"But I would never—oh, no!" She clapped her hand to her mouth. "Fanny, when I saw his arm, I was so shocked that I gasped aloud!"
"Oh, Eugenia, surely you did not!" Miss Wellthorpe reproved.
"I did. He must have thought I was disgusted by it, when all I could think of was how much he must have suffered. All those months after he left, I had nightmares about the horrors of the battlefield and those terrible infirmaries we all pretended not to know about. I still cannot bear to imagine it!"
"One cannot wonder at his chill reaction, then."
"I see now that it was no more than I deserved. When I see him, Fanny, I will explain to him the nature of our misunderstanding, and I will tell him that his injury makes not the least bit of difference to my feelings for him. Then, surely, this will all come right."
It was not until the day had passed, however, that Eugenia was forced to give up hope that Major Stanfield would respond to her invitation to pay a call at the Fox-worth residence. Casting aside the proprieties in her impatience, she had gone so far as to send him a note, in response to which his valet had returned a brief billet stating that numerous engagements prevented Major Stan-field from sparing the time to visit at any time in the near future.
It was equally useless for her to seek to enlist Charles's aid on her behalf for he was nowhere to be found. In fact, had Eugenia been less preoccupied by her own concerns, she would have noticed that her brother was suffering from an unusual degree of moodiness. With the approach of Christmas, when the date of his impending nuptials would be announced, Charles was experiencing a marked lowering of spirits.
Miss Preston-Smythe, in the iheaiitime, was becoming more forthright about the changes she intended to make at the Foxworth residence once she took up the reins as its mistress, as she liked to say. Miss Foxworth needed discipline as everyone knew, but there were many other faults to be found in any establishment governed by a mere bachelor. Slovenly habits were to be eradicated, and such lapses as the presence of disgusting animals would not be tolerated. Charles, who was quite comfortable with his bachelor habits and who enjoyed nothing more than a quiet evening with his dogs sleeping at his feet, was beginning to view the prospect of his future life with Miss Preston-Smythe with a feeling akin to apprehension. He therefore spent a great deal of time at his club, out of the
reaches of any female whatsoever.
Eugenia was therefore forced to conclude that if Major Stanfield would not come to her, she would go to him, and the only question that remained was how. She could not go alone, and Frances, albeit her dearest friend, would be agog with horror at the thought of going to a gentleman's lodgings. Eugenia thought too much of her friend to beg for her escort under any sort of false pretenses; there were others, however, for whom Eugenia had fewer scruples.
Thus it was that Miss Foxworth and Miss Preston-Smythe found themselves in a closed carriage at an early hour the following morning headed toward Berkeley Square. Both ladies were well bundled against the cold, and Miss Preston-Smythe thought privately that although she deplored Eugenia's taste for strong colors, she had to admit that the emerald lambswool cape Miss Foxworth wore was particularly becoming. It did not occur to her that there might be another reason for the special glow in her companion's cheeks.
"I am so grateful for your escort on this errand of mercy, Priscilla," Eugenia sighed. "Accustomed as you are to acts of charity, I knew that you could not refuse me."
Miss Preston-Smythe smiled coolly. Delivering baskets of fruit to the ailing was exactly the sort of role in which she fancied herself as a model of upright behavior. "What exactly is the nature of the complaint from which your friend suffers?"
"It is a condition which results in a certain, how shall I say, disfigurement. That is the reason why my friend prefers to remain unidentified to all but the closest friends and family."
Miss Preston-Smythe concealed a shudder.
"However," Eugenia continued, "I am assured that this condition is by no means contagious, but I shall not risk exposing you personally. It will be best for you to wait downstairs while I pay my visit."
As she spoke, the carriage drew to a halt in front of an elegant townhouse, and Eugenia leapt nimbly down without waiting for the groom's assistance. "Please wait here for a moment, Priscilla, so that I may be assured that my friend is feeling well enough to receive me."
