Scars Upon Her Heart (The Scars of The Heart Series)

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  “I have promised to adopt Bob as my son since he is no longer fit for army service, and the Becketts’ dying wish was that I should take baby Jack. Major, sorry, Colonel Fitzgerald, has already done far too much to protect me in my hour of need. I cannot ask him to give up his career and work in this campaign in order to take responsibility for myself and three children,” Vevina finished quietly, hoping the tears didn’t show.

  Stewart turned to face Wellington to argue the matter, but they could see he was torn between desire and duty.

  The older man said, “Well, Colonel, I must leave this up to your discretion. The lady is releasing you from any obligation. I will abide by your decision, since she has generously allowed you to make your own choice.”

  “As you pointed out, my Lord, it is the least I can do in view of all my brother did to her, and my own reprehensible behavior in taking advantage of her need for protection to press my amorous advances and get her with child,” Stewart said flatly, without a hint of warmth.

  Vevina’s eyes widened, but Stewart continued, “Therefore, the marriage will go ahead, but I do not wish you to go to any trouble about the wedding on our behalf.

  “As for the lady’s qualms about my promotion and the two boys, I shall do my duty as you see fit, my Lord, and therefore agree to go home and be your spokesman, and Lady Vevina’s protector. It is a question of honor.”

  Stewart saluted smartly, turned on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Vevina slumped into a chair, and Wellington called for ADC Monroe to help her upstairs. She was numb with exhaustion and suppressed emotion, and could barely stand.

  Monroe knelt by her chair, scooped his arm behind her knees and carried her up to her room, where he laid her gently on the bed.

  Jeanne came over to remove her clothes, but Vevina shouted petulantly, “Leave me, just leave me!”

  Within an hour, she had succeeded in crying herself to sleep, but the tears brought no relief.

  Vevina slept like the dead for two days after, and even when she finally awakened, her world seemed to have shifted out of focus. Her head was fuzzy, her vision blurred, and she felt as though she were burning up.

  Jeanne bustled about talking excitedly of the wedding, which was meant to take place the next day, but Vevina could barely lift her head off the pillow, nor could she eat more than a mouthful without gagging.

  Mitchell and the others came to visit, but there was no sign of Stewart, and Vevina could sense there was something on Monroe’s mind when he came to see her, bringing baby Jack, who was thriving due to Jeanne’s tender care.

  “Well, Monroe, you look as nervous as a cat on hot coals. Tell me what’s wrong,” Vevina queried after a particularly long silence had fallen in the room.

  “I’m not sure exactly, it’s just that well, you look so downhearted, and I think you are ill. Should I ask my Lord to postpone the wedding?”

  “Do you think it’s best?” Vevina asked quietly.

  “Well, it’s just that....” Monroe hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

  “Come on, out with it.”

  “I beg your pardon for mentioning it, but Colonel Fitzgerald has gone out on manoeuvres, and I don’t think he will be back in time anyway, so...”

  “I think you are trying to tell me something serious, but are too polite to say it outright.”

  “The Colonel is drunk, Madame. He has been ever since you spoke to him,” Monroe blurted out before he could change his mind.

  “No doubt all this has been a great shock to him,” Vevina murmured, her heart sinking. “Very well, give my Lord my respectful compliments, and tell him I’m not well. Ask him if I may please have a fortnight’s grace period.”

  Monroe looked touchingly relieved that she had taken the whole thing so well, and came back with an affirmative from Wellington a few minutes later. Then he went off to find Doc Gallagher to have a look at Vevina, and soon she had more company in the shape of Bob, who was bored.

  “Surely he can stay here now, help me with his brother Jack,” Vevina said, reaching out for Bob’s hand, and resting it on the baby she held in her arms.

  Her next visitor was Captain Olivier, then Mitchell, and finally Francis Baines, who was delighted to see she was awake, and brought her news that Wilfred was on his way.

  “Oh dear, but the wedding isn’t going to go ahead now.”

  Every pair of male eyes in the room stared at her.

  Over the next few days, Vevina had the constant companionship of all her nearest and dearest except Stewart. He had appeared once after her conversation with Monroe, looking very ill, and had politely asked after her health and then disappeared. Vevina longed to speak to him alone, but it was impossible.

  Stewart called in to see her every day after that, but there always seemed to be someone with her, especially her two new sons and Private Mitchell, who had grown very attached to Jack.

  At the end of the week, she was able to get out of bed, and though she was still haunted by all she had witnessed in Spain and France, and at the fearful battle of Badajoz, her natural vitality could not be suppressed forever.

  She decided to take a walk into the country with Jeanne, Bob and Francis, and was ambling along, deep in thought, when the baby inside her gave an enormous kick, causing her to stop and gasp.

  Just then, Bob ran off in search of a particular smell of wildflower, and Jeanne, fearful of his safety, chased after him.

