THE BRIDE WORE BLUE

by Cheryl Bolen

  As the others talked, Thomas could not help but look distractedly about the room. He noticed a soldier wearing the familiar red military coat, only his dripped with decorations. And then Thomas witnessed a most peculiar thing. The soldier looked long and hard at Colonel Gordon, then crossed to the opposite side of the room as if to keep his distance from the former officer.

  His actions seemed very odd. At first Thomas thought possibly the man had been in trouble with the colonel at one time, but then Thomas remembered all the military decorations the man sported. A man who was not in his officers’ graces was hardly likely to have earned so many medals.

  No, Thomas thought, it must be something else.

  “We missed you at last night’s assembly,” Carlotta said to Felicity.

  “I had the bad head, but as you can see, I am now fine,” Felicity replied.

  “I must say you look especially lovely in blue,” the colonel said.

  Yes, doesn‘t she, Thomas thought. It was his favorite dress. She looked like some heavenly body he longed to hold in his arms. She would be even lovelier without the blue gown. He imagined himself helping her disrobe, his lips nibbling at the satin-smooth skin on her bare shoulders. Good Lord, life sprang to his groin at the very thought. Only Felicity could affect him so profoundly.

  Though he stayed slightly attuned to the conversation around him, Thomas kept his eyes on the lone soldier. The man walked over to the attendant and received his glass of water.

  He appeared to be looking about the room for a familiar face—avoiding a glance in the colonel’s direction. He obviously found none and left the Pump Room.

  If Thomas hadn’t had his sister with him, he would have followed the soldier.

  “Will you come, Mr. Moreland?” Carlotta asked.

  He snapped to attention. “Come where?”

  “To the dinner I’m hosting at my house tonight.”

  “Do say you’ll come,” Glee implored. “Felicity and I are to be there, and we’d be ever so happy to have you and Miss Moreland among the company.”

  He glanced at Felicity, then at Carlotta. “It would be my pleasure.”

  George kept looking at the door. Before long, he wondered aloud. “I don’t suppose Blanks is coming today.” He shook his head. “Has a terrible aversion to rising before afternoon.”

  “Not too long ago, you were exactly like him,” Felicity said, “and I’m ever so glad you have matured.” She shot Thomas a determined glance.

  “Yes, Lord Sedgewick, I would say you’re now a reformed rake,” Carlotta said with affection.

  Felicity’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Carlotta. “I beg that you do not refer to my brother as a rake, even if you preface it with reformed.”

  Carlotta cast a scathing look at Felicity, then smiled at George. “Allow me to offer my apologies, Lord Sedgewick.”

  Now George gave all the signs of being embarrassed. He could not even look Dianna in the eye.

  But to Thomas’s pleasure, Dianna smoothed everything over in her own gracious way. “Lord Sedgewick is as fine a gentleman as I’ve ever encountered. In fact,” she added with a snippet of laughter, “I should be honored if he would stroll about the room with me.”

  It was quite a forward action for Dianna, who would never force herself on any man, as Carlotta did. On the other hand, Dianna had always been keenly aware of those who were in difficult circumstances. Thomas had lost count of all the orphaned girls she had dragged home from school for the holidays. And he hated to think how many cats and dogs she had offered a home. Or all the pet funerals he had attended with her in back of their cottage in Brampton.

  He frowned as he watched George and Dianna, arm in arm, stroll about the room, her happy face smiling up at Sedgewick’s. He had never before seen two people appear so much in love or look so good together. The fair-haired George with his golden skin and the pale Dianna with strikingly black hair. They were compatible opposites. Like Felicity and him. A pity Sedgewick was unworthy of Dianna.

  To Thomas’s annoyance, no one seemed interested in leaving the Pump Room today even though the morning was now gone. He wanted to locate the soldier and talk to him about Colonel Gordon.

  To his relief, Dianna asked if she could spend the afternoon with Glee and her sister, and he readily consented. Then he took his leave.