She rang the bell, and when the door was opened, she uttered a cheery "Good morning," stepped past the startled, middle-aged man who stood there, and closed the door smartly behind herself before he could recover from his surprise.
"Do not be alarmed," she smiled at him. "I am really quite sane. I presume that you are Major Stanfield's valet?"
"My name is Rogers, Madam. I was the major's batman in the the war." He bowed slightly.
"How do you do, Rogers. I am Miss Eugenia Fox-worth."
"You are Eugenia?" he exclaimed. "Begging your pardon, Miss Foxworth, but the major used to call that name when he—" Rogers cleared his throat. "What are you doing here, miss?"
"I must speak with the major in private, and he has refused to come to see me. So,^ I had to come myself."
"But miss, he will not receive you, and besides, you should not have come alone!"
"A lady is with me, Rogers, but this is where I need to ask for your assistance. I do not wish for her to know where we are. I have told her that we are visiting an ill friend of mine who does not wish to be identified. If you could keep her in the foyer and refuse to tell her the name of your employer, I will find a^way to make Major Stan-field see me for half an hour."
Rogers frowned. "I do not see any reason why I should go against the major's wishes, miss."
Eugenia looked at him soberly, and her voice was very serious. "If I fail in my intent, Rogers, your master will be no more or less unhappy than he is now. If I succeed,
his life will be changed for the better."
"And what is your intent, miss?"
"To become Mrs. Stanfield."
The valet's eyebrows shot upwards and stayed there, even as his mouth slowly curved into a smile. "I see, miss. If you will be so kind as to bring your friend to the door, I will endeavor to do my part."
Eugenia sent him a warm look of gratitude on her way out, and a few minutes later the carriage had been sent round to the stables, and the two ladies had been shown into the front parlor. Miss Preston-Smythe had somewhat nervously accepted an offer of tea, and Miss Foxworth, carrying the basket of fruit, excused herself in order to pay her charitable visit.
It took a while for her to locate the major's whereabouts, but she finally opened the correct door, discovering him in his bedchamber. He sat in an armchair near the window, and she was relieved to see that he was decently clad, though he was still in shirtsleeves. Her eyes adored him silently, sweeping over the familiar lines of his handsome face and the broad set of his shoulders; he was more muscular than she had recalled, and the gravity of his expression was more pronounced.
He did not hear her entrance over the rustle of the newspaper which he was attempting to fold with his one hand, and it was not until she moved forward into the room that he became aware of her presence.
The major leapt to his feet with a startled oath, which Eugenia discreetly ignored. "Eugenia! What the devil are you doing here?" His face was very pale, a fact of which she might have taken notice had it not been for the pounding of her own heart.
"I came to see you, Will," she said softly. "I had to talk to you."
"You should not be here! Where's Rogers? I'll have his hide for this!" The major was finding it difficult to regain his bearings with the very woman he had sought to put
out of his mind standing before him, her red hair glinting in the morning light.
"Pray keep your voice low; Priscilla Preston-Smythe is downstairs, and I do not want her to hear you. She does not know where we are, but her presence serves to mind the proprieties, so you need not concern yourself about that. And do not blame poor Ro
gers, because I gave him no choice but to cooperate.
"But none of that matters. Will, I had to tell you why I was so shocked to see you two days ago. I had mourned your death for so long, and even now, as I look at you, I can scarcely believe that you are still alive." Without being fully aware of her actions, she stepped closer and raised her hand in an involuntary gesture. But when she would have touched his chest, he moved aside, and the small rejection wounded her. "Why did you not tell me you were alive, Will?" she persisted. "How could you have been so cruel?"
The major's reply was curt in tone. "I did not think that I would survive my injury. It was best for you to go back to the pleasant life for which you were suited by nature and which I see you have been enjoying in my absence. I knew it would not be long before you had forgotten me."