  The baby kicked again, and Vevina laughed. “My goodness, it’s so strong.”

  Francis had held onto her arm for support, and could feel it too. “May I?” he asked quietly.

  Vevina guided her friend’s hand to the right place.

  They both laughed as the baby kicked again. Then Francis said shyly, “My lady, I would ask you a serious question now, if you don’t think it too impertinent.”

  Vevina looked up, her eyes suddenly serious. “Of course, Francis. I owe you my life. My child does too. Feel free to ask me anything you like, and if it is in my power to grant it, I shall.”

  “I wish your reputation and good character to remain unblemished, so I am offering…. If Colonel Fitzgerald does not wish...” Francis stammered, colouring.

  Vevina put a finger to his lips, and said, “Don’t be silly. I’m not some naive girl who was taken advantage of. I knew what I was doing. I shall always love him. I could never consider marrying anyone else, even if it were the prudent thing to do.”

  “I’m glad you say that. I wouldn’t like to think of you as unhappy and alone,” Francis sighed.

  She knew he had not been serious about marriage because he loved her, only because he wished to protect her. She smiled up at him reassuringly.

  “How could I be alone, with two wonderful sons, and such marvellous friends. Especially Jeanne. I know she is young, but she has been a tower of strength, and as generous as you are yourself, Francis. It is kind of you to offer me marriage, but I know you love Jeanne, as she does you.”

  “Does she really? Do you think I have a hope?” Francis exclaimed, pure joy lighting his handsome features.

  “Not only a hope, but my full permission to wed, as soon as you like, and I hope you’ll be happy.”

  Francis hugged her to him, and then ran off into the shrubbery in pursuit of his lady-love.

  Vevina looked up at the horizon, and saw a tall figure in the distance standing very still. With the sun in her eyes she could not make him out clearly, but she had the feeling it was Stewart. She raised her hand by way of greeting, but the figure stalked away into the distance, leaving her alone and bewildered, and more than a little depressed.

  She had dreamed of reuniting with Stewart the whole time she had been away. Now he not only acted as though he wasn't glad to see her, he acted as though he couldn't bear to even be in the same room with her, let alone marry her.

  It was all so confusing….

  She gathered her skirts, and headed back to her room disconsola
tely, seeking rest, but finding it elusive, as she kept turning her relationship with her beloved over and over again in her mind.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Later that evening Vevina was helping to copy some papers for Wellington to try to be useful and take her mind off her problems with Stewart.

  The boys were in bed, and she and Monroe were alone.

  To her shocked dismay, he got down on bended knee. Once she had gently refused him, she realized that again, she received a marriage proposal designed to protect her honour.

  Once again, she saw a dark figure looming in the doorway, heard the scrape of a booted foot on the landing, but before she could call the man back, he was gone.

  The next day Vevina was firmly convinced that either the entire world had gone mad, or there was a definite conspiracy going on, for Captain Olivier, and finally Mitchell proposed marriage to her as well.

  Captain Olivier was going back to France, his ransom paid. Vevina showed him the sketch his brother Andre had given her before they had separated at Burgos. “I shall tell you what I told him. You are a wonderful friend, but my destiny lies elsewhere,” Vevina said firmly.

  “I saw the baby playing with the locket the other day, and noticed the picture. I wonder, would you consent to wear mine as well?” Captain Olivier offered her a small picture of himself. “As a token of my esteem, and a reminder of all the happy times we had together, when we are all so young and carefree.”

  “Was I ever young and carefree, Vincent?” Vevina sighed, taking his arm.

  As they turned the corner of the garden, they practically crashed into Stewart, who was standing there as still as a statue.

  “My apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude,” he muttered, as he stormed off.

  The wrathful look he had given her convinced Vevina he had seen most if not all of the exchange between herself and Captain Olivier. Could he be jealous?

  But he had no reason to be. In any case, how could he trust her so little after all they had been to each other?

  She knew a storm had been brewing under Stewart’s relatively calm exterior for the past week, and expected the cloud burst at any moment. Unfortunately it coincided with Mitchell’s proposal on bended knee a second time, which Stewart burst in upon unexpectedly late that evening.

  He had been drinking a bit, and positively seethed. He picked Mitchell up by the seat of his trousers.

  Vevina clung on desperately to his arm before the hapless young man was hurled headlong down the stairs.

  “That’s enough!” barked Wellington from the landing below. “Colonel Fitzgerald, inside my chamber, now!”

  Stewart bit back a foul oath, and marched down the stairs. The opening words in his argument with Wellington were so loud nearly all of Spain could have heard.

  “My Lord, I wish to release Lady Vevina from our engagement. I can’t marry her.”

  “What are you saying, man, that you're in love with someone else?” Wellington demanded.

  “Yes!” Stewart bellowed.

