The Brigadier's Daughter

by Catherine March

  ‘Did he?’

  Sasha sighed, her cheeks blushing rosy pink. ‘Yes.’ As her mother gazed at her expectantly, she added, ‘And it was wonderful.’

  ‘You were alone together for many weeks, and Major Bowen is a very handsome and, ah, what is the word—?’ She waved her hand about, even after all these years in England still occasionally struggling with the language.

  ‘Kind?’ Sasha prompted.

  ‘No, no.’ Her mother shook her head.

  ‘Strong?’

  ‘Yes, almost…virile!’ Her dark black eyes snapped as she smiled, pleased to have grasped the right word. ‘A virile man, a manly man, as your papa would say. He would want more than just kisses, eh?’

  ‘Oh, Mother!’ Sasha blushed even more, her eyes downcast.

  ‘What?’ She shrugged with the expressiveness of her culture. ‘It is the truth. I think a man such as him, alone with a beautiful girl like my Sasha—’

  ‘I am not beautiful.’

  ‘You are, my dearest, not like Georgia, but beautiful in your own soft, quiet way. He has a place in your heart, has he not?’

  She could not hide the truth from her mother, simply nodding her head.

  ‘I knew it! And you are in love with him?’

  Tears suddenly spilled down Sasha’s cheeks, as a surge of emotion, long suppressed, suddenly rose from within her heart and overflowed. She nodded again, unable to speak as the tears crowded hot and burning in her throat.

  ‘Then go,’ her mother urged. ‘Go and see him. You could walk to Uncle Percy’s house in ten minutes.’

  Sasha shook her head. ‘No, I cannot.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He— He would be ruined. Disgraced. Court-martialled.’

  ‘What does that matter? Is not love more important? Love will always find a way. Go, quickly, before it is too late.’

  Sasha looked up then, hesitating, yet in her mind’s eye already seeing herself donning her cloak and running down the road, knocking on the door of the Earl of Clermount’s mansion, being shown to the room where Reid would be, perhaps reading the paper by the fire, and he would rise and turn towards her… But then she shook her head, fearing the consequences of such an action. What would he say? How she regretted ever pretending to be Reid Bowen’s wife! And now her penance would be to shun all thoughts of love and happiness, to live a quiet life and make amends for her disgraceful behaviour. She could never be with Reid. It was best just to let it go, let Reid go, and the memory would fade.

  ‘I can’t, Mama.’ Sasha rose from her seat and turned away, halting as her mother’s hand clasped her wrist and stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Why not, my love?’

  ‘Because—’ Sasha hesitated, searching for the right words ‘—it would not be right. We behaved very badly, and now we must pay the price.’

  ‘Oh, pish!’ Olga’s elegant nose tilted to the ceiling. ‘Why, if I had not run after your father in the middle of a Russian winter as he was about to leave for England, we would not be married now. We would not have had all these wonderful years together, madly in love and blessed with our four beautiful girls.’ She shook her daughter’s wrist with insistence. ‘Go, Sasha, go to him. Quickly.’

  With a regretful sigh Sasha freed herself from her mother’s clasp. She went downstairs to the drawing room and forced herself to sit down at her embroidery frame. Carefully she opened her basket of threads and needles and selected one of each. It soothed her mind to concentrate on a matter that did not come easily to her. Several times she pricked her finger and had to undo untidy stitches. On the mantel the clock ticked gently, and chimed the hour with a delicate ting-ting-ting-ting-ting. Five o’clock. She glanced at the window—the light was still bright and clear. Just a few more stitches, she promised herself, then she would go upstairs and change for dinner. Yet her eyes flew constantly to the clock, and it seemed that each minute ticked by with agonising slowness. Would it never reach the half-hour? Why must time pass by so slowly? When she needed it to flash by with such speed that soon, quickly, she would be free from this torment that gripped her! The needle pricked her finger again, and this time she did not patiently grit her teeth.

  ‘Oh…damn!’ Sasha exclaimed.

