by Robb, J. D.
Yes, that was what she had feared but she was not going to admit that aloud.
“It seems that neither of us trusts the intentions of the other, Miss Stepp—”
“Tresbere, you forgot the coin!” The major made his way down the hall to them, the coin in his fingers and held out to the sergeant.
“No, sir, I gave it to Miss Stepp just this minute.”
“I put it in my pocket.” She felt for it. “It’s gone!”
The three of them stared at the coin in the major’s hand.
“How can that be?” the sergeant asked. Confusion colored his voice.
“Oh! Oh!” Martha said, almost dancing with excitement. “I know what happened. I know what it means.” Martha nodded vigorously at the major, who seemed to consider her words.
After a long moment and with a decisive nod of his own, more like a jerk of his head, it was clear the major had made a decision. “We will not discuss this in the passage.” As he spoke, the sergeant acted on the statement and pushed open the door to the nearest room, some sort of sitting room, and waited for the other two to go in before he followed them and closed the door.
“Sit,” the major ordered. Both gentlemen waited for her to take a seat. None of these chairs had made the top of her list but Martha chose the least comfortable one and waited while the other two seated themselves.
The major stretched his leg out and rubbed it with some effort. Was his pain that constant, Martha wondered? How interesting that he had not used his wish to end it.
The sergeant rose quickly and found a footstool for his major. With a grunt of thanks the major rested his leg on it.
“Now, if you would explain your coin’s odd behavior, Miss Stepp.”
“It is not my coin anymore, Major, sir. It is now yours.” The certainty and joy that the magic coin was in the right hands, and, yes, the relief, made her giddy with pleasure.
“How does a coin choose who owns it?”
Martha closed her eyes and willed herself to start at the beginning, or at least start at some point earlier than ten minutes ago.
“I came into possession of the coin quite by accident when I was employed by the Earl Weston. Actually, the coin came to me right after I had been dismissed.” She started at her lap, hating the truth but determined to be honest.
“It was in someone else’s hands before that?”
“Oh, Major, I can only assume so. I found it on a table where I was employed and I picked it up to examine it because it was so unusual, and from that moment on it has been as much a part of me as my beating heart. I did not steal it,” she insisted.
Both the sergeant and the major nodded apparent understanding and Martha relaxed some.
“In the years I have had it, nine years, I have traveled all over England, been employed in numerous households, and seen the coin grant wishes that would amaze. I once worked for a couple whose minds switched from one body to the other in response to a wish that they could understand each other better. There was a woman who was given a shawl that granted the wish of invisibility so she could understand what people really thought of her.”
“There can be no doubt that this coin is truly one of nature’s oddities.” The major examined the coin and clutched it tight in his fist.
The sergeant was listening with interest. Martha saw no doubt in his face and was relieved. The idea that he did not trust her was upsetting. She trusted him, she was sure of that, just doubted his good judgment when it came to women. She brought herself back to the moment.
“There were many more conventional wishes granted, but I tell you those so that you will see what a responsibility it is to have the safety of the coin in your hands.”
The major nodded again. Martha could see the coin glowing ever so slightly as he held it, conveying just enough magic to convince him.
“Why did it choose me?” the major asked.
“I do believe it was what you wished for.” Martha waited for the major to recall his words.
“But I wished for fulfilling work.”
“The coin does interpret the wish in its own unique way. I warned you of that.”
“You are telling me that my work is to care for the coin?”
“I promise you it is very fulfilling.” At first, she added to herself. She wondered if the major would tire of the responsibility, not the least of which was the need to judge who would accept the coin’s magic and who to avoid lest they think the one who offered it quite mad. “Though, in all honesty, I must tell you that I am happy to be done with it and will run away as fast as I can if I ever come upon another of nature’s oddities.”
The major smiled. “I do suspect that you only need a respite, dear girl. For my part I should like very much to assume the role of the coin’s keeper.” His smile grew into a grin. “I should like it very much, indeed.”
Turning to the sergeant, he held out the coin. “You first, Jack.” He glanced from Martha to the sergeant. “Or have you made your wish already?”
There was an uncomfortable pause as Martha avoided looking at the sergeant. He stared at the coin. “Martha offered it to me and I declined.”
“Will you reconsider then?”
The sergeant took the coin and folded it tightly in his palm. He looked off into the middle distance, then shook his head, handing the coin back to the major.
“No.” The sergeant looked at Martha, his expression solemn. “No, sir. As I told Martha, I have no need of wishes, but ask directly for what I want. It is how I judge whether it is an honorable want or not.”
The major nodded but Martha noticed that the coin glowed a moment, not the burst of light that had validated the major’s wish but a brief glimmer only she seemed aware of. She was almost positive that the sergeant had thought a wish and the coin had heard, even though he seemed to have thought better of it.
The bell rang for the servants’ dinner and Martha started. “Oh, dear, I have not finished my morning chores!”
