Major Lord David

by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

  The major’s presence, or perhaps Grenby’s departure, ap peared to signal the rest of the company, for Billie was immediately flooded with well-wishes and adieus, until-after scarcely more than five minutes-she and Major Trent were left alone with Ephie.

  “Should you like some refreshment, Major?” Ephie asked, making-at least as it seemed to Billie-an excess of bustle and noise with the china.

  “No, thank you, Miss Caswell. I have all I might desire.” At that Ephie smiled benignly and settled herself once again to embroider. Though her aunt now sat at the far end of the hearth, Billie fervently wished her even farther.

  “You look lovely, Miss Billie,” Lord David said, at once drawing her attention from her aunt. Her gaze met his with the recognition that he always seemed curiously familiar, as though he had simply stepped away for an hour or two, though the interval might have been months. “What would you call this color?” he asked, as her bemused gaze focused on his gesturing hand. “The color of your sash?”

  “Blue,” she said, instantly aware that that would not do, just as the simple word blue could never quite describe his eyes.

  Lord David’s smile actually reached those eyes.

  “I had thought the drapers more imaginative,” he remarked. “Surely it must be called `ocean’ or `sea mist’?” As he held her look, Billie wished she might avoid this conversation-though she had been anticipating it for some weeks.

  “Major .. ” she began, only to see him shake his head.

  “I think it should be David now. As we are such … old friends.”

  “Perhaps you ought to hear me first,” she said.

  And at that rather ominous caution, his look sobered. “I must compliment you, Miss Caswell, on your performance the other night-both at the piano and in the face of considerable danger.”

  “You called me a fool.”

  “Just so” He shrugged. “All bravery is foolish. But only one man in a thousand would have stood his ground as you did, untrained.”

  “Oh, but I am trained, Major,” she admitted easily. “All of my life, I’ve had to force myself-always-to match my brothers for boldness. Indeed, sometimes to exceed them”

  “Whatever its basis, ‘tis bravery.” He smiled. “I should prefer ten of you to a battalion.”

  She swallowed, suspecting she had never before been more highly complimented.

  “I have not thanked you,” she managed, “for the lovely porcelain box. It is charming and does indeed remind me of my brothers. ‘Twas thoughtful of you to bring it so far.”

  Again he shrugged. “Paris no longer seems far. As I mentioned, I was struck by the figures. Your brothers mean much to you, and you are very good to them” His gaze assessed her. “I’ve encountered Mr. Morty occasionally in town this past week. But he did not attend the musicale?”

  “No. He-he seems to have fixed his interest on a certain young lady. She is also just out this season-Esther Urquhart?” As he shook his head, Billie feared she threatened to bore him; the season’s debutantes could not be of the slightest interest to him. Except, of course, for Miss Athington.

  “And your youngest brother, Edward? I have not seen him since the New Year.”

  “Edward will be joining us here soon, for end of term, at Easter.” There was a silence as Christopher’s whereabouts and activities went unacknowledged. Kit’s rudeness in the kitchen at her birthday was only the least of Billie’s concerns. She thought it likely that Kit’s heavy wagers had come to David’s notice, as the ton seemed most eager to broadcast all. “My brother Jack writes that he will soon make me an aunt,” she relayed instead, and as brightly as possible.

  “My compliments to him,” David said. “He sold out when?”

  “Last May. Almost a year ago” The opening was one she could not ignore. “Do you-do you intend now to relinquish your commission, Major?”

  His relief was almost palpable.

  “You must determine it, Miss Caswell,” he said with a smile. “In January you released me. I grant I’d been unforgivably rude. But given the uncertain circumstances-there at the doorstep-and since you have not alerted your father, or-I should say-since he has not alerted mine-they still have their hopes”

  Whatever courage he had found to commend in her seemed to have deserted her. Billie’s gaze took in his striking uniform, with its bright red wool and elaborate braided epaulets.

  “Sometimes,” he continued softly, observing her, “a decision, any decision, is the only requirement. I should like one now-yes, no, or that you must have more time.”

