. But I’m trying to make things right for you girls, at least.”

  She looked so earnest, so very ingratiating and like their response would mean so much to her. Despite her anger, some part of Sally twisted with an unbearable ache at the sight of her mother’s agony. Sally glanced over at her younger sister before turning back to reply in a stilted voice. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “You believe me?” Desperation lit their mother’s eyes and it made
Sally’s throat feel too tight. She nodded. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her sister nod as well.

  “Maybe one day…” Their mother’s lips quivered a bit as she trailed. “No, for now this is enough. Seeing you girls, talking to you… It was more than enough.”

  “Captain,” one of the men called from behind them. “We’d best be off.”

  Sally’s eyes widened as her mother responded with a nod.

  Captain? Her mother was their captain?

  Their mother smiled at them one more time, her gaze raking over them fiercely as if she were trying to capture every detail.

  Sally wasn’t certain how long she and Rebecca stood there in silence after their mother disappeared. It was Rebecca who finally broke it with a whisper. “What now?”

  Sally swallowed and shut her eyes. What now? She had no idea. “I have a patient waiting for me and you have a ball to prepare for.” She turned to face Rebecca, whose lips were quivering in the exact same way their mother’s had.

  But Rebecca nodded in agreement. “Yes. We should get back. After all, nothing has changed. But Sally…”

  Sally nodded. “We need to talk to father.”

  Rebecca sighed and linked arms with her once more and together they walked slowly toward the street where their carriage awaited. “I don’t think I can bear to smile and make conversation tonight at dinner with the others.”

  “Then I shall make our excuses,” Sally said. Worry had her watching her sister closely. She was feeling more than a little shaken, and everyone knew Sally was better suited to handle stress and shock.

  “We should leave as soon as we’re able,” Rebecca continued. “We need to hear what Father has to say.”

  Sally glanced over in question. “As soon as we’re able,” she echoed.

  Rebecca nodded but she glanced over with a furrowed brow. “Just not before the ball.”

  Sally let out a choked laugh and after a brief moment, Rebecca clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle.

  The girlish sound calmed something inside of Sally. For a moment there she’d forgotten just how strong her sister could be.