  Where in the city of Bath would a soldier go? Thomas could instantly dismiss the shops. They would be the last place to attract men.

  He pulled his watch from his pocket and noted it was past noon. And he smiled. The public houses were now open, and he could think of no likelier place to find a soldier.

  He went first to the pub nearest the Pump Room, but he saw no soldiers there.

  He walked down toward Broad Quay, an area by the river that Thomas deemed of appeal to soldiers. There he found a pub called Bird in Bath, and he walked in. The room was dark and smelled of ale and fish. And standing at the bar was the soldier.

  Thomas walked to the bar and stood next to the soldier.

  “Can I help you, sir?” the bartender asked Thomas.

  “A bumper of ale for me.” Pointing to the man beside him, Thomas added, “And when this brave soldier is finished, I would be honored if he would allow me to purchase his next drink.”

  “Very kind of ye, sir,” the soldier said, smiling at Thomas. The man’s voice was that of the lower classes. He was a typical foot soldier who had served the Crown well. Had likely done so for most of his life, for the man was not young.

  The soldier emptied his glass, and the bartender poured him another.

  When the bartender moved down the bar to tend to another customer, Thomas initiated conversation. “I saw you back at the Pump Room.”

  “A loftier gatherin‘ than I’m used to,” the soldier said. “I know me place. I know, too, you’re the nabob from India. I heard of you from a soldier who served with me. Are you not the Englishman who established an orphanage in Bombay before you returned to England?”

  Thomas shrugged. “ ‘Twas the least I could do for a country that had been so good to me.” He was quick to talk of other matters. “I’d say from all your medals, your place is definitely in the army.”

  “Thank ye.”

  “In the Pump Room I saw that you looked at Colonel Gordon with what I perceived to be recognition.”

  “I know ‘im.” The man’s ruddy face was inscrutable.

  “I also perceived that you did not like the colonel.”

  The soldier took a long drink, then wiped his lips on his sleeve. “You ain’t come to throw me in the brig, are ye?”

  Thomas laughed. “Of course not, my good man.” Then he lowered his voice. “It so happens I am not overly fond of Colonel Gordon.”

  Now a smile broke across the soldier’s face. “I’m not only not overly fond of the man, I downright dislike ‘im.”

  Thomas nodded, a smile curving his lip as he went to take another sip. “May I ask why?”

  The man set his bumper down with a great noise. “I’ll tell you why, and I wish I ‘ad told the authorities in Portugal, but I was too busy keeping meself alive to go worrying after a coward officer.”

  “A coward?”

  The soldier nodded. “Worst I ever saw. I’ve seen ‘em cry, I’ve even seen ’em call out for their mamas, but I ain’t never but once saw one shoot himself in order to get out of fightin‘. And that once was Colonel Gordon.”

  “Who wanted to come home,” Thomas added quietly.

  The soldier paid no heed but kept on talking. “Yep. Sure as I’m sittin‘ here, the yellow-bellied colonel shot himself in the leg. Course, he didn’t know I was watchin’.”

  “A more peculiar thing I’ve not heard,” Thomas said, frowning. “Tell me, did you know Captain Harrison?”

  The soldier’s voice became reverent. “I was proud to be one of his men.”

  Another person who clearly worshiped Michael Harrison. Though he was long dead, the man who had been Felicity’s husband had
earned still another admirer. Respect had followed him to the grave, Thomas thought. “Where was the captain when the colonel shot himself? Do you know?”

  “Oh, yessir. I had found his body just minutes before I ‘appened on the colonel a-shootin’ ‘imself.”

  “Did you find anything unusual in this?” Thomas asked. “In Captain Harrison’s death?”

  The soldier pondered a moment. “Now that I thinks about it... I remember at the time I was wonderin‘ who’d killed him because the enemy was behind us.”

  Thomas nodded thoughtfully. The soldier had indeed repaid him for his trouble. “Drink up, my good man,” Thomas said, patting his back and setting two guineas on the bar. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  The man pocketed one coin. “The pleasure’s mine, sir!”