  Billie swallowed. She did not truly wish to say no, but she could not condemn him to yes. And she could not ask again for more time; doing so would delay the decision he deserved. The major wished to be getting on.

  “No,” she said.

  His smile held. But something of humor fled his gaze. Billie suspected that no man could enjoy being refused, whatever the relief of it. She sensed also that no matter what she said, their connection was accepted, a given. There had always been an undercurrent that defied words.

  “You think we would not suit?” he asked lightly.

  “That is not the point.”

  “It is very much the point!” But he checked himself and partly turned from her. “I suppose it says a great deal about my vanity-that had you said yes, I would not have sought the reasons. But as you’ve told me no, and as we’ve always spoken openly with each other, perhaps you might share your reasons with me now? Despite your dismissal in January, I confess I’d expected to send an announcement to the Times.”

  She thought her jaw might actually have dropped. She’d had no notion he was so committed. But he had asked for an explanation….

  “First, then-the circumstances are not at all conducive to any … any lasting contentment. You should not-that is, we should not be held accountable for a moment’s indiscretion. ‘Tis not … enlightened.” As his eyes widened, she added, “I am certain that if either of us could return to the New Year, we would not repeat the mistake. That alone is in the nature of a test-repentance”

  He looked amused. “I assure you, Miss Billie, my thoughts have returned to the New Year quite often indeed, and with too much pleasure to believe myself at all repentant” As she blushed, he went on. “You cite the `circumstances’ that bound us as something entirely negative. But could they not also be an opportunity?”

  “How do you mean, Major?”

  “Why, that we established that we like each other well enough-before the interference of our fathers. And we are neighbors-an unexpected boon, as I’d thought to have my cousin Chas, who has an exceptional eye, pick out a promising piece of ground for me near Braughton. The timing would seem opportune as well, for if I were not selling out and settling down just now, I should probably be looking to rejoin my regiment.”

  “The House Guards-the Coldstream regiment.”

  “Yes” He smiled. “You spoke of the `circumstances’ as your first reason. Is there another?”

  She nodded. “My family. My brothers. You know that you do not get on-”

  “Get on!”

  She thought he held back a laugh.

  “My dear Miss Billie, any group of men would `get on’ with considerably less inducement than your contentment” His easy gallantry again made her blush. “I assure you, we would find a way to do it.”

  “You do not understand! Kit is now in-he is now in very deep. With gentlemen like P.B. Marsh and Ronald Dumont”

  “Mr. Christopher does not appear to think very clearly-if he thinks at all.”

  She set her shoulders. “That is precisely the kind of comment I find objectionable!”

  “It is a fact. I have advised you before, Miss Billie, that you should not distress yourself by taking any responsibility for the folly of your brother.”

  “You choose to be cavalier, to be too dismissive. Would you not come to the aid of your own brother, Lord Hayden? He has certainly come to yours”

  “As you are so en
amored of my brother, perhaps you should much prefer to marry him.”

  “You move too quickly to something absurd! It is astonishing! What has Lord Hayden to do with anything?”

  “What has Christopher Caswell?”

  She glared at him. “You asked for my reasons, Major. I think perhaps I should not continue.”

  “You mean there are more?” He appeared to realize he had sounded rude, and briefly firmed his lips. “Let me simply say first, that with regard to your brothers, there is every chance I might in time grow to like them rather well. I share interests with Edward-once I can master my envy that he might spend his days reading. And apparently I share some experience with your absent brother, the captain. With Morty”-he paused and lifted his chin as though his collar chafed-“that may take some time. But perhaps if he were to find contentment with Miss Urquhart, he might forgive me my ancient trespass with Cora Peebles.”

  Wishing to hide her smile, Billie glanced quickly at the fire.

  “As for Kit,” he continued, “someday you must enlighten me as to why he holds me in such dislike.”

