by Kruger, Mary
“I know he does.” They had reached the Tremont landau, and Giles handed her in. “Ah, well, it may yet come to nothing. Just another summer folly.”
Anne glanced down at him. Was that all she was to him, a folly? “Of course,” she said, and turned away.
The day that had started out on such a note of excitement ended quietly. The soldiers had dispersed; the fishermen had gone back to their boats and their nets, while their wives dragged cranky, crying children home, leaving behind them the debris and detritus of celebration. The ton was leaving, too, the only reminder of their presence furrows in the grass from carriage wheels. Though the sun still shone brightly, though the air was warm and the breeze fresh, a forlorn air hung over the scene. Or was that, Anne thought, climbing into the landau, only the way she saw it? In the space of a few moments, her world had fallen to pieces. She was, after all, just another summer folly.
Chapter Twenty
“Oh, Mommy, look!” Jamie pointed as another starburst of lights lit up the night sky. “I do like fireworks, Mommy. I wish they could go on forever and ever.”
Anne smiled down at her son. It had been a long and exciting day for him. They had seen the Prince drive down the Steyne with his young daughter, Princess Charlotte, looking charming in white muslin and a gypsy hat, and they had marveled at the oxen being roasted for tonight’s celebrations by the townspeople. Now there was a wonderful display of fireworks over the sea, ending the day for Jamie. For her, though, the night was just beginning. “I know, pet, but I think that was the last one.”
“No, Mommy,” Jamie protested as Anne gently, but firmly, took his shoulders and propelled him in from the upstairs balcony where the family had gathered to watch the fireworks. “Maybe there’ll be more.”
“I don’t think so, lad.” Giles lifted Jamie into his arms, to Anne’s astonishment. “It’s bed for you.”
“Could we play another game of toy soldiers, Uncle Giles?”
“No. It’s past your bedtime.” Giles strode along, Anne following, and deposited Jamie on his bed, sitting beside him. “Mind what Nurse says, now. I’ll hear about it if you don’t.”
“Yes, Uncle Giles,” Jamie said, sounding subdued, and suddenly threw his arms around Giles’s neck in a stranglehold as he tried to rise. “I love you, Uncle Giles.”
Over Jamie’s shoulder, Giles looked at Anne in blank astonishment. “I love you too, Jamie,” he said, his voice husky, and then lightly tapped him on the bottom. “Bed for you now, lad.”
“Yes, Uncle Giles. G’night.”
“Good night, Jamie,” Giles said from the door, and turned to see Anne regarding him, a slight smile on her face. “What?”
“You’d make a good father, Giles,” she said.
“It’s as I said. The boy needs a firm hand.”
“Humbug. You cannot fool me, you know. Well, never mind. I’ll just tuck him in and join you belowstairs in a moment.”
“Of course.” Giles turned, and stopped. “By the way, did I tell you you look lovely tonight?”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Anne smiled at him and then whisked herself into the nursery, glad for the moment to escape his searching eyes. Being with Jamie was much, much safer.
The time to leave for the ball at the Castle Inn, being held tonight in honor of the Prince’s birthday, came all too soon for Anne. She kissed Jamie, nearly asleep, and then rose, settling the skirts of her gown about her. This was the favorite of all the gowns she had purchased this summer, the turquoise silk shot through with green and golden threads. Cut very simply, with a high, brief bodice and a straight skirt, it draped over her curves in liquid folds and shimmered as she walked. White satin slippers and white kid gloves completed the ensemble, while at her ears and throats she wore pearls. Pearls had also been threaded through her hair, drawn up away from her face and piled atop her head. A simple look, she thought, glancing quickly into the mirror in Jamie’s room before leaving, but effective. She would not be the most beautiful woman at the ball, but then, she didn’t want to be.
“And remember, Elizabeth, you are not to waltz tonight,” Julia was saying as Anne descended the stairs into the hall. “Most especially not with Lieutenant Bancroft.”