  Suddenly she could bear it no more. She jumped to her feet and ran from the room. She wrenched open the heavy front door, quite forgetting her cloak, even her hat and gloves. Her soft leather slippers pattered on the stone steps leading down to the street, as she flew down them with a whirl of green skirts. She ran, as quickly as her legs would carry her, gasping for breath, all the way along the street and around the corner and down the next street, across the small garden in the middle of the square, across the rough cobbles of the street, until at last she came to the shiny black front door of Uncle Percy’s house. Raising her hand, she grasped the brass lion’s head and rapped it firmly.

  Her breath tore raggedly from her heaving ribs, and she waited, her heart pounding with more than just the exertion of running. She knocked again, several loud raps in quick succession, and then the door opened and she pushed past the butler, and into the hall.

  ‘Why, Miss Packard, good afternoon.’ He closed the door, a little taken aback by the impetuous behaviour of this usually sedate young lady. ‘His lordship is not at home at the moment.’

  ‘I wish to see Major Bowen,’ Sasha burst out, adding, ‘Please.’

  He shook his head, with a regretful grimace. ‘I am sorry, Miss Packard, but both the Earl and Major Bowen have departed for Tilbury Docks.’

  ‘They’ve gone?’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Well, yes, miss.’ He was a little puzzled by her question but stood politely and attentively. ‘Would you care to leave a message?’ He indicated the pen and writing paper laid on a bureau.

  A hot wave of colour suffused Sasha’s cheeks and she turned back to the door, biting her lip with embarrassment. ‘No, thank you.’

  The butler quickly moved to open the door for her, and watched with a slight frown as she descended the steps with shoulders bowed in defeat. He closed the door and stood pensively for a moment, deep in thought. Then, despite Sasha’s denial, he stooped to the notepaper and wrote, Miss Packard called.

  Unbeknownst to him, those three small words would change everything.

  Returning home, Sasha went upstairs to her room and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the window and staring blankly into space. The light was fading now, the shadows stretching from the trees and across the street, casting her in their bleakness. Reid was gone. She would never see him again. And yet he was never far from her mind. Tears ran silently down her face, but she did not sob. It was over. She must face the truth of it and turn her thoughts, her feelings, her very life, elsewhere. For a wild moment she thought of what she could do to escape from the pain and desolation of her loneliness, envisaging herself following in the footsteps of Florence Nightingale and nursing sick soldiers in desperate conditions. Or perhaps going to Africa and bringing the Bible to the poor people there. Surely in those conditions, far from home, she would be able to forget?

  Her father insisted the family always sat down to eat dinner together, and though she would have much preferred a tray in her room, Sasha dutifully descended the stairs and took her place at the table. Her parents conversed quietly, trying not to make it obvious that she was their cause for concern, but failing to hide the numerous glances that came her way. The fish had just been served when there was a sudden commotion, raised voices in the hallway, and the dining-room door burst open. The Earl of Clermount brushed aside Lodge as he rushed in, black cape whirling, still wearing his top hat and carrying his ebony walking cane in a most decisive manner.

  ‘Sasha!’ He came at once to her side and with one hand grasped her upper arm, lifting her from her chair. ‘If we hurry, we may just make it in time!’

  Her knife and fork fell from her hands, clattering with a jarring noise onto her plate. The Brigadier
rose from his seat, exclaiming loudly at just what the hell was going on?

  ‘No time now, Conrad, old boy, got to get Sasha to Tilbury.’

  ‘But—’ Sasha gasped, watching her starched white napkin flutter to the floor as Uncle Percy dragged her bodily from the dining room and into the hallway.

  Here Lodge was ready with her cloak and helped her to don it whilst in motion.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Uncle Percy called over his shoulder to the astonished onlookers of family and servants, ‘I’ll look after her.’

  Sasha hurried alongside him as they rushed down the steps, fearing that if she did not she would fall and injure herself, and then he was urging her into his carriage, one hand in the small of her back. She barely had a moment in which to sit down before he rapped his cane on the ceiling and with a lurch, a crack of the whip and a shout from the driver, they set off at great speed and Sasha clutched at Uncle Percy’s arm, both in alarm and consternation.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she gasped.

  ‘To the docks at Tilbury. With any luck we will get there before the ship sails.’