  “Oh, that. I suspect Kit envies you. He had a great desire to purchase colors, and my parents would not allow it. My mother would not even permit Kit to join the local militia. Not while Jack was with the regulars. And after Jack sold out, with the peace, Kit lost interest. Yes, I think, Major, that he must envy you your adventures”

  “‘Twould be an independence gained at considerable cost. I have mentioned as much before.”

  “Yes. But surely you understand it?”

  He nodded. His gaze examined her closely. “I believe he may also be jealous of your attentions, Miss Billie. Perhaps he objects to the fact that I … distract you in any fashion.”

  “If that were the case”-she smiled-“one might believe I would have more influence over him. But I appear to have little.” She sighed. “I cannot keep him from his gaming.”

  The room had grown darker. The evening had set in. Aunt Ephie still sat absorbed by her stitching at the hearth. Billie wondered when the lamps had been lit; she had not noticed. She thought it would have been welcome, and so very comfortable, to sit with David Trent and plan a future by firelight. But instead of gratifying her heart’s desire, she meant to defeat it.

  “You said you had more reasons,” he prompted, “for sending me on my way?”

  “Yes, I-” She lowered her voice, not wishing Ephie to hear. “I cannot help but notice your attentions to Miss Athington. I would not keep you from pursuing such an interest.”

  To her astonishment, he laughed. “Attentions to Miss Athington!” he protested. “But that is nonsense! I have no interest in Miss Athington. ‘Tis not chivalrous to say so, I know, but the `attentions’ have all been on her part. My interest has been in you alone.”

  She swallowed. “But who knows who else might have drawn your interest, had you not found yourself obligated to me?”

  “That is a different argument and one I cannot address, as it falls so entirely within the realm of conjecture. I did not set out with the notion of marrying this spring, Miss Billie. Indeed, I’d had little time for entertaining the idea. But any concerns for Miss Athington’s sensibilities are misplaced. Again, I know I am not charitable, but my observation has been that May Sanders and Charis Athington should not be counted among your friends.”

  “Because they are yours?”

  For a moment he was silent, and rather white about the mouth. She hadn’t meant to provoke him so; his readiness to refute her had surprised her. Surely he had to be relieved that she cried off? She wondered why the man could not simply be grateful for her understanding and be done with it.

  “That those two should be your friends, Miss Billie, surprises me,” he said loftily. “Because they are everything you are not-vain, designing, and mean-spirited.”

  He had again complimented her-rather grandly, as it happened-but she scarcely had a second to enjoy what he’d said, before he was adding, “If these are your reasons, I confess I do not find them insurmountable. I am still prepared to honor the arrangement.”

  ” `Prepared’ ! My lord, I have tried every way I might to make clear that I do not seek such a sacrifice from you! `Prepared’? Is that why you persist, and present yourself with all your braid glittering before my eye-because you treat this as a campaign? I suppose it has not occurred to you that I-I wish to be free?”

  She had never before seen him look so put out, not even at the New Year’s unmasking. And, amazingly, his temper registered entirely in his gaze. Those striking blue eyes were suddenly darker and startlingly cold.

  “That is another matter. You might have said so at once. I’d have found your interest in entertaining Lord Grenby, or some other nod-head, far more plausible than your ostensible reasons.

  “You-you know you wish to be released as well.”

  “You mistake me.” His searching gaze was difficult to bear. “Is this punishment, then, for having been too forward?”

  “It is not a punishment.”

  “Oh, but it is,” he said darkly. Abruptly he bowed, very gracefully and correctly. “Obliged to you, Miss Caswell. Miss Caswell.” He nodded to Ephie. “I shall expect Sir Moreton to be informed.” And while Billie still stood shaking, he left the room. Seconds later, the front door closed heavily.

  Billie stepped closer to the fire. Leaning one hand against the mantel, she closed her eyes. The flames seemed to be giving off very little heat; she felt unexpectedly chilled. She had never thought to see smiling, teasing, laughing David Trent so grim. Yet surely his pride would recover shortly, and then he would know himself grateful.