“No, Mama,” Beth said docilely, and looked up. For a moment Anne was certain she saw a spark of deviltry in her eyes. “Oh, Anne, you look lovely.”
“Indeed, she does.” Giles stepped across to her and bent over her hand, turning it at the last moment so that his kiss fell on her palm. A shiver ran up her arm. “Do you plan to waltz tonight, Anne?”
“Heavens, no!” She was aware her voice sounded breathless, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Why did Giles persist in affecting her so? “Not after what happened last time. You would scold me again, Giles.”
“Perhaps.” Almost absently he took her arm to lead her out, leaving Julia only Beth for support. “I may, though.”
“You? You’d never do anything so undignified, Giles.”
“No?” Giles’s gaze flickered over her, lingering for a moment at her neckline. “I suppose it would depend on my partner.”
“And who might that be?”
“I wonder if Mrs. Priestly knows how to waltz.”
“What!”
“No, probably not, since she’s a missionary.” He grinned down at her. “And pray don’t tell me you’re not jealous.”
“I am not.” Anne held her head high as she stepped into the Tremont barouche. Giles had been in an odd, capricious mood all day. She would not let him ruffle her, though, no matter how he tried. She might not be able to return home with her heart intact, but she would still have her pride.
The ball was already in full progress when at last the Tremonts entered. A country dance was playing, and the room was a blur of color and sound and scent. It seemed as if anyone with any pretensions to fashion was here tonight; the Assembly Rooms, though large, were filled to bursting. It was rumored there were no fewer than eight hundred people present this evening, wearing evening finery of all descriptions. Many ladies were dressed in classical white, in silks and satins embroidered all over with gold or silver or even white silk threads, while the younger ladies wore gowns of muslin that were more demure, but no less elaborate. All wore jewels that were surely worth a king’s ransom. Nor were the gentlemen to be put in the shade. Besides the soldiers’ scarlet or blue uniforms, there were evening coats and satin breeches in every hue, from the more somber to the outmoded bright colors of an earlier time. Against such a backdrop Beau Brummel and his set, the dandies, impeccably clad in black and white, looked even more distinguished. So, Anne thought, did Giles, in his evening coat of black velvet, worn with white satin breeches. She tried not to be, but she couldn’t help being aware of him, of the warm strength of his arm under her fingers, of his solid, yet graceful, height, of his burnished golden hair and his compelling warm silver eyes. He was, by far, the most handsome man there, and he was not hers.
“Your Grace. Lady Elizabeth.” Lieutenant Bancroft had suddenly appeared by their side, though a few moments before he hadn’t been in sight. “A pleasure seeing you again. And may I say, Lady Elizabeth, that you’re looking lovely tonight.”
“Thank you, sir.” Beth blushed prettily, and raised her fan to her face. To Giles and Anne, who had played this game before, the message was clear. Beth, of all people, was flirting. They glanced at each other in quick, shared amusement, before looking away.
“I hope you are not engaged for the next dance.”
Beth made an elaborate pretense of studying her dance card. “Why, no, sir, I am not.”
“Then I would be honored if you would dance with me.”
“Elizabeth,” Julia growled.
Beth ignored her. “I’d like that, sir.” Smiling up at him, she allowed Thomas to lead her out onto the floor, where the sets for the next dance were forming.
“Hmph. That girl is getting willful.”
“You can’t expect her not to enjoy herself, Mother,” Gi
les said.
“Hmph. Not with that man.”
“It is only one dance.” He grinned. “Be glad it’s not a waltz.”
“She had best not waltz. I will not countenance it. Remember that, Giles. It would only make you look foolish, as well.”
“Yes, Mother. Shall we find a chair for you? You won’t wish to stand all night. Anne, you won’t mind if we leave you for a moment?”
“No, I see Felicity over there. I shall go talk with her.” Smiling, she turned away, hoping that Julia hadn’t noticed what she had. Beth and Lieutenant Bancroft were not among the couples dancing, and were nowhere to be seen.