She gathered up her basket and hurried for the stairs. “Good luck to you, Major. I shall be near if you have any more questions.”
JACK SAT ON THE BENCH NEAR THE KITCHEN DOOR, considering his day, the highs and the lows. He was relieved that the major had something to do, even if the care of the coin and the distribution of wishes seemed a fanciful way to spend one’s days.
He had thought of a wish to make if he had been so inclined. He had wished silently that he would find someone in his bed. Thank God he had not declared it his wish, for that someone had a name and he had no desire to compromise Martha Stepp in any way except, perhaps, in his dreams.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The house settled into a quieter rhythm once the earl returned to London. The countess went with him and the plan was for the major to join them after he had found a valet.
“Why is he not going to London to find one?” Martha asked Ellen as the two of them made up the beds and tidied the major’s suite.
“John tells me that the major is not going to stay in London for long and wants someone who will be willing to move around the country with him for a few years before he finds a place to settle.”
Martha wondered how much his possession of the coin had to do with that decision.
“John says he has asked some of the footmen if they are interested.”
“Oh, I see,” Martha said. “He could send the footman to London and the earl’s man could train him properly. He could wait for the major or come back for some practice so that he will be less nervous.”
“That’s a good idea, Martha. I’ll tell John to suggest he come back for a bit.”
Where will the sergeant go and what will he do? Martha wondered. “Which of the footmen?” she asked instead.
“Joseph, Melvin, and Hasbro,” Ellen answered promptly.
“What an adventure it will be for one of them.”
“Yes, though why one needs adventure to make life complete is beyond my ken.”
It was a familiar comment an
d the source of some discussion between them. For her part Martha thought that having a child was the greatest of adventures, but Ellen insisted it was what women were made for. Anyway, there was no point in talking it through yet again.
Martha gathered last night’s tea tray. “I am going down to see if the linen is ready. Will you check the dressing room to be sure that nothing else is needed there?”
“Of course.”
Martha made her way down the stairs and out the garden door. The boys were supposed to be weeding but it looked to her like they were more actively engaged in playing with the dogs that were usually the major’s constant companions.
Looking around she saw the major heading up from the stables with the sergeant at his side, absorbed in conversation and not noticing the chaos his dogs were causing.
Martha loved watching the sergeant in unguarded moments. He gave his complete attention to whomever was speaking. You could see it in the way his head was bent and his eyes narrowed slightly as though he were taking in more than words. She loved that about him. The way he seemed to care about everyone in his world from the countess to the gardener’s boys.
WITH THE FINAL DETAIL ARRANGED, THE MAJOR TURNED to take the path to the front of the house. The sergeant headed toward the kitchen and smiled at the boys and the dogs now tumbling over some vegetable seedlings. Their father would be furious. And there was Martha Stepp making one of her endless trips from the laundry with her basket of clean linen. He looked up to see Martha’s friend Ellen closing the window over his bed. He’d forgotten to do that this morning.
The focus of Craig’s Castle might be the earl and his family but the lifeblood was the staff he had come to know and watch from the very spot where Ellen stood now. Though he’d been a part of it a short time, even he had found a place for himself here.
There was no doubt in his mind that this next adventure would have been far more appealing in the company of a good woman. Where had he gone wrong with Martha? She was more than a good woman. She was full of life and energy and had a kind of joy in living that made even the mundane fun. His happiest time these past months had been sitting on the bench outside the kitchen talking with her. So innocent and yet filled with such possibility.
It had all changed that day he had found her in the dressing room, where she had so obviously been lying on his bed. He wondered if it was possible to start again with her or at least go back to those comfortable days when they shared the bench by the garden door and talked of the past, the present, and hinted at their future.
And the final nail in the coffin that held his hopes was that comment to the major that now that he had the coin she would run from any other display of nature’s oddities. He might not have explained his gift to her but he had her answer to her willingness to share it with him.
As he approached the boys saw him, abandoned the dogs, and ran for him. The dogs were not about to be left behind, and in a flash the innocent scene changed dramatically.
The boy in the lead looked back over his shoulder to see if the others were gaining on him just as Martha came around a corner. The boy ran into her at full speed.
Martha fell back and her basket went flying. She landed with what Jack knew would be a bone-jarring thump. The boy fared worse. He flew back, bouncing off the basket, and landed flat on his back, his head hitting one of the paving stones that marked the path to the kitchen door.
Martha sat for a minute, gathering the laundry and stuffing it back into the basket. But the boy did not move. The other boys gathered around him and Jack could feel fear radiating from them even from yards away.
With no thought but for Martha and the hurt child, Jack raced toward them. It took him no time to reach them but Martha was already on her feet, the basket forgotten. She gave the boys orders as if born to the task.
“Robbie, run and find your pa.”
“Lester, do not hover over Edward. Let him have some air. Mickey, you go find your ma and tell her that your brother needs her.”