"Will, you cannot mean what you are saying. I loved you so much, and when I thought that you were dead, I — " Tears blocked her throat for a moment. "I did not think that I could go on living. I had to pretend, so that no one knew. But Will, I —oh, please, let me hold you!"
Major Stanfield had no time x to protest before Eugenia hurled herself against his chest. His arm tightened around her for a brief instant but then he recollected himself and released her, standing very still as she quietly sobbed against his shirt.
It took a moment for her to realize that her embrace was not being returned. The feel of his warm strength overwhelmed her senses at first, along with the reality
that he was truly alive; but then she gradually became aware that he was simply standing motionless before the storm of her own emotion. She forced her fingers to release the folds of his shirt, fighting a sharp stab of humiliation.
"You must compose yourself, Eugenia," Major Stan-field said coolly. "You are overwrought."
"I beg your pardon." She stepped away from him, fumbling for a handkerchief and averting her eyes. "I will endeavor not to embarrass you further."
"You do not . . . embarrass me." His voice was more gruff than he would have liked. "I simply do not wish for you to distress yourself further on my account. The past is over and done with; you have your own life, and I have mine."
Eugenia raised her head sharply at that, looking at him through eyes that were still moist. "What do you mean, Will? Are you married?"
He turned and walked toward the window, so that his features were harshly etched in the bright light. "No. I am scarcely a likely prospect for that now."
"What on earth do you mean?"
Major Stanfield laughed mockingly. "Oh, come now, Eugenia, you needn't pretend. I know that my infirmity renders me an object of disgust or pity in the eyes of most women; you yourself were repelled by it."
"No! I was shocked, which is not at all the same thing!"
"Forgive me if I fail to perceive the distinction. In any case, I cannot pretend to be the same man I was before, and no woman wishes to be chained to a cripple."
"You are being nonsensical!" Eugenia exclaimed indignantly. "A cripple indeed! Here you are, hale and handsome, and yet you speak as though you were prostrate upon your bed!"
"None the less, Eugenia, I am unfit to be a husband."
She narrowed her eyes. "Oh? Do you mean that there
were other parts of you shot off that you have failed to mention? "
"Eugenia!" He strugged against a smile and lost. "I meant that I cannot manage the simplest tasks. I cannot write a letter, I cannot ride, I cannot — "
"None of that counts for aught! You may learn to write with your left hand and I daresay other things besides. But even though you should be missing a dozen limbs, it would not matter to a woman who loved you. It does not matter to me!"
"You do not know what you are saying, my dear," Major Stanfield replied a shade too calmly. "You do not love me; what you feel is mere sympathy. And I can no longer be part of the active, sociable life that is so much a part of you. Riding to hounds, playing cards, dancing, all that is lost to me forever. We no longer suit, even if we thought we once did."
Eugenia could not bear to see the dreams that had quickened in her heart be crushed again without a struggle. "Will Stanfield, listen to me. I do love you. I never stopped loving you, and I never shall. Now I shall ask you a question, and I want a truthful answer: have you stopped loving me?"
Time had stopped for a long moment before he made his reply. "That is not the point."
"You cannot say no! Oh, Will!" Upon which exclamation she launched herself once more into his uncooperative embrace, this time flinging her arms about his neck and planting a kiss upon his cheek before letting go.
She faced him squarely, and what she glimpsed in his eyes gave her hope and the courage to continue. "You promised me a betrothal when you returned, Will, and I shall hold you to that promise."
The major frowned at her remark, but she was already whisking herself out the door.
When she came downstairs, Rogers was standing behind Miss Preston-Smythe's chair, and he cast her an en-
quiring look which changed to one of puzzlement when he perceived her red-rimmed eyes. Eugenia responded with a brief, rueful smile. No victory, but as yet no surrender!
Miss Preston-Smythe rose to her feet. "Why, Eugenia, have you been weeping?"
Miss Foxworth dabbed delicately at her eyes. "I'm afraid so, Priscilla. You see, I have just learned that my friend's ailment is . . . irreversible."