“We shouldn’t be in here,” Beth said breathlessly, as Thomas pulled her along by the hand into a tiny anteroom. “Someone might come in—”
“Let them.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, hard, so that her protest came out as a muffled squeak. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for that?”
“Yes.” Beth leaned her head against his chest, her fingers clinging to his shoulders. “But I cannot stay here long. Mama already scolded me today about talking with you.”
“Beth, Beth. When are you going to stop allowing your mother to run your life?”
Beth looked up at him, her eyes huge and clear. “She needs me, Thomas.”
“She’ll never let you go. Don’t you know that?”
“She needs me,” Beth repeated sullenly. Oh, couldn’t he see the struggle going on within her? Her mother needed her, yes, and yet, since that afternoon, she kept seeing images of Thomas falling in battle, without her there. It was almost beyond bearing. “Oh, don’t let’s quarrel, Thomas, not when we so rarely see each other.”
“Whose fault is that, Beth?”
She raised her chin, but she was smiling. “That was splendid this morning. Though when I saw you fall.” She shuddered. “I thought you were hurt.”
Thomas’s eyes were serious as he looked down at her. “I’m a soldier, Beth.”
“Yes, I know that, silly.” She picked invisible specks of lint from his coat. “And a very handsome one, too.”
“Beth. Look at me.” His eyes were still serious, and she felt her heart fall. “You must promise not to tell what I am going to tell you to a soul.”
Dread settled in her stomach like a lump. “You’ve been posted. Oh, Thomas—”
“Yes. We received our orders today.”
Beth’s throat felt very dry. “Where?”
“Spain.”
“Spain!” She broke free and whirled away, her arms wrapped around herself to keep from shivering. “But—I won’t be able to see you.”
“You made that choice, Beth.”
“Oh, don’t be so cruel!” She squeezed her eyes shut. What she had felt that morning was as nothing compared to her feelings now. Then it had been a game. Now it was deadly real. He might never come back. “When?”
“Not for a few weeks.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her toward him. “We have some time, sweetheart. If you’ll only admit that what we have is real.”
“Giles is planning to return to Tremont soon,” she said dully. “He wants to be there for the harvest.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Oh, Thomas—”
“Then marry me, Beth,” he urged. “Marry me now. We could get a special license, and—”
“I can’t.” Beth broke away from him. “It would kill my mother.”
“Beth, she’s never going to let you go! She’s had her life. Damn it, when will you have a chance for yours?”
“I have a life, Thomas.”
“Oh, do you? Forever at that old lady’s beck and call? What will you do when she’s not there anymore and no one else needs you?”
“Thomas—”
“What will you do if I don’t come back?”
“Oh, that’s not fair!”
“I don’t have the time to be fair, Beth,” he said, quietly. “I love you. You mean the world to me. I can’t bear the thought of leaving if you are not a part of my life.”
“Oh, Thomas, don’t make me choose—”
“I have to.” He stood still, unyielding. “I want you, Beth, but I want you as my wife. Nothing less will do for me. If you will not marry me, then I will leave, right now, and we won’t see each other again.”
“Thomas!” It was a cry of pain.
“Which is it to be, Beth? What is your decision?”
“Oh, God.” Beth wrapped her arms around herself, and for a long moment there was silence. “All right. All right, I’ll talk to my mother. And if she doesn’t agree,” she swallowed, hard, “I’ll marry you, anyway.”
Thomas’s eyes lit up, and he strode toward her. “Capital!”
“But.” She held up her hand. “You must speak to my brother and obtain his approval. I will not break faith with him, too. And you must never, never use such methods against me again, Thomas. Is that clear?”
Thomas stopped still, staring at her. She was no longer a shy young girl, but a woman. “You’d make a good colonel, Beth,” he said, grinning, and Beth’s face crumpled.
“Don’t mock me,” she said on a sob, as he took the last step toward her and took her into his arms. “I cannot bear it. Oh, Thomas.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He put his hand to her head, pressing it against his shoulder. “Sorry I did what I did. I promise, I’ll never do anything like that to you again.”