  As the coach rattled onwards Uncle Percy frequently poked his head out of the window to harangue unfortunate pedestrians, coal-carts and hackney cabs, urging his coachman to hurry.

  Sasha raised her voice above the noise of the thundering wheels. ‘Uncle Percy, I really don’t think this a very good idea.’

  ‘Oh?’ He glanced keenly at her from the corner of his eye, half hanging out of the window. ‘Why do you say that? You did come to the house to see Reid, did you not? I am sorry we were not there, but I had an unexpected invitation to the opera, so we left early.’

  ‘Well, yes, I did, but—’

  ‘Just as I thought.’ He turned back to the window, raising his voice to bellow, ‘You there, get out of the way, can’t you see this is an emergency?’

  Sasha cringed, blushing with embarrassment and hoping that no one would recognise them. The Packards’ reputation was hanging in the balance at the moment and she hated to think what her father would say if he knew about this mad dash through London. As they drew closer to their destination, Sasha, too, began to peer out of the window on her side of the coach, but it was not with eagerness, her emotions leaning more towards anxiety and wide-eyed terror. It had been several weeks since she had last seen Reid, pretending a callous disregard for him and sending him away. What on earth would he say to her now?

  The carriage drew to a shuddering halt, the coachman jumped down to unfold the steps, but Uncle Percy had already flung the door open and leapt out, urging Sasha to follow him and firmly grasping her elbow as they plunged onto the crowded quayside. The vast side of a ship loomed above them, and the quay was a dangerous obstacle course, the poor lighting from paraffin lamps making little impression on the gloom of dusk. More than once she bumped into the sharp corner of a trunk or knocked against the ankles of an urchin perched artfully on a bale or barrel. There was a dank smell of water, rotting timber and other odours she did not care to identify.

  ‘There!’ shouted Uncle Percy triumphantly. ‘There he is!’

  Sasha craned her neck, peering upwards in the direction that he pointed with his cane, but all she could see were a throng of shapes leaning against the rails of the ship, only vaguely discernible as human beings. It was not a naval warship, but a civilian vessel, a fast cutter carrying mail and supplies and a half-dozen passengers.

  ‘Damn, they’ve taken down the gangplank!’ Pulling her along in his wake, Uncle Percy began to shout, pushing his way through the crowd of people waving goodbye to the passengers, trying to attract the attention of just one amongst many. ‘Reid! Over here!’

  As they hurried they came to the edge of the dock and could go no farther. Sasha watched as the vast bulk of the ship moved and inched back, slipping slowly away from them. With alarm she leaned back, bending her neck painfully as she peered upwards in a desperate attempt to see where Reid was.

  ‘Sasha! Up here, to your left!’

  She heard his voice and took several paces backwards to get a better view. And then she saw him, his tall, broad-shouldered frame even more bulky enshrouded in a heavy military coat.

  ‘Sasha!’

  ‘Reid!’ She waved, her soft voice quite unable to reach across the widening gap between them. It was surprising how quickly the ship departed, one moment close to hand and the next sliding out into the waters of the Thames. ‘Goodbye!’ she called, waving her arm back and forth. ‘Take care and God bless!’

  He shouted something in return, but the wind and the distance snatched his words away. Just at that moment the sun broke through a gap in the clouds and glowed orange, revealing Reid more clearly. She watched, frozen to the spot, as he ran along the deck towards the stern, bringing him a fraction closer to where they stood on the quay and he raised his voice to shout, but all she heard was ‘Wait…’ and the rest was beyond her hearing. Within a few moments the ship was gone, sailing away down the river and to far-off, foreign places. Quite suddenly, much to her consternation, she burst into tears.

  Uncle Percy put his arm about her shoulders, patting her upper arm clumsily. ‘There, there.’ And then he stopped and stared. ‘Wait a minute, what—?’

  There was a general buzz of consternation from the quayside as they watched the ship lean to one side and then make a slow, awkward turn and chug slowly back towards the dock. Sasha sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes, watching with hopeful, bated breath. As soon as the great bulk of the sides had touched the wharf, ropes were thrown and the gangplank lowered.