  Vevina’s knees shook. She scrambled into her room and shut her door quickly. She lay down on the bed with her pillow over her ears. So that was why he didn't wish to wed her, despite all they had shared….

  She had been such a fool, thinking that her love and warmth would win the day, when he cared not a jot for her. Not even after all they had been through. Not that she wanted to marry him out of gratitude, but what could his paragon possibly have that she didn't?

  With this miserable swirl of thoughts weight on her emotions, something had to give, and at last she cried herself to the point of exhaustion, and sleep.

  Stewart quietened after his intial outburst, but the damage had already been done.

  He then muttered, “No— I don’t know. I’m sorry my Lord, I can’t seem to grasp all that has happened to me since I met Vevina and saved her from Hawkes five months ago, nearly six now,” he said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it.

  “I’m listening, Colonel. Why don’t you try to explain, so I can help you,” Wellington said kindly, pouring Stewart a cup of coffee and handing it to him.

  Stewart confided, “I admired Vevina from the moment I first met her, but thought she was married to Wilfred. Then it turned out she really was married, but to my own brother. We never would have had a relationship with each other if it hadn’t been for Samuels’s cruelty. Vevina came to me for protection, not love. How can I be sure what she feels for me?”

  “Don’t you think she feels the same concern about your feelings for her?”

  “She must know how deeply I care for her, but does it make any difference anyway? In the past two days she has had nearly every men in this camp ask her to marry him! She has her pick of anyone she wants as Lady Vevina Joyce. She doesn’t need me any more!”

  “No, Vevina doesn’t need you, but she still wants you, doesn’t she? She isn’t the one trying to break off the engagement, you are.”

  “That’s only because of the baby, and the other children.”

  “Don’t be absurd, man. Do you think she is so much of a coward that she would marry you just to satisfy social convention? She has done things no other woman of her age and position in life would have dreamt of, were it not for the single motive of love.”

  “She did it for her lands, for her country, not for me!”

  Wellington shook his head and sat back in his seat with a sigh. “If that is what you really think, Colonel, then I think I should take back your promotion, for you’re undoubtedly the biggest fool in my army!"

  Stewart gaped at him wordlessly.

  "Besides, you are hardly in a position to reproach her for not loving you enough, when you just stood in front of me and admitted you were in love with another woman.”

  “Not really another woman, my Lord,” Stewart sought to explain, running shaking fingers through his hair. “She’s more of a dream, an ideal, a lovely, gracious, generous woman in an exquisite blue gown, who captured my heart the moment I laid eyes on her, so full of life and happiness did she seem. Her image has been my guiding light amid all this chaos, a vision of what I would one day go back home to when this war was over.”

  “Have you compromised this woman’s virtue in any way, or contracted yourself to her?” Wellington demanded sharply.

  He shook his head quickly. “No, nothing like that. I don’t even know her name. But I never wanted to marry any one but her, and the worst part of it was that she betrayed me. All woman are untrustworthy, and I never thought to marry at all after that.”

  Stewart sighed. “But worse than my crushing sense of disappointment and loss over this woman, is my guilt over all Vevina has been through because of me. She is still young, barely twenty, and now to be saddled with three children and married to the twin brother of the man who tried to murder her? A man much older than her?” Stewart whispered, sounding as though his heart would break.

  “No, it's unthinkable. I want Vevina to be laughing and joyous, have a chance to be like my ebullient woman in blue, with someone her own age who can truly love her and make her happy.”

  Wellington's brows knit. “You are a soldier, Colonel. You of all people should appreciate duty. It is your duty to marry her, and make her happy. Vevina is the mother of your child, and all she did, she did of her own free will, because she loved you, as well as her brother, and all of your friends.

  “Vevina is an intelligent and beautiful young woman whom any man would be proud to have as a wife. But no man could ever marry her without winning her heart. The men who have proposed are doing it to protect her. Monroe himself has spoken to me about it, asking my permission to propose to Vevina, because you have proven so unreliable. I told him to do as he thought best. He did, but she refused him. She refused them all because she loves you. She will never settle for any man for the sake of propriety. She will only ever marry for love."

  "So since she loves you, even if you don't love her in the romantic way that you think is the ideal, Colonel, it is up
to you to protect her honour, and make her happy. Will you give up your idle daydream, a woman whom you yourself admit was unworthy of you, who betrayed you, and devote yourself to the mother of your child, or not?”

  Stewart sighed and nodded. “You are right, of course. Vevina is real, not a mere fantasy, and worthy of any man. Though I have my doubts about my own character and age, I will marry her, and I shall try to be a good husband.”

  Wellington was satisfied that Stewart’s pre-wedding nerves had finally subsided. They discussed the arrangements for the following Saturday like two old friends for several more minutes, until Stewart rose wearily, and begged to be excused.