  “Well…” Ephie said, reminding Billie of their silent audience. “I have always thought you a remarkably sensible girl. Indeed, how could you be otherwise, with all those brothers? And so honest and frank.” Busying herself in storing her sewing, Ephie still had not looked up. “I’ve long known you’d prefer half a dozen pursuits to tattling with debutantes or hemming a stitch. Indeed, why should you be pressed to such frippery, given your unusual maturity and wisdom?” Ephie’s sharp brown gaze rose to meet hers accusingly. “But when a man takes the time to be as candid as the major was just now with you, and you haven’t the good sense to value it-well, Miss Wilhelmina! I’ll warrant you’ll not find another like him!”

  “I don’t expect to, Ephie,” she said wearily. Oddly, having released him from his pledge, she felt the pledge all the more.

  “He has offered twice now, Billie. Do you anticipate he shall offer again?”

  “I don’t know, Aunt. I would hope, after this, that he shan’t.”

  “The more fool you! I know you, Billie. You probably believe you have acted in fairness. But ‘tis a misplaced sense of fairness you have-as though you both play at some sport! The rules to which you take such exception were meant to protect just such as you. And they protect the gentlemen as well. Did it not occur to you that the major might now find himself held up to ridicule? In any event, you are unlikely to find the ton half as warm as it has been”

  “He needn’t be ridiculed. He did not cry off. And nothing was announced, nothing was agreed upon-there were no settlements. I have injured only myself.”

  “You think that, do you? And what if he cared for you? The two of you certainly bicker as though you were very close indeed.” Billie stood silently as Ephie’s lips pursed. “You had best hope he regains his equanimity,” she offered sternly, “and trots back here again tomorrow.”

  But the next morning brought the news that Napoleon Bonaparte, having escaped his confinement on the island of Elba, had landed on the south coast of France and meant to make his triumphant way back to Paris. Billie knew then that if Major Lord David were to be “trotting back” anywhere, it would most likely be to renewed conflict on the Continent, and not to her own chilly doorstep.

  She had released him; he did not feel released. Yet he would have to go-he wished to go. As soon as he heard the news, David knew he would be o
ff to Brussels, where the army remained. He did not trouble to reflect on whether he’d have felt honorbound to stay for Billie Caswell had she wished to wed; she had said no, and the matter was ended. Though last night, even in his spurned state, he had still thought to renew his offer at some later date, he now suspected any such effort would have to be postponed until very much later indeed. Wellington would need every soldier at hand-he would have difficulties enough finding experience at such short notice. The most seasoned regiments, veterans of the Peninsular campaign, were not yet back from America. Others with experience had been demobilized or had chosen half pay and gardening in the counties.

  The rest of the army was near Brussels, and Wellington, who had just taken up the post of Ambassador to the Congress of Vienna, would be turning right around to reach his forces.

  There was no question in David’s mind that Wellington would be entreated once more to lead Britain and the allies. There was also no question that Parliament would vote for war. Bonaparte had not stayed caged on Elba-he would not stay caged within France. He could not be trusted to live at peace with his former enemies.

  David supposed it fortuitous that the Congress still met in Vienna, assuring a quick, united reaction from the rest of Europe. Indeed, he could not think it wise of Bonaparte to return at such a moment, while the diplomats remained in session and communication was easy. But perhaps the emperor understood human nature, and politics, better than most; his return could only be unwise if it were met with vigorous, united force-an end that could prove well beyond the proudly posturing parties in Vienna.

  He had no clue when hostilities would open. But David knew he would be leaving soon. For the longer Bonaparte went unchallenged, the larger the army he would raise and retrain, and the greater the threat to all that had been gained over so many years of sacrifice.

  After a visit to barracks, to check on any further news and to apply himself to an hour’s worth of correspondenceascertaining companions’ plans and recalling his batman, Barton, from leave-David stopped in to see his brother at White’s. Hayden’s friends, the ubiquitous Lords Demarest and Knowles and the soon-to-be-wed George Gillen, were happily arranged about one of the club’s card tables, on the verge of attacking their whist hands. But Hayden waved the others away as David approached.