  ‘Look!’ exclaimed Uncle Percy. ‘It’s Reid. He must have asked them to turn about.’

  With a sob Sasha tore from his grasp and was running down the quayside, reaching the end of the gangplank just as Reid descended. For a moment they stood still, gasping for breath, staring at each other, the question in each other’s eyes. Then Reid held his arms open to her and she flung herself into them with a cry, her hands tightening about his neck.

  ‘Sasha, my love, I cannot bear to go! These last few weeks have been hell without you!’ He rained kisses on her cheeks, and forehead, her nose and chin, finally kissing her mouth and then gasping, ‘I will ask the captain to unload my trunks.’ He half-turned towards the anxiously hovering captain on the deck of the ship, but Sasha pulled him back.

  ‘You must go, Reid, you cannot desert your post like that!’

  ‘I won’t go back without you, Sasha.’

  ‘You must!’

  ‘Sasha—’ his voice became low and serious as he held her close to him, looking deep in her eyes ‘—do you love me?’

  ‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘Of course I love you, so very much!’

  ‘Then come with me, and to hell with everything!’

  She laughed, and shook her head, and then turned back towards Uncle Percy, torn between her love for Reid and the desperate, aching need to be with him, to love him, and the duty that forced them to order their lives according to the rules and regulations of society. As she took a step away from him, her sense of duty well ingrained, with it came another sensation, one of being utterly bereft, and she knew that she could not do it. She could not continue to live without him.

  Sasha laughed then. ‘I don’t have any clothes.’

  He smiled, too, taking her hand, tugging her up the gangplank. ‘I will lend you some of mine, or maybe one of the other passengers has a wife who can lend you some. And then I will buy you a whole new wardrobe in St Petersburg!’

  ‘What on earth will Lady Cronin say?’ she gasped, breathless, as she ran behind him, the sailors on the deck shouting and cheering, urging them to hurry. ‘Reid, this is madness!’

  ‘I don’t care!’

  They reached the deck and Sasha turned to wave back to Uncle Percy, calling, ‘Tell my father how sorry I am, and ask him to write to all the generals he might know so that Reid doesn’t get into trouble!’

  ‘Goodbye!’ Uncle Percy yelled, waving. ‘Don’t worry, I
will make sure that no one stands in the way of true love!’

  Laughing, feeling like naughty children stealing cakes from the kitchen, Reid and Sasha embraced, kissing in between smiles, as the ship began to inch its way back out into the Thames again, the last glowing ruby embers of the evening shining on their faces. They stood entwined together, waving goodbye, and then when the quay was out of sight Reid took her by the hand and led her below decks to his cabin. Sasha followed him, and as he closed the door behind them and drew her into his arms, she leaned her head against his chest and sighed with relief. Happy in the knowledge that at last all her days of anguish and grief were over and she had come home to the only place she ever wanted to be, with Reid.

  For a moment they didn’t speak, and he stroked her hair and her back with a warm, caressing hand, savouring the feel of her small, slender body against his, content at last to have her back where she belonged. Gently, he pushed her a little away from him and lifted her chin with his fingers, raising her face so that he could see into her eyes.

  ‘I have missed you so much,’ he murmured.

  Sasha looked up at him, her glance sombre, yet a smile upon her lips. ‘I have missed you, too. It was agony sending you away like that. I thought I would die from the pain of it.’

  ‘Thank God you did not!’ He hugged her tightly, kissing the side of her neck. ‘Now you are here with me and I will never let anyone come between us again, not even the Brigadier or, worse, Lady Cronin!’

  They both laughed, then he stooped and covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. The heat flared between them, fingers fumbling with buttons and fastenings in their desperate haste and need to feel the intimate joy of each other’s skin and be as close as a man and a woman could be. They stood locked together as they kissed, naked, their clothes gathered in little heaps about the floor. Sasha clasped the lean hardness of Reid’s body, running her palm over his back and his taut buttocks, pressing against him. He stooped farther, his head lowering to her breast, gently exploring her nipple with his tongue. She groaned and they staggered down upon the narrow bunk bed, kissing with frantic need.