"What?" Priscilla exclaimed. "There is no hope of a cure?"
"Alas, no. Indeed, if what has been lost should somehow be restored, it would be nothing short of a medical miracle."
A loud snort from Rogers was turned hastily into a cough. Eugenia turned to him with only the faintest twinkle in her eye. "Would you be so kind as to summon our carriage?" she requested gravely.
"Of course, madam," Rogers replied with a bow. "And might I say, madam, I am assured that despite any contrariness of mood you may have encountered, the invalid was most grateful for the call."
The. two ladies departed soon afterwards, much to the relief of Miss Preston-Smythe, who had no wish to linger in the presence of any mysterious diseases. And Eugenia, while not precisely cheered by her encounter with Major Stanfield, was nonetheless hopeful. It was perhaps enough of a miracle that he should be restored to her alive; the rest would depend upon her own ingenuity.
When she returned home, after depositing Miss Preston-Smythe at her own residence, she was surprised to find Charles in the library, going through a stack of accounts with apparent ill temper.
"These damned bills are all in confusion!" he exclaimed. "I must hire a man of business one of these days; I cannot make heads or tails of this!"
"Charles, is everything all right?" Eugenia inquired so-
licitously; normally, her levelheaded brother took great pride in managing the household accounts with his usual efficiency.
"No, it is not. Well, I suppose it is, but I have something of a headache. And where have you been this morning?"
Eugenia paused to remove her gloves. "Well . . ." she drawled, "I do not believe you would like it if I told you."
"What have you been up to now, Jen?" he sighed.
"'I have been paying a morning call upon Major Stan-field."
"What did you say?"
"I said, I have been—"
"I heard you say that! I meant, have you taken leave of your senses? You know better than to visit a gentleman's lodgings!"
"Oh, but I was not unescorted, Charles. Priscilla came with me."
"Priscilla? Oh, now I know you are funning. Miss Pres-ton-Smythe is all that is proper, and I cannot imagine her engaging in such hoydenish behavior."
"Indeed? Well, all I shall say is that you may ask her yourself whether she accompanied me this morning and whether she waited in the front parlor for half an hour while I paid my call."
"My God!" Charles exclaimed. "Miss Preston-Smythe has always droned on about how undisciplined you are— which is, by the bye, absolutely true,—but I thought for certain that she
herself would set a better example. In fact, her uprightness of character was the principal reason why I offered for her, even thbugh personally I — "
"You what, Charles?"
"Never mind! I simply can scarce believe what I am hearing!"
"Do not exaggerate the crime, Charles," Eugenia said with a twinge of remorse. "No real harm was done."
"No harm, indeed! Your reputation, and hers, could
have been blasted forever. What if one of his male acquaintances had stopped by and found you there? You would have found yourself in a terribly compromising situation. This kind of thing is no more than I would have expected from you, Eugenia, but coming from Priscilla, this is rather a shock."
And with the supposedly perfect image of his betrothed thus further tainted in his mind, Charles went off to brood in solitude. Females were a pesky lot, indeed; in fact, the only ones of his acquaintance whom he actually liked were his sister, at times, and her friend, Frances Wellthorpe. Fanny was rather a taking little thing, come to think of it. But as for the rest of them, they were undoubtedly more trouble than they were worth.
Mr. Talbot toyed with his quizzing-glass, one elegantly booted foot crossed over the other as he lounged in the most comfortable chair of the Foxworth drawing room. He rather liked the new yellow color scheme; Eugenia, with her unerring eye, had chosen a bright shade that set off the room's dark wood and brass to perfection. It also set off her own coloring, and Mr. Talbot enjoyed the pretty picture she made as she perched upon the sofa in an amber-hued gown. His mood was guarded, nonetheless, as it had been ever since he had received her missive earlier that day, inviting him to pay a call.
"I may as well get straight to the point," Eugenia declared. "Henry, I need to ask you for some advice regarding the male sex."
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