Lester looked up, his eyes large with terror. “I’m not sure he’s breathing, miss.”
“He’s breathing,” Martha told him, and Jack knew she was willing it to be so.
“Martha,” he said, speaking gently so as not to frighten her.
She whirled to face him. “Oh, Jack,” she said, the relief in her voice evident. “Edward,” she began, but the sergeant stopped her with a hand on her arm, willing calm and comfort through it.
“I saw from the path. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She drew a deep breath. “Better now that you’re here.”
He nodded and turned to the boy, so still on the ground, his face chalk white. “I have some experience with this kind of injury. May I examine him?”
“Of course. I’m not in charge. I was going to see if the earl’s physician son would be willing to examine him, but you probably know as much about this sort of injury as he does. We should move him off the cold ground.”
She made to do so but Jack stopped her. “No, let me see him as he is.”
Jack knelt beside the boy as Martha drew Lester away from his brother. He resisted.
“Move aside so I can help your brother,” Jack ordered.
“You’re a surgeon then?” the boy asked.
“No, but I have been at war for years and am adept at helping the wounded.”
The boy nodded with some reluctance.
“The best help you could be right now is to go find me a cloth wet with water. Martha will help me until you come back.” Martha of the magic coin would have no trouble understanding what she was about to see even if she did not wish it to be part of her world.
With Lester out of sight, Jack bent over the still form and put his hands on the boy’s cheek and then on his head. With one hand hovering over Edward’s heart, and the other a scant inch from the top of his head, Jack Tresbere closed his eyes and called on the healing power deep inside. He could feel the warmth of it move through his body and radiate from the palm of his hand.
He stayed that way for as long as the heat poured from him, even though it weakened him more than he would have liked. Finally, as color returned to the boy’s cheeks, he realized how close the child had been to death. Jack moved his hands away and sat on the pavement.
He did not look at Martha and the silence stretched between them. When they could hear the others returning, she moved away from him, but not before he heard her say, “Dear God in heaven. How do you stand it?”
He looked up at her, too tired to do more than try to breathe. Now she would turn and leave, run from him. As far from this “nature’s oddity” as she could.
A crowd of people burst on the scene just as Edward moaned.
Jack stumbled out of the way and found the bench near the door. He collapsed onto it and—with his head in his hands—tried to shut out the sounds around him and concentrated on regaining enough strength to stand, walk, climb the stairs, and find a bed.
“Do you need help?” Martha sat next to him while she waited for his answer.
He almost stopped breathing altogether when he realized that she had not abandoned him.
“Your arm?” He could barely speak the words but she stood up and offered him her arm.
Leaning on her, he let her pull him through the empty kitchen and up one flight of stairs. She pushed open a door into a room he had never been in before.
He fell onto the sofa despite her warning. “It’s not very comfortable.”
It didn’t matter. He needed only rest and quiet. And her.
WHEN HE WAS STRETCHED OUT ON THE THANKFULLY LONG sofa, Martha leaned close. “Do you want me to find the major?”
“No. Sleep” was all he said before he slipped off into what she hoped was a restful repose and not some prelude to a brain fever.
Martha watched him for a few minutes, or longer. She really had lost track of time and assumed at the moment that none of the usual rules applied.
With his eyes closed and his
breathing deep and even, she saw something in him that she had never seen before. He might be a tall, well-built man but he was as vulnerable as the boy he had saved or the women he seemed to have no use for. He was used to being dependent on no one. It had been his way for so long she wondered if he could change. Did he even want to change?
Apparently not, she decided, as she covered him with a blanket that she found in a cupboard along the wall.
Martha tiptoed out of the room and went to tell the major what the sergeant had done. If there was any man Sergeant Tresbere would accept help from, it was Major Alistair Craig.
The major listened to her story with apparent equanimity.
“He let you watch him?” was the first question the major asked.
It was not what she’d expected. “Yes, but he had little choice. Edward was in desperate need.”
“You may say so but I have never known him to allow anyone near while he worked with someone injured.”
I can think about what that means later, she thought. “But you knew of his skill.”
“Yes, because he is why I am alive even with a scar and a bad leg.”
“I see,” she said, a whole new insight passing to her with those words. He had spent his years in the army saving lives, saving many more lives than he had ever taken she guessed. “But does he not need you now, sir?”
The major shook his head. “No, he needs only to sleep to regain his strength. It may take the better part of the day but he will be right as rain once he has awakened and eaten.”
“But that’s incredible.”
“No more incredible than a magic coin, Martha. Now you see why I am more than willing to accept nature’s oddities.”
“Have you seen others, then, besides the coin and the sergeant’s ability to heal?” She was almost afraid of his answer.
“Yes, I knew a colonel’s wife who could tell if one was lying or not. And there have always been gypsies who could see into the future.”
Martha nodded. She’d always thought gypsies were making up stories, but now that the major presented it so matter-of-factly, why should the English be the only ones to have these unexpected gifts?