  Thomas did not know where he was going when he left the public house. Like the day before, this day was fair and sunny, and he felt like walking. With the low hills as his guide, he kept walking to the north of the city, to the same place they had walked yesterday. When Felicity had grown jealous and fled.

  He saw Mrs. Simmons’s millinery shop and the lad out front. Jamie was swinging his useless legs under him as he perched on a pair of crutches.

  Thomas crossed the street to him. “Good afternoon, Jamie,” he said.

  The boy looked up and smiled at him. Thomas noted his front teeth had come in.

  “Have you taken the baths today?” Thomas asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And were you able to mow your legs in the warm water?”

  “I was!”

  “Good. Did you eat your oranges?”

  Jaime nodded. “And they are ever so good. Better’n any comfits. Mum says oranges don’t grow in England unless they’re in a big glass house.”

  “Your mum’s right.” Thomas squatted to the boy’s height. “I agree with you about oranges being better than comfits. Give me oranges over them any day.” He put a gentle hand to the boy’s back. “Tell me, Jamie, have you ridden your pony today?”

  “I rode the pony, but I don’t believe it’s mine.”

  “Of course he is. I bought him just for you. But since you’ve got no place to keep him, I take care of him for you. Unless your mum would allow him to sleep with you?”

  The boy broke into gales of laughter.

  “So you must give a name to your pony. What shall you call him?”

  His face still delighted, the lad thought on it for a moment. “I shall call him Snowy ‘cause he’s white.”

  Thomas ruffled the boy’s hair, then stood up. “A very good choice, I should say.”

  Thomas said his farewells and continued on to the Royal Crescent. Seeing the lad in such good spirits lightened his own mood.

  He kept thinking of what the soldier had told him. The colonel had shot himself. Though the infantryman had thought the colonel’s actions a result of cowardice, Thomas knew he had maimed himself in order to return to England with the newly widowed Felicity Harrison.

  Had the colonel also murdered Captain Harrison? The truth might never be learned.

  The damned colonel would get off scot-free. With no witnesses, it would be impossible to convict him of Harrison’s murder, and Thomas doubted there was a law prohibiting a man from shooting himself in the leg.

  One thing was certain. Thomas did not trust him. Instinctively, he feared the man would harm Felicity.

  And Thomas could not allow that.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  As Felicity took her seat at the bottom of Carlotta’s table, she cast a bitter glance at her hostess. Carlotta had seen to it that Thomas sat next to her at the head of the table. Unfortunately, Felicity’s seat offered a perfect spot from which to witness Carlotta’s outrageous flirting with Thomas. Which left Felicity with little appetite.

  To do her justice, Carlotta had seated Dianna and George opposite each other, which facilitated their cheery conversation. Thank goodness Balmoral etiquette was not observed here. Felicity hated to think the royal table was so wide from side to side that speaking across the table was simply not done. That would make for a most stiff assemblage indeed.

  Felicity could not say she missed the colonel’s presence tonight. He had begged off because he was dining with an old military chum. It had pained him, she could tell, not to join them. The man hated to allow Felicity in the same room with Thomas without his being there to prevent any camaraderie between Felicity and Thomas.

  Felicity positively steamed when Carlotta said, “I had my cook prepare lobster for you, Mr. Moreland, for I know how dearly you like it.”

  It was as if Carlotta had the funds to hire men to spy on Thomas, though Felicity was well aware that Carlotta’s funds were quite limited. She even wondered how Carlotta had managed to set so grand a table.

  “You are too good,” Thomas answered, not looking up from his forkful of shellfish.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Ennis,” Glee said, a wickedness shining in her eyes, “how old is your little boy now?”

  Thomas put down his fork and looked at Carlotta with a puzzled expression.

  Carlotta’s face went even whiter than its usual milky shade. She swallowed hard and avoided looking at the man to her left. “He is five.”

  “Why have I not met him?” Thomas inquired.