“You had better not, Thomas Bancroft,” she said, stepping back, smiling, though her hands were on her hips. “I will make you pay if you do.”
“God help me,” he groaned, and brought his mouth down on hers.
Giles stood near the wall in the ballroom, watching Anne dance. God, she was lovely. There was a sparkle to her, a vivacity that outshone all others, even the most classic beauties. Yet underneath lay something that he hadn’t before realized was there, sadness and strength, qualities that hadn’t been there when first he’d known her. The strength, he admired, but the sadness hurt.
He understood so much more about her now, since he had learned the truth of her marriage to Freddie. He understood her need for independence, her adamant stand against physically disciplining Jamie, her occasional wariness. He understood why she had run from his arms that night in the drawing room, when the passion and need had risen between them as never before. At least, he thought he did. It was something Obadiah hadn’t even hinted at, but he suspected that Freddie had not been a gentle lover. And that meant he had a struggle ahead of him, to prove to Anne that lovemaking didn’t have to be that way. Just now that looked like a daunting challenge.
Beth suddenly came into his view, dancing with the others, and his gaze sharpened. Now, where had she been? He thought he had an idea, and he wasn’t pleased. In the throes of her first serious romance, Beth was not acting at all discreetly.
“Good evening, sir,” a voice said beside him, and Giles turned to see Lieutenant Bancroft.
“Good evening.” Giles’s voice was cool. “You are not with my sister?”
Thomas hesitated. “I was, sir.”
“Were you.” Giles kept his gaze impassive, while mentally giving the other man credit for his honesty and courage in admitting such a thing. “Not in this room.”
“No, sir.” He paused again. “In an anteroom. I asked her to marry me.”
“Ah. I see.” Giles looked out over the dancers. At all costs, he must make this appear a casual conversation. If the gossip mongers got hold of this, there would be the devil to pay. “Without consulting me first?”
“I needed to know how she would answer. It’s not an easy life I’m offering her. At least, not yet.”
Something in the other man’s tone made Giles look up. “You’ve heard something.”
“Yes, sir. I’m to be posted to Spain.”
“When?”
“Soon. This damnable war.” Thomas moved restlessly. “We have to beat Bonaparte, and, believe me, sir, I intend to fight with everything that’s in
me. But, damn it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t have so much to live for before.”
“That raises a question. Several questions, actually. What is Beth supposed to do while you’re off fighting?”
“I don’t intend to bring her with me, sir, if that’s what you mean.”
“I had wondered about it.”
“Beth is stronger than one might think, but following the drum is a hard life for a woman. No, I’d have to leave her behind.”
“Mm-hm. And what if something happens to you, Lieutenant? What if you are killed or injured? I wouldn’t want to see my sister saddled with a cripple for the rest of her days.”
To his credit, Thomas didn’t flinch. “No, sir, nor would I. I’m not wealthy, but I do have an inheritance. Beth would be cared for. I may not have a title, but—”
“That is of no moment. You are the first man Beth has been serious about, and it’s all happened very fast.”
“Yes, sir, I realize that. If things were different I could court her as she deserves. But this is wartime, sir. I haven’t much time.”
“Then why not wait until you are posted home?”
“I love her. She loves me.” He looked directly at Giles. “Will you tell me that counts for nothing?”
Giles looked away. Seven years ago he and Anne had loved each other, and they had let an old lady’s maliciousness separate them. That they now had a second chance was entirely fortuitous. What if they had never met again? What if they had lived out their lives, never knowing the love that could flourish between them? Their lives would have been lacking, empty, barren. But they did have another chance, thank God. Lieutenant Bancroft and Beth might not be so lucky. “Beth is of age,” he said, slowly. “Whatever she decides to do, I cannot stop her.”
“But you could make it dashed unpleasant for her, sir. It would hurt her.” His eyes grew fierce. “And you would have an enemy in me, sir.”