  Carlotta slapped a false smile on her face. “Oh, he doesn’t live here in Bath. Whatever would a lad find to do here?” Not allowing anyone to answer, she continued. “He lives in the country where there is so much more to occupy a lad. I find he is far better off with my grandmother, who raised five sons of her own, than ever he would be with me.”

  Thomas lowered his brows as Carlotta spoke. “Would not your grandmother be somewhat old to be raising a rambunctious lad?”

  “She is getting on in years, but the boy’s nurse is quite young and lively. He adores her.”

  Felicity’s heart went out to the little boy who had lost his mother as well as his father. And inexorably, she was even more jealous of Carlotta than ever. For Felicity had longed for a son. At first she had wanted a son in Michael’s image so Michael would never be completely gone. Now that she had managed to close the page on Michael’s chapter in her life, she still longed for a child of her own. It had occurred to her more than once that though Jamie’s mother was poor in material wealth, she was rich for having so precious a son.

  “How often do you see him?” Thomas asked.

  “Oh, I make it a point to see him every year on his birthday. I’ve only missed once. He looks forward ever so much to my visits—and the toys I bring for him. My grandmother is rather stern about lavishing toys on children.”

  “Does he have his own pony?” Thomas asked.

  “Oh, no, Grandmama’s money doesn’t run to that.”

  Felicity wondered what Thomas would think of all this. She suspected he would not approve of a mother who chose to send her child away. In fact, she was almost certain he would disdain a mother who could do so. For when it came to matters of right and wrong and good and evil, it seemed she and Thomas exactly agreed. Though his circumstances of birth were quite different than hers, Felicity had never known a man whose opinions so mirrored her own.

  She thought of the pony rides Thomas had arranged for little Jamie, and a smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

  After dinner the ladies retired to the saloon, and Thomas and George followed soon after, having drunk their port rather quickly.

  Carlotta was bent on singing for Thomas. She was in possession of a rather distinctive alto. It was throaty and altogether sensuous.

  To Felicity’s surprise, Thomas came to sit on the settee beside her as Carlotta began to sing. Her surprise was even greater at the adversarial remark she addressed to him. “I am disappointed you do not find my brother worthy of your sister.”

  He turned to her, his dark brows plunging, his eyes fiery. “How do you know that?”

  Her stomach sank. He had all but admitted her claim. “It’s a feeling formed after
observing you.”

  “Let me say that at this stage of his life, your brother has not yet demonstrated the maturity I would like in Dianna’s husband.”

  “I’ll admit,” Felicity countered, “that when you came to Bath he was immature, but he has shown a marked improvement.”

  “I cannot deny he has changed—for the better—but I’ve yet to see evidence that gaming no longer appeals to him.”

  Carlotta continued singing, but she was clearly disturbed that Thomas could talk during her performance.

  “Ssh,” Felicity warned, shooting her attention on Carlotta while scorning Thomas. How dare he find fault with her brother!

  He had shot himself in the foot, Thomas mused angrily. Felicity was actually speaking with him, and he had ruined everything.

  A moment later he thought about warning Felicity against Colonel Gordon, but it seemed a petty thing to do. Instead, he vowed to protect her from the colonel. She need never know that the endless suffering she had endured was because of the fiendish man.

  Thomas suppressed an overwhelming urge to take her hand in his. This was actually the first time she had spoken to him privately all week. Even if it was a confrontation. Being near her had almost been worth it.

  He attempted to look interested in Carlotta’s singing when in reality all he could think of was his proximity to Felicity.

  When she finished the first song, Carlotta began another. He gazed with pride at his sister who accompanied Carlotta on the pianoforte. He knew the best tutors and masters in all the world could not have made Dianna the great lady she had become. She had been born with grace and compassion and intelligence and a facility for adapting to new ways. He couldn’t have been prouder.

  George would always be good to her. He was no fortune hunter. Yet Thomas could not bless a marriage between them—at this time.

  At least Sedgewick wasn’t like the scheming Carlotta—who didn’t even want her own child!